Leaderboard

I couldn't RESIST this one when I saw this posted on Facebook Brian

Chapter 24 - Security Badges The sun's rays peeked through the tall skyscrapers, casting a muted glow on the sleek and modern DNA Pharmacia building. The concrete jungle was quiet as it was still in the early morning, with only a few people scattered about. Darlene stood out in her polished business attire, in a light green blouse with a suit and pants, and her hair pulled back in a neat bun. The fluorescent lights of the garage illuminated her path, her footsteps echoing off the walls. The air was heavy with the familiar scent of gasoline and exhaust fumes, a constant reminder of the bustling city outside. As she walked towards the elevator, Darlene couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. As she approached the elevator, she noticed something different. A new badge reader was mounted on the wall next to it, along with a sign that read: "All employees must go to level 1 security to get their new badges." Darlene furrowed her brow, puzzled by this sudden change. "New badges, why?" she thought, her mind racing through possible explanations for the unannounced implementation. Upon reaching the security desk on level 1, Darlene's eyes scanned the room, noting the fresh coat of paint on one of the walls with the shiny new equipment mounted on it. The security guard, a stocky man with a stern expression, handed her a clipboard to fill out the necessary information for her new badge. "Excuse me," Darlene said, trying to mask her annoyance with a polite tone, "Why are we getting new badges all of a sudden?" "Over the weekend, we've been working on installing badge readers at all access points to every level," the guard replied, standing tall and stocky, his face set in a stern expression. He wore a standard security uniform, complete with a badge and walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. His arms were crossed over his chest, adding to his imposing presence. He had a buzzed haircut, and his eyes darted around the room as he spoke in a monotone voice. He looked tired, his voice was monotone, and he was clearly tired of answering the same question over and over. "Only specific individuals will be allowed on certain levels without a proper and approved escort. It's the new corporate policy. We need to beef up security to take precautions. But that is all I know. Everyone is asking me why. I have no idea." As the security guard talked, Darlene could tell there was no point in pushing the conversation. Darlene couldn't help but feel skeptical. "But why now? And what kind of precautions?" she wondered. These changes seemed more than coincidental, especially considering the recent events involving John and Avery. "Alright then," Darlene said, handing back the clipboard once she had finished. "Thank you for the information." "Have a good day, ma'am," the guard replied, handing Darlene her new badge with an almost robotic efficiency. As she clipped the badge onto her blouse, her mind continued to churn. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The only way to find out, she decided, was to get up to her office and start making some calls. With a determined stride, Darlene headed back to the elevator; her thoughts focused on uncovering the truth behind these sudden changes. Upon reaching the 5th floor, Darlene swiped her new badge at the access point, its electronic beep mocking her. She clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes as she walked through the opening doors, her mind racing with questions. "Morning, Darlene," said an employee as she strode past with purpose. "Morning," she replied tersely, barely acknowledging their presence which was unusual for her as her thoughts remained fixated on the recent events involving John and Avery. Normally, she would have engaged in conversation with her employees to find out how their weekend went but not today. Darlene continued to think that the attack on Avery should have been more than enough to terminate John, but what if it wasn't? What if he was still here, lurking in the background? The moment she entered her office, Darlene shut the door behind her, forgoing her usual routine of brewing coffee and reviewing the week's agenda. Her fingers trembled as she dialed Julian's extension, only to be met with his voicemail. Frustration bubbled within her as she wanted answers now, and she wasn't known to be a patient woman. She sighed in exasperation as she hung up and dialed Bryan instead. "Hello?" Bryan answered distractedly, clearly not expecting her call. "Byran, it's Darlene. We need to talk about these new security measures." Her voice was sharp, demanding answers. "Uh, sure, give me a second," Bryan said, his tone shifting from surprise to concern as he excused himself from another conversation and asked his employee who he was engaged in conversation with to leave and close the door behind him. Darlene impatiently tapped her foot, trying to control her suspicion as she waited for Bryan to return his attention to her call. When he finally did, she launched into her questions, her words tumbling out almost faster than she could think of them. "Is this because of John? Did they not get rid of him after what happened to Avery?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger. "Darlene, I understand your concerns, but I can't discuss personnel matters over the phone," Bryan responded cautiously. "However, you should know that the new security measures are meant to ensure everyone's safety, including Avery's." "Everyone's safety?" Darlene scoffed. "Or just Avery's? And what about John? Will he still be allowed on our floor?" "Darlene, I really think you should speak with Julian about this. He's better equipped to address your concerns," Bryan said, trying to defuse the situation. "And, yes, John is still here working. You know I would have let him go if I could have" Bryan said in a nervous tone. He could not only hear but feel Darlene's anger over the phone. Darlene couldn’t believe it. Despite everything John had done, he was still working for the company. The man had practically assaulted Avery and humiliated him completely, but he was still employed. Darlene wondered how strong John’s connections were that he could get away with so much. Her thoughts turned to Avery, and she felt a pang of worry. She felt the need to protect the delicate man. She dreaded the poor guy finding out that John was still lurking in the building. "Fine!" she snapped, hanging up before he could say anything else. Her mind raced as she tried to process the conversation, her heart pounding in her chest. If they didn't get rid of John, what lengths would they go to in order to protect Avery? And more importantly, why were they still entertaining the idea of keeping John employed here? As she paced her office, her thoughts whirled like a tornado, tearing through every possibility and leaving her with nothing but uncertainty and anxiety. Darlene glanced at the clock on her wall. Avery wouldn’t be in for another thirty minutes, at least. She needed to get to Julian first. She chewed on her thumbnail, her thoughts racing faster than her heartbeat. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could they prioritize John's value to the company over the safety and well-being of their employees? Especially Avery, who had already suffered so much from John. She began to formulate a plan in her head, her determination hardening her resolve. She would confront Julian, demand answers, and make sure Avery was protected – no matter what it took. Her hands trembled with barely contained fury as she dialed Julian's number for what felt like the hundredth time. Finally, Julian answered the phone calmly. "Good morning, Darlene" were the only words able to escape him before Darlene butted in the conversation. Darlene's voice was like ice on the other end of the line, cold and unyielding. "I am coming to see you about all this new security shit and not getting rid of John," she said curtly before hanging up. With a huff, she grabbed her new security badge and stormed out of her office, her heels clicking against the linoleum in a rapid staccato. Each step fueled her anger – it was an injustice that she couldn't ignore, not when Avery's safety was on the line. The employees who saw her could feel the anger as they all stood back or stayed seated at their desks and watched her head for the elevator. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed quietly, the only sound in the otherwise empty hallway. As she reached the elevator, Darlene swiped her badge and stabbed at the button. The doors opened with a soft ding. She stepped inside her reflection in the polished metal doors distorted by the dim light. As the elevator descended, Darlene's thoughts raced, each one more agitated than the last. What could Julian possibly say that would justify keeping John employed after what he'd done? And why hadn't Bryan fought harder for what was right? When the elevator finally came to a stop on the second floor, Darlene took a steadying breath, trying in vain to calm herself. She stepped out into the hallway, relieved to find she had access to this level. If they had denied her entry, she would have raised hell. Her eyes scanned the space, searching for any sign of Julian's presence. "Time to get answers," she muttered under her breath, determination settling over her like armor. Darlene's pulse throbbed in her temples as she stormed out of the elevator and into Julian’s office, slamming the door behind her with a force that made the framed diplomas on his wall quiver. Her face was flushed, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "Tell me, why are you keeping John? He attacked Avery!” She barely gave Julian time to look up from the papers on his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and unease. Julian's hand raised, and the gesture was sharp, a forceful push towards the door. As Darlene slammed it shut, the sound reverberated through the office like a booming thunder, causing the diplomas on the wall to shake and rattle. The sound of anger could be heard in every step Darlene took towards Julian's desk, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Darlene," he began cautiously, "I know that, but that isn’t the whole story the CEO got.” Darlene clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “The CEO got that you attacked John first, from John himself, and sprayed him with mace.” “That is bullshit!” Darlene screamed, her voice cracking with emotion. Julian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if warding off an impending headache. "I agree, but he spun it that you attacked him. I know he was screaming at the top of his lungs at Avery and throwing things at him, yes, but did he ever lay a hand on Avery?" Julian paused, studying Darlene's expression. "No, but he was going to. He was inches away from Avery’s face! And he wouldn’t back away,” Darlene shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. Julian attempted to remain calm and poised, though she could see the strain in his eyes. "Would you rather I stand idly by and let him get hurt? Didn't you say I was to protect the poor boy when you brought him to me?" “I understand, but according to John, you initiated physical contact with him first.” Julian's words stung like salt in a wound, and Darlene nearly choked on her own disbelief. “In interviewing your employees, no one saw any actual physical contact between Avery and John." “He was verbally abusing him!” Darlene yelled, feeling her eyes well up with frustrated tears. “He pissed himself again out of fear! Don’t you have any concern for the poor boy? Besides, John wasn’t allowed on the 5th floor, and he broke the corporate restraint order." "Which is why we are making sure that will never happen again with the new security system," Julian countered, his tone still infuriatingly calm. “You're lucky we're not writing you up for physical and violent contact. The CEO agreed just to give you a verbal warning.” "A verbal warning? What the fuck! Did John get a verbal warning also? This is so unfair! You know John's character, and you know my character!" Darlene screamed as she couldn't believe how this was now about her behavior and not John's. The room seemed to shrink around Darlene as she struggled to control her mounting fury. She couldn't believe they were turning this on her – all she had wanted was to protect Avery. He was the real victim in all this. A delicate man who needed to be protected from men like John. "Look," Julian began, his voice wavering, "I understand your frustrations, but there's more to this than you know. There's a process we have to go through." "Process?" Darlene scoffed, her gaze piercing through him like shards of glass. "What about Avery's safety? What about the toxic environment this company is nurturing? Are we just supposed to let that slide because John is 'valuable'?" "Darlene, please," Julian pleaded, trying to keep his composure. "I understand how you feel, but we have to trust in the system. We're implementing tighter security measures to ensure everyone's safety." "Right," she thought bitterly, "because a badge system will magically make John a better person." "Julian, I know you're just doing your job, but this is unacceptable and total bullshit. Something has to change, or someone else is going to get hurt." Darlene said. She wasn’t sure if she meant that John was going to hurt Avery or that she was going to hurt John. Maybe both. With that, Darlene spun on her heel and stormed out of the office, leaving Julian to contemplate the weight of her words as he heard the door slamming shut once again behind her like a gunshot. Little did she know, Julian didn’t even get to tell her about the other change they were going to make: putting Christy with Avery upstairs in her department. As she stalked back towards the elevator, her mind raced with thoughts of injustice and betrayal. What kind of world was this, where the victim was treated like the perpetrator? And how could she continue to work under such conditions? For a minute, she considered going right back to Julian and quitting. She stopped herself, though. She couldn’t do something like that, not just because she wanted to keep her job but because she needed to protect Avery. If no one else was going to, then she needed to be there. She had known Avery needed protection from the moment she had seen him, but after sharing that intimate evening, it was no longer a case of needing to protect a weak man. Now she needed and wanted to keep him safe. He had become her responsibility. Perhaps it was stupid, perhaps it didn’t make sense, but her maternal instincts and passions flared whenever she thought of Avery. With a heavy heart, Darlene decided that she would do anything necessary to ensure Avery's safety, even if it meant fighting against the very company she had dedicated her career to. Avery walked into the office, his hair still a mess and wearing baggy brown pants and a light red docker shirt underneath; he wore the white onesie snapped under his crotch, holding one of his disposable diapers in place. He felt a little more confident that no one would discover his diaper with the new clothing helping to hide it. He couldn’t deny that he felt a little embarrassed, though. Onesies were supposed to help toddlers, not fully grown men. The atmosphere on the fifth floor felt unusually tense and quiet. He could feel the weight of unspoken concerns hanging in the air like a heavy fog. As he set down his backpack at his desk, he glanced around, noticing Darlene's office door wide open – an odd sight, considering her habit of spending the first hour of the day secluded there. "Hey, Avery," whispered one of his coworkers, Sarah, from her cubicle, giving him a sympathetic smile. "How are you holding up?" "Uh, I'm okay, I guess," Avery replied with a weak smile, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He couldn't shake the feeling that the entire office was scrutinizing him after Friday's incident. He headed to Darlene's office, hoping to find some comfort in their usual morning routine. The absence of her familiar presence left him feeling strangely adrift. He got a K-cup and started the Keurig to brew a cup of coffee. When he went to open the small fridge to get his creamer, he paused and frowned. It had his name on it. "Avery's creamer." He noticed the date on it showing it had been made that very weekend. He looked around to make sure no one else was around as he opened the top and took a sip. It was sweet, and just as he suspected, he recognized the taste. It was Darlene's breast milk. He blushed almost immediately. All this time, he has been using her creamer, he was using her breast milk. Part of him was very embarrassed, and the other part of him was happy. He had something that would remind him of the night. He poured a little more than normal into his coffee when the Keurig finished brewing. He returned to his desk, taking a sip of the coffee, his fingers nervously tapping against the ceramic mug. He had been a little tempted to forego the coffee altogether and simply take Darlene's milk on its own. Booting up his computer, Avery found an email waiting for him regarding a new corporate policy change. His heart sank as he read the details; it clearly had to do with John and the confrontation between them. A knot formed in his stomach, guilt gnawing at him as he realized the entire fifth floor would be affected by this change – all because of him. "Damn it, John," Avery muttered under his breath, clenching his fists tightly. Why did things have to escalate like this? And what would happen next? He tried to refocus on his work, pulling up the calculations he needed to review, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the incident and its repercussions. He knew he couldn't let John's actions control his life or his work, but fear still clawed at the edges of his mind. "Focus, Avery," he told himself, attempting to shake off his anxiety and concentrate on the numbers in front of him. "You can't let this affect you." A sudden gust of wind blew through the office as Darlene stormed past Avery, her eyes blazing with fury. She appeared to be so tunnel-visioned that she hadn’t seen that Avery was at his desk. The door to her office slammed shut with a resounding thud, causing a few employees to jump in their seats. Muffled shouts and angry words could be heard from behind the closed door. Avery sat at his desk, gripping his pen tightly and trying to make sense of Darlene's outburst. She rarely lost her composure like this; it was unnerving to witness. He stared at the calculations on his screen, but the numbers blurred together as he tried to understand what had upset her so much. Was it his fault? Was she mad at him, or "Did someone say something to her?" Avery wondered aloud, glancing around the office. A couple of his coworkers shook their heads, looking just as bewildered as he felt. "It has to be something to do with me and John and the new security measures," he mused, although he couldn't think of any specific reason that would cause such a reaction besides the new readers. "Hey," one of his coworkers whispered, leaning over the cubicle wall. "You don't think she found out about John, do you?" "Found out... what?" Avery asked, his heart skipping a beat. "Never mind," the coworker muttered, retreating back to their own desk. Avery bit his lip as he tried to refocus on the task at hand - the cell wall calculations. He knew he couldn't afford to let his thoughts drift to John or Darlene right now. With a deep breath, he attempted to focus on the numbers and equations before him, willing himself to concentrate. "Come on, Avery. You've got this," he whispered, forcing himself to push the other distractions aside. Despite his best efforts, however, the tension in the room seemed to weigh heavily on him, and he found himself constantly glancing over at Darlene's door, waiting for any sign of her emerging. He couldn't help but worry about what was going on behind that door and how it might affect their working relationship - and their friendship. "Darlene, whatever it is, I hope you're okay," Avery thought, his concern for her overshadowing the fear that had gripped him since John's attack. The clock seemed to tick louder than usual as Avery sat at his desk, the tension in the air palpable. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck and resisted the urge to fidget again. The soft hum of computers filled the room, punctuated by occasional hushed whispers among his coworkers. It was very hard to concentrate with everything going on. Every voice and sound he heard was enough to distract him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Darlene's office door swung open with a soft creak. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her expression was resolute as she surveyed the room before settling on Avery. "Can I see you for a minute?" she asked bluntly, her voice strained. "Of course," Avery replied, his heart racing as he followed her back into her office, the door clicking shut behind them. "Listen, I just had a long conversation with Julian and Bryan about this whole situation," she began, her hands wringing together nervously. She proceeded to tell Avery about everything she'd learned - the new security measures, the CEO's insistence on keeping John employed, and even the accusations against herself that she'd chosen to leave out. Avery's shock was evident on his face, his brows furrowed in confusion and concern. "Darlene, I can't believe they're putting you through all of this. It wasn't your fault," he insisted, his voice shaking slightly. "It's my fault John and I don't get along." As Darlene calmed down, she sank into her desk chair with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Avery. I'm so sorry John is still here. If there were anything I could have done, he would be gone," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. Tears welled in her eyes, though she fought to hold them back. "Darlene," Avery said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You've done more than enough for me. You've stood by my side and fought for me when no one else would. I'm grateful, more than you know." He paused, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he looked into her tear-filled eyes. "We'll get through this together. I am sorry I caused so much trouble for you," he promised, squeezing her shoulder gently. Darlene's hand reached up to Avery's hand as she looked up at him. "Avery, this isn't your fault at all, don't blame yourself. This goes far beyond you. I feel so bad for you.” She held back her tears, and the two shared a moment of understanding that spoke louder than words ever could. Avery forced a small, reassuring smile onto his face, trying to calm Darlene down. "Thank you, but I still can't help but feel guilty," he said, not knowing the words to say to help the situation. "The new security badges will keep John away." But deep inside, a cold knot of fear persisted; John was unpredictable and dangerous, and Avery couldn't shake that off. "Thanks for everything, Darlene," he added again, hoping to alleviate some of her guilt. It didn't seem to help much, but at least she offered a wan smile in return. As Avery turned to leave, Darlene's voice stopped him. "Wait, Avery," she said, her tone shifting abruptly. "I think I need to check your diaper to make sure it's on correctly." He blushed furiously at the unexpected mention of his diaper, stammering, "I-I think I got it on right..." Darlene shook her head firmly. "No, we can't trust that." With practiced efficiency, she retrieved the supplies from the other night - baby wipes and lotion - and placed them on her desk. "I'm not in the mood to argue about this, Avery. Please lie down." Darlene said as she laid down a large beach towel she brought from home. Feeling his cheeks heat up further, Avery reluctantly complied, lying down on the towel she had spread out on the floor. The cool office air made him shiver as she gently removed his pants, revealing the diaper beneath. His heart raced, both from embarrassment and vulnerability, but he knew that Darlene only wanted to help him. Darlene's delicate fingers carefully inspected the diaper, her eyes focused and determined. Avery tried to distract himself by staring at the ceiling, but he couldn't escape the reality of the situation. The crinkling sound of the diaper material filled the room as Darlene expertly adjusted the fit, her movements precise and efficient. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, it was clear that Darlene was doing her best to be gentle and considerate. "It looks like you didn't put it on correctly, but don't worry, I'll fix it and apply some lotion to prevent any rash," she said in a soft, soothing voice, like a mother caring for her child. With deft fingers, she undid the diaper tapes and gently lifted it off of Avery's skin. He felt exposed and vulnerable lying there on the floor, but he trusted Darlene to take care of him. She applied cool lotion to his skin with gentle, circular motions, bringing both relief and humiliation. After a few minutes, Darlene announced that she was finished. Her voice carried a hint of relief as she snapped the onesie in place, slid his pants back on, and helped Avery sit up. They shared a brief moment of eye contact - a silent acknowledgment of the trust they had just shared. Darlene gathered her supplies and put them away with practiced efficiency. "I think you're good to go back to work now," she said with a smile, her voice filled with reassurance. And for a moment, Avery allowed himself to forget about John and everything else that weighed on his mind. "Thank you," Avery murmured, his gratitude genuine despite the lingering embarrassment. In this strange, difficult situation, he knew he could rely on Darlene to stand by him - and in turn, he would do everything in his power to support her as well. He just had nothing to really offer her in terms of support. As Avery made his way through the bustling office, he couldn't help but think about the creamer he had used in his coffee that morning. The rich, sweet, creamy flavor still lingered in his taste buds. He decided to save his question about it for later and focused on making his way to his cubicle. The door to the office creaked open. He walked out to his own small office space and settled down at his desk. He had his notes in hand as he began to try to get back focused on solving the cell wall problem.

Not very hard to imagine for me, as all were discussed in advance. However I don't recall you providing insight, help, or discussion about residual blood clots, while plenty of other more constructive members did. No one here was surprised. Yes, you go work on your imagination. It might help you.

