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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.

Did they just teach about Civics or did they teach about other Honda's to?

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…

Hello, As the title says, I am planning to have the incontinence surgery in Mexico that others have discussed. I reached out to the center that performs the surgery last week, and I have been told it will result in complete and irreversible urinary incontinence. I have wanted this all my life and I am ready. I will be planning to use this page to provide updates and answer any questions. I am currently working on getting my passport, and have tentatively scheduled the surgery for March 2024. Thanks and peace Edit: the surgery date was moved up to Feb 12th, 2024 Edit on 2/16/2024: the thread title was changed from "Getting Surgery in Mexico" to "Got Surgery in Mexico" because I had the surgery on Monday, 2/12. Edit: on 3/18/2024: a follow up surgery was scheduled for June 1, and the thread title was changed back to "Getting Surgery in Mexico"

Hello All! It's been a while since I've posted a new story, but I'm back with a project I'm very excited about! "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" is the story of Rei Akiyama, a young girl trying to navigate through life in a near future dystopia where the age of majority has been raised to 28 for girls and regressive behavioral therapy has become popular to help girls adjust to these new laws. The world this story is set in is very strongly inspired by/based on the world building of Alteredstates, so a lot of credit goes to him! For those unfamiliar with Alteredstates, he does world building through ad copy and other cultural artifacts. While you don't need to be familiar with his work to understand and appreciate this story, I strongly recommend you check it out! Not only because it will help you immerse yourself in this world, but also because it's genuinely really good! You can find him on Tumblr, Twitter, and Patreon! Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first two chapters of "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" Prologue The night of Wednesday, October 4th, 2028, was unseasonably cold in the city of Greenham; snow was in the forecast for the next day in a city that rarely saw a snowflake until at least January. By 7:28PM, there were already flurries dancing through the cold wind that whipped through the dumpsters behind City Hall, where John Bennet, the head of City Hall security, stood with his foot propping open the emergency exit of the east stairwell. He blew out a lungful of smoke as he dropped his cigarette on the pavement below and crushed it beneath his shoe. John was nothing if not a creature of habit; so much so that, if one cared to be so observant, they could predict exactly what time John would take the last smoke break of his shift before he did his final sweep of the building. He would then go home to his shabby apartment. That night, however, was different. That night, John wouldn’t be going home; he would be meeting a 28-year-old girl he had met on the internet. That night, John’s phone rang just as he was about to go back inside. He fished his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he saw his date’s name on the caller ID, and swiped his finger across the screen as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, trying to sound smooth, “I can’t wait to see you.” On the other end of the phone, a young-sounding voice poured honeyed words into his ear as he turned and walked back into the building. Another night, under less distracting circumstances, John would have almost certainly noticed that the door never clicked closed behind him, but the telling silence was lost amongst the words that sent his blood pumping. In a bar a few miles away, Edward Cook was ordering a drink for a girl who looked too young to be there. The girl blushed as she slid her ID and emancipation card across the counter at the bartender’s request, brushing her blue hair behind her ear to look coyly at Edward out of the corner of her eye as she did. Edward never even noticed the girl on the other side of him, or her hand as she slipped a hard plastic card at the end of a black lanyard out of his suit jacket pocket. The card, printed with Edward’s picture and the seal of the Office of Juvenile Affairs, disappeared into the girl’s clutch purse as she quietly slipped away from the bar. She checked the time on her phone as she stepped out into the frosty night: 7:34PM. Elsewhere, the number 9 county bus was pulling over for an unscheduled stop due to a disturbance on the bus involving three young girls. The driver, Richard Lawson, broke up the altercation with the help of another passenger and removed the girls from the bus. That taken care of, an exasperated Richard reported the incident to dispatch, who noted the number 9 bus was running ten minutes behind but was resuming his route at 7:47PM. Back at the courthouse, John, having finished his final sweep of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary, put the finishing touches on his security logs for the night and leaned back in his chair, eyes sweeping over the bank of CCTV monitors that showed snapshots of the interior of the courthouse. It was, however, the clock that John was truly focused on, his eyes constantly flicking between it and the monitors. The moment those numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00PM, John pushed himself out of his chair and jabbed his finger at the button that caused all of the monitors to wink out simultaneously. Had he waited just a minute longer, he might have seen the black garbed figures slip in from the emergency exit in the east stairwell. He could have watched as they crept up that staircase and slipped into second floor hallway. Another camera would have shown the figures slink down the hallway, past the Permits Office and the Office of Parks and Recreation. On a third camera, the figures stopped in front of a frosted glass door with Office of Juvenile Affairs printed across it in thick, black block letters. One of the figures swiped a card by the panel next to the door, the light turned from red to green, and the figures quickly disappeared through the door. Later, security logs would be pulled showing Edward Cook had accessed the office at 8:04PM; the subsequent investigation would find Cook was not guilty of any direct involvement but would still lose his position on the grounds of gross negligence. By 8:15PM, Greenham City Hall was silent and empty. At 8:17PM, the number 9 county bus blew past the empty bus stop at the far end of the City Hall parking lot. On an ordinary night, Richard would typically idle at this station for a few minutes, but he was working hard to make up for lost time. The next few stops were just as empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of night on a weekday. It was 8:34PM when the bus pulled up to the stop at Greenham Community College, where three girls and four boys boarded the bus, all of them in their late teens and early twenties. Richard Lawson wouldn’t even think to mention this to investigators later, though they likely would have made nothing of it if he had. By 8:50PM, the city of Greenham, a suburb of the nation’s capital city, was settling into its slumber. A few bars and restaurants were still pouring drinks for late night clientele, but curfew was quickly approaching and all those affected were either already home or else rushing to get there. At 8:54PM, the electric engine of the number 9 county bus was humming along through the streets of one such sleepy neighborhood, empty but for Ricard Lawson and a small handful of passengers: a young girl with black hair and tawny skin carrying a bookbag tight to her chest, two boys with their feet on the seats laughing raucously in the back of the bus, and a mother and a daughter riding together. Richard glanced up at the passengers in his rearview mirror and caught the eye of the daughter. She had bright blue eyes, a practical waterfall of golden curls, and looked to be in her early twenties. Richard smiled at the girl in the mirror; he had to admit, she was adorable in her pink shirt and plaid skirtall. She smiled back at him from behind the shield of her pacifier. The mother turned away from the book in her hand and leaned over the girl, slipping one hand up the girl’s skirtall. Richard quickly averted his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was invading their privacy. “Oh, Rebecca,” the older woman sighed quietly, but still loud enough to be heard easily on the otherwise silent bus, “your pull-up is soaked; did you even know you had to go?” The girl’s smile disappeared into her blush as she mumbled some words from behind her pacifier. The mother chuckled. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she ruffled her daughter’s hair, “we’re almost home! Then we can get you changed into your nighttime diapers and feed you a nice bottle before bed, would you like that?” She booped her daughter’s nose and sent the girl into a fit of laughter. The black-haired girl shifted in her seat across from the mother and daughter, obviously trying to avoid looking at them. She glanced at her phone, 9:52PM. Richard Lawson shifted in his seat and tried to ignore the cooing and giggling going on behind him. Little single-family homes passed by as he made his way down Ridgemont Street, and only more in sight as he turned right down Wrighton Square. The bell dinged and Richard slowly pressed the brake, bringing the bus to a stop at the corner or Wrighton and Central Lake Drive. Richard wished his passengers a good night, stay safe, as they all got off. Glancing back in his rearview mirror to confirm the bus was empty, Richard slowly accelerated into the night. Peter Grant watched the bus pull away from the front seat of his Greenham Police Department Cruiser. He scanned the passengers leaving the bus stop. Two young men cross the street and kept walking up Wrighton Square while three women started walking up Central Lake Drive and toward his cruiser. He checked his clock: 9:56, damn near too late for young women to be out alone. “Let’s check it out,” he said to his partner, Dave Clusky, as he stepped out of the cruiser and started crossing the street towards the trio. As Peter approached, the women were backlit by a streetlamp, but he could make out the vaguely feminine shapes of three women. Two of them walked side by side as the third, at least a few inches shorter than the other two, walked a couple of feet behind. Peter raised his flashlight, “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out officiously as the beam of light cut through the night, bringing the slowly drifting flakes of snow into heavy contrast. The three ladies stopped in their tracks. The shorter of the two in front whimpered behind her pacifier and clung to the older woman next to her as they both blinked against the light. The girl behind them gasped inaudibly and stared ahead like a deer in headlights for a moment before raising a hand to protect her eyes from the worst of the light. “Evening, ma’am,” Peter nodded to the older woman, “these your children?” The woman glanced behind her, then back to Peter, “just this one,” she replied, squeezing Rebecca close to her. Peter nodded, “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Best get your little one inside, it looks to be about her bedtime.” The mother laughed politely, “yes, we’ve had a very long day, thank you, officer.” She tugged on Rebecca’s hand and quietly urged the girl on. Peter swept his flashlight over a few degrees to focus his beam on the girl in the white button up shirt and plaid suspender skirt. “Could you lower your hand, miss? How old are you?” “Uhm, nineteen,” she replied nervously, “I know it’s—” “It’s almost curfew,” Peter interrupted her, “you allowed to be out past curfew?” “Um, no, sir, I—” “Yeah, didn’t think so. What’s your name? What are you doing out so late?” “Um, Rei, sir, and I’m coming home from college, sir, I was—” “College?” Dave chimed in, “you got parental permission for that?” “Yes, sir, and I—” “What were you doing at college this late?” Peter asked. “You go to Greenham CC?” “Yes, sir, I was studying—” “Studying,” Dave scoffed, “yeah, right.” “I was, sir, I have—” “You got a pass from your professor?” Peter asked. “Yes, sir, it’s—” “Well?” Dave said impatiently. “Let’s see it,” Peter demanded. “Yes, sir,” the girl reached into her backpack and produced a folded sheet of paper that was immediately snatched out of her hand. “Professor Lewis? English?” Peter read key words off the piece of paper before handing it off to Dave. Dave looked the sheet over, made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, then handed it back to Peter. “Looks legit” “You know it’s almost curfew, kid?” Peter turned back towards the girl, thrusting the paper back at her. “Yes, sorry, I was—” “Yeah, you were at college, you said. You live close by?” “Yes, sir, I—” “Where at?” “Just up the street,” she raised her hand and pointed behind Peter. “Uh huh,” Peter sounded skeptical. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 9:59PM. “Think you can get home before curfew hits, little girl?” He smiled maliciously. The girl’s knees went weak; she clutched her bag to her chest as if it could protect from him the malice in his smile. Her vision tunneled in on the face of Peter Grant and the world around her sounded like it was moving through water. Tick. 10:00PM. As curfew went into effect all over Greenham and it’s surrounding townships, the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall exploded outward, raining fire and rubble into it’s expansive parking lot. The sound of the explosion tore through the still night air, audible as a low rumbling miles away on Central Lake Drive. A portion of the horizon of the night sky lit up. “The fuck…?” Peter cursed. “Fuck me!” Dave swore. The girl let out a quiet yelp and resisted the urge to make a break for it. Silence filled the air in the aftermath of the explosion, and then the radios on Dave and Peter’s shoulders started squawking. They completely forgot about the girl as they scrambled back to their cruiser. Chapter One Snowflakes were melting in Rei Akiyama’s hair as she slumped against the front door of her house. She was still shaking and trying to steady her breath. “You’re late,” a voice said from the living room. “I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Rei said, still panting slightly as she took her shoes off before entering the room. “The bus was running late; I ran all the way here from the bus stop.” Ms. Akiyama made a sound in her throat as she looked her daughter up and down. “You were studying? Let me see your pass.” “Yes, Mom,” Rei said as she pulled out the now slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her bag and handed it over. “You’re working too hard in school,” Ms. Akiyama said matter-of-factly. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re home,” she discarded the paper on the end table, “I was starting to get worried when I heard that rumbling. Did you hear that?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei nodded and chewed on her lip, unsure what else to say on the topic. “Rei, stop chewing your lip, it’s a bad nervous habit.” “Yes, Mom, sorry.” Rei forced herself to stop and instead just looked down at her shoes. “Well?” Ms. Akiyama asked expectantly a moment later. “It’s almost bedtime; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? The news said we were supposed to get a few inches of snow, so school will probably be cancelled tomorrow, but I want you in bed on time just in case, okay?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei replied. She tried her best not to turn and run up the stairs, but instead walked casually up them as if it had just been a normal night of studying. Her mother watched her go, sensing something was off about her daughter, but she was unable to put her finger on what, exactly, she was sensing. Rei stopped briefly at the top of the stairs, turned back, and gave a small smile and wave when she saw her mother was still watching, then disappeared around the corner. Ms. Akiyama sighed quietly: what was she going to do with that girl? She was worried what kind of ideas her school was filling her head with, and Rei being out all-night studying didn’t do anything to allay that worry. Picking up the pass Rei had given her, Ms. Akiyama turned and settled back down on the couch. According to the pass, Rei had been working on her midterm essay for English with Professor Lewis. Sighing once more, she set the note aside, making a mental note to ask Rei what she was writing her essay about (maybe that would give her a clue on exactly what kind of idea’s the school was filling Rei’s head with), and turned her attention back to the TV where a mature looking woman was smiling back at her while holding a colorful package. “That why I decided to try new Pampers Overnight Diapers! They are expertly designed for girls who wet the bed,” as the woman delivered the line, she reached her free hand out the side and pulled a young girl of about eight or ten into the frame and into a side hug, “and those who don’t,” the camera pulled out and panned over to reveal an older girl about Rei’s age staring distractedly at her phone seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, “yet,” the mother added after a beat and punctuated it with a wink. Upstairs, Rei leaned against the wall, just out of sight, focusing on getting her breathing back to normal. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but, so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it stayed that way. Rei pushed herself away from the wall and made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom, closing her door behind her just as downstairs the TV alerted her mother to breaking news. As Ms. Akiyama was stunned to hear of the bombing just a few miles from her, Rei was tossing her backpack on the floor next to her desk and throwing herself face down on her bed. She was slightly dazed and more than exhausted. Part of her couldn’t believe the events of the night. Yes, they had been making plans for weeks now, she had known this night was coming, but now that it was done…it felt surreal. She was terrified of what would come next. Still, there was one more thing she had to do before this night was over. Rei crept back to her bedroom door, listened carefully, then cracked the door ever so slightly. The distant sounds of the TV still drifted up the stairs and the hallway was empty. Closing the door silently, she rushed across the carpet in socked feet to her desk, which, looking back over her shoulder towards the door, she inched away from the wall. Kneeling down, Rei reached behind the desk and pried off a piece of the baseboard to reveal a small crevice between the wall and the floor from which Rei produced a cell phone at least a decade old. It was black with a silver lined screen and a numeric keyboard. Rei brought up the messaging app only to be greeted with over a dozen texts; each was from a different number, but they all said the same thing: “home safe.” She sighed with relief, painstakingly typed out her own missive (“home safe”) on the numeric keyboard and pressed send before immediately replacing the phone in its hiding place and putting everything back in order. Now, Rei thought, it was time to get ready for bed. Chapter Two “It was confirmed early this morning that there were no casualties or injuries in last night’s explosion at the Greenham City Hall, which occurred at exactly 10PM and destroyed most of the building’s eastern half. While authorities have yet to make any statements regarding the cause of the explosion, many are already speculating that this was an act of domestic terrorism committed by the radical leftist feminist group Rebel in response to recent social policy legislation restricting the rights of women under twenty-eight. Supporters of this theory have been quick to point out that the offices of the newly established Office of Juvenile Affairs, which was formed to enforce these new policies, was located in the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall. We’ll be sure to bring you all the breaking details on this story as it develops. Back to you in the studio, Steve.” As the news switched back to less interesting stories, Ms. Akiyama turned her attention away from the tablet propped up on the kitchen counter and back to the cast iron skillet in front of her where the pancakes were beginning to form bubbles along the edge of the batter. She flipped them with the kind of perfection that only came with years of practice and shook her head, it was just terrible what had happened. She knew some people thought the new laws were going too far, but surely bombing buildings was going just as far, if not further. No, it wasn’t the proper way to go about voicing dissent at all. And if this was the kind of stuff feminism was preaching these days, maybe there was some sense to these new laws. Certainly they didn’t teach girls to behave that way when she was younger. Ms. Akiyama just prayed Rei’s head wasn’t being filled with this kind of stuff at that college she had begged so hard to go to. Maybe it wasn’t too late to put her in a vocational school; with a little discipline, Rei could make an excellent secretary. Or maybe she could get Rei a job working at a daycare; Rei always liked children, and maybe tapping into Rei’s maternal instincts was just what was needed to make sure she stayed on the right path. Or, there was always… No, no, Ms. Akiyama shoved that thought away. Rei was a good kid; a bit headstrong, but a good kid, surely that option was too drastic. Ms. Akiyama sighed as she stacked the pancakes on the steadily growing pile; she just wanted Rei to be safe and have a nice, happy life. She didn’t want her daughter falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in trouble. It wasn’t easy raising a daughter in such complicated times. Ms. Akiyama was still musing on such matters when Rei shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, almost instinctively following the smell of pancakes. “Pancakes?” Rei asked hopefully. “Does that mean school is canceled?” Mom typically never made pancakes on weekdays. “It sure does,” Ms. Akiyama replied cheerfully, trying to hide the somber mood the news had put her in. “Have you looked outside? We got quite a lot of snow!” Rei grinned and rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room and its bay window overlooking their front yard and the street beyond. Everything was white and brilliantly bright in the morning sun, covered in what must have been at least five or six inches of snow. Even the road was covered; it seemed like the snowplows hadn’t made it to their neighborhood yet. Rei couldn’t help but stare out the window in wonderment; she had always loved the snow. There was just something magical about it. Behind her, Ms. Akiyama leaned against the door frame and grinned. When it came to snow, kids were always kids. “Come on,” Ms. Akiyama said after giving Rei a few moments to take in the wintery spread, “the pancakes are getting cold.” She turned and headed back in to the kitchen without checking to make sure Rei was following her. The news was once again talking about last night’s incident, so Ms. Akiyama quickly turned it off as she grabbed the plate of pancakes; she didn’t want to upset Rei with such terrible news first thing in the morning. “So,” Ms. Akiyama said as she set the plate of pancakes on the table and Rei settled into her seat, “you were working on an essay with your professor last night?” She grabbed the syrup from the fridge before settling into her own seat. “Um, yeah,” Rei responded simply as she loaded her plate with pancakes, “my midterm essay,” she added after a moment. “Oh, that’s nice,” Ms. Akiyama passed the syrup across the table and took a couple pancakes off the stack for herself. “What’s it about?” “Um,” Rei was drenching her pancakes in syrup, “well, it’s…well, our professor gave us some articles to choose from and we just have to like respond to one of them.” “Interesting, what kind of articles?” “Just, you know, current events stuff.” “Uh-huh, and what article did you choose?” Sure, Ms. Akiyama was testing the waters, trying to see what kind of stuff Rei was learning at school, but, to her credit, she was genuinely interested in her daughter’s life. Rei, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Her mother didn’t usually ask her this many questions about her schoolwork. Rei liked that her mother didn’t ask her about her schoolwork. Rei thought the less her mother asked about her schoolwork, the better. Why was her mother suddenly interested? She thought about lying, but if her mother asked to see the essay, she’d be caught immediately. “Well, just about…about the passing of The Hayes Act…” “Oh, I see.” Rei shoveled a too large bite of pancakes into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Oh, I see? What did that mean? Rei tried to smile around the bite of pancakes, but her eyes were searching her mother’s face for anything that might hint to her true reaction. Ms. Akiyama worked to keep her face as passive as possible, raising her cup and taking a long, slow sip of coffee to help her efforts. She had barely discussed the act with her daughter since its passage six months ago. She hadn’t needed to much, and it had always felt like such a…touchy subject. “Why did you choose that article?” Ms. Akiyama asked, trying hard to sound casual but interested and definitely non-confrontational. Just a mom interested in her daughter’s schoolwork. Rei speared a hunk of pancake with her fork and cut it away from the rest with her knife, “Um, I just thought the article was interesting,” she spoke with her head down, giving her voice a muffled quality. “What was the article about?” Ms. Akiyama knew Rei had strong feelings about The Hayes Act, and she couldn’t blame her. Rei had turned nineteen a month before the law had passed; she had been an adult for thirteen months when she once again became a child in the eyes of the law for another nine years. Of course, Ms. Akiyama understood why her daughter felt so strongly about it; she respected Rei’s passion, but she wished Rei could accept that there was nothing that could be done. She wished Rei could just accept that the world wasn’t what her mother had promised it would be she told Rei she could grow up to be whatever she wanted. “Just,” Rei shrugged, “I guess the author was talking about how it shouldn’t have passed and stuff…” The two were in a minefield; they both knew it. Neither wanted this to end in an explosion, but one couldn’t leave, and the other couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Oh,” Ms. Akiyama said, “do you talk about that kind of stuff a lot in school?” The last time they had discussed The Hayes Act had been when it had come time for Rei to enroll in her second year at Greenham Community College. With Rei then legally a child, she needed Ms. Akiyama’s permission to continue attending college. Ms. Akiyama could have stopped her; she had certainly been tempted to do it. Rei shrugged, “What do you mean ‘that kind of stuff’?” “Stuff like The Hayes Act? Politics?” “I guess, sometimes.” “What kind of stuff do they teach you about it?” Rei shrugged, “I mean, they just like…explain how it came to be. Historically, you know?” “I see.” Ms. Akiyama could sense her daughter getting…defensive? Evasive? She was certainly becoming something. Maybe it was time to pump the brakes. “I just worry,” Ms. Akiyama said, genuinely thinking it would help defuse the situation. “Worried?!” Rei said a little too loudly, “there’s nothing to worry about, Mom!” “It’s just…I hear a lot these days about what kinds of things colleges are teaching and—” “Mo-om!” “—and I don’t want them filling your head with the wrong kinds of ideas, that’s all!” “Mom, they are not…brainwashing me, okay?” “I didn’t say brainwashing, okay? I just hear what kinds of things colleges teach these days, that’s all,” Ms. Akiyama repeated. Rei slumped in her chair. Her mom had managed to ruin pancakes. “I just want you to be happy,” Ms. Akiyama said after a long, awkward pause. She reached across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “College just makes things harder for most girls these days, and, besides, you study so much, it’s not good for you.” “But I like school, Mom. It makes me happy.” “Well, why don’t we sign you up for one of those extended high school for girls programs?” Ms. Akiyama smiled, genuinely thinking it would be a good suggestion. “Ugh, Mom,” Rei withdrew her hand and shot her mother a withering look, “those are just housewife classes.” “There’s nothing wrong with that, Rei!” “I’m not saying there is,” Rei protested, “it’s just not what I want to do.” “I know, you want to be a teacher, but I just don’t…well…you can’t be a teacher for another nine years, what if by then they don’t let women be teachers anymore?” A silence fell over the room as both mother and daughter felt the weight of that thought. It was a legitimate concern. “I don’t know, Mom,” Rei said at last, sounding crestfallen. “But what am I supposed to do?” Ms. Akiyama frowned. Like most mothers, deep down she just wanted her child to be happy. Part of her really wished her child could have her dream, but most of her knew it simply wasn’t meant to be and there was nothing that could change that. Most of her just wanted to help Rei find another way to be happy. Without a word, Ms. Akiyama rose from the table and cleared their plates. Breakfast was clearly over. On her way out of the kitchen, she lightly ruffled Rei’s hair, “Go on,” she said, “enjoy your snow day, okay? But just…think about the extended high school program?” Rei nodded.

