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Diaper Dimension Works Catalogued I just got on this kick of deciding I wanted to catalog every Diaper Dimension tale I knew about or could find. As I'm sure most of you can guess I've not only been an authoress, but a fan of the genre for a long time. Part of what has always complicated things for people to do a new list is the vast places that there are works spread about. I have not gone through DeviantArt, so I suspect there are some titles there I do not have on this list. Where possible, I've listed links for WattPad, as the links do save better. Then I've used DailyDiapers, and then the other places. In total I cataloged 234 Shorts, Novellas, and Novels! To authors who have works on here, please let me know if you have better places to find your works. Ausdpr and a few others were hit by the stupid Patreon crash, so I'm not sure if everything was moved to your new platform. If I saw it was on Ream or Subscribestar I linked to that page for those authors. I'm going to list these in two sections, one completed, and one Incomplete. I'm organizing by Author as some of these have sequels for some authors. If you have suggestions or see something missing please let me know via a comment or a PM. I know Ausdpr did this years ago, we'll see if this one can stand the test of time for a bit too. Just FYI works less than 10k words were usually listed as Shorts, Novellas are generally 10-30k (A few close to the 10k were classified up), and Novels are 30k+. I know this can't be a perfect list at this point, but it's more than I think anyone else has created at this point. If you have a work that you feel should be on here that I've missed, please fill out this form. https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeHA2mzhZQVw8LfdBoNH7xt7Jc-Flh5bj05AWNBJx1MAWgAmg/viewform?usp=sf_link Leave a comment or message me and I'll make sure to get to it when I can. Completed Diaper Dimension Works Title Author Short/Novella/Novel Completed? Location Done Adulting (Volume 1) Alex Bridges Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/67274-done-adulting-volume-1-now-available-on-amazon-with-a-preview-of-volume-2/ Done Adulting (Volume 2) Alex Bridges Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/69412-done-adulting-vol-2-final-chapter-posted-122120/ Bryce's Big Act Ausdpr Novel Yes Unknown? Field Research Ausdpr Novel Yes Lulu - Strange Adventures New Stepmommy Ausdpr Novel Yes Lulu - Strange Adventures Extended Vacation Ausdpr Novella Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Perfect House Hunt Ausdpr Novella Yes Lulu - Strange Adventures Vacation Changes Ausdpr Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/62374-vacation-changes-diaper-dimension-story/&do=findComment&comment=1450670 Abbey's Unfinished Report Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/63008-diaper-dimension-short-abbeys-unfinished-report/&do=findComment&comment=1471644 Adventures in Little Sitting Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Bag, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Being Considerate in the Diaper Dimension Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Big-Three-Five, The Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Christmas Tale, A Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/51200-a-christmas-tale-a-diaper-dimension-story/&do=findComment&comment=1038647 Common Meeting, A Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/49350-diaper-dimension-a-common-meeting/&do=findComment&comment=974244 Creative Freedoms Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Daddy's Girls Ausdpr Short Yes Lulu - Strange Adventures Earth Review Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Fantastic Troupe Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Happy Family, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/45124-the-stairwell-the-happy-family-2-diaper-dimension-shorts/&do=findComment&comment=833757 Impressing the Boss Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Milestones Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Mr. Richfield Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/62184-mr-richfield-diap-dimension-short-story New Boss, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public No Diapers Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Normal Little's Life, A Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/51067-a-normal-littles-life-a-diaper-dimension-tale/&do=findComment&comment=1034046 Princess Troubles Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Prize, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Public Changes Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Safe & Sound Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Sanctuary, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://spankalot-erotica.blogspot.com/2020/12/the-sanctuary-diaper-dimension.html Solar Opposites Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Stairwell, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/45124-the-stairwell-the-happy-family-2-diaper-dimension-shorts/&do=findComment&comment=833757 Trick, The Ausdpr Short Yes Unknown? Way the Cookie Crumbles, The Ausdpr Short Yes https://reamstories.com/ausdpr/public Big Opening, The Auspr Short Yes Unknown? Blowout, The Baby Anna Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/81813-the-blowout/&do=findComment&comment=1970107 Cuddle Baby Anna Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/85579-cuddle/&do=findComment&comment=2031723 Little Lover, A Baby Anna Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/83602-a-little-lover/ Taming Your Amazon Baby Anna Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/81798-taming-your-amazon/&do=findComment&comment=1969828 Barbara Davis, Why Thirteen? CYOA BbyKimmy Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/64979-choose-your-own-adventure-barbara-davis-why-thirteen/&do=findComment&comment=1541857 It's the Little Choices BbyKimmy Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61811-its-the-little-choices-new-epilogue-updated-28/&do=findComment&comment=1430671 Making the Best of It: A Tale of Love and Acceptance in Two Acts BbyKimmy Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/57509-making-the-best-of-it-a-tale-of-love-and-acceptance-in-two-acts/&do=findComment&comment=1278683 Bedtime Tale in Eire, A BbyKimmy Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61940-a-bedtime-tale-in-eire/&do=findComment&comment=1436301 Wishes Do Come True BbyKimmy Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/64607-wishes-do-come-true/&do=findComment&comment=1526597 Dimensional Glitch Bionicle3 Short Yes https://www.deviantart.com/bionicle3/art/Dimensional-Glitch-Diaper-Dimension-Story-852254255 Thesis Trap Bionicle3 Short Yes https://www.deviantart.com/bionicle3/art/Thesis-Trap-A-Diaper-Dimension-Story-912659669 Crime Doesn't Pay CapitalM Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79081-crime-doesnt-pay-completed-81021/&do=findComment&comment=1918161 Girl of My Choosing Cutie ButtCrusader Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/69716-a-girl-of-my-choosing-updatedfinished/&do=findComment&comment=1698596 Memories of the Before Time Cutie ButtCrusader Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/78589-memories-of-the-before-time-one-shot/&do=findComment&comment=1910741 Together Forever Cutie ButtCrusader Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/68805-together-forever/&do=findComment&comment=1670367 Corporate Takeover Cya Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/76332-corporate-takeover-diaper-dimension-the-end/&do=findComment&comment=1864548 Future of Amazonian Fertility, The Cya Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/80761-the-future-of-amazonian-fertility-diaper-dimension-the-end/ Last Moments Daddy Wuffster Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/80411-last-moments/&do=findComment&comment=1945736 That Damn Remote DAQ Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/65589-that-damn-remote/&do=findComment&comment=1567017 Backed-Up Dark Dweller Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/85037-backed-up/&do=findComment&comment=2024540 Little Hen Dark Dweller Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/85117-little-hen/&do=findComment&comment=2025738 Chase, The Daymare Short Yes Subscribestar Unlucky Day, Turned Lucky DiaperBoy37 Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61467-diaper-dimension-unlucky-day-turned-lucky-complete/ Quizzes in the Diaper Dimension DiaperRebel Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/72502-quizzes-in-the-diaper-dimension/&do=findComment&comment=1775981 Presents, The DireKing Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/80837-the-presents-12-after-midnight-completed/ Ellie's Eye Opening Experience DKN117 Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/63236-ellies-eye-opening-experience-repost-finished/ Being Little in a Big World Elfy Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79551-being-little-in-a-big-world/&do=findComment&comment=1927105 Cathy's New Room Mate Elfy Novel Yes Ream/Subscribestar? Battle at Bedtime, The FatherFish Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/88273-the-battle-at-bedtime/&do=findComment&comment=2074045 Mission Accomplished FatherFish Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/87154-mission-accomplished/&do=findComment&comment=2057092 Little Shield and Sword Genossin Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79545-little-shield-and-sword-epilogue/&do=findComment&comment=1927009 Don't Trust Amazons Guilyn Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61200-little-time-daycare-aka-dta-rewritten-ch-45/&do=findComment&comment=1409104 Festivity Herezulo Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/65774-festivity/&do=findComment&comment=1576346 Omission Herezulo Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/67134-omission/&do=findComment&comment=1620468 Chasing Emily InkuHime Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77848-chasing-emily/ Games of Chance InkuHime Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77850-games-of-chance-games-of-skill/ Working on the Underground Railway InkuHime Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/60747-chasing-emily-other-stories-complete/&do=findComment&comment=1391558 Hermit Crab's Dilemna InkuHime Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77851-hermit-crab%E2%80%99s-dilemma/&do=findComment&comment=1896121 I Am Island Dreamer Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/66254-i-am-completed-0225/ Any Other Day LandyKupo Short Yes https://www.deviantart.com/landykupo/art/Any-Other-Day-Diaper-Dimension-Story-944411982 Little in Love - Book 1 LittleFallenPrincess Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77769-book-1-little-in-love/ Love in Dimensions (Book 5) LittleFallenPrincess Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/81773-love-in-dimensions-ch-60-epilogue-92522-complete/&do=findComment&comment=1969536 Regression Echo LittleFallenPrincess Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/83513-regression-echo-ch-40-1723/ Portal in the Basement, The littleTomas Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/69182-the-portal-in-the-basement-updated-to-chapter-17-finale/&do=findComment&comment=1687332 Down LongRifle Novella Yes https://www.deviantart.com/long-rifle/art/Down-By-Long-Rifle-Part-one-491738695 Corruption LongRifle Short Yes https://www.deviantart.com/long-rifle/art/Corruption-922604428 Fight LongRifle Short Yes Unknown? A Stuffy's Tale: How An Elephant Saved Their Little LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/343699912-how-an-elephant-saved-their-little-a-diaper A Stuffy's Tale: One Bunny's Journey in the Diaper Dimension LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/335309812-a-stuffy%27s-tale-one-bunny%27s-journey-in-the-diaper A Walk Into The Unknown LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/352323119-a-walk-into-the-unknown-a-diaper-dimension-story Dash's Redemption: A Stuffy's Tale LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/364355114-dash%27s-redemption-a-stuffy%27s-tale-and-diaper Opening, The LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/355900175-the-opening-a-diaper-dimension-story Project Nurture LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/347888396-project-nurture-a-diaper-dimension-story The CONtingency (Book 2) LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/360312545-the-contingency-a-diaper-dimension-story The CONvention (Book 1) LostBBBoyBear Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/338215258-the-convention-a-diaper-dimension-story Tell Me More: A Diaper Dimension Story LostBBBoyBear Novella Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/339997104-tell-me-more-a-diaper-dimension-story Little Underground LtlGary Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/83814-little-underground-a-3-part-adventure/&do=findComment&comment=2003449 Freedom at Last MaybeMee Novella Yes Unknown? Wrong Turn MaybeMee Novella Yes Subscribestar Digital Remains MaybeMee Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/66432-digital-remains-short/&do=findComment&comment=1600000 It's Christmas, After All MaybeMee Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/66411-its-christmas-after-all-short/&do=findComment&comment=1599305 Lock and Key (Prologue?) MaybeMee Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/66985-lock-and-key-prologue/&do=findComment&comment=1615864 Portal MightyBirdy Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79709-portal/&do=findComment&comment=1930081 Cathy the Little in the BIG City Mommy Rosemary Novel Yes https://dommyrosemary.tumblr.com/post/161899782989/cathy-the-little-in-the-big-city Blue Day Operational Systems Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/90311-blue-day-a-diaper-dimension-story/ Conspiracy (Unfair Fan Fiction) Operational Systems Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/89663-conspiracy-a-vignette-based-on-unfair/ Self-Diagnosis Pelo-Dee Short Yes https://www.deviantart.com/pelo-dee/art/Self-diagnosis-990707083 Ersatz Personalias Novel Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Fair is Fair 1 Personalias Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77526-fair-is-fair/&do=findComment&comment=1888379 Fair is Fair 2: Special Personalias Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Fair is Fair 3: Middle Management Personalias Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79929-middle-management/&do=findComment&comment=1933794 Fair is Fair 4: Help Personalias Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/80173-help/&do=findComment&comment=1939139 Rattled Personalias Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/82532-rattled-complete/ Things Work Out Personalias Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Close Enough Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/84676-close-enough/&do=findComment&comment=2019544 Documentary, The Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79786-the-documentary/&do=findComment&comment=1931466 Dynamic Switch Personalias Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Escape Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/84724-escape/&do=findComment&comment=2020258 Happy Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/87094-happy/&do=findComment&comment=2056259 New Programming Personalias Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Only Child Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/85080-only-child/&do=findComment&comment=2025131 Retirement Personalias Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/79321-retirement-a-diaper-dimension-story/ Reunion Personalias Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Second Thoughts Personalias Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/personalias Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension Princess Pottypants Novel Yes https://princesspottypants.