Chapter: 47 The days between Christmas and New Year blurred together in a gentle haze of infantile routine. Each morning, the soft rustle of the nursery curtains greeted me as Mommy coaxed me awake. The enchanting glow of the nightlights gave way to the nurturing embrace of Mommy's gentle touch, and the routine of each day seamlessly flowed into the next. Mornings began with the comforting ritual of being fed a warm bottle in the rocking chair. The rhythmic motion and the familiar taste of the formula became a grounding force, creating a sense of continuity. The changing table, a familiar station in the nursery, witnessed the routine of diaper changes as Mommy would address the aftermath of the previous night. In the kitchen, the highchair would await our daily feeding routine. Spoonfuls of various baby foods was shoveled in between my awaiting and slobbering lips, their tastes and textures seemingly merging into a symphony of flavors. Playtime in the living room, surrounded by the comforting walls of the playpen, became a kaleidoscope of moments. Toys scattered around, the soft padding beneath, all melded into an amalgamation of cozy familiarity. The afternoons flowed with a rhythm of bottle feedings, diaper changes, and the occasional mid-day nap. Each activity seemed to blur together and flow into the next. Evenings arrived with a repetition of feeding in the highchair, the nursery becoming a haven for the night's routine. Mommy's nurturing hands guided me through the bedtime rituals—a soothing bottle, a final diaper change, and the embrace of my crib. The transition from the bustling day to the tranquility of sleep became a seamless journey. New Year's Eve dawned with the soft touch of Mommy's hand, gently rousing me from my slumber in my crib. The morning light filtered through the nursery curtains, casting a warm glow on the familiar surroundings. "Good morning, my little sunshine! Did you have sweet dreams? Yes, you did, my precious one! It's a special day today, isn't it? Yes, it is! It's New Year's Eve, and we're going to have so much fun together, my adorable baby!" Mommy's loving smile welcomed me into a day that held the promise of celebration. She gently guided out of the crib on wobbly legs towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room, my diaper sagging underneath my footed sleeper. The rocking chair cradled us as Mommy offered the morning bottle, its contents warm and comforting. The rhythmic motion of the rocking chair, combined with the soothing taste of the formula, created a tranquil start to the festive day. Next Mommy addressed the nighttime diaper's aftermath with efficient grace, ensuring my comfort for the day ahead. “Lift those tiny legs for Mommy, that's it! Diaper all fresh and clean, just for you. Now, let's pick out a cute outfit for our special day! Oh, what about this!” Mommy wasted no time picking out a pastel-blue onesie, for the day's celebration. Cartoon characters danced across the material, each one a whimsical companion in my infantile world. Their playful expressions seemed to mirror my own excitement for the festivities ahead. As Mommy secured the snaps, the onesie became a cozy cocoon, creating a sense of warmth and security, as it hugged my diaper tight against my crotch. My tiny feet were embraced by booties adorned with cute animal faces, their softness inviting a sense of snug security. To complement the ensemble, Mommy fastened a bib around my neck, a finishing touch to our celebration attire. The bib featured vibrant balloons and the words "Happy New Year," a festive proclamation for the special day. The fabric draped over my onesie, adding a splash of color. "There we go, all dressed up! Look at you, my precious one! And, of course, a matching bib for our celebration. See the balloons? It's like a little party just for us! Mommy is going to take so many pictures because you look absolutely adorable. Yes, you do!" As I glanced into the nursery mirror, the reflection revealed a vision of unabashed delight. The characters on the onesie seemed to wink back at me, and the bib proudly declared the joyous celebration. Mommy's babytalk, filled with love and excitement, echoed the festive spirit of the day. With my diaper snug and my onesie adorned with festive characters, Mommy beamed down at me, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Oh, my little sweetheart, you look absolutely adorable! Now, let go into the living room, but first!" She reached for a pastel-colored pacifier, its rubber bulb matching the hues of my onesie. As she gently guided it between my lips, a sense of comfort washed over me. The familiar sucking motion provided a soothing rhythm. "Good baby," Mommy cooed, patting my head tenderly. "Now, let's go have some fun, shall we?" She extended her arms, encouraging me to crawl, and off we went – my oversized diapered bottom wiggling with each movement. The living room and my playpen awaited, a playground of possibilities for the day ahead. As I ventured into the living-groom, the playpen stood ready with an array of toys. With a gentle touch, Mommy guided me towards the playpen, its soft sides promising a safe haven for my adventures. As I settled into the colorful enclosure, plush toys surrounded me, and the pacifier remained nestled between my lips. Mommy, with a loving smile, reached for the remote control and turned on the television. The screen flickered to life, showcasing the vibrant colors of the New Year's Day parade. Balloons, marching bands, and cheerful performances unfolded before my wide-eyed gaze. Mommy's narration added an extra layer of excitement, turning the living room into a front-row seat for the festivities. "Look, my little darling, it's the parade! Isn't it amazing?" Mommy exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. The lively music and the lively floats painted a captivating scene, capturing my attention and sparking a sense of wonder. With the parade captivating my attention, Mommy gently pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Mommy will be right back, sweetie. I'm going to get breakfast ready for my special baby." Her reassurance lingered in the air as she left the room, leaving me nestled in the playpen, surrounded by the whimsy of the parade on the screen. In the playpen, surrounded by plush toys and the enchanting parade on the television, I embraced the whimsy of infantile delight. My oversized diaper padded every bounce as I sat on my diapered bottom, the springs of the playpen responding to my rhythmic movements. The colorful characters on the screen seemed to dance in harmony with my joyous bounces. In the kitchen, the clatter of dishes and the enticing aroma of breakfast being prepared wafted into the living room. Mommy's cheerful hum accompanied the distant sounds, creating a harmonious symphony of care and festivity. Sucking on my pacifier, I reveled in the soothing comfort it provided. The rubbery bulb between my lips became a focal point, and with each rhythmic bounce, the pacifier bobbed in tandem. My cheeks hollowed and released with each gentle suck, creating a rhythmic pattern that mirrored the beats of the lively parade. Slobbering on the dummy, droplets of saliva escaped the corners of my mouth, adding to the innocent messiness of the scene. The plush toys in the playpen became unwitting spectators to my unabashed display of infantile bliss. The sweet taste of the pacifier and the tactile pleasure of drooling created a sensory symphony that resonated with the enchantment of the parade. With each bounce, a subtle tickling sensation mingled with the soft padding of the diaper. The playful movements seemed to coax a gentle release, and I felt the warmth spreading within the confines of my diaper. Mommy returned to the living room, her cheerful hums accompanying the vibrant parade on the television. As she approached the playpen, her eyes sparkled with affection, witnessing my exuberant infantile display. With a gentle smile, she knelt down and began to open the playpen gate, inviting me to join her in the next part of our New Year's Eve celebration. "Well, hello there, my little bouncing baby! Did you enjoy the parade?" Mommy cooed in a melodic babytalk. Her loving gaze met mine, and she unclipped the gate, allowing me to crawl. As I wiggled my way out of the playpen, Mommy's hands expertly assessed the state of my diaper. "Let's check if my little one needs a diaper change before we continue our fun day, hmm?" Her tone remained sweet and reassuring, the gentle scrutiny of my diaper merely a part of the routine. With my pacifier still between my lips, I gurgled a content response, acknowledging Mommy's care as we made our way to the kitchen. In the kitchen, Mommy gently guided me onto the highchair, as she fastened the safety straps, her babytalk continued. "There we go, snug as a bug in a rug! Mommy will fix you a yummy breakfast, my sweet little one. But first, let's make sure you're all nice and dry." She reached down, unfastening the snaps of my onesie to check my diaper. "Such a good baby, waiting patiently for Mommy," she praised, her babytalk adding a gentle melody to the moment. As she inspected the diaper, her reassuring coos created an atmosphere of comfort, emphasizing the loving routine of care. With the diaper deemed only a little soggy, Mommy secured the snaps back into place. "You’ll be fine for now. Now, are you ready for some delicious breakfast, my adorable one?" The pacifier between my lips muffled any response, but the gleam in Mommy's eyes spoke volumes about the joyous day that lay ahead. Mommy's affectionate babytalk continued as she prepared a delightful feast for my New Year's Eve breakfast. The highchair became my throne, and as she approached with an assortment of colorful jars filled with baby food, the anticipation bubbled within me. "Here we go, my little one! Let's have a yummy breakfast," Mommy cooed, her eyes twinkling with maternal delight. With a gentle touch, she unscrewed the lid of the first jar, revealing a concoction of fruity goodness. The aroma wafted through the air, and my eyes widened in eager anticipation. The first spoonful approached, and I opened my mouth wide, ready to embrace the infantile delight. Mommy, with playful enthusiasm, brought the spoon closer, and the fruity puree entered my mouth, eliciting a delighted hum from me. Her babytalk accompanied each spoonful, creating a harmonious melody of love and nourishment. As the feeding continued, my hands couldn't resist getting involved. Fingers dipped into the jar, and with a gleeful squeal, I attempted to feed myself. Mommy, with a gentle chuckle, encouraged failed independence, allowing me to explore the textures of the baby food with my fingers. The highchair tray became a canvas for my messy masterpiece. Fruits and vegetables adorned my onesie, creating a vibrant display of the breakfast celebration. Mommy, undeterred by the mess, continued to feed me with a playful demeanor. "Oh, look at my messy little munchkin! Having so much fun, aren't we?" she cooed, wiping a smudge of baby food from my cheek. The babytalk flowed like a soothing lullaby, each word a testament to the bond we shared. Mommy's playful antics turned the mealtime into a joyous affair, where the messiness only added to the delightful chaos of our infantile adventure. With each jar emptied and the highchair tray resembling an abstract painting of breakfast delights, Mommy praised my efforts. "Such a good eater, my little one! Mommy is so proud of you," she exclaimed, her eyes reflecting the sheer joy of the moment. With the remnants of our playful breakfast decorating both the highchair tray and my onesie, Mommy gently started the process of cleaning the tray of the highchair, while giving me plenty of affectionate kisses on the forehead. As Mommy busied herself with cleaning the highchair tray, I sat contentedly in still strapped in tight unable to leave the messy scene. The room retained the comforting aroma of baby food, and the remnants of our messy meal lingered as a testament to the joyous chaos that had unfolded. Mommy’s gentle strokes and playful banter turned the cleaning process into another moment of shared joy. The remnants of breakfast disappeared from the tray, and my fingers, once adorned with baby food, were now pristine and ready for the next infantile adventure. Mommy's loving care, expressed through the rhythmic movements of the wipes, added a layer of tenderness to the morning routine. As the highchair tray sparkled with cleanliness, Mommy's attention turned to my hands. Each wipe was a gentle caress, and the sound of the crinkling baby wipes echoed in the kitchen. Next Mommy reached for a baby bottle filled with warm formula, its nipple invitingly ready for my eager lips. Mommy secured the bottle in my hands and guided it toward my mouth, allowing me to grasp the warmth of the bottle. "Such a big baby now, holding your bottle all by yourself!" Mommy praised, her babytalk a gentle melody in the background. As the familiar taste of formula met my lips, a sense of contentment washed over me. Mommy continued to tidy up the kitchen, her humming and occasional glances my way reinforcing the sense of shared companionship. In this moment, with the highchair clean, my belly content, and the bottle in hand, the kitchen became a haven of warmth and love. The bottle gradually grew lighter as I continued to drink the warm formula. Each sip brought a sense of comfort, and the rhythmic suckling added to the serene atmosphere. As the last drops of formula vanished from the bottle, a satisfied warmth spread through my belly. Mommy, now finished cleaning the kitchen table, approached with a gentle smile. "Well done, my little one! You finished your bottle like a big boy," she praised, her eyes reflecting pride. Just as a content sigh escaped my lips, an unexpected belch echoed through the room, breaking the stillness. Mommy's laughter bubbled forth, adding a playful note to the moment. "Oh, what a big burp from my little munchkin! Excuse you, sweetheart," she teased, patting my back in a comforting gesture. With the burp came an unexpected surprise – a small spurt of formula dribbled down from the corner of my mouth. Mommy's playful demeanor remained unwavering as she fetched a soft cloth, gently wiping away the tiny spill. "Messy little one, aren't we?" she cooed, her affectionate tone adding to the overall sense of carefree joy. With a tender smile and a gentle touch, Mommy unfastened the straps of the highchair, allowing me to wriggle out with newfound freedom. The lingering warmth from the bottle and the comforting atmosphere enveloped me as Mommy guided down from the chair and onto the floor, where I once again dropped to my hands and knee’s and headed straight for the living-room where the New Year's Day parade continued to unfold on the television screen. As we approached the playpen, Mommy lowered opened the side, allowing me to crawl back in and allowing my diapered bottom to make contact with the soft padding, before closing the gate behind me. Plush toys beckoned around me, and the vibrant parade on the television added to the festive ambiance. Mommy's hands lingered, ensuring I was comfortably settled amidst the colorful surroundings. "There you go, my precious one. Now you can enjoy the parade while Mommy finishes up some things," she said, her babytalk weaving seamlessly into the comforting atmosphere. The pacifier, once again nestled between my lips, mirrored the pacifying rhythms of the parade, creating a sense of continuity in the playful day. Mommy, with a final pat on my diapered bottom, left me to bask in the whimsical wonders of the parade. Plush toys became companions, and the familiar characters on the screen danced in harmony with the colorful toys that surrounded me. As I nestled into the playpen, surrounded by plush toys and the vibrant parade on the television, a sudden realization drew my attention. The countdown to the New Year had commenced, displayed prominently on the screen – a digital clock ticking away the hours and minutes. "12 hours," it proclaimed, a reminder of the impending transition into a new chapter. For a brief moment, a sense of awareness flickered in my infantile mind. The significance of the countdown, the anticipation of the New Year's arrival, registered. A part of me recognized the magnitude of the moment, the turning of the calendar that marked a fresh beginning. Yet, as quickly as the awareness arrived, it dissipated into the whimsical wonders of the parade. The colorful floats, the lively music, and the enchanting characters once again captivated my attention. The vibrant spectacle on the television beckoned me into a world where time seemed to stand still, and the cares of the adult world faded away. As the digital clock continued its countdown, I reveled in the sheer delight of the moment. The living room, with its parade and plush toys, became a sanctuary of joy, and the countdown to the New Year became a mere backdrop to the playful symphony that surrounded me. The world outside the playpen faded, and within its confines, I existed in a state of infantile bliss, where the magic of the celebration intertwined with the enchanting sights and sounds of the festive occasion. Amidst the captivating parade on the television and the rhythmic joy of bouncing within the playpen, a sudden, unmistakable sound echoed through the air – a loud, resonant fart that seemed to punctuate the festive atmosphere. The unexpected release of gas left me momentarily unfazed, lost in the enchanting spectacle before me. With each bounce on my diapered bottom, the messy consequences of the loud fart became apparent, although my blissful state shielded me from any immediate awareness. Unbeknownst to me, the diaper, now bearing the weight of the unanticipated load, was a testament to the carefree abandon of my infantile existence. The pacifier dangled from my lips as I continued to bounce, the rhythmic motion seemingly oblivious to the messy reality beneath. The countdown on the television clocked the hours, marching steadily toward the approaching New Year, while I remained in my safe cocoon. As the enchanting parade continued to dance across the television screen, a gradual return to awareness seeped into my infantile mind. The digital clock, now displaying "9 hours" in the countdown to the New Year, caught my attention. The realization that time had passed, though the exact duration remained elusive, brought a momentary pause to my rhythmic bouncing. Gazing around the playpen, I took stock of the scattered plush toys, each one a witness to the playful hours that had slipped away. A soft coo escaped my lips, my attention momentarily diverted from the countdown. The pacifier, still nestled between my lips, added a familiar comfort to the scene. The diaper beneath me bore the weight of more than just the rhythmic bouncing. The messy and soaked state gradually registered, and a subtle squirm hinted at the discomfort beneath my diapered bottom. The plush toys, once companions in the playpen adventure, now bore traces of my carefree exploration. The countdown clock continued its march toward the New Year, and within the playpen, time seemed to regain its fleeting nature. My surroundings, scattered with toys and marked by the aftermath of my blissful activities, became a tangible testament to the hours spent in the carefree embrace of the infantile celebration. As the realization of lost time and my messy situation sank in, a sudden wave of fear gripped my infantile mind. The countdown on the television now read "9 hours," but the foggy uncertainty of what transpired during those hours left me disoriented and uneasy. A soft whimper escaped my lips, the joyous bounce now replaced with a sense of vulnerability. The scattered toys around the playpen, once sources of delight, now seemed to mock my unawareness. The messy state of my diaper, a stark reminder of the hours that slipped through my grasp, intensified the rising anxiety. In a desperate attempt to seek comfort and reassurance, I wailed, "Mommy!" The plea echoed through the room, a mix of fear and confusion woven into the cry. The pacifier, now forgotten, dropped from my lips as my infantile sobs filled the air. The living room, once a haven of joy, felt foreign and unsettling. Plush toys, now witnesses to my distress, lay scattered as silent companions. The countdown clock continued its steady march, oblivious to the inner turmoil that unfolded within the playpen. With each wail, my plea for Mommy intensified. The fear of the unknown, the sense of losing control, permeated the air. The infantile bliss that had enveloped me moments ago now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the stark reality of my mental lapse and the consequences it brought. The sound of my distressed wailing reached Mommy's ears, and with a sense of urgency, she hurried into the living room. Her face bore a mixture of concern and affection as she approached the playpen, ready to comfort her distressed giant baby. "Oh, my sweet Baby, what's the matter?" Mommy cooed, her gentle babytalk an attempt to soothe my anxieties. As she peered into the playpen, the scattered toys and my tear-streaked face painted a picture of my internal turmoil. My cries continued, a desperate plea for reassurance in the face of my disoriented and fearful state. Mommy, quickly opened the gate of the playpen, allowing herself to enter and kneel down next to me, wrapping her around me with a tender touch. The familiar warmth of her embrace began to ease the unease that had taken hold of me. However, as she cradled me, a sudden realization crossed Mommy's face – the distinct aroma that lingered in the air and the noticeable weight beneath my diaper hinted at the dire need for a change. A subtle gasp escaped her lips as she gently guided me onto my back on the soft padding of the playpen her eyes focused on the soaked and messy state of my nappy. "Poor baby, you need a diaper change, don't you?" Mommy said with a mix of concern and affection. The urgency in her voice matched the critical state of my diaper, on the verge of leaking. The countdown clock on the television continued its march, oblivious to the immediate needs that took precedence in this moment of vulnerability. She soon disappeared out of my field of view, only to return seconds later diaper changing supplies in hand as she got to work carefully unsnapping the crotch of my onesie. Mommy, with practiced ease, unfastened the tapes of the soiled diaper, revealing the reality that lay beneath. The weight of the saturated diaper and the unmistakable mess within necessitated a thorough cleaning. Soft baby wipes, cool against my warm skin, swept away the remnants of the messy mishap, each stroke administered with care. As Mommy wiped away the traces of my unintentional adventure, her soothing babytalk provided a melodic backdrop, a comforting symphony that accompanied the process. The gentle cleansing was thorough, ensuring that every nook and cranny received the attention it needed. The scent of baby wipes intermingled with the gentle fragrance of the baby powder, creating an atmosphere of cleanliness and care. The crinkling sound of the fresh diaper being lifted into position heralded the transition from the messy aftermath to the promise of a clean, dry slate. Mommy skillfully secured the tapes of the fresh diaper, snugly wrapping me in the comforting embrace of a new beginning. The onesie, once unbuttoned, was carefully fastened back into place, completing the transformation. The playpen, now a stage for the delicate dance of diapering, became a haven of renewal. With a final pat on the freshly changed diaper, Mommy gently guided me back to a seated position, wrapping me tight in her arms. The vulnerability that accompanied the messy episode had given way to the security of a dry and clean diaper. The nursery, once filled with the echoes of distress, now reverberated with the soothing tones of Mommy's babytalk, assuring me that all was well in the world once again. As Mommy cradled me in her arms, the soft coos of reassurance continued to flow from her lips. With a gentle sway, she whispered, "Well, my sweet baby, it seems like you've had quite the adventure. How about we take a break and let you have a nice nap?" The suggestion of a nap, accompanied by Mommy's comforting babytalk, brought a sense of serenity to the room. I, nestled in her loving arms, felt the exhaustion that often followed the emotional waves of a messy mishap. The prospect of a nap became a welcome proposition. Mommy, with her intuitive understanding, gently guided me back to the nursery, as she carefully laid me down in the crib, the plush toys and mobile above seemed to offer their silent approval of the impending rest. "I think my little one needs some extra warmth for his nap," Mommy mused as she rummaged through the closet. I soon, found myself adorned me in cozy footed-pajamas, each button secured with meticulous care. The snug warmth of the pajamas, coupled with the soft texture against my skin, added to the anticipation of a peaceful nap. With the pajamas in place, Mommy announced, "Now, let's get you ready for a little nap in your pram. The fresh air will do wonders for your baby dreams." The mention of the pram invoked a subtle excitement, as the memories of gentle rocking and the soft sway of the pram evoked a sense of tranquility. With a tender touch, Mommy guided me through the house towards the garage door from the kitchen, where the pram awaited its next journey. The soft glow of the kitchen lights cast a warm ambiance, a stark contrast to the cool, dimly lit space of the garage beyond. The door creaked open, revealing the quiet sanctuary where the pram stood patiently. The familiar scent of the garage, a blend of stored memories and the hint of motor oil, greeted us as we entered. Mommy's comforting babytalk filled the space, creating a soothing backdrop to the upcoming ritual. With a quick push of the button the pram slowly started to lower itself, allowing Mommy to easily help me step over the edge and drop down onto the soft mattress inside, her gentle coos reassured me of the upcoming tranquility. "There we go, my sweet baby. Mommy's going to tuck you in nice and snug for your nap," she murmured, her voice a melodic lullaby that echoed within the garage's confines. The pram, adorned with soft blankets and cushions, seemed to embrace me as Mommy carefully guided me onto my back into its cozy interior. The gentle rustle of blankets and the plush feel beneath me added to the sense of comfort, a precursor to the serenity of the upcoming nap. Mommy, with meticulous attention, began the process of securing me in the pram. The harness cradled me in its gentle embrace. Each buckle clicked into place, and Mommy's reassuring babytalk continued to guide me through the process. "There we go, my love. All snug and safe for your nap," Mommy whispered, her voice a tender melody. The canopy above, with its gentle sway, promised shelter from the outside world, creating a cocoon of tranquility within the pram's embrace. As the last adjustment was made, Mommy leaned down, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "Sweet dreams, my little one. Mommy will be right here when you wake up," she promised. With a final, gentle tuck of the blanket and a loving gaze, Mommy closed the canopy, enveloping me in a world of gentle darkness within the pram. The gentle creak of the pram wheels on the garage floor signaled the commencement of the soothing motion. Mommy, with a soft push, set the pram in motion, initiating a rhythmic sway that cradled me within its embrace. The garage's cool air wrapped around me, enhancing the sensation of coziness within the pram. The door back to the kitchen closed with a soft thud, shutting out the ambient sounds of the house. As the pram began its gentle rocking, my gaze fixated on the interior of the canopy. Soft shadows danced across the fabric, creating a hypnotic display that merged seamlessly with the sway of the pram. Mommy's voice, now a distant murmur, further contributed to the soothing ambiance. Above me, the mobile hung, its delicate ornaments twirling in response to the pram's movement. Each rotation painted a mesmerizing picture, capturing my attention in a silent ballet of shapes and colors. The soft melodies emitted by the mobile played in harmony with the rhythmic creaking of the pram, creating a tranquil symphony that echoed in the garage's serene atmosphere. My infantile mind, still grappling with the confusion and fear of the earlier events, gradually succumbed to the hypnotic sway and the soothing sights above. The plush toys and the gentle shadows within the canopy formed a comforting tableau that invited me into the realm of dreams. With each sway, the garbled worries of lost time and the unexpected messes dissipated. The countdown to the New Year, still ticking away somewhere in the house, faded into the background. Within the cocoon of the pram, my gaze remained fixed on the mobile, its twirling ornaments casting a spell that guided me into a state of blissful slumber. As the pram's rhythmic motion continued, the boundaries between wakefulness and dreams blurred. The cool air, the soft rocking, and the mesmerizing mobile worked in unison to create a lullaby that beckoned my consciousness to surrender. In the silence of the garage, the pram became a vessel, gently navigating me through the tranquil waters of sleep, where the gentle currents of dreams awaited to carry me away. The gentle lull of the pram's rocking gradually faded into the background as my eyes fluttered open. The familiar, muted light of the garage greeted my waking gaze. The mobile above had ceased its twirling dance, and a quiet stillness replaced the rhythmic creak of the pram's motion. As my awareness returned, I realized that I wasn't alone. With a drowsy blink, I focused on the figures standing around the pram. Aunty Karen, her warm smile reflecting familiarity, Uncle Rob holding Jack, who stared down at me with curious eyes. "Well, look who's awake!" Aunty Karen exclaimed, her voice a mixture of amusement and affection. Uncle Rob's gentle chuckle resonated in the garage, creating a harmonious backdrop to the unexpected reunion. The sudden presence of family around the pram stirred a mix of emotions within me. Confusion lingered in my infantile mind, and I sought Mommy's reassuring gaze. However, it seemed that she was not present in the immediate surroundings. Uncle Rob, with a playful grin, lifted baby Jack closer for a better view. Jack's curious eyes widened as he stared at me, his mix of real words and baby babble adding a charming innocence to the scene. The garage, once a solitary sanctuary, now became a shared space where family bonds intertwined. Aunty Karen leaned down, her voice adopting a playful tone. "Did you have a good nap, little one?" she cooed, her eyes twinkling with a mix of fondness and amusement. The realization that I had slept through a family gathering, with Aunty Karen, Uncle Rob, and baby Jack present, added a layer of surrealism to the moment. As I attempted to sit up in the pram, a wave of drowsiness washed over me. The cozy embrace of the pram, the remnants of the nap, and the unexpected company created a tableau that bridged the transition from sleep to wakefulness. Aunty Karen, with a gentle smile, reached down to unstrap the harness securing me in the pram. The clicks of the buckles released, and a sense of freedom accompanied the newfound mobility. The garage, once a haven of solitude, now witnessed the unfolding family reunion. As the harness was loosened, Uncle Rob, anticipating the moment, handed Jack to Aunty Karen. Jack, in her loving arms, observed the scene with wide-eyed wonder, his innocent gaze flitting between the grown-ups and the pram. With the harness undone, Uncle Rob carefully hoisted me from the pram and onto his hip. "There we go, big guy," Uncle Rob murmured, his voice strained but a comforting murmur as he cradled me against his side. The soft padding of the pram had given way to the warmth of his embrace, creating a sense of safety and belonging. As Uncle Rob held me, Aunty Karen gently brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. Jack, sensing the communal joy, reached out with tiny hands as if trying to join the embrace. Aunty Karen, with an affectionate laugh, adjusted her hold on him, allowing his chubby fingers to explore the air around us. Uncle Rob, still cradling me on his hip, gently shifted his hand to support my diapered bottom. The realization dawned as his touch met the unmistakable squishiness beneath the diaper – it was thoroughly soaked and in need of a change. With a good-natured chuckle, Uncle Rob looked at me and said, "Well, it seems like someone had quite the nap, huh?" His playful tone conveyed an understanding that went beyond the surface, acknowledging the inevitable consequences of an extended slumber. Aunty Karen, catching onto the situation, joined in with a knowing smile. "Looks like we've got a little one here who needs a fresh diaper. But don't you worry, sweetheart, we'll take care of that right away." Uncle Rob, still holding me, offered, "I can take care of the diaper change if you'd like, Karen. Why don't you take baby Jack back inside to Susan? I'll catch up in a jiffy." Aunty Karen nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting a mix of affection and gratitude. She gently took baby Jack from her husband's arms, cradling him with practiced ease. "Sure thing, Rob. We'll be inside. You two catch up with us once you've got this little one all freshened up." Uncle Rob, still holding me, looked down with a smile. "Well, buddy, let's get you sorted out, shall we?" His easygoing demeanor and the understanding gaze reflected the comfort of our special bond. Uncle Rob, still holding me with surprising and practiced ease, made his way back into the house. The transition from the cool garage to the warmth of the interior was marked by the familiar sounds of family life. The distant murmur of conversation and the soft laughter created a comforting symphony that accompanied our return. Uncle Rob, navigating the hallways with a gentle sway, and carried me towards the nursery. With a gentle shift, Uncle Rob carefully placed me on the changing table. The padded surface cradled me, creating a sense of security and familiarity. The footed-sleeper, a remnant of the nap in the pram, awaited removal to reveal the soaked diaper beneath. Uncle Rob, with an affectionate smile, began the process of undressing me. The buttons of the footed-sleeper yielded to his touch, and the soft fabric slid away, unveiling the diapered state beneath. With the footed-sleeper set aside, the soaked diaper came into view. Uncle Rob, with practiced ease, unfastened the tapes, their crinkling sound filling the air. The nursery seemed to echo with the familiar routine of diaper changes, a timeless act of care that bridged the gap between infancy and adulthood. "Well, well, little buddy," he chuckled, his babytalk resonating with humor and affection. "Seems like Uncle Rob's predictions are coming true, huh?" The damp diaper, heavy with the evidence of a restful nap, was skillfully removed. Uncle Rob's hands worked with a tenderness that bespoke years of experience and the deep understanding that accompanied familial bonds. The room, filled with the soft hum of the changing table lights, became a cocoon where the vulnerability of infancy met the nurturing touch of family. "I remember telling you all those months ago that one day, you'd be cruising the streets in a car seat like a big toddler. But, I have to admit, I never thought it would come to this," he added with a light-hearted laugh. Baby wipes, cool and soothing, glided across my skin as Uncle Rob meticulously cleaned and prepared me for the fresh diaper. The nursery, now a haven of care, resonated with the essence of love as each wipe erased the traces of the previous diapering. "But here we are," he said, his voice a blend of amusement and warmth. "Not just a car seat but now a pram too. You've turned into quite the little traveler, haven't you?" As he cleaned and prepared me for the fresh diaper, Uncle Rob continued his reflections, "Who would have thought you'd end up being pushed around in a pram like a infant? Life has its surprises, doesn't it?" His tone carried a sense of nostalgia, as if savoring the unexpected turns the giant baby adventure had taken. As the fresh diaper was unfolded and expertly positioned, the nursery became a stage for the timeless act of renewal. The tapes fastened with a gentle precision, securing the new diaper in place. Uncle Rob carried made his way over to the closet, his eyes scanning the array of onesies hanging neatly inside. "Let's see, little cruiser," he mused, his babytalk a playful melody. "What outfit should we choose for the next leg of your adventure?" As he perused the colorful onesies, his voice took on a reflective tone. "You know, Patrick," he began, "it's still quite impressive how you've managed to embrace this new lifestyle, all for the sake of that potty training article of yours. From working every day to heading off to daycare – that's quite the shift, my man." He chuckled as he pulled out a particularly vibrant onesie adorned with playful patterns. "Remember when you used to go for drinks at the bar after work?" he remarked, his hands unfolding the onesie. "Now, it's all about baby bottles in the highchair. Quite the swap, I'd say." The onesie, now ready for wear, hung in Uncle Rob's hands as he continued his reflections. "Suits have turned into onesies, footed-sleepers, and bibs," he continued, a note of amazement in his voice. "And the ladies? Well, I suppose female intimacy has been replaced with diaper changes and baby snuggles. It's a whole new world for you, my baby nephew." "You know, Patrick," he continued, his voice carrying a blend of amusement and affection, "I never thought I'd see the day where you'd be more excited about a new bib than a tie. Life really does take some unexpected turns, doesn't it?" With a chuckle, he deftly slid the onesie over my arms, making sure it fit snugly. "You know, Patrick," he continued, his voice carrying a blend of amusement and affection, "I never thought I'd see the day where you'd be more excited about a new bib than a tie. Life really does take some unexpected turns, doesn't it?" As he fastened the onesie, Uncle Rob's gaze met mine, a shared understanding passing between us. "Diaper changes instead of business meetings, baby bottles instead of coffee breaks," he remarked, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "I've got to hand it to you, my man. Not everyone could pull off the switch from a corporate world to baby adventure." "There we go, all snug and ready for more adventures!" Uncle Rob declared with a final snap of the onesie's buttons, sealing the colorful garment around me. His hands, warm and familiar, lingered for a moment, embracing the completion As he lifted me from the changing table, Uncle Rob's gaze softened with a paternal warmth. "You know, your little cousin Jack is growing up so quickly. Karen and I were just talking about how he might be ready for potty training soon. Can you believe it?" He chuckled, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. "He's started talking, taking those wobbly first steps long ago, and lately, he insists on feeding himself. Little guy's growing up right before our eyes." Uncle Rob's tone turned reflective, his gaze shifting between me and the nursery. "It's funny, in a way," he mused. "While Jack's reaching these milestones and becoming more independent, here you are, falling further into infancy with each passing day. Life has a way of balancing things out, doesn't it?" As Uncle Rob lifted me from the changing table, the nursery's cozy warmth embracing us, a sudden warmth spread in my diaper, accompanied by a soft, unmistakable sound. A sheepish smile tugged at my lips, and Uncle Rob's eyes widened in realization. "Well, I guess we're sticking with diapers for a bit longer, huh?" he quipped, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and affection. His babytalk carried a playful cadence, creating an unexpected moment of shared laughter in the nursery. He adjusted his hold on me, his gaze meeting mine with an understanding twinkle. "Well, I guess you just proved me right, little buddy," he chuckled, his babytalk tinged with good-natured amusement. "Seems like you're not quite ready for potty training, huh?" As Uncle Rob continued carrying me out the nursey and through the house, the soggy diaper served as a reminder of just how far I had fallen from once being a independent, confident adult to now not even being able to keep my diapers dry for more than a couple of minutes. Uncle Rob, cradling me in his arms, re-entered the living room where Aunty Karen and Mommy Susan were engrossed in conversation. The warmth of familial chatter hung in the air, blending with the cozy ambiance of the room. As Uncle Rob approached the playpen, his eyes met those of his wife and my Mommy, their expressions a mix of curiosity and smiles. Cousin Jack, immersed in play within the confines of the playpen, looked up from his toys with wide eyes. "BABY!" Jack exclaimed, his little voice filled with genuine excitement as Uncle Rob placed me gently back into the playpen. The declaration echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the adults. Aunty Karen's laughter bubbled forth as she glanced over at Jack. "That's right, sweetheart! Baby Patrick is back for more fun," she chimed, her babytalk adding a delightful melody to the atmosphere. Mommy joined in the mirth, her eyes meeting Uncle Rob's with a knowing look. "Looks like Jack's got a keen sense of observation," she teased, her voice carrying a playful undertone. Uncle Rob, quick to take a seat in the couch next to Karen, couldn't help but share a bemused observation. "You won't believe how soaked Patrick's diaper was after his nap," he chuckled, his voice a blend of amusement and camaraderie. "I changed him into a fresh one, and well, let's just say he managed to stay dry for all of a few minutes." Aunty Karen joined in the laughter, shaking her head playfully. "Oh, the joys of diaper duty," she quipped, her babytalk carrying a teasing lilt. Mommy, with a knowing smile, added, "He really has a talent for keeping you on your toes. I’ll tell you that much.” She turned her attention to me, her tone affectionate, as if acknowledging the playful unpredictability that had become a hallmark of the giant baby journey. Aunty Karen, still amidst the shared laughter and lively atmosphere, chimed in with a playful observation. "Well, luckily, it seems like Rob and I don't find ourselves changing nearly as many of Jack's diapers these days," she teased, her voice carrying a light-hearted tone. Uncle Rob nodded in agreement, adding, "That's right. Jack's on his way to becoming a big kid. Diapers might be a thing of the past for him sooner than we think." The conversation continued, weaving between the joys and challenges of caring for little ones. As the adults continued their conversation, my attention gradually drifted away from the grown-up banter. The rhythmic hum of their voices became a distant backdrop, and my focus shifted toward the colorful array of toys scattered in the playpen alongside Jack. Cousin Jack, seemingly unfazed by the adult discussions, was engrossed in the simple joys of play. With a soft gurgle, I joined him, my oversized hands reaching for toys that sparked my interest. The tactile exploration of the soft, plush textures and the vibrant hues of the playpen's contents became my world. Giggles and coos filled the air as Jack and I engaged in a miniature universe of our own creation. The plastic keys jingled, soft fabric crinkled beneath our touch, and the rhythmic sounds of baby babble accompanied our playful interactions. The adults, now immersed in their conversation, occasionally glanced over at our little play area, their smiles reflecting a blend of nostalgia and amusement. Aunty Karen's eyes twinkled as she observed, "Looks like the giant baby duo is having quite the adventure of their own." The playful hours within the confines of the living room seemed to pass with the swiftness of a daydream. Jack and I, lost in our world of toys and laughter, hardly noticed the steady progression of time. The grown-up conversation, occasionally drifting towards our playpen antics, created a backdrop to our miniature escapades. Suddenly, the room stirred with a new energy as Aunty Karen and Uncle Rob exchanged glances. "Well, it's getting late, and we should probably head home" Aunty Karen announced, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and practicality. The realization that time had slipped away hit me, and I glanced around, the living room now adorned with the soft glow of evening lights. Mommy Susan nodded, her expression reflecting both understanding and a hint of nostalgia. "Of course, Karen. We wouldn't want to keep you too long." As the adults began gathering Jack's belongings, the familiar rhythm of their movements signaled the end of this impromptu family gathering. Jack, seemingly sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up with wide eyes, a momentary pause in his play. With gentle words and babytalk, Aunty Karen and Uncle Rob prepared Jack for the journey home. I watched, a silent observer, as they gathered toys and essentials, creating a sense of order in the playful chaos of our afternoon. As Aunty Karen and Uncle Rob gathered Jack's belongings, the living room took on a hushed tone, signaling the end of their visit. Aunty Karen, holding Jack's small hand, approached the playpen where I was still immersed in the remnants of our playtime. "Alright, sweetheart, it's time for us to head home," Aunty Karen cooed to Jack, her babytalk infused with a gentle reassurance. Jack, his eyes still wide with the excitement of the day, nodded in understanding. Uncle Rob, standing beside Aunty Karen, gave me a warm smile. "Thanks for having us over." With a sense of gratitude and an unspoken understanding, I offered a contented gurgle, my oversized hands reaching out for a brief farewell. Aunty Karen leaned down to plant a tender kiss on my forehead. "Say goodbye, sweetheart," she encouraged Jack, her eyes meeting mine with a shared warmth. "Bye-bye, Baby!" Jack exclaimed, his voice carrying a pure, innocent delight. His small hand waved in a miniature farewell, and the room seemed to echo with the simplicity of his gesture. Uncle Rob, with Jack securely in his arms, added, "Happy New Year, Susan. May the coming year bring you all the joy and love you deserve." As the door closed behind them, the living room settled into a quiet stillness. The warmth of their well-wishes lingered, and I turned my attention back to television where the parade had seemingly ended a long time ago. The screen now displayed a countdown to New Year's Eve, and I noticed the digits blinking steadily, indicating that we were five hours away from welcoming the new year. With a gurgle of realization, I turned to Mommy, my gaze seeking hers. The cozy atmosphere seemed to take on a new significance as the countdown quietly ticked away Mommy, attuned to my gaze, met my eyes with a soft smile. "Well, my little one," she cooed, "it's time for your dinner and then off to bed. Staying up until midnight is way too late for someone like you." We made our way into the kitchen, where Mommy soon had me secured in the highchair with a gentle click of the straps "Let's get you settled for a nice dinner, sweetheart," she said, her babytalk woven into the melodic rhythm of her words. She soon had a warm bottle placed in front of me, which was soon accompanied by several jars of colorful puree. As Mommy opened the first jaw of babyfood confusion crept into my infantile mind. The anticipation of New Year's Eve, marked by the countdown on the television, clashed with the realization that I wouldn't be allowed to stay up until midnight. The dissonance tugged at my emotions, creating a sense of bewilderment that bubbled to the surface. A furrow appeared on my forehead, and my brows knitted together as I stared at Mommy with wide, questioning eyes. The gentle humming of the lullabies in the background seemed to underscore my growing perplexity. "Mommy, why no stay up 'til midnight?" I babbled, the words struggling to form as I tried to articulate the swirling emotions within me. The question, punctuated by a pout, hung in the air, a plea for an explanation. Mommy, her eyes filled with understanding, continued the babytalk with a soothing cadence. "Oh, sweetheart, staying up until midnight is for big boys and girls. Babies need their sleep to grow big and strong." Her words, though gentle, failed to dispel the confusion that wrapped around my infantile mind like a blanket. The highchair, once a throne, now felt more like a confinement, the prospect of being denied the spectacle of the midnight countdown weighing heavily on my babyish shoulders. As the first spoonful of baby food approached, my discontent escalated into a whimper. The rhythmic motion of the spoon, once a source of delight, now felt like a countdown to a bedtime that loomed too early for my liking. "Mommy," I protested, a tear forming in the corner of my eye, "want to see fireworks, like big kids." Mommy Susan, with a tender smile, wiped away the tear and continued feeding me. "I know, sweetheart. But your bedtime is important." The resistance within me bubbled to the surface, and in my attempt to assert my newfound "big boy" status, I mustered what seemed like a convincing argument. "Big boy! Want to stay up 'til midnight," I insisted, my words a mix of defiant babble and whining. Mommy, undeterred by my miniature rebellion, continued the feeding with a patient smile. "Oh, my little one, you're a big boy, but babies need their sleep. We'll have our own special celebration another day." As the spoon approached for another bite, frustration seized me like a tiny storm. My oversized hands batted away the incoming spoon, and a pitiful wail escaped my lips. The highchair, once a haven of cozy meals, now felt like a battleground for my newfound desire to challenge the rules. "NO, Mommy! Want to see fireworks!" I protested, my fists clenching and unclenching in the air. The defiance, coupled with my babyish tantrum, added a layer of complexity to the usually peaceful dinner routine. Mommy, her gaze filled with a blend of empathy and amusement, tried to navigate through my mini-tantrum. "Oh, sweetheart, I understand you want to see the fireworks. But we have our own special way of celebrating, right here in our cozy little space." Her attempts to soothe and reason fell on deaf ears as my miniature rebellion continued. The kitchen, once a haven of familial warmth, now resonated with the echoes of my discontent. The storm of my tantrum showed no signs of subsiding, and Mommy Susan, faced with the escalating chaos, found herself navigating through the turbulent waters of my protest. The spoon, once a vessel for nourishment, now felt like a foreign object in my realm of discontent. As each attempt to feed me was met with flailing arms and indignant cries, Mommy's patience wore thin. The cozy ambiance of the kitchen wavered under the strain of my miniature rebellion. The soft glow of evening lights seemed to flicker in tandem with the rising tension. "Patrick," Mommy's voice took on a firm tone, "we need to eat our dinner. This behavior is not acceptable." My tiny protests continued, oblivious to the strain on Mommy's patience. The highchair, now a battleground, echoed with the sound of my frustrated cries and the clattering of the spoon against the tray. Exasperation etched across Mommy's face as she reluctantly set aside the spoon. "Enough, Patrick! We don't throw tantrums. It's time to calm down," she asserted, her tone a blend of frustration and maternal authority. Frustration etched on Mommy's face, she made a decisive move to end the escalating tantrum. With a firm resolve, she set aside the half-filled jar of baby food, its intended purpose abandoned in the wake of my rebellion. "Patrick," Mommy's voice carried a stern tone, "this behavior is not acceptable. It's time to go to bed." My eyes widened in a mix of surprise and defiance, but Mommy, undeterred, took hold of my hand with a determined grip. The kitchen, once a space of shared moments, now became a stage for a lesson in discipline, as Mommy removed the tray from the highchair and firmly guided me onto the kitchen floor, making sure to not release her grip of my hands. With each step, Mommy led me away from the highchair, her scolding words echoing in the air. "We don't throw tantrums, Patrick. Big boys and girls need to behave. Now, it's time for bed." The familiar path to the nursery felt longer under the weight of my thwarted rebellion. The soft glow of evening lights dimly illuminated the journey, a stark contrast to the cozy ambiance that had marked the earlier moments of the evening. Upon reaching the nursery, Mommy guided me to the changing table with a purposeful resolve. The atmosphere, once filled with lullabies and bedtime rituals, now crackled with a tension born from the clash of wills. As she began to change me into my nighttime attire, Mommy Susan continued her scolding. "We have rules, sweetheart, and throwing tantrums is not one of them. You need to listen and behave." As Mommy Susan attempted to change me, my temper tantrum reached a fever pitch. The air in the nursery seemed to crackle with the intensity of my defiant cries and flailing limbs. The soft glow of evening lights cast shadows on the walls, a stark contrast to the calm routine the room usually witnessed. My protests escalated, making each attempt to change my diaper a formidable challenge. The once-cozy changing table became a battleground of tiny fists and indignant cries, as my resistance intensified. The nursery, once a haven of bedtime rituals, now bore witness to a clash of wills. "Patrick, please calm down," Mommy pleaded, her attempts to soothe me falling on deaf ears. The jarred lullabies, which usually filled the nursery with a comforting melody, now seemed distant against the backdrop of my persistent cries. Despite Mommy's best efforts, my miniature rebellion persisted, making it nearly impossible for her to proceed with the bedtime routine. The gentle ambiance of the nursery gave way to a dissonance of cries and the rustle of thwarted attempts to change me into my nighttime attire. Frustration etched on Mommy's face, she struggled to navigate through my tantrum. The countdown to bedtime, which had initially held a sense of routine comfort, now unfolded with an unexpected challenge. Mommys patience, stretched thin by the unyielding tantrum, reached its breaking point. With a determined resolve, she scooped me up from the changing table and placed me across her knee. The air in the nursery shifted, thick with tension and the echoes of my wailing protests. "Patrick, enough is enough," Mommy scolded, her tone firm and resolute. The nursery, once a haven of bedtime rituals, now became a stage for a lesson in discipline. My tiny protests intensified as the first swat landed, the shock of the unexpected punishment mingling with the cries that now mirrored the wails of an infant. Mommy's hand, once a source of comforting care, now delivered the stern consequence of my defiant behavior. "Big boys don't throw tantrums. You need to listen and behave," Mommy admonished, the rhythmic spanks punctuating each word. The soft glow of evening lights seemed to flicker in the face of the unexpected turn in our familiar routine. As the spanking continued, my wails echoed in the nursery, a symphony of discipline and consequence. Mommy, despite the gravity of the moment, remained resolute in her commitment to teach a lesson in obedience. When the spanking came to an end, Mommy lifted me from her knee and guided me back onto the changing table. With a swift and efficient motion, Mommy changed me into a dry nighttime diaper, her movements firm and purposeful. The nursery, once a stage for a tumultuous tantrum, now witnessed the methodical completion of the bedtime routine. Despite my lingering cries, Mommy didn't waver in her determination. She guided me to the crib with an assertive resolve, her grip on my tiny hand firm as she led me to the familiar sleep space. The soft glow of evening lights, though dimmed by the recent discipline, cast a subdued ambiance over the nursery. "Enough crying, Patrick. It's time for bed," Mommy Susan asserted, her tone carrying a blend of firmness and maternal concern. The countdown to midnight, which had initially held a sense of anticipation, now felt distant and inconsequential in the face of the recent discipline. As I continued to sob, Mommy Susan raised the side of the crib, locking me in, her gaze holding a mixture of resolve and sternness. The nursery, now devoid of the earlier tumult, became a quiet space for reflection. With a final directive to settle down and get some rest, Mommy left the nursery, closing the door behind her. The soft click of the door marked the beginning of my solitude in the dimly lit room, several hours before the arrival of the new year. Alone in the crib, my cries echoed in the hushed nursery. The soft glow of night light became my only companions in the silence that followed the recent storm. The abrupt bursts of fireworks jolted me from my slumber, the sudden explosions of light and sound slicing through the quiet nursery. Groggily, I opened my eyes, blinking away the remnants of a troubled sleep. The soft glow of the night light revealed the familiar surroundings of the crib. As the last echoes of the fireworks drifted away, a sense of disorientation settled over me. The nursery, once a stage for a tantrum and discipline, now felt like a cocoon of solitude. I glanced around, my surroundings coming into focus. The realization struck like a gentle wave – it was midnight, the arrival of the new year. Memories of the earlier turmoil, the scolding, and the firm discipline flooded my consciousness. Despite the solitude of the crib, the distant sounds of celebration echoed through the walls. Sitting up in the crib, I caught a glimpse of myself in the nursery mirror illuminated by the soft glow of the nightlight. The sight that greeted me was a stark reflection of my once chiseled physique and confident demeanor and a visual testimony to the path I had willingly traversed. Dressed in nothing but a clearly wet and messy diaper, the evidence of my recent infantile mishap was impossible to ignore. The soft baby fat adorned my cubby body, making me look like nothing more than a oversized helpless infant. My hair, in a bowl cut, added to the overall image of infantile vulnerability. My reflection in the mirror revealed not the confident and articulate young man I once was, but a transformed version of myself – a creature of dependence, clad in the remnants of my own regression. Drool and saliva adorned my chin and chest, further emphasizing the infantile state I had seemingly willingly embraced. Rummaging around the crib, my fingers brushed against a familiar plastic surface. Pulling it into view, I found a baby bottle nestled among the soft blankets. Hesitation flickered in my eyes as I considered the implications of what lay in my hands. The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the liquid within – a bottle of formula awaiting its role in the celebration of the new year. For a moment, I contemplated the irony of my situation. While the world outside likely buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the joyous cheers of a new beginning, here I was, a young adult celebrating the turning of the calendar in a crib, sipping formula from a baba. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the reality of the moment. This wasn't the typical New Year's Eve celebration of a young adult, and I wasn't clinking glasses at a lively party. Instead, I found solace in the gentle suckling of the bottle. With the bottle pressed to my lips, I sipped formula, the act resonating with a deeper meaning. The celebration of the new year had transformed into a personal reflection on choices, vulnerability, and the unexpected twists that life could take. As I continued to nurse the baby bottle, the liquid inside providing a sense of comfort and familiarity, I stole another glance at my infantile reflection in the nursery mirror. The soft glow of the nightlight caressed the contours of my transformed self – a young adult adorned in a wet and messy diaper, hair cropped in a bowl cut, and features softened by the chubby embrace of baby fat. With the bottle emptied, I sank back into the crib, the soft blankets cradling my regressed form. The echoes of the recent tantrum, the firm discipline, and the symbolic sipping from the baby bottle lingered in the air. The world beyond the nursery walls may have been ringing in the new year with fireworks and cheers, but within the crib, I found solace and comfort between the warm blankets, my stuffed animals and my baba. Lying in the crib, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a gentle ambiance around me, I began to mull over the fact that the culmination of my year had been marked by a tantrum, a manifestation of frustration that cascaded into the nursery's quietude. The echoes of my cries, the firmness of the discipline, played out in the recesses of my memory. Thrown into the crib after a stern spanking, I pondered the irony of ending the year much like a misbehaving toddler. The images of Mommy guiding me into dry nighttime diapers and putting me to bed with a bottle played like a surreal loop in my mind. The symbolism was hard to ignore. The transition from adult to infant, a regression that started as a peculiar journalistic endeavor, now carried the weight of real consequences. The act of celebrating New Year's Eve with a tantrum, discipline, and regression had transformed the turning of the calendar into a deeply personal and introspective journey. With a deep sigh, I settled into the crib, my thoughts weaving through the complex tapestry of a journey that defied convention. The soft echoes of celebration and discipline lingered in the quiet nursery. As I shifted in the crib, my hands brushing against the soft blankets, I discovered a familiar comfort tucked in the corner – a pacifier. The realization brought a subtle sense of reassurance, a reminder of the small comforts that marked my infantile existence. With the pacifier in my mouth, I settled back, cradling “Mr. BunnyRabbit” close to my chest. The soft glow of the nightlight created a cocoon of tranquility within the nursery, and in that quiet moment, I whispered to myself, "Happy New Year." A different awareness stirred within me. A subtle shift, marked by the undeniable sensation of my bowels once again emptying into the already soiled diaper. The echoes of my earlier regression, the messy aftermath of my actions, became a tangible reminder of the chosen path. As I succumbed to the drowsiness that accompanied the rhythmic embrace of the crib, the soft whispers of "Happy New Year" echoed in my thoughts. The pacifier between my slobbering lips and stuffed animal cradled in the warmth of my embrace, I surrendered to the infantile slumber that awaited, my surroundings bathed in the soft glow of the nightlight, marking the end of New Year's Eve in a most unconventional and introspective manner.