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

I might be the only one who does this but.. If I know I will be wearing a diaper in the evening and I need to go #2, I will purposefully try and hold it in till I get home so that I can relax and let go in the comfort of home where I can take my time in my padding. I also really enjoy it if Im constipated and then after a few days find relief in my diaper - I never rush to use the bathroom if I can get away with holding a little longer to let go once padded. I know holding it in isn’t recommended.. but it does make it even better when I finally go (obviously within reason, nothing dangerous!) Once I get padded I still hold it until I’m pretty desperate, so there is no pushing or straining needed. I used to find it nearly impossible to fully “go” in the diaper, but waiting till I really really need it means that isnt an issue anymore either! a win win and a lot of fun!

If you don't waddle like a duck, it's not thick enough.

Had some food the past two days that I normally don't eat. Was partially constipated for a day and when it came time mid-day, I wished I was in a diaper to enjoy it. It was a mixture of firm, and soft serve and would have been rather nice to enjoy for a while. Doesn't happen to often for me, as my normal diet results in soft serve consistency 97% of the time.

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

Thanks Brian! Meter is moving slow this month!

They probably discussed accords too.

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.

Chlorophyll pills like nulls help a lot but turn poo green

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.

"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"

Wasn't sure about this one, but it was easy to look up. Wasn't there a British version of this skit?

Nullo.

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.

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

When I, as a civilian, got seconded to "RAF Communications", Where ever I got posted, the Quartermaster had a rubber sheet for me, so I don't think that I can have been the only bedwetter in the service.

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.

I started this journey 10 months ago. Wanting to be in a wet diaper at night or have the bed be soaking wet with pee. I had no experience with bed-wetting. The last time having truly wet the bed. I was probably 5 or 6 years old. I accepted some of the challenges this would have in life. Having to always wear a diaper whenever asleep. Paying for supplies. Using ointment for rashes. Traveling with supplies. Family finding out. With years of never peeing in my sleep. I could not pee lying down. I started by laying in the bathtub and practicing there. I would do this everytime before I would shower. It was still incredibly difficult to drink a bunch of water before bed and wake up and let go. Now I did this once a week for a month. Naturally my partner was quite disappointed. My partner wore goodnights until 15 so she was understanding. She had a concerned talk with me. She was very supportive and encouraged me to get some diapers. She made sure I scheduled a doctor's appointment about it. I did both. The doctor visits was uneventful. "More people than you would think wet the bed" "do you want any drugs for it" Politely declined. With wearing diapers every night I tried to get in the habit of waking up and letting go. In order to achieve this new goal. I would stay well hydrated throughout the day. Then I would drink two pint glasses of water before bed. Sure enough most nights I would wake up and just let go before going back to sleep. Waking up and using my diaper lasted months. A few experiences have been. Being sick my significant other has changed me. I have spent holidays at her parents. Wearing a diaper to bed in the guest bedroom. Wore a diaper for road trips in case I took a nap in the car. Anytime I got cold feet about wearing to bed she would make me put a diaper on. Through all of this. Wetting myself laying in any position became as easy as walking. With months of no progress. I finally started to have the hazy memories of waking up and wetting. This progressed to a few pee dreams. One notable dream was I walked into the bedroom. Desperate to relieve myself. I took a diaper out of the drawer and put it on. Letting go I could feel the wet warmth and felt so relieved. I woke up that morning soaking wet. The pee dreams was incredibly short lived. I progressed to waking up soaked. Go to bed in a dry diaper and wake up in a soaked diaper. It's not every night. That's the next goal. However I can proudly say I'm a bed-wetter now. I would be worried about going to bed without one on at the moment.