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/alisas-adventures-in-the-diaper-dimension-chapter-1/ Little Rest, A Princess Pottypants Novel Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Twins, The Princess Pottypants Novel Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Adoption, The Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Chart, The Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Little Visitor, A Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Plan, The Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Professional Help Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Thief's Holidays, A (CYOA) Princess Pottypants Novella Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Audition, The Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Christmas Wishes Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Decision, The Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Equals Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Ladylike Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Like and Subscribe Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Mistakes Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Naomi and Oliver Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Old College Try Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Perfect Baby, The Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Pity Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Playdate, The Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Pre-Med to Preschool Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Prove It! Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Quality Control Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Receiving an Education Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Simple Plan, A Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Wedding of Your Dreams, The Princess Pottypants Short Yes https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Healing Random3435 Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/78292-healing-epilogue/&do=findComment&comment=1905752 Understanding Random3435 Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77786-understanding-epilogue/ Nerissa's Home for Diaper Girls Snackers Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61402-nerissa%E2%80%99s-home-for-diaper-girls-repost/ Snippets From Ms. Fairchild’s School for Maturity and Etiquette Snackers Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61404-snippets-from-ms-fairchild%E2%80%99s-school-for-maturity-and-etiquette-repost/&do=findComment&comment=1413505 Alterations (Exchanged Book 3) Sofia Hammerstein Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/242267900-alterations-exchanged-book-3 Exchanged Sofia Hammerstein Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/236189810-exchanged In-Between Sofia Hammerstein Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/255771604-in-between Little Hope (Exchanged Book 2) Sofia Hammerstein Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/239865685-little-hope Seems Too Good Sofia Hammerstein Novel Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/227003200-seems-too-good Undercover Tour Sofia Hammerstein Novella Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/227131705-undercover-tour Diamond Tours Sofia Hammerstein Short Yes https://www.wattpad.com/story/227009928-diamond-tours Amazons Lose Interest, The Sparkle Dust Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77462-the-amazons-lose-interest/&do=findComment&comment=1887473 Little History, A Unsaved Novel Yes No full Copy Posted Baelorn and Melina Widowmaker Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61276-baelorn-melina-repost/&do=findComment&comment=1410845 Silver Widowmaker Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/63576-silver/&do=findComment&comment=1489741 Raven Widowmaker Novella Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61330-raven/ Accidental Crossing, An Widowmaker Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/72303-an-accidental-crossing/&do=findComment&comment=1770268 Right Fit, The Widowmaker Short Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/74663-the-right-fit/&do=findComment&comment=1829952 Promise, The Xylophone Novel Yes Unknown? Sorceress of Terror Yas9119 Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/76641-sorceresse-of-terrorin-timeout-completed/&do=findComment&comment=1870683 Little Conditions YourDiapersCute Novel Yes https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/76195-little-conditions-qa-posted-81621/&do=findComment&comment=1861462 Incomplete Works Title Author Short/Novella/Novel Completed? Location Interdimensional Baby AlextheAlex Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/90176-interdimensional-baby-chapter-3-up-now-last-updated-22424/&do=findComment&comment=2107744 Damaged Goods AndrianD Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/75468-damaged-goods-updated-4-23-2021/&do=findComment&comment=1847057 Catch Me if You Can AOWriter Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/69492-catch-me-if-you-can-pro-ch1/&do=findComment&comment=1695932 Return of the Amazons BabyGamer Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61120-return-of-the-amazons-edited/&do=findComment&comment=1407186 Student's Pet BabyStevie26 Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/60676-students-pet/&do=findComment&comment=1388828 Biggest Little Vacation, The BbyKimmy Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/61989-the-biggest-little-vacation-chapter-9-updated-223/&do=findComment&comment=1437604 Biggest of Desires, The BbyKimmy Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/63441-the-biggest-of-desires-chapter-21-updated-619/&do=findComment&comment=1485339 More Littles with Sugar than Salt Bladderbrain Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/87982-more-littles-with-sugar-than-salt-ch-18-93023/&do=findComment&comment=2069786 Stork! 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Divorce Proceedings LilKevin Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/81923-divorce-proceedings-chapters-1-7-updated-4722/&do=findComment&comment=1971940 Little Hunters, The Lionsheart Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/66344-the-little-hunters-april-3rd-2019-update/ Little Marionette Little Writer Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/81932-little-marionette/&do=findComment&comment=1972042 Little in Love - Book 2 LittleFallenPrincess Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/89344-little-in-love-2-chapter-27-22824/ Age of the Amazons, The littleTomas Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/73598-the-age-of-the-amazons-chapter-4-update/&do=findComment&comment=1804035 A Small Break from Teaching LostBBBoyBear Novel No https://www.wattpad.com/story/366452774-a-small-break-from-teaching-a-diaper-dimension Portal Accident LtlGary Novella No Life of Aaron Case, The Lucifer666 Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/82806-the-life-of-aaron-case-chapter-3/&do=findComment&comment=1984554 Illegal Immigrant MaybeMee Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/69642-illegal-immigrant-12032023-ch1920-important-subscribestar-update/ Gilded Crib, A MCraft Novel No Unknown? Cianville MfMood Short No Unknown? Meredith - A Littles Broker in the Diaper Dimension Ozziebee Novel No https://www.adisc.org/forum/threads/meredith.112495/ In Utero Ozziebee Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/68130-in-utero/&do=findComment&comment=1650853 Little Survivor Panther Cub Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/75816-little-survivor-a-diaper-dimension-story-updated-to-chapter-8-10152022/&do=findComment&comment=1853964 Little Monster Panther Cub Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/84431-little-monster-a-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-3-1219/&do=findComment&comment=2014694 Sucker and the Sly, The Paradox-Unintentional Novella No Unknown? Unfair Personalias Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/74750-unfair-a-diaper-dimension-novel-chapters-111-112-uploaded/&do=findComment&comment=1832078 Compromise Princess Pottypants Novel No https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Derrick's Awakening Princess Pottypants Novel No https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Sebby's New Life Princess PottyPants Novella No https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants?tag=SebbysNewLife Babysitter, The Princess Pottypants Short No https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants Wedding, The Princess Pottypants Short No https://subscribestar.adult/princesspottypants?tag=TheWedding Imprints Resort Princessmaryllis Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/82862-my-frist-story-imprints-resort-chapter-5-12252022/&do=findComment&comment=1985545 Living in Harmony, Becoming Stronger Together Salinas98 Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/85382-living-in-harmony-becoming-stronger-together/&do=findComment&comment=2029455 Origins of a Dimension Sephy Short No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/65973-origins-of-a-dimension/&do=findComment&comment=1585319 When All Else Fails Sheadoll Novel No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/71441-when-all-else-fails-ch-23-22420/&do=findComment&comment=1741276 Little Problems With My So Called Friends Snackers Novella No https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/73053-little-problems-with-my-so-called-friends-p2-apr-6-2020/&do=findComment&comment=1788596 Lights! 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Chapter 94: Story Time BETH WATCHED CARLY look up at his grandmother in anticipation. “So, who is she?” he asked impatiently. “Did she tell you about the trip we adopted Bella?” Carly nodded, “I think most of the story?” “The dolphins?” Carly nodded, “I saw the picture you have in the hallway too.” She smiled, “That’s probably one of my favorite pictures with Stacy. She told you about the man we ran into?” She nodded. “And the girl he threw in the water when he was trying to escape?” “Mom said she saved her?” “Turns out that was Lilly’s mother.” “No way!” Carly said, clearly thinking back through all that she knew about her. “Didn’t Mom say she was only a toddler, though?” Amanda nodded, “We actually thought she was about five, but it turns out she was just a really short ten-year-old at the time. Her family didn’t care to correct any of the public records and be known as the victim, so we never found out she was older. Anyway, she seemed like she must have been younger?” “Was she a Big then?” Beth asked, “Lilly’s not short?” “Her mom, Kylie, just barely reached eight-foot-six,” Amanda said, “So really a Tweener, but since her parents were Bigs, she kind of slides into that classification still.” Amanda shrugged, “Lilly’s dad is about twelve feet tall, so she outgrew her mom by quite a bit. Kylie apparently had her when she was only fifteen. With her parents’ help, she had still managed to graduate high school and college early in spite of the teenage pregnancy. Lilly was an early graduate from high school at seventeen. I never dreamed of that connection because they're so close in age. I know it’s why I didn’t think of her at first.” “So… Umm…? What happened?” Beth asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard this story?” “Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Connor said. “Grandma, why don’t you tell it since you were there?” She smiled at us, “I’ll tell it, but let’s get you ready for bed first?” “Huh?” Connor asked. “I seem to remember both of you saying you needed a shower when you got in the car?” “Right!” Beth said. As she said that, Beth couldn’t help but think back to the stickiness of those stupid PooPloders! She winced. “So, Beth, why don’t you take a shower? Carly and I will take care of her in her room, and then we’ll meet for storytime in her room in about thirty minutes?” Carly’s face turned bright red, and Beth suddenly realized she had never told her she was okay with her revelation. “Okay,” Beth said to Amanda. She turned to Carly and hugged her. “Carly, I’m okay with what you told me.” She wanted to say so much more, but the relief in her eyes was genuine, and she guessed she’d made the right call. “See you in about a half hour?” Amanda suggested. “Yeah, that should work,” she agreed. Without a word, Amanda stood up, gathered her grandchild in her arms, and the two walked out. Beth wanted to say so much more, but at the moment, she could do nothing but remember the feeling of stickiness that she’d somehow been distracted from. Gathering her stuff, she hurried into the attached bathroom and soon stood in the shower’s warm jets. I HAD BEEN uncertain if Beth would hate me when I told her the truth, but the fact that she said she was okay with me helped me feel better. ‘Will she still want to go out with me? That’s a whole other relationship?’ I acknowledged. Of course, growing up with two moms, that certainly wasn’t something I would have a problem with. The idea of being with a boy had always made me feel gross and was part of why, while I knew I was trans, relationships had always been complicated in my head. Grandma set me down on the floor of the bathroom. She pulled the hair ties that I’d forgotten all about from my hair and ran her fingers through it. “Those do look cute on you,” she told me. “And the matching hairstyle and color you two have is definitely cute! If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed you were sisters.” I blushed but quickly pulled my shirt off, even as she surprised me by unbuttoning the pants. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Connor, did you know you had another accident?” “Huh?” I said, looking down. “I…” My stomach churned a bit. “So I take that as a no?” I shook my head, “No… I guess it’s not much, but… why?” Grandma sighed, “I’m not sure, but we’ll need to figure it out. Let’s get you in the bath; after you change back tomorrow from filming, we’ll see if it’s still an issue. It might just be a problem with the nanites moving your organs to different spots. Maybe your brain just hasn’t mapped everything yet?” I nodded. Grandma pulled the Pull-Up off my body by ripping open the sides and had a baby wipe in her hand a second later to wipe me clean. “Gotta be careful with those parts,” she told me, gently wiping my opening. After she tossed the wipe into the Pull-Up I nodded. She helped me into the shower and left me to it as I quickly washed my body, hair, and then my body again. I scrubbed the area the PooPloders had leaked off the underlayer multiple times, feeling like it was probably worse than the one time I’d had poop on me a couple weeks ago! I washed my hair and felt it instantly freeze back up into its shape before remembering the nanites on it. ‘Ugh,’ I thought, even as pigtails reformed on my head without something tying them up. “What?” I wondered. Before turning the water off, I used one last set of body soap on my diaper area. Grandma heard the water turn off and had a towel in hand to dry me. “What happened with your hair?” She asked. “Good question!” I shook my head, “I think the nanites in my hair must have reactivated in the water?” “They used nanites on your hair?” She asked, seeming a little concerned. “They wanted to ensure Beth and I had matching hair colors?” Her frown made me nervous, but she didn’t say anything else as she wrapped me in the giant towel and set me down on the counter. “Here,” she said, handing me a U-shaped toothbrush that did its thing in my mouth for me. A couple minutes later, a beep said it was done, so I pulled it out and rinsed the toothpaste. “What phone did they use to connect to your nanites for your hair?” Grandma asked as she carried me to the changing table.” “Mine?” “Let’s get you dressed, and then we’ll have them go to a loose style unless you want to sleep like this?” “I’d rather have it down,” I agreed, “Just in a ponytail like normal. Though it feels a bit weird since it’s shorter!” “I’m surprised they left it that long. I think I would have gone to a shorter bob,” she said, placing me on the table and digging around for a diaper. When she held one in her hand, I realized she thought I needed an actual diaper again, and I blushed. “They talked about it,” I said, trying to distract myself as I counted the accidents. ‘One after the four bottles, one in the restaurant, one just now… and there was a little bit inside the diaper after the last scene. I had four accidents today?!?’ My blood turned cold, but I said nothing else as Grandma finished taping the diaper shut. “I told your Aunt Bella you’d be her little niece tonight, so she made something for you.” Grandma held out a purple-footed sleeper with pink hearts and unicorns printed on it. I blushed but let her help me into the garment. A knock came on the door, and Beth came in. “You decent?” she asked, even as she must have realized Grandma had just finished zipping up the footed sleeper, which I now realized she matched. I laughed, “Really, Grandma?” “I figured your moms deserved a photo to preserve the memory here. Let’s get your hair reset, though, first,” she pointed me towards my bag where my phone was waiting. I accessed the app and managed to get it to go to a ‘no-style’ setting that caused it to flatten into a loose pile of hair at the back of my neck. A few quick brushes through my hair, and I could quickly throw it into a ponytail with a hairband. “Let’s put that higher,” Beth smiled at me and motioned for the brush. A few moments later, she was satisfied as the hair was tied up like my sisters did for cheerleading. I watched her make her hair match mine. “Okay, my two beauty princesses all ready?” Grandma teased. I stuck my tongue out but went along with it as she directed Beth to sit beside me on the bed and pulled me into her side. The picture was snapped a couple times on her phone before she showed me the picture that was clearly two sisters, not the boyfriend and girlfriend from last week. “Shoot me,” Beth whispered beside me, even as she pulled me into her lap. I giggled and leaned back into her larger body. I was very comfortable like that, and maybe even more so than with Grandma because she wasn’t quite as big. “You promised me story time?” Beth asked. “And you said you knew more?” I pressed. “Well, let’s get caught up on what happened with your mom first?” She said as she sat in the giant rocking chair, which she pulled closer to my bed. Beth squeezed me and began rubbing her hands lightly down the fabric on my arms. “So this was in the first couple of weeks Stacy was here,” Grandma started. “She’d made it through the placement tests with flying colors, and really, she’d adjusted to our world quite well! Fred and I decided it would be fun to take a surprise trip to Selegnasol before her classes began!” “I love that park!” Beth said. “You’ve been?” I asked. She nodded, “It’s safe to go visit. I wouldn’t hang out in any other part of that state for long as a Little, mind you, but since my mom and dad were with us, we were safe. Dad, of course, had his protective detail too… But, anyway, we’ve gone a few times?” “It sounds so cool,” I admitted, having looked up some updates from even when my mom had been there over thirty years ago. “I don’t think we’ll be able to make a trip happen, unfortunately,” Grandma consolingly told me. I shrugged, “I didn’t come here for that. Anyway, keep telling the story?” I encouraged. “Anyway, we were boarding the plane, and this tiny woman came and sat beside me. I held Stacy in my lap, and we pretended she was just a regular infant then. Fred was in the window seat, but the three of us ended up talking after we realized one of the flight attendants was up to no good. They poisoned her, and it was only Stacy’s quick thinking that saved her from pooping her panties right then so they could claim her.” “How’d she do that?” Beth asked. “Same way I dealt with the LittleGo,” I told her. “Mine’s on a necklace, though,” I added. She nodded, “So you saved her from pooping her panties, but then what?” “When we figured out what was happening, I offered to help her by making the stewardess think we were adopting her first. I had diapered her first, meaning I had the better claim over her.” “This is Bella?” Beth asked. She nodded, “Yes, so you can guess the fake adoption ended up being more permanent. When we got off the plane, we were threatened about her as someone else had lured her to Selegnasol. We hadn’t realized that it was part of a group called Venture…” Beth gasped, “They’re really evil!” Grandma nodded, “Yeah, and they really wanted Bella… so badly they chased us around. I know you have seen Carly here swim, but her mommy was just as much of a fish in the water.” “Dolphin, Grandma, dolphin,” I said with a smile. She smirked, “Anyway, Looney World had an attraction you could pay to swim with the dolphins, so we decided to surprise Stacy with it. She had an absolute blast with it after we proved to the workers she could swim well enough. We both had the time of our lives, and the four of us ended up showing up to watch their show a while later. One of their Venture operatives tried to convince us to hand over Bella, but Stacy was up to her usual tricks then. She somehow opened up her baby bottle and accurately threw all of the liquid onto the man’s crotch. He ran for it as Stacy started some appropriate loud shouting of, ‘If he has accidents, why isn’t he in diapers?’” I nodded along, remembering Mom telling the story. “What happened then?” “Well, the asshole decided to get a distraction and shoved a little girl over the rail into the tank! I could tell she wasn’t going to be able to swim, and I debated jumping in myself as Stacy pushed her way over the edge and dove in first!” “That must have been terrifying?” Beth asked. Grandma nodded, “Yes, and no… Emotionally, it was, but on a higher mental level, I knew she would probably be okay? Anyway, Stacy was about halfway across the tank, and Suzy, one of the dolphins, leant a fin to the rescue.” “And that girl was Lilly’s mom?” I asked. “Apparently,” she said. “I never got her name in all of the chaos as she was whisked away by her parents pretty quickly, and I was so worried about Stacy and Bella. I knew her parents’ names since I’d gotten a business card, but I guess I didn’t put it together with Lilly until I saw her records.” “So she’s probably an ally for Carly?” Beth asked. “At least for Connor,” Grandma smiled. “Lilly’s grandma never had a chance to fulfill that promise to help her with anything, so I’m guessing when she put two and two together with Connor, Lilly felt like she owed her.” “You think her mom told her about that story?” Beth asked. I nodded, “I bet she did; that’s probably why she learned to swim so well.” “Huh…” Beth said at that. “You two should probably both get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow?” “Can you just give us a half-hour to talk?” I asked her. She sighed, “Thirty minutes, no more!” “Thanks,” I said to her. A moment later, she left, and I turned around to face my taller love. “So…?” She asked. “So, you’re okay with what I said earlier? Really?” I asked. She nodded, “Don’t get me wrong, part of me likes the idea of a boy, but with our size differences, things would have to be a bit different mechanically, no matter what we did.” I blushed, “So you don’t think I’m a freak? You still like me?” She shook her head, “Nope, I don’t like you anymore.” I felt my heart stop, “But…” Even then, she began tickling my sides, “I love you, silly!” I giggled then and was happy to know we were okay. When Beth eventually let up on the tickling, I accepted a kiss from her on the lips that went on for several minutes. “As much as I would love to keep making out tonight, Carly, I think bed is a good idea. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow still.” I nodded, “Okay.” She stood up and hugged me before pulling open the bed sheets and depositing me under them. She pulled the covers up to my chin and kissed me good night, “I love you, Carly, don’t forget that. No matter what you look like.” I watched her leave the room, swiping the lights off as she closed the door. ‘Did I really just come out to her, and she still made out with me?’ I wondered. I pinched my arm, grimaced, and decided I really was awake. ‘What a day!’ BETH MADE HER way across to her room and grimaced at how she looked in the pajamas. There was no question she looked like at least a Pull-Up should be underneath her pajamas! After a quick bathroom trip, she was climbing into bed when Amanda knocked, “May I come in?” “Sure,” she said and let her in. “How is Connor doing?” “Good?” She said hesitantly. “Is she?” Beth looked at her, “What do you mean?” “Her mom already knew and told me, Beth, I’m not surprised. Sorry, but there’s a baby monitor still in the room that activates. I didn’t mean to listen in…” “Don’t let her know you did, please?” Beth begged. “I won’t… You really are okay if Carly wants to be a girl, though?” Beth shrugged, “I like her for her, I don’t really care. It’s not like we’d have an amazing sex life with her as a male?” Beth smirked as she realized Amanda blushed at that. “How did your parents make that work?” She wondered. “I try not to think about it,” Beth laughed. “Laura actually asked Mom once, even as I tried to put my hand over her mouth! She said it all worked because Dad isn’t really a Little, so his parts were larger than normal?” She shook her head, “And that is the only thing I heard, and I still want to bleach my brain from that information. I hate having ever heard about my parent’s sex life!” They both laughed at that. “If it ever gets serious, I will tell you they kept some samples back home for him.” Beth nodded, “She’s leaving in just a few months, though?” Amanda shrugged, “That’s the plan, but who knows what actually happens. With Stacy and your dad, both things seemed to just ‘happen,’ and the same seems to be true for the two of you.” Beth grimaced, “Yeah, they do…” She looked at the bed, “Anyway, I think I’m going to call it a night.” “Can I tuck in my honorary granddaughter for the night?” she smiled. “Isn’t she in the other room?” Beth asked. “She’s the actual one,” she laughed. Amanda did the exact same thing for Beth as she’d done for Carly a few minutes earlier, even kissing her forehead. “Good night, Beth,” she said with a smile as she turned the lights off. ‘What a weird day?’ Beth thought as she turned and looked at the wall to set herself up to sleep. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please Press the 'Like' Button and Leave a comment! (Especially if you want your bonus chapter this weekend! 25+ or no chapter 😈 ) So many of you guessed who Lilly's mom was back in the beginning, and I really have to say to you, "stop breaking into my hard drives!" Looking at my writing notes is forbidden! 👿 Really though I actually take it as a sign that I'm bringing you along on a journey that makes sense and doesn't go off on random unexpected tangents every time! This is a long weekend in the story length, so four more chapters to get some of the other answers you all keep seeking! As always, please remember that if you enjoy my works, you can purchase my completed ones on Amazon Kindle! https://www.amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter 7: Bedwetters Six years ago The concept of bedwetting wasn’t something that had ever crossed my mind as a young kid. I had been dry at night nearly immediately after being toilet trained during the day. There wasn’t a distinction between being potty trained during the day or potty trained during the night. If someone was potty trained, that meant that they never wet their pants at all. Period. That changed when I learned my sister was a bedwetter. In retrospect, the signs of Grace’s bedwetting were practically everywhere. But when I was six years old, the idea of my older sister peeing in her sleep was so completely inconceivable that I would never have entertained it. All the indicators that Grace was a bedwetter went completely over my head. And, looking back at it, there were many. While the washing machine and dryer were inaudible from all the way up in my bedroom, the kitchen was close enough to the basement staircase that the rumbling sounds from either machine could be heard every morning during breakfast. The distant sound of laundry tumbling in the dryer was a consistent part of the background noise in the house as I ate my regular breakfast of cereal. But I didn’t think anything of it as I munched on my Captain Crunch pieces. I was more concerned with making sure I ate them before they got soggy than anything else that was going on around me. Besides, I hadn’t known a time when the dryer wasn’t turned on around the time that I was eating breakfast, so I paid it no more heed than to the sound of Dad watching the morning news in the other room or Mom scurrying about the kitchen, prepping our lunches to take to school. A family of four shouldn’t produce so much laundry that the dryer would need to be run every day. But that wasn’t something I’d have considered at that age. The dryer simply ran nearly every morning, and that was that. If I had paid attention, I would have been tipped off by the times Grace had tip-toed past me while carrying a bundle of freshly cleaned bedding. But even when I did notice, I didn’t think much of it. Laundry was just one of my sister’s chores at the time, and chores were a topic I didn’t want any more familiarity with. Chores were a concept my parents had introduced to me last year, complete with a magnet chart on the fridge for documenting my progress toward earning various rewards. For me, that meant making sure all my toys were put away each evening, making my bed in the morning, and other random age-appropriate tasks around the house. And then there was the question of pajamas. Grace usually showered and changed first thing in the morning, so I didn’t often see her in her pajamas after I had gotten out of bed myself, but there were times when she was wearing a different set of pajamas than what I had seen her in when she had been brushing her teeth in the bathroom the night before. I certainly noticed, but it would never have occurred to me that she would have changed pajamas because she had peed on her first pair of them. I just figured she must have gotten uncomfortable in the middle of the night. Then, there was the fact that my sister never had any sleepovers. My first sleepover actually came before she had a chance to do one. My first sleepover had come a week into the summer after graduating from kindergarten when I’d had Emma sleepover at my house for the first time. It was another few years before Angie’s parents would allow her to join in on our sleepovers. Looking back on it, the fact that Grace hadn’t complained at all about not going on sleepovers when I was allowed to have one was another sign that she had been perfectly comfortable avoiding spending the night with friends, likely out of fear of her bedwetting being discovered. My sister’s room was very much off-limits, especially when my friends were over. I was sure there were plenty of reasons that a twelve-year-old wouldn’t want their six-year-old sister snooping around, but in retrospect, I wondered if I would have found evidence of her bedwetting had I searched then rather than waiting another three years until after Grace had learned to stay dry at night. Grace took the privacy of her bedroom very seriously. The door remained shut at all times, even when she wasn’t in it. She even went so far as to put a “keep out” sign on her door. She had even tried to get Mom and Dad to let her put a lock on her door, but that request had gotten shut down right away. Then there were the reminders to use the toilet before bed. Something that got said a lot more to Grace than to me. There had been times in the evening when Grace had asked for something to drink, only to have Mom or Dad tell her that it was too late for that. Watson might have declared the evidence to be “elementary” at this point, but Sherlock Holmes I was not. My six-year-old brain lacked the necessary deduction skills to put it all together. That was until the proof of my sister’s bedwetting became undeniable. <><><> I groaned as I opened my eyes. It was still dark out. Very dark out. It was such an inopportune time to wake up. I had been rudely pulled out of the most fascinating dream involving panda bears, a field trip to the art museum, and a boy band my sister liked. Why was I even awake now in the first place? I swallowed. My mouth felt dry. It was enough of a nuisance that I wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep until I’d gotten something to drink. A year ago, I would have called out to Mom and Dad until one of them had woken up to get me a glass of water. They were usually reluctant to give me anything more than a couple of sips. That annoyed me, but I understood later why they were so insistent on limiting fluids. They soon got tired of getting me something to drink, and I was informed that I was a big enough girl to get out of bed and get a glass of water all by myself. But this situation was a little different. It would have been one thing if we had been at home. There, I knew the contours of our house well enough to navigate downstairs without needing to turn on any lights. But here, in the guest house we were staying at while visiting my grandparents, I didn’t even know where the light switch was, let alone the doorway. I sat in bed for several minutes while my eyes gradually adjusted to the dark; it was a moonless night on a rural property, so even then, I could only barely make out the outline of where the bedroom door might be. I nearly fell off of the bed when I rolled over onto my side. I had forgotten that it was only half the size of the bed I had back in my bedroom. I took cautious steps in a straight line