Ted’s mind was swirling as he walked to the bar. Blinded by his arousal, the notion had not fully set in. Stacey and Lara were spanking each other! Ted had so many questions. How long had this been going on? How often? Were they really spanking each other’s bare asses? Was it just for punishment? Was anyone else involved? Did all sorority girls spank each other? Ted was distracted the whole night. He eased his nerves with plenty of cheap beer, staying at the bar later than he normally would on a weeknight. He was apprehensive about going home, not very eager to see his roommates again considering at least one of them would suspect he had overheard them that evening. Finally, when the bar closed at 1 am, he stumbled his way home. Grateful to see all the lights off, Ted tried to be very quiet. His drunken state made that difficult, especially when he tripped over his backpack which still sat in the middle of the hallway floor. Clambering to his feet, Ted bolted for his bed. He kicked off his shoes and passed out without bothering to disrobe. The alcohol coursing through his veins put him into a deep and motionless sleep. Ted’s dreams were filled with bottoms being spanked. Hazy images of his roommates’ naked asses being whacked by thick paddles were shrouded in the sound distant scolding, just like he’d heard earlier that night. “I will put you over my knee,” Stacey chided. “You need your little bare butt spanked,” he heard Lara say. Just before he awoke, he saw his own ass, naked and bent over. A paddle connected with a loud smack, and Ted jolted awake. “Oowww!” He said aloud, grabbing his butt. It took a moment before he realized it was his head that hurt, not his butt. His temples throbbed and the magnitude of the hangover set in. His bladder also ached. A small spurt of pee escaped into his boxers as he darted out of the room to relieve himself. He made it to the toilet just in time to avoid a major accident. Stumbling down the hall, he ambled into the kitchen to find some coffee. The caffeine took hold and the haze began to lift around him. He saw the clock on the wall, and his stomach lurched as he realized he had slept through his first class of the day. Looking up, Ted noticed the kitchen was spotless, a complete change from the night before. Remembering the mess, he also remembered that Lara had been thoroughly spanked for leaving it so. He then also remembered that Stacey’s spanking had been because she missed class. His bottom tingled, realizing he was missing class that very moment. The image from his dream flashed in his mind, the heavy paddle cracking against his bare ass. Ted was a bit surprised as his cock began to stiffen. He had been so turned on by the sounds of his roommates spanking each other the night before, but he had never considered that he might be on the receiving end himself. Letting his mind wander while he gulped his coffee, Ted’s cock grew harder and harder. He pictured being held down across Lara’s lap, his dick pressing into her bare thighs. He imagined Stacey fondling him from behind as he awaited the paddle on all fours atop her bed. He had always had a thing of dominant women, though he had never fantasized about being dominated in this way. The door had been nudged open and there was no closing it again. His hand made its way to his crotch, rubbing himself through his pants. Realizing he was home alone, Ted hurried back to his bedroom to pleasure himself again. He lay on his bed, pants at his ankles, stroking his stiff member while imagining his bare bottom being thoroughly spanked. It took only minutes before he moaned loudly spurted ropes of cum on his stomach. Ted cleaned himself up and quickly passed out again.

Alright, here we go. As I noted previously, I’m going to be working very hard this week to try and get out as many chapters as I can. Looking ahead, I believe I should still be able finish before my deadline next week, but if anything changes, I will note it before another chapter then. Also, and I do discuss it a bit here, but Percy freaked out more about all the other stuff he said to the Bigs rather than just about Halloween and the other topics like that. Looking back, I don’t think I made that clear enough then, so I do apologize for that. So, yes, he is freaking out that any information he gives could be considered problematic, but his panic attack stemmed more from the fact that he’s been spouting all this information to the Bigs for months now. As I said, I’ll make it more clear in this chapter, but I just wanted everyone to be on the same page going forward. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 13: Contingencies Exist for a Reason Reality and truth are very sobering to anyone who suddenly finds themselves in the midst of it all after being in an illusion of peace and happiness for so long. This other world and dimension had become like my home and the people here had mostly shown me nothing but patience and compassion. It was almost a paradise of sorts if one fell into the right circumstances, which so far, I mostly had with the Norris family. That all changed though, two weeks ago when DB and Melley practically confirmed my worst fears. The sudden realization of everything that I had told the Bigs over the past months all came crashing down on me. Before, I thought that maybe the Bigs could know too much about the inner workings of our government, but after that day, I knew that almost anything I said could be used against the human populace if manipulated just right. It was a terrifying prospect, and no matter how many times DB and Melley tried to console me about it, I just couldn’t accept the fact of my part in it. Apparently, that’s being too dramatic, but they aren’t the ones who gave the Bigs exactly what they wanted. Regardless of my own feelings though, time moved on, and the Fall season quickly arrived in our small community. The leaves began to change in earnest and a chill set upon everything at night. It was my favorite season, but with my little revelation, I found myself adrift away from all the frivolity that surrounded me. Of course, Samantha was no fool or ignoramus, so she had kept a close eye on me ever since I collapsed in her arms after daycare back in September. Now in the beginning of October, I could tell she wanted to confront me about whatever was going on. I was guessing though that she still felt a sense of guilt for bringing me here in the first place, so for now at least, she let me be. Time moved on though and trying to lift my spirits in her own way, she decided to take me to a local fall festival today. Perched just beyond a dusty gravel parking lot and right before the mountains surrounding the town nearby, the fall festival was an annual event apparently and was something that most looked forward to all year. “Try and cheer up, sweetie. I promise you might enjoy yourself if you give this place half a chance,” Samantha tried to coax me out of my blues. I only nodded and not wanting to make a scene, she just pulled me along by the hand and into the festival. Three go’s down the slides and one ‘spooky’ hayride later, Samantha was purchasing a kettle corn bag while I fed a few of the animals. Now, I was no animal expert by any means, so I guess I should have given myself more of a break, but the Bigs here knew how to make a Little feel just that when it came to anything new around here. For example, what I might call a ‘pig,’ they would call a choiros. Same would go for an aloros, or horse, or gida, or goat. It didn’t help that almost all of them were twice the size that I was used to back home, but I still felt like such an outsider when it came to these things… or a toddler just learning to speak. Regardless, I was feeding the gidas, when I heard a few Bigs start to speak up from behind me. I of course had been in this position before, as my bulky jeans and jacket today, my diapered rear, small stature, and feeding the gidas would likely only point to me as just another regressed Little here. Bigs always underestimated me like that, which I found annoying at first, but I soon realized I could learn about so many things that I likely shouldn’t. “How did it go with the councilman on Friday?” the gruff Big asked the small Big next to him. “Oh… you know, the usual,” the small Big scoffed. “Councilman Chambless approved new housing for the academy if we… greased the wheels a bit. If you get my drift…” “Oh… that usual business,” the gruff Big noted. “I swear he’s going to be able to make a house from all the extra money bills from kickbacks that he’s been given over the years.” “True,” the small Big acknowledged, “but we need the space. You heard Grossman. They want to increase our presence on Earth by at least triple what it is now in the next three to four years. I don’t see how those Earthers wouldn’t realize what was happening around them, but I guess there’s a reason I’m not in charge of things like that.” “Right you are,” the gruff Big said without the slightest hesitation, “but also… you’re forgetting one crucial fact.” “Oh?” the small Big asked with curiosity. His voice seemed to get closer, so without turning around, I would bet anything that he was leaning in closer to hear his friend’s secret. “What is that?” “They’re all just a bunch of Littles,” he said in the most straightforward manner ever. “How could a bunch of babies notice anything but the shiny devices or the food right in front of them?” Both got a good chuckle out of that one while I just stood there, completely mortified by the likely truth of my own species. “Come on,” the gruff Big said after a moment when the laughter had died down. “These animals aren’t going anywhere. Let’s find Tracy. I’m sure even with Troy’s energy, he’ll be done with her going down the slide by now.” “I don’t know…” the small Big said un-assuredly. “You saw him after the whole cupcake incident. What do you think he’ll be like after two apple cider donuts?” “Oh geez…” the gruff Big noted with a little fear. “We’d better hurry and save my wife. No telling what that Little could be like after all that!” Both chuckled a bit, but I turned a little and saw them run off. I shouldn’t have been shocked then. In the two weeks since I had learned of the long-term consequences of my stories and all, I had practically heard the same thing in other categories as well. First, it was the high interest in me giving a lecture to ‘special guests’ next semester. Second, it was the increasing amount of reading material based on Earth, and more specifically, how to care for an Earth Little. Now, with this new information, I just couldn’t shake my bad feelings anymore. The hayride had helped a lot with the ‘scary’ monsters that tried to frighten everyone on board as they emerged from the woods, and even feeding the gidas moments ago was a relief of some sort. All that now felt brushed aside though with the notion of tripling the presence of Bigs on Earth. Unfortunately, that’s just where Samantha found me as she returned with the kettle corn. “Found a new friend?” she asked, clearly eager in her efforts to cheer me up and gesturing toward the goat I was still barely feeding. “Yeah… the gidas,” I had to remind myself to call them, “they’re great. Smell funny though.” Samantha smiled. “Well, so do you honey in the mornings, but you don’t see them complaining.” Most of the nearby Bigs clearly heard her comment and found it hilarious and began to chuckle amongst themselves. I didn’t. “That’s not funny,” I said, pouting and crossing my arms now. I was aware of how childish I looked but her poking fun at my regression since I had gotten here didn’t feel like a laughing matter. Right now, it was only reminding me of how vulnerable Earth was to all this. “Uh, oh…” a nearby Big woman interjected before Samantha could say anything. “I know that look anywhere. Looks like someone could use a nap, huh?” “I do not!” I fumed at the stranger. She had no business talking to me like that, but I was temporarily forgetting where I was. I was a Little and the rules were different for me. A Little simply did not talk back to a Big and get away with it. “Percy!” Samantha yelled at me. I knew from her tone that I was now definitely in trouble. We were in public, and Samantha couldn’t be seen as a neglectful caregiver when it came to her Little. Others had done the same and less than a week later, the Little was removed from their custody. There was always another Big waiting for their very own Little. “You do not talk back like that. Apologize this instant!” I turned quickly to the smirking Big. I wanted to wipe that smile right off her face, but I knew that would only spell my doom right now. So, instead, I was a good boy. “I’m sorry, miss,” I said, relying on the number of times I had practiced that exact line in front of the mirror back at home. “I was wrong, and you were right.” The Big seemed unsatisfied for a moment, but then just turned back to Samantha. “He seems well behaved, but I think he definitely needs a nap… or a punishment… As his mommy, its completely up to you.” I could instantly tell that Samantha did not like being told what to do with her own Little, but I could also see her own practiced form fall into place. “Thank you for the advice. Perhaps we should just be going instead. Probably just too long of a day for this one anyway without some more rest like you said.” Without skipping a beat, she then looked down at me and forcefully jutted out her hand to mine. “Percy, we’re leaving right now.” I wanted to stay and didn’t feel tired at all, but I knew my place in all this. I had temporarily forgotten it in my despair over the future of what Earth was to be and my part in it, but I took her hand right then without a single comment. When one’s Big said it was time to go home, a Little simply did not argue with them… or at least a Little who cared about being punished that is. So, we quickly exited, and I could see the woman Big and several others smiling in their own ways as Samantha marched me right out of there and to the car. I was half expecting her to yell at me or even apologize if it was all a ruse, but even when we were driving back home, she was silent. Even with my worry of the future of Earth, I was now far more worried about what my fate would be back home. As soon as we got out and into the house, and then the door closed behind Samantha, she looked at me with a fury that made me weak at the knees, but still, her eyes still showed her caring ways. It was comforting, but now, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. “Now, sweetie… I want to be nice to you. I want to at least be your friend here, but your attitude needs to change. So, please, just tell me what’s going on.” Seeing that she wasn’t angry, I felt I could still just slide away and all this could be forgotten. It had happened once before, and I didn’t want to burden her with all my current troubles. “I’m fine. Really. I guess I just need a nap like that lady suggested.” Yep. I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth either, but I felt it was a better alternative than the truth right now. I then started walking away to go upstairs. Samantha had other ideas though. “And just where do you think you’re going, mister?” she asked directly as her foot popped out in front of me, blocking my way upstairs. “Just drop it,” I tried to say as forcefully as I could without crossing the ever-mysterious line. It didn’t work. “No, Percy,” Samantha doubled down, getting a little closer to me. “I’m not going to ‘just drop it.’ Tell me what’s going on. This isn’t you. I know you well enough by now to know that much at least.” I almost broke right then, but my inner voice was still telling me to keep quiet. I had said I was a traitor to Earth back during my little breakdown two weeks ago, but Samantha had never asked any follow-up questions afterwards. For all she could have known, I was just spouting off random things in my emotional state after daycare that day. So, as she doubled down, I did too… a little too well, I guess. “I said, drop it! Please!” It was the last straw for Samantha. Before I could barely blink, she picked me up with both her hands and nearly catapulted me onto the couch nearby. I almost spoke up, but she held up a single finger in front of her. “Don’t test me, Percy. I’ve been going easy on you, and there’s even several Bigs that have been pushing me to be stricter with you. I’ve ignored them, but perhaps that might just be what you need.” Her caring eyes were still cast down on me, but I could also see that her patience had finally run out. My chances were up, and I knew something was bound to snap today. I felt at this point with what she was mentioning, it was either going to be my will or my body. “So, here’s how this is going to go, and it’s not up for debate. You can either tell me now, or I can treat you like a Little, give you a punishment, and then maybe after, we might have to start reviewing some decisions about your future privileges.” She had thrown the gauntlet down, and the ball was now in my court. “So, which is it going to be? Truth or punishment?” I gulped and I definitely didn’t want to be punished. While I doubted that Samantha’s brand of punishment would ever be as severe as Mrs. Katherine’s, the daycare attendant’s treatment of my backside had been permanently sealed into my mind. So, I felt I really only had one option left. “Okay… I choose the first…” To my relief, Samantha’s fury quickly dissipated, and she sat down on the couch next to me. “I’m very glad to hear that, Percy. I want us to at least be friends and I don’t know if that could have been possible if you had chosen the second option.” I nodded in agreement and took a deep breath. “Okay… well, remember when I came home after daycare and basically had a bit of a breakdown?” Samantha nodded. “Well, I said that I was a traitor of Earth, but I never explained, and you never asked about it.” Samantha nodded. “I wanted to give you your space. I thought that’s what this whole attitude of yours lately could be, so I wanted you to tell me in your own time, but you were pushing the boundaries of being a Little a bit too much in public. There could have been severe consequences from that, so I had to give you a final push today…” It made sense, and while I wasn’t sure if I was ready to spill everything, I felt I had no choice now before everything went wrong. “I appreciate that, so here’s what’s going on...” I then regaled all my fears and feelings to her about my dirty deeds. She did little but nod and rub my shoulder tenderly occasionally when a sudden surge of emotion overtook me. To be honest, by the end I was feeling a little better. “So, see? I just don’t know anymore. I did all that for my pride, but with all the new students coming… I feel I can’t just stop going to the academy anymore. I feel like a traitor and with Franklin… I feel its only a matter of time if I stay that he’ll uncover something truly damaging. I feel trapped.” Samantha then let out a huge sigh. “I was worried you were going to say that.” She then got up and went over to a nearby bookshelf. By now, I had read a good chunk of the books from there, but never being able to really even see the titles at the top, it was a row I had yet to read at all. To my surprise though, Samantha reached up and grabbed a single large book, opened it, and then pulled out a series of documents from the hidden compartment inside. She walked back over to me, handed me the papers, and sat back down. “These are just copies, but I knew this day was coming eventually, so I made them for you to see. They are the official documents from the trial and the plans my family has been discovering about everything we’ve seen that’s going on.” I quickly read over them in my own eagerness, and Samantha gave me the time, but by the end, I was still a little confused. “So… there’s a planned meeting between the president here and the leaders of Earth, but I saw there isn’t a date for that. If this is a plan, how come there’s not a date?” Samantha nodded. “Well, we just don’t know yet. A lot of that depends on Earth itself, but your stories have been pushing all this along…” she then looked away and deeply exhaled. “And further, I know you want to quit, but you just can’t, Percy.” “What?” I fearfully questioned. “What do you mean? Why can’t I quit the academy? I’m not even an official staff member. How can I quit something I’m not even officially a part of?” “Well…” Samantha’s hesitation quickly unnerved me. “Flip to the back page.” I did and I could quickly see it was the official notarized document from hers and Chelsea’s trial. I was confused though. “I’ve seen this already, Samantha. Oppy showed me it the day after the trial ended. It was basically just a pardon for what you had done.” Samantha nodded. “It was, but this came later and breaks down how I got that pardon of sorts.” She then pointed to two embossed lines. “Here. The first is protocol 6 and the second is protocol 9. Read the second one first.” I looked at the document before me. “Uh… protocol nine brings you back to the university as part of a community service… I already know that one though.” Samamtha nodded. “Yes, but now read about protocol six above it…” I looked back at the document. “Protocol six… a Little will be allowed to stay with the academy personnel directly without further consequence to either party if…” I paused and saw what was next and my stomach dropped a little. “Go on,” Samantha coaxed, already fully knowing what the second part was about. “Uh… if the Little exchanges relevant information with the academy about their home planet. Otherwise, they can be subject to protocol one.” I looked up at Samantha and I realized that my service to the academy and the coaxing of my stories was no coincidence. In essence, I was serving part of her time as community service toward the academy. “How long have you known?” Samantha sighed. “About since June… I didn’t know it was part of my conditions for release until Judge Franklin gave me this document and explained fully what was going on. You have to understand… most of the time, protocol six just coincides with an interview… not a full debriefing of information months after the trial is done like that’s been happening to you. Normally, it’s just the interview questions and the protocol has been fulfilled.” Most everything was clicking into place now. “So, your spats with him…?” Samantha nodded. “All about you basically… Judge Franklin was on a tear at one point to get all the information out of you in a single weekend. It would have been all over in less than an hour, but you and I would have been free.” “So why didn’t you agree to that?” I asked. It felt like a no-brainer to go with that option. Samantha suddenly seemed very sad. “Because the process is tough on the brain. About three times worse than interview 43C questions in fact. You are strong Percy, but after all that… you probably wouldn’t have been, well… you anymore. I just couldn’t risk it.” It was a revelation that I needed to hear. In essence, Samantha had practically sacrificed her own freedom in exchange for mine. The trial was clearly a front and once they had realized they could get information out of me, a non-regressed Little, everything since then had just been in an effort to do that. It didn’t take much imagination to figure that if at least Franklin had his way, the Norris family would have all been set free, but I would have likely been a shriveled-up husk with abilities and emotions no better than a newborn by now. It was a lot to take in. “There’s one more thing though…” Samantha sighed. “Franklin has informed me that there is a caveat to all this as well. At some point, and I have no idea when, I need to perform a task for him. No questions asked.” I could see the rage burning behind her eyes. “Otherwise, protocol one will be initiated. It would be the same thing if you quit.” ‘Protocol one… protocol one!’ I had heard that at the trial, but no one had ever explained it to me. I still wasn’t even sure what 249 was, so now, with almost everything coming out in the open, it felt like as good of a time as any to find out the truth. “Samantha… what’s protocol one? And for that matter, what’s 249?” Samantha seemed hesitant but then just quickly got up to her feet and checked her watch. “Come on. Let me check your diaper, but then we’ll go out on a little field trip.” I raised an eyebrow over what was happening, but Samantha just kept pushing through my clear skepticism of the situation. “Come on. It’s better at this point if I just show you.” I nodded, hoping that my trust wasn’t misplaced, and then after a quick change upstairs and a restocking of the diaper bag, Samantha and I drove away. We drove for longer than I was used to at this point and beyond the academy into a large, forested area. “Where are we going?” I asked nervously, just picturing that now that I knew things, that Samantha was going to kill or regress me out here in the middle of nowhere. It was times like these where I felt like I might have seen one too many spy and horror movies… “It’s okay. We’re almost there,” she noted as she turned down an unlit rickety road. “Just stay quiet… and whatever happens, let me do the talking.” I nodded, and soon we came to a single guard’s station at the front of a gate. Samantha exchanged a few pleasantries, showed her academy personnel badge, and explained who I was. Fortunately, the gate opened, we both waved goodbye to the guard, and Samantha kept driving until we reached a singular concrete bunker-like building. “What is this place? It’s giving me the creeps…” I said as she helped me out of the car, and I stared at the imposing structure. Samantha nodded. “That was the idea behind the design actually. The academy didn’t want this place on anyone’s radar, but you could kind of call it our punishment building.” She then hesitated and looked back in the car. “Uh, actually… on that note, bring Nurple with you…” I felt a tiny spurt in my diaper at those words. Samantha had never actively suggested bringing my stuffy anywhere, but with this place, she barely had any hesitation. Worrying now more than ever, I quickly grabbed Nurple from beside my diaper bag in the backseat. With that, Samantha then locked the car, and we went up to the building. She stood still in front of the camera there, scanned her eye at the extended device from the wall, and then punched in a code at the single metallic door at the base of the imposing structure. It beeped and then slowly opened with a loud groan. Undaunted, Samantha went first, and I followed close behind her before the door shut right behind us. Inside, to my surprise, there were only two doors and a single elevator. “Come on,” Samantha said with a serious face. “No matter what you see or hear, always stick by my side. Don’t wander for a single second.” She then paused and seemed to think of something for a moment before she thrust her hand back out. “In fact, take my hand… the one not holding Nurple…” I quickly obeyed as she then pressed the elevator button and led me inside when the doors finally opened. After Samantha pushed a single button near the bottom of the panel, the elevator plummeted downward. I could feel my throat beginning to rise to my mouth and I was worried that I was going to splat against the roof of the small metal box we were now encased in. Right before I cried out in fear though, the elevator came to an abrupt stop and we both got out. Immediately I heard screaming and moaning all around me. I hugged Nurple tightly and got as close as I could to Samantha. She reached down and pulled me in closer as well. “It’s okay, baby. They can’t hurt you. Just stick close to me and we’ll get through all this together.” She then checked her watch. “Good. Almost time… come on.” I wondered what she was referring to with the time, but we just started to walk toward the end of the hallway. As we did, I noticed several rooms, most of which had patient numbers and their information posted to the front or side of the door. It all seemed pretty standard down here, apart from being in an underground bunker, but then right below each of the bits of information, I saw the word ‘Punishment.’ It didn’t take long for me to see the numbers there as well… particularly those listing ‘Protocol 2.’ “Is this where Chelsea went to get… uh… regressed?” I asked tentatively, right after I heard another scream from nearby. “Yes…” Samantha confirmed after a minute of the lights flickering. “Protocols one and two occur here, but there’s another wing that house any academy personnel awaiting trial…” A horrible realization then came over me. “Wait… so you were here… as a prisoner?” Samantha nodded. “I was. It’s a little nicer over there, but it’s still very secure and structured. A person can live for years under those conditions, but these…” she gestured to the doors we were passing, “well, you’ve seen Chelsea…” I nodded, but my curiosity was also getting the better of me. “Right… but what do they actually do to them? Chelsea wasn’t even gone for very long and when she came back…” I couldn’t finish the thought as the lights flickered again and a pained scream echoed throughout the hallways. I almost feared popping Nurple’s head off I was squeezing him so much at that point. “It’s best not to ask some of those questions, sweetie,” Samantha answered somberly. “I know a few things about the process, but they have methods here… well, to give you an idea of the severity… they induce memory loss in the guilty party whenever they leave… without exception.” “Oh…” I still felt perturbed a bit by Chelsea’s selfish actions, but since Peace Day at the pool where I saw the lack of her abilities on full display before everyone, I had started to feel a sadness I had never expected towards her. She was guilty for sure, but times like this… it was hard not to feel a little bad for her. Samantha and I walked a little further until we came to a single door at the end of the hallway. It bore a simple sign that denoted ‘Protocol One Observation.’ “Ready?” Samantha asked, looking down at me. I slowly nodded, still not sure what I was going to see. Even when we walked into the room though, there was basically only a few chairs and a large window that was clearly covered by a curtain on the other side of the glass. “We’re still a little early before it starts, but you asked a few questions back at home.” I nodded. “Well, to answer your first question, you, honey, are Little 249.” Right then, the curtains opened and beyond the glass window in front of us was a large room filled with several pieces of equipment and cables. A Big dressed in a lab coat was strutting around a few others and was seemingly checking a few of the gauges and dials before him. As soon as he saw us though, he grabbed a nearby microphone. “Hello up there. So good of someone to join us tonight. As per protocol, the two people you see before you are about to be subjected to academy protocol one precisely at 6 o’clock.” Samantha nodded and turned to me. “Baby… I want you to watch this. It’s going to be a little scary, but I want you to know what will happen if you stop at the academy.” I nodded and then strangely saw both a Big and Little strapped down to tables down there with a series of cables running from them and leading to several of the large machines I had first seen earlier. If I had no idea what was going on, I would have directly compared it to Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory, instead my whirled with what protocol one actually was. Still, my attention was drawn to the two struggling figures below. “Who are they?” Samantha sighed. “I don’t know them personally, but all the academy staff got a notification of the outcome of the trial last week. See, Juliet down there was a hunter and began an illicit and illegal relationship with a human while on Earth. All was consensual, but she claimed him and then didn’t even tell anyone. In trying to cover it up though, several other academy personnel were injured. Once they were captured on this side, she was judged guilty, and through association, he was as well.” I looked towards both struggling figures displayed out on the tables. They seemed to only be wearing childish-themed hospital gowns and unmistakable large bulky diapers. From the little I knew; it all wasn’t a good sign of what was to come for them. “So, this is protocol one?” I asked hesitantly. Samantha nodded. She seemed about to speak, but the doctor below spoke up once again. “Okay, almost 6. Begin the sequence countdown.” Both figures on the tables seemed to try and struggle more and scream out, but both had thick rubber gags in their mouths. If I was being honest with myself, they looked like they were a cross between one of the gags they used to use with electroshock therapy and a pacifier. It was all terrifying to watch, yet I couldn’t take my eyes off any of it. “In three! Two! One! Initiate!” Suddenly, all the lights began to flicker, and the whirring machines came to life even more while large bursts of blue and green arcs traveled along the wires and directly into the muffled-screaming victims below. Some cables went to their chest and limbs, while the others went directly to their heads. They were all but silent, but I could see the fear in their eyes and the pain they must have felt based on the twitching and convulsing of their limbs. Horrifyingly further, considering the Big was a woman and the Little was a man form Earth, it was hard not to see the similarities between them and us up here. A painful two and a half minutes later, the electricity coursing into their bodies soon ceased. The doctor smiled as he saw that both of their diapers had been heavily used and now both appeared very dazed. While the woman seemed to snap somewhat out of it, I could tell that there was likely little left of the Little’s own mind now. The doctor then looked back up to us. “Thank you for attending. This concludes our session for tonight.” Like a theater show, the curtains then closed. There was a moment of silence, and I could see that Samantha was just silently looking at a response from me. It took a second for me to even form words, but I had questions that needed answering. “What happened to them? Are they going to be okay?” Samantha smiled. “It’s so heartwarming to hear you care about them, but it’s a little hard to answer that question.” Her face quickly darkened with uncertainty. “Physically? They’ll be monitored for signs of issues, but they should be okay in a few days, but mentally, however? That’s a different story…” She braced the wall but turned back to me. “See, the Little was cognitively regressed to a newborn… the process shredded most of their neurons responsible for higher brain function, but the Big… they’re leaving her with the capabilities of about a toddler. It’s one of the academy’s harshest punishments…” “That doesn’t seem fair…” I pointed out. I now knew that both Samantha and I would be subject to protocol one technically, but it seemed the Little was basically being erased when they hadn’t even knowingly committed a crime… almost like me in this case with my association with Samantha. Further, I realized that while Samantha hadn’t committed a major crime, the severity of this punishment was in place to ensure our compliance with what people like judges Franklin and Grossman wanted. “Maybe…” Samantha finally acknowledged, “but they are free.” I then raised an eyebrow to question what she was even referring to. From my perspective, neither had looked free. “Well… the Little lost who they are, but they don’t have to suffer through everything. A tickle could be the highlight of their day, but for the Big… most who end up like that either go mad from the constant helplessness of it all or just simply from watching all their mistakes unfold before their eyes and yet can do nothing about it… Essentially, for both, it’s a permanent sentence.” I quickly realized that Samantha was essentially referring to locked-in syndrome. From there, it didn’t take a genius to make the connection with protocol two or to Chelesa. “Do you think Chelsea is locked-in like that?” Samantha sighed. “I honestly don’t know, baby. I know when she starts to come out of it, from past Bigs sentenced to it, I know there’s a bit of an adjustment and growing period, but before then, it’s hard to say… most don’t remember anything but a few sensations. They could be aware, but they can’t remember it after or articulate it during.” With that, I then looked back at the red curtains now before us, knowing full-well of the fate of the two just beyond and below them now. It seemed horrible and both seemed to be in agony throughout the whole procedure until the very end. I suppose the human body could only take so much before becoming numb to it or losing consciousness. Regardless, it was a fate I wanted to avoid almost at all costs. “So, I can’t back out of the academy…” Samantha sadly shook her head. “Not really… I mean, you can… but if you do, this will be both of our fates…” It was a lot to take in over the course of one evening. While my path forward seemed terribly forced, I was at least glad of the heart-to-heart that I had with Samantha. We were both trapped in our own ways now, but at least we were on the same side as well. I wondered what else Judge Franklin had in mind for Samantha, but for now, I just wanted one thing. “Can I get a hug?” The trepidation and nervousness on Samantha’s face soon vanished. “Of course, honey.” She crouched down and we both then embraced and held each other about as tightly as we could. In a sense, we were both doomed, but unless there was some way out, we were at least both doomed together. In this world, it didn’t take long to learn that a small happiness like that should never be taken for granted. One just never knew what was going to happen next.

I've been a member on here for awhile and I rarely commit but I felt compelled to add "my two cents." I also love uncontrolled incontinence, I personally use a stent but I also have a career that would never facilitate a permanent procedure. I also envy @Reddy at being able to connect reality to an internal desire. Nothing in life worth doing is without risks. I'm not saying what he has done is wrong, right, good, bad or otherwise. I'm neutral in my judgment. I also will say there are all different levels of judgment by others in this community. I personally would like to see more constructive and positive comments. With that said sometimes writing one's thoughts do not properly translate their feelings or judgments. I can say in regards to a previous comment I catheter balloon or any other sealed vessel with any fluid be it air or liquid will not expand or contract on board an aircraft. Do to cabin pressurization. With an exception a vessel sealed at low altitude. Say sea level then transported to high altitude will experience a pressure differential. The same is also true if you flip the circumstances high to low. This is only a factor when air is in that said vessel. Say a small shampoo bottle, not a catheter balloon with 99% water. My last comment I only wish @Reddy the very best after all how many of us would love to do what he has done. And how many of us can do what he has done. He has shared a great personal experience. I just ask folks to take a step back and show more respect in their comments.

Faye remained perfectly still in the room full of women, all eyes on her. She didn't know how long it had been. Two months? Six? Almost a year? She was fairly certain it hadn't been the full year yet, as she was promised she'd be paid and let go at that point. She told herself she believed they'd honor that- she had to believe, to hold onto what remained of her sanity. "Knee up!" Matilda commanded. Faye obeyed. She raised a knee, matching her hand positions into a ballerina pose, like the one of the girl in the glass cabinet. Was she still there? Faye hadn't been ordered to look in that direction in a while, but next time she did, she'd be sure to check. That could help tell her how long it had been, if they really were releasing her a month after she came in. "One spin and a half!" Matilda commanded, and Faye obeyed. She spun on her toes, ending up facing away from Matilda and most of the women. They, laughing and impressed at the show of obedience, applauded. She now could see herself in the mirror. Despite her ballerina pose, her clothes were anything but elegant. The pink onesie and tiny frilly skirt did resemble a tutu, but the thick double diapers under and the pacifier in her mouth, not to mention the teddy bear embroidered on her chest, ruined the image. "Speak line one!" Matilda commanded. "Goo goo gaa gaa," Faye responded in the high voice she had been trained in. "Speak line three!" "Wahhh Wahhh! Wan Mommy!" "Speak line five!' "Baby go potty!" Faye said. At this point, she didn't even blush at the instructions. They entered her ears and obedience came out without a single thought in her mind. The audience giggled, as did Matilda. Normally this meant something else was coming, but Faye didn't consider it. All that existed were her current instructions. "Position five!" Matilda commanded. Faye put both feet on the ground, and her hands on her knees. "Push!" Without a thought, Faye felt her sphincter empty and her diaper inflate behind her. The crowed laughed, and one leaned in to check her diaper. She didn't pay any mind, she didn't even move. She hadn't been ordered to, and doing anything but what she was ordered to was out of her mind. "Line six!" "Stinky Mommy!" Faye said, and the women laughed out loud. "Ballet pose!" Faye went back into the ballet pose and kept it. "So do you change it?" one of the women asked. Faye didn't know who it was, she knew she wasn't allowed to turn to see. "Not now, it takes too long and I think we can move on," Matilda said. "I will eventually when I want to play that part, or I'll just get a guard or a servant to do it if I don't want to but get sick of the smell. It's not like its a real baby, no need to rush." The conversation broke into smaller portions. She heard the women behind her begin to talk, and start moving around. That told her they were done playing with her for now. So, she waited. It might be minutes before they returned. It might be hours. More then a few times Matilda had forgotten her in other places around the house, and Faye remained, perfectly immobile, until her owner returned to play with her again. Two women were beside her, talking about her as if she wasn't there. "I've spoken to my husband. They are expensive, but training isn't too difficult if you follow the right steps. This one is obviously very good." "Yes. I think I might get one," the women leaned in close, sniffed, gagged, and backed away. "I don't think I'll train it to be a Baby Dolly though. This one is cute, but it stinks horribly. Maybe a Teddy Dolly. Those are more cozy anyway." "It." Faye knew the word meant her, and at this point it didn't bother her. She was an "it," a toy for her owner to play with. She didn't think, didn't have opinions, didn't move without orders. So, she remained still, one leg in the air, mess in her diaper, to be the best "it" she could. Normally, she was left in a more comfortable position, but she supposed Matilda wanted her on display. No matter- she had practice holding these stances for hours, and could manage. She was, after all, a perfect Baby Dolly, a perfect "It." She wondered if she could ever be anything else again. A lone tear went down It's face. The tear itched, but It didn't move to wipe it away.