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.

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.

Happy New Year, everyone. I spent last night as I hope to spend much of 2024... wearing a diaper, drinking red wine, and eating appetizers. I was at a friend's gathering, which featured a number of people who do not know that I dress like at toddler under my clothes, so, discretion was the prime directive - I wore a medium-weight plastic Rearz diaper (Lil' Splash) under a black onesie, oversized jeans, and a sweater. I was staying over for the night so had a perfect excuse to deposit my diaper bag in the upstairs bedroom, and thus was able to get changed comfortably at about 11 PM into a Barnyard, then ring in the new year, drink more wine, and go to bed slightly damp. The bedwetting Gods favoured me by causing the ethanol clouds to part long enough for me to realize that I needed to pee at 5 AM or so, and that I had, in fact, already started doing so, allowing me to roll onto my back and fall asleep again, knowing that the acres of dry padding out behind me were taking the fire. Apparently, I started snoring - so says the buddy of mine that I shared the room with, he on a fold-out couch. That often happens when I sleep on my back; it's better than wetting someone else's bed, I didn't say. I have a quick funny story from earlier in the week that I forgot to recount: we were cleaning the bathrooms regularly, because we had a lot of guests over the holidays, and at one point I noticed that after I'd cleaned the toilet in younger daughter's bathroom, she had used it (#1), and then she didn't flush it - something which she's known to do from time to time. So I walked into her room and said "Sweetie, when you use the toilet, please flush it. I just cleaned that bathroom." To which she replied: "At least I use the toilet, dad..." Touché.