toward what appeared to be the bedroom door until, at last, I had my hand on the cold doorknob. I expected darkness when I swung open the bedroom door, but there was a hint of light from the end of the hallway, coming from the stairs that led down to the main floor. That was where I needed to go. There weren’t any glasses in the upstairs bathroom. There were two upstairs bedrooms, one for me and one for my parents. My older sister was sleeping downstairs on a pull-out sofa. What was she doing up this late? The door to the bedroom my parents were using was open. I peeked inside it. It was only Dad in there. That explained the downstairs light. Mom must have gotten up with my six-month-old brother to feed him. At least that meant that there was a light on, so it would be easier to find my way to the kitchen. As I approached the top of the staircase, I heard some voices. It was my mom and my sister, interspersed with some soft crying from Jackson. I got the sense that this somehow wasn’t a conversation I was supposed to be listening to, but curiosity got the better of me. I tip-toed quietly down the carpeted stairs and then inched along the hallway until I could see into the room where my sister had been sleeping. I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t in some sort of strange dream. My sister was wearing pajama pants that were paired with one of those extra-long T-shirts she always wore to bed, the kind that could practically double as a dress. It wasn’t the type of pajamas my sister was wearing, but their condition that caught my attention. There was a large wet spot on my sister’s pajamas. My initial thought was that Grace must have accidentally spilled water on herself. But that didn’t track. She seemed rather upset. I looked up at her face and saw that she was crying. No reason to be that upset over a spilled glass of water. Mom, who was holding Jackson, was standing close by. I wasn’t able to make out the expression on her face, but the tone of her voice suggested she wasn’t all that happy with my sister. Then, there was the location of the wet spot on her pajama pants. Yeah, it definitely wasn’t water. “I told you that I had packed it for you, Grace.” Mom said. “Why didn’t you—” “Mom,” Grace interrupted. “I told you already. I just forgot about it. Anyway, I’m not a baby.” “I’m not saying you are,” Mom said. “Which means you need to be more responsible.” Mom looked down at where Grace had been sleeping. I couldn’t see from here, but I guessed that the accident had gotten all over the bedding and perhaps the couch as well. “Just go hop in the shower,” Mom said. “I’ll try to figure out how to get this cleaned up. There have to be some cleaning supplies somewhere.” That was my cue to skedaddle. But with Grace now headed in my direction, I belatedly realized that there wasn’t any way to get up the stairs without her noticing me. Instead, I back away into an adjacent room, hoping to keep out of sight of my sister and my mom. Once Grace was heading up the stairs, I peeked out again and got a good look at her pajamas. There could be no disputing it. My sister had peed herself. I really didn’t know how to react to this revelation. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen a kid wet their pants before. That had happened to other students on three occasions during my kindergarten year. But that was different; those kids had either been too scared of the school restrooms or too scared of their teacher to ask for permission to go potty. This was my sister. She was about to be a teenager. And she had peed herself despite the fact that there was a perfectly good and accessible toilet only a few feet away from her. How? Why? It made no sense. It was just confusing, and I wasn’t quite convinced that I wasn’t still dreaming up this wacky scene. “Madelyn.” Mom’s voice was hushed, but I could sense her irritation through the use of my full first name. It turned out that my hiding spot wasn’t quite as hidden as I thought it had been. “What are you doing up?” “Um, I woke up. I was thirsty and wanted something to drink.” There was simply no way I could hold the question inside. “Did Grace pee her pants?” Mom glanced toward the staircase before answering me. “For some kids, like your sister, their bladder sometimes forgets that it is supposed to hold their pee in while they are asleep. It’s not your sister’s fault she had a bedwetting accident. Some kids, like you, grow out of it right when they are potty trained. It takes a lot longer for other kids.” That was a lot to take in all at once. Bedwetting. That was a new word for me. Perhaps it helped to define what was happening to my sister as something separate from toilet training. “Hey,” Dad said. He was not using his nighttime voice. “Heard that there was someone in the shower and then saw that no one was in bed.” “Grace had a bedwetting accident,” Mom said. Dad turned to look at me and then back at Mom. Mom sighed, adjusting her grip on Jackson, who was beginning to squirm. “Maddy already knows now. She found out because she was getting something to drink.” Dad completely brushed off the news about the bedwetting as if it was something that was completely normal and expected. “Do we think that getting something to drink is a good idea?” He asked. “But I’m thirsty,” I complained. My mouth was still very dry. “Drinking lots of water at night can sometimes lead to bedwetting accidents for kids,” Dad said. “But I don’t ever wet the bed when I drink water at night.” “Maddy does have a point,” Mom said. “Fine,” Dad responded. “But if she ruins a mattress, you can explain it to your parents.” “Go on,” Mom said to me. I went off to the kitchen but only took the tiniest sip of water. Despite my protestations that I had never wet the bed before, I was now suddenly very concerned that it could happen if I were to drink too much. I set the glass down without finishing it off and began to walk toward the stairs. “Hold up,” Dad said. “There’s something we need to talk about first.” I paused at the foot of the stairs. “While it is normal for some kids to have bedwetting issues, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t embarrassing or that other people who aren’t nice might tease your sister about it. You are not to tell anyone else that your sister wets the bed. That’s a private issue, not to be shared with anyone other than our family. Secondly, you aren’t to mention this at all to your sister. Not to tease her. Not because you’re curious. Not at all.” I understood from the way Dad’s tone had changed that this was a very serious request. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” The shower was still running when I slipped past the upstairs bathroom on my way back to bed. <><><> Present time I had figured that wetting the bed a second time would be a lot easier. I was wrong. Like last night, I was waiting anxiously for the clock to strike midnight. Unlike last night, the urge to pee was present, but not nearly as overwhelming. While I still had drunk more liquids than normal over the course of the afternoon and evening, I hadn’t been as thorough in my hydration as yesterday. It didn’t help that Mom had caught me drinking water in the kitchen. I had planned to drink some water from the bathroom sink, but all it took was one sip of unfiltered water to deter me from doing that. I wanted pull-ups, but not that badly. Her concern over what I was drinking in the evening could turn out to be a problem, especially as the bedwetting would be turning into a pattern rather than a random one-off occurrence. Perhaps I would be able to get comfortable enough with peeing myself so that I wouldn’t need to drink excessive amounts of water to do so. I’d been lying in bed for about an hour and a half now. The first twenty minutes of that had been spent listening to Chester paw at my door. The cat’s efforts at opening the door had thankfully proven to be unsuccessful. He’d probably gone back downstairs to bother my parents. That was followed by the sound of my sister leaving her room momentarily to brush her teeth. I’d picked one of my least favorite pajama outfits for the night. It was a hand-me-down shirt from my sister. This one had a bit of special significance. It was the same T-shirt she had worn that night when I found out about her bedwetting. That was paired with some pink pajama pants with hearts on them. I wouldn’t mind if either the shirt or pants got ruined because of the bedwetting. I had kept the promise I had made to my parents six years ago. My lips had stayed completely shut. As far as I knew, Grace had no idea that I had ever known about her bedwetting. I hadn’t even brought up the subject again with our parents. If I could make it through the next week or so without Grace catching on, I’d be able to keep this bedwetting secret from her as long as my parents purchased pull-ups for me. I thought back to all the signs that had been present when Grace had been a bedwetter. I knew what I needed to avoid if I were to keep my own secret safe. That night at my Grandparents’ house had been the only time where I had stumbled across evidence of my sister’s bedwetting. That raised a lot of questions. Was her bedwetting something that was super frequent at that point, or had she, at the same age I was now, already been outgrowing her bedwetting phase? But there were other questions that remained unanswered. The fact that there had been laundry washed every morning suggested that Grace either hadn’t been wearing pull-ups to bed or that they had been totally ineffective in keeping her sheets dry. Did my parents even realize that pull-ups were an option for my older sister? Or had they – or she – decided that pull-ups weren’t how they were going to manage her bedwetting? But what about that time at my grandparents’ place? Yes, Grace had wet the bed on the first night, but as far as I knew, there hadn’t been a repeat during that week-long stay. Was it possible that she had worn a pull-up the rest of the nights there? A lot of those questions could have been answered if I had ever managed to work up the courage to ask my older sister, but a promise was a promise, so I followed my parent’s rules even after they had let me know that Grace’s bedwetting phase had ended – a move they made one vacation when they had Grace and I share a bed for the first time. I had been greatly reassured, knowing that my sister wasn’t going to pee all over me in her sleep. The telltale signs of Mom and Dad heading to bed had passed twenty minutes ago. It was likely that they were both already asleep by now. Dad’s snoring wasn’t quite as loud as last night, but I could still make it out occasionally. But all the certainty leading up to this moment was again beginning to fall away. Until last night, the idea of pretending to wet the bed had been a fantasy. It had been a fun thing to think about as I went through how different scenarios might play out in my head, all of them ending with Mom bringing me aside for a private conversation where she would reveal that she had purchased pull-ups for me to wear to bed. It had been a constant daydream over the past year as I slowly worked up the courage to finally act on my desires. But now I knew what the reality of bedwetting was like. And it wasn’t quite like how things had gone in my daydreams. Bedwetting sucked when doing it while not wearing pull-ups. It was one thing to have to inform my parents of the accident; there was no getting around that if I were to convince them that pull-ups were needed, but it was something else to have the evidence of my wet pajamas and bed displayed right in front of them. I could picture the expression on Mom’s face from last night, and I dreaded having to see it again. I nearly faltered. I nearly got up and walked to the bathroom. I nearly convinced myself that I could call it quits. But there was one thing that was stopping me. The one reassurance was that I could always stop. If faking the bedwetting got to be too difficult or too embarrassing, if I somehow found that the pull-ups didn’t live up to my expectations, all I would have to do was stop wetting the bed. I could end it as easily as it was beginning. But the one thing I couldn’t do was go through my plan only halfway. I needed to either be fully committed to it or not do it at all. The bedwetting had to be consistent and frequent if I was going to get my parents to buy me those pull-ups. I kept trying – and failing – to get my bladder to release while I was lying down in bed. I wanted the accident to look as natural as possible, but no matter how I positioned myself – lying on my side, front, or back – I was not able to get myself to pee. But there was something other than just making sure my deceit wouldn’t be found out by my parents. I wanted to know what it felt like to have an actual bedwetting accident, not just squat over my sheets and pee. But another five minutes passed by without any results. I yawned. I had two options. Figure out a way to pee or go to sleep. I got up on my knees the way I had done the night before. I turned my mind to thoughts of things that were wet. A minute later, there was a wetness and warmth in my underwear, followed by the sound of urine streaming onto the bed, proof that the method I had discovered last night had worked again. Like last night, once I had started peeing, I found it impossible to stop once everything was out. And also, like last night, the feeling of the wet clothes against my skin was barely tolerable. I picked up my phone and turned the flashlight app on. The wet spot wasn’t as big as last night, but it would more than do. It was time to get the hard part over with. So there I was, still in my soaked underwear and pants and my slightly wet shirt, staring right at my parents’ bedroom door. I’d turned off the flashlight app on my phone once I’d gotten out to the hallway. I didn’t need to make my accident any more obvious than it was already. I tried to knock. I really did. I must have raised my hand up a half-dozen times, but each time, I held my fist aloft in the air for a few seconds before letting my arm drop back down. I thought about how Mom had reacted last night. She hadn’t been upset at me, but I could tell that having to get out of bed that late had been a nuisance, especially with how she had needed to get the laundry started and clean up the mattress. Even if I had experienced a real bedwetting accident, I would have felt bad about having to make Mom clean up after me like that. If I had made a mess in the house any other time during the day, I’d be expected to clean it up on my own without any assistance. Why should this be any different? Besides, all my parents needed to know was that I had an accident. Maybe there wasn’t a need to wake them. All the bedding in the washing machine would be proof enough of that in the morning. That was a much better idea. I would change out of my wet pajamas and then take all of my wet clothing and bedding down to the basement. I could at least get a washing cycle started, and then it all could be moved to the dryer in the morning. I wouldn’t need to hide the bedwetting from my parents, but it would be much less humiliating to tell them in the morning, or perhaps they would figure it out on their own by the fact that I was doing laundry, which would make a difficult conversation a little easier. That meant I was going to have to figure out how to clean the bed. I guessed that if I were to check the closet, I would be able to recognize the cleaning solutions Mom had used last night. In less than twenty minutes or so, I’d have everything all cleaned up, and I could be tucked into a sleeping bag on the floor. I’d made my decision. Waiting until the morning for my parents to find out about this latest bedwetting accident would make things a lot easier. I was right about to head back to my room when Grace’s bedroom door swung wide open, and she stepped out into the hallway. I could have sworn that she was asleep already. I hadn’t noticed any light coming from under her door, and I had heard her brushing her teeth in the bathroom shortly after I had gone to bed myself. I stood frozen in place. There was no escape. The light from her bedroom illuminated the hallway, reaching out all the way to where I was standing. My hands slid down in front of my waist, but even had they been able to completely obscure the wet spot before Grace had a chance to see it, just the motion of hiding that part of my body would have been enough to arouse her suspicions. We locked eyes. She appeared just as surprised to see me as I was to see her. Neither of us said anything. Grace’s expression changed from the casual surprise of seeing me to concern over what must be the obvious embarrassment showing on my face. I watched in horror as my sister’s eyes drifted down to my waist, her pupils expanding as she took in the sight of my hands held in front of my wet pajamas. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