Mistake Seventeen I sat on the edge of the bed in my private room at Academy M. I spent a week working on Ai, taking out as much of her as I could. As much as the marker would allow. I was on the phone with Kenzō every day, refining my work. I used six Touches total, and recommended Academy A for transfer. The semester at A was just ending, and Academy A required a low Touch count to function. Best of all, it didn't have handlers or Nanas or whatever the fuck else. Candies were students, and they could take care of themselves. So I could go back to the Memoriam. I laid back and looked up at the ceiling. A nice ceiling. A nice room. I had a lot of perks, as one of the Academy managers. I was well respected. I was good at my job. But Ai's question kept swirling around in my head: why was I doing any of this? Was it really just survival? I lucked into a senior position because Eli and I were friends? In the end, couldn't the Star or the Chariot just do whatever they wanted? Would I die at the end of all this? I didn't want to die. But why did I want to live? I sent a group text. M > I've been thinking... E > Don't hurt yourself. M > Omg is your tablet always in your hand or something? E > It is literally my job. P > What's up Mary???? M > When all this is over. What are you excited for? E > To be done, M > I'm serious, Eli. E > I am too. E > This fate of the world shit is a lot of fucking pressure. E > And there's a new problem every day E > Maybe we could just have world where we take a break from problems E > For like, a day. Sunday. Get biblical and shit. P > I wanna be a kid P > Like a real one. P > Or, maybe 18 but suuuuper small and cute and I never age M > You're already small and cute M > And you only seem to age down to me. P > 😤 K > Magic. K > Like fireballs. M > What? K > I want magic. K > Real magic, like something I can't explain. K > And then I want to try to explain it J > Rewriting the universe isn't enough magic for you? K > It is not. K > We're in like Tolkien magic. K > Something mystical and grand and poorly defined K > End of the world, blah blah blah K > I want FIREBALLS. K > Also cure spells P > Shrink spells!!!!! omg K > Pretty much just fantasy tabletop game come to life E > We never finished Delta Green J > We fucking LIVE Delta Green E > Our game was more fun P > At least we were togethhherrrr 😭 K > Movie night Friday? K > I'll sync our tablets E > I'm on a plane K > I'll hack a satellite or something J > Can you really hack a satellite? K > No I mean I can use whatever satellite I want whenever I want anywya K > Hacking it sounded cooler M > It did E > It did P > It did J > It did M > What about you Justice? J > Huh? M > I feel like we don't know anything about you M > But you're one of our best friends? J > Ha, yeah. J > We aren't really best friends anymore. J > Or, we weren't. P > ??????? K > Drama bomb. J > I did some shitty stuff. I messed up a lot of things. J > I could never admit it before J > Too proud. J > But now I'm just a stranger to all of you again J > I feel like I can be someone better M > So you could say that you really got your.... E > Don't. P > DONT!!! M > JUST DESSERTS J > This is why we broke up. M > 😄 K > Maria's puns aside K > You should still answer the question J > Right, well J > I hope that in the new universe... J > I can keep being friends with you guys E > Sappy. M > So sappy. P > Awww I think it's cute! K > Well we're glad to have you around. K > And get to know you J > Thanks J > So, movie night on Friday? M > I'm there K > We'll be there too P > I wanna pick the movie!! M > Oh Penny! I have a movie recommendation for you M > It’s called Oliver and Company E > That's a good movie. P > 😮 E > I like the homeless dude. E > What a wild card K > I'll get us a connection with low latency M > You're the best P > Bedtime for me. K > Yeah and I should get her dressed E > TTYL J > Thanks for including me M > Anytime M > Night I clicked off my tablet and smiled. Something to look forward to. When I returned to the beach house, I expected Judith to come running out to hug me like the over-excited child she'd more-or-less become. But as I turned around to examine the living room and kitchen, I didn't see her. Paul gave me an update an hour before. After a week or so of my being gone, Judith's sleep patterns had changed a lot. I talked to Penny about it, but she said it didn't line up with anything in the prophecies. Chances were, she was too bored to stay awake all day and slightly manipulated her environment. Days seemed to move faster and night seemed to move slower, so that she could sleep more than half the day without it feeling unusual. The time dilation got a little worse every day, until she started taking naps. Then it seemed to level out. Sure enough, I found Judith asleep in her room. She was cuddled up to Papa and the lingering smell was familiar. I smiled to myself and quietly approached her. I leaned down and put my hand under the blanket to check her diaper. "Mmm..." She swatted at me without opening her eyes. "Looks like someone is a stinky little girl, huh?" I said, and her eyes opened wide. "Nana!" She rolled over and hugged me tight, pulling me down into bed with her. I tumbled down on top of her and tickled her playfully, causing her to go from sleepy to squealing and giggling in half a second flat. Rolling around in bed with a baby-brained girl in a stinky diaper wasn't something I could have ever expected to be part of my life. "Hey my little giggle guts, I missed you!" "I missed you!" She was absolutely beaming. And then she realized where she was, and the state she was in. Papa was in bed next to her, and her diaper was messy. It was obvious what had happened. Her cheeks went scarlet. "I um... should change..." Judith muttered, climbing awkwardly out of bed in some pointless attempt to not make a bigger mess than she already had. As she stepped out of bed, I swept one arm around her and pulled her back in, mirroring how she'd pulled me into the bed just moments earlier. "Oh? And I'm not good enough to be around my little princess in her post-orgasmic haze? Let's cuddle, okay?" "Nooooo," Judith whined. "I really gotta change! I fell asleep... and... and I gotta change..." "Well, then I'm changing you." I booped her on the nose and she pouted. But she didn't get up again. She hated when I changed her messy diapers, but it had happened a handful of times. She was getting used to it. "Tell me what you fantasized about, when you were humping Papa in your full diaper?" "Nana..." she mumbled under her breath. "This is not how our reunion is supposed to go..." "How is it supposed to go?" I asked, pulling Judith into position and getting the wipes and baby powder. "Well... I was gonna greet you at the door," Judith said evenly. "And obviously I'd be dressed really sexy. Like, lingerie or something. And panties, of course. Since I'm a big girl. And I'd get you all hot and bothered. Ya know. Normal stuff." "And if I told you that I'd find it much sexier if you were wearing a diaper and a cute lil' printed tee, with your hair in pigtails?" "Nana!" This time her tone was a little sharper, but the blush on her cheeks was a lot deeper. I untaped her diaper and started wiping her clean, so she couldn't get up or try to pull away. "I'm just saying," I said dismissively. "It's just a story," she pouted. "At least let me pretend I can be sexy in my stories!" "I think you just need to reframe what sexy means, that's all." My tone was light and almost whimsical. Like a toddler, Judith squirmed to one side and required me to maneuver her back into place. "What do you think I'm doing?" Judith muttered, a little annoyed. I was riling her up a little bit, but I didn't want to tear her down after so long of not seeing each other. So... "Okay, okay. I open the door and you're in panties and lingerie. What happens next?" "Uh... I dunno. I didn't get that far. I seduce you or something." "Seduce me?" "Yeah, like... I dunno. Be seductive?" Clearly Judith didn't do seduction that often. I wondered what kind of women Judith dated before coming here. Surely no relationship like this one. "And how do you seduce me?" Having this conversation while I was balling up her messy diaper was an odd juxtaposition. "Like... touch you. And kiss you. And move you around, like you do with me. Like, uh... pulling on your wrist and stuff. And telling you what to do." "Is that how you usually seduce women?" "Uh... sometimes?" But it seemed like Judith was really unsure of her answer. Her eyes were staring up at the ceiling and her eyebrows were pulled together, like she was skimming through the catalog of her past sexual escapades. "And so you pull on my wrist, you tug me into the room where you want me." I finished rubbing lotion into her skin as she told her story. "What do you do then? How do you get me wrapped around your little finger?" "I kiss you?" She said it more like a question than a statement. "And... pull you onto the bed. And... kiss you all over your body?" "That sounds like some smooth moves, and then what happens next?" I noisily fluffed her new diaper between my hands to get it to maximum volume. "Um... I kiss all down your stomach. And take off your pants. And your underwear. And I kiss between your legs." Judith's cheeks were a touch pink at her recount of her imagined scenario. "Well you are very good at being between my legs, and that is pretty seductive. Buuuuut... what if instead of those icky cloth undies, you were in a thick medical diaper? Can't I have just this one little change?" I lifted her legs and slid the diaper beneath her butt. "...well..." Judith pouted a little. She was just starting to get turned on fantasizing about being a big girl, and I had intervened. But what else could she do but nod her head? "I guess you can change one thing…" "So now, you have me on the bed. You've got some lingerie coordinated with your diaper; something pretty and white and sweet, maybe some pale blue to match your diapers too? And you're between my legs. You're kissing, you're pleasing, you're making me feel so good. What do I call you, to praise you, what do you wanna hear?" I sprinkled powder over her - lots and lots of powder - and began to gently rub it in. "Um... well..." She stopped to think about it. Praise isn't really a thing in sex all that much. You imply it, with moans or whimpers or whatever your deal is. The sounds you can elicit are the metric to know how good you're doing. But with Judith, I always praised her the same way. I always called her the same thing. My reassurances were two words, burned into her libido. So after a moment, unable to come up with something better, Judith said quietly: "Good girl...?" "Good girl!" I pulled the diaper up between her legs and then audibly pulled one of the tapes to start fastening it. "That's right! You are my good girl. But let me tell you, sweetheart: I don't think I've ever been more turned on than when I got here today you were asleep in your diaper, cuddled up to Papa, waiting for me to change you. You are such a good girl, and so good at seducing me." Judith blushed a little deeper and shook her head. "My story would have been better..." "Maybe we'll have to compare one day," I teased. Judith sat up and played with the hem of her shirt. It wasn't very long, and it had a pair of shorts that went with it. But she wasn't wearing them when I came in, and she wasn't wearing them now. "Did Paul say anything about your new underwear?" I asked. "Um, kind of... I had to ask him to get me some more, when I ran out. And I had to describe the kind I wanted... but I always wore pants when he was here and stuff. I forgot how restrictive pants are." "You're cuter without pants anyway," I said. We spent a lot of that day catching up on our month apart. I talked to her about my other client: a woman who was a lot less charming. Judith talked to me about some of the books she was reading, and the letters she exchanged. But all in all, we both agreed: life was far more dull without each other. When the sun started to set, I looked longingly out at the artificial horizon. I looked around the beach house, lit warmly by the natural light. Oranges and pinks. And I looked at Judith's face. "I want to do something new," I told her. "Is that okay?" "Well, that depends what it is," Judith said with a laugh. "Trust me," I said. Judith looked at me for a moment and nodded her head. "Yeah, okay." Ever since I left Academy B, I kept taking those pills Justice gave me. Without a Candy to suck on my breasts, I had to go back to pumping them. But I didn't pump them today. They were achy and full. And Judith's lips were just a little glossy in the evening light. I knew that once she'd committed to trusting me, Judith would follow through. So I wasn't shy or subtle in unbuttoning my top, letting it drop to the floor, and then unclasping my bra. I saw the way she looked at my boobs, and I wondered how long the thoughts in her head would ping around like a pinball table until she got the ball in the right hole and realized where this was going. "Come lay in my lap, baby girl." Judith's eyes were fixated on my chest until I spoke to her. Then she looked up. "Uh... yeah... okay..." Judith scooted a little closer to me and tried to sit in my lap like she usually did. This time, I repositioned her a little more ergonomically, the same way I did with Ai in the rocking chair. It wasn't exactly the same, since the couch was shaped differently, but soon I had her comfortably in my lap with her head near my chest. She looked at my nipple, inches from her mouth, then up at me. "Nana..." Her cheeks were pink. She knew what I was going to do next. "You're going to love this, baby girl." I wanted her to latch. I wanted her to take the initiative. "It'll bond us together in the deepest way." Judith gently nodded her head. She looked away from me, to my breast, and leaned up just a touch, tilting her chin, until her lips could wrap around my nipple. She sucked, just a little, and the milk started dripping onto her tongue. At first, it was awkward. She wasn't sure what to do with the milk as it filled her mouth, and eventually she swallowed. Then the rhythm of nursing took root, an ancient memory in her brain. After that, it was easy. I played gently with her hair and looked down at her face. Her round cheeks. Her eyes, casually looking up at me every few seconds. And then, as she nursed, as the warm milk filled her tummy, she started to close her eyes. Just a little, half opened and half closed. Fluttery. And the suction felt nice. Relaxing, like a massage. But arousing, like a massage between my legs. I squirmed a little bit and so did Judith. How could something feel so safe and easy, and so sexy at the same time? "You've transformed for me, like a butterfly." My words were soft, gentle, storybook even. "You're diaper-dependent now, you breastfeed now. You changed for me, you gave yourself to me. And now you're mine, and there's nothing else you could ever be. There's no going back from this; you're a baby now. You're my baby now." A bit of color reached Judith's cheeks. I used my free hand to stroke one of them, the one that wasn't pressed up against my breast. I was so warm, in a good way. Like I was siphoning Judith's heat from her body like I siphoned the rest of her. "That's a good girl," I whispered. The tension on my nipple. The softness of her skin. The look of helplessness on her face. My hand wandered to her own chest, covered by her shirt, and gave it a soft squeeze. "Look at you, nursing on Nana's breast. Letting me feed you. Relying on me for everything. For food. For water. For diaper changes. How small you've become... so small you fit in my arms. So small, you can't take care of yourself anymore." "Mm..." The sound that escaped Judith's mouth didn't break her connection to my breast. She was still latching tight, but her breathing was a little uneven. "Soon, you'll need me to fall asleep. You'll need me to give you baths. You'll need me to dress you, take care of you, dote over you, and make every decision for you. And with a mind no longer needed to make decisions, or think, or struggle, what will be left? Only happiness. Only devotion." "Mmm....." The sound was lighter that time. I'd grown to know that sound well, when she was sucking a pacifier. She was aroused. Aroused to be nursing on me. And I was in such a stupid haze of contentedness and - weirdly enough - lust. My hand journeyed down her stomach and rested on the front of her diaper. Then I did something I shouldn't have. I let my fantasy run away from me. I let my mind come through my mouth, unfiltered. And I started to tell Judith about our life after this place, and how we would be together. What the rest of her life would look like. It was innocent, really. Well, not innocent - lust was the antithesis of innocence - but I only meant to stoke the fires of her libido. I loved to see how much I could arouse her with my words. So I talked about how everyone would learn to love the new Judith, the baby girl. I talked about her "baby coming out party", where she would be the center of attention, where she could show everyone who she was now. More importantly, whose she was. The narrative quickly began to spiral. "Your cheeks will be pink with embarrassment, but you'll know it's okay. It's okay to be you. It's okay to wear diapers. It's okay to fill them in the living room, while you're opening all your presents. I'll praise you for being such a good little girl, and everyone will know. There will never be any doubt." My hand rubbed the front of her diaper as she suckled on my breast. Her lips on my nipple. My breast milk finding its way into her stomach. Helplessly, soon, into her diaper. The sight of her soft face. The heavy breathing. Both of ours. "And on days I have to work, I'll bring you along. Every day will be bring your little girl to work day. Every day I'll dress you up, show you off. You'll be coveted, you'll be desired, you'll be an inspiration for others. Other couples who know their lives would be better if instead of asking 'who's the boy and who's the girl' people asked 'who's the Nana and who's the baby'. Maybe you'll kick off a trend, start a craze, be everything every pretty girl wants to be when they grow up." I had remarkable control over my body. But as I imagined a future with Judith, I felt like I wasn't really in control at all. Not just the things I whispered to her, about her life as a little girl. About all the humiliating situations I would put her in. About how happy she would be. But the other things too. Not just changing her diaper in the morning, but waking up together. Not just making her order off the kid's menu, but trying new restaurants with her. Not just pushing her in a stroller through the park, but going on nature walks. But the worst part was - the best part was - I imagined what it would be like if I faltered. If I couldn't get her off one day, or if work was too hard. And how she'd act so grown up, to make me feel better. She'd greet me at the door in panties and lingerie. And then, if I wanted her to wet herself, she would. Because it was for me. Because she was mine. And I was hers. Judith and I both finished, probably around the same time. We were both out of breath. We were both spent. We were both lost in the bliss of orgasm and each other. And even though she was in a soggy diaper, we didn't feel all that different. And that didn't scare me. "Woah..." Judith finally said. "Yeah..." I said, more to the ceiling than to her. "Nana...?" Judith asked. "Hm?" I asked. "I wanted to tell you before you left. But I didn't. But I want to now. That I love you." I looked down at her, but it wasn't with shock or confusion. It was with a little smile. Because, "I love you too." Thirty seconds later, I'd have a bad time. I'd kiss her goodbye and tell her I had to finish some paperwork. I'd go out into the hall and have a panic attack, the first one since I was in high school. But until then, those thirty seconds were the best of my entire life.

Problems after surgery that I've also seen in both my surgeries happening in the US? Wow, imagine that! (I don't have to - I've been to the local ER for the same issue for much, much less involved procedures. It's an easily predictable and treatable complication. But that isn't NEARLY as snarky, is it?) It's *almost* like those were known issues that Reddy mentioned he was aware of. You know, almost like a competent adult individual making a decision while knowing the very real risks involved! Imagine that! I'm so glad @Reddy has been willing to share so much - it's *exactly* reactions like this that led to me not bothering to mention what i was doing to others when I had my procedure. I'm beyond amazed most peoples' reactions have fallen somewhere between "concerned yet curious" to "supportive yet intrigued." This procedure is a serious matter. It has VERY real risks. I've said the entire time (well, I did until multiple threads were deleted because of "helpful" comments like this) that this is something most people probably shouldn't pursue. And I'd love nothing more than to have a fully above-board option for this. In the meanwhile, we work with the options we have - and I'm glad to hear @Reddy's doing alright. It's never fun to see complications, even expected and predictable ones. But for anyone reading this and thinking about doing it themselves - this is part of the package deal. It's not like the stories. It's a serious procedure, with serious risks. And yet, I do believe there are several people out there who would still benefit from it.

Please be kind to Reddy. He knew the risks going into this and is being kind enough to share very private details of his personal situation during a very vulnerable time.

Hey DD! Hope everyone is having a wonderful start to the week! Today would be my 2nd year, 5th month, and 5th day of 24/7 diaper dependency! Close to halfway to my third year of the rest of my life padded! Since my last update I've had one experience that was very new, and the rest feels pretty same samey. Sometime last month I started changing in the bathroom after drying first the shower. I'm definitely become a very dribbly faucet and it's a lot easier then having to wipe up the floor along the hallway after getting cleaned up. A few weeks ago I treated myself to getting a balayage, and the 6ish hours for coloring were only possible thanks to Northshore. By the time I finally was able to leave and getting to my car I realized just how soaked my diaper was. Thankfully the plastic pants helped, but the diaper was to it's tipping point. I barely even drank anything while there 😕 But I'm just glad nothing messy related happened. ~ Messy Warning ~ Sometime between the last update and this one, I had a single uncontrolled messy experience that left me a little stunned. More just that I didn't actually know what was happening until it was out of me. Got out of my chair and felt a plop. 😐 While cleaning up, I tried to think about what warning or feelings I had, and aside from being focused on work I for the life of me couldn't think of a single warning I usually at least feel something. This time, on the other hand it just was over before I felt anything at all. Messing is definitely becoming easier every day, sometimes I find myself needing to mess while I'm still nomming on lunch. I'd say the biggest changes are just how instinctual ? they feel? I'm find myself just helping things along and back to whatever it is I'm doing. I have very little though put into it now adays compared to when I first started so long ago. Having to change in public with friends is getting to be a nuisance, and while I still have not told them, It's getting harder to change / bring supplies in some situations. Honestly while I've done my best to keep it private, I do see the benefit in maybe telling my closest friends soon, though obviously not "hey i'm abdl xyz".. I just don't really know how to tell them without lying / having them become incredibly concerned. And I kinda enjoy keeping it a secret without being branded forever. 😶 Life is still moving forward Still happily taking one day at a time, still getting out there and enjoying life. If you have any questions let me know, I hope everyone is well!

Heyo! I've tried writing DD stories before, but this is the first one where I have it entirely planned out. I hope you enjoy it, I will try to release chapters at least weekly, but I find it hard to follow a schedule so we will see. Hope you enjoy! Comments are appreciated! The Song Im boppin to today Chapter 1 Waking up is menial, an action that nobody thinks about yet can set the course for the entire day. Today would have been just another day, but at least I had a little hope things might get better. The butterflies seemed to flutter viciously this morning, not aiding in the fact that I should be getting out of bed right now. The stress, albeit strenuous, should not stop someone from getting out of bed, but in this instance it was. Jackson knew that he needed to get up, he knew that he had a place to be, but the unknown was so unbearable. He clutched his covers with his hands in an attempt to regain control over his senses, and it was working slightly. He moved his toes, feeling his nerves start to come back to life. This amount of stress could kill an elephant, but somehow he was still alive. Not wanting to bask in the moment any longer, Jackson pushed the covers off, revealing his naked state in only his underpants. It wasn't cold, but Jackson rubbed his skin and felt goosebumps develop all over. ‘This is going to be a long day’ Jackson thought, or at least attempted to tell himself so that he could try and push himself further out of bed. No birds chirped this morning, the sky was gray and the grass was too wet. Walking out to his car Jackson felt surprisingly normal, this being what he would do every morning before work. Though he wasn't going to work this morning, he was going to Diamond Technologies Relocation Services. Most people didn't know the facility under this name, but Jackson is a rare case because he sought out this service, unlike most people having the misfortune of knowing it. It was in an online ABDL forum he reads occasionally, hearing murmurs about a way to live life completely like a child. At first, he laughed at the idea thinking that it was just some strange sort of roleplay, but looking further after hearing just the amount of people who have done this, he knew he had to do more research. The gray skies didn't clear up at all on Jackson's hour-long drive to the compound. He lived right outside the city, only barely being able to afford it, but still making by with little money to spare. According to what he read online, he was paid to go to this place. He felt it was strange, mostly due to how hard it was to find a caregiver. ‘Why would anyone want to pay to take care of you?’ Jackson thought. To his surprise though, the email he received back the other day confirmed it was indeed true. Anybody with half a brain wouldn't do this though, knowing they would probably get kidnapped or something worse. However, when Jackson checked online for the company records and reviews, everything seemed to be completely well above board. * * * * * * * * The warm inviting interior was a nice change to the overwise discomforting morning. Various exotic plants, all of which I was sure have weird names, lined the waiting room. The skylight helped to give a pleasant vibe, it was hard to feel bad in a place like this. None of that stopped me from stimming, shaking my legs, and biting my nails. The unknown tends to do that. Lost in my thoughts, a door suddenly opened. “Jackson?” a middle-aged woman called out. She was wearing pleasant workplace attire adorned with subtle flowers and light pastels. I got up and walked towards her as she started to lead the way through the door. Sitting down in her office was similar to the waiting room, but her gentle and calming demeanor helped my nerves. “How are you doing today?” she asked plainly. I meekly responded, “I'm alright.” She seemed to notice my nervousness because her attitude shifted slightly to take on more paternal notes. “This is always the hardest part” she smiled “Do you have a nickname?”. Feeling more courage, I responded. “Jackie Mamm.” She chuckled slightly before readjusting her seat. “You can call me Lisa Jackie.” The way she said my nickname made me blush. “You have nothing to worry about, do you know what we offer here?”. I decided to be honest, “I heard about this place from some online forums.” Her smile shifted slightly, “What forums?”. I shifted nervously and blushed harder as Lisa seemed to take notice. “That's okay, I'm assuming it was an ABDL forum?”. Her question irked me, and I went non-verbal, trying my best to stay on the surface. It was bad enough that my nerves were this shot, but somebody knowing my secret made me uncomfortable on many levels. “S..Sorry…” I whispered. She seemed to notice my discomfort because she stood up and made her way to the chair next to me. She put her hands on my back and began to soothe me. “Shhhhh…” she whispered, “It's okay hun… you're in the right place, sweetie.” Her sweet words sent butterflies ablaze in my stomach and I began breathing heavily as my heart tempted to beat harder. “It's okay little one, no need to be scared.” she rubbed my back more. “...It's okay?”. The comforting lady took her hands and hugged them tightly around me. I sat there for at least a minute before I felt her pressure let up and her hands snake out from around me. “Are you ready to continue?” She asked me. I only nodded meekly in response, and her smile beamed down at me as she stood up, walked back to her desk, and sat down. She turned to her computer before typing some things, then stopped to look back at me. “I think you're perfect for this program, we can start looking for caregivers right now.” she stated. I still had a ton of questions, and she seemed to notice my look of confusion as well. “It's alright sweetie. We have a ton of options, and you can choose whoever you want.” I could only quietly blurt out “What if they don't want me?”. She seemed to be stunned by that question, her face showing the same confusion I showed. Then all of a sudden, she started cracking up. “I don't think any of our caregivers would say no to you hun!” She caught her breath and I blushed a little at the sideways compliment. “Do you want to see?” She asked me. I nodded and she took out an iPad from her desk. She turned it on, before tapping on it and handing it to me. I wasn't sure what it was, but this tablet was the thinnest tablet I've ever seen, almost paper thin. I felt as if I might break it, so I acted extra carefully. I pressed on it a little, then looked up at Lisa to see if I was doing anything wrong with the device. She only smiled affectionately and motioned for me to continue. As I scrolled I could only guess that there were at least 100 different pairs of people, though some of them only included one person. “There are couples here?” I asked andLisa only nodded, “We have a ton of people looking for little boys like you.” I blushed a little, confused at why someone would want me. It was so hard to find a caregiver, but now all these people wanted me? It felt… nice, nice to be wanted like this. I blushed a little before I continued scrolling, overwhelmed by the amount of options. Lisa seemed to notice my confusion because she pointed out something on the tablet, letting me know I could filter traits. I looked at the amount of options and was surprised by how many there were. I checked it off as I went down. ←– Least * * * * Most ––> Affection Level Non-Affectionate - Lightly Affectionate - Affectionate - Bubbly Strictness Not Strict - Lightly Strict - Very Strict - Overly Strict Punishment Level Timeouts - Groundings - Spankings - Public Embarrassment Caretaker Age Youngest(21-35) Younger(35-50) Older(50-80) - Oldest(80-130) Little Mental Age Youngest(1-2) - Young(2-3) - Older(5-6) - Oldest(6-8) Diaper Usage Light - Medium - Harsh - Harshest Siblings No Siblings - One Sibling - Two Siblings - Three Siblings Continence Continent - #1 Only - Fully Incontinent Sexual Desires None - Light - Medium - Heavy Caretaker Height Medium - Tall - Taller - Tallest Caretaker Build Jacked - Medium - Fluffy - Fluffier Number Of Caretakers One - Two - Three - Four As I was filling out the options, I was surprised by some of the questions. It was strange to me how old the people were, but I guess they just didn't want to discriminate against really old people. I'm not sure though, as I thought people only lived to 100, but that might have changed in my lifetime. Shaking my head, I let that be and clicked to see my results. What popped up were only four options, and I looked very closely at each one. The first one looked like a nice couple, seemingly upper class by their clothes. They smiled, but something felt off about it, almost like they were smiling while not smiling. Scratching them out as an option in my mind, I went on to the next pair, they also seemed upper class, but their demeanor was a lot softer. The woman in the picture seemed lovely, but the man next to her did not seem very interested. Was he only there for her? Why would he tag along if he wasn't interested? Pondering on that for a moment, I decided to also cross them off and go on to the next couple. When I looked into their eyes, my heart almost melted by how soft they were. While they didn't look as perfect as the other couples, the imperfections made them look more human. The feeling I got from them is something I found hard to explain, like when you see someone who wears their heart on their chest. I got lost looking at the two, losing myself in their pleasant aura. I shook myself out of the trance and looked up to see a smiling Lisa staring at me, and when she noticed me looking at her, she spoke. “Did you find anyone you like?” I nodded in response, then clicked on the couple's profile, and I showed them to her. She looked at the profile for a second before speaking. “I don't think I've seen these two before?” She eyed them a little, a bit of concern showing on her face. All the concern seemed to vanish after she noticed something suddenly. “I think it will be alright.” She pocketed the tablet back into her desk. “I think you picked the right ones, hun.” She went back to her desk, then took out a pile of paperwork and a pen and passed it over to me. I groaned internally but looked up at the woman for reassurance. She only smiled brightly in response and then spoke. “Are you ready to start your new life baby?”. I questioned the seriousness of that statement, but only nodded as I began to look over the paperwork. ‘This is insane’ I thought, as I looked at the mountain of legal jargon and contracts that I barely understood. All I could do was sign my name on each one in the hope that I could get it done quickly. As I got to the last page, I gave a sigh of relief and signed it. I put the pen down and sat back in the chair, letting my hand rest and uncramp itself. Lisa only clapped her hands in excitement as she beamed down towards my slumping form. “Are you ready to meet them, hun?”.

The dad on the show, Beef, goes on a series of bad "dating app" dates. In one, a woman turns around on the bar stool and is dressed like a doll and says "Daddy, my diaper is full!"

Our new car has Apple Carplay that loads maps and music and such when we get in the car. Today I got in and it read my text messages, saw I had a shrinks appointment and loaded driving directions. That's boardering on too smart lol

I love hearing my diaper crinkle. It is a constant reminder that I’m just a baby.

I just have to say how much I appreciate your writing! It's not often that I'm literally laughing out loud while reading!

I'm not sure on this one, there have been close calls a few times in the last 2 1/2 years, and while I've done my best to try and remain private, it could be possible somebody in my social circles knows. If they do, they have not said anything. It's definitely something I originally was like, eventually when I'm xyz, I might tell people.. Now that I'm getting closer or have achieved xyz I keep extending the goal line. I just wish diapers were not socially stigmatized so much, it's just a fear that people would take it the wrong way, or feel i'm crazy for not wanting to rush into surgery to correct the issue sort of thing. It definitely is a nuisance at times, especially with others who do not know your secrets. Or when you're stuck in the office and needing to change etc. Do I regret my decisions or have I thought about re-potty training? No. I still love who I am, and I'm happy I've been able to come this far Diapers are something I enjoy, I don't see that ever changing. If I had the opportunity to go back to pre 24/7 Becca days, I still would not change anything aside from starting sooner if I could. I'd rather document everything though, and my feelings on different subjects for readers who may consider this lifestyle for themselves. There are definitely pros & cons with everything.

Sadly, a large part of the catalog on Amazon for ABDLs consists of 50-page 'books' that are horribly written and not even worth borrowing on Unlimited. I'm curious what other works come onto this list. A few that are of higher quality: Trailer Park AB: Part I Infant by Valentine (and two sequels) were originally online elsewhere. I think this is the only location for the tale now. Tells the story of a short young college grad who looks way younger than his age renting a trailer and his adventures with gigantic dogs. (Contains TG elements) The Rehab Regression (The Buttons & Blocks Regression Series) is a decent regression romp with multiple sequels. Some of them are better than others. Alex Bridges has Done Adulting and Best Babysitter in Town on there as well that are worth a read. I'm curious to see what else you all suggest! 🙂

But Mikey already has accidents all the time.

I want everyone who is considering a similar procedure to understand the risks involved, which is why I have been so vocal about sharing the known complications (stricture disease, sexual side effects, acute retention from temporary blockages, etc) that I have learned through other patients generously sharing their experiences. Residual blood clots are one of the things I expected the most. I certainly don't make a recommendation of surgery. But I do suggest always to keep an open mind and a willingness to learn, and a full look at risks. Genuine concern and hypothetical risk discussion is welcome and important. Unhelpful posts from those who don't meaningfully contribute to the discussion, and which offer only snark, nastiness, and manufactured schadenfreude are not welcome, and will continue to be reported.

Another sunny day!

