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!

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.

Hi all, I've been writing all my life, but always in my native language Dutch. I wanted to see if I could also write in English. So... I just started writing. And this is the result. It is basically a brain dump, so I never re-read it. Please let me know if you like it. Tips and tricks are welcome. And highly appreciated. Chapter 1 – She is here! “You know she is here, right?” The fifty year old man looked at me with a concerned look on his face. Bob was my colleague. He was my boss actually, and ‘she’ was an intern. She was 25 years younger than me and turned a few some months ago. I smiled and nodded and continued with the preparations for some hot snacks. I would fire up the barbecue in a few hours, but until then I didn’t want my colleagues to get hungry. “You know?” He was surprised. “Yes, I saw her ten minutes ago, through the front window, sneaking into my garden.” “And?” “And what?” “You are going to do nothing?” “You think she would leave if I asked nicely?” I answered with a new question. Bob looked at me for a moment and then started to laugh. He shook his head. “No, I don’t think she would leave.” “Then there is no point in asking, or telling, her to leave.” I concluded. “If I went to the garden and told her that she isn’t welcome here and that she needs to leave, then she would cause a scene and ruin the mood.” “So? You let her stay?” He asked. “I’m going to give her a choice: leave or stay. But if she wants to stay, it’ll be on my conditions. And I’m not sure she is going to like the conditions.” I smiled. Bob shook his head. I think he misread my intentions, but he would see for himself what I was planning to do. I didn’t think she was going to leave, but I also knew she wouldn’t accept my conditions without a fight. It was a bit of catch-22 situation, but I was sure the end result would be satisfying for both of us, in the end. I only had to convince her of it. “You know, I do feel sorry for her.” I said. I presented the plate with the snacks to Bob and let him try one. He tasted and nodded an approval. “You feel sorry for her? Why is that? She is the one who is crazy. Totally nuts.” “I know.” I knew a bit more about her tan Bob did. “She didn’t have a normal childhood, and yes, she does have some issues. I helped her get this internship. Now she has a crush on me, and thinks I love her because I helped her.” “Crush? This isn’t a crush anymore. She is hopelessly in love, and she stalks you. You need to do something about that.” “Oh, I will. I certainly will.” I said. “She is so talented, but a bit screwed up inside her head.” “That she is. That she is indeed!” Bob laughed approvingly. Chapter 2 – First step I found ‘her’ in the garden. Emma was talking to two of my female colleagues, and from a distance I saw that they didn’t want her around but were too polite to just turn their backs on her. I could see the annoyed faces of my colleagues, but Emma didn’t notice that. She just didn’t have an antenna for that kind of thing. Or maybe she had, but choose to ignore it. I walked towards them and Emma noticed me. She smiled immediately, but only for a second. Then she realized the situation and that she wasn’t welcome here. She must have been afraid of me being mad at her. Her expression changed, but that also lasted only a second. Then she smiled again. She tried to be calm and confident, but I knew she wasn’t. Emma was small and her high heels didn’t compensate fully. Her small skirt, sexy top and plenty of skin showing made her look like a teenager at a fraternity party. But this wasn’t that kind of party. This was just a barbecue with ten colleagues from work. And we were all in our forties and fifties. She definitely stood out of the crowd, she was the outsider, and everybody knew that. Even Emma. When I came close she hugged me. She wrapped her arms around me and wanted to kiss me on the lips. But she couldn’t reach that high. Instead she pushed her face against my chest and I feared that her extensive make-up would leave marks on my white shirt. She smiled and looked up with anticipation and maybe a little bit of tension. “Hi Emma. Please come inside, we need to talk.” I pushed myself out of the hug and placed my hand between her shoulder blades to guide her inside the house. Emma looked worried and I knew all my colleagues were staring at us. They all felt the tension, and they all knew what had happened before. All right, they didn’t know everything, but they knew enough to feel that something was going to happen. “Peter, I’m sorry for...” She started, but her words where unnecessary. “Please stop talking. I will talk first and you need to listen. But we will do that inside the house, and we will find a nice and quiet place where we are not disturbed.” I said it calm but resolutely. I wanted her to know that I was serious. This was not a game anymore, not for me anyway. In fact, for me it was never a game. But Emma did exactly what she always did when somebody asked her to do something: she starting asking why and did not get the clue that she should have listened in the first place. She turned around to me and looked me in the eye. She didn’t seem to care that everybody was looking at us. “Peter, let’s…” She started talking again. “No, stop. You really need to listen to me now.” I said with a raised voice. “You know you are not invited here, and I made it absolutely clear that you are not welcome. You even promised you wouldn’t come.” I looked her in the eyes and saw her nervous smile fade away. Her confidence was melting, but it was not gone yet. “So you can talk all you want, but all I hear are lies and falsehoods. So, stop talking and go inside. Now, please!” I gave her a last chance to go to a place without spectators, without the audience. And people were looking at us, enjoying it. Not long after Emma started her internship at the company, people started to dislike her and hoped that something like this would happen one day. Her arrogance and misplaced self-confidence made her no friends. “That’s not…” Again I didn’t let her finish her sentence. She clearly wasn’t going to listen and she didn’t made any attempt to go inside. She gave me the excuse I wanted, and I could do what I planned to do. I grabbed her by her arm, pushed her in position and swung my other hand from behind and let it land op her ass. Everybody could hear my hand hit the back of her skirt and saw the startled face of Emma. She shouted in surprise, not because I did her a lot of pain. Everybody looked at us in silence and saw that I treated her like the child she was acting like. Emma was shocked and looked up in disgust. I looked her again straight in the eyes. The twenty year old looked up to me and then looked away. She now realized that everybody around us looked at her, and the humiliation became visible on her face. “Did you hear what I said? I want you to go inside the house so we can talk. Are you going to listen now?” I still had my hand around her arm. She couldn’t get away, but I think she was more or less paralyzed by the shock and wasn’t planning to run away. Again she didn’t respond to my question. She just looked down at the ground, avoiding any eye contact. It took a little shaking around before she looked up and finally she nodded, albeit very slightly. “OK, then please go to the hall. You can sit on the stairs if you want. I’ll come find you in a minute. Is that understood?” I was purposely talking to her as if she was a child, but she wasn’t a child at all. She was an adult, a beautiful but slightly small one. She had made an effort to look sexy, with a lot of curve showing and from above I had an excellent view into her cleavage. But she was twenty and I was forty-five. “Yes.” She sounded very soft. For the moment she conceded. She knew she couldn’t win this round and the only thing she wanted to do now, was leave the garden and find a spot to regroup, and find her calm, and her confidence. This was not the moment to teach her that I would like to hear a response like: ‘Yes, Peter’ or ‘No, Peter’, but I hoped that that time would still come. I let go of her arm and Emma immediately started to walk inside the house. I watched her go and followed her with my eyes. I was a bit afraid that she would run away, and that she went home and that my plans would fail. But deep inside I knew already that she would not do that. I was confident that my plan worked, and that she would behave the way as expected. I smiled, and was already excited about the next step of the plan. For now I concluded that the first part of the plan worked perfectly. Chapter 3 - Confessions Five minutes. I gave her a bit more time to think about what happened. She got a bit more time to realize that her plan was failing. I suppose she still thought that she might end up in bed with me, but that was not the end goal I had in mind. I had different plans, and preparations were already underway for a two weeks now. The only reason I gave this barbecue in my backyard was to lure Emma here. And it worked. I opened the door to the hall and Emma was startled. She was indeed sitting on the second step of the stair, but stood up as soon as I entered the hall. “I’m sorry I had to smack your bottom.” I said with a shy smile. I think she thought I was still angry, but instead I walked towards her and gave her a hug. I pulled her close to me and wrapped my arms around her. I even kissed her on top of her head. “You didn’t listen, and I needed you to listen.” I whispered to her in a soft voice, without a hint of anger or irritation. “Why… Peter?” She still felt the humiliation and the confusion. Moments ago she thought I was mad at her, and now I was kissing her. I gave out these mixed messages on purpose. I needed her confused for now, to lure her a bit more in my trap. Far enough that so there wasn’t a way back. “First, please forget that you think you can end up in my bed. That’s not going to happen.” I said sternly. I still had her firm against my body, but she could hear me perfectly. “If you still believe that, then please leave now. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t stay the night, if you want.” I let her get out of the hug and she looked up at me. Her confusion was still visible. “What? Really, but…” She fumbled her words and was lost for words. “I know you don’t want to go home tonight, and I know you brought a change of clothes just in case, but there is a big issue we need to talk about first.” “Wh… What?” “The problem is that I don’t trust you. I can’t trust you.” “Yes… Yes, you can.” Emma looked up desperately. “No, I can’t. Did you lie to me? Did you say you were not planning to come here tonight, because I explicitly said you were not welcome? Was that a lie, Emma?” Emma wanted to answer immediately, but I stopped her. I put a finger vertically on her lips and she understood the gesture. “Please think before you answer, and please don’t lie to me again.” Emma started blushing. I knew she was going to lie again, like she always did. That was kind of second nature to her. Off course she would deny it, but I already knew the truth. Last Thursday she confessed to another colleague that she was planning to come here, and later that day denied it to me. It was time for her to stop lying. Emma looked up at me, with a blush on her forehead. She nodded and finally told the truth. “Yes… I… I lied. But I…” I saw her tremble for a moment and pulled her close to me again. “All right, Emma. I’m glad you told the truth. Please don’t ever lie to me again.” I said, and gave her a moment to feel her body against mine. I wanted to give her some warmth, something I knew she didn’t get at home. I gave her another minute before I made my confession. “Now you told the truth, then I need to make a confession too.” I said, and I smiled. “Even though I explicitly forbade you to come here and I made myself very clear to you that you were not welcome here, I already knew you would come. I knew you could not resist the temptation and that’s why I already prepared a room for you.” Emma bended her head backwards and looked up. “A… A room.” “Yes, off course. You will get your own room, with your own bed.” “And… I can stay?” She asked. I couldn’t answer that question right away. “If you want, and if you obey my rules, then yes. You can stay here tonight. But only if you agree to my rules. And even then, there may be some surprises for you. And I already know that some of those surprises you will not like.” And even with that ominous warning she only heard the word ‘yes’. Chapter 4 – The proposal “The problem is that I don’t trust you. You lied to me, on multiple occasions. You looked me straight in the eyes and lied. That is problem.” I said. “So, I’ll be very clear to you. I’ll tell you exactly what is going to happen. You may not like what I have planned for you, but you are here out of your own free will and you are free to leave. Do you understand?” Emma look puzzled, and a bit scared, but eventually she nodded. “You are free to leave, but… There is a big but.” I said. “There are only a few moments where you can decide to leave. Between those moments you are in my house and under my control. Here in this house I am responsible and you have to follow my rules.” Emma looked at me with a blank face. She had no idea what I meant. That would change soon. “I know this all sounds a bit strange, but I will explain.” I started. “First, in order to be able to build up my trust in you, I need you to learn that you cannot lie to me. You need to understand what happens when you lie and what the consequences are. And that will not be a pleasant part of this evening. I’m sorry to say, but I will need to punish you for your lies. I hope that will prevent you from further lying.” “P… Punish?” She stuttered the word. I nodded. “Yes. I will punish you. And it will hurt. It will hurt a lot.” I looked her in the eyes and saw fear. I was so much taller and stronger than her, and until now that didn’t stop her. Only now she really noticed the difference. “Then I will show you your room and you will stay there for at least two hours. You can sleep if you like, but you must stay in your room. You will get some time to process what I did to you, so you can decide how you react to that. That is part of the punishment.” Emma didn’t dare to ask anything. “Then I will get you, take you downstairs and get you something to drink and eat. At that point you can decide if you want to leave. I will ask someone to bring you home. I think Bob is going your way anyway, and he can drop you off at home if you want.” “By you can stay here if you like. But if you decide to stay for the night, you will need to comply with my rules, you need to behave or suffer the consequences. By then you know what happens if you misbehave.” “B… But…” She was lost for words again. “If you decide to stay the night here, I can bring you home tomorrow around noon. Not sooner. So, again, you need to make your decision carefully.” Emma was desperate to stay the night here. She decided that upfront. She knew she would do anything to stay the night here, but now, now it didn’t go according to her plan, everything fell apart for her. I saw her thinking about it, but now that everything was different than expected, she didn’t know what to do anymore. “What… Punishment… What will you do?” She looked up at me. Her face betrayed her nervousness. I approached her again and drew her close to me. I hugged her and wrapped my arms around her, and I gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “I have to do what I should have done before.” I said and waited a few seconds. “I will put you over the knee and I will spank you. I will use my hands, but I will do it on your bare bottom.” I felt her shock. Her body stiffened and she gasped. “I won’t lie to you, and I’m honest to tell you that it will hurt. But I hope that you trust me that I believe that this is the best for you. That is maybe a bit hard to understand, but I believe you need a firm hand.” She pulled her hands between our bodies and pushed herself out of our embrace. She looked at me and shook her head. Of course she was afraid. “No… You don’t… don’t have the right to… to…” She was right, of course. I could only do it with her permission. She was an adult and I had no legal control over her. But I was still convinced that she at least would stay till after her punishment, and after she had spent her time in her bedroom. I was almost certain that she loved me enough, and trusted me enough, to let me punish her. “No, but you lied to me too often and if you want us to have any kind of relationship, then it starts with this. I’m sorry, but this is the only way.” She still shook her head, maybe it was out of stubbornness, or despair. I couldn’t be sure. I knew I had to give her some time, but at the same time give her a hard deadline. She needed to make a decision fast, while I knew that was a tough decision to make. “Go back to the garden, get something to drink or whatever. In fifteen minutes I will ask Bob to bring you home. If you want to stay, then come to me before that. OK?” I asked, but Emma turned her head away from me. She pretended not to listen. With a gentle push I directed her out of the small hallway, in the direction of the garden. I went back to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. I smiled, but I was nervous too. I hoped see agreed to my proposal, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Chapter 5 – Her decision I already asked Bob and prepared him a bit for what was coming. I didn’t tell him everything, but most of it he would find out eventually. With Bob on my side we walked to Emma. She was sitting a bit outside the group. She was looking away, deep in her thoughts. “Emma? Bob will take you home now.” I said and laid my hand on her shoulder. She was startled by me touching her and looked at me. It looked like she cried a bit, but she would probably deny that. She looked at me, then at Bob and then back at me. I didn’t think she fully made her mind up. “Come, you need to go. I don’t think Bob would want to miss the barbecue.” I said smiling, but Emma didn’t move. She gazed at me for a moment and ten slowly stood up. I spread my arms and she walked into them. I hugged her again and let her feel some warmth. “I don’t want to go.” She said very softly. I don’t think Bob could hear it. He knew to give us some space. “Then you know what I have to do.” I replied, also softly. I kissed her on the head again. She shook her head. “Please, don’t.” “I understand you don’t want to be hurt and I will not be gentle. Let us walk to the hall together, we can grab your stuff on the way. If you then want to stay, I need you to show me that, I need a kind of confirmation that you really want to stay. If not, we call Bob. OK?” I whispered and she nodded. I gave her another kiss, but now on her forehead. She looked up at me with watery eyes, as if she was about to start crying. Slowly I let her out of my embrace and I grabbed her hand and softly led her through the garden. We both knew people were looking at us again. What was happening between that 45 year old and the 20 year old intern? It wasn’t illegal, even if she did end up in my bed, but although it was completely legal, it still felt off. She was too young for me. I was too old for her. She was working in my department, even though I wasn’t her real boss. For a short period of time I was her boss, but that didn’t work out, so I transferred her to a colleague. I felt her feet dragging. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t know if she wanted to stay either. It took us more than a minute to cross the house, grab her bag, and end up in the hall. We stood still in front of the door, but it was still closed. She was looking to the door, to her way out, to the end of this disappointment, but she didn’t open the door. “I need conformation, Emma. We’re both adults, I have no right to do this to you without your consent.” I saw her tremble. “So… Let’s… If you want to stay, then… then take off your panties and give them to me. That way I know for sure.” I proposed. I could hear her gasp. She had her head down, looked to the ground and thought about it. I knew she didn’t want to go home, but maybe the price of staying was too high. And she didn’t even know what I had planned for her. She only knew about the spanking. It all took too long. I didn’t want to wait anymore. Maybe the more she thought about it, the less chance I had she would stay. I walked up to her. Her back was turned to me and I moved close to her. I put my hand on her shoulder. “I understand this is a difficult choice to make, and I understand if you want to end it right here, right now. I’ll call Bob, and he’ll…” I started, but she didn’t let me finish. Suddenly she turned around. I saw anger on her face. Her hands were fists and she pounded them against my chest, but not hard. She didn’t want to hurt me, it was just an expression of her anger. Her hands came down and she reached under her skirt. Her skirt came up, but with her thumps under her panties she pulled her panties down. Her seemed more decorative that serving any other purpose. She pulled her feet out of them and then bend over to pick them from the ground. Without looking me in the eye she held her panties out. I took her pink panties and then gave her another hug. “Let’s get it over with, then.” I said. I tried to sound serious, but of course I was excited. She gave herself to me, ready to be punished. “You can leave your shoes, here.” I said, and half a minute later I guided her barefoot up the stairs. Chapter 6 – Final preparations I guided her to my bedroom. I went first and closed the door after she came in. I walked past her to the other side of the bed, closer to the window. The window was open and we could hear our colleagues talking. I closed the window and sat down on the middle of the bed. I placed my hand on the sheets next and gestured to come sit there. So hesitated, but she complied. “Have you ever had a spanking before?” She shook her head immediately. She looked very timid now. “I’m you cry or shout too loud, people may hear us. I think you don’t want that. And also I need you to lie very still, and that may prove difficult too.” Is said to her in a soft voice. “If I need to stop every time you make too much noise or move out of position, then that will only make it take longer. I… I may even need to hit you a bit more, because of the pauses in between.” She kept looking at her feet. “No, no… I will… I will try to…” “I can help you, but… But you may not like it.” “What? How?” I heard softly. “I can fixate your arms and legs, and put something in your mouth. You can’t move too much anymore and I can more easily keep you in place, and you can scream as much as you like as only me will hear you.” I said. She kept quiet. “I would be extremely proud of you if you did that. And it will be over more quickly.” She still didn’t say anything, and didn’t dear to look my way. “You want it to be over as soon as possible?” I asked, and now she nodded very slightly. I wasn’t sure what she really wanted, except that she didn’t want to be spanked at all, so I decided to use the tools I had at my disposal. First I took the towel that was on my night stand and spread it over my knees. With my hands on both side over her body, I helped her move and let her sit on my lap. She still didn’t look at me. The night stand was close enough by to open it and opened the drawer. I saw her looking at what my hand would get out of the drawer, probably anxiously. The first thing I picked was a belt that I put on her waist. I closed it on the front Velcro. On the back, a bit to the side, there were to wristbands that could also be closed with Velcro. One at a time I grabbed her wrist and brought it to her back and locked it into place. I felt a bit more resistance with her second hand, but she let me do it. She was already helpless and overpowered, but now her hands were