Five women become the playthings of a man calling himself the Magician. Using his powers, he forces them to go through a series of humiliatingly childish challenges, with infantilizing and permanent consequences for the losers. Inspired by the sadly discontinued season one of The Humble Games by Parker Longabaugh. *** Chapter 1 One moment Abigail was sitting at a bar, sending seductive looks over at the handsome man sitting across from her (and receiving looks of hatred in return from the woman sat next to him), and the next moment she was sitting on a hard-backed wooden chair in a large, brightly lit, luxuriously furnished hall. She blinked. What the hell was going on? Looking around, she saw that four other disoriented women were sitting in chairs in a row beside hers, and in front of them stood a man. He was tall, dark haired, and strangely ageless. He could have been thirty or fifty - it was impossible to tell. He wore a well-tailored black suit and the hint of a smirk on his handsome face. “Hello ladies,” he said. His voice was deep, and Abby felt a pleasant tingling in her pussy. If she wasn’t more alarmed about her sudden transportation to this unfamiliar place, he was definitely the sort of man she’d be trying to pry away from his wife and take home with her. “Thank you all for coming.” A woman a couple of places away from Abby was the first to recover. Her short dark hair and mannish suit gave her a somewhat androgynous look. “What’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was severe and authoritative. “Where are we?” “You’re in my home,” the man responded politely. “Who are you? How did-” “Why don’t I do introductions?” he interrupted mildly, and without waiting for an answer he gestured towards a girl on the end of the row with straw-coloured hair, a black crop-top that showed off her slim, well-toned stomach, and a pair of skinny jeans. “This is little miss Susie Taylor, a third-year know-it-all university student who worked hard to earn a scholarship just so she could get away from her controlling mother.” The girl called Susie went red. Know-it-all?! But more alarmingly, how did he know that about her? Was he some sort of stalker? Had he drugged her at university and abducted her to his mansion? The man moved on to the next woman, a beautiful lady with long, white-blonde hair and very large breasts that were shown off classily by her elegant dress. There was something a little snobbish about the disdainful way she glanced at the other girls. “And this is miss Katherine Bower-Thomas, a fashion model from a rather well-to-do family who’s widely considered to be one of the most difficult people to work with in the whole industry, on account of her self-entitlement and overall bitchiness.” Katherine blushed as well. How dare he! She would normally have given this man a piece of her mind, if she weren’t still so wrong-footed by what had just happened. One moment she'd been strutting down the catwalk at her latest fashion show, and the next... “And here we have miss Madelyn Smith,” the man went on. He was indicating the dark haired, severe woman who had spoken earlier. “A lecturer in feminist theory who detests vapid bimbos more than anything, and who loves nothing more than to inflict the people around her with long rants about the evils of the patriarchy.” Madelyn scowled furiously, but restrained herself for the moment. She didn’t understand what was going on here. She could have sworn she’d just been about to give a lecture on early feminist literature. Had she been hypnotised? Was this some kind of reality TV show? If so she was going to sue the producers into oblivion! “And this little cutie is miss Becky Lewis.” The man pointed at the girl sitting next to Abby. She seemed to be the youngest there, pretty, and dressed in a plain white top and a skirt, her chestnut-brown hair tied up in a ponytail. “She’s fresh out of school and working part-time at her local daycare, where she has a reputation for being especially nasty to the poor little boys and girls. She just can’t stand changing nappies!” The man laughed at that, as if he knew some secret joke that they didn’t. Becky squirmed nervously in her seat. It wasn’t her fault those stupid little brats were so disgusting! She’d been enjoying a day off from cleaning up after those annoying little rugrats before she’d suddenly found herself here. “And finally we come to miss Abigail Reid, a very naughty girl who lives off her boyfriend’s money even while she repeatedly cheats on him behind his back. Definitely someone who deserves to be taken down a peg or two.” Abby flushed, and found her voice. “How do you know – I mean, what makes you think I need to be ‘taken down a peg or two’?” she demanded. “Well sweetie, I’m very good with wishes, you see,” he said, smiling at her. His dark eyes glinted unsettlingly, as if there was light behind them. “And dozens of people have wished for you to be put in your place.” He looked around at the others with a smile. “The same goes for all of you.” “You still haven’t told us who you are!” Katherine complained, lifting her head haughtily. “Or how we got here!” “You can call me the Magician, sweetheart. And I brought you here by magic. Isn’t that obvious?” “Excuse me,” Madelyn said sneeringly. “But that’s not really an explanation, is it? I don’t care who you are, but you are going to be in serious trouble. I hope you’re looking forward to going to prison, because you’ve brought us here without our consent and-” “Hush now, sweetie,” the Magician interrupted. “A man is talking. Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing with that pretty little mouth of yours?” For a moment, Madelyn couldn’t believe her ears. Then she leapt out of her chair and launched into a furious tirade. “How dare you! Women are not your property, you chauvinist! This is so typical of a man.” She turned to the others. “This is exactly the kind of male attitude I spend my life fighting against. Men always think that what they have to say is more important than anything we might have to offer. It’s patriarchal social conswucts wike dese dat pwesent women as overgwown childwen!” The other girls stared at her in shock. Madelyn blushed bright red. What was wrong with her voice?! Then she realised that her thumb was planted firmly between her lips, garbling her speech. She was sucking on it rhythmically, making loud wet smacking sounds, looking for all the world like an overgrown four-year-old. She tried to pull it out, but something stopped her – it was as if her thumb was being drawn magnetically into her mouth! Her eyes wide with fear, she whined and looked desperately at the others for help. “That’s better,” said the Magician. “Daddy doesn’t need to listen to silly little girls who think they know best. I hope you enjoy your new thumbsucking habit, Maddy, because it’s not going away any time soon. Sucking on things is a much better use for a woman’s mouth than all your silly bitching.” Madelyn looked frightened, and started sucking her thumb even more frantically, but Susie just rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said exasperatedly, getting up as well. “This is all just some kind of trick!” She looked disparagingly at Katherine, Becky, and Abby, all three of whom were looking scared. “You don’t actually believe in magic do you? He’s just some stupid stage magician or something, and she’s obviously with him.” She gestured at Madelyn, who frantically shook her head from side to side, looking furious. The Magician’s smile widened. The other girls stared at Susie, but they weren’t paying much attention to her words. As she spoke, her outfit was beginning to change. Her black crop-top turned pastel pink and began to lengthen, its sleeves becoming puffy and frilly. Two pink ribbons appeared out of thin air and began tying her straw-blonde hair into pigtails. “I spent my whole childhood living under some petty tyrant,” Susie went on obliviously, “and I can promise you that they don’t have any real power.” Her jeans melted away, rising up her legs and transforming into a tiny pink skirt that wasn’t even long enough to hide the white cotton, baby-duck patterned underwear that had just replaced her panties. Her socks became ruffled, and her trainers turned into black Mary Janes. “I don’t know how he got us here, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to stop us just walking out, so why don’t we…” Susie broke off. “What are you all looking at?!” she demanded angrily. Then she caught sight of herself in the large mirror that dominated one of the walls, and she let out a girlish shriek. She stared at her new outfit in disbelief. Not two minutes ago she’d been dressed like a stylish college student, and now she looked ready to head off to kindergarten. “H-how did you…?” Susie looked at the Magician, her face now full of fear. “Much better!” he announced happily. “Those silly grown-up clothes were doing you no good at all, Susie. This is a much more appropriate look for you. Now, does anyone else want to interrupt me, or can I continue with my explanation?” There was silence from the women, apart from the sound of Madelyn sucking noisily on her thumb. Susie was frozen, terrified the Magician would do something else to her. She didn’t want to end up as a thumbsucker too. “Good. Now, as I was saying, you naughty girls are well overdue some corrective punishment. So I thought we’d have a little competition. A fun little game. The five of you will go through a series of challenges, with penalties for the unfortunate losers, voting periodically to eliminate one of your number until only one of you is left. Those who get voted out will receive a special punishment, in addition to any… alterations that I make to them over the course of the game. But the winner will get something very special. Three wishes. Anything they want. Anything at all.” Abby shivered at the thought of these ‘special punishments’, but her eyes lit up at the thought of three wishes. Anything she wanted? Anything at all? If she could win… “We’ll start the first challenge very soon, but first we need to get some num-nums in those cute little tummies of yours. Follow me, girls. Lunchtime.” He led them out of the hall and into a large sunlight dining room, and none of them could think of anything else to do but follow. Blushing bright red, Susie tried to tug her tiny skirt down to stop herself flashing her new childish underwear with every step. Madelyn tried desperately to remove her thumb from her mouth, but it was hopeless. The harder she tried to take it out, the more urgently she sucked. A line of drool ran down her chin. She wanted to wipe it away, but for some reason she couldn’t, as though the simple knowledge of how to wipe her face clean had been blocked from her mind. She knew she looked monumentally stupid, a grown woman in a stylish suit sucking her thumb and dribbling down her chin like a giant toddler, but she just couldn’t stop herself! The women stopped dead when they saw the chairs that were seated around the dinner table. They were highchairs. But even worse was what was placed on the table in front of each of them – a baby bottle full of milk, and a large bowl of mushy baby food. “You must be joking,” said Katherine, wrinkling her nose. “Not at all, sweetheart,” said the Magician. He waved his hand, and bright pastel-coloured bibs appeared around each of their necks. Katherine cringed at the sight of the canary-yellow bib that now adorned her front. She couldn’t stand anything that messed with her elegant, classy wardrobe. The other girls looked down distastefully at the bibs on their own chests as well. “In fact,” the Magician continued, smirking once again, “I think you’re all going to enjoy your lunchies very much.” Abby suddenly realised she was hungry. Very hungry, in fact. She stared at the bowls of baby food, and the bottles of creamy milk, and her stomach rumbled. Hers wasn’t the only one. “Hungry babies!” the Magician laughed. “Are you all keen to get some yummies in your tummies?” The five of them rushed forwards and clambered into their highchairs. They were tight and uncomfortable, but none of them cared. They were all too eager to eat. Abby picked up the tiny plastic spoon next to her bowl and started shovelling baby food into her mouth, not even caring that she was getting most of it smeared around her lips. Madelyn was finally able to pull her thumb out of her mouth with a wet pop, only to shove the nipple of her baby bottle into it instead and start guzzling down the warm milk inside. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. Katherine crammed her spoon into her mouth messily. She knew the Magician was doing something to them, knew that she’d never normally do something like this, but it didn’t matter. Baby food soon spattered her bib and covered her chin. It was an insult to her refined upbringing, but she just couldn’t control herself! It was so tasty! The Magician chuckled as he watched the five women desperately shovel down baby food and drink up their baby formula. In no time at all, they were finished, sat in their highchairs with their stomachs full to bursting and their faces and bibs covered in baby food. “Such messy girls!” he announced, making them all blush. A wet cloth appeared in his hand, and he went around one by one, wiping the girls’ mouths clean. A particularly malicious smirk appeared on his face when he reached Madelyn, and saw the drool that was also wetting her chin. “Such a dribbly baby!” he cooed. Madelyn glared at him, but the intimidating effect was ruined slightly by the mucky bib she wore, and the fact that the Magician was wiping her chin for her like some stupid toddler who couldn’t do it herself. Her thumb immediately slipped back into her mouth. “Alright, girls,” he said once he was done and they were all getting out of their highchairs. “Back to the hall. Follow me.” They trailed back into the brightly lit hall, groaning a little at how full they were. Becky couldn’t believe she’d just eaten the kind of meal those stupid brats at her daycare ate every day. It had tasted so good in the moment, but now she felt disgusted with herself. Even if it was magic, how had she let herself be reduced to their level?! “Now, we’re almost ready to start the challenge…” the Magician said to himself once they were all back in the room they’d first appeared in. “What have I forgotten…? Ah yes!” He snapped his fingers. Abby felt a sudden coolness around her legs, and a strange thickness between her thighs, as if her underwear had suddenly expanded. She looked down and squealed in horror. The other girls did the same. Anything they’d been wearing below the waist had vanished, to be replaced by bulky, white, disposable diapers. Susie had kept her childish new clothes, but now instead of her baby-duck patterned undies, it was a thick, crinkly nappy poking out from beneath her miniskirt. “W-what have you done?!” Katherine shrieked. Her dress had vanished entirely, leaving her in just her a nappy and a bra. “We can’t have anything covering up your diaper, sweetie. I need to be able to see if you’ve lost the challenge and need changing. You can have your dress back later, little miss. If you're good." Madelyn cringed as she looked down at herself. She looked especially ridiculous with a suit jacket on the top and a bulky nappy on the bottom, a mockery of the strong, independent woman she was. “Now we can get started,” the Magician said. “You see, that yummy baby food you all just ate has a very special property. Aside from making your tummies nice and full, it has also, for the next half an hour or so only, reduced your toilet training to the level it was at when you were three years old.” All five women went pale. “So,” the Magician went on cheerfully, “we’re going to have a little game to see how well you were all potty trained. Don’t worry, I don’t expect any of you to be able to stay dry very long. The challenge will end when someone makes a stinky in her pants, at which point everyone else will be allowed to use…” He waved his hand, and a row of pink, plastic training potties replaced the chairs they’d been sitting on earlier. “These.” All five girls fidgeted nervously, their thick diapers crinkling between their thighs. “And what happens to the person who loses?” Becky asked fearfully. The Magician grinned. “The first person to fill her nappy will become incontinent. Permanently."