Hey everyone! I tried to get this out late Saturday, because of something I had going on today, but it just didn’t happen, so apologies for the lateness now. Fortunately, though, I was able to complete a little more of the story after this as well, and I think with a little pushing, I can put out more chapters than just every other day this week and still meet my deadline. With my plan of this story, I only have seven chapters after this one, so it’s still tight, but I believe that it’s also doable. Also, as a small warning, there is a little violence depicted in this chapter. Please keep in mind that I in no way condone the actions of one Big here and she is only in this chapter to show the bad of this society against the baby-adult Littles. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 12: I Have Become the Dunce of the Rats I was admittedly a bit of a wallflower back home, but I guess being one of the few unregressed Littles under the roof of a Big, had shone a spotlight on me that I couldn’t shake. So, I decided to play it up a bit and luxuriate in the small fame that I was acquiring. Soon, I was the talk of most parties. I was no longer ‘milk drunk’ as most had started to call it after drinking the still prevalent Tabers milk, but I could still entertain the lot of everyone. As September started to just feel the fringes of the coming Fall, Samantha and I attended another one of Oppy’s block parties. So, here I was, at yet another block party and regaling the crowd with stories of Earth. “Fall is my favorite season back home. In my area especially, as there’s just so much to do! Apple picking, fall festivals, campfires, camping, driving with your top down amongst the Fall leaves, Renaissance fairs…” “Renaissance fairs?” One Big suddenly blurted out questioningly. “You mean from the renaissance period? Isn’t that all torture and religious turmoil?” “What?” I always forgot that they had their own renaissance period, but they always tended to focus on the negatives of that time period rather than the positives as our society often did. “Oh… right. No, actually. Everyone just goes and drinks and eats while they watch jousts and all. Some even dress up! It’s really fun.” “So, you all just dress up and play make believe?” another woman Big asked. “All while getting drunk? Tsk. Tsk. Just like irresponsible little children” ‘Crud…’ This pitfall of my stories had happened before, especially when I was asked about Halloween. Sure, on the surface level, these events could seem very childish, but they didn’t always have to be. To a Big though, they rarely could see anything else whenever humans seemed to be involved. “It’s not like that… it’s just a bit of fun. Escapism in a sense…” The Bigs before me nodded and the matter seemed to resolve itself. It didn’t always happen, but I just continued my stories about Earth afterward. As usual though, whenever Judge Franklin had been invited, he always made sure to ask the same question at some point during the night. So, sure enough, he asked right after I finished talking about apple picking. “Tell us more about your government and how it works next, Percy. That’s always very fascinating, right everyone?” The crowd of Bigs nodded as usual, but to them, it was just another story, and Franklin being a judge meant that of course he would be interested in such matters. I would have told him no outright, except, as promised, I always made sure one of the family members was by my side to advise in such matters. Today, was a more somber and reserved Harriet, still recovering mentally at least from her botched mission. Still, even through all that, I could tell she was uncomfortable with the matter Judge Franklin was asking about. So, once again, I evaded the topic. “Maybe, but today I’m talking about fall weather. Maybe sometime in a few months, when it’s more relevant, I can talk about that stuff then.” I always made sure to keep my answers to his questions vague, but I could see his patience was running thin. Each grumble always seemed to send Samantha into a tizzy, but I just calmly moved on each time and tried not to show how truly mystified and scared I was over what was happening behind closed doors. I knew there was a secret by now, but I just wasn’t sure what it was. Still, at least for now, I wasn’t given any state secrets away. The party continued, and once again, I found myself dozing off on the ride back home. I remembered little bits of the rest of the night, but my eyes next opened fully back in my bedroom the next morning. Not much had changed since I first arrived, though it was now complete with a changing table to help ‘Samantha’s back’ in the mornings with my needed diaper changes. Yes, I had begun wetting unwillingly at night lately, even when I wasn’t scared. By now, to me at least, it felt like just another indignity thrust upon me by this world. Regardless, after our usual morning routine, Samantha soon dropped me off at daycare and I rejoined my friends, who were both waiting for me. Of course, I also counted Ditzy, Derek, and Jimmy as my friends here as well, but each were on their own path of regression to various degrees, and to be blunt, the cursed Tabers milk only made them worse. Melley and DB had begun drinking the stuff as well, and I noticed little changes to them, but it wasn’t enough to be completely concerned about just yet. In fact, both had started to cart around their stuffed animals from home as well, which made me feel less weird about bringing my own. I had originally brought Stripe with me on outings before, but after a freak rainstorm in the park three weeks ago almost ruined and flushed him down the street, I decided to opt for Nurple as well. I just couldn’t lose one of my few connections to Earth like that. Never fear though, Stripe and Nurple both still comforted me immensely at home equally and then again especially at night. “So, did you make it to your party last night with Oppy and all?” Melley asked, smoothing out the fur of the stuffed black dog in her lap. “I did. Another triumph I think,” I bragged. It felt good to finally have something over these two. I didn’t like comparing myself, but it almost made me feel more confident and mature. “There were even dozens more than usual last night. Oppy even noted that a few were local politicians and big execs from out of town. I think a few of the politicians even went back to the capital and reported on my stories. Isn’t that awesome?” DB and Melley looked at each other very seriously for a moment and both sullenly nodded their heads. “That’s great, Percy…” Despite the wording, I instantly felt a shift in their demeanors. Both Melley’s black dog and DBs seagull stuffy’s were now being gripped as tightly as they could. It was the classic Littles sign around here that something was amiss but for whatever reason, speaking it out loud could have just led to trouble. In essence, it was our coping mechanism to deal with being silenced, so I needed to know what was happening with what I had just said. “Okay… what’s up you two? You’re acting a bit squirrelly now… is it something I said? Did you fart? Pee? What? Please tell me. I’m your friend.” Both looked at each other for a little bit and seemed to gesture as if to tell me something, but Melley only looked at me glumly afterward. “It’s nothing, Percy. We’re just tired… that’s all. No coffee anymore or something like that … catches up with you… You’ll see.” Melley was good at evading the truth around here. I found that out directly when she had nabbed an extra cookie for each of us two weeks ago and hadn’t gotten caught… even when she was confronted an hour later by Mrs. Katherine, who was notorious for getting the truth out of Littles. Still, I let it go. And so, the day went on. It felt normal, but then an attendant would mention Earth or praise me for something from last night. I guess my stories were rapidly spreading amongst the Bigs, but each time, Melley and DB seemed to grow sour once more. The aura around them would pass, but each time it started to take longer for them to become their cheerful selves once again. So finally, after Miss Tina praised my behavior from last night in front of the Bigs in passing and Melley and DB both frowned afterward, I knew I had to confront them. “Okay. Stop,” I said loudly, snapping back to meet my two friends head on. “What’s going on?” Melley started to speak up, but I cut her off. “And don’t lie and say it’s just nothing. It’s not nothing. I might wear a diaper and feel Nurple here in my arms is my lifeline to safety and security, but I still have my mind. I’m not some simple drooling, pants-pooping Little you can just shuffle off around here. I’m your friend and I need to know. So, spill.” Melley and DB seemed shocked at my sudden confrontation, but once again, just looked at each other and seemed to make several head and hand gestures. A few seemed aimed towards me, while a few others were definitely towards the Bigs. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying to each other, but I at least could see quickly that DB wanted to tell me and Melley wanted to keep it a secret. Finally, though, Melley seemed to give up her protests and DB turned to me. “Look, Percy… what you’re doing is… I mean, have you ever thought about it? I mean, really thought about it?” he asked me intently. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I nodded my head. “I did. I got a bit milk drunk back in July, but since then, it’s just been basic things. Holidays, traditions, histories, and the like. I’ve made sure it’s nothing catastrophic. Just kind of who we are in general more like.” Melley rolled her eyes and DB looked shocked. I still wondered what was going on, but I think after a minute of him just getting his bearings back, he got closer to me and leaned in. “But that’s the problem.” I was immediately confused. ‘How could telling them about Christmas or the Revolutionary War be harmful?’ I sighed. “I don’t think I understand…” I wasn’t mentally regressed, but there were just some days that one could feel like a real dunce around here. DB seemed hesitant to continue, but Melley was looking impatient now. “Just tell him, DB. He needs to know, and he can make up his own mind after that.” DB nodded slowly at his other friend’s suggestion. “Well, you’re telling them exactly what they want to know… or at least mostly.” I quickly raised an eyebrow, still not sure why they were acting like they were. DB sighed but still continued. “You’ve met our caregivers, but what you don’t know about them is that they are kind of on the border. Neither liberal nor conservative for the treatment of Littles, but they’re powerful. Old money and government ties and all, so most want them on their side, so we’ve heard things from all sorts of perspectives when they thought we were playing. The bit you need to know is the one that is a conspiracy against us Littles.” “A conspiracy?” From what I had seen with judges Franklin and Grossman, Reddington, and even Taylor, I always felt like there was a story I wasn’t fully reading all the pages of. There almost seemed to be missing chapters explaining everything, but I thought it was just the Norris family hating Grossman’s and Franklin’s family. DB nodded though and snapped me out of my thoughts. “Yep. Right here at the academy, but it’s all over the country apparently as well and growing.” I looked over to Melley, just to confirm that DB was telling the truth, and this wasn’t just another one of his conspiracy theories. I still felt a little burned after he thought that my brand of diapers had tracking devices in them, and I had told Samantha about them… and she threw out three cases of diapers. “It’s against us Littles, but where do the most Littles come from?” “Here?” I guessed. DB shook his head. “You would think that, but it’s actually Earth. Here, maybe only 20-30% of the population are Littles these days after the last Height War took out a bunch of them. Even with a population of 5 billion here, Earth’s numbers far outmatch this planet’s own.” It seemed hard to believe and I think DB was seeing my doubt, so he just leaned in to tell me more. “Remember, Percy, Earth’s population with a little time could all be Littles for this society. Every. Single. One. Of. Them…” I sat back and hugged Nurple against my side. I didn’t want to show my fear at that moment, but I realized just how right DB actually was. Take me for example. I was an average human, and while I might have had a predisposition to this life in some ways, I was still a pretty average human. So, if I, or anyone else here could be turned or made into a perfect Little, Earth stood no chance… but I felt like I was still missing something. “Okay… you have a shockingly good point, but what does this have to do with my talks?” DB then snapped his fingers and Melley rolled her eyes once more. “Right. Yes. Your talks are the key, you see.” I squinted my eyes trying to see the connection. I still couldn’t, but DB noticed right away. “Look… say you want to convince someone to buy ice cream or a house…” I was still hesitant about it all, but I decided to indulge my friend. “Go on…” “Well,” he continued confidently, “if it’s ice cream and that person is on a diet or lactose intolerant, you could be wasting your time. Market the ice cream to a person with a sweet tooth though… and you’ve just made your sale.” I looked at DB waiting for the punchline. “I’m talking about that knowing someone is the key to making a deal or a plan successful. If they know us on Earth, they can use that information and push us around how they want.” “We would see it pretty quickly though,” I tried to say with vigor, but even my voice betrayed the lack of confidence I had in my own words. Frighteningly, DB was starting to make sense. “We would stop them… I just know it…” “Maybe… but these are Bigs here, Percy,” he said while gesturing all around him. “They live a long time, are patient, and they have the technology to outdo most of what Earth has right now. They’ve been trying for years, but you… you might have just given them the information they need to finally succeed.” “I… I…” I stammered unsuccessfully out. I was trying to deny it all, but with each layer of new information that DB gave me, I felt my resolve crumble just a little more. Each party had been full of academy personnel originally, but now… I was seeing politicians, businessmen… all wanting to hear about Earth. I was starting to feel like the biggest fool ever. “Just think about it, Percy… you saw Chelsea and Samantha in action up close and personal.” I did back at the con for sure. “They lulled you in and took you here. You might be accepting of it now, but they knew just what buttons to press for you and Ditzy, right? Could you really have told Samantha ‘no’ back then when you were under the influence of a single mild drug for only a few days? What do you think would be the effect of these Bigs on Earth if they knew where to hit and they had years to do it? Do you think there would be any area of our society they couldn’t touch? Or even infiltrate?” All this was too much, and it was hitting me with a force that I never thought possible until now. The Bigs and this academy were learning everything… I wanted DB to stop, but he was on a roll now. I could see the fire in his eyes and the passion behind his words. This wouldn’t be over until I had learned everything there was to know about exactly what I had been doing for a few months now. “And think what they want for just a moment,” he said pointing both his fingers at his temples. “All this is leading to one conclusion. Control, but that’s too hard right off the bat. What if we were vulnerable and afraid though? Think of a crying Little… I mean, that’s what they think of Earth anyways. So, if the Little is desperate enough though… they could accept anything, right? Maybe even a deal with their caregiver that would have seemed barbaric or cruel otherwise?” All his ranting and conspiracy theories led here to this one question. If he had asked me a few minutes ago, I would have thought he was just crazy or even too milk drunk. I even saw the discarded sippy cup behind him, but now… I knew where he was going with all this. “No… they wouldn’t…” “Oh yes!” he shouted with a fierceness I had rarely seen in him before. “One exchange between two peoples… give Earth what this dimension has: technology. Earth would of course accept the deal, being so vulnerable, and in exchange, they would give them whatever they want. Say… something they have in abundance? People perhaps?” It was all so simple. The path over the next years seemed all laid out before me now. Bigs were smart and resourceful. They could outpace us in almost everything, but they were also from a different reality. If they wanted a job to infiltrate, they would need information… exactly like the information that I had given them. Right then, I knew that I hadn’t given them state secrets, but I gave them camouflage. I gave them knowledge of summers and falls from back home. They knew what Halloween was and now wouldn’t seem like an alien species or brain damaged when asked what the World Series was. Me… I had given them all they needed to know to get restarted on their plans to take over the Littles of Earth. I didn’t mean it, but as any Little who had accidentally broken a lamp with a misthrow of a ball could tell you, intentions rarely seem to matter in the end. After hearing it all and my part in it, I don’t think it should have been a shock when I started to hyperventilate. “No, no, no…” I tried to self-soothe. It didn’t work. “What have I done?” The tears began to fall. “I destroyed the Earth! I betrayed them all!” I rocked back and forth and tried to hold Nurple as tight as I could. It didn’t work and I just got worse. Meanwhile, DB looked at me in shock. His information was meant to unsettle me and get me to stop, but he had been too effective in his narration of events to come. Half was speculation in all likelihood, but it all just made so much sense. So, to someone like me who had taken pride in their skills of information sharing with all the Bigs, all this had come as one large blow… too big though it seemed for my little brain to process at once. “Oh, crud…” Melley had been messing around with her dog, but then looked over at me. I was almost in a daze by then as I had worked myself up too much, but she could see the issue in all that was unfolding now. While we had just finished lunch and would have normally gone out to play outside while the others took a nap, it was currently raining… and we were inside… during what was supposed to be quiet time. “Shhh… shhh…” Melley tried to comfort me. It wasn’t working. “Easy there… you didn’t know, Percy. It was an honest mistake… shhh… shhh… you’re going to be okay.” “No! I’m guilty!” I shot back, snot coming from nose a bit as I did so. I was a bit too loud, and DB saw that one of the attendants took notice of me now. “I was an idiot! I was a Little who was playing a game I had no business in. I wanted to be an adult again! I wanted to sit at the grown-up table, and I felt my admission was my stories of Earth. Stupid, stupid me!” In my frustration, I even began hitting myself. “Percy… Percy… come on,” DB tried to calm me down, as he saw Miss Tina starting to approach. “I get it, man, but you need to chill. Miss Tina’s coming! Come on, buddy.” Melley stopped rubbing my back as she saw the kindly attendant approaching rapidly. It was protocol after all for her to intervene, so Miss Tina couldn’t be blamed, but still, it was just really bad timing right then. In retrospect though, from her perspective, I could have been seriously injured or even bleeding out from an untold number of things in here. The Tabers milk was dangerous on several levels, but it induced a quick mental regression in most of its drinkers, and that had only led to a few consequences lately. One Little last week, still not fully regressed, drank a whole bottle and then thought they could fly off the top of the changing table when they weren’t strapped down. So, as such, I could have accidentally drunk some and then stuck my hand in a wall socket for all she knew. “Percy… Percy… Come on! Come…” He then stopped as I continued to practice my self-hatred. “Oh, hello there, Miss Tina…” “Hello, DB. Is everything okay here?” she asked, looking directly at me. I didn’t look back and Melley stood up in my place. “He just figured something personal out, Miss Tina. Bit of a shock I guess, but he’s only a little upset now…” I could tell she was trying to get Miss Tina to go away, and she might have normally. Not being a regressed Little who took a nap though, Melley had forgotten about the golden rule of keeping everything quiet. Beyond medical emergencies, it usually took top priority. Miss Tina smiled and looked relieved, but nonetheless, reached down to get me. “I’m very glad to hear that, Melley, but it’s quiet time now. The other Littles need to sleep and upset or not, Percy here needs to try and be quiet. I’ll see what I can do but thank you two for trying to help him out.” “Yes, ma’am,” Melley said dejectedly, now sitting back down after Miss Tina had picked me up. “Thank you…” “Good girl…” Miss Tina then looked back at me and tried to figure out was wrong. After a few questions and a check of my diaper, she was still perplexed over how she could help me most quickly in this situation. “Man… you were all so mature when you were talking to those Bigs last night. Whatever happened to that cute Little, huh?” Her comments and actions weren’t helping. Miss Tina was one of the good ones around here, but she just didn’t get it. I couldn’t be consoled right now, feeling like a traitor to everyone I had left back home. I felt I could never go back now, but Miss Tina was persistent. “Come on, Percy,” she tried to reason with me. “It’s okay to be sad, but you need to at least be quiet right now. Maybe we should go to the quiet room? I think that might be best now.” She then started to tickle me and stroke my face as she began walking toward the back door. “Would that be what you wa… son of a…!” I shoved her about as hard as I could right then. I was in no mood for anything, and I just wanted to let all my feelings out. Nothing she was going to do here would help that and my emotions just got the best of me. Now, it wasn’t hard or anything, but both my hands went sailing right into her chest. She nearly dropped me, but she had been walking around a little to calm me down and we were near the changing tables, so she set me down on one of them. “Oh man, Percy,” she said, rubbing her chest where I had struck. “I know you’re upset, but that really hurt.” I was even stunned by my own actions, and I meekly whimpered, “Sorry… but just please leave me alone… please, Miss Tina…” Miss Tina sighed in clear sympathy for whatever was happening with me, but just ultimately shook her head. “Thank you for apologizing to me, Percy. I understand, but I don’t think I…” “What in the world are you doing?” Mrs. Katherine asked, storming over to us. Apparently, she had watched the whole thing unfold from the beginning. The daycare workers each had their specialties, and Mrs. Katherine’s certainly wasn’t soothing Littles though. Miss Tina seemed shocked. “I was just trying to help Percy calm down. It was nothi…” “No!” Mrs. Katherine bellowed. “You are the Big here. You need to take charge!” Her yelling was making a lot of people stare and there was no way that she wasn’t disturbing the napping Littles, but being who she was, I doubted she cared. “I… uh, let’s keep our voices down, maybe?” Miss Tina suggested. Her priority was keeping the Littles happy, including the napping ones. I think Mrs. Katherine saw it as weakness though, as her eyes immediately flared up. “That’s a no on that front then… what kind of Big do you call yourself anyways?” Miss Tina was about to shoot back, a little angry now herself and the insult lobbed her way, but Mrs. Katherine wasn’t having it. “Just stop talking… I’ll take care of this. I’m sure some other Little needs their nose or butt wiped…” Before I could even register what was happening, Mrs. Katherine swooped in and plucked me away from the changing table and brought me through the back door. Miss Tina seemed too stunned or scared to intervene. The back door led to several areas from a few hallways, but now, all I could think about was that I was here with the dreaded attendant of this daycare. Since I came here, I was warned about several things. Never eat the green paste. Say ‘excuse me’ the best you can if you burp. Chocolate is good, but poo is not food. Don’t swear… the list went on and on and highly depended on the Little, but the one constant from every Little that could still speak was never upset Mrs. Katherine. At first, I even thought that maybe we were going to the quiet room as Miss Tina had suggested before my last outburst. It was basically for nursing Bigs for their Littles, but it could also be used for timeouts, tantrums, or even if everything was just too overwhelming for a Little. To my dismay though, we turned left instead of right. There, at the end of the hall, I saw a sign listing out ‘Punishment Room.’ I think I peed a little right then and my crying seemed to almost stop suddenly on its own. “Stupid Little…” Mrs. Katherine growled as we entered the room. “Crying… and for what? You found out about a little conspiracy of the Bigs here? That you screwed up as a human being?” She scoffed a little bit as she maneuvered me around a few items I didn’t recognize. “Geez… if you hadn’t figured all that out by now… I thought you were brave and maybe even a little rebellious… but now? Wait until everyone hears about this…” I think my stomach fell to the floor right then. Of course, the harshest Big in the academy daycare was in on all of it. My enemies were growing daily, it seemed sometimes, and I didn’t think this day could get any worse, but I was quickly proven mistaken. Mrs. Katherine’s face soon lit up as she spied a single black bench of sorts off to the side of the large room here. “This room is where I get to employ my special talents, Percy. Fought in the Height War and learned a few skills there… even got a boost in longevity as reward for it…” She then set me down on the bench with my front overlayed on the top and my legs nearly dangling over the side with my toes just barely able to support them on the floor. “I think that should do. Struggling is good in here… Now, hands,” she demanded. I was a little slow, but I complied, not wanting to make any of this worse. So, very quickly, both were strapped to the sides of the contraption. “Good… maybe there’s hope for someone like you after all here. Adult Littles don’t last long, but compliant baby Littles… I still punish them, but it’s just to remind them of the things their pointless brains couldn’t retain.” I felt like I was now at the mercy of a demon… a sadist… the devil themselves. I whimpered a little as she then strapped my legs to the bench as well and then suddenly yanked down my shortalls and my diaper. That’s when a terrible realization hit me; I was about to be spanked! The practice was largely thought of as taboo by most, but I had started to notice a trend of sore bottoms coming from several of the Littles whom I identified as belonging to the more conservative caregivers and members of the academy. Knowing about the conspiracy and her connection to it, and this room alone and her excitement upon entering, Mrs. Katherine was clearly a proponent of it. “Please…” I whimpered out. My sobbing had ceased, but now, tears of desperation and panic were rolling down my face. “Hush!” Mrs. Katherine scolded me as she looked in a nearby open cabinet. “Here! Let’s fix that little problem here, shall we?” She then retrieved something from the cabinet and quickly came back over to me and strapped whatever it was around my face, effectively silencing anything I tried to say. “There. That’s better.” She then clicked back over to the open cabinet. I couldn’t see it very well, especially with my blurry tear-soaked eyes, but I could feel my pulse quicken from the little that I did see. In there, there were at least seven different types of spanking devices. Paddles, crops, whips, flogs… and so much more adorned the shelving and cabinet area. I knew what each was, but I was never really into that scene back home. I was almost even too scared back at the con to go into the dark room, so right now… I wanted to flee for my life. If this was a dream, I was about to scream bloody murder and wake up, or somehow, Samantha would come barging in and save me. Sadly, the door never flung open and all I heard was a “Aha! Perfect!” from Mrs. Katherine. I could then hear the clicking of her heels back over to me and I squirmed helplessly as I felt her breath on the back of my neck. “You know… in a way… everyone comes through this room. I was thinking that you were a good boy. Sam even tried convincing me of that… too bad… she’s going to be so disappointed in you for being such a bad boy.” She paused and I could feel whatever she had chosen, start to slide against my bare butt. “Oh well… but I guess I should call today your… initiation.” She then rose back up and I could feel her hand massage my butt a little. “Hmmm… let’s say 20 for today? Can always adjust if needed.” I tried to protest, but only more drool came out from my gag than anything else. So. soon, the only sound came from the swish of the paddle and the smack as it hit my backside. It didn’t take more than four for me to become a complete mess with my butt very much now stinging and on fire. After 15, I felt like I was going to pass out. “There,” Mrs. Katherine finally said at the end, a hint of satisfaction in her tone, “all done! What a good boy, especially for one so bad…” I remained silent. I felt broken… disjointed from reality. Mrs. Katherine just smiled in front of me as she unstrapped me. “Awww. What’s the matter, honey? You shy now?” I still made no reply. Mrs. Katherine instead only pulled my diaper back up and hauled me up and practically thrust me into the corner of the room with my shortalls still around my ankles. “Now, you be a good boy and stand there with your nose in the corner. I’ll collect you later, but any movement until then, and you’ll get five more spanks with something far worse than what you just got.” I only nodded my head. I had no willpower to say ‘no’ to her. I was determined to be a good boy and just end this day as fast as I could now. “Good. Timer starts now!” She then slammed the door and almost every light turned out in the room. Very suddenly, I was standing there, emotionally broken and in pain, with nothing but my tormented thoughts to occupy my time with my nose shoved into the corner. She retrieved me later and removed my gag. I had no idea how long I was standing there in the corner, but naptime was most definitely over now. Most of the Littles then just stared at me and a few of the Bigs seemed to gossip, but I didn’t care. Just wanting to go home now, I curled up under the tree book nook where I was taken on my first day here by Miss Tina. I barely registered anything until Miss Melissa came to collect me. She too seemed concerned but led me to the front. I thought I was going to finally feel relief in seeing my savior, but when I got there, Samantha only looked furious. From out of the corner of my eye, I could see a smiling Mrs. Katherine. Clearly, Samantha already knew about what had happened today… or at least a version of it. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you, mister,” Samantha said coldly as I approached her. Not having the will to fight back or refute whatever Mrs. Katherine had said, I just nodded and took her hand out to the car. I could see Samantha was practically fuming the whole way home and I just held onto Nurple as tightly as I could. He seemed to be my only friend right now, and I felt terrified of what awaited me at home. I felt my whole world was falling apart today. Still, Samantha got us home pretty quickly and we both walked into the living room. It didn’t take long for her to shut the door and confront me in the privacy of our own walls. “I’m very disappointed in you, Percy. Making a racket when the other Littles are trying to sleep? Punching poor Miss Tina? I thought you were more mature than that!” I wanted to say something… anything, but I felt too shattered by everything happening. So, instead, I just drooped my head in shame and exhaustion. “Well?” Samantha pressed, clearly trying to get some kind of answer out of me. “Nothing? You’re just not going to talk to me anymore? No anger? Sadness? Happiness? Disgust? No…” Samantha then seemed to trail off. “Nothing… just blank…” Still looking at the floor and being a little out of it, I wasn’t really sure what was happening, until I could see and hear the quick shuffle of Samantha’s feet toward me. In a second, she was kneeling in front of me and lifting my head up. “Baby… open your eyes and look to the ceiling.” Not wanting to make her mad, I just complied without question. I then followed a series of very strange questions. I was really confused, but I just answered each. I almost questioned if this was Samantha at all or if she had brain damage when she asked me the date, my name, who she was, and a few others like that. She even searched my head, but then seemed to be relieved afterward. “Okay… no scarring… no drugs… what’s going on, Percy? Just tell me and I won’t be mad. I can see now that something’s up.” I wondered how much her promise would actually hold, but I thought simple would be better. “I’m a traitor to Earth, I cried, I lashed out, I was spanked.” Samantha seemed like she was hit by a concussive blast with each blurb that I gave her, but her eyes soon switched to that of her usual understanding ones. “Mrs. Katherine… she lied… she’s…” She then quickly shook her head and took my head in her hands and looked at me with the widest and most apologetic eyes I think I had ever seen. “Oh, baby! Please forgive me. I didn’t know. Mrs. Katherine… she lied, but I should have trusted you. You’re mine… I should have known that you were a good boy and something else was going on. Please forgive me. Can you do that?” She really didn’t need to ask but hearing it all right then broke the trance I was practically under after Mrs. Katherine’s spanking. The dam that had kept me from reliving all my revelations today and the notion of my traitorous self only in exchange for my own pride, broke completely. It all came rushing back in a single instance and I collapsed into her arms in a heap of despair. “Oh! Percy! Baby! Shhh… shhh…” She then started to stroke my hair and back to console me as best she could. Unlike Miss Tina though, she just let me cry and cry. There was no limit here… only caring. Right then, I took comfort in the person that seemed to be rapidly becoming my whole world now. She cared for me in a way that few others ever had in my life, and she almost displayed a near magic ability to always know what I needed in that exact moment. So today, when I had such questions as ‘how long before the Bigs put their plan into motion and bring down human society from the information that I had given them,’ she seemed to know just what I needed. It was a hug and some small ministrations of comfort, but they spoke volumes. I felt I had doomed the human race from my pride and arrogance, but under her care, for today at least, all that seemed to be a long way off. For now, I was just her good boy, and she was my… well, caregiver at least if nothing else. In the end, that’s all we ever really needed each other to be.

Chapter Eighteen I followed Jen out of the bathroom, very much aware of my pull-up feeling thicker than it did before my nap. I was used to wearing them at night and stuff but during the day it was still something to get used to. The pull-ups were great when they were dry, they almost felt like normal underwear in a way, but when they get wet you can tell they are practically diapers. As we made it to the front door I started to slow down and look behind me, wondering where Isabella went, she was still coming, right? I took too long looking behind me because I soon felt my hand being taken by Jen, tugging me along. I did not resist and just turned to follow, making our way back to her SUV. I hated my newly assigned seat in her vehicle, it stole my independence and sense of adulthood. “Mommy,” I said meekly, trying to get her attention, there had to be a way around me sitting in the car seat. “No, Charlie,” Jen said simply, answering my question without me even asking any. “But I did not even ask you anything,” I retorted, confused about how she had an answer to my unasked questions. She can’t do that, it’s not fair. As we were making our way to the passenger side of the SUV, Jen turned around and picked me up. It’s futile for me to resist, it will only get me in trouble and earn me less adult time than I am already lacking. I tried not to pout but my frown was hard to turn around. “I know you don’t like your car seat, baby,” Jen said sympathetically while opening the door, and setting me inside. “But you need to get used to it. To be honest, I have been thinking about even getting you at least a booster seat for your car and jeep.” I don’t know if I was mad or sad at that idea, I have been driving without it just fine. “Please, no. I don’t need it,” I said, pleading for my adulthood not to be stolen away from me. “Charlie,” Jen said, trying to soothe me and stop my catastrophizing thoughts. “The booster seat is just to help you sit higher; help you see over the hood of your car.” I knew Jen meant well but how was I not supposed to assume she just wanted to take my adulthood away? She promised that I would be treated like an adult today and I have only been treated the opposite. I did not cry, the nap helped me gain control of the emotions that had been running loose as of late, but I still was not a happy camper and I think Jen could still tell. “Baby, safety does not have an age, and if you were just a little bigger, I would not make a fuss about it.” “Then why do I feel like you are treating me like your toddler?” I asked, trying not to sound any more childish than I already felt. “You said you would treat me like an adult today.” “I am not sorry that you feel that way because you are my little boy as much as my adult husband.” Jen retorted, “There are going to be some things that will not change, your size, your need to be diapered, and me making sure you are staying healthy. I will treat you like an adult as much as I can, but you need to realize that you agreed to all this.” Her words were sharp but honest. Jen has always been upfront with me, and from the beginning, she told me what she wanted, and I agreed every step of the way. Getting put back in diapers full-time was a bigger step than I realized. I just diverted my eyes, letting Jen finish putting my harness on and buckling me in. Jen just kissed me on the cheek, and put my diaper bag next to me before shutting my door and walking around to the driver’s side. I looked over to my diaper bag and could not tell if Lady Frankie was in there. I know I took her inside with me, and I had her when Jen picked me up and was rocking me to sleep. Did I leave her in the lounge? “Mommy, I don’t have Lady Frankie,” I said worried as she got in the SUV. “That’s not an adult worry you have there,” Jen said sarcastically as she put her seatbelt on and turned over the engine. As the engine came to life, I saw Isabella walking around to the passenger side with giant sunglasses on, holding on to my bunny and something else I could not see. I watched Jen’s head follow her mother’s movements, smiling as Isabella got in the car and buckled up herself. “Thank you, Mother, someone thought we were going to forget Lady Frankie,” Jen said, relaying my recent worry. I could not tell if she was mocking me or trying to instill in me that I was very much as little as she said I was. “Of course,” I heard Isabella say nonchalantly as Jen took my bunny from her and handed it to me with a smile. I took Lady Frankie from Jen, turning my pouty frown into a scowl. Before Jen or I could exchange any words, Isabella said, “Oh, and here is some water for little Charlie.” I started to roll my eyes, what happened to her just calling me Charlie? Could she not resist calling me a little? “Oh, Mother, I wished you did not put it that,” Jen said, making me wonder what they were talking about. “You told me to get him a bottle of water, so he had a drink for the trip. I thought he might enjoy a sippy cup versus a bottle,” Isabella said defensively. “A regular bottle, not a baby bottle. Charlie is already self-conscious about how he is getting treated; this is only going to make him fussier,” Jen said, though I could not tell if she was defending me or just patronizing me. “I’m sorry, I did grab an extra bottle of water just in case he needed more, just give him that,” I heard Isabella suggest. Jen took the bottle of water from Isabella and handed it to me, but as I took it, I saw Isabella put a brightly colored sippy in a cupholder in the center console. At that moment I softened my scowl trying to portray to Jen that I was sorry for being ‘fussy’, her word, not mine. I did earn a sympathetic smile before she turned forward and shifted into reverse to start our journey. It was weird sitting in the back seat again, especially in a car seat. I felt like I was not necessarily ignored, but out of the main circle of conversation. Though it only took Jen five minutes to notice I just put my water in my cupholder and did not drink a drop, making me believe she had ulterior motives in having me drink from a normal transparent bottle of water. “Charlie, I would like for you to have that drink before we get to the museum,” I heard her say, making me grab the bottle of water before she glanced back again. I did as instructed and took a noticeable sip of water, hoping Jen would notice. “Why don’t you try giving him some juice if he does not want to drink water,” I heard Isabella say from the front seat. I watched Jen briefly look over to the passenger seat, giving her mother a look that practically said, ‘Don’t even start.” I had to bite my lip from smiling so much, Jen really did talk to Isabella about treating me better. “Sorry, just saying. . .” I heard Isabella say. “Between Charlie's sweet tooth and coffee intake, he can drink water,” Jen said, defending her reasoning on my choice of drink. Is that what Jen thinks I eat all the time? “I don’t just eat sweets and drink coffee,” I said trying to insert myself into the conversation. “Well, if he is still having a hard time pooping, you might want to try adding some apple juice or something,” I heard Isabella comment. My mouth just dropped when I heard that, what have they been talking about when I fell asleep? “Don’t worry Mother, when we go grocery shopping later this weekend, I already planned on changing his diet up a little,” I watched Jen respond, both ignoring my comment altogether. “What’s wrong with my diet?” I tried to ask. “Good to hear, the little guy will probably be less embarrassed about going poop if he did not have to push so hard,” I heard Isabella say, going back to my private bathroom habits. “Can we change topics, please?” I asked, feeling ignored. “Yeah, this last weekend made me realize that Charlie may need a little more fiber,” Jen said continuing the conversation. “I did feed him some oatmeal with some barriers this morning.” I feel completely ignored, is this how it’s going to be all day? I rolled my eyes and turn to look out the window, whispering under my breath, “Yeah, treated like an adult my ass.” “Baby, are you still tired, do you need your binky?” I heard Jen ask, making me turn in her direction, wondering if she heard what I said. My eyebrows raise and eyes widen as I shake my head no, pleading she makes me take it. “No thank you,” I evenly say, realizing she was waiting for me to verbally tell her. I wait for Jen and Isabella to go back to their conversation before I turn back to look out the window, watching the scenery go by as I try to drink all my water. It was not a long drive to the airport, but it was long enough for me to get lost in thought, especially with Jen and Isabella busy with their conversation. I started to dwell on what Jen said in the bathroom, about trying to go potty again before we got to the museum. I took another drink thinking that it would help me go potty again, though I was not sure it was going to work as fast as Jen wanted it to. After a while I just closed my eyes and just took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, doing my best to just relax. It took a little bit but eventually, I managed to get my Kegels fully relaxed, but nothing happened. I started to lose track of time and was surprised when I felt Jen slow down and make a sharp turn, making me look outside and realize she was parking. “We’re here?” I asked, probably a little too surprised than I should have been. “Did you have a good nap?” Jen said in response, turning the engine off. “I was not sleeping, I was meditating,” I said blushing, due to the fact I felt I needed to defend myself from a childish accusation with another, “I was trying to relax and go potty as you told me to.” My comment earned me a smile from Jen before watching her and Isabella get out of the SUV. As I heard both front doors shut, I hesitated to undo my seat harness, mainly due to the scolding I got last time. Isabella had my door open before I could finish contemplating my thoughts and had me out even faster. “Wait, wait,” I said quickly, trying to stop her from shutting my door, “I want to leave my bunny in the SUV.” How was I getting so complacent about holding my bunny? “You don’t want to take her in with you,” Isabella asked me with an oddly worried face, “you don’t want her to get lonely, do you?” “It’s ok Mother, Charlie will be fine,” I heard Jen say as she rounded the back of the SUV with my diaper bag on her back and my half-drunk bottle of water. “Baby, please finish this, it's not that much.” “Mommy, I never went potty again like you wanted me to,” I confessed as I handed Isabella my bunny to put in my car seat for safekeeping. I took a couple of steps to get beside Jen so I could take my water from her and drink the rest of its contents. Once I was done, I automatically gave her my hand to hold. To be honest I don’t remember the specific date it started but Jen always preferred me holding her hand when walking in parking lots, sidewalks, or super busy areas; anymore it was just habit. “It’s ok, sweetie, we will still get you a new pull-up once we get in,” Jen said softly as she led me across the parking lot. I started to look around to see if I could notice exactly what part of the airfield this museum was on, however, my short stature made it hard. Normally I would just use my phone and look at the maps, but Jen still had mine confiscated, leaving me partially more dependent on her. It did not take much for me to just focus on being in the moment and notice how huge this Museum was, making me realize how big the airfield was for me not noticed this building before. I was impressed to see this massive hanger-like structure, perfectly sitting in the center was the entrance encased in glass. As we walked through the front doors, we were greeted by an information counter which had security on either side. The inside of the place was even more impressive, I could already see part of the different aircraft they had, we just needed to get past the front counter so we could explore. “Hello, just three of you in your party today?” I hear the clerk behind the counter ask, pulling my attention back in front of me. “Yes please,” Jen responded. Since Jen was busy getting us access to the museum, I spotted a trash can where I could toss my empty water bottle. I tried to pull my hand free so I could throw my trash away, but my tugging only made Jen look down on me to see why I was fighting for freedom. I just wordlessly held up my trash, trying to let her know I wanted to dispose of it. Jen just smiled at me before turning back to the sales clerk and letting go of my hand. As I was walking to the trashcan, I could hear Isabella say something, but I did not make out what she said. “Just to let you know it's fourteen dollars for adults and seven for kids,” I heard the clerk say as I was making my way back to Jen’s side, informing us before making a few clicks on his computer. “All taxes and fees are built into each ticket which will bring the total to thirty-five even.” The price did not bother me at first, but as Isabella and Jen arguing over who was, I did the math in my head as I made my way back to Jen and realized I was getting charged as a child. “Mommy,” I said trying to get Jen’s attention, only gaining my hand being held once again. When Jen looked down at me, I realized what I called her in public, making my eyes go wide and a smile creep on Jen’s face, calling her Mommy is turning into a habit. I am not sure how I feel about my newly forming habit, but I do know that I practically embarrassed myself, causing me to draw out more of a pause than I intended. “Yes, sweetie,” Jen responded softening her face to a pleasant smile, playing off the card I put into play. I started to shake my head not ever so slightly to tell Jen ‘Please no,’ luckily, she noticed. “Don’t worry, Charlie, let us pay and then we can go see the airplanes,” she said lightly. I don’t know if she meant to make it sound like I was a child but that is how I took it. “Ma’am,” the clerk said, Pulling Jen and I’s attention to him. “This is for you and your son,” he said, handing Jen a pair of matching armbands. “They have matching numbers, it's just to make sure that your boy only leaves with you and vice versa. It's just a safety precaution, this place is rather large.” I watched Jen sigh as she took the armbands, I did not understand, why was she doing this. I know I am short but how am I getting a child’s ticket? “But I . . .” was all I got out before Jen started to talk over me. “Thank you,” Jen said, turning her attention to me, “Give me your hand, buddy.” I did as I was told as I did not want to get scolded in public, but I did give her a glare that only could be read as ‘I am not your buddy’. Jen just gave me a sweet smile as she put the armband on my wrist before putting hers on. This day was a disaster and the more that Jen points out the more I realize the more it's my own doing, especially this time. Why did I have to call her Mommy? With my new bracelet on I followed Jen over to the metal detectors. Jen had me go first, which allowed me to see that a security guy was rummaging around my diaper bag, checking for who knows what. When Jen came through, the security guy gave her my bag back and then took my hand again soon after. “Mother, we are going to go find a bathroom quick,” Jen said to Isabella as she was walking through the security herself. I tried not to blush, but it was useless, at least Jen was not specific about why we were going to the bathroom. As we continued into the museum the area started to open, giving us a view of all the different aircraft that were on display. Jen was focused on the bathroom as I was too busy gawking at the different planes. “This way Charlie,” Jen said as she gave me a gentle tug, trying to get me to follow her. I guess the bathrooms were only around the corner to the entrance. I followed Jen to the bathrooms but soon started to resist as I saw what door she was dragging me into. “No-no-no, I am a boy,” I said trying to rebuttal softly. Jen quickly turned to me and bent down to me with a gentle look on her face. “Charlie, if we don’t get you changed you are going to leak,” Jen said in a voice only I could hear. “Do you want to have what happened this last weekend, or would you rather go potty with Mommy, and keep your shorts dry.” “Go potty with Mommy,” I respond, matching Jen's hushed tone to try and keep myself from being any more embarrassed than I already was. There were a lot of things I did not want to do but I was done with walking around in wet shorts. That would be four times in one week, and I was not about to let that happen. “You see that door next to the lady’s room,” Jen said pointing to a door I was not paying attention to, “that is a family bathroom, it will be private for just you and me to do our business.” I nodded, giving Jen the signal that I was not going to make any more fuss. Once we were in and the door was locked, I felt I could breathe a little more. Jen however did not let me go, she only pulled me and had me stand next to the toilet, “Sweetie, do you feel the need to go pee-pee?” I looked at the toilet and then down at myself and then over to Jen and shrugged my shoulders, “Maybe, kind of?” I said more confused than confident. Jen got down to my level again and put her hands on both sides of my hips. “Can you be a good boy and try and go for Mommy?” Jen asked me in a sweet tone. As if by habit I reached to undo my pants but was quickly stopped by Jen, “No-no, baby, leave your shorts alone. Give yourself a little push and try to go in your pull-up.” I just looked over at the toilet and imagined I was going to use it to try to force myself to pee, but eventually, a small stream came out but not much, causing me to look back at Jen. “Only a little came out Mommy,” I said, not sure if I was ashamed for what I just did or that I did not feel like I went enough for Jen. “Good job, Charlie, I am so proud,” Jen said with a big smile as she set my diaper back down on the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in a new pull-up.” Jen undid my shorts and pulled them down, making me step out of them with my shoes on. “Can you hold your shorts for me,” she asked handing my shorts to hold onto. I stood there watching Jen rip the sides of the pull-up off and throw the saturated undergarment away. I was quickly and efficiently cleaned up and presented with a dry pull-up to step into. With Jen’s help, I had my pull-up and shorts back on, ready to go back out into the world. We both washed our hands and made our way out, seeing Isabella standing close by waiting on us. “Everything comes out, ok?” Isabella asked as we walked up to her. “Just wet, but we are all clean now,” Jen said in response as if it was a normal thing. I did not understand the use of the word ‘we’ when it was only me in pull-ups wetting myself. “Jen, please, not so loud,” I said trying to keep my face from turning red once again. When will the embarrassment stop? And just like that Jen faked a gasp and put the hand that was not still holding my hand in front of her mouth, “What happened to Mommy?” “But” I managed to say, trying to rebuttal with the rules that were agreed upon. “Calm down, Charlie,” Jen said, as she smiled, “I am just trying to get a rise out of you. Though you called me Mommy first, and you are wearing a wristband that kind of suggests that you’re here with your Mommy.” “Can I at least walk around without holding your hand,” I said with a huff, diverting my eye and accepting my role. I felt Jen’s hand loosen, making me look at her in disbelief, but I slowly pulled my hand away. “So where to first?” I ask, eager to go just run around and look at everything. “It’s your day, so you lead the way,” Isabella said, stealing my attention momentarily before looking back at Jen for approval. With a nod from Jen, I happily turned around and started our self-guided tour, pointing out all the planes I knew and gawking at the ones I didn’t. Inside housed a lot of smaller planes, a lot of them old prop planes that were used during the pre-World War and plenty that came after. They had a few smaller Jets that were suspended in the air as if they were frozen in mid-flight. I was finally feeling like I was in my element, excited to be around planes again. I did my best to cover as much ground as I could, we started at one corner of the building and slowly made our way around. There was not much of a crowd of people here, but it was not empty either. Jen let me walk without holding my hand but that did not stop her from keeping me close to her. As much as I wanted to be seen as an adult, my height compared to Jen did make me feel like I was anything but. Even when I would try and talk about an airplane Jen just smiled and listened innocently, it felt as if I was a kid trying to tell Mommy all my cool facts that I knew. Jen loved that one of my passions was aviation, it was never an interest for her, but she always made the attempt to show interest and made sure to listen as I rambled on sometimes. Eventually, I started to not care how I was perceived, most people who were close to us just saw us as a normal family. The more I relaxed the more time started to be irrelevant as I just kept wandering around and looking at everything the museum had to offer. Jen and Isabell just followed me as I insisted on walking around and seeing every aircraft, though I kept going back to this one P-51D Mustang that they had on display. “That my boy is a P-51 Mustang,” I heard an old man from behind me say. I don’t know if it was just the constant treatment of being little, or just that I was so engulfed in the moment but his ‘my boy’ comment did not bother me. “It’s a P-51D, it has the Packard V-1650-7 engine powering it,” I corrected without even looking back at who I was talking to. Jen suddenly made her presence known to me by standing behind me and putting her hands on my shoulders, making me look up at her quickly and then over to the man who commented. I don’t know if it was Jen, but I instantly felt like I did something bad, “I am sorry, I did not mean . . .,” I said before the man stopped me by holding his hand up. “No need to apologize, My Name is Joe, and I am one of the curators here. “You certainly know your airplanes,” Joe said, holding his hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, my name is Charlie,” I said, Shaking his hand. “Have you been outside yet, we have bigger planes out there along with some helicopters even,” Joe asked, pointing to a double door leading out to the airfield. I quickly looked up to Jen for permission and got her loving smile saying go ahead. “Well, if you would allow me, I could give you a tour out there, maybe you can teach me what you know,” Joe said, humoring me with the knowledge I had of aircraft. “Lead the way, sir,” I said, grabbing Jen’s hand and pulling her along with us. Joe led us to a door that was on the far side of the building, as we went through, we were on the side of the building. There was a path that we followed and with every step, I started to see more and more aircraft. First were the helicopters, both old and new, but as the helicopters seemed to grow in size the aircraft that was sitting next to them still seemed to dwarf them and was even bigger. Joe went on to show me every aircraft that was outside, telling me some of the stories that he had when he was just a boy or when he was in the military. Most of the airplanes were only there to see and not touch, but there were a few that he let me get in and look around. Joe even let me sit in one of the cockpits of the aircraft, due to my small body I could not see out the aircraft, but it was still fun to see all the old steam gauges that were used back in the day. I thought it was the best thing in the world. I was truly feeling like a kid again, “You know walking around all these old airplanes makes me want to go back and see my airplanes,” I said, not thinking. At about that same time, all the water Jen made me drink was starting to make itself known, especially with all the walking we were doing. “What kind of airplanes do you have,” Joe asked as he helped me out of the cockpit, so I did not fall. “I have two Embraer Praetor 600s, one Phenom 300E, and one Phenom 100EX. They are a solid black with bright red tails,” I said being honest. Right before we started to walk back towards the door leading to the inside, Jen reached for my hand. “That is a pretty neat collection,” I heard Joe say as we made our way back to the inside of the museum. As we walked Jen started to walk slower and let Joe and Isabella take the lead as Jen and I started to walk behind them. “Do you need to go potty, sweetie,” Jen asked quietly as we walked. I didn’t blush but I did have a hard time looking her in the eyes and telling her ‘No’ which made Jen understand that I did have an urge to potty. “If you do just go, do not try and hold it,” Jen said to where I could only hear. “Everything ok?” Joe asked as he held the door to the inside open for us. I could not tell if he heard what Jen told me or if he was just making sure that we did not need anything. Between Jen telling me to pee my pull-up and Joe’s question, I was starting to get a little embarrassed and I did not know what to say. “I think I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, blurting out what came to mind first, trying to respond to Joe. I turned my head to Jen to try and give her an ‘I’m sorry’ look. "Mother, I am going to take Charlie potty again,” Jen said looking over to Isabella. Why did this whole situation make me feel small, I don’t think I like this being reminded to go potty thing, and I really did not have to go that bad, I was just caught up in the moment. “When you’re done, come see me in the gift shop Charlie,” Joe said, letting us go do our business as he walked the other way. “Ok,” I said as I followed Jen. As we wind our way through the large open space filled with multiple aircraft, I spotted Isabella getting our attention. “I will be upfront when you two are done,” Isabella said before splitting off herself. Now that it was just Jen and me, I noticed that Jen was slowing her pace more than she normally did to compensate for my little legs. “Mommy why are we walking so slow,” I asked as I looked up at her, intrigued about what was on Jen's mind. “I thought it would be nice to try and give you a little extra time to try and go in your pull-up before we make it to the bathroom,” Jen said as she smiled down at me. Eventually, we did make it to the bathroom, but as Jen went to turn the handle it was locked, making her and I look at each other. I watched Jen look at the lady's room and I instantly knew what she was going to do. What was more embarrassing, having your Wife drag you into the ladies’ room to potty because she won't let you go by yourself or just going potty in your pull-up that you are going to be made to do anyway? “I don’t have to go anymore Mommy,” I told her a little louder than I wanted trying to get her attention and keep her from dragging me in there. “Are you sure, sweetie,” Jen turned to me and asked as she reached down and felt my pull-up. “Did you already go?” “Aww, did the poor little guy not make it to the bathroom?" I heard a woman say as she came out of the bathroom I was about to be dragged into. Both Jen and I looked to see who was talking and saw another lady, dressed in similar clothes as Joe was, indicating she probably works here. “Don’t sweat it, little guy, you're not the only one to have an accident, this place is kind of huge,” the lady said, trying to make me feel better for something I was about to do. “Yeah, we are still working on potty training,” Jen said to the lady, continuing the conversation. “We still have day accidents, so we are not quite out of pull-ups yet.” I could see sympathy from the lady as she turned to me and said, “It’s ok, potty training can be hard work,” before smiling and turning to Jen and saying, “Best of luck to yeah both,” and continuing her way. This whole interaction was super embarrassing but as we stood there, I did need to go potty more than I did a moment ago. “Go in your pull-up here or in the lady's room,” Jen said softly. I quickly looked around to see if anyone else was walking our way before turning back to Jen with a pleading face, I didn’t want to do either. As Jen turned to go into the lady's room, I instantly tried to force myself to pee. I took a breath in and pushed, trying to force something to happen, and with less effort than I thought it was going to take I started to do what I never thought was possible. “Good job, I am so proud of you,” Jen said, turning back to me and smiling, “You know, you have a cute little potty face.” Getting praised every time I wet myself was an odd feeling, but it did make me feel less bad for doing something so juvenile. I was still mid-stream as I felt Jen start walking again, this time towards the entrance of the building. “Mommy,” I tried to call out as I was still trying to wet myself with little luck. Jen was only taking small steps, but it still was awkward to try and wet myself and walk at the same time. “You're ok, honey, just keep going,” Jen said encouragingly. I kept looking down to see if I leaked but could not tell. As we rounded the corner to the front, we did not see Isabella standing anywhere. “Do I really have a potty face?” I asked, before looking around and not seeing my mother-in-law around “Where’s Isabella?” “I don’t know, let's see if she is in the gift shop before we call her,” Jen said ignoring my first question. Jen let go of my hand and put her hand on my back, guiding me in the direction she wanted to go. The gift shop was close to the main doors of the museum, which was exactly where we saw Isabella, chatting with Joe. The closer we got the more self-conscious I was about my little accident. “You know Mother, Charlie was worried you left us, he did not see you when we rounded the corner to the front,” Jen said lightheartedly. “I was not,” I quickly retorted, only slightly forgetting about my embarrassment. “Don’t worry Charlie,” Isabella said, smiling. “I was just talking with your new friend Joe, trying to figure out what model airplane to get you to add to your collection.” As soon as Isabella was done talking, I saw Joe's hand pull out a model P-51 that was painted olive green with a star on both sides of the fuselage. “What do you think of this one, it’s the same one, just different colors as the one that’s on display,” Joe said, handing it to me to look at. “It’s not an Embraer but it's an impressive aircraft. And if you as your Mom I bet she could help you paint it to match your other ones.” At that moment I figured out that he thought that I was a kid, and the airplanes I had were just models. It would be nice to have, though I doubt I would want to paint it, it looks good as it is. I turned me Jen and motioned to her that I wanted to tell her a secret. “Let me look, baby,” Jen said in response to my secret request. I was happy that she was helping me out, but I wished she would refrain from using ‘baby’ in public. I watched Jen rummage around in my diaper bag, eventually pulling her wallet out and looking through some business cards she had. She first pulled out one but quickly put that one back before pulling out another, “Ah, here it is,” Jen said pulling out a business card that said Red Tail Aviation and handing it to me, making me smile. “If you come by any time after. . .,” I start to say before I turn to Jen to help. “After next week,” Jen said simply, helping me out with my sentence. “. . . after next week, Alice and I will give you a tour of our airplanes,” I said as I handed him the business card with Alice’s name on it, trying to invite him over to my work, to show him that I am not just a kid with models. “Ok, this is on the other side of the airfield, I could stop by sometime. And you must be Alice then?” Joe started to say before turning to Jen since he never got her name. “Sorry, Alice is my sister. My name is Jennifer,” Jen said, introducing herself officially. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you and your family today, I will definitely come and stop by,” Joe said holding up the business card I gave him. After a quick handshake, we parted ways again, leaving me to turn to Jen to see what we were doing next. “Well, I already purchased Charlie’s plane, so how about we head out and get some lunch,” I watched Isabella say to Jen. As she heard what her mother said I saw her start to look down at me, instantly aware of what Jen was going to say. “Thank you, for the plane . . . Grammy,” I said softly. It still felt weird to call Isabella Grammy, I am not sure if I like it or not. “You are most welcome, Charlie,” Isabella said with a sweet smile. “How about you let me hold onto it while we get to the SUV, I am sure Mommy would want you to hold her hand, so you don't get hurt.” I handed her the plane back and just reached up and held Jen's hand, unsure how to feel. Nothing else was said, Jen just smiled at me and led me over to the exit, where she and I had to show our wristbands before exiting. When we were halfway to the car Isabella broke the silence and asked, “So, did Charlie make it to the potty?” “Nope, he was a good boy and was able to wet himself before we got in,” Jen said proudly, not telling the full story of what happened. Jen led me around to the back passenger door before unlocking the car and opening my door. Jen looked down at me and slightly hesitated, waiting for me to start my protesting. As much as I hated the car seat, I knew I had little to no say in what I was about to get put back into. I just looked up at her and simply asked, “Ice cream?” I was done protesting today, I wanted to get treated as an adult but every time I tried to force the issue I was shut down. However, my lack of protest did earn me a smile from Jen. “Let's get food first, then we can get ice cream,” Jen said as she reached in to grab my bunny out of my car seat and handed her to me. With my bunny in my hands, Jen picked me up, put me in my car seat, and buckled my harness. At the same time, Isabella hopped in the passenger seat reaching back and setting my new model airplane in the back. “You know baby, I am very proud of you. "You were such a big boy in there,” Jen said before kissing me on the forehead. “I don't feel like a big boy,” I said with a frown. “I could not leave your side because everyone thought I was a kid because of this stupid wristband, and then I wet my pants. . .” “Feel your pants, baby, do they feel wet?” Jen instructed. “No,” I said. “You did not wet your pants, you wet your pull-up,” Jen said positively. “I want you to have faith in your pull-ups and your diapers. If you feel the need to potty, then I want you to go, no more holding it. I promise to make sure to change you before you start to leak,” Jen said lovingly, trying to help encourage a smile. “You're going to have to get used to this, you are going to be in diapers for the foreseeable future Charlie.” With that said Jen just caressed my cheek with her hand, smiling at me like I really was her good little boy. Once I smiled at her, she finally let me be and closed my door, making her way around to the driver's seat. “Mommy,” I said getting Jen's attention as she backed out of the parking spot. “Where are we going for lunch?” When I said it, I was starting to question myself, is it lunch? What time was it? Today has been so weird that I felt I could not even tell what time it was. I mean it had to be past lunchtime, I had already been forced to take a nap and we were walking around for like ever looking at airplanes. I looked out the window to try and see where the sun was, that would tell me how late in the day it was. “Not real sure yet, we are near your work, do you have any favorite spots you like to go to?” Jen asked pulling out onto the road, “Preferably a place that has food you will want to eat.” Even though I did not feel hungry, I knew that I was going to need to eat if I was going to get my ice cream I was promised. “What time is it?” I asked, still confused about how long we had been in the museum. “It's just a little past two, baby,” Jen informed me, making me realize that we were having a late lunch once again. “If I eat good, can I skip dinner?” I asked, trying to cut a deal. I know Jen wanted to make sure I ate good but eating this late and then eating dinner on top was not going to make my tummy feel good at all. “Absolutely not,” I heard Isabella say in front of me, instantly making me furrow my brows at her comment. Jen did not say anything, but I did feel the heat from her glare that she gave Isabella. “Sorry, I did not mean to overstep my bounds,” I heard Isabella say, I could also imagine her throwing her hands up as if to surrender a fight she knew she was not going to win. “Baby, I will make you a deal,” Jen said as I watched her turn back to driving. “Eat something small for me and then we will get your ice cream. But I have some shrimp I want to cook later for dinner.” “I got just the place,” I responded excitedly. “Tony’s Tavern has this super amazing dessert that is amazing, they also have good food too.” “A tavern?” I heard Jen repeat, questioning my choice. “It’s still daylight, and yeah, a tavern. It's the favorite spot the pilots like to go to when they are in between flights,” I said defending my request. “Alice even likes this place.” “Tony’s it is, but no alcohol,” Jen said, making me smile.