out of the way, and securely locked against her back, she must have felt more helpless than ever. I grabbed a much smaller belt from the drawer with a soft, black gag on it. I brought the gag to her mouth and she let me put it in her mouth. It was from a soft material and it filled her mouth completely. I closed the belt behind her head. For a short moment I hugged her. I was so glad she trusted me to do this to her. She could have just refused and go home, but I had her on my lap in a position that I completely dominated her. I felt her tremble a bit out of fear and anticipation. I gave her a bit of time to get used to her outfit, before I helped her turn around. I got her to lie on my knees without any problems. She rested with her belly on my left thigh and with her private parts on my other thigh. Her hands were visible to me and were nervously trying to investigate their maneuverability. Her skirt was still covering her buttocks, but only barely. “Can you bend your knees, please?” I asked, and her knees came into reach. I had a last belt that I used to bind her ankles together. It also closed with Velcro. It was done quickly and she straightened her legs again. Her feet were resting on the ground and seeking support against the wall. She was almost ready. I had one more task to do, before I could teach her not to lie to me again. With both hands I pulled her tight skirt up. I exposed her buttocks as she wasn’t wearing any panties anymore. She tightened up, nervous and afraid. I could feel her while body stiffen, but her behind was exposed. I laid my right hand on her left buttock and it shocked her. It was just a touch but she was already in shock. The fact that it was hard for her to see what I did, didn’t help. She trembled again and I decided it was time. I pulled my right hand back. Chapter 7 – Punishment She cried within a minute. The first slaps didn’t hurt that much, much I kept going and soon the pain of each slap faded into the next one, until there was no more relief in between. I hit her with the inside of my hand, hurting myself too, but her pain was worse. I hit her on the left and on the right randomly, leaving her guessing where she would feel the next hit. She screamed at first, but the foam ball in her mouth reduced the volume for the most part. Only I could hear her in between the moments where my hand hit her skin. She fought me, her body tense and hard at one moment, and soft and flexible the next. I could easily keep her in place with my left hand grabbing her belt on her back, between her hands. And when she did manage to move a bit out of position, I could easily pull her back. I continued with her punishment, hitting her hard and leaving the skin on her buttocks darker and darker. It started a light shade of pink, but by now it some places became bruised and were already a much darker shade of pink. I didn’t think she thought it was going to hurt this bad. It took a while before I felt her body relax. She started to give up the fight. Her muscles relaxed and her body was loosening up. Her mind was accepting the fact that it couldn’t fight it, and was just helpless. She wasn’t screaming anymore into her gag, she was just crying. I continued for a short bit, slapping her darkened skin for a few more times and then stopped. She didn’t react to the end of her punishment. She still laid perfectly still, ready to accept more of I decided to do so. I placed my hand on her battered behind. I hadn’t broken anything, just darkened it. But it was enough. It was easy for me to pick her up, turn her around, and let her sit on my lap again. I did it carefully to not hurt her any more than necessary. Her upper body relaxed against mine, and her head was resting against my shoulder. Her eyes were wet from crying, but she was still bound and gagged and could do anything I didn’t help with. She felt exhausted. Her heart was racing and I could her chest expanding every time she breathed. Her mouth was filled, so she had to breathe to her nose. I gave her a minute to recuperate and then removed the gag from her mouth. She drooled a bit and I threw the wet gag on the floor. She rested her head again against my shoulder and felt her wet mouth against my neck. “I’m proud of you.” I said. “You’re so brave. I hope you learned your lesson.” She didn’t say anything, she just rested against me. After a moment I felt her pull against her restraints, and I removed them. Her hands were free again and then I also removed the restraints on her ankles. She was free again, but was still recovering from her punishment. Her breathing was slowly slowing down. I looked at her face and saw that it was a mess. Her make-up was awful after her crying and her mascara was all over her face. With some wet wipes I started to clean her face up. At first she resisted me a bit, but when she noticed that I did it with care and gentle strokes she started helping me. I think her main reason for her resistance was that she didn’t want her make-up to be removed, but I suppose she realized it was needed anyway. So, she let me do it. I needed a lot of wipes to remove it, but in the end her face was clean again, albeit still a bit red. “You did good.” I said thankfully. “Let’s get you into bed. I think you can use the rest.” I tried a small smile, but I didn’t get the same response from her. She wasn’t looking at me, she just laid there in my arms. I was prepared to carry her to her bedroom, but I couldn’t stand up with her in my lap. I could carry her, but then we first both had to stand up. Without speaking I helped her up and stood up beside her. I took her back in my arms, and she let me do it. She even wrapped her arms around my neck to help me. She was ready for another big surprise. Chapter 8 – Her bedroom She wasn’t that big, and I was strong enough to carry her in my arms. I maneuvered her out of my bedroom. I think Emma was glad this part was over, even though must have been a bit nervous about being sent to bed. She must have felt that there was something strange about that, and of course she was right. It was strange to bring a twenty year old to bed, just after a nasty spanking, but this whole situation was strange. Emma was not a normal twenty year old, but what do you define as normal. There were problems in her childhood that followed her around, and that defined her what she was today. And me? Was I normal? I had to admit that I also had my quirks, and today I had the satisfaction of playing out one of my quirks. I brought Emma to her room. The door was closed and I had my hands full. Emma helped. She opened the door for me and I stepped in. Emma must have been curious, or maybe she didn’t expect anything to be strange at all. But as soon as I carried her inside, I felt her body tense again. Her breathing stopped for a moment and I heard her gasp. “I think you remember the remark I made a month ago?” I said. I felt that she wanted to get out of my arms, but I kept her tight. “Someone said something about what you felt for me. I don’t know the exact words anymore. But they were implying that we end up in bed together, that’s for sure.” Our faces were very close and she looked at me for a moment. I watched her face from the moment we stepped into the room. She wasn’t pleased, she wasn’t pleased at all. She looked surprised at first, but then her expression quickly changed to shocked. “You know what I said? You remember that?” I asked, but knew she remembered it lividly. She was shocked and angry, while everybody was laughing. She felt so humiliated that she ran from the company restaurant where we had all lunch together. “I said that I thought you were so young that I would only feel comfortable with you in my bed when you were diapered.” I already knew that she had a crush on me, and this was my first attempt to push her away. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t the right match for her. But it didn’t work. It worked for a few hours, that’s all. “Everybody thought it was a joke. Everybody laughed. Except you.” I said. “Do you still think it was a joke?” I brought her over to the big changing table and sat her down on it. The plastic cover of the changing mat compressed under her weight, but it may not have been prepared for her weight, it was long enough for her to lie down on. For now she just sat in the middle of it, but with her bare feet already on the changing mat too. Emma started shaking her head in disgust. She didn’t understand what she saw and I Think she didn’t realized yet what it meant for her. Maybe she still thought this was all a joke, maybe a bit elaborate to be a joke, but still a joke.. But it wasn’t a joke. This was dead serious. I spent a lot of time and money in preparing this room for her, without even knowing for sure it would be used at all. I hoped it would, but I couldn’t be certain. I saw her look around. She already noticed the pink changing mattress she was sitting on. It was just like one for babies, but only a lot bigger. Now I saw her eyes look at her bed. It was a giant crib, with bars that ended high above the mattress. The mattress itself was already up from the floor, much higher than on a normal bed. She looked at her crib for a moment and then looked at me. “It wasn’t a joke, Emma.” I said again. “I will help you undress, then I will diaper you before you will be put to bed.” “No… No… Why?” She stammered. “No questions. Let’s get you in bed, little girl. I will answer all your questions after your nap. She was still shaking her head in disgust while I started to open the buttons of her shirt. Chapter 9 – Undressed Just before I could open the last of the four buttons of her shirt she froze. She pushed my hands away. Not like she was in a panic, but more gentle and calm. With her sitting on the changing table our eyes were on the same level. She could look me straight in the eyes. She slowly shook her head. “No… Please.” She whispered. I smiled at her. I understood that she would be hesitant, and that she needed some time to comprehend what was happening to her. But my plan was to let her think about that in bed, and for that I needed her diapered, and… for that I needed her naked and lying down on the plastic mattress. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t do anything to you that I wouldn’t do to my nieces and nephews.” It was a joke of course, but at the same time a way to let her know that I would treat her like a child. So, I pushed her hands aside, with exact the amount of force that I needed, and opened the last button of her shirt. I immediately pulled her arms out of the short sleeves and threw her shirt on the ground. “No, no.” She protested again and she felt my hands on her back, opening her bra. Now she panicked a bit. She knew she was helpless and I knew she was afraid of me at the moment. That was totally understandable after the spanking I just gave her. “Please, Peter. I…” I already managed to open her bra and pulled it away. Her face became red in shame and while I tried to maneuver her arms out of the straps of her bra, she placed her arms horizontally over her chest. She seem to protect herself more from my eyes, and less from my hands. “What is it? Why are you so suddenly so shy? This is not the first time I am going to see you naked, is it?” I asked, and again with a little smile. I tried to lessen the tension as much as possible, and at the same time make sure that she knew I was serious about this. I almost had her bra completely off, but with her left hand she tried to hold on to it. “Is it the first time I am going to see you naked?” I asked again, but this time with a bit more power in my voice. She let her fingers relax a bit and I could pull the strap out of her fist. She looked at me, now even redder than before. She shook her head. After I tossed her bra on the ground I placed my hands on her shoulder. “It is not, isn’t it?” I said amused. A few days after my joke in the company restaurant we had our monthly drinks. It was quite busy and of course my joke was still a topic of conversation. When I wanted to go home around nine, I went to my office to get my coat and laptop, but I found a bit more than I had expected. Emma had been waiting for me in my office, and she was desperate to proof to me that she wasn’t a child. I found her sitting on my desk, completely naked. I was stunned and laughed. I had never considered her to be a possible sexual partner, and presenting herself to me naked didn’t help at all. I brought my face a bit closer to hers and we met eye to eye. “I probably should have given you a thorough spanking back then. That would have saved me from a lot of time and money to prepare this room for you.” She blushed and looked down, too ashamed to look at me. I continued to look at her all the same, before my hands slid along her arms to her elbows. “Don’t be afraid, little girl.” I said, and I grabbed her lower arms and helped her lying down on the changing mat. I pushed her sideways and turned her a bit so her back her the plastic cover and she pulled her feet on the mat. Her only garment was now her skirt, and her breast came in full view when I pushed her hands behind her head on the mattress. I held her arms there for a few seconds to let her know that her hands belong there, and when I let go of her hands they indeed stayed put. Without any problems I could open the zipper of her skirt and pull it down. I felt the shiver through her body and heard her gasp for air, but she lay perfectly still for me. Her skirt became the last piece of clothing on the ground as she was now completely naked. For a moment she panicked. She started to sit up and tried to cover herself with her hands. I was prepared for that and I quickly grabbed an ankle and pulled it up and a bit in the direction of her belly. Her other leg followed and she was forced to resign her bid to sit up. With her legs in the air I had access to her bums. I slapped her, not too hard, but it shocked her. I immediately felt her resistance break. The tension left her body and she was under my control again. “Don’t so that, please.” I said. She pulled her hands back behind her head. “S… Sorry… Please.” She whispered. She regretted her moment of rebellion and realized again that she was not in control anymore. I caressed her forehead as a sign of forgiveness. If this was the only time she didn’t do what she was supposed to do, then I would call that a success. Chapter 10 – Diapered! With one hand she held the wrist of her other hand, and her head was turned to the wall. The only movement she made was her chest going up and down for her breathing. Maybe she didn’t dare to move, afraid of another spanking, or she accepted the fact that I could see her completely naked, and that I would diaper her. When I grabbed her ankles and crossed them, her knees bended and her legs opened. She was even more vulnerable now, but she still didn’t move. I took both her ankles in one hand and raised them. I brought the over her belly, but not too high. Her knees moved outside and her back arched a bit. Not only I had an unobstructed view at everything between her legs, I could access it as easily with my right hand. Her bottom was still red from the spanking, and it must still hurt a bit. With my free right hand I opened the top drawer and found the soothing cream. It wasn’t easy to open the tube with one hand but I didn’t want to let her ankles go. To be honest I wasn’t a pro in caring for babies, and most certainly not for babies as big as Emma. I squished some crème directly from the tube on each of her cheeks and then started to rub it in. I did it slowly and with care. My touch must have hurt, but the crème should make the pain go away sooner. “I’m sorry I had to spank you.” I apologized again. “I hope I have never have to do that again.” Emma was still looking at the wall. She let me do what I wanted to do, and she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t need to look, she felt everything I did to her. I tried to be as gentle as I could be, but I was rubbing her abused behind, so it couldn’t be enjoyable. I had to let her skin absorb the crème for a moment and I needed to clean my right hand, so I decided to let her loose for a moment. I stood by to see what her legs would do now I didn’t keep them in place, but nothing happened. She held her legs up, her knees out, and her ankles crossed, so I could grab a towel and dry my hands. “I know this is not a comfortable position, but please hold on for a moment.” I said to her. I put my right hand on her upper thigh and tried to lay my right hand on her forehead and caress her, but the shook my hand away. She was clearly angry at me, but that was OK. I was not angry at her anymore, I was even proud at her that she let me do what I needed to do. I pulled my hands back and started gathering her clothes from the floor. I folded them and put them on the end of the changing table. I wasn’t in a hurry at all. Emma was in a very vulnerable and humiliating position and she stayed like that without me holding here. She just laid there, naked and hurt, waiting for me to continue. I grabbed a diaper from the pile and right next to her head I began to unfold it. The plastic made a lot of noise, but Emma kept looking at the wall. Off course she wore diapers as a kid, but nobody can remember that part of your life. So like most people her age, this would be her first time she would be diapered like a child and actually remember it. Her diaper was white and very think. This wasn’t just a medical diaper, it was much thicker and the tape landing zone on the front was showing cute little bears. Emma didn’t see that. She kept her eyes closed, but she knew what was happening. She had heard the loud crackling of the plastic when I folded the sides of the diaper outwards, and maybe she did some babysitting in the past and recognized the sound. But now it was Emma who was getting diapered. I thought about saying something, but I decided to let her be for the moment. I pushed the back of her diaper under her and positioned the diaper. Then I let her take her legs down and guided her feet down to the changing table. I pushed her knees outwards and pulled the diaper up between her legs. I folded it over her belly. One by one I grabbed the blue tapes, opened them, and pushed them on the tape landing zone, covering part of the childish figures. I closed all for tapes and as a last check I ran my finger between the diaper and the inside of her legs. I felt the elastics and concluded that I did a prefect job. She was diapered! Emma felt that the diaper was closed and slowly started the move a little. She opened her eyes and looked up at me. She blushed and looked away again. She tries to stretch her legs, felt the bulk between her legs and heard the plastic of her diaper protesting. I smiled. “You’re a good girl and I am proud of you.” I said. She shook her head in disgust, or shame, or anger. I didn’t care which emotion she was showing. If it were up to me this wasn’t the last time I diapered her, and I even hoped I could even change her diaper tonight. But I knew that chance was slim, and that she needed time to cope with what happened today. “You wanted to stay the night, I said that I wanted you in diapers. I kept my word. Now, let’s get you ready for bed.” “No, no, no.” She said, but each no was softer than the one before. I knew she resigned to her fate. Chapter 11 – Naptime I helped her sitting up. She let me help her but she wasn’t looking me in the eye. She just looked down. Maybe she was looking at the diaper, or maybe she was just blankly staring down. I realized I still had about ten guests in the garden, and I could hear them through the window that was slightly open. I knew I could leave them alone, and they all knew something was happening with me and Emma. They were probably gossiping about us, but for now what was happening here was still a secret. But not for long. I picked an onesie from the small stack I ordered not so long ago. I hoped I had the right size, but too be absolutely sure I bought a slightly bigger and a slightly smaller one. This one was white, had short sleeves, and three snaps to close it between the legs. I held the arm openings open for her and she reluctantly pushed her hands through them. I pulled the onesie over her head and then further down. If she was glad that her upper body was covered again she didn’t let it show. Maybe the shame for her diaper was much bigger than the fact that I could see her breasts. First I fixed her short sleeves, and pulled them straight, then I let Emma lie on her back again. I pulled the backside of her onesie form under her bottom. She spread her legs for me and made it easy for me to close the onesie in between her legs. The onesie might cover most past of her diaper, it didn’t hide it at all. Not only the diaper was wider between her legs than the onesie, also the thickness of the diaper didn’t leave any questions about what she wore as underwear. I was just glad I bought the right size onesies. It fit her perfectly. It seemed to be comfortably snuck around her body, but not too tight. I left Emma on the changing table for a moment. I wasn’t afraid she would get off by herself, or that she would run away. I also didn’t think she would open her onesie and remove her diaper. I was almost a hundred percent sure that she would just lie there and wait for me to help her in bed. And that was exactly what I was about to do. First I opened the lock on the side of the bed and let the whole side slide down. I found a beautiful and childlike bed for her online. It had cost me a small fortune to buy it and let it be delivered here, but I found it worth every penny. It was just like a children’s bed, with a raised mattress and high barred sides. It wasn’t a cage, but inside the bed it must feel like that with bars all around. Only the ceiling you could see without restrictions, but even it you would climb over the side you still had to face the almost 2 meter high drop to the ground. That wasn’t a problem for an adult off course, but the sides were supposed to be more of a psychological barrier than a psychical one. And I hoped that it would make her feel small and childish. I also hoped that she would recognize and appreciate the effort I made in preparing this room for her. I could understand that she wouldn’t really appreciate it right now, but I hoped that this was not the first and the last time I had her here in this room. I also bought a special sleeping bag for her, similar to the ones babies sleep in. It was light blue and not too thick for her too sleep in during the summer. It was smaller at the top and it has openings for her arms. It had a zipper on the back from top to bottom. I brought it over to the changing table and Emma looked at it with disgust. I opened the zipper from the bottom upwards. Emma shook her head and she looked at me for a moment. She saw the smile on my face and probably realized that she didn’t have choice. I draped the sleeping bag over her and helper her arms through the holes. I then helped her turn around. Now she was lying on her stomach and I could close the zipper just below her neck and pull the zipper all the way down. At last her feet disappeared in the sleeping bag. I helped her turn around again and helped her sit up. Her short white sleeves showing, but the rest of her onesie was covered by the sleeping bag. The light blue sleeping bag covered her shoulders and gave just enough space around her neck to be comfortable, but still we tight enough to not be able to pull her head inside. “Isn’t it nice, and comfortable?” I asked. Now she was sitting up our heads were not far apart. She wasn’t looking at me. I waited for a moment to give her a bit of time to respond, but she didn’t say anything. She even didn’t move and just sat there. “Can you please look at me?” I asked nicely, and after a few seconds she turned her head and looked me in the eyes. I saw a little bit of anger, but also shame, but mostly I saw the helplessness in her eyes. She was indeed helpless. I was in control, and she could only just go with the flow. Even though she, more or less, underwent this whole ordeal voluntarily. “Thank you for cooperating. I can understand that this isn’t easy for you, but I am very proud of you, of your behavior. Thank you for that.” I said. I wanted to kiss her on her forehead, but I wasn’t fast enough and I gave her the opportunity to reject it, and she took it. I was OK with that, for now. “I think you understand what I expect of you, but to be entirely certain I will tell you my rules.” I said. She blushed a bit and looked away. “You are not allowed to touch your diaper. I diapered you, and I will take your diaper off when I decide it is time for that, or I will change your diaper when it needs to be changed before that time. Is that understood?” I said. I tried to keep the tone of my voice not too strict, but the same time I wanted her to know that I was serious. She nodded. I think I saw her shiver a bit when I told her that I might need to change her diaper. I could only hope that she urgently needed to pee soon, and that she then was forced to use her diaper. It was already a dream come true that I could spank and diaper her, and I couldn’t hope for more, but a man could dream. “Just to be sure.” I said with a sly smile. “I don’t mind if your diaper is wet when I come get you out of bed later. I don’t mind at all.” I said. Emma grunted something softly that I could not understand, and probably it was just a generic noise of disapproval. “Also, you are not allowed to open your sleeping bag. And off course you are also not allowed to climb out of bed when the sides are up. Understood?” She nodded again. “If you want I can help you.” I said after a short pause. “I can lock your sleeping bag so that you can’t open it and so you can’t touch your diaper. I don’t want to spank you again, so if you are afraid you can’t control yourself then please tell me.” She abruptly turned her head and looked me in the eyes. She was angry now. “You… The lock is not necessary.” She said. “Did I not do everything you asked of me?” I didn’t expect her to react to fiercely, but I smiled forgivingly. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You behaved perfectly.” I bent forward to her and wrapped my arms around her. I pulled her close to me, and although she resisted me for a moment she knew she was too late to react this time. Our heads were side by side and I kissed her just above her ear. Then I repositioned my right arm under her and took her in my arms. She was not too heavy and I carried her too her bed. I laid her down on the mattress and she stretched her legs. She was still or het back. I kissed her on her forehead and she let me. “I am so proud of you, little girl.” I said, with the biggest smile possible. “Please try to rest for a bit. I will come get you in a few hours.” I stepped back a bit, pulled the side of the bed up and enclosed her in bars. She immediately turned on her stomach, facing the wall. I walked to the window, looked outside to my guests in the garden and closed the curtains. It didn’t darken the room very much, but it kept the sun out. I looked at Emma again, at her white onesie sticking out of the light blue sleeping bag, through the white bars of the oversized baby crib. With that picture in mind I left her bedroom, closed the door and went back to my guests. I had some explaining to do to my colleagues. Chapter 12 – My little girl Two and a half hours I left her alone. Via a baby monitor I checked on her regularly. It made it possible for me to see her at any time via an app on my phone. I had seen her restless in the beginning, not sure what to do and unable to find a comfortable position. She turned and turned and eventually settled down on her side, faced towards the room, and with her arm under her head as some kind of pillow. I didn’t think she slept, or even tried to sleep. It must have been turmoil in her head, thinking about what she has been through, and what she expected to happen next. I couldn’t possibly know what she was really thinking about, and I could only hope that she didn’t hate me too much. When I opened the door to her bedroom she looked me in the eye. She was sitting in the corner of her bed, with her back against the bars and her knees pulled up. She had her arms wrapped around her legs and I had seen on my phone that she had rested her head on top of her knees. She followed me with her eyes, as I smiled lovingly. I first went to the window and opened the curtains. The sun blinded my eyes but Emma was still in the shadow. I went to her and lowered the side of the bed. She looked at me with a little bit of fear in her eyes. “Can… Can I go now?” She asked. I shook my head. “No. Bob will take you home if you want, but not before eleven tonight.” I said. She bowed her head. “You are my little girl, at least until eleven, and I hope for whole the weekend.” She shook her head again, this time with more determination. She kept looking at me, but not directly into my eyes. Maybe she hoped that her sad face would make me more lenient. “Please lie down.” I asked. “What… What are you going to do?” She asked softly, but she already moved to the middle of the bed and laid down on her back. “Let me first get you out of your sleeping bag.” I said. “Then I will check your diaper and change you, if needed.” She looked at me angrily. “What? Off course you don’t need to change me.” She shouted. “Don’t be mad. You are wearing a diaper and you will wear a diaper for as long as you are in, or around, my house.” I smiled at her. “So, I suppose you will be wet before the evening is over.” She shook her head again, this time almost frantically. She panicked and sat up. “No, no… Please.” Now I shook my head and looked at her sternly. “Lie down, Emma.” I put my finger under her chin, pushed her head up a bit and let her look me in the eyes. “You behaved almost perfectly until now. You should have been lying down in bed, and not sitting up, but that I will forgive you. This time. Please don’t start misbehaving now, because I will not tolerate that.” She laid down again, but kept looking up at me with pleading eyes. “So, as I said, first I will check your diaper and then I will take you downstairs.” “But… But what...” I almost smiled. Off course she was afraid that anyone would see her in a diaper. The clothes that she wore when she arrived here would not conceal her diaper, it probably wouldn’t even fit over her diaper. “You don’t need to be ashamed. We are going to show everyone that you are still a little girl. A very pretty little girl, and a very good behaving little girl. We are going to show everyone what you really are, and that you are not the bratty, foul-mouthed and arrogant young woman that you pretend to be.” She was in shock. Her face turned white and froze. I used that to turn her around and open the zipper all the way up until the two sides came apart. I helped her out of the sleeping bag and folded the sleeping bag and put it on the end of the bed. Emma was already on her back again. I pushed my hands between her legs pushed her legs apart. I opened her onesie and pulled it up. Her diaper came in full view and I could clearly see that her diaper was still dry. I thought about opening her diaper and look at her buttocks to see if they were still red, but I decided not to do that. I closed her onesie, but that didn’t conceal her diaper completely. “Are you ready?” I asked. “R… Ready?” “To show your colleagues that you are still a little girl?” I smiled. She shook her head. I helped her sitting up, and then I guided her legs over the side of the bed. She let me, but with hesitation. “Please…” She pleaded. “Don’t be afraid. You don’t need to be ashamed. Nobody will laugh at you.” I knew I couldn’t convince her to not be afraid or ashamed, but I wanted to give her at least some kind of support. “And to be honest, I have to confess that everybody heard that I had to spank you. I shouldn’t have left the window open.” “What? No!” She said, and I saw her eyes get watery. The knowledge that all of her colleagues knew what had happened to her, made her even less willing to go downstairs. But she had no choice. I would take her downstairs, in her diaper and onesie, and show everyone that she was a little girl. And Emma realized that too. Chapter 13 – No secrets With her legs over the side of the bed I stood right before her. I looked her in the eyes. She looked differently without her make-up, and I never really looked at her without all the stuff she used. I thought she was much prettier without it, and with her hair loosely over her shoulders, she looked so much friendlier. And with her wearing that cute onesie, and her diaper showing underneath, the picture was complete. “Let’s get you downstairs. You must be thirsty.” I gently picked up her hands and put them on my shoulders. She shook her head and was clearly shocked, but I already pushed my hands underneath her, between the diaper and the bed. I lifted her up from the bed and she leaned forwards against my body. I felt her arms around my neck and her face next to my right ear. She also wrapped her legs around me for a bit of support. She was not that big, but still heavy to carry downstairs. “Pl… Please, not… Can I stay here?” She pleaded softly in my ear. “No, off course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” I said. “Please, I will… I will be a little girl. I will… pee, and I… You… I will let you change… change me.” I laughed while I carried her out of her room. “I think the evening is still long and you will wet your diaper anyway.” I said. “And I will change you whenever and wherever I want, little girl.” I tried to sound firm and strong, but she must have heard the laugh I was desperately trying to hide. I felt a shiver passing through her On the way down she was quit, and I had to concentrate to get her safely down the stairs. Maybe she was bit scared that I’d fall, and that she was trying to be as still as possible. Only after we were safely on the ground floor, I heard her voice in my ear again. “I… I want to go home.” “You can, but not now. Later tonight, I told you already. Until then I need you to behave and show everyone what a pretty, well-behaved little girl you are.” I felt her body tense up as I carried her into the kitchen. The noticed the first spectator looking at her, and I felt the tension in her body building up. She clearly didn’t want this to happen, but seemed to have accepted that she wasn’t in control anymore. Off course I could understand her. Until now she was an independent young woman, pretending to be confident and all grown up, showing her body to everyone, showing her curves. Just showing a lot of skin. She wanted people to notice her. But for me she just looked like a little girl in a grown-up body, hiding her real self behind the make-up, and the short skirts, and the almost-all-revealing tops. Until today. Today her life changed radically. She didn’t need to pretend anymore, because everyone would look at her, and see what she really was. And most likely they would all realize that deep inside they already knew. They all knew already that Emma was not the grownup, self-confident woman she pretended to be. Kathleen was the first to see this young woman in a completely different set of clothes. Kathleen worked in the Finance department, and I knew Emma did some work for her department, and I also knew she didn’t liked Emma. Now Kathleen looked at me, then at Emma and I saw her gaze go down and recognize the diaper. Kathleen smiled and Emma saw that. Emma hid her face in my neck, and her arms and legs around me hugged me a little tighter. Emma knew she could not fight it. She knew that she was to be presented to the rest of her colleagues. She knew everybody would see her in her diaper and onesie. “She is a bit shy now.” I said to Kathleen, with a sly smile on my face. I carried Emma through the kitchen and into the garden. As soon as we entered the garden everybody stopped talking and stared looking at us. Or, to be more precise, they looked at Emma. Everybody looked at the white onesie with short sleeves, and the diaper that was peeking out between her legs. The onesie wasn’t any good at hiding her diaper anyway, because you could see the back of her diaper through the white cotton. “Please, don’t make it harder for this little girl than it already is.” I said loudly. “Yes, I spanked her for lying to me. And yes, I spanked her for showing up while she clearly knew she wasn’t welcome her. Although I am sorry I had to hurt her like that, I will not tolerate that kind of behavior.” Everybody looked at me, nodded, and some even smiled a little. I felt Emma gasping for air, but she didn’t attempt to break free out of my arms. “And, as you can see, I diapered her and I will keep her in diapers for as long as she is here. As long as she behaves like a child, I will treat her like one.” I said, while slowly I turned around. I looked at all my colleagues and let all colleagues see the little girl in my arms. “No, no… Stop. I… I am an adult.” She whispered in my ear, so soft that nobody else could hear it. I turned my head and she tilted her head a bit backwards. We were looking in each other’s eyes while our noses touched. “No, you are not. Especially not while I am in charge.” I smiled and managed to give her a quick kiss on her cheek. “But don’t be afraid, or ashamed. I will take care of you, I will help you, and… and I will make sure you learned your lesson.” Then I whispered something else in her ear. “And I love you, but not in the way you hoped for.” I felt her reaction when I said I loved her. Maybe she was surprised by it, or maybe she was just glad to hear it. It was certainly not the love she craved for, but this was what I could give her. I knew her situation at home was not as stable as I had when I was her age, and I wanted her to know I could care for her, but she needed to understand the consequences of her choices. I carried her to a blanket I already had spread out on the grass, a bit to the side, and away from the bulk of the people. I let her down and she landed on her feet. Now she was on the ground she pulled her arms back and I could give her another kiss. Again it was quick, but this time it was on her forehead. “Let me care for you, little girl.” I said. She shook her head, slowly. Her face was red from the shame she felt and she didn’t want to look in the direction of her colleagues. “Please sit down.” I said gently. “You are not allowed of this blanket. I will get you everything you need.” She looked at me in disgust, but she did sit down. She pulled in her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m not a baby!” She snorted while she looked up at me. “No, you are not a baby.” I laughed. “But you are a little girl.” I looked at her for a moment and then smiled. “Don’t be a naughty little girl.” I turned around and walked away. Chapter 14 – Warm milk She was sitting alone in her part of the garden. She was left alone by all of us, and she was certainly not going to attract any attention on purpose. She sat with her back to us, facing the high bushes surrounding the garden. She had put her knees up and leaned with her arms on them, and let her head rest on her arms. She must have felt lonely, but probably thought that lonely was better than being diapered and surrounded by colleagues. I wasn’t going to leave her alone for a long time. I had promised to let her go home at the end of the evening, if she wanted to. I could not keep her here if she really wanted to leave, but that was more for moral or legal reasons, than of a mere physical reason. I could easily lock her in the sleeping bag, and she wouldn’t go anywhere without me noticing, and preventing, it. So that meant that my time with her was limited, unless she wanted to stay. And I wasn’t sure she was ready to admit to herself that it was better for her to stay, or that she wanted to stay. With that in mind I prepared the next step, and then walked over to Emma. I crouched down beside her. She looked at me for a second, and then looked the other way, a bit too theatrically. “Go away.” She said softly. I shook my head. “No, I can’t do that.” I touched her shoulder. Did she shiver a bit? Was she afraid of me, or did I just startle her? “I have something to drink for you.” I said, but she again shook her head. I expected nothing else, and slowly, but firmly, I grabbed her and positioned her the way I wanted to. She didn’t help me, but she didn’t reject it that much too. I was already sitting and Emma was sideways in front of me. I let her head rest against my shoulder and supported her with my right arm around her back. She looked a bit surprised and it seemed she still didn’t know what was about to happen. She looked up, while I held her in my arms, and didn’t see the bottle coming. The nipple of the full-size baby bottle was already in her mouth before she could reject it. She closed her mouth too late and the big nipple was already filled a large part of her mouth. I held the bottle up and she must already feel the warm milk seep into her mouth. I prepared the nipple so that even if she didn’t suck on the nipple it would still release a little bit of fluid. Now she looked shocked and tried to push the nipple out with her tongue. “No, Emma. No!” I said loudly, and I felt her resistance fade away. “Be a good little girl and let me feed you.” She shook her head and her head turned slightly red. She was now facing her colleagues and she could see them looking at us. She looked away and decided to do what she was supposed to do. I could feel her trying to figure out how to get more milk out of the nipple, and I didn’t take long before she was swallowing the warm milk every few seconds. I gave her a small kiss on her forehead. “You’re a good girl.” I said. “You need to drink a lot, because I want your diaper wet before the evening is over.” I smiled at her and she looked shocked again. This couldn’t be a big surprise for her. She must have known I wanted her to wet her diaper like a baby, and I didn’t just diaper her for fun. I wanted her to use the diaper for what it was intended for. “No, please.” She said softly. I pulled the bottle back for a moment and let her speak. Her lips were white with the milk and it dripped a bit down her chin. I set the bottle aside a wiped her mouth clean. “You’re diaper will be wet before the evening is over.” I tried to look firmly, but she must have seen that I wasn’t angry. I was just amused and enjoying myself. “I can bottle feed you at least four more bottles like these, and not even a big girl can’t hold that much.” She shook her head again and started to say something, but I put the nipple back in her mouth. She swallowed her words, and the warm milk. And she swallowed her pride. I let her drink for a minute. It was a big bottle and drinking was slow, so only about a third of the milk had passed her mouth. Emma lay comfortably in my arms, her legs spread out on the blanket, her back supported by my arm, and the side of her head gently resting against my shoulder. She didn’t look up at me, and she didn’t look at her colleagues who sometimes looked our way. I didn’t think it looked like Emma was uncomfortable in any way, she seemed like a happy toddler being bottle-fed. Except Emma was a bit bigger than a normal toddler. But like a toddler, she was wearing a diaper. And whether she liked it or not, her diaper would definitely become wet during the night. I just hoped she was still wearing a diaper at the end of the night, and sleeping in her crib. Chapter 15 – Hesitations “I don’t think I should let you go home tonight.” I said. She almost finished her bottle of warm milk and her belly was full. The milk would gradually work its way to her blather, and would eventually make her diaper wet and bulky. Emma shook her head while she looked up at me for a few seconds. Her movement caused the escape of a few drops of milk from the corner of her mouth. They dribbled down on to her chin and she wanted to wipe them away with her hand, but I stopped her. The white milk on her pink skin didn’t bother me, and made her just look a little bit more childish. “I should keep you in diapers all weekend, little girl.” She again shook her head when I spoke to her. She wanted to talk, but with the nipple between her lips and the constant flow of milk in her mouth she knew she couldn’t do it without spilling some milk. The bottle was almost empty when I took it out of her mouth. She swallowed once and then looked up to me. “No, please… I can’t… I…” She said, softly. Off course I noticed that she didn’t say that she did not want it, but that she could not. “Yes, you can.” I said with a smile. “No, no… I… I need to work on… on my thesis. It… The deadline is in a month.” “You could have finished that by now, you should have finished that by now!” I said. “But you decided to pick up another project that was not part of your thesis. You shouldn’t have done that. This is your own fault.” “It’s… But…” “I know its part of a project with a strict deadline, but that is not your problem.” I said, and pushed the nipple of the bottle back into her mouth. She tried to reject it for a moment, but soon closed her mouth around it. I tilted the bottle and the last bit of the milk started to drip into her mouth again. “You are risking your thesis, and for what? You’re not even paid for this side-job.” I saw her blush a little, as she realized I was right. She shouldn’t have said yes when John asked her to do this. She drank the last bit of milk. With a big smile I looked down on her. “Very good, little girl. I am proud of you. You drank the whole bottle. I suppose you had to be very thirsty.” I pulled the nipple out of her mouth and now she could speak again. “And… And I need to work. I… I need… I need the money.” She said shyly, and looked up at me. I shook my head. I put the empty bottle aside and wiped her lips and chin clean. “No, no, no. Work, study, side-project. That is way too much for you.” I said with a serious tone in my voice. “Your study is almost finished, forget all the rest. Little girls like you should sleep a lot, and play. Do some coloring, play with dolls, watch cartoons. Stuff like that.” She shook her head. “I… I can’t do that.” “And there is something else. Your mother called, she…” “She is not my mother!” She interrupted me, almost angry. “…She said you were supposed to babysit tonight?” I asked. Emma shook her head, again, and let out a clearly noticeable sigh. “No, no… I said I couldn’t… She can’t expect me to… to babysit all the time.” “Now she is taking the money for the babysitter out of your bank account, she said. Can she do that? Can she take your money?” I heard her confirm that, but very softly. “Does she often take money from your account?” I asked, and again she nodded slightly. “Does she takes too much? I mean, more than you agreed to for… for general cost of living. It’s OK, and it’s normal, that you pay for something, but…” “She takes it all.” Emma said. “I… I need to work tomorrow.” She looked up, and pleaded. “Please, please let me go home tonight.” She begged. I pulled her close to me, and felt sorry for her. She was taken advantage of by her stepmother, had to work to get her money get stolen by her stepmother, and still managed to do well in school. And then also started a side-project, just to please somebody else at work. “I… I will be a… your little girl…. Tonight. I… I am… already… But… But, please. Please let me go home tonight.” I think she was crying, although I couldn’t see her face. I felt her body tremble for a moment and slowly she pushed her legs apart. It was only now that I realized she was peeing. My little girl Emma was wetting her diaper! Chapter 16 – No worries With what I had heard from Emma, I was even more determined to not let her go home tonight. I wanted her to be diapered this whole weekend. I wanted her in her crib for at least 12 hours a day. I wanted her to play, and watch TV, and maybe do some coloring for me. I wanted her to feel small, helpless and care-free. First step was to get rid of the stress she had. Some of that was her own fault, and some of it was because of her situation at home. But to be honest, most problems she had I had already anticipated, and without her knowing, already solved for her. It wasn’t too hard. With everything she had said to me, I believed I could let her stay her this whole weekend without feeling that I had gotten her in some kind of trouble. I smiled while walking upstairs. I picked the things I needed for her, and for the next step in her transition. And I simply wanted to play dress-up. I took it all downstairs, but left a few things on the kitchen table. When I returned to Emma she was still sulking. Her mood didn’t get any better when she saw what I brought her. I kneeled beside her, kissed her on her forehead and then pushed her on her back, gently but with just enough power to overcome her reluctance. My hands worked themselves between her legs and opened the buttons of her onesie and started to pull it up. While she was lying on her back, I pulled the onesie up and over her head. She was naked except for her diaper now, but she seemed for worried about her wet diaper than her exposed breasts. She brought her hands down and tried to cover her diaper. I let her. I wasn’t interested in her diaper right now. I already saw she had indeed wet her diaper, but it was not much. I was showing though, and it was clearly visible that she wet her diaper like a little girl. I let her stand up, let her put her hands out, and guided her hands and her head in the pink dress. I pulled it down and Emma let me. The pink diaper with short, frilly sleeves, and much more frills down below. Standing up the dress just covered her diaper, but I wouldn’t let her stand all night. “You must be lonely here.” I said. “You don’t need to be shy.” I smiled at her and put my hand out for her. I wanted her to take it so I could walk her to my other guests. I wanted them to meet baby Emma, but Emma didn’t agree. She shook her head and looked at me with a mixture of fear and shame. I smiled again. I knew Emma would know by now that if I wanted her between the other guests, she would be there shortly. Still she didn’t take my hand and looked down. Her face turned a bit of red. I gave her a hug, pulled her against my body, and wrapped my arms around her. I caressed her, pulled my fingers softly between her hairs. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got another nice bottle of milk for you, and then something healthy to eat.” “No… no…” She stammered, and I felt a shiver pass through her body. “Yes, yes.” I said with a big smile. I let her go out of the hug and my hand found hers. I did a small step and felt her hand tense up. I didn’t let her go, and neither did she try to. Her grip just got a little tighter. “Don’t be shy.” I said. “You look beautiful.” I did another small step and Emma followed. Her bare feet stepped on the grass and slowly she followed me. Step by step we came closer to the small crowd, gathered around a few high tables. They were drinking, talking, laughing, and generally having a good time. When they saw us getting closer, it became silent. They were looking at us, but mostly at Emma. Her over-the-top frilly dress in pink was hard to miss. A few people were sitting around the wooden garden table. The wooden bench was empty and I lead Emma to the bench. I sat first and then I pulled Emma towards me. I let her sit on my lap and let her head rest against my shoulder. I positioned a little better so her upper body was a leaning backwards a bit. Kathleen handed me the bottle I had prepared, and I directly pushed the nipple between her lips. She opened her mouth a bit and accepted the bottle. I tilted the bottle up and Emma started drinking immediately. Her face was pointing to the other people, but she had her eyes closed. Her legs were slightly spread and I don’t think she realized that most of my guest had a perfect view of her diaper. Her dress was not long enough to cover it anymore now she was sitting in my lap. And not only could everybody see that see wore a diaper, it couldn’t be missed that she used for its intended purpose. “I think you were thirsty.” I said. She didn’t waste any time and I could see the level of milk slowly, but steadily, get lower and lower. I pulled her a bit more on my lap and placed my free hand between her legs on her diaper. I felt the thickness of the diaper where it had absorbed her pee. It could handle a lot more, and another liter of milk was coming that way. “O, hello.” I said. “Sorry that I’m not entertaining you all, but this little girl is in need of a bit more attention.” “No problem, no problem at all.” Kathleen said. “Very understandable. And I see that a diaper change is needed too.” I laughed. “I’ll change her in an hour or so when I bring her to bed. It’s already way past her bedtime, but it’s a party so I let her stay up.” Emma opened her eyes and looked up at me. I saw she was separate to speak, so I pulled the nipple out of her mouth. “What… I… You promised… I want… I need to go home.” She begged me but laid still in my arms. “You, you’re not.” I said, and I pushed the nipple back inti her mouth. “You can trust me. You don’t need to worry about anything. Daddy will solve all your problems.” I said. She wanted to protest, but I felt her body resign. The tension left her body again and she relaxed again. Chapter 17 – Shock She seemed relaxed now. She even had her eyes open, while I fed her yoghurt met pieces of fruit. I had placed a bib on her to keep her dress clean, and every time I brought my spoon to her mouth she opened it voluntarily. In the mean time I saw her looking around. She looked at my guests, her colleagues, and sometimes her eyes met the gaze of one of them. Only then she showed some shyness when then quickly looked another way. I told her that I had gotten her an extension for her thesis. She was clearly relieved to hear that. I already heard that the latest version she submitted last month was already enough, and that version would already gotten her enough points to graduate. But Emma wanted it perfect, and I would gladly help her do that. But she would be doing that diapered. She accepted another spoonful of yoghurt with a big chunk of apple in it. She opened her mouth for it, without really looking. The apple graced her lips and left a big spot of yoghurt on her chin. She looked up and smiled at me. With a corner of her bib I wiped her chin clean. She seemed so happy now. Everybody was watching us, seeing how a twenty year old was dressed as a toddler and being spoon-fed like a little child. I knew for sure that nobody here had seen this before in real-life. But everybody accepted Emma’s fate, as most of them knew her, and knew how she behaved in the office lately. Even Emma seemed to accept her fate. I also told her that I thought she should get paid for her side-project. It was a project with a high priority, not a very difficult one albeit, but still one that took her a lot of time and had her make arrangements with a lot of different people and departments to gather all the data. Maybe it was the stress, but she had overplayed herself somewhat by demanding the cooperation of some people. People that had their own deadlines and responsibilities. Emma hadn’t made much friends with this project, and I knew that some of those colleagues thought this was a proper reward for her behavior. I couldn’t agree more. I told her that I had arranged that she got paid for three months of work, full pay, as If she was a normal employee. And that I would also arrange that it was paid to a newly opened bank account, so that nobody could take her money away again. Emma had silently listened. She had said nothing, but just slightly rubbed her head against me. She had then just simply kissed me where her lips could reach me. So she kissed me in my neck. The bowl with yoghurt and fruit was empty, and Emma’s stomach was full. I released her from her bib, but not before I thoroughly cleaned her face first. I complimented her on a good job, but she didn’t answer or acknowledge the compliment. She just rested against my body, sometimes with her eyes closed. She seemed to be completely at ease. She got up and looked me in the eyes. “Can… Can I go inside and watch TV?” I shook my head. “No, not today. It’s almost bedtime.” She didn’t like that. “What no. I’m… I’m OK with…” She started to protest, but I stopped her. “I don’t care about with what you are OK with, little girl.” I looked her in the eyes. “If I think its little-girl-bedtime, then that’s what it is. In a few minutes you can say goodnight to everybody, and then I’ll take you upstairs for a diaper change. You will be in your crib in 15 minutes, young lady!” I’m not sure where her sudden reluctance came from, or why she now suddenly felt that she didn’t like this at all. Maybe she realized that her adult life was partially over. Maybe she realized that her troubles may well be solved, but that the price she had to pay for that was maybe a bit too high. Or maybe she simply didn’t want to go to bed so early in the evening. Or maybe she was testing me to see how my reaction would be if she didn’t behave the way I liked her to. It didn’t really matter what her reasons would be, the end result would be exactly the same. She would be in her crib soon, and she would be thickly diapered, and she would be in a place where she was safe and secure and where she would not be able to escape from. Emma stood up and looked down on me with an annoyed look, maybe even a bit angry. She pulled her frilly dress down in a futile attempt to hide her wet diaper. She shook her head. “No, I want…” She started, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards me. “You have nothing to want. I make the rules here, and you have to follow them.” I said sharply. I wasn’t really angry. This was something that I anticipated. Changes didn’t come without some friction, and I was fully prepared, and willing, to show her who was in charge here. If I had to do it, I would put her over my lap, pull her diaper down, and spank her in full view of everybody around. And Emma knew that. But still she suddenly pulled her hand free, turned around and started running. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected this, but I was not worried. She would come far, dressed and diapered like this. “Emma, come here, now!” I yelled. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at me, and then at Emma. But Emma didn’t stop. She continued to walk away. Emma was not even at the house when I saw her freeze. She suddenly stopped and stood still. It was not like she had a change of heart, but it looked like she had seen something. Something unexpected, and something very scary. I couldn’t see what that was. The party did feel silent for a moment. Everybody had noticed that Emma had ran away, although no one had tried to stop her. “Emma!” I heard someone shouting her name. Than a small silence “What the fuck… What… What is that?” Now I saw a woman coming out of the shadows. I instantly realized it was Emma’s stepmother. Chapter 18 – The stepmother Everyone fell quiet, and that’s why everybody could hear it. “Emma, you… What the fuck!” I heard Emma’s stepmom shout out. “What… What are you wearing?” Emma was now right in front of her mother, and she was so shocked that she didn’t knew what to do. So she did nothing. Her mother was so close, compared to her I was miles away. I already stood up, but it would take seconds for me to rescue her. “M… What… no, leave!” I hear Emma say, but not so loud, and not nearly as convincing as needed to be. Her mother looked at Emma, and her gaze over Emma went from top to bottom. I couldn’t imagine what she was supposed to think about it, but she reacted quickly. She reached for the diaper under the pink dress of her stepdaughter, grabbed it and tore it off. I heard, we all heard loudly, the plastic as it was ripped open. The wet diaper was thrown to the ground, with the slightly yellowed insides for all to see. “What… What is this! This dress? What the heck is happening here?” “Mom, no!” I heard Emma yell, now louder. I was still on my way, but I couldn’t prevent Emma being grabbed by her wrist. The pink, frilly dress was now the only thing Emma was wearing. Her stepmother started Emma dragging away, probably because she saw me coming, but Emma tried to resist as much as possible. She was no match though for the bigger and stronger woman. Emma was being pulled forward, with her bare bottom now facing to us. The spanking was still showing a bit, giving her behind a slightly darker color than the rest of her skin. It was also a little bit glistering in the light, as her skin as not entirely dry. “Stop that!” I shouted. “Let her go. You have no business here.” I was now only a few feet away, and I already knew that I could stop them before they were out of my garden. Emma’s stepmother realized that to and she stopped and faced me, but not before she pulled Emma in front of her, as some kind of protection. “I don’t know what is happening here, but I’m stopping it, right here, right now.” She said, as solemnly as she could muster. “Indeed, you don’t know what is happening here, but you are trespassing, Emma is an adult, and she is here voluntarily. So, please let her go, so I can take care of her.” I said. The woman looked at me, both angry and confused. I’m not sure what she expected to see, and what her goal was, but I knew that I was in the right here. “Care? What… You call this… That diaper, what…” She was out of words, but she kept her hand securely around Emma’s wrist. The stepmother was looking for words and not ready to give it up. “Not sure what she is doing here, but I’m not leaving my daughter with a forty-something year old pervert like you.” She looked me in the eyes and pulled Emma even closer. “She is in my care, and belongs with me and my son. Definitely not here, with you.” She kept looking me in the eyes, without fear and full of determination. “And we are leaving her, now. Emma, please get in the car. At home we will get you into some normal clothing again, out of this… this… abomination!” “No, mom… No.” Emma cried softly, but she felt the grip on her wrist get stronger and also felt she was pulled away from me. Emma was clearly afraid, and her eyes found mine. Her face was wet with tears, but suddenly she bowed her head. She didn’t let her stepmother win so easily, and braced herself in the grass. Then Emma’s free hand went to her face, and she tried to hide herself behind it. She made a sharp sound, and then moaned. Both Emma’s stepmother as I were distracted for a moment, and we both seemed to realize what was happening. Emma’s other hand was released and that was also quickly brought in front of her face. But both me and her stepmother didn’t look at her face, we looked at the pee that was coming down between Emma’s legs. At first her legs were closed, and the pee streamed via her inner thigh downwards, but Emma opened her legs, squatted a bit, and the steady stream now flowed directly into the grass. Emma sobbed loudly. I recovered more quickly from this shock than the older woman that was still looking at the wet grass under her stepdaughter. Without checking if Emma was finished or not, I walked up to her and hugged her. I pulled her against me. With a hand on her head I pushed her face gently against my chest, while my other hand lay still on her back. Emma accepted my hug. Her hands found their way around me and touched each other again behind me. The three of us stood there for half a minute, without speaking, speechless. I felt sorry for Emma, but was glad she had chosen me. “Emma? Do you want to stay here? With me?” I asked. I pushed as a little bit apart so I could look her in the eyes. “Or do you want to leave? That’s also OK by me.” I asked her seriously. “But I rather preferred it of you stay.” I whispered with a smile. I didn’t care that Emma’s stepmother could hear that. Emma looked up at me. “I want to stay.” She said to me. Then she turned around to her stepmother. “I’m staying her. Please, go home.” She said. Her stepmother was flabbergasted. Her stepdaughter, who was naked under that silly, frilly dress, made her choice, and eventually she understood that she lost. In a dramatic gesture she threw her hands in the air, turned around. And left. I saw Emma smile. Chapter 19 - Finally “That was scary.” I laughed and tried to deflate the stress situation. Emma looked up at me, and nodded. “I’m glad you chose to stay with me.” I said, and I gave her a new hug. I pulled her close to me for at least half a minute before I let her free again. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.” I said, and this time Emma didn’t object. “But there is something we have to address first.” I reached for the bottom side of the dress and started pulling it up. Emma was shocked as she realized she would be completely undressed. I didn’t hesitate and pulled the dress up until it was above her shoulders. Her arms and head were still trapped in the dress, but from there on down she was completely naked. We weren’t in the middle of the garden anymore, but set apart from the party a bit, but that didn’t mean that everybody was looking at us and was now witness to the naked young lady. I heard Emma protest and moan, but her head slipped out of the dress and eventually also her arms. Emma looked up at me in shock. It was yet another shock after the whole ordure with her stepmother. But with the dress on the ground, next to the ripped up diaper, she was now naked, vulnerable, ashamed, and completely under my thumb. She tried to cover her breasts and her privates with her hands while looking up at me with her face covered in shameful red. I grabbed her by her arm, pulled her a bit forward, and smacked her bottom with my open hand. I did it again, and again. She gave a high pitched scream, but mostly due to the shock. I didn’t think I really hurt her like before, especially because I gave her just three swats. I let her stand up again and put my hand under her chin. I pushed her head backwards so she looked up at me. “I didn’t forget what happened just before your stepmother arrived on the scene.” I said. “If you ever disobey me like that again, and walk away from me. I will not only have to spank your sorry ass until its red and you can’t sit up for a week.” I said out loudly, so not only Emma, but everybody could here. “But I will also keep you in a child’s safety harness with a leash for as long as I deem appropriate, and you will be safely locked in a toddler’s stroller every time we go out.” I saw her face turn even redder as she realized that I would unforgivingly put her on display like that. She bowed her head and apologized softly. “I’m… I am sorry. I… I will obey.” I left her standing like that for a few seconds. I wanted for her to feel a bit lost, and lonely. She was completely naked and all of our colleagues were watching. And all of those colleagues she would be facing again, next week. But by then she wouldn’t be naked anymore, then she would be diapered. “OK, little girl. I’m not mad anymore. This is probably not your last mistake, but you will learn how to behave. Spankings are part of the process, if you like it or not. Do you understand that?” She nodded again. With her head down and her hands covering as much of her private parts as possible, she looked so vulnerable. It couldn’t be easy to give up your old life, and give complete control to someone else. And it all happened in this very short time. She came her as a young woman, not knowing about the plans I had for her. She couldn’t have known about the spanking, the diapers and the crib. There was no way that she knew that without hours after her arrival here she would be diapered and spoon-fed like a toddler. I opened my arms for her. “Come, little girl.” I said softly. I deliberately didn’t walk up to here to give her a comforting hug, I let her come to me. She didn’t hesitate and stepped into my arms. She pushed her naked body against mine, laid her head against my chest, and wrapped her arms around my waist. We stood in silence for almost a minute. She felt cold, not surprisingly, and she warmed herself against me. I decided that it was long enough, that it was time for a diaper, and that is was time for bed. I took her by her hand and led her upstairs. Emma knew where we were heading, and she didn’t resist or linger on the way up. I helped her up the changing table, and although she didn’t look me in the eyes, she seemed not to be too anxious about what was to happen. I cleaned her up with wet-wipes and picked the thickest diaper from the stack. She pulled in her knees without the need for me to ask for it. She let me put the diaper under her, powder her privates, and close the diaper tightly. I then helper her in a body, closing the three snaps between her legs. She was now ready for bed, where her sleeper was waiting. She turned her head and looked at me. I saw tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl?” I asked while I stroked her hair. My other hand was resting on her belly. “Are you maybe a little bit afraid?” Off course she was afraid. She chose to drastically change her life, and put her fate in my hands. I could totally understand her fear. Her future would be totally different than she had planned, and from what she had expected until a few hours ago. “You should be afraid.” I said. “You should be very afraid.” She looked confused, but her face changed as soon as I started to tickle her. “I will tickle you to death!” She screamed in surprise while my fingers protruded her body. Her hands were no longer behind her head, but were desperately trying to stop my hands. But she couldn’t stop it. My hands were too fast and merciless. It didn’t take long before she couldn’t stop laughing and the tears in her cheeks were replaced with tears of joy. I stopped when she was gasping for air and the few seconds of wild uncontrolled body reflexes left her face sweaty. I still smiled, but now her bad thoughts for slowly coming back again. I opened the drawer and selected a big dummy from the selection I had bought for her earlier. I held the dummy for her mouth and for a moment I thought she was going to refuse it. But she opened her mouth and accepted the dummy. I saw a hint of a surprise on her face when she closed her mouth around the dummy and she seemed to realize that it fitted comfortably. And that it was even a nice feeling to suck on the dummy. I smiled and kissed her on her forehead. “You are a silly little girl.” I said. “You shouldn’t worry about a thing. I will take care of you.” With that I pushed my arms under her and carried her to her crib. I had her in her sleeper within seconds. I didn’t need to lock the sleeper this time as I knew she wouldn’t try to escape. I pointed at the camera above her feet, pointing to her face. “I will be looking after you.” I said, and tried to sell it as something comforting, and not as threat. I kissed her again on the forehead, and Emma took her pacifier out for a moment and kissed me on my cheek. She immediately pushed the pacifier back in her mouth. “Are you comfortable?” I asked, and she nodded. “Will you give me a nice wet diaper to change before I go to bed tonight?” She nodded again, with a slight blush. I laughed out loud when I saw her blush. “You don’t need to be ashamed of a wet diaper, little girl.” I said while I pulled the side of her crib up. “You are in diapers full-time now, little girl.” Little Emma was now safely surrounded by bars.” The front side of the bed locked in place with a loud click. Emma looked at me through the wooden bars. She already knew she would be in diapers, but only now she seemed to really realize what that meant. “No more potty for this little girl. I will need to change your wet and poopy diapers from now on.” I laughed again, turned around and left her behind. I closed the curtains, left the nursery, and closed the door. Emma was my little girl now!