Chapter 12: Au revoir les enfants Adrian leaned close, his blue eyes piercing with a rare intensity. "We need to play the part," he whispered, as if the walls themselves might betray us. My gut churned. "You mean act like we're actually buying into Evelyn's... daycare regime?" "Exactly," Adrian nodded, his voice a low hum of conviction. "We behave, play the perfect littles she expects us to be. That way, she lets her guard down." The idea clawed at me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. The notion of surrendering even a shred of my pride to that woman's twisted game felt like swallowing nails. Yet, the spark of rebellion within me flickered at the thought of outsmarting her. "But that means..." I hesitated, the words sticking like tar. "We'd have to embrace every humiliation." Adrian's gaze didn't waver. "It's all a facade, Bixente. A strategic deception. We give her what she wants to see on the surface, but underneath, we're biding our time, waiting for our moment." I mulled over his words, my mind racing with images of submission—of pacifiers and footed pajamas—each one a dagger to my autonomy. But then there was the flip side: freedom and access to the materials we needed. "We keep up this act until we pull off the heist?" I asked, searching Adrian's face for any sign of doubt. He answered with the ghost of a smirk. "Precisely. Once we have what we need, it's game over for her." It was madness, a high-stakes gamble with our dignity as the wager. Yet, it was also genius—a chance to turn the tables on Evelyn Harrow and reclaim control over our lives. I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of our charade settling onto my shoulders like armor. "Alright," I said at last, meeting Adrian's unwavering gaze. "We'll do it your way." Adrian clapped me on the back—a gesture both encouraging and conspiratorial. "Trust me," he said with a confidence that almost made me believe him. "We'll have them wrapped around our fingers." And so we shook on it—a pact sealed not with handshakes but with a shared resolve to beat Evelyn Harrow at her own twisted game. Adrian slipped into the lecture hall, a slight swagger in his step, a bag slung over his shoulder. He navigated through the maze of seats until he found me, slouched over my notes. With a quick glance around to ensure we weren't drawing attention, he leaned in close and offered a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from the bag. I eyed the items warily, memories of past humiliations creeping up like shadows. "Do we really need to go this far?" I muttered, the words laced with doubt. Adrian's blue eyes locked onto mine, and he nodded solemnly. "It's part of the plan, Bix. We've got to sell it." The idea of willingly walking into the lion's den sent shivers down my spine. I took the bottle and unwrapped the chocolate, its sweet scent a stark contrast to the bitterness welling inside me. "But this..." I started, only to be cut off by Adrian's firm tone. "Listen," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an almost brotherly fashion. "We do this now, we control the narrative. It's all about appearances. If Evelyn believes we're broken, she'll relax her watchful eyes." I grimaced at the thought but couldn't deny the logic in his words. The water felt cool in my hand, an innocent disguise for the treachery it contained. With a sigh that felt like surrender, I twisted open the cap and took a long gulp, chasing it with a bite of chocolate that suddenly tasted like defeat. Adrian watched me with an unreadable expression before partaking himself. "It won't be long now," he murmured after finishing his share. I nodded silently, the reality of our pact settling heavily upon me. We had committed to this path, and there was no turning back. As the laxative and diuretics began their work within us, I realized that we were not just deceiving Evelyn; we were testing our own limits in ways I never imagined possible. With each sip and nibble, Adrian and I braced ourselves for what was to come—a performance that demanded every ounce of our willpower. The cafeteria buzzed with the noise of chatter and clinking cutlery, a symphony of normalcy that felt alien to me. Adrian and I navigated through the sea of tables, painfully aware of the state we were in. The fabric of our pants clung awkwardly, revealing the sodden bulge beneath. Whispers trailed us like shadows, some loud enough to cut through the din. "Looks like the kiddos had a little accident," a voice jeered from somewhere behind us. I kept my head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, but the comments clawed at my pride. "Did baby need his diaper changed?" another snickered, followed by laughter that seemed to echo off the walls. My cheeks burned, but it was Adrian's tight jaw and clenched fists that reminded me we were both on the brink. The cafeteria might as well have been a coliseum, and we were unwilling gladiators at its center. It was then that Evelyn's voice sliced through the commotion. "Oh, mes petits chéris," she cooed with an affected sweetness that soured my stomach. "Come over here to mommy." The word 'mommy' reverberated around us, and I felt my dignity crumble further. I exchanged a glance with Adrian; we knew playing along was our only way out of this public spectacle. We approached her table where she sat flanked by her friends, who watched us with thinly veiled amusement. Evelyn's eyes were all mock concern as she addressed us like we were no more than three years old. "Tell mommy what happened to your diapees," she instructed, gesturing for us to speak up. I took a breath that did little to steady me. "My diaper is... messy," I admitted through gritted teeth, feeling every ounce of my seventeen years bearing down on me. "And wet," Adrian added, his voice laced with bitterness. Evelyn clapped her hands together as if we'd just performed a trick for her enjoyment. "Oh dear! We can't have that now, can we? Let's go get you both cleaned up." Her tone was saccharine as she stood up from her seat. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across our room. I lingered near the edge of the room, watching Evelyn with careful eyes as she moved with an air of authority among my peers. The night had been long, my mind turning over Adrian's plan and what I needed to do. Taking a deep breath, I mustered all the youthful innocence I could into my expression and approached her. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a reminder of the act I was about to perform. "Um, Miss Evelyn?" My voice wavered, a touch higher than usual as if nervousness had taken hold. She turned towards me, her gaze sharp yet expectant. "Yes, Bixente? What is it you need?" I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, a calculated gesture. "I was thinking... maybe it would be really good for my studies if I could go to the fablab. I want to do better in class." The words came out in a hopeful stammer, painting the picture of a Little seeking approval. Evelyn's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh? And why do you think that would help you?" Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it—a predator playing with its prey. I swallowed hard, feeling like I was walking on a tightrope. "Well," I continued, feigning a childlike earnestness, "I could practice more with the machines and maybe build something really cool! It might even impress Professor Madsen!" She considered this for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if amused by my request. "You want to impress your professor?" she asked, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension. My cheeks flushed on cue. "Yes, Miss Evelyn," I answered, keeping my gaze lowered in a display of submission. "I just want to be good at something here." Evelyn reached out and patted my head patronizingly. "Well then," she said with a soft chuckle, "I suppose it can't hurt to let you try. You may go to the fablab." Her words were laced with satisfaction at what she perceived as my growing reliance on her guidance. My heart leaped at her acquiescence but I kept my expression neutral. "Thank you so much!" The relief in my voice sounded genuine even to my own ears. "And Adrian," she added thoughtfully, as if considering how far she could extend her control over us, "he may access the library too." I nodded eagerly. "Thank you! We'll be super careful and study lots!" Evelyn watched me for a moment longer before dismissing me with a wave of her hand. Evelyn sat in her elegantly furnished office, her icy gaze fixed on the intricate device she was manipulating. In the dim light, she dialed a number on her sleek communicator. The holographic screen flickered to life, revealing Aiden Ricoh's smirking face. "Aiden," she began, her voice laced with a chilling calmness that belied the urgency of her message. The corners of Aiden's mouth curled up in an amused smile as he leaned back in his chair. "Evelyn," he responded, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity. "I need you to start the preparations," she instructed, not wasting any time on pleasantries. Aiden raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Already?" he asked. He knew better than to question Evelyn's judgement, but the suddenness of the request caught him off guard. "Yes," Evelyn replied firmly. "Our littles might be in action within a few days." Aiden's eyes widened slightly at this revelation. He'd been aware of Evelyn's plans, but he hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly. However, he trusted Evelyn's instincts implicitly. If she said it was time to act, then it was time to act. "I understand," Aiden responded after a moment of silence, his playful demeanor replaced by one of determination. "I'll get everything ready." "Good," Evelyn replied curtly before disconnecting the call. * * * The fablab is like something out of a sci-fi movie, with molecular 3D printers and AI augmented discovery benches all around. The sheer magnitude of the technology at my fingertips is overwhelming, but in the best possible way. I feel like a kid in a candy store, eager to explore and create with all these amazing tools. As I step into the lab, my eyes widen with excitement. The sleek, advanced machinery hums softly in the background, adding to the futuristic atmosphere. I can't help but feel a surge of inspiration as I imagine the endless possibilities that await me in this incredible space. The 3D printers stand like sentinels, ready to bring my wildest ideas to life with just a few commands. The AI benches promise a wealth of knowledge and support, enhancing my capabilities as an aspiring engineer. It's like stepping into a whole new world, one where innovation knows no bounds. I take a moment to soak it all in, feeling grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow in this extraordinary environment. With each machine and piece of equipment, I see potential waiting to be unlocked, and I'm eager to dive headfirst into this technological wonderland. I settled at a bench designed for someone of my stature, the surface smooth and inviting. The bench's size made me feel less out of place, a welcome respite from the towering world around me. The specialized AI interface blinked to life as I approached, its screen casting a cool glow in the dimly lit space. "Bonjour," I greeted the AI, still a bit awkward talking to a machine like it was a person. "Good day, Bixente. How may I assist you today?" The AI's voice was neutral, almost soothing in its precision. "I need to design a sonic screwdriver!," I began, rolling out the schematic Mateo had given me across the desk. "It's got to be discreet, multifunctional, and most importantly, undetectable by standard security measures." The AI hummed as if processing my words. "Understood. Please input the primary specifications you require for the sonic screwdriver." I leaned in closer to the screen, tapping into my inner engineer as I rattled off a series of technical requirements. "It should incorporate a quantum-tunneling chip for bypassing electronic locks. And let's not forget an adaptive algorithm to learn and mimic access codes." "Quantum-tunneling can be achieved using nanofabricated circuits," the AI chimed in. "However, incorporating an adaptive algorithm requires additional processing power which may increase the device's size." I nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, then let's use a crystal lattice structure for the chip—it'll keep it compact. And for power, how about micro-kinetic cells? They can harness ambient energy, so we won't need conventional batteries." "A feasible approach," the AI confirmed. "Micro-kinetic cells will also reduce maintenance requirements and improve longevity." We went back and forth like this for a while—me throwing out ideas and technobabble like it was second nature, and the AI providing immediate feedback on feasibility and design integration. Finally, with the design fleshed out to my satisfaction and approved by my electronic counterpart, I leaned back with a sigh of contentment. "All right, let's produce six units of this bad boy." "Commencing production now," responded the AI as its internal mechanisms whirred into action. I watched with bated breath as molecular 3D printers began constructing the devices layer by layer from exotic materials that were once beyond my wildest dreams. This was more than just tech; it was hope—hope that Adrian, Mateo, and I could level the playing field at Emerson University. I watch in awe as the first unit materializes before my eyes. It's like witnessing magic as the intricate components take shape and form, coming together to create the universal unlocker. I can't help but feel a sense of pride as each unit is produced, knowing that I've played a part in bringing this innovative creation to life. As the last unit is completed, I can't contain my excitement. "We did it!" I exclaim triumphantly. The AI interface responds with a congratulatory message, acknowledging our successful collaboration in producing the devices. I carefully gather the units, feeling a renewed sense of determination and confidence in my abilities as an engineer. I slid another schematic across the bench, my earlier success bolstering my confidence. This one was a pet project, something I'd been toying with back home. The AI scanned the paper with a low hum, the interface flickering with data streams that analyzed every line and curve I had drawn. It was an odd feeling, handing over something so personal to a machine, but in this place, the machine felt almost like a collaborator, an extension of my own creative process. "Analyzing schematic," the AI announced in its measured tone. "Please stand by." As I waited for the AI to complete its performance, I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. I thought about Adrian and Mateo, about our shared resolve to defy expectations and claim our place in this world. The schematics might have been mine, but the rebellion? That belonged to all of us. This was more than just an assignment or a school project. This was our statement of intent—a declaration that we would not be underestimated or overlooked. That we were more than what they saw when they looked down at us from their lofty heights. As I waited for the AI's performance to conclude, I felt an ember of rebellion flicker into flame within me. We were playing a dangerous game, but it was one we intended to win. And with each passing second in this fablab haven, that win felt less like a distant dream and more like an inevitable triumph waiting just beyond the horizon. “Printing…” announced the AI. *** In the silence of her office, Dean Norris sat contemplatively, the walls lined with diplomas and accolades that spoke of her authoritative presence in Emerson University. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated her features, etching shadows that played across her stoic face. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the documents strewn before her when the phone buzzed. "Dean Norris," she answered crisply. "Dean, it's Argos. I've completed my analysis." Her fingers stilled. Argos only contacted her directly when matters were grave. She leaned forward, her attention honed on the AI's synthesized voice emanating from the speaker. "Go on," she prompted. "There's a pattern," Argos began. "Evelyn Harrow and her Nest have been increasingly active. My algorithms detect irregularities in their schedules, secretive communications, and an unusual influx of resources. All indicators suggest an impending event – likely an auction involving Littles." A chill settled in the room despite the ambient warmth. Dean Norris processed the information with a frown knitting her brow. An auction meant that vulnerable students could be traded like commodities in some shadowy corner of a universe that prided itself on advanced morality. "What's your recommendation?" she asked, already formulating strategies. "I advise caution," Argos said after a calculated pause. "Intervention now could spook them and drive the operation underground. It's better to monitor and gather incontrovertible evidence." Dean Norris nodded to herself, though Argos couldn't see. It was a prudent course of action, yet it churned her stomach to think of doing nothing as the plot thickened. "Keep me updated on every move they make," she instructed. "As you wish," replied Argos before the line went dead. Dean Norris leaned back in her chair, tapping a pen against the mahogany surface of her desk. She considered their options – few as they were – with meticulous care. To act prematurely would risk everything; they needed solid proof if they were to protect their Littles and uphold the university's integrity. She reached for another device and dialed a secure number known only to a select few within the Littles Protection Service (LPS). A voice answered on the second ring. "It's Norris. We may have a situation developing with Evelyn Harrow," she began without preamble. She relayed Argos' findings, her words concise and grave. On the other end of the line, there was silence as her contact absorbed the gravity of what was unfolding within their walls. "We'll hold back for now," Dean Norris continued, echoing Argos' counsel. "Monitor closely and prepare to act on my command." "Acknowledged," came the steady reply. The conversation ended with a mutual understanding that hung heavily in the air – an unspoken commitment to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Dean Norris stood up from her desk and walked over to the window that looked out onto the campus below. Students milled about in ignorant bliss of what transpired in hidden places among those they trusted. The weight of leadership bore down on Dean Norris' shoulders like Atlas carrying the world, but she stood resolute against it, determined to bring light into whatever darkness lurked within Emerson University's esteemed halls.