Thank you all for the awesome comments! I'm still a pretty new writer when it comes to non-screenplays (yalls might be able to tell from the way I write lol). I'm learning a lot more about myself through this whole process, (which is very exciting), and one of the things I learned is that I cant write anything unless I completely plan it out beforehand. Luckily for you reader (yes you.) this is a great because it means I will finish this story completely. If you have any, I would love constructive feedback and critique. I went to school for something similar, so trust me I don't get upset with comments like that. They are well appreciated. Enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading! The Song I love today Chapter 2 It was the next day when I arrived back at the facility. The weather was surprisingly much more pleasant than the previous, or maybe I was just more excited and less nervous. Last night I had the opportunity to text and then subsequently video call my soon-to-be caretakers. I asked a lot of questions that seemed to be no-brainers to the couple, like “Do you really have a crib big enough to fit me?” or, “How big is your pool?”. The response to that one was met with what I could only guess was Olympic size measurements, then a stern talking from Jane. “You can only go in with floaties and a big watching you.” I was a tad disappointed at that because I did like swimming, but if this pool were as big as they say, then it would make sense to be cautious. After I asked most of my questions, they started asking questions about me. They seemed to ask much more surface-level questions like “What's your favorite snack?” and “Do you like any cartoons?”. They listed some tv shows that I'd never heard of before, and I told myself I would check them out later. It did surprise me a bit by how excited they were, almost like a couple expecting their first child would act. I pushed past that thought though, because at the end of the day, they seemed like really nice people. * * * * * * * * Driving up to the front gate, I was given different directions to go this time. I was headed towards what looked to be a large underground parking garage, but more massive than any I had ever seen. I only wondered how far the tunnels went and how big of a complex this was. ‘The military doesn't even get this large a budget!’ I thought to myself, even though I've never actually been in any military compounds, I wouldn't know for sure. As I got near the entrance, I entered a roundabout with multiple people standing to the side. I saw Lisa, a nice-looking woman I hadn't met and a woman dressed like a nurse. Two armed guards stood next to them, which made me a little nervous, but seeing all these people here filled me with a dread that was hard to explain. ‘Were they doing this all for me?’ I thought. I felt as though I didn't deserve this at all, especially for free. I let that thought go as I parked my car next to them, and Lisa came over and motioned for me to roll down my window. The air conditioner fans were loud in the underground facility, but I was still able to hear her clearly. “Hey hun, you can just park it here.” She said in a happy, but weirdly motherly way as if upset by the fact I was driving myself at all. ‘They take this whole caretaker thing so seriously?’ I thought to myself. I got out of the car and walked my way around to hand Lisa the keys. She took them and handed them to one of the guards; he seemed to nod in recognition of something. The nurse and another unknown woman walked forward to me as the nurse motioned for my hand. Butterflies buzzed through my stomach as I contemplated taking it. I didn't have much time to relish that feeling though because the no-named woman started to speak, “It's okay Jackson.” Her words immediately made me feel better. “I'm your caseworker Emily, but you can call me Emmy.” She held her hand out for a shake, and I took it. “Nice to meet you.” I blushed, feeling like a nervous child who has a crush on his teacher. She only giggled at my demeanor before tugging on my hand to guide me through the front double doors. The entire group followed, including one of the armed guards, who felt incredibly menacing. Emmy must have noticed me looking back nervously though, because she kept my attention towards her. “That's Jeremy. He looks tough, but he wouldn't hurt a fly.” I looked back again to see Jeremy smiling affectionately toward me, something that I hadn't noticed before. The nurse on the other side of me put her hand on my back, helping guide me into the compound. Until this point, everything looked white and clinical, almost like a hospital might. The long hallways didn't help the hospital's accusations, but as we got closer to our destination, it started to look much more like a pediatric department. The walls were adorned with bright pastels and sprawling green landscapes. The entire room put me at ease, which I assumed was the point. I was guided into one of the many rooms in the long, colorful hallway, and when we entered one, I saw that it looked exactly like a doctor's office. This office had a lot more though than a typical one, such as what looked to be a large tub, a much larger examination table, and a lot of technology that I'd never seen before. Emmy led me up onto the large examination table, and as I sat down, I felt truly small with the whole group now surrounding me. I began to feel overwhelmed until Lisa spoke up to break the short silence. “It was nice meeting you Jackie!” She took my hand in hers, and I looked up at her bubbling face. “Nurse Patty and your caseworker Emmy are going to take good care of you, okay?” I nodded in response. “You be a good boy for them, alright? No acting up!” She giggled and patted my back affectionately, then waved goodbye as she and the guard exited the room. Closing the door behind them, I was left with the two women, and I started feeling more comfortable. The feeling didn't stay though as I started thinking more and more and got more nervous again, but the feeling stopped when Emmy put her hand on my thigh. “It's gonna be alright, okay?” I sat there looking into her bright blue eyes pondering for a second. I started to melt as all my thoughts started surrounding her and her affectionate smile. “Kay,” I responded. She giggled at my sudden casual demeanor then scuffed up my hair a bit. I giggled at the sudden intrusion but then lavished in the welcome attention. Nurse Patty popped up behind Emmy with a rolling cart and held a puffy white square, which I only now just realized was a diaper. “Let's get you ready, okay? Arms up.” I started to fuss with my shirt, feeling unable to follow her directions and looking down at my dangling legs. She cocked her head to the side, confused at my sudden unwillingness to participate. “What's wrong honey?” she rubbed her hands on my back. The tension loosened as she soothed, and I spoke up quietly while still looking down, “I don't… want that.”. Emmy looked confused, before turning to Nurse Patty and noticing the diaper. The nurse decided to speak up, “We need to get you into protection in case you have an accident.” she said clinically like there wasn't anything embarrassing about wearing a diaper. I blushed at the insinuation that I would have an accident and meekly responded, “I don't need that…”. Emmy went behind me and decided to tug my shirt up like you would a fussy toddler. “It's going to be okay hun, you need it for when we transport you.” I looked back at her with my shirt half tugged up and she pulled it off completely, leaving me bare-chested. “You won't be able to use the pot-... I mean bathroom for a little while.” Emmy stumbled on her words, but I didn't have time to think about it because Nurse Patty suddenly started undoing my pants. “Bu.. But I can use the bathroom!” I pleaded, sounding much like a child rather than an adult. Nurse Patty finished pulling my pants down and she spoke, “You need to be mature about this hun.” she said plainly. I protested, “There isn't anything mature about a diaper!” but Emmy simply pushed me down onto my back while shushing me, and Nurse Patty folded my pants up and put them on the cart she brought over. “It's going to be okay Jackie, Can you be a big boy for me?” I blushed but started to fill with a weird sense of need. For some weird reason, I felt the desire to be good for her… To be a big boy for her… The thought confused me and I responded by retreating into myself and nodding meekly. I heard a loud crinkling as Nurse Patty took the plain diaper off her cart and fluffed it up right in front of me. I only felt more flustered after noticing just how big and loud it was. I couldn't close my legs at all, and the thought made me flush red. Emmy seemed to notice my discomfort though, because she put her hands on my head and petted my hair lovingly. I started to melt in her touch as she guided me back further onto the soft examination table. I could only look up at her affectionate smile and soft eyes as she felt and parted my hair again and again, lulling me into comfort I hadn't experienced much at all in my life. She didn't stop at all though, and as I was distracted by her soothing gestures, I felt my legs begin to move and my lower half was lifted completely into the air. I tried to look up at the invading feeling, but when I tried to do so, Emmy just pushed me back down lightly, adding to the soothing gestures with soft murmurs and quiet tapping. “Such a good boy… you're doing so well.” I blushed more and closed my eyes, feeling a light sprinkle on my groin, then a subsequent pressure change as the diaper was snuggly fitted on me. I felt the tapes tug, gaining a new sense of comfort as the padding pushed into all the right places. I could hear the Nurse cleaning up her station, but that didn't matter to me as I layed still with Emmy soothing me like a baby. I stayed still for a while, closing my eyes and loving every second of it. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but after a while, I was interrupted when I heard something being wheeled up next to me, but I didn't care to look up. However, like all good things in life, they must come to an end. I felt a light tapping on my forehead as I heard Emmy giggling softly in front of me. “Time to get up baby! We gotta see your mommy and daddy…” She spoke incredibly softly, but to my surprise with some sad undertones. It was almost enough for me to miss her choice of words, but at the moment, it didn't matter to me much. I tried to bask in the moment a little longer, but I felt pressure on my back as Emmy lifted me up. I sat there on the table, only now realizing how fluffy my crotch was. I experimented with pushing my legs together and poking at the foreign padding. All of that stopped though when Nurse Patty spoke up. “You can play with your diapers later baby, we gotta get going now.” I blushed at her words but only gave a small nod in response. The two seemed to coo at my sudden shy nature, which only helped my blush to redden more. I felt their hands motion for me to get off the table, but instead of standing when I got up, I was sat down in a strange-looking wheelchair. I haven't felt any wheelchairs like this before, but I didn't have the opportunity to think about it because as soon as I sat down, I was buckled in. I sat dazed and confused by the sudden restraints, but it didn't last long as I felt myself being pushed out the back door of the room. I blushed, now realizing that I was completely naked except for the diaper. I attempted to wiggle, but both women kept on moving while ignoring my fussy nature. I was lucky that there wasn't anybody in the hallway we were in, and pretty soon, I approached a large metal door. We waited for a second with Nurse Patty coming to my side to input a code on the wall, and all of a sudden, beeping noises started playing as the door mechanically opened. I immediately started fussing more with the restraints as I noticed all the people with lab coats and armed guards standing idly by. I tried calling out to Emmy, but she only pushed me further until we stopped at a weird pod-looking device with some people already in it. The people seemed to be sleeping, and I found this whole situation very confusing. I didn't have much time to get into my head though, because Emmy came around and knelt to my level, placing her hands on the front of the wheelchair. “I'm going to be with you the entire time, okay? You have nothing to worry about.” She finished speaking, and Nurse Patty came around to start unbuckling me out of the strange wheelchair. The two worked in tandem as I was lifted onto my feet. I only noticed once I stood up that the people in the pods were dressed just like me with only diapers on. Some of the diapers looked different though, some less plain and others more colorful and childish looking. Emmy and Nurse Patty ensured they were in my view the entire time before leading me towards an open pod. “Running behind schedule again, Emily? Typical…” I heard a gruff voice behind me. Emmy looked in that direction and tensed up a bit. “Sorry sir, I'll get to it quickly.” Nurse Patty prepared the pod in front of me and after she was done, Emmy much more hastily than before guided me into it. I was pushed back into the harness as my heart rate started to rise and my breathing quickened. Emmy must have noticed this though, because she started soothing me almost immediately, “I know this is scary, but I need you to be a big boy for me… Be brave for me, okay?”. Her last words lingered in my head for a second before she stood up and clicked a button on the side of the pod. A harness was tugged around me tightly and I started to fidget with it almost immediately. It was uncomfortably tight, and I looked up to Emmy for help, but she only looked down at me sadly. This was the first time I'd seen a frown on her face. That didn't help me calm down, but it didn't matter anyway. The glass door to the pod closed shut and it started to fill with a weird smoke. I lost the energy to continue fidgeting with the restraints and only groggily looked around in my small enclosure. My eyes became blurry, and I tried screaming out for Emmy, but nothing came out of my mouth. It wasn't before long that my eyelids closed, and I was gone.

(I second that! 😂) Meeting

I found AMGR to be entertaining and helped tie up some of the open issues from AMMR. The disappointment was the ending felt a bit rushed, really did not cover Sarah’s conversion to full time diapers and how that effected her babysitting or if her foster parents thought this was strange. Hopefully can be explored in the third installment! Definitely worth the purchase.

That's because your car system is linked to your Apple phone device. ...whether you know or not, or want it or not...

They applauded again, and Sawyer turned back to him. The women came forward with small jars. As he expected, it looked like Baby Food. However, he didn't expected what they showed him the jar up close. "Extra hot Jalapeño," it read. He looked at it first in surprise, then in horror. "That's right diaper girl, we have a real treat for you tonight," Sawyer said. "Be a good baby for mommy and eat it all, and we won't spank you, ok?" He nodded. She untied the gag, and shoved a spoonful of mush into his mouth. Instantly he gagged. His mouth burned, and he wanted to spit it out. However, Sawyer held a hand in front of his mouth, and he swallowed. "Open for the choo choo train!" She teased, and forced another spoonful in. A dozen women surrounded him, each holding a jar. They forced in spoonful of disgusting, burning mush into his mouth until his stomach was bloated and aching. Already cramping before, he stomach was now almost in as much pain as his bottom and his mouth, and more kept coming. "Please, no more," he whined. Jordan raised her eye brows at him. "Oh no? Shall we discuss it over another spanking?" He whined, and opened his mouth again. After hundreds of spoons of burning mush, he was moaning and dripping with sweat. "Awww, so pathetic. Mommy went all out of her way to get that custom made for you, and you don't like it? You know some real men eat stuff for fun, right?' "Yes, mommy," he said. The girls giggled at him using the name. "Good boy," she said, and he blushed at the compliment. "See? Good behavior gets you rewarded. Now, do you want something to wash that down?" He nodded. "Yes, mommy, please." "Would you drink ANYTHING to get that burning taste out, since you are too much of a pathetic wimp to handle it?" "Yes mommy!" "Say it. Beg me diaper girl." "Please mommy! I'm too much of a pathetic wimp to handle it! Please give me something to wash it down!" "Ok," she said, and giggled. She forced another baby bottle of water into his mouth, and he drank it. The burning in his mouth was still there, and he eagerly accepted another, then another. His bladder began to ache. From what they were making him wear, he doubted that would end well for him. However, his mouth still burned, and he took more in. "Good baby," she said, and patted his head. "Now lets have some fun." She lifted him and sat him back on his knees. She shoved the pacifier back in his mouth, and Liz brought another set of tubes from behind the couch. She stuck one in his diaper, and attached another to his pacifier, which he realized had an adjustable hole in the teat. "You, my little diaper girl, are going to be our spare garbage disposal and toilet tonight. One of these pipes goes into your mouth, the other your diaper, pray we use the right one more then the wrong."

It is hard to pinpoint exactly when I got there. At first, I concentrated on peeing in my diaper every few minutes. It was kind of like the potty watch, only I peed in my diaper. That led me to a spot where I peed easily and stopped monitoring when I peed. I like to travel, and wearing diapers on a trip can be a PITA, especially if you are around other people most of the time. I managed a 2-week trip in 2019 wearing Pull-ups and only using diapers on the airplane (no way will I ever seat on an airplane without a diaper again) and tried to put all of my pees in the toilet. It worked, but I was eager to get back to diapers when I got home. After Covid and spending so much time by myself, I just stopped caring about holding my pee, trying to pee, or whatever. I wear diapers to work (and thick ones with a booster), but will pee in the urinal if I think about it. Most of the time, my diaper is a little damp when I leave, but sometimes it is ready to be changed before I leave. I almost always let out a large (for me) pee just before I step in my car. Compare 2019 to what is happening today. I'm traveling and trying to be potty trained this week. I'm wearing Pull-ups, but trying to use the toilet when I need to. It's exhausting because I'm constantly thinking about my bladder, and I've already had two leaks into my Pull-up. I've thought about conditioning myself to pee in underwear like I do a diaper. The diaper diaper makes a difference over the Pull-up, because I've experienced what happens when a Pull-up overloads itself. It happened on my 2022 trip with my cousin. I honestly don't know what the status of my bedwetting is. I don't sleep soundly the entire night. I go through about 6 or 7 REM cycles through the night. I know that I usually have a significant void when I am awake between 4 and 5 AM, and my diaper doesn't feel very wet before then. I don't know if I have peed before then, but I don't think my diaper is completely dry. After that, it happens quite a bit. Maybe I am aroused by the urge to pee, but it doesn't feel that way. After that, it happens quite a bit. I'm sure I could get up to use the toilet, but it disturbs my sleep.

Problems after surgery in Mexico to become incontinent that many people warned you about? Imagine that!

And most of these words have caused pain and aneurysms in my head because you love to torture us.

I'm in a zoom meeting at work in just a thick diaper and a t-shirt. How cool is that as an adult baby that I can do that, while, grown-ups, adults and big kids have to dress for a meeting. Whereas me, being an adult baby can dress like an adult baby for a meeting.

I can, and I felt that I gained some success when I stopped worrying about it. What I wanted was to pee my pants without thinking about it, and that doesn't always happen. Sometimes I know well in advanced when I'm going to pee, especially if I'm sitting. However, most of them when I'm standing- my bladder squirts out pee at random times- and sometimes I have bigger voids with almost know process. The best way to describe is that my bladder has the authority to release without approval from the brain, but most of the time it lets my brain know. Sometimes my brain sends the hold signal- and it works. Sometimes the bladder bypasses the brain and releases without letting the brain know before hand. The less I worried about relaxing, the more often my bladder bypasses informing my brain.