So I am trying to find ways so avoid leaks because my member likes to move around in the diaper which can lead to leaks. I came across an article about tucking and decided to give it a try. so, for those who don’t know the particulars, this is where you tuck your scrotum up onto your body and then pull your penis backwards between your legs. I am not trans but I figured maybe it will help. the experience was so DIFFERENT! Normally my urine starts in the lower front of the diaper until it leaks out the top or sides. This time, however, the stream went straight back, almost like when I am lying on my back in bed. As I urinated throughout the morning, the back continued to fill until it pushed to the front, the inverse of what usually happens. It’s such a weird sensation and I fell I DID get more out of it. has anyone else done this?

Chapter 111: The Trial of the Century There I was, again: waiting in the school clinic, awaiting a rigged trial while Brollish worked sight unseen to ensure my doom and damnation. The key difference between this time and the last was that I definitely needed that fresh diaper that the nurse kept on the corner of her desk. That and I had actually done what I was being accused of. I’d rushed up to another teacher and sucker punched her right in her schnoz. Then she’d smacked me so hard I saw stars and spanked me within an inch of my life. In the chaos of it all, students and ex-coworkers had been drawn out of their classrooms and witnessed the thrashing of my lifetime. There was no getting around this. There was no way out. I was done. The best case scenario was that I would get expelled and Janet would find me a full time private babysitter. No daycare would take a Little with a documented history of violence against Amazons. The only place that would is a place I’d never want to visit. Maybe Jessica would do it, I fantasized. She wouldn’t be so bad. She was something of a trust fund baby anyways, so she could afford to hang out with me for free everyday; at least until the end of the school year. She wanted to be a teacher, too, and talked to me more like I was an adult (or at least a very smart child) than most. It wouldn’t be spending my afternoons with Melony sipping on coffee, but it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Yeah. That could be nice. I shuddered as the most intrusive thought burrowed into my brain: What if Janet didn’t have a choice but to send me to New Beginnings? Yes, she was my legal guardian, my Mommy, but wasn’t it possible to take that away from her? All it had taken was some typing on a keyboard to get my adulthood revoked and have me shoved into her arms. Would it really take much more to declare Janet an unfit parent and then rip me out of those arms so that I could be re-raised in a so-called proper setting? “Shhhhhhh,” Janet hushed me, rubbing my back and stroking my hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. Mommy’s here. You’re safe.” I wasn’t safe. I just wasn’t being beat anymore. She cradled me, and bobbed me like I was still screaming, but I had been almost completely silent from the moment I’d caught my breath. Based on her heart rate, her behavior was more to hide her own shaking. She was just as afraid as me. Angry too. She was just doing her damndest to hide it from me. She didn’t want her ‘baby’ to see her this upset. It made sense that she was upset, though. Everything was coming undone, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing anyone could do. After Tracy saved me, events sped up and proceeded in an almost maniacal clockwork fashion. Brollish power walked out, flanked by Forrest and every spare hand in the front office and guidance. They took Ambrose away to the teacher’s lounge in the cafeteria, still nursing the bloody nose I gave her. I hoped she was telling the truth. Janet blitzed out of her classroom the second her students could be shuttled off to other teachers in her building. Word spread that fast. Or maybe she’d been in the crowd that saw the aftermath of my stunt. Things were still kind of fuzzy. Tracy handed me off to Janet and took control of the preschool class, expertly diffusing outraged cries from Mrs. Dunwhich. Tracy’s man mountain of a husband stalked off to the front office, a man on a warpath, and Beouf gave Tracy the bare bones of what she’d seen while Zoge did her best to regain control and herd the other Littles away. We were waiting in the clinic for about ten minutes for the school nurse to come back from the cafeteria. My left hand was starting to swell, and bruising discoloration was popping up above and below my backside. Every part of my body that Ambrose had connected with was throbbing, the right side of my face included. The real pain happened in between the throbs; in the seconds before the aching blunt sensations crescendoed to the point where it was hard to think. When it hurt so bad that I had to close my eyes and hold my breath, I had something to focus on; something to not think about. It was on the back end, as waves of physical discomfort receded back down and I was able to think as myself that I felt despair. We were fucked. We were fucked and I’d been the one to fuck it all up. As recently as last week, I might have been proud of that. I’d burned the world to the ground around me one last time, blaze of glory as the explosions consumed me. Unfortunately, my friendships had started to grow back like weeds in the garden of my life; seemingly nourished by the manure that had been dumped all over it. And here I was about to lose them all over again. Tracy; Beouf; my students; maybe even Janet. I was going to lose Zoge and Ivy as well. Billy, Chaz, and Annie were bastards but they were my bastards. Tommy too. I’d miss the other kids in Beouf’s class. If nothing else they were a good challenge to poke at and gauge how far I was pushing things. Would I even get a chance to say goodbye? What about Amy? What about Pink Hair or the Block Guys, or Wutzhisname? Would I still get to see her once a week or would Janet stop going to Little Voices meetings, too overwhelmed by everything? Would I still have her after today? Fuck, what had happened in my life that I counted a bunch of baby crazy Amazons and Adopted Littles in various states of emotional and cognitive decay as friends?! The nurse walked in and went straight to the sink. “Good,” she said to Janet. “You’re already here.” She started washing her hands and putting on disposable gloves. She motioned with her head over to a vinyl backed medical couch; normally just used for children to nap on while waiting for parents to pick them up if they had a fever or had puked. “Lay him down there and get him undressed.” Janet’s head turned to the still-open door. “Can we get some privacy? Maybe do this in the bathroom?” “I’m a nurse, Ms. Grange. Clark doesn’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” “I meant from others,” Janet said. “I don’t want other children coming in.” More to the point, the clinic was attached to the front office, and very close to the receptionist area by design. The nurse sighed tiredly but put some artificial empathy into her tone. “Good point. Wouldn’t want any of the other kids to worry too much.” Translation: Wouldn’t want any extra sympathy to spread or parents to get involved in the wake of my upcoming expulsion. Carrying me, Janet closed the door and locked it, then she laid me down on the soft medical mattress and began to undress me. I shivered, as she popped open the romper button by button, peeling the green and blue striped garment off of me. I’d broken out into just enough of a sweat to make myself uncomfortable and cold in the air conditioning. Even on the overly padded surface, a changing table pretending to be a mattress, I groaned and winced with my weight shifting and being moved around. The nurse shuffled over and took a knee to examine me more closely. “Mmm-mmm-mmm…” she said. “You really did quite a number on yourself.” “On himself?” Janet cocked an eyebrow. “Just a turn of phrase, ma’am.” I made eye contact with my caregiver. “Just a turn of phrase, Mommy,” I echoed a warning. This lady spent all her time in close proximity to Brollish and Forrest. Pretty easy to guess where her sympathies lay. Anything we said could and would be used in the kangaroo court of law. “I’m going to look at his hand, alright?” the nurse said. She inched her hand closer to mine, but waited for Janet to give permission. “Ask him, too.” Janet told her. The slightest sharpest inhale, and then. “Clark, honey? I’m going to take a look at your hurt hand, okay?” I nodded. I flinched as she gingerly poked and squeezed at my bruising left hand. “Tell me if it hurts.” “Ow,” I said. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.” She worked her tongue in her mouth and wiggled her nose with every ‘ow’. “Good news is I don’t think it’s broken, just really really bruised. What did you hit, kiddo?” “I don’t know,” I lied automatically. “He might not have hit anything,” Janet said. “Ambrose might have hit him there or he might have hit it on the ground when she dropped him.”This was a bold face lie and Janet knew it! If half of my face hadn’t been on fire, my own surprise would have betrayed me. Luckily, the nurse wasn’t looking at my face, just then. She doubled back to the sink and opened a cabinet, returning with what looked something like a giant aqua-marine tape measure. She flipped open the top like it a massive box of dental floss and pulled out a length of thick moist ribbon. “This bandage is covered with some powerful numbing nanites,” she said. “This should also help bring down the swelling.’ She started wrapping my hand in the wet stuff, binding my entire left hand in a mummy’s mitten. “Does that feel better, hon?” I swallowed my pride and let out a pitiful, “Uh-huh.” It really did too. The cold wetness of the stuff seeped into my skin and numbed everything and the air dried the outside. Ten seconds after she cut the soggy tape off, the pain in my hand was gone. The nurse tossed the first pair of gloves, washed her hands, and then pulled on a second pair. “In a few hours that hand is gonna ache again,” she said. “Baby aspirin or some other children’s pain killer will help over the next day or two. Just make sure he’s not crawling around on it or banging on it for fun. It’s like the dentist where he doesn’t feel it now, he will feel it later.” “Got it,” Janet replied. Then, to me she asked, “Got it, Clark?” “Yeah,” I sighed. “I got it.” “You may want to put on some gloves,” the nurse advised Janet. She put the bandages back and took out a tube of cream. “Let’s take care of some of those other owies.” I chomped down on my tongue. The last time I’d seen a tube like that was after I’d been zapped and ninety-nine percent of my body hair had been scorched off. I was already breaking orders by unconsciously digging my hands into the couch, gripping it like it was an animal whose guts I could rip out. “You take care of the bottom, and I’ll take care of the top?” the nurse offered. Janet sanitized her hands, but only put on one glove. She grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket and held it very close to my face. “Sure thing,” she said. “Juuuuust a second.” There was a clicking sound. “Roll over on your belly for me, Clark.” I did. Then another several clicks. “What are you doing?” the nurse asked. “Documentation,” Janet said. “That cream helps repair the skin, doesn’t it? Gets rid of bruising and discoloration?” The nurse only smiled and said “Ah.” I rolled back over and stared at the ceiling while one giant dabbed numbing cream onto my face, while the other ripped open my diaper and wiped my backside. “Hold still, bubba,” I heard, before my legs were lifted up and I heard a few more clicks from her camera. “You must have fallen really hard on your face, Clark” the nurse pretended to muse. “Did you trip while you were running around?” “He didn’t trip,” Janet’s voice had turned to ice. She was still changing me, spreading that goop filled with pain numbing nanites in it and slipping the fresh Monkeez underneath me. But her voice was looking for a fight. “That’s where Ambrose started beating him.” The nurse was still playing defense for Administration. “How can you tell? Kids trip and fall all the time. Accidents happen.” Janet taped me back up and rolled me over. “Concrete doesn’t leave hand prints.” “Ah.” A tense two minutes later, I was sitting back up and having a hand mirror shoved in my face. There was some slight discoloration, a bit of red irritation on my face, but it didn’t look like a bear had tried to maul me. I’d fallen asleep on my side in the sun and barely avoided a proper sunburn. My left hand was bandaged up in bright colors, but the right side of my face, back, thighs, and buttocks looked like I had the barest beginnings of diaper rash. Nothing a bit of makeup wouldn’t fix, or even just dimming the lights. My damage was highlighted. Ambrose’s was faded. Typical. “Thank you, Mommy,” I said, looking at the bulge in Janet’s pocket. “You’re very welcome, sweetie.” Janet told me. She started dressing me back up. “You don’t have to do that,” the nurse said. “I know,” Janet replied. “Just easier for the trip home.” “Trip home?” the nurse asked. “School’s not over yet.” “I’m leaving early.” Her eyes were focused on me, and buttoning up all of the snaps on the aired out romper, but her body was tense. Waiting for the challenge. It came. “That might not be such a good idea,” the nurse said. “I have a feeling Mrs. Brollish will need to talk to him. She’s doing interviews right now to figure out what happened. Make sure she gets all sides of the story.” “It’s okay, Mommy,” I said, playing the perfect Little angel that I most certainly wasn’t. Only the guilty run, and running wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “I can stay.” Janet gave my forehead another kiss, and picked me up. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you back to class.” “Actually…” the nurse interjected, opening the clinic door again. “He should probably stay here. Might not be safe to let him back in the classroom.” “It’s his naptime. I’ve got a pack and play in my room, still,” Janet offered. The nurse gave a pleasant, yet hollow smile. “That’s not a good idea, either. Let’s just keep him here. He can sleep on my couch if he needs to.” “I’m not sleepy,” I said. The Amazons went forward in the conversation without me. “You’re free to go back to your room to teach, Ms. Grange. I don’t mind watching him.” They didn’t want me and Janet alone. Didn’t want either of us unsupervised or unaccounted for. Janet sat down in one of the chairs and held me in her lap, wrapping her arms around me, afraid that I might float away from her. “We’ll wait here, then.” I felt another kiss on the top of my head. I really wanted Lion right then. I settled for reaching down and gripping the side of Janet’s lap with my good hand and sucking on my pacifier. Our first few visitors were students. Nothing major. Just kids getting afternoon medication and the like. One kid stopped and interrogated Janet. “Is he sick?” that sort of thing. Nothing that couldn’t be shooed away, with the worst one being a fourth grader that couldn’t resist saying “feel better”. But then a familiar tone in a language I still barely understood came swinging into the clinic. Ivy waddled hand in hand with her mother past the clinic, but her head turned to the side and peaked in. We made eye contact. “Clark!” She slipped out of Zoge’s grasp, climbed up on top of a neighboring seat. “Ivy!” Janet laughed. “What are you doing?” As an answer, the Little Yamatoan gently leaned over and wrapped her arms around me. Light as a feather, she applied the barest bit of pressure so that I could sense the loving intent. “Ivy,” Zoge said, her voice retaining its innate musicality. “Make good choices.” Ivy stood back up and hopped back down. “Yes, Mommy.” “Hana,” Janet giggled, forgetting the perilous position we were in. “What’s going on?” Zoge picked her daughter up, and positioned her on her hip. “It seems our children are picking up bad habits from one another,” she said, cryptically. “No, I mean, what are you doing here?” “Ah,” Zoge nodded. “Mrs. Brollish wishes to interview everyone she can that witnessed...” a beat of hesitation, a glance at the nurse, “the incident. Ivy and I were reporting what we saw happen. Mrs. Beouf and Miss Tracy are watching the children. I am on my way to relieve them so that Mrs. Beouf can report. We’re already calling parents to inform them what happened and to have them come and pick up their children early.” “Oh,” Janet said. “Alright.” “Good luck,” Zoge said. “And see you tomorrow, Clark.” That earned her an upturned eyebrow from the nurse. Speaking of the nurse, both Ivy and Zoge’s back was to the woman. “I’m sorry, Clark. You taught me to never ask for a hug without permission.” The way she said it sounded rehearsed and phony. She did something with her eye, too. Did…did Ivy just wink at me?! “Ivy,” Zoge said, then she said something in Yamatoan. Probably the word for ‘quiet’. “Sorry, Mommy.” “Good luck,” Zoge said, and then slipped with her daughter back out into the reception area and out the door. Calling parents. Interviewing students and teachers. Sequestering witnesses. Interrupting afternoon classes. Brollish was in high gear; full damage control. She wanted this over now; after school just wouldn’t do. I’d probably just ruined her day; so I at least had that going for me. A brief knock on the side of the door, and Emiliano came striding in. The top of his head didn’t quite touch the massive frame, but he ducked out of habit. “Hey, Jefe,” he said, his hoarse yet friendly growl just above a stage whisper. “How you holdin’ up?” “He’s fine,” Janet said. “He got hurt, but he’ll be okay.” I’m not sure how it’s possible to give someone the side eye when they’re standing directly in front of them, but Tracy’s husband found a way. “I’m shook,” I said. “But I’ll heal.” Emiliano hunkered down on the balls of his feet. “Good. Good. You took a heck of a whoopin’.” A mischievous grin played at the corners of his mouth. “It’s a good thing you’re not taller or I might be scared of you.” I chuckled. The biggest man I’d ever met just told me that I took a beating like a champ. How could I not? “Sir,” the nurse tried to interrupt. unless you’re a parent or a teacher, you need to leave.” He waved her off. “Mmmhmm. Sure. Uno momento.” “What are you doing here?” I asked. He ran his hands through his thick black hair. “I was here to help Tracy quit,” he said. “Bring her in. Let her talk. Bring her out. No funny business. Comprende?” A rock dropped in my stomach. “Yeah,” I said. “I understand.” “Yeah,” the big man nodded sympathetically, “Good thing we saw you, first, eh?” I jolted up in Janet’s lap. “You mean…?” I dared to hope. “Tracy’s staying?” “Sir…” the nurse tried to catch Emiliano’s attention. She went ignored by all of us. He shrugged. “Depends.” “On what?” Janet asked. She squeezed me a little tighter. I squeezed back. “On how scary I was,” Emiliano flashed his teeth. “How smart Brollish is. If Tracy wants to keep coming here.” “Sir. You need to-” Emiliano stood back up to his full height and the nurse stopped talking. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’m going.” A boulder sized fist floated down to me. “You stay strong, eh, Jefe?” I took my good hand and bumped it against his. “Right on. See you around, Boss. I’ll stop by your class and tell her you said ‘Hello’ before I go.” The nurse was visibly relieved when she heard the exit door swing open. Right on the man mountain’s heels, Beouf popped in, holding of all things, a baby bottle. It wasn’t filled with milk, exactly; none of the overly processed cow stuff from the cafeteria. This stuff had more of a creamy tint to it. More off-white than white. Kind of like goat’s milk. “Hey,” she said, quietly. “How you holding up?” “We’re fine,” Janet said just as softly. “Got some owies but they’re taken care of for now.” My old mentor nodded. “Good.” Everyone was talking so low right now, afraid of saying something too loud or having something overheard. All parties on both sides of this trial were in cloak and dagger mode. Nobody wanted the other to hear something they shouldn’t, and both words and the volume that they were spoken at were being chosen very carefully. She looked at me and shook the bottle. “Do you want a bottle, buddy?” Janet reached for it instead. I looked up at her and caught a mixture of concern and confusion. “The bottle is yours,” Beouf said. “I popped by your room and grabbed it out of a mini fridge.” “Oh,” was all Janet said. I felt her entire body heat up for some reason. “Goat’s milk.” Some combination of looming existential dread and topically applied pain killers kept me from questioning why Janet would have goat’s milk at school. She couldn’t even remember to bring the diaper bag half the time. In hindsight… “If you want, we can start stocking it in my room,” Beouf plowed over the thoughts that wouldn’t quite come to me. “Give it to him for snack time or something. Take it with us to lunch.” “Lunch?” I echoed. Did Beouf really think that I’d be back for lunch this time tomorrow? “We’ll still have to keep it in the classroom,” my oldest friend said. “You know how the cafeteria folks are. They don’t like holding onto anything that isn’t theirs. It’s already a stretch to get them to wash and dry the bibs everyday.” There was a nervous frenetic energy underpinning Beouf’s speech. It had the cadence of someone on death row talking about what they were doing tomorrow. We weren’t going to win this, but she was going to go down kicking and screaming with me anyways. “Yeah,” Janet said. “I’d like that.” “What’s going on?” I asked. Beouf looked down and crossed her arms. “What’s going on is that I’m kinda miffed at you, young man.” She switched instantly to her stern teacher tone. It was the worst kind, too. Not mad…just disappointed. “You made me a promise, and broke it.” I was leaning back into Janet before I realized it, trying to bury the back of my head in her so that she would somehow magically envelop me. “What promise?” Janet asked. The volume of conversation had jumped up more than a notch. Anyone listening in would barely need to strain to overhear. The nurse looked up from her desk again, her fingers drifting over to the computer keyboard. “We had a talk this morning about following rules and procedures, didn’t we, Clark?” My face burned hot and I stared down at my knees. “Yes ma’am.” “And who got out of line when they shouldn’t have?” “I did.” “And do we get out of line when we’re transitioning from the cafeteria to the classroom?” “No ma’am…” “And did you?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Should you have?” “No ma’am.” “What do you say?” I swallowed my pride. It was the least I could do. “Sorry, Mrs. B. Sorry, Mommy.” I braced myself for the next question. Something about controlling my temper or not letting bullies get the best of me. No such line of questioning came. All that happened was Melony ruffled my hair. “Mrs. B. is still upset with your choices,” she said, “but she still loves you very much.” I mumbled something. It might have been “I love you, too”. The bottle’s rubber nipple brushed against my cheek. “Drink your bottle, hon.” I accepted the bottle, and Janet jostled me around so that I was cradled again. Letting her hold it for me was easier with my injured hand. Our breathing started to sync up while the cool creamy milk filled my mouth. Waves of relaxation started to settle into me. My pulse dropped as my belly filled. I wasn’t even that thirsty, but the behavior mixed with the body heat and the familiar flavor mingled together to give me a sense of calm. I wasn’t about to get expelled. I was just chugging my own version of a breakfast shake first thing in the morning. Or having liquid desert right before a weekend nap. Speaking of breakfast shake, something was off about the flavor of this batch. It was actually a little too creamy; with something unnatural about it. I pulled back and threw my head out so that I could get the nipple out of my mouth. “Vanilla?” Beouf blushed. “I hope you don’t mind. I put some syrup in from the coffee mix.” It was directed at Janet, not me. “It’s fine,” Janet sighed. “I just want today to be over.” “You and me, both,” Beouf agreed. “You and me, both.” In the far distance, past the reception area, the sound of a heavy door slamming closed and equally heavy footsteps registered. Someone was making a very loud exit from Brollish’s office. Probably not Brollish from the sound of it. That witch could glide across the floor. “That’s my cue.” Beouf said. “Time to put out some more fires. Wish me luck.” “Good luck,” Janet said while I took the bottle back in my mouth. Beouf brushed shoulders with the next visitor in my own private cell. “I just got done talking to that principal of yours,” Martha Dunwhich said to the nurse. Her hair was frizzier and her face was still red, but her eyes weren’t puffy and her makeup was intact. She’d been yelling and she wasn’t done. She slammed her palms on the nurse’s desk and leaned over so she could shout directly into the other woman’s face. “Are you also going with the story that a Little broke that awful woman’s nose?!” “I”m not allowed to divulge that information,” the nurse replied, coldly. Dunwhich wasn’t having it. “You examined her. Is her nose even broken? Let me see her! I bet she just got kicked” “I’m not allowed to divulge that information.” “You expect me to believe that a grown woman was attacked?” Dunwhich shrieked. “Attacked by…by…a baby?!” “Ahem…” Janet cleared her throat. The Amazon turned around with a sneer. “Wh-?” Then immediately melted when she saw me her shriek turned to a squeak. “Awwwww!” My entire body tensed. Feeling it, Janet drew me in closer, cradling me so that half of my vision was obscured by her breasts. It was a nicer view than I’d been previously treated to. Dunwhich trotted over to Janet, her eyes white saucers. “You poor dear!” she gushed. “You’ve had quite a day haven’t you?” Uninvited, she took the seat next to Janet. “Does it hurt bad, baby boy?” “Hello,” Janet said. “Do we know you?” Dunwhich regained her composure. “No. Not at all. Martha Dunwhich, pleasure to meet you.” She extended her arm out. “My hands are full,” Janet said just warmly enough to not put the other woman off. I.E.P. meetings or not, teaching is too often a customer service industry as much as anything. Janet had that skill set on lock. The start of this nightmare took her hand back. “Of course,” she said. “Of course. I met your Little boy right as he had his first accident.” Not this story again. I kept my eyes straight up so I wouldn’t roll them. “You’re his Mommy?” “Thank goodness!” Martha Dunwhich said. “For a second I was worried that…that…that bully had Adopted him and that’s why she was spanking him.” Janet shifted in her seat subtly, so that her knees were starting to face away from the other woman. “So do you know Clark besides that?” “Oh no, no, no,” Dunwhich corrected herself. “I haven’t seen him since. That and today. I gave his class some extra cupcakes! He was so cute!” Her hands fidgeted her lap, like she was just envisioning reaching out and pinching me on the cheek again. “So well behaved too! A bit rambunctious and silly, but that’s natural for them.” I sucked on the milk harder, almost wanting to gag myself. Janet’s face was a placid lake, but based on the subtle shifting in her lap, I had a feeling we were in this boat together. For once, the whole ‘seen and not heard’ thing was playing to my advantage. I didn’t want to talk to this woman. Oblivious to our own discomfort, Dunwhich continued to yammer. “I’m going to have to go home, and explain to Emily why hitting Littles is wrong, now. She’s probably traumatized, watching your poor sweet boy get…” She topped. “You know what I mean.” “I do,” Janet said evenly. “And that principal is making up some story like he hit her!” I stopped the flow of milk with my tongue. What was she talking about? She was there when I marched right up to Ambrose and threw my whole weight into that punch. “As if such a sweet Little boy would purposefully attack an adult!” Except she wasn’t! She’d been handing out those cupcakes on the side of the cafeteria, while Ambrose had been dressing Elmer down- literally- around the corner closer to the front entrance! Could it be? Had the angles accidentally worked in my favor?! “Hmmm…” was all that Janet said. “He might have been a tad naughty and excited! But he didn’t deserve that!” “Ma’am,” the nurse said. “You really shouldn’t be-” “I shouldn’t what?” Dunwhich turned on Brollish’s eyes and ears here. “Tell the truth?” She took out her phone. “I saw the whole thing and filmed it! Right in front of the kids, this abusive monster just picks up a baby and STARTS…!” She looked at me again and lowered her voice. “I’ve already told her. If that brute is in Emily’s classroom tomorrow morning, I’m pulling my daughter out and taking this to the School Board.” I let the milk flow again. Administrators feared two things: Angry Parents and School Board members. If I was going down, I was happy to know I was taking Ambrose down with me. But maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t going down, either. “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Dunwhich said. “I’ve got to get my daughter out of here. I hope things turn out okay for you and your Little.” One of the pushiest Amazons I’d ever encountered (and that was saying a lot) showed herself out, and left me to finish the bottle and be burped in relative privacy with only the nurse for silent company. “You’re gonna be fine,” Janet whispered over and over again, patting and rubbing at my back. “You’re gonna be fine.” She didn’t fully believe it either. Some unexpected blessings were blowing our way but we were far from out of the woods. I belched without complaint, doing everything I could not to make things more difficult than they were. Beouf came back in, only poking her head through the open door. “Come on,” she whispered. “It’s almost time.” Janet carried me past reception on her hip. Beouf lead the way, despite us all knowing where we were headed. “Won’t be long. We’ve only got one person ahead of us.” Like a shadow, the nurse followed us, keeping her distance but still doing her level best to mind anyone’s business but her own. We still couldn’t speak freely. We were waiting in the hallway just outside of Brollish’s office, when a mighty need came over me; one that had nothing to do with bodily functions or autonomy. “Can you please put me down?” I asked Janet, tapping her on her shoulder. “I need to walk into the office.” “Why?” “I just…I just do, okay?” That was good enough for Janet. She set me down softly on the carpet, leaning over so she could still hold my good hand. I gave hers a squeeze. She squeezed back. The door opened slowly and quietly. Out of the office came two relatively tiny figures. They were a mother and son; Tweeners. The Mom was about the same height as Tracy, but skinnier, practically stick like, her face wrinkled prematurely with the constant worry lines of someone walking life’s tightrope. There were a handful of fifth-graders taller than her. By graduation, that number would shoot up with growth-spurts and early onset puberty. The boy, a four year old, and because of his heritage, he was one of the few students that I was still slightly taller than. “Mr. Gibson?” Elmer asked. “Hey, buddy.” I waved meekly, trying not look as ridiculous as I felt right then. Elmer’s face scrunched up and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. His face turned pinker and pinker and tears started dripping down his cheeks before finally a tea kettle of a wail issued forth from his throat. Oh no! Not again! I stared at the floor, ashamed at the monster I’d become to my own student. He couldn’t even look at me without breaking down into a panic attack. I gripped the pacifier dangling from my collar and considered shoving it into my mouth. Or would that make things worse? Two arms, slightly pudgy with baby fat wrapped around my torso and a not-quite kindergartener’s head buried itself in my shoulder. “THANKYOOOOOOOOU!” Elmer bawled into me. “TH-TH-TH-TH-THANKYOOOOOOOOOOOU!” “Thank you?” my voice started to crack. “Elmer? B-b-buddy. What are you-? Why are you-? Why?” “I’M SORRRRRRRRRRRY! I’M SORRY! I’M S-S-S-SORRRRRRY! I’M SO S-S-SORRY!” I dislodged my arms from the tiny Tweener’s grip, just so that I could hug him back with all the strength I had left in my body. “It’s okay, buddy,” I whispered. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Nothing.” “Awwwwww,” Beouf loudly cooed over me. “Looks like you finally got that hug you were both looking for. Isn’t that sweet?” “Yeah,” Janet’s voice cracked. “It really is.” Their comments went completely over my head. My entire focus on the child who needed me right then and there. “I LOVE YOU, MR. GIBSON!” Elmer blubbered. “I LOVE YOU! I’M SORRY! I LOVE YOU! I! LOVE! YOOOOU! THANK YOOOOOOU!” I’d done a lot of crying since my Adoption. A lot. A lot, a lot. I’d shed more tears in the last several weeks than I had in the several decades prior. The freedom to scream and shout and cry at every thing that vexed me was one of the few freedoms I was still permitted. One type of crying that I hadn’t done a whole lot of, however, was happy crying. My face broke out into the biggest, mushiest, dopiest grin, and as my eyes scrunched together, the drops of water came out as if squeezed from a nearly wrung out sponge. For a moment, just for a moment, I was my old self. I was a teacher, an adult giving comfort to a poor child who was overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the past few hours. For just a second, I was Clark Gibson, preschool teacher, and it was the greatest goddamn feeling in the world. “It’s okay, buddy,” I said as calmly as I could, my voice fluctuating with the tightness of my throat. I just kept rubbing his back in the same way that Janet had taken to rubbing mine. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” For just a bit, I believed my own lie. His mother’s hand landed softly on his shoulder. “Okay, Elmer. It’s time to go home.” Elmer stepped back from me and wiped his nose on his shirt. “But-!” “You were a good boy and told Mrs. Brollish what you know,” his mother said. “Now it’s time to go.” Always more mature for his age than people gave him credit for, Elmer sniffled, wiped his nose on his own shirt, and took his mother’s hand. “Bye.” I wiped my own nose on my bicep. “Bye, bud.” The pair walked out into the empty reception area and off into the front parking lot just by the bus loop. Janet knelt down and brushed away my own tears. “You okay?” she asked. I shook my head. “No. Not really. But I don’t have a choice right now, do I?” My Mommy’s lip quivered like she was about to start. “No. I don’t think we do. Come on.” Flanked by Beouf, Janet and I walked into Brollish’s office hand in hand. Brollish didn’t get up from her desk. Scooted off to the side, was another older woman staring dutifully down at her county issued laptop and typing up a storm. “Ms. Grange. Clark. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the familiar face. “Miss Bankhead, our Resource Compliance Specialist, is here simply to record.” Bankhead acknowledged our presence with the briefest glimpse. “Hello.” Then she went back to typing as if she were a court stenographer. The flaps in Brollish’s throat went taut as she craned her neck over us. “Mrs. Beouf, would you please shut the door on your way out?” Beouf shut the door, but joined us by the seat next to where Janet and I were standing. “I’m here as a representative and advocate.” “Of?” “I’m Clark’s teacher, and Ms. Grange’s union representative. I have every right to be here if Janet as either the child’s legal guardian or faculty member allows me to be.” Janet sat down and pulled me into her lap. “Yes, please. Thank you,” she said immediately. Beouf did not take the seat beside us, yet. She was staring at Brollish, the old crone busy making calculations. “You weren’t here for Ivy,” Brollish said. “Mrs. Zoge is both her mother and a school employee,” Beouf said matter of factly. “You needed at least one adult minding my class.” There was a moment of clacking on Bankhead’s laptop. “Correct? We have that in writing? We still have that in the email you sent to me immediately after and the notes from when we talked?” Brollish didn’t respond, but Bankhead gave a subtle head bob in the affirmative. “You weren’t here for the last student I interviewed,” Brollish tried. Beouf pushed her glasses up my nose. “Elmer is not my student. He had his mother with him. Beyond basic supervisory duties to ensure his safety that all faculty and staff have, I have no connection with him or his mother.” Brollish tried a verbal parry. “So are you saying I should have let Miss Ambrose be present when I spoke privately to Elmer and his mother?” I winced at the idea. “I am saying that I have the right to be here if my student’s parent or guardian requests it.” Janet spoke up. “I request it.” “Will you be doing this for all of your students if their parents request it?” Brollish asked, her face a grim mask. Now that we were in there, the entire office was smelling strongly of potpourri; dead flowers meant to cover up the smell of rotting flesh held together by a wicked soul. Maybe that was just my imagination. Like the last time, I decided to sit back and trust my mentor. “If they ask me, yes,” Beouf said. “Assuming you feel the need to interview eight other Littles about what a member of staff did.” A lump moved from one cheek to another with Brollish sliding her tongue all around her teeth behind closed lips. “Are you sure you’re allowed to be here, Mrs. Beouf? I’m not sure this is necessary.” Janet adjusted me on her lap. “I would like to also officially request union representation,” Janet said. “And for Mrs. Beouf to remain as a witness to go over the notes with Miss Bankhead and ensure that digital and hard copies are sent out to the necessary parties.” Brollish’s face had barely shifted. Through half closed eyes she said, “Do you really think union representation is necessary for this, Mrs. Grange? This is a conference and investigation concerning Clark’s behavior this afternoon. You’re not here as a teacher.” “Can you guarantee in writing that nothing said here will directly affect evaluations as a teacher?” Beouf butted in. “If he’s suspended or expelled, are you going to hold it against her taking time off to see to his needs? Or can you assure us that such penalties are off the table?” I focused on the little hairs of Brollish’s upper lips, checking across the room to see if they were still moving; hoping that maybe the old bat had died sitting down with her eyes open. “You’re very welcome to join us, Mrs. Beouf.” Beouf sat down next to us. Too bad the additional context as to why she was allowed to sit was the exact opposite of comforting. “Much appreciated,” my old friend said. “Thank you.” A thin smile that came nowhere close to her eyes creaked up Brollish’s skull. “You’re very welcome.” Her eyes moved over to Janet’s lap. “Clark?” I waited for her to say something. Several seconds ticked by. She didn’t. “Yes, ma’am?” “Why did you punch Mrs. Ambrose in the nose?” “We don’t know that he did,” Beouf interrupted before I could react. The slightest eyebrow raise from across the table. “Don’t we?” “Not as far as I’m aware,” Beouf fired back with equal calmness. “Are you accusing him of something?” “Mrs. Ambrose is on record saying Clark ran at her screaming, and punched her right in the face as she was bending over to get at eye level with another student,” Brollish explained. Funny thing is that it was true. “Her nose is broken. That’s good enough for me.” “How do we know that he did it on purpose?” Beouf asked. “He could have accidentally hit her when she started spanking him.” “Why would she spank him then?” “That doesn’t matter,” Beouf said. “That’s not something that is allowed, not without written parental permission.” “I did not and do not give permission.” Janet added. Like a chess player viewing the board, Brollish put her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers in concentration. “It’s true,” the crone admitted, “that corporal punishment is frowned upon. Certain bits of wiggle room are permissible in the name of self-defense.” “Self-defense?!” Janet sneered. “You’re kidding. Self? Defense? From a Little? A Maturosis Little? A baby?” “Maturosis or not,” Brollish replied, “I can’t allow a student on this campus who is a danger to others. An unprovoked attack on a faculty member is by definition dangerous. An entire afternoon of instruction has been lost because my preschool teacher has a broken nose.” “If you take her word for it,” Janet snipped, barely keeping her cool. “Why would I take the word of a child over an adult?” Brollish came back icily. “Not only a child, but someone I had to fire due to breach of contract?” My everything was getting ready to burst with how angry I was. I must have passed that energy into Janet because she said, “You haven’t even heard his word, yet!” “Janet…!” Beouf warned too late. “Yes,” Brollish pretended to agree. “Let’s hear what Clark has to say for himself. Clark? Please. Tell us in your own words. What happened?” I so wanted to shout every obscenity over at Brollish. She had me over a barrel and she knew it. Elmer had said what happened. So had Ivy. Both had the mindsets of literal children. Brollish just wanted to catch me in a lie or get me to confess. I needed to scream. I needed to thrash. I needed to think. I needed time. A fullness in my gut, newly irritated by the addition of heavy cream and vanilla, no doubt, made me need to do something else. I inhaled. Fuck it. Might as well. I leaned forward, stared off into the middle distance directly in front of Brollish, pretended I was giving her the middle finger, and filled my pants up sitting in Janet’s lap. It was easy since I’d had so much practice. After the initial three second push, my body sped right past the point of no return and a veritable mudslide gushed out of me and into the seat of my Monkeez. “Is he…?” Brollish looked genuinely disturbed. “Pooping?” Beouf said, casually. “Probably. That’s what the diaper’s there for, right?” Janet scooped me up by the armpits, taking more pressure off my rear. That made things go along even faster, the front of my diaper swelled and sagged beneath me with added pee as my bowels finished clearing themselves. The snaps between my legs were doing more than their fair share to hold the increasing mass up. Was it my diet? Fiber? Fruits and veggies? Was I slightly lactose intolerant? Had I just done it so much by this point that I’d become good at it? Hard to tell. But there was a certain happiness that came over me, watching Brollish’s nose wrinkle and her being forced to sit there awkwardly, trapped in her own office, looking at me taking a dump right in front of her. If it had been a potted plant, it would have been better, but this would have to do. Janet lowered me back down to her lap, and I felt the warm muck and mess spread around beneath my redistributed weight. I allowed a goofy, happy smile,and gave out an audible sigh of relief. Watching Brollish’s lip curl ever so slightly, witnessing that breach of composure made the lack of dignity gratifying. Comparing their faces a new realization occurred to me: Beouf seemed relaxed, oddly amused. Not only was she used to seeing Littles poop their pants on a daily basis as to be immune to disgust; but she very likely knew me well enough to sense the joy I was taking at Brollish’s discomfort. Janet was already settling me back into her lap and cuddling me in her grip, but she was being much more still and steady with her legs. Me pooping myself was gross, but I was her Little, her baby, so that made it more than bearable. Bankhead’s eyebrows twitched slightly, but she went right back to typing as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. She’d been in so many I.E.P. meetings over the years, that the idea of a Little having an accident right there at the meeting was only foreign in that most Littles didn’t get to attend their I.E.P. meetings. Brollish was quietly repulsed. Children, which I was supposed to be, were dirty things that were tolerated and humored in small doses. Moreover, the gears were turning in her brain, looking for the next angle of attack. In short, three of the Amazons strongly believed that I was actually a baby for all intents and purposes. Brollish? She either didn’t believe it or it just didn’t factor into her calculations. Interesting. Bonus points, my spite shit had bought me some time. Just not enough. “If you’re finished,” Brollish said. “Why don’t you tell me why you hit the teacher.” “Can I change him, first?” Janet asked. “I don’t want him getting a rash.” She moved to get up but Brollish motioned her back down. “No no. That can wait. That’s what the diaper’s for, right?” She burrowed her gaze down into me “Talk to us Clark. Please.” “He was…” “No thank you Mrs. Beouf,” she cut Melony off. “Your testimony has already been taken. No need to coach.” Melony gripped the arms of her chair and stared at me with as much fervor, her jaw working and grinding like she was trying to send me a message via telepathy. I blinked “No need to coach.” She was coaching me, wasn’t she? Two blinks. “You’re free to go back to your room to teach, Ms. Grange. I don’t mind watching him.” And they were keeping me away from the others, and under watch so that they couldn’t tell me something. Three. “You needed at least one adult minding my class.” That would mean Ambrose’s class too, wouldn’t it? “See you around, Boss. I’ll stop by your class and tell her you said ‘Hello’ before I go.” So it stood to reason that Tracy was watching our kids alone, too. School had to keep functioning as a school before the buses pulled out. Four blinks. “It seems our children are picking up bad habits from one another.” “I’m sorry, Clark. You taught me to never ask for a hug without permission.” “Looks like you finally got that hug you were both looking for.” It was a good thing I’d just shit my pants because then someone could shout ‘You-Reek-Uh!’ “I saw my friend Elmer,” I said. “And I really really missed him because when I was a big boy I used to be his teacher.” I tug my bandaged left hand up over my bottom lip and started playing with. With my right hand I started fiddling with the pacifier. “And?” “I got Ivy to get me out of the harness so I could run over to Elmer and give him a hug.” The first few syllables were garbled until Janet gently pulled my fingers out of my own mouth. “And?” I looked out of the corner of my eye. Beouf was leaning further back in the chair with each passing second. Tension and nervousness was exiting her body, practically evaporating. “I tried to give him a hug,” I continued, “but then somebody grabbed me and I got scared and I turned around and my hand hurt and then,” I started to sniffle. I made my throat close up and crushed my face into itself so I could let out one pathetic falsetto, “owie!” “Shhhhh,” Janet said, rubbing my back again. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Then with more volume, Janet said. “So my Little boy went to give a friend a hug, hopped out of line, ran away, and interrupted Ambrose giving some kind of instruction to a child. Does that sound correct?” Brollish removed her glasses and exhaled through her nose. “According to the majority of reports I have received? Yes. It seems that way.” I’d done it! We’d done it! Brollish didn’t want to give us time to coordinate and create a cover story, but she still needed to keep the school running! Beouf, Zoge, and Tracy all had time to talk with each other and communicate, get their story straight and pass along hints to me! Tracy must have even gotten Elmer and his mother in on the act when parents were called. That doesn’t seem like self-defense to me,” Mrs. Beouf said. “Even if it was, it has no merit regarding expulsion.” Defeated, Brollish asked. “Why do you say that?” “Let’s say for the sake of argument that everything Ambrose said is true.” Beouf said. “A student of mine slipped his harness, ran up, and attacked an adult unprovoked. Clark has a Developmental Plateau somewhere between eighteen and thirty months. Higher in some areas, lower in others. One and a half to two and a half years old, tops. Functionally a toddler in almost everything but raw intellect; fairly common in Maturosis when diagnosed and treated correctly.” She chuckled under her breath. “I’ve got a model I can show you using blocks if you’d like.” Brollish replaced her glasses. “Get on with it,” she sighed. “If a not even three year old sucker punched an adult and then was publicly beaten, do you think it would be a good idea to expel a student for that?” “I do not.” “Expulsion should only be considered in extreme circumstances,” Beouf quoted as if from a written document (which she very likely was). “Such as when a student is a danger to other students.” “Yes,” Brollish agreed, a bit too readily. “You’ve got a point.” She leaned over in her desk, opened up a cabinet, and from her witch’s cauldron, she took out a manilla folder. “Which is why I’d like to discuss this.” She opened it up. Stapled to the inside was a clear plastic sandwich bag containing an absolutely vile looking bottle of what used to hold cinnamon. Worse than the bag, in the folders were pictures of a Little boy in a sailor suit coughing up clouds of brown dust, a single one showing the first round of vomit coming out of his mouth. “The photographer saved a few of these for me,” Brollish said. “Care to explain, Clark?” The feeling of victory I’d experienced planted itself right between my shoulder blades; a nagging itch that I just couldn’t reach. I’d been so close, too. “No…” I said. “I don’t.” “He probably doesn’t even remember that,” Beouf tried. “It doesn’t matter if he remembers it or not,” Brollish answered. Her tone a quiet mockery of Beouf’s early confidence. “I have evidence to suggest that he poisoned himself and several other students. That’s dangerous. Very dangerous. He even hid the evidence in the diaper pail somehow. That signifies intent, don’t you think.” She’d held onto this as a back up plan in case her original gambit failed. “I thought it’d be funny,” I said. Honestly? In hindsight? It kind of was. Playing the idiot had gotten me this far. Beouf scowled, “Clark…” I wasn’t helping myself. “Speaking as his parent and a teacher,” Janet said, “I think you’re reaching, ma’am.” As if all that she needed were the pictures, she slid them across the desk so that Janet could get an even better look. “Oh?” “If Clark were a thirty two year old adult,” Janet stated, “I would agree with you. That’s a fireable offense, for sure.” Behind her glasses Brollish was grimacing. She suddenly saw where this was going. “Clark is legally a baby, now,” my Mommy continued. “He doesn’t even have the identification number he was born with. He’s legally a different person. Fresh start. It’s not fair to hold him to one set of standards and then another when as it suits us.” “He nearly killed himself choking and several others could have been hurt too. They also vomited everywhere.” “He’s a baby,” Beouf jumped in. “All of my students are. That’s why they’re my students. Babies stick things in their mouths all the time. High sensory seeking behaviors. They talk other babies into doing silly things, too. Low impulse control and a desire for recognition.” The clacking of Bankhead’s computer, then, “Does that mean,” Brollish asked, “that you failed in your duties to prevent that behavior? You allowed the contraband to be snuck in?” “Yes ma’am,” Beouf nodded. “And if you would like to put that in my yearly evaluation or have that otherwise affect my performance review this year, you have every right to do so and I accept it.” The Principal seemed so shocked that Beouf would accept a penalty of some sort so quickly that Janet was able to get in, “If it’s about vomiting on purpose, ma’am, then you need to have words with some fourth and fifth graders who chugged pop rocks, pixie sticks, and soda at the Fall Festival.” A low grunt rumbled out of Brollish as the dusty old processor that was her brain ran the numbers. “You make a very good point, ladies,” she said. “That is why, effective tomorrow through the end of Thursday, Clark Grange will be suspended.” No one said a thing. It could have been so much worse. Still… “Suspended?” I asked. “Why?” “I am a firm believer in restorative justice,” Brollish said. “You did a very bad thing, and need to face consequences for that action. Because of your status, I can’t have you mopping floors, so I’m giving you time out to reflect on what you’ve done by giving you the maximum amount of suspension for that type of infraction.” “Vomiting?” Beouf asked, incredulous. “Vandalism,” Brollish said simply. Okay. Yeah. That was admittedly fair. “Ms. Grange, I trust you have either enough emergency sub plans and time off to watch him or the means to ensure for his care?” Janet stood up with me. “Yes, ma’am.” “Very good. Mrs. Beouf, you may take your student back to the classroom for the remainder of the day.” I was quickly passed over to Beouf. I’d already forgotten what was going on beneath my waist because of all the adrenaline pumping in me. “Yes, ma’am.’ “Thank you for your time, ladies.” We walked stiffly and silently out of the office, out into the reception area, and then circling around into the courtyard. Janet gave me a final kiss on the cheek. “We’ll talk more at home,” she promised. Beouf didn’t say anything till we were almost in the classroom. “Big boy?” she said. “Really?” “What?” I blushed. “I was trying to sell it.” “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, bud? Anybody who knows you knows that you don’t talk like that!” She tweaked my nose and winked. “Good thing Brollish doesn’t really know you, huh?” “It worked, didn’t it?” “I’m Cwawk,” Melony lisped all the way into an obnoxious falsetto. “An’ I’m justa widdle baby. Notta big boy! Ooowooo!” I gasped in half-mocking exasperation. “Are you making fun of me for actually talking like my Developmental Plateau Melony Beouf?” “No, Clark Gibson Grange,” Melony smirked. “I’m making fun of you for doing a bad impression of what you think I want your Developmental Plateau to sound like. You taught preschool for how long and that’s the best you can do?” “Shut up,” I laughed, and stuck out my tongue at her. She stopped at the door and stuck hers out right back at me. “Gibson Grange?” I said. “What’s up with that?” “Slip of the tongue,” Beouf shrugged, bobbing me in my messy Monkeez with it. “I don’t normally know people’s pre-Adopted names. I messed up and self-corrected in the same thought and hoped you wouldn’t notice.” She grabbed the door handle. “Come on, stinker, let’s get you changed.” “Deal.” It had been a day of terrible and wonderful miracles. As it turned out there was still one left. “Hey, Boss!” Beouf’s room was in total chaos. The normally well organized classroom was littered with stuffies and toys from every activity center and bit of closet space. Rather than attempt any form of discipline or instruction, Zoge had just given up pretense and initiated a kind of indoor recess. Zoge hadn’t been the only certified adult in the room, however. Standing amidst the chaos, my favorite Tweener surveyed the real life three and four year olds playing amongst the eighteen to thirty five year olds forced to act younger. What’s more, they were playing with each other. No shouts of ‘baby’ or shoves or pushes from the bigger children. No fear or manipulation from the smaller adults. “Okay kid,” Chaz said. “Put that block there.” “But that’ll make it all fall.” “Exactly!” Chaz snapped his finger. “It’s not good fun until something is falling down!” “Hold still,” Annie said to a former student of mine. “I haven’t done this in a while.” “Are these gonna make me look pretty?” the massive three year old asked, while Annie fiddled with hair clips. “You’re gonna be the prettiest dolly in all the land. Promise!” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the Littles were kind of…babysitting? Not with any kind of actual authority, but the children were following their lead. Lots of questions of “what next?” and declarations of “follow me!” Over in the reading nook, Mandy and Shauna were giving an impromptu phonics lesson. Jessie and Sandra Lynn were working with finger paints and giving an art seminar. “Tracy?” I gawked. “What in the world is happening?” “Mrs. Zoge and I decided to combine classes for the afternoon. This place has better toys.” “But…but…but…” I spread my arms over the entire scene. If I hadn’t known any better I’d say Ambrose had never indoctrinated them. “We had a talk after lunch.” “About what?” “Treating people the way you want to be treated,” Tracy said. “Gold Rule. Oh, and about how Littles with Maturosis were very experienced babies, and you could still learn a lot.from experience. That and I promised them extra cupcakes if they were nice.” Her nose started to wrinkle at my smell. “Come on,” Beouf said. She started high stepping over blocks and playsets.. “Let’s get you cleaned up, oh experienced one.” Peering over Beouf’s shoulder, I saw Tracy bend over and whisper something into Tommy’s ear. Whatever she was telling my least favorite asshole, he was digging it. I stared at my reflection in the ceiling mirror, smiling up at myself. As far as Little victories went, this was easily the Littlest. I’d won with the help of my friends because I’d done something so incredibly stupid as to be nearly suicidal and they all covered for me. My only punishment was three days off. “Just like old times,” I whispered. I was so tired and over the moon with relief that it didn’t even bother me seeing Beouf’s hands unbutton my romper again and expose my ruined diaper. Beouf grabbed a fresh diaper and started unfolding it. “What was that?” she asked, her hands already going for the tapes. From the classroom, shouting so loud that it could be heard over everything else came Tommy’s thundering voice. “ALL HAIL CLARK GIBSON! THE GIANT KILLAAAAAAAAAAAH!” My change was delayed by a good two minutes with both of us cackling and gasping for breath in the bathroom, Beouf becoming so weak that she fell to her knees and had to steady herself and climb back up to her feet using the changing table’s shelves.