I've been non-binary for a long time. I've always been OK with the way I looked but I have wished I looked more feminine or androgynous. Well, for the last week I have been DIYing Estrogen. I'm not trans but I do hope they will have some feminizing effects on me. I would really like to develop breasts though I know that is a long term thing. It's the start of a journey but I'm excited to see where it goes

Chapter Four June didn’t really have a plan. Ever since Elizabeth had been invited to spend the night at her apartment, June had only been motivated by doing whatever it took to inconvenience and embarrass her boss. So far, things had gone well. Better than June had initially expected, as she was now in control of Elizabeth’s wallet and cell phone. And with only a suitcase full of juvenile clothes, Elizabeth probably wouldn’t be showing her face outside their hotel suite. It wasn’t until June stepped out of the elevator onto the main floor that she realized the possibilities now that she was the only one from their company present for the first evening of the conference. For the next few hours, she could quite literally make herself the face of their department. Initially, this had been all about screwing with Elizabeth’s career. But, what if . . . Instead of going with her original idea to apologize for her boss’s absence, and letting slip that Elizabeth had missed her flight due to oversleeping, June could quite literally pretend that she was the one who had been sent for the various pitches that Elizabeth was supposed to be in charge of. Long term, that was so much better than simply dropping comments that made Elizabeth look irresponsible, untrustworthy, etc. If she played her cards right, June might actually be able to save her career. Elizabeth wouldn’t be capable of firing her if everyone saw how much business June had personally succeeded in bringing to the company. Or, best of both worlds, they would also see that Elizabeth wasn’t nearly as hardworking as she pretended to be. ‘One step at a time,’ June told herself. That was how everything had worked out well up until this point. Rather than some long term scheme, she would continue focusing on the present and adapting along the way. Still, June had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell any outright lies that would later be contradicted. The thing about Elizabeth’s flight was fine because June knew she’d be able to sell that as an excuse to her boss later. Of course, she would have left out the oversleeping part of it, leaving Elizabeth to apologize for her delayed arrival while their potential client would know why she missed the flight. Now that she was speaking for herself, however, June had to be careful. She couldn’t just make up some job title for herself, as the people she’d be talking to tonight would eventually be meeting her higher ups. Plus keeping track of lies was such a chore. She’d be better off weaving clever half-truths and letting her expertise speak for herself. After all, June knew the presentation material better than Elizabeth did. It turned out that pulling that off was a lot easier than expected. All June really had to do was talk about her experience at the company. How she originally started in more of an admin capacity, but was currently in the process of transitioning to more of a business associate role. It might have been a slight stretch, as no one had officially offered her such a position, but she could always claim that someone must have misheard her if someone back at the office ever called her out on it. Because for the most part, it was true. She started more as an admin/assistant, had recently been looped into a number of important conversations, and was now quite literally being flown halfway across the country to assist with securing a major client. For all intents and purposes, she had a promotion coming, as long as Elizabeth was out of the way. Being burdened with most of Elizabeth’s paperwork also ended up giving June an enormous edge as she continued networking throughout the evening. One of their current clients asked about her, and June was quick to clarify what actually was the truth. “Oh, Ms. Harris mostly handles communication. I’m the one responsible for managing most of her accounts. Didn’t I just work on a project that streamlined the way your company does inventory the other month?” June made a point to downplay the memory, while also casually giving herself all the credit. Meanwhile, she aimed to make Elizabeth sound like one of those middle managers who only delegated without actually doing any work herself. That was more or less what Elizabeth was like, anyway. Though Elizabeth contributed at some capacity, June was more than happy to take all the credit for a job that Elizabeth had only done maybe 15% of compared to June’s 85%. There was also no need for June to abandon her first idea. Whenever she had the chance, she innocently mentioned that Elizabeth overslept and missed her flight. Since tomorrow was a completely different battle, June decided to cover her bases. Ideal world, Elizabeth would be trapped in the hotel suite all weekend. However, June really doubted that her boss would take that lying down. Somehow, someway, she would need to figure out if it was possible to solo the weekend. Then a crazy idea presented itself to her in the form of the very same potential client she and Elizabeth had been sent there to land. There were a few other meetings with current clients they would be responsible for, but all of those paled in comparison to the business they were charged with bringing in. After purposely avoiding the female CEO for a good hour or so, as she didn’t want to come across as too desperate or eager, June finally found a window to introduce herself when the two of them were ordering a new round of drinks. In reality, it was June’s first actual cocktail, as she had been drinking tonic water thus far in order to stay on her game while appearing as if she was socializing over drinks like everyone else. All the other conversations had been with people she had either met before or already heard the names of. That’s why it had been so easy to nonchalantly talk herself up while simultaneously putting Elizabeth down. This was different. Taking a completely different approach, June opted to simply be genuine and not play any games. That was where June was nothing at all like Elizabeth. Though June was more than capable of playing the professional role, she was also more down to earth and direct than most people in her department. It was probably why she got noticed, as she simply got to the point with her good ideas, rather than circling for five minutes in corporate speak like she witnessed all the time in various meetings. She and Ruth only talked for a few minutes, during which June got the chance to hear about Ruth’s company. It was a good way to both break the ice and to glean a bit of information that might help with their pitch the following day. Apparently Ruth’s company was rather family oriented, and put a major focus on work/life balance. It could have been bullshit, considering how countless companies claim such things on the surface while actually taking advantage of their employees left and right. The more Ruth talked, the less that seemed to be the case. To her, after rising through the ranks while also being constantly stressed about juggling family commitments, it only seemed fair to not burden anyone else with such challenges. As long as everyone got their work done in a timely manner, Ruth didn’t mind people leaving halfway through the day to pick up a sick child from school, or working remotely when they had responsibilities at home to tackle as well. In fact, there were often times where individuals would come to work with their kid, provided their presence wasn’t disruptive to everyone else. The more June heard, the more the gears in her head started turning. She definitely didn’t want to blindside Ruth at the pitch tomorrow, but also wanted to test the waters in case she could get Elizabeth on board. “That sounds like a really healthy work culture,” June said, “I’m responsible for my niece here and there this weekend, and scheduling has been a nightmare with all the meetings I’m going to be involved with.” That’s all it took. “You’re more than welcome to bring her tomorrow if it makes things easier for you,” Ruth shrugged, “As long as she’s not a distraction, of course.” “Thank you for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind,” June said, “And I really appreciate it. Her parents still have to get back to me about a couple details, but I can call ahead and let your office know in advance if I end up deciding to do that. It’ll certainly be easier than dropping her off somewhere, or commuting back and forth across the city all day.” Ruth went on to explain how that’s exactly why she makes a constant effort to avoid such complications. Instead of wasting time and money on this or that, she’d rather everyone do what’s simplest and easiest whenever possible. By the time she shook Ruth’s hand and expressed how she was looking forward to their meeting tomorrow, June was just barely able to focus on the woman before her. Her thoughts were solely on whether or not she would be able to convince Elizabeth to go along with something like that. June was too young to pass a girl Elizabeth’s size as her daughter, but maybe the ‘niece’ concept would work out. The clothes already did wonders to make Elizabeth look younger, especially with the messy braid. If June had thirty minutes to really put in the effort, Elizabeth might actually be able to pass as a tween girl. A more immature outfit than the one Elizabeth had chosen, a clever combo of hair/make-up, rounded off with how dramatic the contrast would be when June towered over her in business attire? It definitely wasn’t the half of a drink that made it sound like a good idea. June was still completely sober, yet pretty convinced she could pull it off. There was just the matter of getting Elizabeth on board . . . Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s time upstairs hadn’t been nearly as productive as June’s. For nearly thirty minutes, she just sulked. Instead of networking and putting her face to all the projects she had taken full credit for, she was sequestered to her hotel room. Now that June was gone and there was no time pressure, Elizabeth more thoroughly perused the suitcase her assistant had incorrectly grabbed. By the time every single outfit piece was sitting on the bed, Elizabeth was confident that she was wearing the only decent combination available. Most of the tees and tank tops were brighter and girlier than the colors she wore on a daily basis in both her personal and professional life. Huffing in annoyance, she stuffed everything back into the suitcase without any rhyme or reason. She didn’t plan on wearing anything but what she had reluctantly tried on to shut June up. First thing tomorrow, they were going to skip breakfast and go shopping instead. As for the ‘divide and conquer’ strategy June mentioned, Elizabeth found that it didn’t actually make any sense. All their materials were in June’s room. Since Elizabeth had already memorized all of her presentations, there was really nothing else to prepare. She had already gone over the information again and again throughout the last week or so. It took all of ten minutes of pacing back and forth and speed talking through the first few meetings for her to verify that she still knew everything backwards and forwards. Without a phone or laptop, Elizabeth was bored within the hour. Taking June’s suggestion, as she was quite used to her assistant anticipating her needs at this point, Elizabeth picked up the phone and ordered herself a small feast via room service. She would have spent the funds at the bar this evening anyway, plus she was used to treating herself on the company’s dime. On top of that, June had been the one to make the reservations, which meant it would be June’s company card that was charged for whatever Elizabeth ordered. Showing that her assistant was being irresponsible with her credit card was yet another thing Elizabeth could add to the list in terms of getting the girl fired. Elizabeth was a little bit worried about ordering herself wine. Thanks to her size, she was carded quite often, even when dressed more nicely than any college student could afford. If that happened at upscale bars in expensive clothes, she could only imagine what would happen in her current get-up. She was still tempted to change back into her PJs, if only because that’s what her more adult self would wear. However, she decided to stay in the jean shorts and white top on the off chance that June returned early enough that they could head to a nearby store. Things were open later in the city, though Elizabeth’s current lack of technology meant she couldn’t check out the surrounding area. As for drinking, that would be fine, since they reserved the room as young adults. Just to be safe, Elizabeth even requested they leave the tray outside the door. She would often do that anyway, as retrieving her food was preferable to dealing with tedious small talk. Without any other way to entertain herself, Elizabeth found a decent movie to watch. The overpriced food and wine was helpful in taking the edge off after a frustrating day. Still, it was difficult to relax when she was stuck relying on her assistant even more than usual. Even if the airport had sorted things out with Elizabeth’s purse, June would be the one they called. And at this point, there was a chance June wasn’t paying attention to her phone if she was busy laying the groundwork for their meetings tomorrow. June was away until almost 10 PM. She let herself back into their suite and found herself face to face with Elizabeth almost immediately. The more casually dressed girl was lounging on the sofa and was more than halfway done with the nearby bottle of red. “Finally,” Elizabeth huffed, “What took you so long?” “There were a lot of people to talk to,” June said. Getting right to it, she stepped farther into the living room, “Listen, Elizabeth. We need to talk. I have an idea that will give us an edge against the competition tomorrow, but it’s a little bit unorthodox.” “I’m listening,” Elizabeth replied. Sitting up slightly, she added on, “And it’s Ms. Harris.” “We already went over this.” Though she had no intentions of falling back to the more submissive language when they were in a private setting and her boss did not look like a professional woman at all, June split the difference by topping off Elizabeth’s glass. “Let’s worry about titles later. Besides, it won’t make any sense for me to call you that if we decide to commit to what I have in mind.” “And what do you have in mind, June?” That was part of why June had been later to return. After one or two more conversations by the bar, she had spent a good hour or so in a more secluded area drafting up an outline for how she might approach this concept that was going to be insulting no matter how she spun it. The goal was simple–to make Elizabeth see that the benefits would outweigh the blow to her pride. Of course, a little wine couldn’t hurt the equation. She also predicted that leaving Elizabeth alone for longer would ensure that she’d be at least a little tipsy. That was only partially the case, as clearly the petite young woman had been working through the bottle a lot more slowly than the previous evening. So, using the same strategy as she had done back at the apartment, June took it upon herself to refill the glass in a way that ensured Elizabeth would keep drinking. Maybe it was wrong to intentionally lower her inhibitions, but June had been pushed to the point where she would do whatever it took to both protect herself and get a bit of justice/vengeance for Elizabeth’s selfishness and laziness. Intentionally stalling, June started by talking about Ruth’s company. Acting like she was debriefing Elizabeth on the information she had gleaned downstairs, while really setting the stage for what was to come. All while letting Elizabeth sip more wine along the way. Most importantly, June emphasized how family was something their soon to be client valued. She was certainly stretching the truth, as it sounded like Ruth’s real goal was keeping her people happy from a mental health and work/life balance standpoint, but Elizabeth didn’t need to know that. Children had been mentioned enough times in the earlier conversation, as that had been Ruth’s personal struggle as both a mother and a business woman. The nuances didn’t matter quite as much when it was just June and Elizabeth, as long as the end result could be achieved. “Anyway,” June said, “I would have cleared it with you first, but you lost your phone. Basically, I floated the idea that I might be stuck with my niece for part of the day tomorrow, and the CEO encouraged me to bring her to the meeting if that simplified my schedule.” “Your niece?” Elizabeth asked, “This is a business trip. Why the fuck would you have to watch your niece at all? That’s not what you’re here for.” June took a breath, as if she was hesitant to continue. Taking the bait without realizing it, Elizabeth scoffed. “What? Spit it out, June.” Pausing for another second to really sell it, June explained, “I think we should say that you’re my niece. Let me give the presentation, and show Ruth that they’ll be working with people that share their family values.” “Umm, what? That’s ridiculous.” It was one thing to be mistaken as underage at the liquor store. This was something else entirely. “It’s not ridiculous,” June simply said, “Here, give it a try. Call me ‘Aunt June.’” ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia

So I broke my hand last week and finally went to see the orthopedic center yesterday. The doctor decided surgery was necessary and they are going to schedule me for next week. However, they did catch me off guard when they wanted to do it EKG during the visit because I have hypertension. I had a onesie style undershirt on under my T-shirt, and was wearing a Peak ABU under that. I wasn’t expecting any attention anywhere, but my hand. I ended up just pulling the shoulder straps down to my waist and said it was easier with my hand. Crisis averted, but I was definitely on the spot for a second.