Chapter 2: The Amazonian secret A flash of white light, a soft whirring sound, and then, like waking from a dream, I found myself in Amazonia. My feet touched the ground, but it wasn't just the solidness beneath me that felt different; the air buzzed with a charge I'd never known. I barely had time to gather my bearings when she approached—Nurse Ania, her lab coat stretching down an impossibly long frame. She towered over me like a skyscraper, her eyes level and professional. "Welcome to Emerson Mr. Echavoyen. I'm Nurse Ania. I'll be conducting your initial health screening. If you would please follow me." Her voice was an odd comfort, human in tone despite the towering form it came from. I nodded, my own voice caught somewhere between awe and uncertainty. As we walked into the examination room, it was like stepping into a world scaled for giants. The medical equipment loomed large and intimidating. A chill crept up my spine as I realized how small I must look to her. Nurse Ania gestured to an examination table that seemed more like a platform for displaying art than anything medical. "Please hop up here," she said with clinical detachment. I glanced at the table and then at my own legs. The realization hit me with a thud—I couldn't reach it on my own. My cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. For a moment, I stood frozen, grappling with the admission of needing help. "Um," I started, clearing my throat. "Could you give me a hand?" Nurse Ania turned, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening just slightly. She extended her hand—a hand that could envelop mine twice over—and gently lifted me onto the table as if I weighed nothing more than a feather. Settled on the cold surface of the examination table, I exhaled slowly. The first hurdle in this strange new world had been crossed with unexpected grace thanks to Nurse Ania's towering presence. Nurse Ania flicked on the overhead lights, and they buzzed to life, casting a sterile glow over the room. She worked methodically, her movements precise and practiced. "We'll start with your height measurement," she announced, unfolding a ruler that looked more like a towering pillar beside me. I stepped up to the base of it, feeling the cool metal against my back. Nurse Ania adjusted the slider, and it descended with a quiet hiss until it tapped the top of my head. "Hold still," she instructed. My heart pounded in my chest. This was the moment that would set my path in this new world. I had to be a Mid; anything less would feel like a sentence rather than an opportunity. "Done," Nurse Ania said as she scribbled something on her clipboard. She motioned for me to step down and proceeded with other measurements and tests—none of which I could interpret from her expressionless face. I sat there, every muscle taut, waiting for her to finish writing. The anticipation was a tight coil in my stomach, ready to spring. Nurse Ania finally turned to me, her eyes softening just enough to remind me she wasn't made of stone. "Bixente, your height is 1.82 meters, therefore a Little." The numbers hung in the air like a verdict. A single centimeter had just tipped the scales of my entire existence. "What? That can't be right," I stammered, my voice sharp with disbelief. My mind raced—there must have been some mistake. "I assure you, we're quite accurate here." Her tone was gentle but patronizing as if she was coaxing a toddler through a tantrum. I struggled to swallow the lump forming in my throat. "But I'm a Mid," I insisted, though even as I said it, doubt crept in like an unwelcome shadow. Nurse Ania tilted her head, looking at me with an odd mixture of sympathy and condescension. "I understand this is difficult to accept, Bixente. But being classified as a Little isn't the end of the world." Her words were meant to be comforting but they only fueled the fire inside me—a blaze of betrayal and fear. She didn't understand; she couldn't possibly understand what it felt like to be so close to what you wanted only to have it snatched away by one measly centimeter. "But I—" My protest died on my lips as Nurse Ania continued talking to me like I was Eric's age instead of seventeen years old. "There's no need to worry," she said soothingly. "You'll see that life here can be quite enjoyable for Littles. You're cared for and protected." Her reassurances were like ice water dousing my spirit, each word highlighting how much I'd lost in that moment—all because of one centimeter. "Nurse Ania," I started, my voice trembling more than I cared to admit, "I think there's been a mistake. I'm not—" She hushed me with a look that was meant to be calming but only ignited a spark of indignation within me. "It's time to meet your Nest Mother and start your journey at Emerson," she said with a finality that left no room for argument. Before I could protest further, she grabbed my hand like I was a little boy lost in a supermarket, her grip firm yet somehow gentle. We left the building and walked across the campus, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger. My hand in hers felt like a shackle, reminding me with every step that my identity had just been rewritten by a system that didn't know me at all. As we passed groups of students, some Littles like me and others towering above, I felt their eyes on us. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and my temper began to simmer beneath the surface. The way Nurse Ania guided me, so sure and maternal, it was like she'd already dismissed who I was before I even had the chance to prove myself. "I'm not a child," I snapped suddenly, yanking my hand back with all the force I could muster. "I don't need you to hold my hand." Nurse Ania stopped in her tracks and turned to face me, her expression stern. "Bixente," she said in a tone that brooked no argument, "this is how things are done here. Your reaction is understandable but not acceptable." I bristled under her scolding gaze. The last thing I wanted was to be patronized, to be treated as someone who couldn't handle his own emotions or navigate his own path. "I don't care how things are done here," I retorted, feeling reckless with frustration. "This isn't right." Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew instantly that I'd crossed some unspoken line. "You have much to learn about our ways," she said coolly. "And you will learn them in time. For now, you would do well to remember where you stand." I clenched my jaw tight enough to ache, holding back the torrent of words threatening to spill out. Nurse Ania resumed walking, and after a moment's hesitation filled with turmoil, I followed in silence. This wasn't how it was supposed to be—I wasn't supposed to be helpless or dependent. Yet here I was being led through an alien campus like a child who'd wandered too far from the playground. And despite every fiber of my being screaming against it, part of me knew this was only the beginning. The lecture room stretched out before me, rows upon rows ascending like steps to some grand altar. At the front stood a podium, behind which a woman leaned with casual authority. Evelyn Harrow, I'd learn soon enough. She was a vision of control, from her sharp eyes to the way her fingers tapped a silent rhythm on the wood. Nurse Ania guided me toward her, and I could feel the woman's gaze size me up like I was a puzzle to be solved—or maybe dismantled. "Evelyn, this is Bixente Echavoyen," Nurse Ania introduced me with a gesture that felt too much like presenting an exhibit. Evelyn's eyes lingered on my scowl. "Welcome, Bixente. Please, take a seat," she said, her voice smooth as silk but edged with steel. I glanced around and noticed the chairs—high chairs, more like—each with straps dangling from the sides. My fellow friends sat restrained in them, their faces storm clouds of resentment and discomfort. A knot tightened in my stomach. This wasn't right. "I'm not a little kid," I muttered under my breath. Evelyn arched an eyebrow. "Your behavior suggests otherwise," she retorted sharply. Her words stung like a slap. Anger bubbled up inside me, but before it could erupt, she continued in a voice that brooked no dissent. "Now climb up into your chair like a good little boy." My cheeks flamed red as I stared at the high chair before me. The straps mocked me silently, promising a humiliation I hadn't felt since I was five years old. Clenching my fists at my sides, I weighed my pride against the reality of my situation. With every pair of eyes in the room on me—waiting, judging—I forced myself to move. My hands gripped the sides of the chair as I hoisted myself up awkwardly, the cold plastic of the seat pressing into my legs as I settled in. There it was—the first chink in my armor in this oversized world—and Evelyn's satisfied smirk told me she knew it too. "Very good," Evelyn purred, her satisfaction evident as she turned away to begin whatever lesson she had planned for us—her captive audience in more ways than one. The harness looked like something out of a child's playroom, brightly colored and sturdy, with straps that crisscrossed my chest and waist. I hesitated for a moment, my pride clashing with the reality of my situation. But as Evelyn's eyes bore into me, I knew there was no escape from this humiliation. I reached back to fasten the straps, feeling the cold metal buckles click into place. The harness tightened around me, securing me in place like a puppet on a string. It was uncomfortable, to say the least—the straps digging into my skin as if trying to remind me of my new status as a Little. I could feel Evelyn's eyes on me as I struggled against the confines of the chair and harness. Her presence loomed over me, suffocating. "Settle down, Bixente," she said in that same smooth tone that made my skin crawl. "You'll get used to it." As I sat there locked in place, I couldn't help but think of Eric—my little brother who'd looked up to me as his protector, his guide. And now here I was, powerless and infantilized by a system that didn't see me for who I truly was. The irony wasn't lost on me—once the caretaker, now in need of one myself. My heart ached with homesickness and a longing for simpler times when all I had to worry about was making sure Eric had his drynite on before bed I eyed the other two guys beside me, both looking as out of place as I felt. Adrian, tall and sharp as a knife's edge, seemed to barely contain his disdain for the whole setup. Mateo, on the other hand, was all wide-eyed wonder and nervous energy, fidgeting in his chair like he might bolt at any second. Evelyn cleared her throat, commanding our attention. "Gentlemen, let's start with introductions. Please, tell us about yourselves." Adrian went first, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Adrian Volkov. Business Organisation major. And frankly, I find this entire thing beneath me." Mateo shot Adrian a wary glance before speaking up. "Uh, Mateo Ramirez. I'm just excited to be here and learn." My turn. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Bixente Echavoyen. Mechanical engineering is my passion." Evelyn nodded, her eyes flicking between us like she was assessing our worth. "Thank you for sharing," she said smoothly. "As your Nest Mother, my role is multifaceted. Think of me as your guide, your enforcer of rules, and your caretaker all rolled into one." She walked around us slowly as she spoke, her heels clicking on the floor like a metronome ticking away our fate. "I'll ensure you adhere to curfews, uniform regulations—including your diapers—and academic standards," Evelyn continued. "But it's more than that. I'm here to nurture you, to build a relationship that extends beyond these walls." The way she said 'nurture' sent shivers down my spine—it was too cold, too calculated. "And rest assured," she added with a pointed look at each of us in turn, "missteps will have consequences." Adrian scoffed loudly enough to echo in the lecture room. "This is ridiculous," he sneered. "We're not children to be coddled and disciplined." Evelyn stopped in front of him, her posture rigid with authority. "Mr. Volkov," she said icily, "you would do well to remember your place here at Emerson. You are not above the rules—no one is." Adrian met her gaze but something flickered behind his eyes—a realization that maybe he wasn't as untouchable as he thought. Evelyn's expression softened slightly as she turned back to Mateo and me. "I know this is a lot to take in," she said more gently now. "But I promise you'll find your way here—with my help." There was something about the way she said 'my help' that didn't sit right with me—it felt like a velvet glove over an iron fist—but I kept my mouth shut. As Evelyn outlined more of what our life would be like under her watchful eye—diaper checks included—I couldn't help but wonder if coming to Amazonia had been a colossal mistake. But there was no turning back now; I was in too deep—literally strapped into it—and all I could do was nod along with Mateo and even Adrian as we were ushered into this new world where we were Littles under the care of our Nest Mother Evelyn Harrow. *** Evelyn flipped a switch, and the digital whiteboard flickered to life behind her, casting a soft glow across the room. She tapped the screen, and colorful images popped up, each paired with large, cartoonish numbers. "Now, let's go through the rules," she began in a singsong voice that grated on my nerves. "It's important for all my little boys to understand how to be good at Emerson." She pointed at the first image—a bottle with a big red 'X' through it. "No-no number one: no sippy-sips of grown-up drinks. That means no alcohol for you little tykes." Her voice was patronizingly sweet, as if explaining to toddlers why they couldn't have candy before dinner. A snicker escaped from Adrian's lips, but he quickly masked it with a cough. Mateo's eyes were wide, darting from Evelyn to the board as if trying to make sense of this charade. "Every time you break this rule," Evelyn continued, "you'll get a whole bunch of demerits. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" She clapped her hands together like a preschool teacher excited about finger painting. Next came an image of a book with an 'A+' on it crossed out. "No-no number two: no cheating on your homework," she chimed. "If you copy from another kiddo, it's straight to expulsion—no second chances." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the harness preventing any real movement. The thought of being treated like an academic fraud when I hadn't even attended a class yet was insulting. Adrian rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might stick that way, while Mateo just nodded along solemnly. Evelyn's finger moved to an image of a clock with a stern face. "No-no number three: Littles need their sleepies, so don't miss curfew! Eight demerits for each time you're out past bedtime." I could feel my face heat up at her infantilizing tone. It was like she enjoyed stripping away our dignity one rule at a time. She then pointed to an image of a Little with a sad face standing in a puddle. "Accidents happen, but we must try our best to keep our pantsies dry and clean." Her tone was mockingly sympathetic. "If you have an oopsie without protection in public spaces, it's two demerits for wee-wee and six for poo-poo." Adrian scoffed loudly this time, not bothering to hide his disdain. "This is absurd," he muttered under his breath. "And if it happens in class or labs," Evelyn went on unfazed, tapping on an image of a classroom splattered in brown, "it's twelve demerits—because we can't have messy disruptions during learning time!" Mateo squirmed beside me; I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or some other discomfort. Finally, Evelyn showed us an image of training pants and diapers with cheerful stars and moons on them. "And remember, always wear your protective undergarments if you think you might have an accident." She winked exaggeratedly. "No demerits for protected oopsies!" I clenched my fists again; this whole presentation felt like an assault on my very identity. To be reduced to this—a child in their eyes—was something I couldn't stomach. As Evelyn wrapped up her presentation with more condescending reminders about obedience and respect for our Nest Mother's directives—which could earn us eight demerits or more—I glanced over at Adrian and Mateo. Adrian sat with his arms crossed, his face carved from stone save for the muscle twitching in his jaw. Mateo seemed resigned now, as though he'd accepted this bizarre new reality without question. The presentation ended with Evelyn clapping her hands together again. "Alrighty then! That wasn't so hard to understand, was it? Let's all be good little boys and follow the rules." I could feel my sense of self eroding with every word she spoke; I had become just another Little in her care—no longer Bixente Echavoyen from France but just another statistic in this strange new world where one centimeter had changed everything. And as we sat there—three boys stripped of our agency—I couldn't help but wonder how Eric would see me now if he could witness this moment where I wasn't so much his big brother anymore but just another little boy needing guidance in Amazonia. Evelyn paced before us, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mockery. "You know, maybe I've been too quick to judge," she mused aloud, her voice laced with a taunt that set my teeth on edge. "Perhaps you don't need those... diapers. After all, you are big boys, aren't you?" Adrian's face twisted into a sneer, his pride clearly stung by her words. "Of course we don't need them," he spat out, the venom in his voice unmistakable. Mateo shifted uneasily in his seat, his eyes darting from Evelyn to the floor and back again. "Yeah, we're not kids," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. I clenched my jaw, refusing to rise to her bait. "We're more than capable of taking care of ourselves," I said firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. Evelyn chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Well then," she drawled, drawing out each word with deliberate condescension. "Let's hope for your sake that you can prove it." Her eyes lingered on me a moment longer before she turned away, leaving her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Evelyn stopped pacing and faced us squarely, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I should mention one more thing," she said, her tone dropping to something more serious. "Spankings are a common corrective measure here at Emerson. They can be administered with or without demerits and may be delivered by any Big—professor, staff member, or even fellow students." My stomach churned at the thought. The room felt suddenly too small, the walls closing in on me. I wasn't just stripped of my autonomy—I was exposed to a level of vulnerability I hadn't known since childhood. Adrian's face reddened, his body tensing as if ready for a fight. "You can't be serious," he said through gritted teeth. Mateo's eyes widened in fear, and he sank lower into his chair as if trying to disappear. "And let me be clear," Evelyn continued, each word sharp and precise like a knife's edge, "refusal to comply or retaliation will only worsen the punishment." I felt a mix of anger and disbelief bubbling inside me. This couldn't be real; it was too barbaric, too humiliating. But the look in Evelyn's eyes told me she was deadly serious. "And if you accumulate too many demerits," she added with a slight tilt of her head, "you become eligible for unwanted adoption. It's not a threat; it's simply how things work here." The word 'adoption' hung heavy in the air, laden with implications that sent a shiver down my spine. The thought of being forced into some sort of twisted familial bond against my will was more than I could bear. Evelyn surveyed our reactions with an almost clinical interest. "Consider this part of your education at Emerson," she said, her voice cool and detached. "Adhere to the rules, respect your superiors, and perhaps you'll navigate your time here without such... interventions." The lecture room had become a cage, and Evelyn—the warden with the keys—had just shown us how quickly we could lose everything we held dear in this strange new world. Evelyn's voice cut through the tension, a smooth balm that didn't quite soothe. "Here at Emerson, we are committed to your success," she insisted, spreading her hands wide as if to embrace us all in her grand vision. "Our staff and teachers will go above and beyond to release you from your misery and guide you toward excellence." I couldn't help but snort at the irony. 'Release us from our misery,' as if they hadn't designed the very shackles that bound us. But I bit back any retorts. I had learned quickly that here, my voice held little weight. With the presentation concluded, Evelyn led us outside, her heels clicking a rhythm against the pavement. The campus sprawled before us, an expanse of buildings towering high enough to scrape the clouds. We followed in a line, our high chairs a distant memory but their echo still chafing. We passed students—Bigs and Mids—casting curious glances our way. I straightened my back, trying to regain some semblance of dignity under their gaze. The air was crisp with the promise of autumn, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and something sweet, like nectar. * * * As we approached Sanders Eyrie, I caught my first glimpse of the infamous fountain sculpture—a griffin with chicks, all sporting cloth diapers. The sight was as ludicrous as it was imposing. Evelyn, our Nest Mother, clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with a delight that seemed to mock my discomfort. "Isn't it just adorable?" Evelyn's voice was a melody of feigned tenderness. "Such a fitting welcome for my new kits." Adrian, who towered beside me, snorted at the comment. His voice dripped with sarcasm. "If by 'adorable' you mean utterly demeaning, then yes, absolutely precious." Evelyn's gaze snapped toward him, her smile never faltering. "Adrian, darling, a little more appreciation for your new home wouldn't go amiss." He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Forgive me for not finding joy in being equated to an infant." I couldn't help but agree with Adrian. Everything here screamed of forced regression. I glanced at the statues again and felt a surge of rebellion swell within me. Evelyn ushered us inside, and the hallways offered no respite from the infantile theme. Animated sea creatures frolicked on the walls alongside murals of diapered baby griffins. It was like stepping into an alternate reality where time moved backward. "Welcome to your nest," Evelyn announced as we stepped into the elevator, its interior awash in bright colors and buttons styled like baby blocks. Adrian leaned close to whisper in my ear. "We're not just littles here; we're playthings in a nursery." I nodded silently, swallowing the bitter taste of helplessness. Evelyn caught our eye rolls but chose to focus on the buttons instead. "Fourth floor is ours," she chirped, pressing one of the oversized buttons. The doors opened to reveal our nest—another wave of disbelief hit me as I took in the murals of baby fox kits in a forest setting that decorated our dorm rooms. "This has got to be a joke," I muttered under my breath. Adrian's scoff resonated through the room. "They're really not subtle about their intentions here, are they?" Evelyn's warning came swift and sharp. "Remember the rules, boys. A demerit for disrespect isn't how you want to start your stay." But her words barely registered as my eyes found the changing table prominently displayed in the room. My heart sank at the realization that this wasn't just an educational program—it was a systematic stripping away of dignity and autonomy. Adrian leaned against the wall, looking as if he'd been sucker-punched. "This can't be serious," he muttered. The dorm room was a joke, a punchline without laughter. I couldn't stop staring at the changing table, an obvious centerpiece in this ridiculous charade. It was like a monument to our diminished status here in Amazonia. "Can you believe this?" I said, turning to Adrian and Mateo. "It's like we've stumbled into a preschooler's daydream. That changing table... it's an insult." Adrian leaned back against the wall, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "This place is a masterpiece of humiliation," he said, his voice thick with contempt. "It's not fit for people like us." Mateo tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but it came out forced. "At least there won't be any waiting in line for the bathroom," he joked weakly. Evelyn's penetrating gaze cut through our murmurs as she strode toward us, resolute. Grasping a sealed box labeled “Mom’s little helpers” in juvenile script adored with cartoonish figures with tear-streaked faces and crimson bottoms, she set it down with love and precision. The air grew heavy with the unspoken threat it signified. "Bixente," she said in a tone that sent shivers down my spine, "One more word out of you," she warned, her voice icy, "and you'll become intimately acquainted with what's inside this box." I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as I glanced at the ominous container. My heart raced, my pride warring with the primal urge to avoid whatever degrading secrets that box held. Adrian's posture relaxed slightly, a silent concession to our predicament, while Mateo bit his lip, his usual joviality wiped clean. "Sorry," I mumbled, and the others followed suit with their own murmured apologies. Evelyn studied us for a moment longer before nodding curtly. "Apology accepted," she said crisply. "Now get settled in. Dinner is in an hour." As she left, we exchanged wary looks but said nothing more about our nursery-like accommodations or the box of “Mum’s helpers.” The unspoken message was clear: toe the line or face consequences none of us were ready to endure. I stood there, still trying to digest the sight of our nursery-esque dorm room when Evelyn glided back into the room, a stack of clothing in her arms. The uniforms she laid out before us were a mockery of adult attire, replete with sweater vests bearing the Emerson crest and dress slacks that had elastic waistbands—and to my dismay, obvious snaps along the inseams. My heart sank as I took in the sight. "You'll all look so precious in these," Evelyn cooed, her voice laced with an undertone of delight that didn't match the sinking feeling in my gut. I sighed heavily, the sound lost amidst the rustle of fabric as I fingered the material of the slacks. The snaps felt cold under my touch, a chilling reminder of our infantilized status in this towering world. None of us uttered a word of protest, though; the threat of 'Mum's helpers' still hung over us like a storm cloud ready to burst. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something even more demeaning than the snaps—training pants with juvenile prints sprawled across them lay beside our uniforms. My cheeks flushed with heat at the sight. "You might wear your training pants if you want," Evelyn offered, her gaze settling on me with a smirk that suggested she was enjoying this far too much. "But I'm sure you are too big for them," she taunted, her eyes challenging me to contradict her. I shook my head in disbelief, my pride wounded yet knowing better than to give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. "No thanks," I muttered under my breath, picking up the uniform with a sense of resignation. Carefully, I dressed myself, ensuring that my boxers remained securely in place beneath the slacks. Each snap closed with a soft click that echoed loudly in my own ears—a sound that marked not just the fastening of clothes but also the closing of one chapter of my life and the unwilling start of another. Adrian and Mateo followed suit without comment, each movement deliberate and laden with an unspoken understanding between us—we were all trapped in this farce together. As we finished dressing, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: a young man made to look like a preschooler playing dress-up for an audience that found this whole charade endearing. Evelyn observed us with an approving nod. "Perfect," she declared as if we were dolls she had just arranged for display. And despite our outer compliance, inside we were anything but resigned to our fate. * * * I trailed behind Evelyn, our Nest Mother, as we approached the hall where the Commencement Ceremony was set to unfold. The vastness of the space loomed over us, a stark reminder of the grandeur that defined Amazonia. Huge TV screens flashed with vibrant images, a digital mosaic of pomp and circumstance. Tables were arranged in precise rows, each set differing in height to accommodate the varied statures of Bigs and Littles. My eyes settled on the almost normal high chairs designated for us, a subtle yet glaring symbol of our status here. The chairs weren't the towering monstrosities I had feared, but their slightly exaggerated dimensions and restraining bars spoke volumes. As we wove through the crowd to our assigned seats, I noted the sparse population of Littles. We represented less than sixty students, each of us flanked by a Nest Mother's watchful presence. There was no mistaking it; we were in their world now. Adrian plopped down beside me with a sigh that seemed to carry all his reservations. "Can you believe this?" he whispered, his eyes scanning the sea of Bigs around us. "It's like we're in some kind of twisted daycare," I murmured back, adjusting myself in the high chair that served as both a seat and a restraint. Around us, chatter from other Littles blended into a symphony of mixed emotions—excitement mingled with trepidation. A Little from across the table caught my eye and leaned forward. "Hey," she said with a hesitant smile. "I'm Cora. How was your first day?" I offered her a rueful grin. "It's Bixente. And let's just say it's been... enlightening." My fingers traced the edge of my chair unconsciously. "What about you?" Cora shrugged, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her uniform skirt. "It's strange," she admitted. "One minute you're an adult, and the next..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured to our surroundings. Adrian chimed in, his tone laced with irony. "Yeah, one step through that portal and poof—hello childhood 2.0." Laughter bubbled up from a Little at the far end of our table—a guy with sandy hair who seemed to find some humor in our predicament. "I'm Jesse," he called out to us. "And honestly? I figured it'd be weird, but this is like living in a cartoon." A chorus of agreement rose from our little enclave within the hall as others shared snippets of their day—missteps leading to demerits, unfamiliar customs causing confusion, and that perpetual sense of being out of place. Evelyn watched over us like a sentinel, her eyes soft yet alert for any sign of distress or disobedience among her charges. She caught my eye and gave me an encouraging nod. "I know this is all very different for you," she said gently, her voice cutting through our conversations. "But remember why you're here. This ceremony marks the beginning of something extraordinary—a journey not just through academia but also through self-discovery." I couldn't help but wonder if that journey included rediscovering what it felt like to be three years old again. The hum of conversations faded as the commencement ceremony kicked off with speeches that resonated through the hall. Bigs in ornate robes took to the podium, their voices booming with authority and pride. They spoke of legacies, achievements, and the bright futures awaiting us all. I tried to soak in the gravity of their words, to find my place in the grand tapestry they wove with their eloquent speeches. But it was hard to feel like a trailblazer while restrained in a high chair. Then came the meal, and surprisingly, it was nothing short of delicious. My initial apprehension dissipated with each bite of the exquisitely prepared dishes. Flavors burst across my palate—savory, sweet, complex. It was a reminder that not everything in Amazonia was designed to infantilize us; some experiences transcended size and status. Evelyn leaned in as dessert plates were cleared away, her gaze sweeping over Adrian, Cora, Jesse, and me. "You have free time for the next four hours," she informed us, her tone suggesting both a privilege and a warning. "Please behave and enjoy your afternoon." The moment she dismissed us, a collective sigh rippled through our group—a release of pent-up tension from the day's formalities. We rose from our seats, eager to stretch our legs and explore what freedom we had. "I'm going to check out the library," Adrian declared, his eyes gleaming with a hint of his usual arrogance. Cora nodded enthusiastically. "I heard there's an art exhibit on the fifth floor of Althea Hall. I'm going to see it." Jesse slapped his hands together with excitement. "I'm game for anything that doesn't involve sitting still. Maybe I'll find a gym or something." As for me? I felt a pull toward the engineering building—Machina Facultas they called it. It wasn't part of the official tour, but if there was any place on campus where I could feel like myself again, it would be there among gears and gadgets. We parted ways at the hall's entrance, each of us taking a different path across campus. Walking alone felt liberating after being under constant supervision. The campus sprawled before me—a network of pathways connecting academic colossi and lush gardens that dwarfed even the Bigs walking alongside them. I passed by statues and fountains that celebrated knowledge and discovery; their majesty somehow made more approachable by their colossal size. Emerson University might have been built for giants, but it was undeniably awe-inspiring. As I approached Machina Facultas, my heart raced with anticipation. What wonders awaited within those walls? What innovations could bridge the gap between this world and mine? Stepping through its doors, I was met with an air of ingenuity that set my mind ablaze. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, I wasn't just a Little—I was an engineer on the cusp of something great. And so began an afternoon of freedom and exploration—an afternoon where I could almost forget that back home in France, I'd never need permission to simply enjoy an afternoon on my own terms.