I'm in just my diaper right now. T-shirt and a diaper is always awesome too.

Great drawings

Thanks for the update @Beccathelittle it's always interesting reading. You mention that changing out in public is becoming a nuisance, has this made you regret your decision or think about potty training again?

What a nice update. Messing is getting easier.

There is a recency effect that can come into play when taking certain medications, where the cure feels worse than the disease, because it's been a while since the person has fully had to contend with the disease, because they've been on the medication. So, people say to themselves, I generally feel "pretty good" or "okay" or whatever descriptor fits, except for all the side effects of the damned medication that I have to take... so do I really have to take it, if I feel okay? However, the recency of the symptoms of the medication may be eclipsing the profundity of the symptoms of the disease, because the medication has been masking those for a long time. So, the question comes down to, will the symptoms of the illness, untreated, be worse than the symptoms of the treatment? This equation can also get clouded by a grace period that often comes into play, where the side effects of the medication decline faster than the symptoms of whatever it was treating ramp up, so you enjoy a period where it feels like dropping the meds was the right move, but then, the slumbering bear in the cave wakes up, and once it does, it can't be put right back to bed, even if you start taking the medication again. The best bet is to talk to your pharmacist, therapist, or doctor, about what side effects are really vexing you, and, to try to get an objective opinion on if your displeasure with the way you currently feel is a reflection of the side effects of the medication, or if it's actually symptomatic of the underlying condition, and what's happening is, the medications aren't working as well as they used to, which is why you're now becoming plagued by, for example, an inability to enjoy yourself, or irritability, or anxiety, or pain in your lower back that's tinting everything black, or whatever best describes what the medication was supposed to be controlling. Work with your team to tinker with the doses or the types of medication, to allow you to live your best life. Going completely off of them sounds to me, as an outsider, like it's only a short-term solution, because if you've been taking these medications for a long time, despite their problematic side effects, then when you were in a better place, they obviously made sense to you, or you wouldn't have taken them this long. So if you're in a worse place right now, and maybe wouldn't make as good a decision as "Better Place Mikey", then perhaps trust "Better Place Mikey" from a while back, and don't yank him off his meds without taking to someone? Just my 2 cents. In any case, I hope you can get it sorted out and feel better. What you do makes a lot of people feel better, so we want the same for you.

If Kimberly Clark made a production run of the old green Depends and sold them in bags labeled "Adult Pampers." That run would sell out very quickly even at a ridiculous price. All the ABs that bought them would be pissed at the diapers, but they would frame the packaging. And in 5 years the unopened packages would be on ebay for triple the original price.

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

Or this might be easier in the woods: and more embarsssing

Sorry that happened to you. Just because someone is religious, or belongs to a religion (or any other group) does not make them a good person on that fact alone. Sounds like that person a Sunday Christian- the holier-than-thou type who think parking their ass on a pew for an hour or two on Sunday makes them morally superior to everyone else yet acts like a jackass the other days of the week. There's a wide variety of churches/ congretations (or mosques or synagogues or temples or shrines for other religions etc) and denominations within the many religions. Some of those vast numbers of those groups are cliquey, sucky people and some of those groups are awesome people. You found the sucky ones. I hope you find peace and healing and someday, if you want to, I hope you find a group of awesome people (of whatever religion or non-religion like agnosticism or atheism etc) you choose.

I am really happy for you Reddy. Congrats. The first results seem very promising and will very soon put you in some very exciting and challenging situations. Remember leaks will happen. With incontinence every aspect of life becomes so much more intense. Because no matter what you do, you will always have to think about the remaining capacity of your diaper and the next opportunity to change. And incontinence is so unnatural and so socially undesirable or even taboo that you will never really get used to it. I truly hope you will enjoy every minute of your diapered life. I think you will.

Kinda boring prints to me.

Great chapter. I know Sam made the right choice. My only question is will she let Nina be the one to change her after she has am accident on this bike ride. I am looking forward to seeing more.

I don’t have a problem with this at all. When I wore diapers as a child I was only allowed to wear diapers and a tee shirt when I was at home (so my mom would more easily be able to tell when I needed it diaper change and that practice has transferred over to my adult life so when at home I’m not allowed to wear anything over my diaper which is fine with me because I’m more comfortable in just a diaper and a tee shirt). Wearing just a diaper and a tee shirt doesn’t just apply to inside of the house. For many years I lived a block away from the beach and during the spring and summer months I would frequently take an early morning (just as the sun was coming up) walk, down to the beach in just a diaper and a tee shirt and 75% of those walks I wouldn’t come home until my diaper was soaked and about 245% of the time I would come home both wet and messy.

Had wings for lunch. Hooray wings!

This week I’ve been prompted to mourn the loss of the “BetterDry” adult nappy which seems to have been killed off and replaced with a not-quite-as-good doppelganger whose shortcoming although of themselves minor, are writ large by the inevitable comparison with its predecessor. We’ll call this substitute nappy the “Slightly-Less-BetterDry” or “SLB Edition” to save me wearing out a perfectly good keyboard. The classic BetterDry has been a true and faithful friend (assuming you are ok with peeing on your friends before throwing them away). I was using them even way back in the “before” times when my nappies were intermittent and recreational. Then I used overwhelmingly cloth but for travel, some BetterDrys were nice to have around. I even used to wear them on some of the longer domestic flights (thinking of YOU, 6 hour flight between Brisbane and Perth) because it was less hassle than clambering over fellow passengers out of my preferred window seat location, they didn’t leak, and the first hints of late middle-age urinary urgency were making themselves known to me. I’m not sure when the SLB replicant displaced the original. Here in the Antipodes, supplier nappy stocks deplete slowly and it’s entirely possible that I was peeing in the “classic” BetterDry up until only a few weeks ago. The latest case (which are undoubtedly “SLB”) I bought just before Christmas. It had to be fresh stock because as is usual, the sold Australian supplier had run out of BetterDry a few weeks earlier. I had to wait for the shipping container gods to smile before buying more. This new case had then proceeded to spend a month or so in my study cupboard acclimatising itself from European to local weather before the inexorable cycle of nappy changes saw them pressed into service a few weeks ago. Almost immediately, strange new phenomena appeared. Persistent but minor leaks. Usually around the inner crotch but sometimes the right rear thigh in classic “Rearz” failure mode: Predominately noticeable in bed by morning through wet spots on the terry towel layer sewn into my night time plastic pants. Repeated “blow outs” due to tape tension tearing the plastic outer shell. Less common than the new inner thigh leak, these failures compensated for this by being more destructive to my terry towel lining as well as leaving handfuls of yellow-duckling-colour soggy fluff on the bathroom floor at change time. Waking up with “birdbath bum” more frequently. It seems that far more of the SLB padding is wet by morning relative to the classic BetterDry leading to wet bum mornings. This however could be a feature. I’ve always found that higher capacity nappies are limited by poor wicking rather than the want of absorptive material. To be honest, BetterDrys could have done with slightly better wicking however the coincidence of leaks suggests otherwise. Last Friday however I had to go up the coast for the day to take care of some business. It’s about a 2 hour drive each way and I wasn’t 100% sure of how long I would be up there. Usually on Fridays (I don’t work Fridays) I wear cloth but I didn’t fancy having a Kung-Fu-Panda sized arse and possibly smelling (however faintly) of wee in front of the business folk I needed to spend time with. Still the day would have been a big ask for my usual Abena/booster weekend disposable combination. Their absorption is ok but their hopelessly stretchy outer cloth-like cover and love of gravity invariably has them continually escaping to visit my socks by mid-afternoon. Instead, I decided to use one of my new BetterDry (SLB Edition). For some reason, I pulled on heavy plastic pants over the top of them instead of my usual PUL waterproofs before pulling on compression shorts and jeans. Maybe I thought that crinkly, milky white plastic and thick elastics would return some of Friday’s recreational air lost to the use of disposables. Maybe I thought that encasing my crotch in a Swedish sauna would give me the Greta Thunberg slenderness that I yearned for. I was a bit wet before I’d even gotten to the freeway and that’s really how the day went. I’m often finding myself slightly surprised by how little I can “hold on” now. In order for me to stay comfortable, I really need to be letting things drain a tiny amount every 10 minutes or so. Attempting the 120km drive north without nappies would have descended into farce and it’s this kind of implicit dependency that does sneak up on you over the years. Several hours later and with the last of my errands completed, it was time for me to head back south. Things felt pretty squishy in the underwear department but being a BetterDry, I assumed all would be well. There was a complication. I really needed a #2. These used to appear with clockwork precision at my morning change but with general changes in the pelvic floor area, things are not as quite as reliable as they used to be. I suppose I could have found some facilities but I was well aware that any taking down and pulling back up of my by-then Wetterdrys (SLB edition) could be highly injurious to their already-compromised leak security. I suppose I could have tried to hang on for the 1.5 hour trip back down the highway but that seemed like a tall (and uncomfortable) order. “Hanging on” isn’t such a thing these days. On the other hand, I needed to face no further humans and waiting back at home was an empty house. My bowels read the memo. “As you wish sire!” they saluted and by the time I’d gotten back to the car in the carpark, I was waddling in a fully loaded nappy. I lowered myself very gingerly into the driver seat. It was a substantial payload. A bit squelchy sitting down but things kind of spread out and I didn’t have to adjust the rear view mirror any so it wasn’t like I was sitting much further off the seat. My plastic pants and compression shorts limited air exchange sufficiently so that I could breathe so I then headed for home. It really felt perfectly comfortable. I don’t know why babies cry. It’s the clean-up that sucks and they’re not the ones doing that anyway. As the kilometres rolled by however, I became aware that things seemed remarkably “oozy” down there. I was fairly sure I wasn’t contributing any further to the substantial load on board but things seemed to be moving around in the seat of my nappy of their own accord. I drove on. Things were definitely seeping out. I could distinctly feel the terrain in my underwear “changing”. This was a complete mystery to me. As far as I could tell, that job was DONE. If there was more, I could neither tell for sure nor stop it. Going home to my beloved an announcing that I’d suddenly been stricken with faecal incontinence would be at best awkward. I drove on more. Periodically, it felt like I was sitting on a body-temperature octopus and it was trying to escape. I peed little bits here and there as is my habit but this didn’t seem to change things one way or the other. I made it home without incident. I made it upstairs without incident. I removed my jeans, again without incident although certain atmospheric changes that occurred as I peeled off layers of clothing hinted at horrors beneath. And then, I removed my compression shorts. Instead of the smooth white plains of my thick ‘kins plastic pants, it looked like I was wearing a peanut butter sandwich inside out. It felt a bit the same way. Some kind of disastrous containment failure had clearly occurred. Glumly, I surveyed the formerly-white leg elastics and wondered if the stains could ever be removed before pulling them down to expose the nappy beneath. Then, things got MUCH worse. Gobs of suspiciously brownish ooze had collected in the crotch of those ruined plastic pants. The asymmetry of their lowering causing this substance to flow out the leggings and splatter to the floor whereupon the biggish brown pieces broke into hundreds of smaller brown pieces that in a curiously non-newtonian fluidic fashion, slid across the bathroom floor before splitting into even more brownish pieces. It was pee-soaked and slightly-poop-infused SAP gel from inside my BetterDry (SLB edition). It wasn’t poop but the difference was a bit technical by this stage in the nappy lifecycle. There’d been a blow out of biblical proportions. That constant oozy, moving about sensation I’d been experiencing on the way home was sodden gel particles sliding out of my nappy into my plastic pants whereupon they would wander about aimlessly as though exploring some kind of art gallery. I cautiously un-taped my BetterDry (SLB edition) and, as I drew it out from between my legs and up towards me. At the first tug of gravity-induced torque, the entire inner lining and padding of the product, resplendent in squashed poop icing 1.5 litres of pee-sodden gel simply slid OFF its plastic backing sheet to disgorge itself entirely onto the tile floor before me like a drunk throwing up. More brown goo made non-newtonian sprints for the far corners of the room as I stood in speechless awe holding the remaining “nappy” which was by now no more than a damp sheet of plastic. The mess was epic. My beloved would be home in maybe 15 minutes. I suddenly recalled that scene in “Pulp Fiction” where Vincent in the front passenger seat of a car in broad daylight downtown Los Angeles was conversing with Marvin, his rear seat passenger in an animated fashion. Gesticulating to make his point whilst holding his pistol (an epic failure of gun control), Vincent violently and unintentionally discharged the weapon directly at him. A brief but comprehensive shower of meat inside the car cabin ensued. “I just shot Marvin in the face!” The gruesome and reckless immorality of the killing was as irrelevant to the moment as its mechanism. Dostoyevsky morality would have to take a back seat. The prime issue was a sudden, massively-difficult-to-hide, semi-public uber-mess evidencing a crime that invited certain and severe punishment. Unlike Vincent, I had no “Wolf” to help me. I was on my own. The clean-up was fast, furious and superficial and at best dubiously successful. A real BetterDry would NEVER had done this to me. Welcome BetterDry (SLB Edition).

How about walking around with it in the seat of your diaper, bumping and bouncing around in there? You can do that for a while before either changing it or sittimg down in it.

Good for you! That is what diapers are for. Let us know when you poop them!

I thought this would be a style of clothing only for baby boys, but my Mommy found a way to adapt it. My t-shirts are really short, with no chance of covering the diaper.

I have no problem with you thinking that this train of thought is crazy. But what I can't figure out is why you feel the need to spread patently false information to dissuade others?