Chapter 3: Point of No Return Past the point of no return The final threshold What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn Beyond the point of no return? The music Mom played in the car always had to be educational. She had been a theater actress until Grace was born, when she’d traded that for the stability of a tedious office job. Even after all these years, she still had a thing for musicals. We’d been listening to The Phantom of the Opera on car rides for the past week and a half. It had been a desperate effort to keep Mom from singing along to the lyrics while my friends were in the car. It was one of her favorites; Mom had parts in the musical as a high school student and later as a professional actress. Thank goodness the musical was nearing an end. But that raised the uneasy question of what Mom would have us listening to next. Grace and Jackson had the two bucket seats in the middle row of the van, while I sat between Emma and Angie in the back row on the way home from the soccer game. There were few things capable of fully distracting me from my years-long quest to get my hands on pull-ups or diapers, but soccer was one of them. And our season wasn’t over yet. Emma had scored the winning goal with five minutes remaining, heading the ball into the net after I lofted a pass into the penalty box. Mom was driving us home so that Dad could put in an order for pizza. Dad leaned over to tilt his head and look at us from the front passenger seat. “We need to figure out what kind of pizza to order.” That led to an immediate clammer of responses. I wasn’t particular about my toppings. But my siblings and friends all had strong preferences. “Hold up,” Dad said. “One at a time. Tell me what you’d like when I say your name.” After getting each of our answers, Dad determined that we’d need cheese, pepperoni, and BBQ chicken pizzas to have something that would be suitable for everyone’s palates. He placed a delivery order on his phone. The pizzas would arrive ten minutes or so after we made it home. We pulled into the driveway. The ignition was turned off. The music came to an abrupt end just as the chorus was repeating. Past the point of no return. My efforts at being hydrated for tonight had continued throughout the soccer game. Playing midfield was hard work, so I didn’t have any difficulty going through a couple of bottles of water. This would be it, though. Once I began to wet the bed, there would be no going back to the way things were before. There would be no hiding that I was wearing pull-ups. Not from Mom and Dad. Most likely not from my sister. I felt confident I could keep my secret from Jackson. And there was absolutely no way I was going to allow my friends or anyone at school to discover it. Could I live with that? Could I live with my parents and sister, thinking I was a bedwetter? Was that a fair price to pay for finally getting what I had been seeking for three years? I tried to push those worries to the side. My sister had been a bedwetter, and she had turned out completely fine. Pretending to be one couldn’t result in things going any worse for me. Besides, once I was old enough to be able to get pull-ups on my own. I could slowly stop wetting the bed, pretending that I had grown out of the issue. I made my decision. I unscrewed the lid to the half-full bottle of blue Gatorade sitting in my lap and drank another few ounces. If the amount of liquids I’d been drinking so far this afternoon and evening had stood out to anyone as odd, no one said anything about it to me. Emma and Angie left their sports bags in the trunk as we got out of the van. Mom would take them home after dinner. Something wet and rough began to lick my leg as I sat down on the couch. “Shoo!” I gave Chester a mostly gentle push away from me. The cat flicked its tail in annoyance. He jumped up on Angie’s lap instead. I had thought it was cute when our cat had first licked my legs after returning home from a soccer game one evening a couple of years back. I just thought it meant that he really liked me. Leave it to Grace to spoil the mood. She had informed me it was probably only due to my skin being salty from sweating. Chester didn’t love me. He wanted to eat me. And if I were to suddenly keel over and die, he probably would do just that. It’s hard to look at your beloved pet the same way again in light of that information. Yes, a family of redheads had, of course, adopted an orange cat. The jokes practically wrote themselves, and Angie and Emma had been more than willing to make them in the three years since our family had adopted that orange menace. The doorbell rang. Dad went to the front door to get the pizzas. Mom went down to the basement to grab some soda for us. I followed my friends and siblings to the dining room, where the three pizzas, as well as cheese bread and dipping sauce, were laid out on the table. I was just about to pick up a plate to put some slices of BBQ chicken pizza on when Mom called me over from the kitchen. “Madelyn, can you come here for a second?” Mom was waving at me from the kitchen. I set my empty plate down. That Mom was using my full name wasn’t a promising sign about where this conversation was heading. Maddy – with a “y” – was what I usually preferred to be called. When a new teacher was going through the roll call for the first time at the start of the school year, I would make sure to let them know that I preferred my nickname rather than Madelyn. Sometimes, Grace and my friends would tease me and call me Mads, especially if I happened to already be irked by something. That could get annoying pretty quick, even if I had to admit that it was rather funny. Mom and Dad were usually good about calling me Maddy, except for when I had done something wrong. Then I was Madelyn. But what exactly had I done wrong? Mom was still holding the two-liter Mountain Dew that she had brought up from the basement. That was going to be key to the success of my plans tonight. Plenty of caffeine and sugar to keep me up later, and I would be well-hydrated before going to bed. “Maddy, look at me.” “Huh?” “Did you not hear a word that I said?” I looked down at my feet. Had Mom been talking? “Um. Maybe not.” Mom sighed. “I noticed that you hadn’t cleaned the cat litter when I went to grab the soda. Can you please go and do that now? There weren’t a lot of chores that I had to do, but one of them was that it was my responsibility to clean the cat litter every day when I got home from school. The chore had completely slipped my mind. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. It wasn’t like I was intentionally trying to avoid it. I didn’t like scooping the cat litter, but it beat washing dishes, which was one of the things my older sister was tasked with helping out with. “Now? But I’m hungry? I’ll go do it after dinner. Promise.” “It needs to be done now, Madelyn. We don’t need the basement to get all stinky.” There was a subtext beneath her calm but firm tone, one that suggested something both Mom and I knew. If I didn’t complete that task right now, I was likely going to forget to do it until tomorrow. And Mom wasn’t going to be all that happy about it. Besides, I didn’t have anyone but me to blame for needing to do the chore; I had been the most vocal proponent of getting Chester a couple of years ago. The sound of my feet against the wooden stairs echoed noisily as I descended into the basement. Mom wasn’t wrong about the litter being stinky. I wrinkled my nose as I went about the unpleasant task of cleaning up after the cat as quickly as possible. <><><> We brought our food into the family room, where a trio of couches formed a half-circle facing a large, flat-screen TV. Grace had retreated to her bedroom to eat her pizza in solitude. Her tastes in TV shows were a lot different from my friends’ and mine. She pretty much avoided Emma and Angie when my two friends were over. To be fair, I gave my older sister’s high school friends plenty of distance as well. Being the last to fill my plate and cup had come with its advantages. With everyone else already in the family room. I filled my cup to the brim with pop, drank half of it, and then filled it up again. I would need to brush my teeth extra good before bed tonight. That is, if I remembered to do so. That was another task I had a hard time keeping track of, much to my parents’ – and dentist’s – annoyance. Angie – short for Angelina – had only cheese pizza on her plate. She was the pickiest eater I had ever met. I didn’t know how she managed to get enough calories each to subsist. The girl with dark brown hair done up in a ponytail eyed my BBQ chicken pizza as I took a seat next to her on the couch. She looked quite put off by it. “I don’t think that counts as pizza,” Angie said. Emma rolled her eyes from the other couch she was sitting on by herself. “Says the girl who won’t even eat pepperoni and sausage.” “Hey, I saw a documentary about how they’re made,” Angie retorted. On that topic, I did actually take Angie’s side, though, unlike her, I wasn’t well on my way to becoming a vegan. “She does have a point, though,” I said to Emma while taking a bite of my chicken pizza. “I don’t really care for mystery meat.” We were streaming a show on Netflix while we ate our dinner. I wished my parents had been willing to pay enough to avoid ads, but instead, we were getting interrupted every fifteen minutes by commercials. My parents had left the room shortly after finishing their pizza slices, leaving control over what was on the TV to us. I usually looked down at my phone during the commercial breaks, but this one caught my eye. It was something I had never seen before on the TV: an advertisement for the very product I was trying to get my hands on by becoming a bedwetter. There were a bunch of boys and girls dressed in pajamas for a sleepover. There was a narrator talking about how two of the kids had an embarrassing secret they needed to hide from their friends. “Wait, are those diapers for teenagers?” Angie asked as the ad showed a boy and a girl, not all that younger than ourselves, putting on a pull-up. Pull-ups, I thought silently. Those are pull-ups. If they were diapers, they’d have those sticky tapes to attach them around the waist. That was not a distinction I was going to dare bring up to my friends, though, so I had to sit silently as they gave their loud observations about the commercial. “What kind of loser would wear those?” Emma said as the ad broke away to show a picture of the product and its packaging. I stared straight ahead at the TV, not because I wanted to watch the advertisement while my friends were present, but because I wasn’t sure how successful I was being at putting on a poker face. It wasn’t that I wasn’t aware of how unusual my desires were. There was a reason I had confided in no one over the past three years. There was a reason that all my attempts to fulfill it had been conducted in utmost secrecy. I knew my friends would find the idea of someone their age being a bedwetter to be strange or weird, but to hear the venomous ridicule coming out of their mouths was something altogether different. It raised the stakes of what I was about to do tonight. “Yeah, that’s really gross,” I added, pretending to share their disgust over the topic as well. There was a sudden realization in the middle of the conversation. I needed to pee. Badly. I didn’t leap up from the couch. I needed to preserve at least some of my dignity, but I did walk out of the room rather quickly, that walk turning into a jog to the bathroom as soon as I was out of sight. I pulled down my underwear, wishing it was a pull-up I was removing instead. But if it had been a pull-up, I wouldn’t have needed to rush off to the toilet in the first place. My urine was even clearer than it had been before dinner. The plan of getting extra hydrated was working. I would have no issues peeing in bed tonight. Everyone was still focused on the TV when I returned to my place on the couch. Nothing more was said about the ad for pull-ups for bedwetters. It was long forgotten as the drama of the TV show continued. Our next soccer game wasn’t until Sunday, but we’d already made plans to meet up at Angie’s place tomorrow after lunch. We watched two episodes before it was time to say goodnight to my friends. The word was one that was difficult to say in light of the advertisement on TV, and I nearly stuttered over it as I waved goodbye to Angie and Emma as they followed Mom out the door. <><><> I picked up Chester off of the bed, set him down in the hallway, and made sure the door was actually shut securely behind me before I returned to bed. For a cat as dumb as he was, the fact that he had learned to open my bedroom door in the middle of the night was a source of endless annoyance for me and plenty of amusement for my siblings. For whatever reason, he had decided that I was his person, and therefore, my bedroom was the one that he wanted to be spending the night in. The problem was that my bedroom door didn’t always close all that securely, so if that fat orange cat were to push hard enough against it, he could get it to open enough to slip through and come sleep on my bed. I wanted no part in waking up to his butt being planted on my face. Not again. No, thank you. Tonight, of course, I had bigger concerns about him being in my bed than where he would plant his behind. It wouldn’t do to have the cat get caught up in the bedwetting that was set to happen in less than an hour. I looked at the digital clock on my nightstand as I returned to bed. Still, thirty minutes to go until midnight. I’d been in bed for almost an hour now. Since it was still technically part of the school year, I had a bedtime, even on weekends. Normally, I would have been annoyed at being sent to bed at 10:30 p.m. this close to summer break, but tonight, I did so without complaint, though I still had to be reminded by Mom to make sure to brush my teeth. Midnight was the earliest I could attempt to wet the bed, but I still had to wait to make sure everyone else was asleep before I began. Jackson, being six, got sent to bed right after dinner, around 8 p.m. He was an extremely sound sleeper. Nothing was going to wake him until he got up to zoom around the house and watch Saturday morning cartoons around 7 a.m. My parents were still up watching TV at the moment. This was their chance to watch the shows that Jackson and I hadn’t been allowed to see yet and ones that Grace had no interest in. But their evening schedule was at least predictable. Give them another ten to fifteen minutes, and they’d be brushing their teeth and taking out contact lenses. I’d likely be able to hear my dad snoring from the hallway before midnight. Grace was the wildcard, but whether she was asleep or not was less of a concern. She tended to seclude herself in her bedroom on weekend evenings. The main problem was that I was already beginning to feel a fairly strong urge to pee. As the evening wore on, my trips to the bathroom had become more and more frequent. I wasn’t sure how much I had drunk since coming home from school, but I was sure it had to be some crazily excessive amount, much more than whatever was recommended for staying hydrated during the day. I turned my phone’s flashlight on and retrieved the magazine once more from the drawer in an attempt to distract my thoughts from my bladder for the moment. I buried myself beneath my covers so the light wouldn’t be noticeable from outside in the hallway. I read through each line of the advertisement again and again. At this point, I could recite it from memory, the pictures of the pull-ups and the words used to describe them crystal clear in my mind’s eye. But there was something different about being able to hold it in my hands. It made it tangible. This wasn’t just something I had dreamed up. These pull-ups were real. And soon, they would be mine. I heard some faint noises in the distance and hastily shut off my phone. Mom and Dad were getting ready for bed. I could hear the sink running off in the distance in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. I listened with bated breath as the sounds of them getting ready for bed continued. After a sprinkling of footsteps, their bedroom door clicked shut, and there was silence. As much as I wanted to resume my examination of the magazine, I couldn’t risk getting it ruined in the bedwetting. I carefully put it back in its place in the dresser drawer. I wouldn’t need it anymore once I had actual pull-ups to look at and wear. Would I toss the magazine out, then? Or would I keep it as a memento of the journey that had gotten me to this point? The clock silently struck midnight. I cracked open my door, doing so cautiously in case Chester was in the hallway waiting to come in. To my right was my sister’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The light was off. The same was true of my brother’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway to the left. I couldn’t make out my parent’s bedroom door, which was down to the left on the same side of the hallway as mine, but, as I had predicted, the sound of Dad’s snoring was proof enough that at least one of my parents was still asleep. I’m not sure how my Mom managed. I shut the door and tiptoed back to my bed, sliding beneath the cover and sheets. Unlike last night, my bladder was now aching, giving me clear signals that it was time to go to the toilet. I lay sprawled out under the sheets of the queen-sized bed. I now had to convince my bladder that it was perfectly OK to empty itself in this position instead. I held my breath. There would be no turning back when I did this. No way to hide the wet bed or the questions it would raise for my parents. But if I wasn’t going to do it now, when was I ever going to do it? I strained my bladder, trying to get myself to pee for several minutes. Nothing came out. I hadn’t considered how difficult it was going to be to wet the bed intentionally. My bladder was desperately telling me that it needed to go, but it was like there was some sort of mental block preventing me from going while I was still in bed. I had experienced a similar problem once before. There had been that time I had attempted to create a makeshift diaper out of plastic grocery bags, toilet paper, and duct tape. I had found myself unable to pee into it until I had sat on the toilet. In retrospect, that had been a good thing because the makeshift diaper had ended up leaking heavily into the toilet. I had figured that the problem then had been that I simply hadn’t waited until I was desperate enough to pee. Though, come to think of it, I couldn’t recall a single time that I had ever wet my pants from reaching that point of desperation since being potty trained. That had to be somewhat unusual. I could recall plenty of times when classmates in preschool through elementary had endured the humiliating experience of wetting their pants in class. Then there was Hannah, who had wet her pants during third-grade recess. I felt bad about it now, but we didn’t let her hear the end of it for the rest of the school year. That matter was mostly long forgotten now. Jokes about that situation had long lost their effectiveness. The urge to urinate was now almost painful. I rolled from my back to my stomach. Still couldn’t pee. I shifted to my side. Waited another painful minute. Still couldn’t get my bladder to release. Then I was on my back again. Still nothing. My bed was completely dry. I needed to go so badly now, but my body was telling me the only place it was going to do so was the toilet. I stood up from the bed. This was clearly stupid. A twelve-year-old girl wasn’t supposed to be peeing in her bed. What in the world was I doing? I began to hobble toward the closed door, both hands clutched between my legs. I made it halfway to the bedroom door when the image of the pull-up re-entered my mind. Was I really going to give up this easily after all my plans and preparations? Yes, someday, I would have the freedom to go and purchase those pull-ups for myself. But that would be ages and ages from now. I already knew what three years of waiting felt like. I couldn’t do it again. If not tonight, when was I going to do it? It was the same pattern, over and over again. My pent-up desire was foiled by my unwillingness to follow through when the time came to actually have the ability to put into motion a foolproof plan to get what I wanted. I returned to bed, but I didn’t lie back down. I had a different idea to try to trick my bladder into letting go. I pulled back the covers, so that I was sitting on the sheets in the middle of the bed, where my waist otherwise would have been had I been lying down. If I couldn’t make myself pee while lying down, perhaps I could do so while sitting on my knees. I tried to get in the right headspace to get myself to urinate. I thought of roaring waterfalls, trickling brooks, the pattering of rain outside my bedroom window, my hand reaching out to test the water pouring out from the shower, finding that the water was just the right amount of warmth to step into. Something began to stir in my bladder. The front of my pajama pants was warm and wet, and it was only getting warmer and wetter. It was all I could do to keep my hands from reaching down to the front of my pajamas. No point in getting them wet as well. My intention had been to make only a small accident. Enough that there wasn’t any question about what I had done, but not something super crazy that would be a pain to get cleaned up. I had figured that it would be easy to control how much I peed. I was wrong. There was simply no stopping the warm flow of urine that ran down my legs and onto the bed. Ten seconds passed. Then, twenty seconds. Then, thirty seconds. Then, forty seconds. Then it finally came to a stop. Even in the darkness, I could make out that the wet spot on my mattress was ginormous. It wasn’t so much a spot as it was a massive puddle covering a sizeable portion of the bed. I was past the point of no return. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

I feel like the more a Person dabbles with wearing 24/7, You reach a cross road where it's no longer a choice to wear a diaper instead of regular underwear. It gets to a point where all you want to wear is Diapers, because it becomes all you know. Wearing diapers becomes such a routine wearing regular underwear becomes strange and foreign.

So is that like a house rule set by your wife, what happens if you break it, does your wife ever check your diaper like your mom did back when you were little?

We’ve made it to the end! It’s crazy to think it has taken nearly four years to get to this point, but thank you so much for reading, especially those of you who picked up the story shortly after I started writing it back in 2020. Will have a follow-up post about the sequel in a little bit. Chapter 70: Demarcation What makes someone a big girl? That was the question I wrestled with for the first week of living with Lisa and her family. If the criterion was being able to successfully use the toilet, as those ads on TV liked to remind parents and young kids, then it wasn’t a label I deserved. Yes, I had followed through with my plan of wearing pull-ups during the day. Lisa still had plenty of the extra-absorbent ones in her closet. That extra absorbency was very much needed. I didn’t make a single successful trip to the toilet during my first day with the Higgins. I really was trying, but months of neglect had made my bladder almost impossible to manage. On that first Monday, Mrs. Higgins stayed home with me while Lisa and her uncle went off to school each morning. I mostly stayed in the bedroom and played video games, and she gave me plenty of privacy, checking in once in a while to see if I wanted to come out to get anything to eat or drink. But on Tuesday, it was time to talk with my therapist again. Mrs. Higgins dropped me off at the hospital. I had finally gotten used to that maze of the building and was able to navigate to the therapist’s office, even getting there a few minutes early. We spent a lot of time talking about the ads for pull-ups that would show on TV, with the sing-song catchphrase that would accompany them: “I’m a big kid now.” The therapist told me about how she disliked the way that slogan was used for toilet training, and it was one she had worked hard to avoid using for her three young children. The problem, according to her, was that using shame to get a kid to use a toilet could often work, but if the kid failed to use the toilet for any reason at all, there was the risk of emotional damage with the additional stigma that had been attached to that failure. Being a big kid, the therapist told me, isn’t defined by what type of undergarments someone has on but by the maturity with which they handle themselves and the situations they find themselves in. There were two sides of me that had merged — the need for protection and being treated like a baby. She told me that they didn’t have to coexist. They weren’t two sides of the same coin. Whatever was going on inside my body should have no impact on whether I could resume living a normal teenage life. It wasn’t the first time we’d gone through some variation of that conversation in the past week-and-a-half, but something about it clicked this time around. Later that afternoon, after returning home from the appointment with the therapist. I made it to the toilet successfully for the first time since the day Mom had put me back into diapers. It was a tiny victory, but it told me all hope wasn’t lost for my bladder. That night, for the first time since moving in with Lisa, I didn’t suck on my thumb as I drifted off to sleep. The next day, I got some bad news from the doctor. The test results were in. They’d reached a conclusion about what might be causing my incontinence. Mrs. Higgins took me to the hospital to meet with Jane in person. I allowed her to come to the appointment with me. She had been incredibly helpful with getting additional diapers and pull-ups ordered for me, including several sample packs to see if there were some options Lisa hadn’t used that might fit better on me. It had been one thing to discuss my incontinence with my friends and another to discuss it with medical professionals and therapists, but doing so with a parent figure and having it handled so matter-of-factly in a non-judgmental way was an incredibly comforting contrast to how Mom had spoken to me about my bladder issues. So Mrs. Higgins was seated next to me, holding my hand as Jane provided her prognosis. According to Jane, their best guess was that the hard fall I had taken during cheerleading had done something to mess up my insides, which now weren’t fully wired the way that they were supposed to be. I thought back to the pain of that day and how my body had hurt for weeks afterward. Mom had even seen the massive bruise that had been left on my side. I had talked down the injury, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, that it wasn’t as painful or as bothersome as it had been at the time. And she hadn’t pressed for any further details. At the time, I simply wanted to stick with the cheerleading. I hadn’t wanted to give up a position on the team that I had worked so hard to get as a freshman. Perhaps Mom should have dug deeper into the situation. But I could have said more as well. If I had spoken up, if I had somehow found a way to get checked out by a doctor, could whatever had gone wrong in my body have been fixed then? Was it another one of those bad decisions I’d made as my incontinence began? It had been like this ever since CPS arrived. Every time my mind wandered off to specific scenes with my mom, the feeling that it still had been all my fault was one I had difficulty suppressing. Jane assured me that was not the case. While I should have been brought to the hospital, even if I had come in that very day, I would still be dealing with bladder issues. The far bigger problem was all the mistakes that had been made while attempting to re-train my bladder. The past few months, where I had completely neglected my bladder, were a setback that could take months for me to recover from, so Jane assured me that I shouldn’t be discouraged if I was still having a lot of accidents in the coming weeks. That didn’t mean that I couldn’t work toward gaining control of my bladder again. But it was something I was always going to have to work out constantly. There wasn't ever going to be a point where it was fixed for good. There was some good news. The bloodwork and other tests they’d done had ruled out any more severe causes of incontinence, such as diabetes, cancer, or other diseases with lengthy names I couldn’t pronounce. There wasn’t anything else wrong with me. It was just my bladder. And it wasn’t my fault. --- I sat alone in the bedroom. I had picked out a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants that hid the outline of my pull-up, even if there wasn’t much they could do to fully conceal the noise. Lisa was in the living room, keeping an eye out on the road. Samantha and Desi were going to be here any minute. I wasn’t sure I was ready for them. I was sitting on my bed. Emphasis on mine. Mr. Higgins had removed Lisa’s old bed and replaced it with two smaller ones, so we would each have our own bed on opposite sides of the room. But I wasn’t able to sit still. Eventually, I got up and started pacing back and forth across the room. It was stupid of me to be nervous. I had seen all the texts Samantha and Desi had sent me. Their worry and concern over my well-being. Their joy and excitement at knowing I was OK. Their eager anticipation for the long overdue sleepover that was set to begin any minute. I knew that by tomorrow morning, everything would probably be OK; just like with Lisa, our friendships would settle into a new equilibrium. It was what needed to happen before then that was making me so antsy that I couldn’t stay still. Lisa had strictly adhered to her aunt’s advice over the past week. She hadn’t once pestered me with any questions about what had happened with my mother. She hadn’t once steered our conversation in a direction that would have made me uncomfortable. But just because those questions had gone unasked didn’t mean they were gone from her head. She had to be thinking about it, even if she wasn’t saying it. But I didn’t know what to expect from Samantha and Desi. Surely, the same questions were bouncing around in their heads. And they weren’t bound by Mrs. Higgins’ prohibition on discussing the topic. And really, even if they were, there wasn’t any way the topic of my mom wasn’t going to come up at all. Not when we had plans to basically be spending a day together. So what was I going to say? I thought back to the conversations I’d had with my therapist the past week. I think I knew what I needed to do. I turned around as Lisa came dashing into the bedroom. “They’re here!” I remained standing awkwardly on the other side of the room. “Come on,” she said. “There isn’t any need to hide.” Lisa was right. I walked toward where she was standing at the doorway. She took my hand, and we walked through the hallway and into the living room. I was dreading going through an awkward silence like the one I had been forced to endure when I had arrived at the Higgins’ place last week. But Samantha and Desi didn’t allow there to be any awkward silences. The second they were through the door, both girls sprinted at me, embracing me in a pair of hugs that caused us to fall backward and tumble onto the couch. I looked down at my pants as we lay on the couch. The sweatpants had gotten pulled down a couple of inches, revealing the waistband of the pull-up I had been attempting to keep concealed beneath it. I tugged the pants back into place as Samantha and Des both finally eased off of me. I was pretty certain I’d wet myself in all that madness. “Why don’t you guys bring your stuff over to the bedroom,” Lisa said, motioning for all of us to vacate the living room and get some privacy away from her aunt and uncle. Samantha and Desi took in the newly arranged bedroom in silence. I think the reality of my new circumstances was finally sinking in for them. We settled into sitting on the beds and couches while I got filled in on the latest gossip from school. “What have you been doing all week?” Samantha asked. “Lisa seemed to suggest that you’ve been at home playing video games all day.” I gave Lisa a mock glare. “Thanks a bunch for outing me.” I sat down on my bed. “OK, I did spend a lot of time playing video games, but I did have other things to do, going to the hospital for doctors’ appointments and therapy.” I knew right away that I shouldn’t have mentioned seeing the therapist. “So, what happened with your mom?” Samantha asked. And there it was. The question. They hadn’t even been able to hold it in for a half-hour. I thought back to the answer that I had settled on, one that reflected the realization I had arrived at after what I had discussed with my therapist about being a big girl. I took a deep breath, steadying myself to make sure I gave the answer exactly the way that I wanted to. It wasn’t something that I wanted to have to say more than once. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready to,” Lisa said. She turned to look at Samantha. “Sorry, I should have mentioned that my aunt said not to pester Sarah with questions.” “Hey, It’s OK. I think I know what I want to say.” Not another word was said. All their eyes were on me now. I had my friends’ complete and total attention. “It’s been a really weird six months,” I said, talking slowly, making sure I was following the script I had planned out in my head. I needed to draw a mental line in the sand. On one side was being treated like a baby. On the other side, incontinence. “You remember that time I fell and hurt myself in cheerleading practice? That massive bruise I got?” “Yeah,” Samantha said. “They really didn’t have a good track record with freshman. I mean, Desi broke her leg, too, before you replaced her on the team.” “So that’s kind of why all these things have been happening with my body,” I said. I fidgeted a little, noticing how my pull-up was becoming warmer. “At least that’s what the doctors think. I started wetting the bed again around the same time as the accidents had started happening in the day.” “I still can’t believe I didn’t notice that you were wearing pull-ups then,” Desi said. Was my decision about what to say – and not to say – next the right thing? I’m not who I was before. I couldn’t be who I was before. I was going to draw a clear line of demarcation between events then and now. That was the only way I could see to move forward as a big girl. I had to leave the past behind, cut it off clean and neatly, never to be returned to or re-visited. But I also understood that I couldn’t do that alone. That’s what I needed my friends to understand. I needed them to help me return to some sense of normalcy, not get stuck on what had happened to me. “So, about my mom,” I continued. Lisa was beside me on the bed. She reached out and rested a hand on my leg. “She got arrested. Emilia is now living with her bio-dad in Wisconsin. And I’m living here with Lisa. I don’t want to say anything more about it than that. What I need most is to find a way to return things to normal. I need your help to do that.” It was that last admission that my therapist had encouraged me to understand. If there had been one thing I hadn’t been willing to do much of the past six months, it was to ask for help. That didn’t mean that I couldn’t do it on my own terms, with the boundaries I needed to help me move forward, but I wasn’t going to be able to go through this recovery alone. Lisa’s hand moved from my leg to around my shoulder. Samantha and Desi came over and sat down next to me on the bed. We stayed like that for several minutes with their arms around me. They didn’t say anything. But I didn’t need them to. Epilogue The lives of myself and my friends reversed at the beginning of summer. They were off of school, free to begin their summer vacations. I found myself back in the classroom three days a week. Mr. Higgins was teaching remedial history lessons over the summer, so I had him as one of my teachers for the three courses I was taking to help cover what I had missed in that semester I had been held out from school. I hadn't been forced to try to return to school during the middle of the semester. For one thing, I was having a hard enough time as it was trying to manage my incontinence at home, and with how much I time I had missed, catching up over summer was a far better option. So summer school was the first time in a classroom since Christmas. I understood why Lisa had reverted to diapers when high school had begun for her. I had managed to make some progress with re-training my bladder the past three months, but not so much that a diaper didn't come in handy for getting me through the four-hour days of classes. If I could be back in pull-ups for my sophomore year of high school, I would consider that to be good progress. But there were no classes to attend this Saturday afternoon. The pool in Samantha's backyard was a welcome relief from the summer heat. My two-piece swimsuit felt off, and not for the normal reasons a teenage girl might feel uncomfortable in that type of outfit. The lack of padding between my legs left an absence that was noticeable as I walked around the pool, headed for the deep end. Samantha and Desi were already in the pool as I stepped up to the edge, trying to time my cannon ball jump correctly to splash both of my friends. Samantha turned to look at me from where she was treading water in the deep end. "You're going to come in like that? Aren't you missing something?" "Missing what?" I asked. I got in position to jump. Samantha looked around. It was just us out by the pool for now. Her little brother wasn't in sight. "A swim diaper. What if you pee in the pool? "Don't be silly," I said. "That is what chlorine is for." I launched myself to a spot right between Samantha and Desi, bringing my knees up to my chest to make the biggest splash possible. Neither of them managed to get out of the splash zone. There was a sense of freedom in swimming in the pool. I had been mostly joking about peeing in the water. I'd used the toilet right before changing out of my pull-up and into the swimsuit, so I should be safe for the short amount of time I intended to spend in the water. Lisa had chosen not to join us in the pool. She hadn't ever learned how to swim and was off in a plastic chair a safe distance away, tapping on her phone. There was a hint of cotton fabric peeking out of the top of Lisa's low-rise shorts. She was a completely different person than the shy girl I'd met at the start of the last school year, who wore full-length dresses to obscure the diapers she had on underneath to manage her incontinence. Lisa was wearing underwear for the summer. If she made it through those three months without any accidents, then it would be underwear for school as well. Nighttime was the one time we were still equals, as we lay in beds on the opposite side of the room, each with a diaper secured snugly around our waists. Samantha and Desi both got out of the pool. I should have anticipated what was going to happen next, but it wasn't until they were both in the air aiming for each side of me that I realized that they were out for revenge. We spent the next ten minutes trying to out splash each other with crazier and crazier dives into the water. I rushed back inside to dry off and change the moment I got out of the pool. It would have been one thing to have an accident in the water, but I wasn't going to wet myself on the pool deck. When I returned outside, Samantha and Desi were sunbathing on towels. I took a seat in a chair next to Lisa. Sometimes when I hung out with my friends, I wanted us to all be involved in activities together. But there were also days like today, where their presence alone was enough, a simple reminder that they were here for me. My two CPS case workers, Amanda and Jodie, had continued to check in with me a few times a month. Their latest visit had brought news of Emilia, who they said was adjusting extremely well to her new life in Wisconsin with her dad, stepmother, and step-sister. That was good news. It would be better if she were young enough to allow all of those events to fade from her memory. I sighed. I knew from the dreams I still had that it wasn't going to be that easy for me. Rules and consequences. That was a lesson my mother had never failed to teach me. But rules aren't only for little kids and teenagers who are having difficultly using the toilet. Adults have rules to follow as well, as my mom discovered after she pleaded guilty to numerous offenses related to what she had done to me. It meant her punishment wasn't going to be as strict as if she had held out for a trial. But I told the prosecutor I was OK with that when she asked me for my opinion. A trial would have meant needing to stand in front of a jury, forced to recount the events from the fall to Mom's arrest. I wasn't prepared even to share those details with my closest friends, so a jury was out of the question. Still, I was pleasantly surprised when I found out my mom had been sentenced to ten years in jail, a ruling that also prevented her from ever gaining custody of Emilia once she was released. Just as adults had rules to follow, they had to deal with the consequences as well. As for me, I was free at last from all my mother's rules. --- Links to all of my stories are available at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

That's a pretty good plan. Sometimes a simple outfit is better.

Using that train of thought, I hope that NONE of the 2 million immigrants who walked across the border last year have to go to the hospital here for complications from a surgery in their home country.

Some one asked how talk Avery was, 5ft tall and Darlene is 6'2". Chapter 20 - Wet and Humiliated The entire drive to Target, which was about 15 miles down the freeway on an Interstate, always seemed congested, even when it wasn't around quitting time. She hated the drive but had time to think as she played calming music. As she drove, Darlene played over and over in her head what happened that day. She couldn't believe John's reaction to Avery just because he figured out something John couldn't. Instead of praising him and helping coach him so they could take credit together, John decided his best course of action was to discredit him and scare him into either confessing his guilt or quitting. The vitriol on his face as he stared at Avery made her nervous. She knew better than to see it coming, but she saw the anger and hatred brimming from him like two new volcanoes on an island before a tsunami hit and wiped out everything. She wasn't sure what the endpoint for John was. But she did know that she saw such anger and hatred in John's eyes that she wasn't sure what would happen to him. And Avery didn't even try to defend himself. He cowered, quivered, and resembled a scared little puppy afraid to move. He would have taken all the verbal and possibly physical abuse she imagined showering down on him without fighting back. She couldn't imagine being like that. She never backed down, no matter how hard the fight was, whether it was with other inmates in jail or just life in general. Her personality, her experiences in jail, and her fighting spirit only made her stronger - made her who she was today. What would drive someone to accept such abuse? When she arrived at Target, Darlene took out her iPhone and texted Avery. "I am here; I should be back in about 20 minutes." There was a long pause as she walked in and headed for the men's clothing section. She walked to the sporting clothes section to look for some sweatpants. She found them and started to sort through the many types of clothing racks. Darlene figured he wore a size medium as his waist size was thirty-two from the pants she had taken off him. It didn't take her long to pick out a light gray pair of sweatpants. The sweatpants were light gray and made of material that was not too heavy or thick. They would be comfortable but durable, probably better than the pants Avery had ruined, if she were honest. He didn’t exactly have a great sense of style. As she was walking towards the self-checkout line, she caught a sale on t-shirts. One was a dark brown grayish with The Mandalorian and baby Yoda on it. It was cute but still masculine enough. The T-shirt felt soft and comfortable. The material felt light and airy, not heavy or thick. It was the perfect thickness for the summer heat but not too light for the fall weather. She hadn't seen any of the Mandalorian episodes but knew it was very popular in her department, and what young man doesn't like Star Wars? Besides, Darlene had noticed the shirt he was wearing was wet a little in the front when she was diapering him. He didn't need to stay in a wet t-shirt. She picked up a large T-shirt, thinking it was better to go a little large than a little small. Darlene hoped this might put a smile on his face after the incident. A light chuckle bubbled up from her throat as she was checking out. She would've never expected herself to be doing this today - going to those extreme lengths for someone who didn't directly work under her. However, she knew very well that the personal lives of her employees could affect their work lives, and she did what was necessary to make sure her department thrived. In the past, she had done everything, even delivering meals when someone was under the weather—babysitting for single mothers or those going through divorces, helping with wedding preparations, and more. Now, she could add changing the diapers on a young man and buying him clothes to the list. She texted Avery when she got in her car. "I am heading back. Should be there in 15 minutes." It wasn't long before she even exited the parking lot; she got a text back. "Good, I am ready to get out of here." Initially, Darlene drove on the freeway at a reasonable speed for the time of day, but then, suddenly, everything came to a stop. Her car didn't move for 5 minutes. "Shit, traffic was at a complete standstill." She thought to herself. Then she heard sirens. Police, two ambulances, and a fire truck. "This couldn't be good," she thought to herself. Darlene texted Avery back. "Avery, I am going to be late. I don't know how long this will take. I am at a complete standstill on the freeway. There is no nearby exit. I will be there as soon as possible." What Darlene didn't know was that Avery needed to go to the bathroom again as he drank a whole bottle of water while she was gone. He had been holding it already. He prayed he could wait. He waited 30 minutes after getting the text she was running late before Avery texted back. "How close are you? I need to go to the bathroom. I can still hear people outside your office." The text sounded panicked to Darlene. "I am still at a standstill. I see two helicopters. The crash must be wrong. It is a life flight and some smoke. I am assuming a vehicle caught on fire. I will be there as soon as I can get to the nearest exit when the traffic moves. I am sorry." Avery, on the other side, rolled his eyes. He tried to log on and look for a new book to read or a new video game to play. He did everything to try to take his mind off the need to pee. Another 30 minutes passed. "Are you almost here?" He was almost in tears. He had started pacing back and forth, doing what any mother would call “the potty dance.” "No, Avery, I am sorry. Still haven't moved an inch.." There was a long pause and no reply from Avery. She felt terrible, but she couldn't get around the traffic at all. "Avery, just use your diaper. I don't think you have much choice right now. I am so sorry." Again, there was no response. Avery had never once intentionally peed into a pull-up or diaper. He didn't want this to be his first time, but he really, really needed to go. He was now at the point where he felt he had no choice, and Darlene was no closer. He was desperate for relief, so he stood up and tried to focus on peeing to relieve the painful pressure in his bladder. At first, nothing; his body told him it wasn't right; this wasn’t the toilet. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was standing at a urinal. Slowly, he started to pee into the diaper. A feeling of relief was starting to feel good as he felt his bladder barely starting to relax, and then suddenly, he had a heavy stream of pee as he filled his diaper. He could feel the warmth spread between his crotch as his diaper got heavy and soggy. He felt the diaper begin to swell as he peed more into the diaper than he did when John scared him. His bladder ached in relief as he filled his diaper up and felt the weight of his soggy diaper droop down. He was filled with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. It didn’t matter that he had no choice. It was still a humiliating act. The diaper was so much heavier now he could feel it pulling down from his hips. Once he was done, he had no choice but to stand or sit down. Avery decided to sit down slowly, feeling the warmth of the soggy diaper push against his inner thighs and warmth even ride up towards his back a little. But to his surprise, it did not leak at all. He was relieved of this but ashamed of what he had just done. The worst part was that Darlene was going to see him. He couldn't just run home now in just a diaper. He was just grateful that no one had walked in on him. It was another thirty minutes before Darlene heard back from Avery. "No need to rush." Darlene knew what that meant, and she felt her heart sink a little. She felt sorry for the poor guy. But she also realized he did not have another spare diaper. She really still needed his help moving the furniture to the garage for Goodwill to pick up. Darlene remembered she still had the email where Avery tried to access the website with the diapers and other items. She had time, so she took her personal phone and logged onto the website. She needed to purchase him some more diapers. She saw all the different kinds, many looking like infant diapers with baby or toddler designs but sized for an adult. She just wanted thick white diapers. She scrolled through and found a pack of white diapers that read max absorbency. She added a pack of 12 diapers to her list. Traffic still wasn't moving. Before she checked out, she saw a bunch of cute onesies. She thought about how when she babysat, the onesies help hold the diaper close to the babies. A simple, plain onesie would help Avery hide his diaper during the day. She wasn't sure if they would have such a simple thing, but she searched through the inventory and came across some plain-colored onesies and found a white one. She quickly ordered a large onesie for him, just to make sure it wouldn't be undersized. She wondered what else he might need, and then she remembered his horrible diaper rash. She added DESITIN Daily Defense Cream, which read "forms a protective layer on your baby's skin to soothe and relieve rash discomfort, providing relief from the first use." She quickly added other items to the order: diaper wipes and baby powder. She was afraid he would be upset with her when he saw these items, but he really needed them if he was going to get rid of the diaper rash and prevent it from coming back. As Darlene was checking out, the line was starting to move very slowly. She needed to finish her order. She quickly put her credit card information in, and for delivery, she chose one-hour delivery for an extra $50. High robbery, she thought, but he needed something. The cars in front of her slowly started to move. Before the cars started moving too fast, she texted back to Avery. "I'm finally moving. Don't worry, I still have a plan for us to enjoy the evening." The last forty-five minutes were the longest to be in the office alone, sitting in a wet diaper and shirt. He couldn't even do research on the computer for either work or looking at books to read or video games to play. He felt ashamed of himself even though this wasn't his fault. Suddenly, Avery heard the door begin to unlock. He started to panic and wanted to hide behind something, so he went and sat quickly behind Darlene's desk and scooted up so only his shirt could be seen. He was afraid it might be the janitors for the night to clean Darlene's office. He was quickly relieved when Darlene came in carrying a plastic target bag. "Oh, thank god it is you," Avery said. "Who did you think it was?" Darlene looked at Avery sitting in her seat. She didn't say anything. Usually, she didn't like people sitting in her chair. That was a strange quirk about her. That was her chair and only hers. She was going to let it pass. Avery had too much to deal with today to let her rant about some weird quirk of hers. She just hoped he wasn’t leaking on her office furniture. Darlene placed the target bag down on the desk and got out. "I got you these sweatpants." She pulled them out. "They should fit you pretty well. They feel like they will be really soft and comfortable." Darlene handed them to Avery. He quickly stood up to put on his sweatpants. Darlene couldn't help but notice how much his diaper had swelled and looked full. The blue stripe down the middle was completely gone. He really did have to go, she thought to herself. She tried her best not to show an emotional response to that. Avery picked up that she saw how much he wet his diaper, and it was drooping down a little from the weight of the pee. He quickly slid on the sweatpants. They did fit perfectly—a little too perfect because there was a definite bulge in his pants with the diaper so full. "Oh, I also got you something I hope you will like," Darlene said in a perky voice like she was proud of herself. "I got you this T-shirt to go with your sweatpants." She pulled out a dark brown-grayish Mandalorian T-shirt with baby Yoda. You probably want something else to wear, and I took a wild guess you like Star Wars and the Mandalorian show that everyone talks about here in my department. Avery was shocked; he had mixed emotions. In one way, he felt like she was trying to dress him, which he didn't like; it just added to the humiliation right now. In another way, he was appreciative of all her help. She didn't have to do all this for him. If it were another time, he would be more appreciated. "Thank you, Darlene. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it." Darlene could tell he wasn't super happy about the T-shirt. "Do you not like Star Wars and the Mandalorian?" There was a pause. "Yes, I like Star Wars. Who doesn't? But I have never seen The Mandalorian. I don't have access to Disney and all the shows. I only stream content that is for free and doesn't require a monthly service fee." Avery said. Darlene could see that he was either disappointed he hadn't seen it or embarrassed he didn't pay to stream shows. She sort of forgot he is fresh out of college but would have thought a college student would have found friends to share access with. She didn't want to ask at this point. "Well, maybe we can change that sometime." She walked behind the desk as he was standing, and she started to reach out to take his shirt off, then she stopped herself, reminding herself he was a grown man. Darlene then handed him the T-shirt. "Here, you can put this on, and we can go." As Avery slipped out of his T-shirt, he was aware that it was past 6:00 p.m. He knew he promised he would help Darlene with the furniture tonight, but he needed to get home to change out of his diaper, and the bus had stopped for the night. "I am sorry, Darlene, to ruin the evening, but could you please take me home? I sort of, well, you know, need to address me. I mean, change out of what I am wearing." Darlene knew what he was talking about, but he had no idea that she had already taken care of that. "Look, you don't need to go home. I got you covered for the night. I really do need your help. I have Goodwill coming tomorrow, and my sisters are busy. I have procrastinated too long for moving the furniture down." Avery didn't understand what she had done to have this supposedly taken care of. He thought about it. He could go to her house, toss the diaper, and command style and still be able to help her. "OK, let's hit the road," Avery said a little tentatively.