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 8: ---------- I opened my front door naked, as Cynthia had demanded via text not five minutes before she arrived. "Good girl," she complimented as she petted me and then gave me a kiss on the forehead. Even enjoying the somewhat embarrassing compliment, I closed the door behind her as fast as I could, so none of the neighbors would get the chance to see me in the nude. She softly ran her middle finger along my lower lips. Gentle, teasing, absolutely confident that every inch of me was hers. She followed me into the living room, where I had subtly half-closed the blinds so that no-one could actually look into the house. She was wearing a backpack, but not for long, as she put it down and opened it right there in the middle of the room. "A diaper?" I asked, expecting more of what she had already done to me. But surprisingly she replied "no." I couldn't actually see into the backpack, so I had no idea what was coming. I thought I heard plasticy crinkles in there though, kind of like the outer layer of a diaper or a pad, but I couldn't actually be certain with what little experience I had with diapers. They might actually sound different, I hadn't exactly paid attention to that the last time. I tried to sneak a peek, but Cynthia kept herself between me and the pack. "Look, there will probably be diapers coming, but you have to earn them first," she said when I kept trying to see. "For now just close your eyes and be patient or you're getting an extra spanking." An extra spanking, which meant I was getting one regardless. That seemed more than a little unfair, but once again it was something that got me turned on. I started to get on to the fact that having her in charge and having nothing to say on that always had that effect. Maybe I should have thrown a tantrum then, just to see what she would do, but I was still too timid. Now I know better of course, it's a lot more fun for the dom if he or she actually has to assert their dominance. Well, for the ones I know anyway, maybe there are exceptions. In any case, I was a good girl and closed my eyes and waited. First she put something heavy around my neck, which she then tightened from behind. A collar, obviously, but I had no experience with them before then so I didn't know. She tightened it a notch at a time, each time asking if it wasn't too tight. When I said "maybe" she loosened it a notch, then changed her mind and retightened it. "Can you breathe?" She asked, and when I nodded she said "good. But do let me know if it gets harder." She then added matching cuffs to my wrists, I say matching because I now had my eyes open and was watching what was going on. Cynthia didn't complain. In fact, she seemed to enjoy how intently I was watching her. When she was done, she grabbed me by the collar and kissed me, then put me on my knees. She didn't say, but she had forgotten to get a leash. She managed to rectify this by the end of the week. For the moment, however, she simply raised her skirt and lowered her panties and pushed her bottom in my face. "Kiss," she said. She hadn't needed to because I already knew exactly what to do. And that is what I did. "Now, Ensie sweetie, show me your bedroom," Cynthia said. She hadn't actually visited my house yet, making it quite impossible for her to know where everything was. Thus rather than going directly to my room, I showed her everything. The kitchen, the bathroom, my parents' room, and then my own. My room was quite different from her own. Hers was much neater than mine. I had posters all over the walls, books and clothes lying around, though mostly in neat piles, and a bed that was simply not made. "You're such a good girl," she complimented once again. "Now, do you need to go?" She had actually let me go in the morning, making my bladder pretty much empty. I shook my head no. "Then drink this," she said, "and clean up your room. What a mess." She gave me a good smack on my bottom for the cluttered state of my room. She sat back and enjoyed the show of me tidying up my room for her. Whenever I came within reach, she smacked my bottom and I gave her a "thank you". She hadn't told me to, but it seemed appropriate. Naturally, by the time I was done I had finished the bottle of water and my need to pee was on the rise. Or rather, I knew I could go if I let go, but there was no real need yet. It was up to Cyn to decide how and where anyway, so I simply presented myself to her. "How's your bladder now?" The question was not as eager as might be expected. Instead it was measured and probing. What exactly she was looking for I could not guess. "I could go." She understood exactly what I meant. As she often did when thing went her way, she smiled. "What do you think? Have you earned your diaper yet?" Those probing eyes were gone in an instant and she was once again looking at me the way she did that night after the dance. "Yes," I answered rather carefully, trying to please her both by saying what I thought she wanted to hear and by still being submissive. I reinforced the latter by looking at the ground, slightly dreading what her answer might be. I would do anything she asked and I was pretty sure she had far more embarrassing tasks in her head than I could possibly dream up. Well, she used to anyway. I know just as many now. "Oh? And why is that?" She grabbed my chin to give me another quick caress of the lips. "Because I proved I need diapers by wetting my pants a couple of weeks ago." Cynthia's eyes practically sparkled. She had never seen and would not ever see someone quite as submissive as me. Someone willing to take the blame for something they did not do and make the humiliation their own. And make no mistake, admitting that you need diapers because you wet yourself is humiliating regardless of truth and purpose and kinks. "Well," she said before swallowing as if she had her heart stuck in her throat. "Putting it that way, taking good care of my sweetest Ensie would mean putting her in diapers." I blushed. There was something there that I could not describe, something that made me feel like I truly belonged. That was weird to me at the time, that I could yet have deeper emotions for someone who I had already slept with. Someone I had given my virginity to, no less. "I will always take good care of my little Ensie," Cynthia said as she lay me down on the bed to put that diaper on me. She powdered me and everything, much more skillfully done than the last time. She finished my appearance by pulling a shirt over my head, one she had brought. It was rather tight, but that was as intended, I think. The shirt was striped white and pink and was rather darling. Not at all me, which was likely the point. Just as Cynthia pulled me up from my bed, the doorbell rang. We both had the same panicky reaction and looked at each other with the implicit question "what to do now?" After a moment's pause, she suggested "I'll go see who it is." I could only nod my agreement, terrified that someone might see me like this. Cynthia disappeared into my parents' room to take a peek out their window, guessing that would be where she could see the front door from. Which was not exactly right, not unless whoever rang the bell stood back far enough. A few moments later I heard her make her way to the living room. She made her way back to my room quickly. "It's Rebecca," she said. And then, casually, "you can go open up." If my eyeballs were ever in danger from popping out of their sockets, it was then. No words would come out of my mouth to plead with her at first. Instead, I gave her my best puppydog eyes. They made no impact. Eventually I managed to mutter "please?" But Cynthia just shook her head no. Tears began to well up. Looking at her made me want to be strong nonetheless, so I presented my arms for her to take the cuffs off of them. Again she shook her head no. I'm pretty sure tears were running across my cheeks at that point, but I knew who was boss, so all I had left was to sniffle the question "can I have some pants or at least a skirt?" She smiled at the question and, as if to emphasize her previous denials, she leaned in and whispered "no" in my ear. When I still hesitated, she sent me out of my own room to go open the front door with "come on now, Ensie my darling, it's not polite to keep guests waiting." Each step toward the front door came slowly, even with Cynthia right behind me to keep me moving forward. She didn't really push, yet her hand was definitely insistent as it rested on my back between my shoulder blades. The front door felt as if it was going to crush me every step of the way, even when I was holding the knob. Especially when I was holding the knob. Rebecca was looking at the living room's window, probably wondering if anyone was actually home. That's how long I took to actually open the door. Of course, once she noticed I had opened the door her jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Ensleigh, what are you... Ens... What?" "Please come in," I practically begged of her before anyone else had a chance to see. Not that that was actually going to happen. She hadn't noticed my tone, she was too busy staring at me. Thankfully, she did come in. Before I could ask her to sit down she asked "is that what it looks like?" "Yes, it's a diaper," Cynthia confirmed matter-of-factly, already sitting down in one of the single chairs behind me. Rebecca had not even noticed her yet before then. After that question, Rebecca's stare bored into her. "Was this her idea?" Rebecca asked, refocusing on me. I couldn't think of anything and Cynthia only nodded to encourage me when I looked at her. I could only repeat what I had already admitted to my girlfriend, possibly even more redfaced than I already was. "I need diapers because I wet my pants." "Ens, that is fucking crazy. Even if you wet your pants once, she has no right to put you in diapers!" So much for being a closed book. I don't remember whether I was too nervous or whether I thought that that was what Cynthia wanted me to do, but I wet my diaper right there and then. Rebecca paled and swallowed. Silence dragged on for a while, me standing in the middle of the room with my best friend and my girlfriend staring at me and my wet diaper. Embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as I was nervous at what either of them might say at any moment. My heart was beating in my throat and I was too terrified to look at them. Instead I looked at my feet, right past the pale yellow bulge of my diaper. Rebecca eventually sighed and mumbled something under her breath. "Can I change her diaper?" She addressed Cynthia and her usual reserved nature was back, not revealing just how much she wanted that. She had a crush on me, remember? "Oh, no-no, she doesn't need a change yet," Cynthia answered as sweetly as she could manage. "What? You're just going to let her stay in a wet diaper?" "Rebecca!" Cynthia took on a motherly tone, springing the trap that she set up with her sweet tone. It certainly had its effect on Rebecca who had to swallow again and automatically focused on her. "If I put her in a new diaper every time she used it, I'd be changing diapers all day. She'd go through dozens of them and those things actually cost money, dear." With a deep breath Rebecca countered "then put it on me so it won't go to waste." Even with her trying to defend me like this, I still didn't see that she had a crush on me. I could tell just from Cynthia's tone that suggestion did not sit well with her. "That would be a tad too intimate, don't you think? Besides, you clearly don't need diapers, you haven't even wet your pants." That was a terrible thing to say, in hindsight. Rebecca seriously developed a case of wanting to be in our little private group and she tried to do that by wetting herself. In public. That was not a good day. I think we were lucky that day that Rebecca didn't need to pee or she would have wet herself right there and then. Well, either that or she simply couldn't yet. Wetting yourself the first time is not easy. As I already said, my first took a long time and that was because you have a strong mental inhibition against peeing yourself from potty training. You're not really aware of it, but it's there and getting past it requires either a lot of desperation or a strong belief that doing so is ok. "I think I should go," Rebecca said after a while. There was a hint of defeat in her words, the tone of her voice did not betray any such emotion however. I was too preoccupied with my situation at the time to really realize what her visit had been about. Obviously she had come to talk about Cynthia and me and how I hadn't told her before the dance. Maybe if I had talked to her then, she wouldn't have had to go to such extremes to get my attention later. Well you can't change your mistakes, only learn from them. She left without much of a hassle. When she was gone Cyn smacked me on my bottom accompanied by a "naughty girl". My ignorance of what I'd done must've been readable on my face because she took one look at me and explained "you wet yourself without my permission." "Sorry," I offered. That wouldn't do, of course. An apology is just acceptance of guilt, the only way to make up for your mistakes is to accept punishment. Cynthia really did love to put me in the corner. She undid my diaper, laid it out in the corner and then pushed me face down into it. "And now you can think about what you did for a while." While I lay there in the corner, my bottom was suddenly struck. I yelped in surprise and nearly fell over. It was a sensation I didn't know. Cynthia had spanked me before but this felt more like a claw scratching my backside. It was a flogger, which has the lovely property that individual strikes are felt but not really painful. And that means that you can go on for a while, as the gradual build up also stretches the tolerance for pain for the person on the receiving end. So that's exactly what Cynthia did. After a while she stopped on her own. "How are you not crying yet?" She asked. "We've been at this for over half an hour." I had to take a few breaths to answer and I decided to go with humor. "The diaper has been soaking up my tears." Cynthia giggled at that. "And I will take any pain you want to give me, there's no gift from you I will deny." The rest of that day was all about getting comfortable. She allowed me to take a shower after she was done flogging me and before she put a new diaper on me. It didn't look like those were going be left out any time soon. She personally made dinner, and the afternoon was filled with cuddling on the couch.