You are correct. I need to go back in correct that. Thanks for bring this up! My bad. Happy New Year everyone. I hope 2024 is a good year for everyone. I promise to continue writing this story. I think this chapter may surprise some of you the direction I took it but it will all pan out in the end. Chapter 21 - Darlene's Sad Story As Darlene drove him back to her place, Avery felt the thick, soft padding of his wet diaper absorb the moisture against his skin. It was heavy and impossible to ignore, a constant reminder that he was far from average. The warmth of the material clung to him like a second skin, a constant reminder of his shame. Even in the sweatpants, he felt humiliated having to sit in a wet diaper for so long. Today started out so good and then quickly went sour; he had almost completely forgotten his big win with everything that came after it. He hoped that tonight would be a little better and it would end on a good note. As Darlene slowly turned onto the long winding driveway, Avery was in awe of the majestic beauty that lay before him. The vast wooded lot had to be at least a few acres, with towering trees that seemed to reach up to the heavens, casting an ethereal and tranquil glow over everything they touched. As they drove further up, Avery got an even better view of the two-story red brick house adorned with white shutters and custom crown molding. An elegant cobblestone path led to the front entrance, lined with manicured shrubs and blooming flowers of every hue. A detached three-car garage sat off to the side of the house, nestled away in the back. "You live here? Wow.." Avery admires the place with his jaw almost dropping. Darlene smiled, seeing him doing this. "How many square feet is this place, if you don't mind me asking?" "It is a little over 5,000 square feet. I know it is excessive when it’s just me here." Darlene said. There was a note of sadness in her voice. Avery let out a low whistle in appreciation of Darlene’s huge house. It couldn’t have been more different than his apartment. He looked out at the woodland that bordered the driveway as they continued slowly towards what seemed to Avery to be a mansion. "No, the place looks amazing on the outside and so tranquil here," Avery said with a smile and a hint of jealousy. "I like it just outside the city limits, plus the property taxes out here are like nothing," Darlene replied. As Darlene drove up to the three-car garage, she hit her garage door opener; Avery saw that the garage was mostly empty, with a few tools in it. She didn't own any other vehicles but this one. All the foster families he grew up with probably didn't have anything more than 2,500 square feet. As they got out of Darleen's car, they entered the side of the house through the kitchen. It turned out that the interior was as impressive as the exterior. The kitchen was huge to Avery, with a large marble-topped island in the center where the state-of-the-art stainless steel stove glowed and gleamed. Gleaming stainless steel pots and pans were suspended from the ceiling, shining like stars on a clear night. Two built-in ovens boasted digital interfaces that could be programmed to make some fabulous meals right in her own home. A luxurious refrigerator filled with all the wonders of modern technology hummed softly, promising freshness with every bite. It had a tablet-like display telling the time and showing the temperature within. Darlene passed him and walked into the living room. "I think I should have a package at the front door by now." Avery followed behind her again, marveling at the living room. He watched as Darlene entered the entryway, opened her French doors, and looked outside. "Ah yes, it did come. Good." She leaned over, picked up the cardboard box, brought it in, and set it on the coffee table. "Ok, Avery, let's get you out of that wet diaper, shall we?" Avery was stunned and wondered why she said: “we”. "I can go take it off in the bathroom and throw it into a small trash bag if you don't mind," Avery said nervously. Darlene had that serious look about her that he hated. "I really appreciate you coming over here to help me. I can't explain how grateful I am after we moved the furniture to the garage for Goodwill. I was hoping you would stay and we could watch some movies tonight. I won't want to be alone tonight. What I am saying is I am offering you to spend the night. I have a spare bedroom for you to sleep in." There was a pause before Darlene continued. "But, I did something that I may or may not have done. I purchased you some diapers and supplies. You have had one accident today, and the other one wasn't your fault, but I don't want to take any chances. I insist that you wear protection tonight for my sake, if you don't mind." Darlene could tell the disappointment on Avery's face. "Do you like red wine?" She changed the subject for a second. "Yes, I do," Avery said. He felt like he was caught in a whirlwind; Darlene was just making decisions, and he was meekly going along with them. "Perfect, I have a great Bordeaux ready to be opened. I will be right back.” She left, heading back into the kitchen as Avery looked at the box, thinking about the diapers. She has already changed Avery's diaper once. He was very embarrassed about it, but she seemed genuinely appreciative of his offer to help. Plus, he had to admit it would be nice to sit back and relax for a night with someone. It had been a long time since he had spent a night with a friend. Darlene grabbed a nice Bordeaux and two long-stemmed wine glasses. When she came back, she placed the two wine glasses down on the coffee table. She opened the wine bottle and poured them both a large glass of red wine. "Let's take a few drinks and talk a little, and then we can change you out of that wet diaper." Avery felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of the diaper change. It was embarrassing enough to have to wear them, but to have someone else change him was even worse. But he couldn't deny the excitement that was building inside him at the thought of Darlene taking control. He took a sip of the wine, trying to calm his nerves. As they talked, Avery found himself opening up to Darlene in a way he never had before; how she spoke at home couldn’t have been more different than when she was at work. She was easy to talk to - funny, smart, and understanding. It was as if they had known each other for years, not just a few hours. He had no idea that the hypnosis was making this process so easy for him and how much he needed this connection. The glass of red wine emptied in an instant, and Avery could only watch in horror as Darlene guzzled down two more. Darlene down the wine so quickly not because of the diaper change with Avery but because of what she needed his help with afterwards. His heart raced a thousand miles a minute as he felt his body involuntarily drawn to the middle of the living room. He saw Darlene spread out a large beach towel, followed by wipes, ointment, baby powder, and a fresh diaper in a neat row. It looked so much more organized compared to when he changed himself. Darlene went over and grabbed Avery's hand like he was a little child and led him over to the large beach towel laid out like a changing mat. Avery was having a hard time getting down on the ground this time, even though she had changed his diaper once. But this was different. He didn't have to be in a diaper tonight. He wasn't at work. He was perfectly capable of changing himself; he really should be asserting his right to change his own diaper, and yet he wasn’t. His hesitations only caused Darlene to give him a hard stare as she motioned for him to kneel down on the towel. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he complied, submitting himself to her mercy as she laid him slowly onto his back until he was staring up at her with nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants to protect him from her gaze. "I really don't…" Avery tried to speak, but Darlene placed one finger softly against his lips, silencing him before he could finish his sentence. Her voice lowered dramatically, and Avery felt all his strength drain out of him. "You already proved yourself wrong earlier today," Darlene said firmly, pinning him under her gaze while her other hand hovered temptingly over the array of items on the beach towel. "Shh," she whispered, "It will all be alright... I'll be gentle." Even though Avery felt nervous, a twinge of excitement as he watched Darlene remove his shoes and socks. Avery then untied his sweatpants and pulled them down, revealing his soaked diaper. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt her fingers deftly undo the tapes on the sides of the diaper. He couldn't help but let out a small moan as the cool air hit his exposed skin. Darlene's touch was gentle and reassuring, and Avery found himself relaxing under her ministrations. He couldn't help but marvel at how easily she seemed to handle his vulnerability and how she made him feel safe and secure. "Lift," Darlene instructed, and Avery knew what Darlene wanted. He lifted his but off and felt Darlene slide the wet diaper out from under him. When the diaper was finally removed, Avery lowered his butt back down on the beach towel. What came next surprised him. Darlene grabbed both of his ankles, lifted them up like he was a baby, and pushed his knees to his stomach. She then began wiping him down with cold, damp, wet wipes which she ran the wipes over his ass and deep in his ass crack. Avery felt like this was crazy. This woman, someone he really hadn’t known for long, was changing his diaper as if he were a helpless infant. It was perhaps even more surprising to him that he didn’t hate it; in fact, he was feeling quite the opposite. Avery couldn't deny the arousal that was building within him. He felt himself growing harder by the minute, and he knew that Darlene must have noticed. He tried hard to think of something else as he didn't want to be aroused; he didn’t want Darlene to think he was some kind of pervert Just as she lowered his butt back down again, Darlene softly said, “You really need to shave your pubic hair.” As she tried to not make a big deal of seeing him getting hard, “It’s more hygienic for people with your problems.” Without a word, she reached over to the Desitin tube of ointment. As she squeezed a small amount onto her fingers, Avery couldn't help but squirm in embarrassment. She pushed his ankles up and back, making him raise his ass off the ground. Again, he found himself embarrassed at how she handled him, how she made him feel so delicate and cared for, which was something he never felt before. He wasn't sure if the feeling was from having only one glass of wine or if there was something more. Darlene slowly worked her fingers into the crack of his ass, applying the cool cream liberally. Lowering him back down, She applied more ointment to her fingers. She then slid her fingers over his hardening penis and down along the sides to his testicles, and Avery could help but let out a soft moan. The strange thing was that Avery felt like Darlene was humming a song lightly that he couldn't make out. Was she doing this to soothe him, or was she enjoying this? He couldn't tell. "My sweet boy," she said softly to herself "It will all be over soon." Darlene didn't realize she was pretending that Avery was a little boy who needed her to take care of him. The three glasses of wine had let her guard down. After she had finished applying the ointment, she reached for the disposable diaper and began to unfold it. Avery got a glance at the diaper. He could have sworn it was thicker than the diapers he usually purchased. "Let's get you in this comfortable diaper, shall we?" Darlene talked to him like he was a child. Avery had such strange, mixed feelings. One was still mortified in embarrassment, and another was a sense of being taken care of by someone who cared. But really, who would want to care for him? He tried to remind himself as Darlene, once again, lifted his ankles up and over as she slid the thick diaper under him and slowly lowered him down on it. She spread out his legs. Avery confirmed that this diaper was definitely thicker before she even attempted to pull the diaper up between his legs. Avery was rock-hard and embarrassed now. He felt guilty that this woman was trying to do something nice for him, and he was responding in such a lewd way. "Shall we get you all powdered up before we safely tape you up?" she hummed as she continued the process of diapering him. Clearly, it was a rhetorical question. She was continuing with the change no matter what Avery said or did. Darlene grabbed the baby powder and shook it over Avery's skin with frenzied speed, loving the smell of it that reminded her of what her baby should have smelled like. She quickly wiped away a tear before Avery could detect it, while he inhaled the pungent aroma of baby powder, struggling to repress any emotion the smell might draw out from her memories. Before Avery could react, he felt the rough adhesive tape being torn and stretched across his bottom as the diaper was laid in between his legs, making them bow distantly apart. Darlene pulled up the diaper tightly around his waist, firmly securing it with the tape before running her hand along its contours to ensure a perfect fit. Gently cupping his chin in her hands, she raised his face until they were eye to eye and said with a soft voice, "All done." Just before she was about to help him up, she stopped, "Oh, I almost forgot. I got you something to help with your diaper issue at work." She unfolded a white-looking t-shirt. Avery couldn't understand what she was talking about until he saw the shirt end in two flaps of cloth. It took a second for him to realize what he was seeing. It was a onesie! The soft cotton fabric rustled as the air passed through it. "I... I don't think I need that." Avery said anxiously. "Oh my boy, I think you do. It will help hold your diaper closer to you when you wet it, and the best part is you don't have to worry about exposing your diaper to anyone when you bend over at work." Darlene replied. She accidentally referred to Avery as her boy. "But… But" was all Avery could say as Darlene reached over and once again put her fingers on his lips. "Shh" , she whispered softly. "We are going to see how this works tonight." Her words were soft but demanding as she began to slip Avery's t-shirt off. She grabbed the onesie and slid it over his head and down his chest and stomach. Once again, without asking. Darlene lifted his ankles and grabbed the back of the onesie, and slid it over his butt. She then laid his butt down and pulled it between his legs as she grabbed the front side of the onesie and pulled down between his legs, where he heard four snaps under him being fastened to hold his diaper close to him. "Ok, let's see how this looks." Darlene grabbed Avery’s hand and helped him stand up. "Perfect fit," she smiled proudly. She couldn't help herself as she patted his diaper butt. That made Avery blush even more. He looked down at himself and felt like a big baby. The onesie reminded him precisely of what he saw babies wearing. The diaper underneath was now being pulled close to his body, causing the soft padding to rub against him even more than it used to. He could definitely believe that it would prevent his diaper from sagging if he used it. "Can I put the sweatpants on?" Avery asked Darlene as he felt a little strange standing there in a thicker diaper than before and in a onesie. "Oh, sure you can." Darlene smiled as she walked out to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine. She filled both their glasses to the top. She handed a glass to Avery as he finished putting on his sweatpants. She then grabbed her glass of wine. "follow me, and I will show you what I need help with to disassemble and bring down to the garage." Darlene took Avery to the upstairs hallway. She pointed to a door at the end of the hall and said, "This is what I need help with". Avery followed her into the room and when Darlene opened it he was shocked to see a fully furnished nursery with a crib, changing table, rocking chair, dresser, several toys, and even clothes hanging up in the closet, all were fit for a baby girl. Pinks and purples filled the room from wall to wall. He couldn't believe his eyes as it looked like something out of a magazine spread. Avery felt like he had just been taken back in time and reverted back to his own childhood self as his eyes took everything in. He looked over at Darlene, who had tears streaming down her face as she looked around with an expression of nostalgia mixed with sorrow. She gestured for him to sit beside her on the floor with their backs to the wall, each still holding their glasses of wine in hand. Avery suddenly felt like he was standing in a place he wasn’t supposed to be. Darlene took a deep breath and a moment of silence as she drank. Avery followed. He needed to drink after being diapered like he was and now seeing Darlene in distress. He waited for her to talk as she seemed to be trying to find the right words. Darlene looked up to the ceiling where she had painted stars and clouds. "Nine months ago. I lost my baby girl while trying to give birth to her. As you can tell, I was so excited to be finally having my daughter. I had already set up this room, bought her clothes, everything she would need for when she arrived." Darlene paused as tears were rolling down her face. Avery’s mouth was hanging open from surprise. He hadn’t expected anything like this, and the lingering embarrassment over what happened downstairs was quickly replaced by a great sadness for his new friend. Darlene had paused to drink some more of her wine. “It was a long and difficult labor. The doctors were able to detect some complications prior to my delivery, but we weren't sure of the full extent until it was already too late. I went into labor early, and during the delivery…” Darlene paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. “You don’t have to say anymore.” Avery quickly said, “I mean, I’m here for you, and I will listen to whatever you want to say, but don’t feel like you have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” “It’s… fine.” Darlene cleared her throat. She had been advised by therapists to talk about her pain, to not bottle it up forever. Avery nodded his head. “The labor and delivery went alright at the beginning, but then something just wasn't right. During the process, it became apparent that she had a serious heart condition that had gone undiagnosed throughout my pregnancy. and in addition, the doctors figured out that the umbilical cord had gotten wrapped around her neck and had prevented her from getting enough oxygen while in the womb. They tried their best to save both of us, but it was too late… She didn't make it.” Darlene hung her head. Avery had tears himself swelling for her. He was typically known not to be very empathetic towards people, but this tugged at his heart. Avery took a good solid drink of his wine, placed his hand on top of hers, and just listened quietly as he let her tell him her story. "There was significant damage to my uterus. Afterward, I ended up staying in the hospital for a few weeks after that, trying to recover, but I was left with severe physical complications that make it impossible for me to conceive and have another baby. Not being able to save her took a huge toll on me both physically and emotionally, which is why this room remained untouched." “I’m… I’m so sorry.” Avery said quietly. Darlene paused for a moment before continuing. "It's been hard for me to see this room just the way it was when we prepared for her arrival. There have been days where all I do is sit in here, cry, and remember how excited I was about being pregnant with her. But even though she didn't get to stay with me very long, I will always cherish those nine months I had her growing inside me." Avery was taken aback by this news. He withdrew his hand from Darlene and reached his arm around Darlene to hug her comfortably. He could feel the sadness emanating from her body and he wanted to do anything he could to help ease her suffering. Darlene leaned in and cried for a while on his shoulders. This was all new to Avery; he felt so out of place trying to comfort someone. Several minutes passed until Darlene pulled away from Avery. "My sisters have been trying to get me to move on. So they sat me down and made sure I scheduled Goodwill to come and pick up this stuff. They are my biggest support and only support group. I need you to help move all the baby furniture down tonight to the garage.” "I would love to help you, Darlene," Avery said as he held Darlene up. He had totally forgotten he was wearing a diaper and onesie. They both took a drink, set it down on the dresser, and started to tackle disassembling the crib first. The crib held so many memories for Darlene. She recalled the moment she found it at the store and knew it would be perfect for her daughter. She could also remember painting the walls with clouds and stars as well as decorating the room in pastel colors. Avery was amazed by how much thought and love that had gone into this nursery. He looked around and admired every detail, from each stuffed animal to every piece of furniture that was chosen with such care and love. It was clear that not only was Darlene very excited and prepared for her baby girl, but that she would’ve been a fantastic mother. He watched as Darlene carefully loosened each screw of the crib before removing it piece by piece until all that remained was a pile of wood on the floor where once there had been a beautiful canopy bed. This was clearly a very emotional thing for Darlene, who had to stop every so often to collect herself. Avery did his best to comfort her. It took them a while to take the crib apart. They had to unscrew each screw and carefully move the pieces one at a time. The entire process was filled with memories of what could have been or never happened for Darlene. As she moved each piece of the crib, she reminisced about all the joys this baby would have brought into their life. However hard it was for her, she knew it was for the best that these things get passed on to someone who would use them and appreciate them. Together, they managed to disassemble the crib, which felt like such an accomplishment in itself, given how much grief it held within its structure. They moved on to disassembling the changing table. Holding one piece in his hand, Avery couldn't help but think that life was so cruel. He remembered the feeling of growing up without parents and being passed from one foster home to another. He thought about how painful his childhood had been and longed for what it would be like to grow up in the loving arms of a mother. As he looked over at how hard Darlene was working, trying to keep herself together as she disassembled the changing table, her face illuminated by the setting sun streaming in through the window, Avery felt helpless in that moment. He wished desperately that she had been given the chance to experience all the joys that came with being a mother. Avery felt helpless in that moment, but he knew deep down he'd do anything to help take some of her pain away. Afterward, they moved on to disassembling the dresser, rocking chair and bookshelf with just as much care until all the furniture that once occupied this room has now been reduced to pieces in cardboard boxes ready to be taken away by Goodwill. Once they were done with taking down the crib Darlene looked around sadly at what used to be her dream nursery but now just felt like an empty room with nothing of memories left in there for her. During this time, they each had finished their glass of wine. Avery was feeling the effects of the wine even though he hadn't drunk as much as Darlene. Darlene got up. "Ok, let's get all this stuff down into the garage. I want to end this night on a good note." She wiped away her remaining tears. One by one, they carried everything into the garage. "So, want to go into the living room and watch a movie or something with me?" Darlene asked as she closed the garage door behind her. "It is already late. What about work?" Avery asked. "I didn't tell you but we have been told to both take off the remainder of the week. They will be installing keycards to access each level at work to make sure we are safe." As Darlene looked at Avery trying to read him. "Does that mean they haven't fired John for what he did?" Avery looked upset and concerned. "I don't know. I will be following up with HR tomorrow and will find out. Let's try not to think about work or anything upsetting or sad for the rest of the night, shall we?" Darlene suggested. When Avery nodded, she continued, "Why don't you pour us both another glass of wine and get comfortable? I am going upstairs to change into something more comfortable this evening." "Sounds good." Avery agreed as he walked into the living room to enjoy the rest of the night with Darlene. Avery could very easily feel the extra thickness of the diaper and the crinkle was evident even with the onesie on and the sweatpants. While Darlene was upstairs, Avery began to go over what happened today and how odd it was getting changed by Darlene the second time. She was much more in control and treated him like he was just an infant. As humiliating as it was to have his diaper changed and put into a onesie, there was something oddly comforting about it. Darlene didn't seem like she had a problem with it either. All his foster family made everything feel like he had always been a nuisance, and everything they did for him was because he was being overly needy. Darlene treated him with compassion. Something he had never felt before. He tried to shake the feelings aside and focused on pouring wine for the night.

Chapter Four Ayoka sat quietly in English class, re-reading the same passage in her book over and over. It was a book she had read before, but all the words kept turning into numbers. Sticker counts were never accurate; every time Aya - or any student - tried to count the stickers on the covered wall in the courtyard, they would get different numbers. Not knowing just made it harder for Aya. Already three classes had gone by. If she could just make it through the other two... "Aya?" Mrs. Airhart said again. Aya looked up in confusion, which quickly changed to embarrassment. She hadn't been paying attention. "Could you continue the passage, please?" "...um... sure..." Aya flipped the page in her book and looked down at the words. Dozens. Hundreds. A guess wouldn't get her anywhere. After a moment of hesitation, she sunk into her chair in defeat. No stickers this class either... "Top of page 30," Mrs. Airhart sighed, disappointment in her tone. Aya was two pages behind. She flipped them through and stood up before reading aloud from her book. "For some minutes Alice stood without speaking, looking out in all directions over the country, and a most curious country it was. There were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it from side to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a number of little green hedges, that reached from brook to brook. 'I declare, it's marked out just like a large chessboard!' Alice said at last. 'There ought to be some men moving about somewhere -- and so there are!' She added in a tone of delight, and her heart began to beat quick with excitement as she went on. 'It's a great huge game of chess that's being played, all over the world, if this is the world at all, you know. Oh, what fun it is! How I wish I was one of them! I wouldn't mind being a Pawn, if only I might join... though of course I should like to be a Queen, best.'" Aya glanced rather shyly at the teacher as she said this, but her instructor only smiled pleasantly and said: "Very good." The 'Very Good' kept Aya going until the end of class, until Mrs. Airhart passed out the stickers and Aya left again with none. She wanted to argue that her good reading skills should have earned her something, but the teachers knew better than her. How could she even think such a thing? Maybe Aya wasn't a good girl after all… When Aya stepped into the hall, she felt like she had lead in her shoes. She almost bumped headlong into a guy from another class, but Summer pulled her out of his path just in time. "Have you ever seen a cross-country race before?" Summer asked after pulling her friend out of harm’s way. It was an obtuse question, perhaps out of nowhere, but Summer wasn’t that frivolous with her words. "Sometimes the men run and run and run for hours and hours and hours," Summer went on. "And they can stop at some places to breathe, rest, or have some water. But if they do that, then everyone else will get ahead of them. But if they don't, then they'll be too tired to stay in first place." The metaphor was rather transparent. "I'm fine..." Aya muttered. But she wasn't. The stickers felt like faraway dreams, references in history books or mirages of a well in a desert. Even the one in her pocket felt imaginary, like she would reach in for it and it wouldn't be there. The thought made her sick to her stomach. What was the point of any of it? Why was she trying? Clearly she couldn't do it. She couldn't be good. She couldn't make the teachers proud of her. She was wasting space and air and resources. She would be better off flinging herself off the roof of the school. The only thing stopping her was the possibility it wouldn't kill her outright. "You're so fine that you're crying, huh?" Summer asked. Aya didn’t even notice; she had an empty stare as she walked despondently alongside Summer, tears dripping down both cheeks. "I'm fine..." Aya repeated as she wiped away her tears. But Summer wasn't having it. "Go to the daycare," she said. "I have another class," Aya told her, almost automatically, like a programmed response. It was her last chance. All in. She would either win this hand and everything would be fine, or she would lose and... That wasn't a gamble Summer was willing to take. She took Aya by the hand and dragged her down the hall at a reckless pace, so much so that it was a miracle neither girl succumbed to the whims of gravity. Summer only stopped when she marched her friend in front of the door marked 'Daycare' in pretty letters inside colorful blocks. The daycare was on the other end of the school. Summer would be late to class for sure, and that meant - by the time they were outside the daycare - Aya would be too. Panic rose in her chest and she shook her head, trying to tug her wrist out of her best friend's hand. Tears dripped down her cheeks in steady streams, like a brook in the woods. "I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't!" "You can. You will. You must. You are." Summer was going to be in trouble for her tardiness, and that was hard for her because - like every other student at the school - she had a primal need to be good. But some things were more important, in the right moments, and in this moment Aya’s safety was one of those things. Without letting go of Aya’s wrist, she knocked on the daycare door. The door opened and a tall woman in a starchy pink dress and a cow-printed apron stood in the entryway. Aya quickly dropped her gaze and felt a heat fill her cheeks. Last time she had been here - months ago! - she had done embarrassing things with that woman. Embarrassing things that filled her stomach with butterflies and her heart with pride. Even in recollection, Aya's anxiety fell. "Hello, little ones," the woman said happily, with a voice that rang with the sweetness and simplicity of warm caramel. "How can I help you?" Before Aya could think to stop her, Summer tugged on Aya's skirt and rummaged around in her pockets. She finally pulled out the little note from Mr. Margo that morning: a hall pass. "Hey!" Aya shouted, snatching it back. But the tall woman plucked it from Aya's fingers and read it over. "Alright, come on in," she said. "But... I have class..." Aya tried to protest. "Now now. You wanna be a good girl, right? Just follow me; that's what good girls do." It's what good girls do was a very powerful combination of words; if fae could be compelled by using their names, so too could students at this school be herded like precious little sheep at the whims of the right words. Without waiting to see if Aya would follow, the woman turned around and walked into the room. Aya looked nervously at Summer, then stepped in after the daycare lady. So much for those stickers... The door closed behind Aya, and - with the distraction of the hallway locked away - Aya focused on the world she'd stepped into. Candlelight danced in stained glass sconces, coloring the room. Little cut-outs in the glass made star shapes that flickered and danced on the walls. There were sounds of praise, of cooing, of giggling, of stiff plastic aprons and diapers crinkling. The air felt prickly and tingly, but in a good way, like the air before a thunderstorm. The daycare was one large room with five alcoves in the shape of a star. The door Aya had entered through was in one of those alcoves. In the middle, there was a sunken area full of cushions, blankets, toys, and plushies. The other four alcoves were semi-private areas, each with a changing table, a cabinet, and plush chair for more private, personal attention. As Aya followed the path of her daycare attendant into one of the distant alcoves, she felt dread, deja-vu, excitement, fear, dizziness, and a dozen other feelings of which she couldn’t assign words. "I, um... if I could get back to class soon... maybe if we could make this quick..." Aya's voice wavered with anxiety. "You're such a diligent student, hm?" the woman cooed, stopping inside one of the alcoves. Aya stopped too. "Dedication is such a wonderful quality. I'm so proud of you." Aya's eyes lit up with excitement. "But," the woman continued, "pushing yourself too hard isn't helping anybody, is it?" Aya shook her head, agreeing without a second thought. "So let me take care of you, okay? It would make me so happy." Aya's head was filled with warm, fuzzy feelings. Make her happy. Aya could do that! She nodded quickly, offering her self to the woman like a platter of free samples. "Good girl!" the woman cooed, warming the young student's cheeks. "Do you remember my name?" "Um..." Aya nodded her head, then looked down at her feet. The excitement of the moment seemed to wash away in her embarrassment. But she knew a good girl would use her words. "Mommy Moo..." "Good girl," the woman said again, leaning down to plant a kiss squarely in the middle of Aya's forehead. The heat from her lips radiated through her body like poison, soaking into every cell, until she felt like a light breeze could break the surface tension of her skin and she would melt into a puddle on the padded floor. "Now up with your arms for Mommy Moo, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl, and a good girl should get to wear the prettiest things: soft, frilly, lacy, lovely things." With no regard for Aya's body, Mommy Moo unbuttoned her shirt and took it off. The waistband of her diaper was plainly visible, and her bare breasts were on full display for the room. That was the first time Aya even noticed the others: a few students in baby dresses and onesies, some playing on the floor with toys, some in the quiet alcoves in the corners of the room. There were two other staff members, a man and a woman, tending to their charges. Aya felt a pit in her stomach: shame. Adults shouldn't be naked around strangers, but... "You aren't an adult," Mommy Moo reminded her, a smile on her lips. "Adults don't wear diapers. Adults don't go to school. Adults don't need Mommy Moo to take care of them. But you need me, don't you? Now be a good girl and tell me what you are." Aya looked up into her beautiful blue eyes and bit her lip. She never liked saying it, but after she did everything felt better. The shame would go away. "A baby," Aya admitted, and Mommy Moo gave her another kiss on the forehead. This time, Aya nearly fell over. Melting point reached. Surface tension broken. But at the last minute, Mommy Moo caught her arm to steady her. "Ah ah, maybe you're too little for walking?" Mommy Moo offered. "Are you?" Aya blushed. She could say no. Either answer was the right answer. But if she said yes, Mommy Moo's praise would extend past the verbal. She would pick her up. She would cradle her. She would carry her. So Aya nodded her head. "I'm too little," she admitted. "Thought so," Mommy Moo smiled, then picked Aya up under her arms and set her on her hip in nothing but a skirt and diaper. "That's a good girl, for being honest. Now let's get you dressed proper."

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.

I always sleep in a nappy and plastic pants to help combat any leaks.