My husband is the bedwetter and I diaper him every night before bed. He very seldom wakes up in a dry diaper.

Ok, so my history I guess first..I am 50 currently. I was not somewhat reliably dry until a month before my 9th birthday. At that time it was cloth diapers and plastic pants if my grandma was over, my mom used pampers in the purple box, on me until then. I have never been out of diapers my entire life. I was born with a congenital spine and my nerves didn’t run through the spine the same as most people. My day control was lost when I was Sophomore in college at Ohio State. My mom actually would drive up from Cincinnati and bring me a case of Attends at a time. My mom or grandma, did diaper me for the night until the summer before I left for college. I was then taught how to get them on correctly. I was also placed in room with another bedwetter, it was an actual question on the application. Anyways, so I had a back surgery in 2016, it went bad spinal fluid leak for a month they went back in and fixed the 9 tears. Woke up and started having seizures, never had one in my life. In 2020 I had gotten Saddle Anesthesia and wasn’t concerned really as my feet had been numb for years. I love my Motorcycles!, I had a 3 day ride the next day and my surgeon said it is an emergency surgery. I told her it had been like that for 3 weeks, she said I could tear my spinal cord and have no mobility. I told her if that is the case I am riding in the hare scramble ride. I got back Monday morning and that afternoon had surgery. When she got in there she said it was much worse than she could have imagined, even with having MRI’s done. That surgery happened end of February 2020, right before they shut down surgeries. Three weeks later I got COVID really bad, at that time the Dr at hospital didn’t know what to do. I was the 2nd person in our county to get it, anyways if it weren’t for my inhalers, I would’ve been in hospital for sure at least 8 weeks. My wife had symptoms for literally 3 hours..I then developed foot drop, in July of 2021. Another emergency surgery, woke up could not move my left leg at all. My surgeon also told me at that time, she needed to do a major back surgery and I would remain in hospital for a week before she could do it.. Had to do a 5 level fusion and my left leg didn’t move still, could barely move my big toe. I was also diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, my surgeon found lesions on my spine. Anyways was in hospital rehab for over a month and they got me walking with walker and of course using a wheelchair as well. I have zero sensation of when I need to go or even when I am wetting, I do have bowel issues, usually if my belly feels full, I better get on the potty. While I was in the hospital, I couldn’t change, bathe myself due to left leg and the tingling and numbness in left hand. It was at this time being 49 years old I started having, AB/DL feelings. My nightly aide would come in at 11, change me and then return every 2-3 hours. She would take me down to a special tub at times for a bath, one day she brought in a rubber duck and tossed it in the tub and said play with this while I get you clean. I don’t know why but I did play with that rubber duck the entire bath.. When she was done she left the rubber duck on side wall of where the large tub was, I said that people would know, she laughed and said you’re not an adult baby?? I said what is that? She explained it to me and she then questioned well you brought your own diapers which were Megamax and better dry diapers, my wife ordered all of them. It was after many wet beds my wife brought my diapers from home up. I looked up AB/DL after the bath and I, became somewhat intrigued. When she came in to change me before leaving, I told her I read about the AB/DL stuff and she asked, what I thought about it? I said you know, maybe if someone changed my diapers my whole life possibly, I could understood how people become an Adult Baby. She then confided in me that her ex husband was one, but he expected her to treat him as a baby all the time. She said they couldn’t have sex without it being part of it, staying in his diapers breastfeeding or wanting his mommy to give him a pacifier. I told her I actually was a thumb sucker until like 14 years old, but I would wake up doing it and never did it while awake and purposely. My mom actually got some like pepper tasting stuff that she would like coat my thumb with it. I stopped sucking my thumb though. She said now that her ex was long gone, she missed parts of it like bathing and changing Diapers. Now I must say I have a very very small penis which I am very self conscious about. She actually brought it up and said you know it is kind of funny and If this is to much, she said honestly you are the smallest she has ever seen. She said I think that is what made me start having these maternal feelings for you. I told her I don’t think that I could or would be an adult baby. She chuckled as she was cleaning me up and said, hmm as small as it is, it feels like you are hard. I told her I didn’t have feeling down there. She said OMG that is so sad, and she said on more than one occasion. Well over the next week she started doing some of the stuff she had. She brought in a onesie with Superman logo on it a two pack of pacifiers she admitted to buying them along with a tee pee, pee pee or something, she said she didn’t want me peeing on her like I did a nurse after surgery. She said I hope you need a change, I want to see if it will cover it as these are made for baby boys. It did unfortunately fit, I was humiliated beyond belief. She said it is a very Handy thing to have, she asked does your wife change you? I said well when I cannot do it myself and need help. She said she would show it to her when my wife comes after work. She actually told me that while in the 9 hour surgery, that it was delayed by almost an hour because an adult catheter wasn’t working and they had to find a way to get a pediatric size… I said you are lying, she went into the bathroom and said usually adult males use a 14-16 French and they had to find me an 8 French and they had a time getting it in, with the Dr. Worrying about my prostate being irritated or something? Well onto what this was supposed to be about, I have mobility issues and Fine motor skills with hands. I truly cannot untape a MegaMax diaper. My wife of course orders a lot at a time and it was like 15 cases of them delivered every 6 months. I keep forgetting to call and just get the Better Dry or Just the Northshore Supreme. I have an aide that comes daily 2xs a day to help me, change my diapers, showers me 3xs a week and helps me get dressed and OT and PT come once a week usually. I am staying at my moms house, we are having renovations done a zero entry shower like 6’x5’ and a tub like for old people, with the door on it with Jets like a hot tub. Well it has been almost 2.5 months! At least another two weeks to go. We also moved the laundry to old bathroom, laundry room is now my bathroom and we totally re did the kitchen. So now the uncomfortable part. My aide quit, she was so awesome when she gave me a bath, I still had the rubber ducky from the hospital, the onesie the tee pee, pee pee or whatever it is called. She had seen the pacifiers in the drawer and had even asked, if I wanted to use one. She was from the Philippines, well she quit a week ago Monday. I had been trying to change my diaper the first morning, just getting it untaped. I hear a knock on my door it is my Mom and she said: why don’t I help you? I can change you in the morning and then come and change you around lunch time. I was so embarrassed, I didn’t know what to say, I was soaked. I was leaking onto my bed pad even with plastic pants on. I finally relented and said ok, I need help, she got the wipes, powder and a diaper with a booster pad. She said I should probably use the extra absorbency. She untaped me and stared at my tiny penis, she just looked and then got the wipes and was cleaning me up. Mom then was wiping my privates and she said please tell me that you are not hard. I told her I don’t know if I was hard because I don’t feel it. She said well you definitely are and she saw the tee pee thing and said reached for it and went to cover me and I started peeing. This time it was on myself and all the way up to my chest. It just kept going and going and I am trying to stop the stream with my hands. My mom finally just put a diaper over my penis. Mom then began the whole process of cleaning me up again. She had me on my side to clean my bottom. I got on my back again and she said it is still hard, not sure why it was and then it happened she looked down and she said oh lord, and there was cum leaking out of my penis! I was utterly embarrassed as you can imagine, she was as well and she started cleaning it up and then apologized. Mom said your diaper leaked through your plastic pants, you then peed all over yourself and then I made you have an orgasm…. I told her again I don’t feel anything, whether I am wetting or if anyone would even have sex and then she laughed and said well, I don’t see how that could be possible. I said what? She said honey, it really is the smallest one I have ever seen and she said, I think we should go to a Urologist to find out why it is so small and why you came. I can’t believe how much pee can come out of little ________. She said you seriously wet for at least a minute or longer! It has to be like a half gallon and this dirty diaper must weigh 5 lbs. Mom then said she is calling the agency and begging for someone else to be able to come out. She said I don’t mind changing your diapers, help with bathing and helping you dress. She said the issue where you had an orgasm, is what is hard to be ok with happening. Well this morning, I woke up soaked again. My mom knocked and asked do I need help? I said yes please. she said don’t be embarrassed or mad. I was super embarrassed, as my mom hired a nurse that lived across the street and she was aware of everything. The nurse Katie took down my plastic pants and was amazed at the weight of the diaper. She began cleaning me up and I began wetting heavily all over myself again. Katie actually laughed and let me pee all over myself and then was staring at my penis. My mother was pretty upset, she let me pee all over myself. Katie said that it will be an issue if I continue to pee like that and then be sexually excited. I told her that I was not actually sexually excited, I apologized and asked if truly I didn’t feel it. I assured her it was not a sexual feeling. For all week Katie changed, bathed and helped me dress. Each day I was still peeing all over, or I had an orgasm it seemed occurred. My Mom does change me in between Katie’s visiting. My mom yesterday finally said, I am just going to say it, when I was diapering you the summer before college, your penis was 5xs the size of it is now…. She said with all my health issues, she said it embarrasses her that people are changing you and seeing it. I said, I have no dignity left and I can’t use it, then why do I care anymore. Mom truly didn’t believe me I couldn’t feel it. While changing me, she was actually using her finger and thumb and jerking me off. I couldn’t feel it, so I acted like I didn’t see it. Apparently I then ejaculated right after she stopped doing it and was using baby wipes cleaning my area down there. She said I don’t know if you felt what I was doing and please don’t judge me if you did. You orgasmed though so I think you do feel it and get off on me your mother changing your diapers and stuff. She said your penis is always hard even though it is like 2”. I truly do not have any feeling down there. I am just really humiliated and hurt that she thinks what she does.

I recently posted something on Reddit about how NS is in danger of losing the ABDL market. Megamax is a great product but it’s got stiff competition and the entire rest of their product line is overpriced and outmatched by the competition. They don’t offer a hybrid product, and they haven’t made any major improvements to their diapers in years. Plus even though it’s a psychological thing, every major ABDL manufacturer either offers free shipping, or the minimum qualifying purchase is a case or less. With NS, not even a case of Megamax, their premium product qualifies for free shipping. I got slammed with lots of people replying NS isn’t an ABDL brand, as if I didn’t know that. Gotta love Reddit! What people may not realize is that ABDLs make up a sizable portion of their consumer base, even if they’re target consumer. Not only that but their target audience is young active people with incontinence. And young active people are tech savvy and price conscious and nothing stops them from buying plain diapers from ABDL sites or even from Amazon.

Chapter Two "Gracious, I could smell you coming from halfway down the hall." That was just what Aya needed: Nurse April was on duty. Nurse April was a buxom woman with a thick Irish accent, and she didn’t really filter what she said out loud. She wore scrubs, like all the other nurses, but hers were flowery. Also like all the other nurses, she was very good at diaper changes. However, while Nurse March or Nurse August had reassuring and sweet changing-table-side-manner, Nurse April spoke her mind to a fault. "Well c’mon now, up onto the table before your diaper decides to teach you a lesson in physics, darlin’." Aya pouted and climbed up onto the changing table in the nurse's office. She leaned awkwardly on her hip until Nurse April pulled on her ankles and sat Aya squarely on her messy bottom. A shiver ran up Aya's spine and a heat filled her cheeks. Before lying down, Aya - in a last ditch effort - tapped her Silence pacifier at the nurse. Maybe she would help. "I s’pose you’ve been a good girl with me so far," Nurse April said, taking the pacifier out of the girl’s mouth and setting it aside. There wasn’t time for gratitude before the nurse untaped the diaper around Aya’s waist; Aya didn’t say a word, but her burning cheeks spoke loudly enough. Though Aya was used to using her diapers, having a staff member change her one was still something that embarrassed her, and doubly so with a mushy tush. But Nurse April had called her ‘good’, just in passing. Though Aya hadn’t earned it, the warm words soothed her all the same. Aya didn’t say anything as the nurse wiped her most intimate parts. She didn't say anything as the nurse cleaned up the most humiliating consequence of her time at the Academy. She didn't say anything as the nurse powdered her and taped her into a fresh diaper, which was so ordinary to Aya that it almost wasn't noteworthy anymore. And when she was done, the nurse sat Aya up and handed her the pacifier. Aya put the binky back in her pocket for the next time a teacher gave the order. "Thank you, Nurse April," Aya said, hoping to elicit a kindness or two. She felt so empty today. Two classes and not a single sticker. She felt like a thirsty child in a desert. "You're most welcome, my stinky little kitten. Let's get you a sticker, hmm?" Ordinarily, Aya would have screwed up her nose when Nurse April gave a backhanded nickname or affectionism like that, but the idea of getting a sticker - any sticker after the morning she'd had - meant more than anything in that moment. Aya would have begged Nurse April to humiliate her over and over if that was what it took. But Aya had done nothing to earn a sticker, and she knew it. Nurse April handed her the sticker - a blue one, which wasn't even the right color! - and Aya sulked. She looked down at the shiny star with inner turmoil. But questioning the staff was wrong... no matter what they said, it was always wrong to disobey. So Aya thanked Nurse April and left the office in disquieted uncertainty. By the time she made it to her third class, they were already starting the assignments. The teacher - Miss Hunnigan - was a bit of an airhead. Sometimes it was hard not to correct her in class, but Aya had grown patient with her. Unfortunately, it meant she would often leave worksheets in the teacher's lounge or the printing area and take off in the middle of class. This period was no exception. "Quite a show," Emily teased from the back row. Aya huffed and looked back at her, but it was Summer who spoke. "Because you don't fill your diapers every day with that stupid bright smile of yours?" Emily looked away in embarrassment, but Summer wasn't the type to back down. She put on her best Emily voice and did an impersonation. "Oh gosh golly Ms. Marten, you wan' me to mush my tushy in front of everybody and squirm in it like a little piggy? Otay then!" "Can't we be civil?" Kit asked, sulking at his desk. "It's not like we don't all do it..." "It was kinda funny," Ashie giggled. "And you farted too!" "So do you," Alex smirked. "You let out those little toots like a train before you do it." "Oh. My. Gosh." Ashie glared at Alex with the intensity of a thousand suns. "It's better than all that grunting you do!" "I can't help it," Alex defended. "It's not easy for me to poop my diapers; maybe I'm just not as much of a baby as the rest of you." "Shut up," Summer spoke with enough confidence to end the conversation. "We aren't babies. None of us. We're... doing what we need to get by." Emily and Aya exchanged a look and both of them sighed. It was always harder for the two of them: they wanted so desperately to earn those stickers, but they each had their own motivations. "I'm happy for..." Aya paused to correct herself. "I'm proud of you for getting your stickers today, Emily." Praise from another student never felt the same as praise from the staff, but it was a nice feeling all the same. Everyone at the Academy had their differences. Aya had a lot of civility; she didn’t want to make enemies or stand out for the wrong reasons. Emily always had to be the best at everything. Summer wasn’t afraid of anything and always encouraged other people; she was almost maternal if you could call a girl in diapers maternal. Ashie was quick to jump into any situation; she was always the first with her hand up, whether she knew the answer or not. Kit just wanted to keep his head down, and Alex was determined that he could still wear diapers and call himself a big kid. But despite the differences between Aya and her classmates, they shared the same goal, the same goal they shared with every student of the Academy: they wanted to go home. Going home meant proving themselves, and that meant getting stickers. Miss Hunnigan came back a few minutes later and the students returned to their lesson. History was always the hardest, because it seemed like a memorization of facts and dates rather than using logical reasoning. Aya knew a few of the teacher’s details were wrong, but she didn't say anything. She kept waiting for questions so she could answer them, so she could participate, but Miss Hunnigan only seemed to ask things Aya wasn't completely confident about. And unlike Ashie, Aya was too fragile to risk a guess. By the end of the hour, Miss Hunnigan gave out stickers to Emily - who had been called in front of the class to wet her diaper - and Alex - who had always been good at history. Once again, Aya didn't get any. Neither did Summer, and Aya could see the conflict in her eyes. Despite her self-assuredness, Summer wanted to do well. Everyone did. Word of Aya’s messing incident had gotten around; rumors always spread fast around the Academy. A lot of students didn’t care, but a couple boys walked past Aya in the hall, pulled down their shorts to moon the seat of their diapers, and made farting sounds with their tongues. Summer shouted at them: "I'm gonna tell Ms. Martens!" They ran away laughing. A few months ago, Summer would have chased them or thrown her backpack, but she had learned her lesson. Violence between students was strictly prohibited. "It's okay," Aya said to her best friend and forced a smile. It would pass. Better to be thought of as a pants-filler than a bad girl. "Wanna do lunch outside today? It's sunny." "Absolutely!" Summer smiled back. Lunch was after third period. All the students from all the classes had lunch at the same time, and it was a good time to catch up with friends in other classes. The Academy had maybe sixty or so students in all, not nearly enough for the massive campus. It must have been an old middle school or something. Why the Academy had repurposed it was anybody's guess. Having lunch outside was a mixed bag, but on sunny days like today it was lovely. The leaves in the trees rustled in the wind, and the air smelled of salt and water. Sometimes birds would fly overhead, and if you listened really carefully you might be able to hear the sound of faraway waves. Most importantly to Summer though, outside was scientifically the least embarrassing place to poop her pants.

Plastic pants are only meant to act as a barrier between a wet diaper and the "outside." If a diaper becomes saturated, plastic pants can and will leak--especially around the leg openings where the elastic will wick moisture to the outside. Some plastic pants work better than others, but I assume with use, they will all leak eventually.

I usually wear plastic pants over my nappies

Scene #16 I regret nothing. Totally worth it. So totally worth the spanking I just got and the one I’m gonna get when I get home. I snapped, and it was so worth it. Video games probably result in a statistically significant share of the world’s spankings. Not that I ever got spanked for it growing up, but I got in trouble for swearing at the TV while playing (you should’ve heard my grandma swearing at the TV during baseball season - holy shit), and for fighting with my brother and sister over whose turn it was. Standard stuff. I think part of my mother’s impatience with the thing was just that she had an outdated view of video games in general. If she really believed a word she said when she was chasing me outta the house to go play, then she must still be wondering why my brain hasn’t melted. As opposed to classic board games with their compelling narrative arcs (“Sorry!” Really? Why don’t I play the board game “Sorry!”?). She never minded us playing those (I will admit Battleship has a certain degree of drama if you use your imagination - those poor souls.) And she just didn’t understand how I could like video games. Give her a break because it was a long time ago and video games at home were still kinda new, but to her they were boys’ toys. I had my share of Barbies (nothing happens when you bump Barbie up against Ken, but when you bump Barbie up against your other Barbie, you can kinda see how that would work in real life), so I wasn’t a tiny lesbian stereotype playing in dirt all the time and dressing as He-man for Halloween or anything. She’d ask what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday, and I’d say a video game, among other things, and she’d say, “How can you like those,” but one would show up under the tree for me anyway. Still, by the time I was fourteen, I wanted to say, I just do, every time she asked me how I could like video games, which is honestly the one hundred percent simple answer. By the time I was sixteen, I was ready to say, Guess what else I like! And then I did when I was 17. Not in the context of video games, but in the context of the world’s most overdue and awkward “talk” anyone’s ever tried to have. I’d been thinking about coming out for a while, and it seemed like the right time, plus I wanted the hell out of that conversation. I guess they kept waiting until I brought a boy around, and then decided they had to have the talk before I got any older. Mom, looking like she studied early 1990s after school specials and YouTube videos on tone and body language for this occasion: “Honey, you’ve been a woman for some time now, and it’s time we talk about birth control.” Dad, looking like he’d agreed to not shoot boys on sight only to make Mom happy: “Just ... Jesus Christ almighty.” And then he put his head in his hands. Me: “Can we not have this conversation if I tell you I’m a lesbian?” Awkward pause. “Good news for all of us then.” Two hours later, after I’m done giving the talk to them, the last question my dad has is, “Is ‘lesbian’ spelled with a capitol L?” “Yes, Dad. It’s a proper noun, like the Dodgers.” Went right over his head. I’m almost positive he would capitalize it if he ever had a reason to write the word. Anyway, it started out as a normal day. Actually, there’s nothing abnormal about me getting spanked, so it was a normal day all day. I met my friend Jane to go shopping. Just plain vanilla shopping. Jane is a little and her wife slash big is Lisa. Lisa is on Mary’s “May Spank Daphne” list, and Mary has put Jane over her knee when she needed it. Jane isn’t a spanko like me and Mary. She’s just a little, and getting spanked happens to naughty littles. Sometimes she tries to get one, but more often she just brats because she loves being a brat and then she finds herself in the corner wondering exactly where she crossed the line. I think I told you about the party we went to that ended with Jane goading me into snapping at her, and then Mary spanked the crap outta me and played the gentlest game of patty cake ever on Jane’s butt because she’s “just a little girl.” She’s thirty-freakin-three. We finished our shopping trip, and went back to her house, where Lisa had lunch waiting for us. I don’t know when Mary and I crossed the line from domestic discipline to ageplay. I’m not even sure if we have, but Lisa has treated me like a middle ever since Mary blessed her with spanking privileges. I don’t mind. It’s endearing and not really noticeable, usually. Jane transformed from little-pretending-to-be-an-adult to very-tall-kindergartner the moment we got inside, and five minutes later, there was a glass of milk and a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich in front of me; Jane’s sandwich was in the shape of a kitty, sort of, and I assured Lisa she didn’t need to cut the crusts off mine. She may think of me as a middle, but I have a grown up palate. I’m probably not alone when I say that somehow peanut butter and jelly goes great with Cheetos and I wanna know why. Really, a very grown up palate. Grown up enough to know that PB&J is just three different forms of sugar, which is why virtually everyone likes it so much. I thanked Lisa, and I even offered to wash the plates, but she showed me out of the kitchen with a pat on my butt and I cringed because no way she didn’t feel the pull-up Mary had me wear for the day. Jane and I sat down to play some video games in the living room. I don’t know how she and Lisa divvy up household responsibilities or if cleaning while Jane plays just makes Lisa feel even more like a mommy, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jane clean anything, ever. Anyhoo, Jane and I like some of the same games (yes, adults play video games, to all you boomers out there with your cable news and your questions about which remote does what). I’m more than happy to play her little games - it’s fun to play with littles, to a point; they just get so happy at small stuff - and we did. I’m not sure what my little pony’s name was, but we played, and then we switched to a game both of us like. I don’t know if Jane got bratty because she was losing or just because she has fun bratting. I do know that beating the pants off someone at a video game is fun as hell. Used to beat my brothers, used to beat my friends when I could convince them to play, and used to beat my dad when he’d try video games just to spend time with me; golden memories. Three different skill levels, and the worse they were at it, the more fun it was for me in a sadistic sorta way. Maybe Jane figured if she couldn’t beat me at being mean on screen, she could beat me at being mean off screen “This is stupid. All your games are stupid,” she said, and I didn’t point out that this was her game, literally. I will admit to not exactly responding in the most mature way. You can’t enjoy all the pleasures schadenfreude has to offer if you’re mature about it. It’s like sex: it’s not all about the orgasm, but ya get lot more outta the experience with it than without it (if you take your time). So perhaps, “The game’s not stupid. You just suck at it,” wasn’t the most clever response, but all in good fun. At first. “You’re stupid.” Littles are so clever. “I know you are but what am it.” I’m not proud. “Stupid.” Touché. Lisa heard our witty banter and called out from the kitchen, “If you can’t play nice, I’m gonna take it away.” “Sorry,” we said in unison. It’s funny how when Jane is being bratty and she gets frustrated, her little age goes from about five to middle-school mean-girl. “You’re cheating,” she accused me, which I wasn’t. Not even sure how a person could cheat at that game. “I am not. You just never play against anybody who’s good.” “You can be such a bitch sometimes.” I hit pause. Part of our job sometimes is to watch out for littles. “What will happen if your mommy hears you say that?” Jane is a cutey. I don’t know if she does it on purpose or if it’s natural to her, but she makes the most ridiculous sad faces. “Wash my mouth out and give me a spankin’.” I don’t know how she just loses her Gs like that. Littles are weird animals. “I won’t tell her, but you need to use nice words.” “Sorry. I’ll be nice.” See? I can be the more mature person when necessary, and I can play along with bratting littles, and I can even enjoy it. We went back to playing, and in a best-of-five game, I scored four points and then let her get three I did a pretty good job of making it seem like I wasn’t throwing the game. Now she was having a blast. I might have even let her win (probably not). She got cocky. The game went from stupid to “You suck at this” and “You’re not so happy now, are ya” and I just kept my smile to myself. I could’ve won at any point. I let her get her fourth point, and I’ll admit that I was kinda letting her get close because it would make it that much more fun when I took my fifth (not really kinda; that’s exactly what I was doing) but she was having so much fun I was wavering. Sometimes ya gotta throw a game; it’s nice, and it’s also crucial if you ever want that person to play with you again. Then she sealed her fate. Never do a victory dance until you’re the victor. Part of our job is teaching littles, and that’s the lesson I taught her. Pow. Game over. So sorry. Maybe next time. Probably not though. I don’t know where Lisa was. Upstairs or outside, because she didn’t hear (1) Jane’s controller bounce off the floor or (2), “I hate those game and you suck and you are too a crap head!” So maybe I deserved that. I set a trap, and she walked into it, and it was fun for me, and not fun for her. Or it was briefly, but when you get so close and lose, it takes away the fun. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her little outburst though, which in her headspace apparently pissed her off something mighty, and nothing I could say could calm her down. “It’s okay.” She may have believed that, but it didn’t change her opinion of me as a crap head, apparently. “It doesn’t matter who’s better at the game.” I didn’t believe that - ha! “I least I don’t wear pull-ups.” Gee, thanks a lot, Mary, both for making me wear them and for letting word get around. “Jane, that’s not nice.” Calming down pissed off littles (and kids younger than 10) lesion #1: if you show them they found a weak spot, they find a stick and start poking at it. “Jane...” “Pull-up pull-up pull-up!” “Honey...” “Pull-up face!” “I’m gonna count to three ...” Jane slipped into her headspace when she walked through the door. When did I slip into my headspace and start responding to her like she really is five and I’m, I don’t know, her big sister or babysitter or something, who knows? Nothing happens after three. Well, normally. When Mary counts to three, woe unto my ass if I don’t take heed. “Diaper butt!” I swatted the outside of her thigh. I would never in a million years hit a child, but she’s not a child. She’s a little. A very long time ago, she told me if she was in her headspace, that’s how she wanted me to treat her, like a little, if I was comfortable with it. I gave her that swat without a second thought. She stopped, looked at me kinda funny, and practically screamed, “DIAPER BUTT!!!” Welp, I promised her one day I’d spank her for real, and I told myself it would be worth it. I don’t know what constitutes a spanking between her and Lisa. Probably more than what Mary gave her at that party (like, six spanks; I get twice that in ad hoc smacks just walking through the living room over the course of a week). I tipped her over, yanked up her skirt, gave her a mother of a wedgie, and started spanking that butt. I don’t even remember the last time before that that I gave a spanking. Shoot, it may have been to myself. But you don’t forget how. You may forget in the moment that Lisa is there, though. I like to think I got in fifty hard and fast ones before Lisa stopped me; it was probably just twenty-five. Between the smacking sound and Jane squealing, I didn’t even hear Lisa until she grabbed my wrist. “Daphne Ann!” I’m pretty sure Mary has inadvertently taught almost everybody we know what my middle name is. Lisa had Jane in her arms like a mama bear protecting her cub, and suddenly I was on the defensive. I was no longer the “oldest” person in the room. Can’t exactly say I was sorry though. It’s hard to tell the difference between tears and crocodile tears when they’re coming from a little. I had my suspicions. “What on earth is going on in here?” Poor little Jane retreated back to her I’m-so-traumatized-I-can’t-speak-and-need-my-mommy routine. “She was throwing a tantrum,” I defended myself. “I was just pushing her reset button.” Mary uses that term with me. My butt: a behavioral reset button. “Who does the spanking in this house?” Jane magically recovered her powers of speech. “Mommy!” “That’s right.” “But,” I tried to think of something else relative mature sounding, but instead I said, “she was making fun of me.” So I started out as trying to justify myself by playing the reasonable adult who unfortunately had to give the little a spank on her reset button, and then I kicked the shit out of the stool holding up that (weak) argument and made myself the middle who got angry because the little was making fun of her. Also something I’m not proud of, but I’d still do it again. “It that true,” she asked Jane. “All I said was she wears pull-ups and she does!” “She called me diaper butt!” I’m pathetic. I admit this and am still glad I spanked her. “She is,” Jane said again. “Diaper butt!” Lisa sort of sighed. It seemed like a very genuine mommy sigh. She led Jane to a corner and told her to stay there. My satisfaction was brief. I sat there and didn’t anticipate the ear grab (fucking ow!) and then I was in the other corner. “You two stay where you are.” I let out a very genuine Daphne sigh. In the corner again. Woopty doo. “Don’t turn around until I tell you,” Lisa said. Yeah yeah. Like I don’t know the rules of corner time. Probably beat the pants off of Jane at corner time, too. At least I didn’t have to go first. I stood in my corner and smiled because finally Jane was going to get the spanking she deserved. I just listened while Lisa lectured. “You know better than to name call. We do not say mean things, do we?” “But ...” “Do we?” You tell her, Lisa! “No.” Great big sniffles. Is the little girl scared of her spanking? Well, too bad. “And we don’t make fun. We especially do not make fun of people because they’re not ready to stay dry. Everybody grows at their own pace.” Low blow, Lisa. Low fucking blow. “And you have your share of accidents, so you especially shouldn’t be making fun of Daphne because she needs pull-ups.” That’s a fun bit of information. Mental note to follow up on that later. “I may put you back in pull-ups if you start having accidents again. We do not make fun in this house. Do you understand?” “Yes,” Jane said in the most pathetic voice. Any other day, I’d rush to comfort her. Not that day. “Mommy is going to pull your undies down and spank your bottom.” Jane squeaked, and I figured that was her panties coming down. I probably gave her a worse wedgie than spanking. And finally, FINALLY, I got to see (hear) Jane get her comeuppance for the years of bratting iI endured. Good friend or not, I was ready for this a long time ago. Mary may have held back because Jane wasn’t hers, but now the piper would be paid. I hoped Lisa left and got the hairbrush. That would be sweet. I heard the skin on skin first spank. Warm up with the hand, then straight to the brush. Classic. Two. Three. Four. Five. Jane was whimpering. Here we go! “Now, you stand in the corner while I tend to Ms. Big Britches here.” MOTHERFUCKER! THERE IS NO JUSTICE IN THE WORLD!!! ARRGGGH!!!! Lisa had me by the ear again before Jane even shuffled to the corner. At least it would just be a hand spanking. Nope. She did go get a hairbrush, and, worse, a bar stool. I hate - HATE - being turned over a knee on a bar stool. I won’t even sit in one at a bar. I feel ridiculous with my feet just dangling there and trying to scoot the thing close enough to actually reach the bar. Being spanked over one means my feet and hands are just hanging in the air. Nothing makes me feel more like a little girl than dangling there while I get my butt spanked. Now, the four of us have known each other a while. Lisa knows I enjoy erotic humiliation. I didn’t know she was actually good at it. I don’t even know if she was trying to be good at it. I just stood there and felt that strange, but fun, feeling of my brain pulling in opposite directions, hating and loving every second (probably more like 70/30). And also probably making my situation worse by rolling my eyes and sighing like a pouty teenager, but ya know what, I had just found out there was no justice in the world. That’s a pretty damn good reason to be pouty. Down came my skirt. I stepped out. Old hat for me. “Are you dry?” She didn’t wait for me to answer (good, because my mind was blank; how do you even respond to that?) and put her hand on the front of it and around the back. “All dry. Good for you, Daphne. I’m sure you won’t need these much longer.” There wasn’t the faintest hint of sarcasm in her voice. Was she in her ageplay headspace, or is she just a natural at this? She’s so good I still don’t know what she thinks the pull-ups are for or what I do in them. I want to clarify that with her, but also really, really don’t ever wanna talk about it with anyone. “Look at me.” I lifted my chin to look her mostly in the eye. “Honey, I know it must be so hard having to go back to pull-ups at your age. It must be so frustrating, and of course you’re embarrassed. It’s not your fault, and I hope you know that your mommy and me...” Excuse me? My what? She must be talking about a sixty-year-old woman named Beth because Mary is not my mommy. “... know that. We don’t blame you. You’ll be ready when you’re ready, and we’re all going to help you. It was very wrong of Jane to make fun of you, and I’m very sorry she did that. Do you understand all that, honey?” “Um, yes?” Well, not really, but okay. Anything to speed this up. “But it was even more wrong of you to spank her for it. You do not give the spankings in this house. In fact, Daphne doesn’t give anyone spankings anywhere, does she?” At least I knew the answer to that one. “No.” “If Jane is misbehaving, you tell me or your mommy or another adult ...” I’m just a middle around here, apparently. “... and we’ll take care of it. Now I have to give you spanking for what you did. I’m going to pull down your pull-up and put you over my knee and spank your bottom. Do you understand?” I just nodded. And rolled my eyes. Do we really need the production? I’m not a little. I don’t need it explained to me, I don’t need a pep talk about a non-existent potty - bladder! I meant bladder - problem, and could we skip to good part? Or mostly good part? “Do you need to go potty before your spanking?” Don’t ask me. I just work here. Maybe I could get a job at the post office. I guess Lisa took my not-immediate as a maybe. “Let’s go try.” She had me by my upper arm, and I was speechless, not my usual condition. I wasn’t surprised by the talk about the pull-up but this was out of left field. She was taking me to the bathroom. To pee. Mary takes me to bathrooms all the time, to spank me. Suddenly that didn’t seem so embarrassing. Yet I walked along side her and never even gave a thought to saying “red light.” It never even crossed my mind. I can’t remember the last time I said it. “I’ll wait out here,” she said and nudged me, and there I was in the bathroom. I have no idea who was in the mirror. Daphne, kinky minx, or a middle with potty problems? Yes? I did pee (why not? I was there.) and washed my hands and (heaven help me) pulled the pull-up back on, and there was Lisa waiting for me when I opened the door. “Um, I peed.” “I heard! Good for you.” I prayed for a sinkhole to swallow the house. I was blushing so hard I think the top of my head was red. “But we still have this spanking to take care of.” Back we went to the living room, where I could tell from the back of her head that Jane was laughing at me, and while I was contemplating some devastating comeback, Lisa whisked the pull-up to my feet. Damn near gave myself whiplash turning from Jane to my ankles. “Step out.” I did, and then - I swear, Lisa was either a mile deep in headspace or just is a natural at humiliation or else is just a natural mommy who does see me as truly a middle - she held the thing up and looked inside. It was perplexing (who does that?) until she said, “Good job wiping.” Forget sinkholes swallowing me. Just murder me. Murder me dead. “Do you have any questions before I spank?” “Yeah. Since you’re gonna spank me anyway, can I finish spanking the brat?” What is it with people who are just about to give a spanking? Do they have no sense of humor? That was funny! No outward sign she thought so. And it was a legitimate question! If I was gonna do t he time anyway, at least let me finish the crime! She sat, said “Over”, and there I was, naked below the waist, hand and feet dangling, with that friggin pull-up a foot in front my face, just perfect there for me to look at, and Lisa gave me the spanking some may feel I deserved. I am not among those. She didn’t spank me like Mary would, but she spanked me like she was spanking a spanko, not a little. I don’t know, maybe that’s the spanking she would give any naughty middle. Not like I haven’t had worse, but I came off her lap (really, was eased off her lap so I wouldn’t fall off the stool) with a red behind. I didn’t give Jane the satisfaction of so much as an eep from me, and Lisa didn’t get to see me do the spanky dance. I got a hug, she patted and squeezed my butt, and she picked up that Goodnite and put it back on me. Notable not my skirt. “Jane, come here. What do you have to say to each other?” I tried to go first, but Jane beat me to it. Stealing my thunder. And she did it on purpose, too, because what she said was, “I’m sorry I made fun of your diaper.” Gotta give her credit for being good at bratting. Like, a world champ gold medalist wins all the sports dishes good at it. I’m good, but I can admit when I’m beaten. I win video games. She wins bratting. “I’m sorry I spanked you ... and it’s a pull-up, not a diaper.” Someone’s gotta stick up for Daphne, and I guess that person was Daphne that day. “Hug and make up.” We did. “I’m going to get my keys, and I’ll drive you home.” Really wishing Jane hadn’t picked me up, not that it would make any difference to my butt, but a little less embarrassing. Could’ve stopped and gotten Mary some flowers. Or seen a couple movies. Star Wars marathon, perhaps. And just to rub it in, because she knew the answer, Jane asked, “Is your mommy gonna give you another spanking when you get home?” That’s the rule: spanked by someone other than Mary away from home, get another spanking when I get home. “Yes. And she’s not my mommy. She’s my wife.” Because I am an adult. I am. Really! One day I really am gonna spank Jane, a real one. Some time when her mommy isn’t around to save her. I regret nothing!