Have you ever drank lots of liquids ie like pop or tea then held your per until you couldn't anymore then let it go and along came a poopy messie with your pee pee too? I find this so satisfying but also doing a rubbies in my diaper aka nappy until it get sticky wet too!

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 7 When Tracy woke up, the sun was high outside her window. She checked the old alarm clock next to the bed and found that she had been asleep for almost fourteen hours. And to her great relief, she hadn't wet herself again. She did, however, have to go to the bathroom. Badly. Tracy tap-danced to the bathroom and was in such a hurry that she almost tripped over her own pants as she pulled them down. Stumbling the last couple of steps, she barely made it in time. As Tracy sat there, she couldn't help feeling like something was missing. Her thoughts kept returning to the events of the evening before. Sex-VR's had been around since roughly five minutes after VR itself was invented. And simulated orgasms was one of their main selling points. 'Satisfaction guaranteed!' It wasn't like last night's VR-experience was the weirdest thing she had come to. One time, she had ended up having an orgasm while dressed as a blue, plush squirrel, sitting atop an iron lung containing Margaret Thatcher as it was dropped out of a B-52. That had been disturbing. The problem was the fact that she had wet herself in real life, just like in the VR. She had never heard of a VR overriding the safety paralysis. She didn't even know if it was technically possible and not to mention if it could have any side- or after-effects. She would have to find out in case this was an emerging trend in VR's. After a quick shower, Tracy decided that her own personal research would have to wait. She got dressed and rolled the suitcase up to her desk to hook it up to her desktop computer. Business before pleasure; or at least before satisfying my own curiosity. Tracy opened the files she had copied and began the slow and tedious work of tracking down Dennis' activities. Five hours, seventy-three printouts, four cans of energy drinks and two microwave burritos later, Tracy finally found what she was looking for. "OK Dennis, let's see some proof here." Tracy began scrolling up and down, following the information through the file, and that's when she found something she wasn't expecting. The giant woman hadn't been computer generated. She had been another user. That's when something occurred to Tracy and a quick search through the files confirmed her suspicions. The 'small'- and 'large' options wasn't about the avatar polygon count. It determined the role you had in the VR. This put Dennis in a whole new light, because as far as Tracy could see, Dennis was a 'large'. "So, you're not into wearing diapers," Tracy said to the screen. "You want someone else to wear them. I'm not sure your wife will think that's any better." Tracy wagged a finger at the screen. "You, my friend, are in some serious doo-doo." She paused, then added "In more ways than one," and chuckled. Tracy opened a desk drawer and rummaged around to find a new thumb drive. After ripping apart the packaging, Tracy began copying all the files to it. It was always a good idea to have all the evidence ready for the client when you break the news that their spouse is sneaking around behind their back to change the diapers of other people. That sort of thing was generally not covered in the marriage vows. "Now... How much money did you spend on this Dennis?" Tracy dove back into the files, looking for the financial information. Finding it was a piece of cake, but unfortunately, it was encrypted. Tracy made a few alterations to the code she had copied so she had an unlimited number of tries to enter the password instead of the customary three. Then she started a brute force decryption program. Depending on how complex the password was, it could take five seconds or it could take five weeks, but her phone would let her know when the program was done. In the meantime, she had other matters to investigate. ~~~ "Come on Ratzie, it's a simple enough question." Tracy almost had to shout to be heard over the music in the strip club. Ratz, her supplier of software of questionable legality, was distracted by the curvy blonde gyrating on the stage. Tracy snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hello, Earth to Ratzie. Are you even listening?" Ratz tore his eyes away from the stripper and sighed. "Yeah, I heard you. You wanted to bypass some security systems. I thought I sold you a battering ram a couple of weeks ago." "Not security systems. I asked if it was even possible to bypass something like the VR safety paralysis." "Fuck if I know. I just do software." Ratz returned his attention to the dancer. Tracy moved around the table, blocking Ratz' view. "What do you mean?" "That shit's hardwired; like BTL's. You need a hardware engineer." "Fine, do you know any?" Tracy moved again, making sure she blocked Ratz' view. "Hell no. I don't handle BTL's, you know that. Skinner would kill me alive if he caught me dealing on his turf." "Kill you alive?" Tracy raised an eyebrow and tried to give Ratz a did-you-even-hear-what-you-just-said look, but he was busy trying to see what was going on behind her. "Oh, never mind." "Fine fine fine, now do you mind moving? Candi and Ruby are up and I looooove a double feature." Tracy walked out of the strip club, dodging a group of drunks who looked like they were two thirds of the way through a bachelor party. The only things left for them was the strip club, the drunken brawl and spending the night in the drunk tank. Once she was outside and could hear herself think again, Tracy checked her phone. Still nothing from her computer. OK, so Ratz was a bust. And I don't know any hardware... Hang on; Kat. Tracy pulled out her phone again and called Jessie. The phone rang for almost half a minute before Diego picked up. "Yes?" "Oh, hey D. Is Jessie there?" "She is racing." It was hard to hear him over the crowd and engines on his end. "Can she call you back in a while?" "Actually, I was just wondering if Kat's still around. I need to talk to her about something." "Yes, but she is on a date. Is it important? I will send you her number." "Nah, nothing that can't wait. I'll come by tomorrow. Say hi to Jessie for me." Tracy's phone gave a soft buzz letting her know there was a message. "I will." Tracy hung up and checked the message. It was Kat's number and email address. She thought about sending her a message, but decided against it. Getting back in her car, Tracy headed back home. On the way, she went over what little information she had and tried to formulate a plan. OK, the VR is somehow able to override the safety paralysis and provoke a physical reaction. How? No idea. Check with Kat; maybe she'll be able to figure it out based on the log files. Why make the users wet themselves? Why not; that's what they're there for to begin with. But why include the extra code? Did it make the experience more intense? Tracy considered that last point. The virtual orgasm had been unlike anything she had ever experienced before in VR; or in real life, for that matter. A loud car horn brought Tracy back to her senses. The light had turned green and apparently the car behind her was in a terrible hurry. Tracy stepped on the accelerator and the van shot forward, placating the speed demon behind her. It didn't take long before her brain began churning again. What was supposed to be a fairly straight-forward surveillance case had given her more questions than she knew what to do with. And they all circled back to the hardware riddle. That was when a tiny little voice in the back of her head pointed out that maybe it wasn't the site that had made her pee. After all, she had done it voluntarily the second time. Would she still have wet herself if she hadn't done it on purpose in the VR? All these questions, and more, led Tracy to the same, inevitable conclusion. "I need more data," Tracy said with an exasperated sigh. She was going to have to go back to the website. And that just brought up a whole new set of challenges. If it really was the VR making her wet herself, not doing it on purpose wouldn't make a difference and she would need to take precautions. After all, she really didn't want to log out and find herself sitting in a puddle of pee again. She wasn't sure she could handle the indignity, or the laundromat at night, again. On second thought, maybe I should wait until I've had a chance to check with Kat. Tracy's phone gave a triumphant fanfare. The password protection was cracked. That was quick. Looks like I'm going to be combing through financial records tonight. Tracy stopped at a liquor store to get some vodka, the high-octane, rocket fuel kind, before going home. If she was going to spend the rest of the night tracking anonymous payments, she was going to need it. Almost four hours of mind-numbingly tedious spreadsheets later Tracy finally found what she was looking for. After locating Dennis' money transfers she noticed that the numbers didn't match what she had paid unless he paid more than six times what she had paid. So she had started looking where the money went and that's when she hit the jackpot. The profits of the website went to a bank account registered to a Denis Devereau. There was no way that that was a coincidence. Dennis wasn't a customer. He was running the site. And he was making some serious cash. "Dennis, Dennis, Dennis. Hiding money from the missus? Not very smart." Tracy wagged her finger at the screen. "Also, 'Denis Devereau'? You couldn't find a better fake name?" Tracy carefully documented all the financial information and copied it to the thumb drive for Mrs. Devereaux. Previous experiences had taught her that having this kind of evidence for future divorce proceedings sometimes resulted in a bonus, and those were always welcome. By the time she was done, it was closer to early morning than late night, so Tracy decided to go to bed. She was going to need some sleep if she was going to have to deal with Kat.

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.

Author's notes: - For this story I only wrote a prologue. If there's any interest, I will try continuing this one. - This story is not set in the US, which means that holidays and so on may sound a little off for the majority of readers. Just roll with it. ====== Prologue : Caught ------------------- It was the middle of autumn and the first week off for college and university. It was a veritable exodus of students all rushing to go home for Halloween break, including Lynn's two housemates Madison and Peony. Lynn herself didn't really have any need to do so. Her parents lived a lot closer, making it convenient for her to occasionally go home during a weekend here and there. Not this weekend, though. She had made plans, having the whole house to herself with her housemates gone for a week. The kind of things you could only do with no-one around. She was excited and eager to start. The front door opened, bringing in a gust of chill autumn air along with Peony's windswept hair. Lynn giggled and took a step toward Peony to help, but she was already stroking back her hair and tucking it behind her ears, smiling as she began unbuttoning her long coat. When she saw Lynn she let out het contentment. "Vacation at last," she said. "Technically, vacation starts on monday," Madison interrupted as she descended the stairs. She took every step slowly and carefully, being forced to carry her luggage before she could plop it down on the floor and roll it after her. Madison had been waiting for Peony to get home. They had agreed to depart together, seeing as they both needed to take the same train and given that Peony's last class ended rather late in the day, they would also avoid the busiest moments at the train station. And that suited both of them quite well. It did not suit Lynn though. She had been preparing for her friends to leave for the last two weeks, getting all the supplies she needed to fully enjoy her time alone in the house. They were still tucked neatly in the back of her wardrobe, but she'd had a hard time leaving them there all day. Her fingers were itching to grab them, and itching hard enough to distract her from everything else she had planned to keep herself occupied throughout the day. Like going over this week's classes and doing repeat exercises. Peony had prepared her bags last night and they were waiting for her in the living room. She gave them a glance and then headed upstairs, shouting at Madison. "Technically, I'm going to freshen up and then we can go." Madison smiled after her before she asked Lynn: "so, what do you have planned?" "Oh just studying and going home on tuesday," she blurted out to keep herself from blushing. Naturally it came out to forcefully, making Madison raise an eyebrow at her, which in turn made her blush anyway. She looked down. It was hard not to be embarrassed by what she had planned, even though she would be all alone. It just wasn't something that someone who was pretty much an adult should be eager about. "Well, just have some fun, alright?" Madison said with a slight smile on her lips, like she knew exactly what Lynn had planned. Lynn felt lightning go through her back and she shuddered, but before Madison could say anything Peony came bounding down the stairs, cheerfully calling "I'm ready." She had a smile on her face, her curly hair tied behind her head to avoid the same mess she had walked in with. "Ready, Mads?" She asked. "You betcha," Madison said with a last glance at Lynn. They grabbed their coats and before Lynn well realized it, she was standing in the doorway to the living room. All alone in the house they had rented for the year. She blinked, a bit flabberghasted at how much her heart was beating nervously in her throat. She stood looking at the front door for ten more minutes, scared that Peony and Madison would come walking back through that door. Slowly she took her first step toward the stairs. And then another, and another. On the stairs she threw a last look back at the front door and then deliberately kept a normal pace, allowing herself for a few moment to really long for that feeling between her legs. Her bedroom was large with a classical looking wardrobe that occupied the wall next to her full-sized bed. Her working desk, as large a one as she could get in there, stood on the wall opposite the bed. It was stacked with books, both for her studies and just to read. Her laptop stood waiting for her in the middle of her desk. She would grab that later. For now, she stood in front of her wardrobe, holding the handles while her fingers trembled slightly. She pulled the large wooden doors open and pulled out the strategically placed blanket to reveal her underwear for the next few days. It was a pack of adult diapers. She'd gone out of her way to go to pharmacy in a place she normally never visited and then had to go back the next day to pick up the pack she had ordered. They'd been carefully hidden in her backpack, but she had still feared being discovered by someone who looked at her. Even now, she had to swallow at the thought. There was no need to be scared of course, the only two people who could discover her here were well on their way home. So, she grabbed the pack of diapers and did what she had wanted to do almost two weeks ago: she tore it open, running two fingers across the stack of folded plastic. She slowly undressed herself, taking off her blouse and her bra, her socks and her pants. She hesitated at her underwear, taking it off very slowly and carefully, as if she was not looking forward to what came next. It was just pretend. Or maybe it was that weird feeling in between eagerness and suspense. Tugging at one the diapers, she was met with fierce resistance. They were packed so tightly that her fingers couldn't get enough grip to pull one out. She gritted her teeth, wriggled her fingers in as deep as she could, and pulled again. The diaper came loose and Lynn toppled over backwards. She sat up giggling, enjoying how silly she felt. Whatever unease was left melted away. Her excitement remained so she unfolded the diaper on her bed as best she could. It took some careful exploration since adult diapers were unfamiliar and a lot bigger than the baby diapers she had held and changed before. With her right hand she cupped her sex for a moment, imagining how the diaper would fit on her and then parked her bottom on the diaper on her bed. She tried pulling the front flap up between her legs, her legs automatically closing when the fabric tickled the inside of her thighs. Despite being all alone she blushed. That was not a solution, so instead she laid down, almost like a baby. Spreading her legs, she pulled the diaper up between them. It took a little wriggling and adjusting to get the front and the back to align on her waist so she could snugly tape it shut. She must've stood admiring her diapered bottom in the mirror for fifteen minutes before she decided it was time to go back downstairs. She considered doing it dressed in only a diaper, but longing for this moment, she had selected an old dress that was now quite on the short side for wearing over it. The skirt short enough that it wouldn't take much to get a peak at the diaper she was wearing. She just barely still fit into it, the skirt starting a little higher than looked good and ending not much below her diaper. If she twirled, she would probably reveal herself. She did, in front of her mirror, and could indeed see the flash of white plastic that was her diaper, though only for a second. She bit her lip and excitedly went downstairs. In the living room, she pulled her cozy blanket and plopped it on the ground. Normally it was intended for cosying up when they were watching a movie. However, she had actually decided on reading a book today, not watching a movie, though she didn't really understand why. So she grabbed her book and lay down on her blanket, giving her diapered bottom a loving caress as she started reading. The book was one she had had to read in high school, about a boy who got a prophecy that he only had two weeks left to live. She had forgotten a lot about the book since, so it seemed a good choice because it would be interesting to re-read and yet it also wouldn't matter if she stopped in the middle. "Sander bumped his bike into the sidewalk..." the book began and Lynn tried to focus on the words and the soft feeling on her bottom at the same time. Oddly enough, she managed to entwine the two feelings together for a long time. The page number went up very quickly. Just laying back down after having gone for a glass of water, she heard something fidget at the front door. Unconcerned she lifted her head to take a look and then she heard the key unlock the door and she could just barely see the door swing inward from where she was in the living room. And she panicked. She wanted to flee upstairs but there was not enough time or room to make it to the staircase as Madison and Peony dragged their suitcases back inside. All Lynn could do was throw half of her blanket over herself so she was bundled up completely and nothing peaked out. "Oh, hey Lynn," Peony said as she began taking off her coat. Madison swiveled in the middle of removing her second arm from its sleeve, sending the coat flying toward the stairs. She opened her mouth, nothing coming out at first. "I thought you'd be in your room," she said after a moment or two. Giving her companion a look, Peony went on explaining. "They canceled all trains tonight. Or at least, they couldn't give any guarantees that any more trains would leave tonight. Some serious issue with the tracks not very far out of the station." "Yeah, they advised everyone to take busses if they could," Madison added, "but the last one that might get us home had already left." Peony smiled. "It's okay. We already called home and we should be able to take a train in the morning." Madison did not look as happy with the news, but instead she focused her attention back on Lynn. "So what are you doing?" "Just reading," Lynn blurted out faster than she wanted to. "So," Peony came to her rescue before Madison could say anything, "want to watch a movie together since none of us have anything planned?" Walking into the living room, she added toward Lynn: "And you're already in your blanket anyway." Lynn swallowed, trying to hide her anxiety about her roommates finding out what she was wearing underneath. Her throat felt like it would croak if she said something, so she just nodded an okay, tying her blanket around her like a towel. She tested getting up, making sure the blanket would not come undone, then bent back down to pick up the book. Peony was already sitting on the couch, patting the seat next to her before Lynn could excuse herself to go upstairs to put away her book. She felt herself blush a little, but she put her book on one of the cupboards and then went to sit next to Peony. "Can I share your blanket," Peony said as Lynn sat down. Normally Lynn really liked cuddling up to Peony. Her roommate was tall and warm and always ended up caressing her, making Lynn feel loved in a very good way, like Peony would always take good care of her. Today it instead felt like a trap and it was entirely her own fault. She could not risk her roommates discovering she was wearing a diaper, so instead she said "I'm really cozy right now, can I please stay like this." "Aww," Peony murmured, wiping away a tear forming in Lynn's eye, giving her a kiss on the forehead, and pulling her close, blanket and all. Finally, she added her own blanket over the two of them. Madison finished putting on the movie, The Time-Traveler's Wife, and climbed into the other side of the couch, pulling her own blanket over herself. Lynn knew why she was in her blanket, yet the weather really wasn't cold enough yet to warrant it. Coziest way to watch a movie or not, she had two blankets on her and she was getting warm very fast. It was hard to concentrate on the movie and the movie did need some attention. When she finally gave up trying to follow, even thoughts about the diaper she was wearing or feeling it on her bottom didn't stop her from falling asleep against Peony's bosom. She started awake when someone very close by yelled, "oh my god, what are you wearing?" "She's awake," came the softer voice of Peony who was just putting a pillow under Lynn's head. "She's wearing a diaper, Peony!" Madison screamed out, taken aback. There was still an undertone of excitement in her voice. Lynn's hands shot down her body as if on their own, grabbing the skirt of her too little dress and pushing it to cover her diaper. "Too late for that," Madison blurted out, thankfully not doing anything to expose the diaper again. At the same time, Peony started in a more soothing voice: "Do you need to tell us something, sweetie?" Lynn shook her head no and Peony just kept going. "Have you been having some problems? Bedwetting issues?" Lynn shook her head no again, but her diaper was in fact wet and she had no idea when she had done that. It must've been when she fell asleep watching the movie. "I think she's just a big baby," Madison said, a knowing spark in her eye, "one that can't make it to the potty and wets her diapers." Peony gave her a scowl. "Madison!" "What?" The more forward roommate shot back. "It's true, just ask her if her diaper is wet." Peony didn't need to. If Lynn had been embarrassed before, she must be as red as a stop-sign now. And then she was on her feet and asking "can I please go to my room now?" "Of course, sweetie," Peony immediately replied in her calming voice. "And if you need any help, just call me, okay?" Lynn just barely kept from breaking down in sobs as she rushed upstairs to her room, but the tears were definitely rolling down her cheeks. This was not what she had planned.

Author's note: Ending of the chapter is a bit too sudden. I wanted to get it out today, but I may do some tweaking later when I work on chapter three. Chapter 1 : Awkward Christmas -------------------------------- It was the fourth day of christmas and high time to get back to studying for the upcoming exam period. The weather outside was windy and dreary, a perpetually overcast sky with not a drizzle of rain or a flurry of snow. All it did was pierce into your clothes to steal whatever little bit of warmth you had managed to protect from the bitterness of winter. All in all, the weather was just as miserable as Lynn felt. It didn't matter. Or rather, it shouldn't matter. She had exams coming up and those had to be her priority. That was why she had come back, to have a quiet environment in which to focus. Even if being here made her heart feel like a dark pit and she sulked at having to see Madison and Peony again. She had been avoiding them since they had caught her wearing diapers. She had been so embarrassed they found out and yet she had neither dared to throw them out nor to make use of their soft comfort again. Glancing over them in her closet or her mind wandering off to them brought her such a chaotic mix of emotions as to overwhelm her. Embarrassment, excitement, desire, fear, warmth, shame, sadness. There was no beginning to untangling it all, and her studies took precedence anyway. Her relationship with Peony and Madison had evaporated. They still lived in the same house, yet Lynn was helpless to do anything else but retreat into her own room, for studying, for eating, for reading. Whenever she encountered either of them in the house, her eyes fell to the floor and her feet carried her away. This state of interaction had persisted for almost two months by this point and had left Lynn without any real friends for that time. Backpack and suitcase in tow, filled with clothes and meals prepared by her mother, Lynn stepped back into the house's hallway. The door to the large living room stood ajar and through it she could see enough to see there was light on in the kitchen. Her heart sank a little, as it meant that either Madison or Peony was present as well. She had hoped for solitude so she could study in peace and not have to worry about avoiding her housemates. That didn't look like a valid option anymore, which brought a lump to her throat. With a deep but trembling breath, she put her backpack down. Her meals were inside and had to go to the fridge in the kitchen. That could wait until Madison or Peony had gone up to her room. Lynn herself grabbed her suitcase in both arms and began climbing the stairs up to her room. She left the lights off, as she knew the way perfectly, even in the dark. Her foot found something malleable in front of her bedroom door however, so she carefully dropped her luggage to her right and hit the light switch. Her hand trembled as she reached down to grab the card on top of the package. It was written by hand. Lynn We miss you. So please put on this gift we bought you and come find us. Madison & Peony She could barely read the names with how hard her hand was trembling. Even her teeth chattered. Trying to swallow through the massive lump in her throat she opened the door and pushed the package of thick looking diapers into her bedroom. Only then did she notice there was a second part to the package, a little bag off to the side, stapled closed. She grabbed it and her suitcase next. Turning back around to close the door, she froze. In her head, closing the door was suddenly unacceptable. It was the symbolism of it that brought that to mind, but the real door had to remain open now too. The lump in her throat was joined by her heart pounding in terror and her eyes watering with tears. She could break down and curl up and cry, but she chose not to. How was inexplicable, yet she found herself sitting on her bed, naked, legs tightly closed, heart pounding in her ears, fingers searching for the seam to tear in the package of diapers. Trembling or not, she eventually managed to open it up. They were exceptionally thick. Like they were meant to be as thick on her as normal diapers were on a baby. Unfolding the one she was going to wear, she took in the print on it. There were pictures, cute childish ones, like the person who was about to wear this was a big... baby. That didn't help her trembling hands at all. She blinked to clear her eyes and tried to remember how eager and excited she had felt when she had worn that first diaper two months before. She couldn't bring that feeling back, but the altered focus allowed her to spread out and flatten the thick new diaper on her bed. She laid down on her bed, lifted her bottom and pulled at the diaper to slide it under her. Her legs were still firmly closed, like she was resisting being diapered. That did bring back the feeling of embarrassment she felt the first time. It made her blush, but it also helped, and it didn't. Lynn's emotions were a mess, shooting all over the place. All those emotions she had been trying to avoid were all here now, unavoidable and overwhelming. Her head distracted, her hands did what they needed to do. Her fingers deftly fastened tapes and then refastened them for a tight fit, then slid along the legs to ensure good fit there as well. She sat up. The diaper under her felt like a thick soft pillow, and around her tummy and back, it came up so high she had to look like a baby. She didn't dare to confirm it in the mirror. Her eyes darted around looking for something, she wasn't sure what until she realized her bosom was breathing free. For a second she thought about grabbing a top from her closet, but then her eye fell on the second part of her gift. She opened the bag with a tug and found a top or a dress in the bag. No wait, it had short sleeves and was longer than a top but... oh. There were two flaps, one at the front, one at the back, and buttons to connect the two. She knew exactly what this was, but the word escaped her. She put her arms into it and pulled it down. She was covered in red hearts now, neck to bottom, front and back. She loved it. It didn't do anything to hide her massive diaper though, it was very clear what she was wearing. She buttoned the flaps together. Standing up, she almost felt like trying to cover up her diaper. She knew why. She was supposed to put this on and then find Peony and Madison. She didn't know how to still her feelings. She must've stood there for a good bit just holding the front of her diaper, doing nothing. Doubting. Fearing. She had left the door open for this moment. If it had been closed she would've stayed in her room, instead it reminded her she should go. She descended the stairs one at a time. She couldn't even close her legs anymore, so wide steps were her only mode of transport. She gripped the balustrade with all the tightness she could manage. The stone floor at the bottom made her curl her toes, and yet it felt a little appropriate. The light coming from the kitchen sent a dreadful invitation. Lynn's expectations proved to be a complete blank. Her bare feet wanted to keep away from the cold floor, so with every moment she stepped closer. Her emotions had maxed out, left her not calm, but unable to panic. Pushing open the door to the kitchen was the only thing left to do, so that's what Lynn did. Her eyes found the floor in half a moment. She could hear Peony gasp and then Madison's voice, quietly. "See, I told you this would work." "Lynn, sweetie," Peony began, "We... I mean... Is..." A chair was pushed back and suddenly Lynn's face was in Peony hands and the latter kissed her forehead. A different hand patted her thickly diapered bottom, it still felt like there was a whole pillow there. Peony was looking her in the eye, looking for something. "We kind of figured out you don't actually need the diapers," Peony started over. From behind Lynn, Madison said: "Told you from the start." Peony took a visible instant to choose to go on. "It took us some time to figure out this was more than just an awkward moment that you needed some time to digest. We began to miss you. No more movie nights, no more cuddling up to me. No more hugs." "She just needs a good... boyfriend," Madison threw in, "but she doesn't listen to me about anything." There must've been a look, because Peony looked away and frowned at Madison. Then her focus returned to Lynn. "We want you back, and it's fine by us if that includes how you are now. Okay?" Madison tapped Lynn on the shoulder and she turned her head. "I think your padded butt actually looks cute, but I also enjoy you being embarrassed, so don't get too comfortable," Madison teased, trying to poke her in the side, but the diaper protected and Madison looked down. Lynn heart was beating in all directions again, the quiet before the storm lifted and her emotions bouncing around trying to make sense of what was happening. "I look like a big baby," she said, just trying to say anything. "You do." "Madison!" Peony immediately interrupted. "Peony, shut up. We got her big baby diapers and a onesie, and she's wearing them. By her own choice." Lynn felt her face heating. "Yeah, I'll definitely keep teasing you to get that reaction, but you can just be diapered around the house, you don't need to hide." She felt a smile coming on. "Thank you." "You're welcome, sweetie," Peony answered. "And if you want to talk about it, I'm here, okay?" She took Peony's hand and squeezed it. "I didn't expect this." She felt tears on her cheeks and all of a sudden her nose felt stuffed. And then she was happy-crying on Peony's shoulder. "I'll make you a cup of tea," Madison said, stroking her hair and patting her bottom again. She was really enjoying this. When Lynn's tears dried, Peony helped her to a chair and she drank her tea. They were all quiet again. "Instead of letting this moment dissipate, how about we start this thing right and watch a movie?" Peony suggested. "Good idea," Madison responded, "the big diapered butt can crawl between the two of us." Peony's breath halted for a second, as it were the instant before a sigh, but instead she confirmed Madison's idea. "Yes, and all under the same blanket." Lynn felt small and unable to dissent, so she just nodded while sipping her tea. Once the tea was done, Madison guided her to the living room behind Peony, her hand on the small of her back, the diaper in between. It wasn't even the very top of the diaper. The realization made her eyes drop to her feet. Bundled up between her two housemates, knees to chest, put Lynn ill at ease. Her toes were drumming the pillow under her silently. She was wedged in pretty well, making her hesitate to move her butt so she wouldn't push her diaper into one of them. Nevertheless, at some point during the movie, she was all cuddled up to Peony and her big padded butt was poking at Madison. The next thing she knew the latter was supporting her under the arms and saying "alright, time for bed. I'll help you upstairs."

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 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! ?

Chapter 30: Well...? Thief in Service - by LittleFallenPrincess I must have fallen asleep in Alex’s arms whilst we were watching movies, as I woke up spread across her bed the following morning. But as I looked around frantically, trying to see where Alex was... I couldn’t see her. “Alex? Alex? M... Mummy?” I called out. My heart was racing, but I didn’t know what was causing it, as I had never felt this... this... it felt like I was torn from her. I felt smaller than ever, with my soaked nappy hanging from my hips, as I walked around the room looking for Alex. But my nerves were quickly settled once I heard singing coming from upstairs. As well as the smell of bacon. So making my way down the hallway and up the stairs, waddling the entire way, I followed the sweet singing that lead me to my love. “Al... Alex?” I peeked my head into the kitchen, where I saw Alex cooking. Spinning around with a bit of flair, Alex looked at me and her smile grew. “Good morning peanut! How’d you sleep?” “I... umm... when did I fall asleep?” I asked. “Not long after eating. You looked so cute and peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.” Alex cocked her head and smiled, the same look you’d pull if you saw a kitten or a piglet or a puppy do something cute. “Umm... you look... like you’re in a good mood...” She really did. She looked so different to the Alex I had first met weeks ago. Whilst on the date, and also last night, she looked happy... but today she looked... free? Like she was truly, truly happy. “Because I am! I feel more free than I have in years. I’ve kept so many feelings bottled up... and now, with you...” I rushed over and hugged her tightly. “I met a special little girl who brought my Mummy side back. Now... let’s get that little tummy filled so we can go shopping, eh?” I nodded happily and waddled over to the kitchen table. “We’ll get you changed after breakfast sweetpea.” Alex smiled at me and returned to cooking. ------------------------------------------------- As Alex locked up, I rushed to the private car she had called. I tried as best I could to hide the crinkling coming from my nappy, and Alex reassured me that no one would be able to hear or notice it, but I still felt self conscious. Climbing on to the back seat, I thought about her words earlier, when she was changing me and getting me dressed for our little shopping trip. She had told me that I was to be padded today, that she would pick out my outfit, and that if I was a good girl... I’d get that treat she mentioned last night. She had failed to tell me what treat, but hey, I love all kinds of treats, so I’ve been on my best behaviour ever since. Alex dressed me in a relatively adult outfit, just a simple skater dress that I hadn’t worn in years, along with some tights, my high tops and my leather jacket. On the outside, I looked very much like an adult, but she had put a nappy on me with a couple of ‘boosters’... whatever they were. I didn’t see them during the change, but whatever they were... it’s made closing my legs a bit more difficult and there’s a slight waddle to my gait. I sat in the car and smiled at the driver who looked at me through the rear view mirror. “Anywhere nice today, Miss?” He asked. The driver was young. Not much younger than me though. Short, black hair and a chiselled jaw. Wearing a pristine suit jacket. “Just shopping. Nothing special.” I answered, trying to be friendly. “Sounds fun though. Maybe you could get a fun toy or something...” ‘Wait... what?’ I thought to myself, but before I could go any further with that thought, Alex climbed in and closed the car door. “Shopping centre please, John.” Alex instructed the driver. “Yes Miss.” He replied. I leant over slowly, getting as close to Alex as possible. “Umm... Alex...” I whispered to her. “Yes baby?” She whispered back, leaning in. “Umm... does he... does he know?” “Does he know about what, sweetie?” Alex looked confused. “Does he know about... me?” I gave her ‘that face’, the one that very much said ‘you know what I mean but I’m too embarrassed to say it’. Alex just smiled at me and sat back up. “John, she doesn’t recognise you.” She laughed. John gave a hearty laugh and smiled. “Huh?” I said. “John here is one of the puppies from my birthday party. You probably didn’t see him without the mask.” Alex explained. “Wait... really?” “Yes Little Miss.” John said, smiling at me through the mirror. “Wait... so...” “John works for my company, sweetpea. I gave him a job after some unfortunate changes in his life. People found out about his... interests... and his home was no longer safe for him, so I helped him move and now he’s my personal chauffeur.” Alex explained. “So you have a puppy boy driving you around everywhere?” I couldn’t believe I had uttered those words. A month ago I would have laughed at all this and thought it was super weird. “I have a friend drive me around everywhere sweetie. But yes, he’s also a puppy. He also likes to dress up in frilly dresses too... don’t you, John?” John went silent and his cheeks started turning red. “...Y... yes Miss.” He answered, nervously. I giggled as John pushed past his embarrassment and pulled out into the road, taking us to our destination. ------------------------------------------------- “So babygirl... I want you to hold my hand at all times, okay sweetheart?” Alex ordered in a soft, calming voice. I blushed and grabbed the hand she was holding out as we walked into the shopping centre. “Yes... Mu...Al... umm, what do I call you whilst we’re out?” I asked as we walked down the long hallway towards the centre of the building. “Well you don’t have to call me Mummy whilst we’re out, sweetie. And I especially don’t want you calling it me whilst people can hear us. But if we’re out of earshot, and you want to... by all means, go ahead. Or if you’ll feel less anxious and want to stick with Alex or Alexandria, then you can do that too. Whatever comes naturally to you, sweetie.” Looking around, the shopping centre wasn’t very busy, so I decided to risk it... “Yes... Mummy.” “Good girl. Now, how about we go get you some clothes first? Then after that we’ll go to those places that do home furnishings so we can get you some stuff for your apartment. Then if you’ve been a good girl... we’ll go to the toy shop.” “T... t... toy shop?” “I’ll let you pick out a stuffie, sweetie. You need your own stuffie.” “Umm...” “What’s up?” Alex asked, her voice full of concern. “I... have a stuffie...” I muttered. “You do? Why haven’t I met them yet?” For some reason, I picked up on the wording she used. She didn’t say ‘haven’t seen it yet...’ Instead, she made my little side happy. It was these little things she did that made my heart flutter and my little side wiggle in happiness. “Umm... I... they’ve been in my luggage. Umm... I was too... too nervous to bring her out.” “What’s her name?” Alex asked. “F... Flopsy.” “Well how about you introduce me tonight, and instead of getting you a stuffie, we get you a toy or something instead? I’m excited to meet Flopsy!” She squeezed my hand and I smiled, looking at the floor, trying to hide my blushing face. “And we can’t take too long sweetie, can’t leave Flopsy in that nasty suitcase much longer! You’ll have to give her extra cuddles and kisses once we get home, okay?” “Uh huh...” “Good girl. Right... clothes first!” ------------------------------------------------- We shopped around for what seemed like forever. It felt very much like before my parents died, I’d be dragged around shops I didn’t want to go to, watching them looking at everything and having absolutely no say in what they were buying. But this time... this time at least I got to have a say in some of it. I picked out some clothes in the same style I’d normally wear, like band tees, torn jeans, leather jackets, but for every four things I picked out... Alex picked something out for me. And it was never anything I would have picked. Cutesy dresses, cute strappy shoes, hair bows... the list went on. Very femme. I mean sure, I wasn’t butch, but I wasn’t particularly femme either. I was just... me. But if someone was to put me in one of the two categories... they’d probably say I was more butch than I was femme. After we had spent more money on clothes than I had spent on rent in the past twelve months... we moved onto stuff for my apartment. Thankfully, we didn’t spend too long shopping for that, as we were both getting hungry at this point, so we got a few ornaments and some cushions and called it quits for now. Alex did, however, tell me we would be looking online in the next day or two for more stuff, as this apparently ‘wasn’t enough for the apartment’. ------------------------------------------------- “So... what do you want for lunch?” Alex asked as we looked around the shopping centre for places to eat. “Burgers?” I suggested. “Is that all you suggest? We had burgers at the fireworks display.” “I... umm...” “Oh I know... follow me...” She started walking down towards the elevator, the one that lead to the second floor of the shopping centre. The entire time, she held on tight to my hand, so I had no say in where we were going. As we waited for the lift, I looked at her. “Umm... where are we going?” I asked. “I know a good cafe upstairs.” “Oh okay. What do they do?” “You know... cafe food. We’ll get you a sandwich or something.” “And a milkshake?” I looked at her excitedly. “Yes. And a milkshake.” “Can I help you?” The waitress asked. “Table for two please? And can you tell Rachel that Alex is here?” “Gladly, if you’ll follow me please?” The waitress showed us to a little corner booth and as we sat down in it, she handed a menu to Alex, then handed me one. Once the waitress had left, and we had taken our jackets off and gotten comfortable, I finally felt like I could ask her... “Alex? Who’s...” Before I could finish, someone walked up to the table. “Alex! And who is this lovely... oh!” I looked up to see a woman who looked to be in her thirties, with short black hair, tight fitting jeans and a baggy shirt on. She had what looked like hipster glasses on and... I couldn’t recognise her. “Rachel! It’s lovely to see you again!” Alex responded to her. “What’re you doing here?” Rachel responded. “Just taking little Paige here to do a bit of shopping. We got hungry and I figured we’d come see you.” “Well it’s lovely to see you again! And it’s lovely to see you again too, Paige.” “I... umm...” ‘Wait... when did I...?’ “Forgive her, Rachel. She had this problem with John earlier.” Alex grinned at me. “Wait... is she from the... you know...?” I asked. “The party? Yes! Paige, this is Rachel. She’s one of the littles who attended my birthday afterparty.” “So she came back, eh?” Rachel smiled at Alex. “Oh yes. We’re... taking things slow. She’s new to it all, so... baby steps...” I gave her a death stare for using that pun. “I knew you liked her...” Rachel laughed. Alex then looked at Rachel with the same death stare I had just used. “Sorry Miss...” Rachel quickly retracted her words, looking as nervous as I usually do when Alex goes full domme on me. “You know what I like. I’ll have that and Paige will have a...” “Ham salad sandwich please? And a milkshake!” I answered, sounding more and more like a little. “What kind of milkshake, sweetie?” Rachel asked. “Strawberry!” “Good choice.” She winked at me and took our menus. “I’ll be back soon with your order... Miss. Oh, and I’m looking forward to the event next week!” As Rachel walked away, I looked at Alex and grinned. “What?” She asked, looking at me with suspicion. “You like me!” I teased. “I... remind me to put that girl over my knee at the next event...” She sighed. “You like meeee!” I upped the teasing. “...Yes. I do. Happy?” Alex rolled her eyes at me and smiled. “Very much so.” I swear my grin couldn’t get any bigger at this point. “But you knew I liked you. I wouldn’t have done what we did last night with just anyone...” “Yeah but you haven’t seen her since the party... which meeeeeeeans... you liked me back then too...” “Fine, yes. I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. I liked you the moment I had you over my knee. I liked you the moment I fell in lov...” She shut up instantly and now there was an awkward silence filling the cafe. “L... l... love?” “...Fuck it.” She stood up and reached over, leaning on the table with one hand, grabbing the collar of my top with the other and pulling me in. Her lips met mine and in an instant I was in heaven. My mind must have drifted off during that moment, because the next thing I saw was Alex sitting back down. I could still feel her lips on mine... I could still taste her... “So... does that make it official now?” She asked, grinning at my current state. “I... uh... uh huh!” ========================================================== 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! ?