Ted’s mouth was dry. His hangover was certainly making him feel ill, but glares his roommates wore were enhancing his discomfort tenfold. Stacey was calm, but stern, staring daggers right through him with her piercing blue eyes. Lara looked absolutely pissed. Her brown eyes showed a fire Ted had never seen in her. He knew the feeling was inappropriate, but he felt oddly attracted to her in this agitated state. Ted had a hard time meeting either girl’s gaze. He felt ashamed, and mostly stared at his feet as he shuffled them nervously. He did not speak. “I asked you a question,” said Stacey, still measured, but sternly raising her voice slightly. “What do you have to say for yourself?” “I… I’m…” Ted stammered. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “What was that??” Lara barked at him. “I’m sorry,” said Ted, firmly and looking Lara in the eye. He felt her stare soften a bit, as Lara recognized that he was genuinely regretful. “I’m sure you are,” Stacey said authoritatively. “You have quite a mess to clean up here. I expect it will take you most of the day. But the mess is only one part of this. We’ll need to take a walk around and make sure nothing was damaged. You’re very lucky your mattress wasn’t ruined by your little accident.” Ted blushed profusely. He again averted his eyes in shame. Stacey continued. “When you moved in here, we had a big talk about this. That was only a couple of months ago, when you agreed to respect our home and not throw outrageous parties.” She paused for dramatic emphasis. “And now, you’ve proven that you can’t be trusted. The minute Lara and I left town, you disrespected our shared space. As I’m sure you know, actions have consequences. So what do you think should be the consequences of your actions?” Ted once again felt like a little boy being scolded for misbehavior. He was fairly sure his mother had used the exact same phrase about consequences when he was younger. He shrugged. “I’ll clean everything up,” he murmured, “and pay for anything that got damaged.” “You’re damn right you will!” Lara cut in. Stacey put a hand on her friend’s leg and gave her a look that said ‘take it easy…’ Lara nodded and took a breath. Turning back to Ted, Stacey said, “Yes, you absolutely will clean the entire apartment and pay for any damage. But what about the breach of trust? How can Lara and I be sure this won’t happen again?” Fidgeting in his seat, Ted pleaded. “Please don’t make me move out. I’m really sorry and I truly promise it won’t happen again. I’ll clean everything now, and I’ll do extra cleaning all week to make up for it. Please. I can’t afford to live on my own. Please…” Stacey worked hard to suppress the smile curling in the corners of her mouth. Lara, too, was feeling satisfied with Ted’s groveling. Stacey continued to take the lead. “We would be very justified in kicking you out. You obviously know that. But I think we can give you a chance to earn back our trust. “Doing some extra chores this week sounds like a good start. Maybe a little childish, but you acted in an immature way, so perhaps a childish punishment is just what you need.” Ted’s heat sank when he heard the word ‘punishment.’ He was suddenly reminded of the ‘punishments’ he had overheard a few nights prior. Across the room, he saw the paddles hanging on the wall, neatly framed between his two roommates. He swallowed hard, almost an audible ‘gulp.’ Lara cut in. “I don’t think extra chores are enough of a punishment to earn back my trust. Since we’re considering about childish punishments, I think you should be grounded next weekend too. Just sit at home while everyone else is out, so you can think about what you did.” Ted hung his head. He did not want to miss a whole weekend out drinking with his friends. But he couldn’t think of a way to wriggle out of this. It seemed he would have to do whatever Stacey and Lara said in order to avoid being forced to move. “Hmm… it seems maybe Teddy doesn’t like that idea.” Ted blanched when Stacey used his childhood nickname. She prodded him further. “Don’t you think you deserve to be grounded? Or is there some other type of punishment that you think would be more appropriate for your behavior?” Now Lara had to suppress her smile. She couldn’t believe how neatly their plan was working out. Stacey had the boy wrapped around her finger, and it was only a matter of time before he was bare bottomed, getting his overdue spanking. Ted shifted in his seat. He suddenly felt the hard wood of the chair very acutely through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. He did not answer Stacey, as he debated internally. Being grounded did not sound fun. It was senior year, and there were a finite number of weekends left to party. Missing one of them because he was being punished like a teenager would be devastating. He considered the alternative. If he suggested taking a spanking instead, it would be painful no doubt, not to mention humiliating. But it would be quick. When it was over, he would be forgiven. Ted then recalled the excitement he had experienced listening to his roommates paddle each other. His cock stiffened and rubbed delightfully against his soft pants. How bad could it be? “Well?” Stacey’s voice broke him from his daydream. “Extra chores and grounded? Or do you have another suggestion?” Ted’s eyes were fixed on the paddles hanging on the wall. His mind was made up, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for it. Stacey turned and looked over her shoulder to glance at the paddles. She turned back to Ted, whose line of sight did not shift. His lip quivered as he struggled to speak. “Are you looking at those paddles?” Stacey asked bluntly. Ted didn’t move. Lara snapped her fingers. “Hey! Stacey asked you a question. Speak up, mister!” Ted looked back and forth at Stacey and Lara. He slowly nodded. “Do you think you deserve a paddling?” Lara asked. Again, Ted nodded. “What a great idea,” Stacey chirped. “I think a being spanked like a little boy will teach you a good lesson about acting like a grown up.” The room was silent for a solid minute. Ted’s heart was racing, his bottom and genitals tingling. Stacey turned to Lara. “What do you think, hon? Should we give this young man a good spanking?” Lara and Ted locked eyes. She smiled at him warmly. Her sweet look made him relax slightly. “Absolutely,” she affirmed. Ted hung his head. His fate was sealed. “Good. Teddy, please go choose one of the paddles from the wall over there,” Stacey commanded. Ted didn’t move. “Right now mister!” Lara yelled. Ted jumped from his chair and hurriedly crossed the room. The girls turned to watch him. He inspected each paddle, suddenly realizing how heavy they were and how much they were likely to hurt. He hesitated only a moment before choosing the one that appeared to be slightly thinner. Lara giggled with glee. “Oh goodie he chose mine!” Stacey stood from the couch. “Ok then. I get to give the warm up, and you give the swats.” Ted was puzzled, walking slowly back to the middle of the room, as Stacey took his place in the kitchen chair. “Please hand that paddle to Lara and come over here,” instructed Stacey. Still confused, but eager to get this over with, Ted complied. Stacey took his hands and stood him directly in front of where she sat. “Now here’s what’s going to happen,” she explained. “I’m going to put you across my lap and spank your bare bottom thoroughly with my hand. Once you are nice and red and warmed up, you’ll bend over the edge of the couch and Lara will paddle you.” She let her words sink in. Ted couldn’t believe this was about to happen. He hadn’t been spanked in years, and he had definitely never been hit with anything as heavy as the paddle that Lara now held, tapping it against her thigh. He was scared. Stacey continued. “This is just the beginning of your punishment. After you’ve been well spanked, you can begin cleaning. Once this place is spotless, the three of us will sit down and discuss whether any additional punishments that may be needed.” Again she paused. Squeezing his hands tightly to reassure him, she added, “We’ll also have to discuss your little bed wetting problem.” Hanging his head in shame, Ted felt tears well in his eyes. Stacey took his chin in her hand and lifted it so she would look him in the eye. She felt a surge of maternal energy, comforting Ted before she disciplined him. “It’s ok,” she said with a warm smile, her blue eyes glistening. “We'll get it all figured out, and we’ll make sure we can all trust each other again.” Ted felt an odd calm wash over him. Stacey was being so caring. She was being firm, but fair. He knew he had to earn her trust back. He knew he needed to be punished. “But, I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind,” Stacey said. “Before I take you over my knee, you can choose to not be punished. You can instead choose, if you’d rather, to pack your things and find somewhere else to live where this kind of behavior is tolerated.” Ted remained silent. No way was he moving out. He was ready to take his medicine. Still holding his chin, Stacey asked directly. “So? What’ll it be? Pack your bags, or get your bottom beat?” Ted took a deep breath. He found his courage. “I deserve to be punished. I’m sorry. Please give me a spanking.” Stacey gently slapped his face. “Gladly.” She hooked Ted’s arm and tossed him in a heap across her knees. Manhandling him, Stacey adjusted him into just the right position with his bottom perfectly primed for her hand. Patting him over his sweatpants, Stacey asked Lara, “What do we say about bottoms during a spanking, Lara?” The two girls sing-songed together, “ALWAYS ON THE BARE!!” Stacey hooked Ted's elastic waistband and yanked his pants down. Ted gasped as the cool air hit his backside. His cock, too, took note of his naked state in front of the beautiful girls. It stiffened and pressed into Stacey’s thighs. She ignored it, knowing it wouldn’t last once she got started. She slapped him once, hard, her long fingers covering plenty of ground. She rubbed him gently. “Ok little boy. Are you ready for your spanking?” “Yes…” he said meekly. Stacey started in. She held Ted tightly around the waist, and let him have it.

“Oh yeah, let’s go to the house and change. I don’t want the world to see my diapers.” Said Zuri looking down at the padded undergarment. She started to watch the cars and landscape. Zuri’s eyes started close and she was soon asleep in backseat. She was starting to get used to this baby treatment. Zuri whimpered in her sleep. Zuri’s thumb made her way to her mouth and she started to suck her thumb.

A short sequel for Valentine's Day (that comes a few weeks after Valentine's Day because I forgot to post it here) *** “Good morning, little cucky,” the monster cooed, peering over the bars of the crib. “Happy Valentine’s Day! Could you hear the grown-ups having their fun earlier, sweetie? I hope we didn’t wake you…” Debbie glowered at her, all too aware of how ridiculous she must look trying to be intimidating with a pacifier bobbing in her mouth, lying at the bottom of an oversized crib beneath a set of Disney princess bedsheets. Her eyes were red, and there were tears drying on her cheeks as well. She had indeed woken up to the loud sounds of lovemaking coming from her former bedroom. The Succubus laughed. “Oh dear! Someone’s a very grumpy girl today! Looks like we did wake you after all, huh? I guess you’ll just have to have an extra-long nap this afternoon to make up for it. But right now it’s time to get you up and dressed, little one!” She flung back the princess covers to reveal Debbie’s body, nude but for the thick disposable diaper around her waist. Debbie slipped out of her crib, her nappy sagging heavily between her legs as she got to her feet. Her bottom lip trembled behind her soother. She’d woken up wet again. The Succubus reached out, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and put her hand on Debbie’s crotch. Debbie could feel the cold, soggy padding pressing against her pussy. “That’s my little bedwetter,” said the Succubus softly. She slipped a finger past the leak guards, her eyes not leaving Debbie’s face. “Soaked again... Mummy’s poor widdle baby just can’t contwol herself, can she?” Then she spun her around and pulled out the back of her diaper. “But you’re still not pooping at night.” She turned her back around, smiling horribly. “Don’t worry though. Sooner or later you’ll start waking up stinky.” Debbie imagined waking up every morning to a yucky mess in the seat of her pants and no memory of how it had got there, and felt sick at the thought. The Succubus wanted her to be fully incontinent. Her horrifying voice power had served to strip Debbie of most of her daytime control, but her commands didn’t work as well when Debbie was sleeping. It had taken weeks of ‘special medicine’ in her baby bottles, but now she was starting to reliably wake up in pissy Pampers. Yet the creature who had stolen her adulthood clearly wouldn’t be satisfied until she was doing the most babyish thing possible in her pants while she slept. Once her hair was tied up in pigtails, frilly socks had been pulled over her feet, and she was dressed in a pale pink frock that failed to reach past the drooping, discoloured seat of her nappy (her overnight diaper was never changed before she made her morning poo-poo), Debbie was ready to head downstairs for breakfast. Mealtimes had been bad enough from the start, when the demon liked to cram her body inside a tight highchair, tie a bib around her neck, and feed her jar after jar of bland, mushy baby food – but things had become even worse ever since she’d realised there was another, better way to feed her ‘baby girl’. They headed into the living room rather than the kitchen once they’d gone down the stairs, to find John lounging in an armchair having just finished his breakfast. His empty tray was sitting on a table beside him. “Go and kiss Daddy good morning,” said the Succubus, patting Debbie’s diapered bottom to send her on her way. Debbie hurried over to her husband. She wasn’t really allowed to kiss him, she knew. Instead she pressed the shield of her binky briefly against his cheek and let him pat her on the head. “Good morning, pretty princess,” he cooed, and Debbie’s heart did a little flutter despite herself. She turned around and felt her stomach roll, as it always did, at the sight of the Succubus sitting on the sofa with her large, heavy tits out of her top. A droplet of milk was glistening on the end of one of her nipples. “Come to Mummy, baby,” she said seductively, her dark eyes burning like coals. “Time for your feeding.” Debbie toddled to the sofa, diaper crinkling noisily, and lay herself across the monster woman’s lap. It had taken a while for her milk to come in, but now she produced enough that Debbie had three meals a day from her boobs, supplemented in the evenings by oatmeal and store-bought baby food. With a wet pop, the Succubus removed the dummy from her mouth and guided her lips slowly towards her waiting breast, clearly savouring the look of revulsion on her victim’s face. Debbie felt the warm nipple enter her mouth, and her lips closed around it and began to suckle instinctively, enthusiastically, against her will. Hot, creamy breastmilk ran down her throat at once. It had a rum-like sweetness to it that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but no matter how hard she tried, Debbie couldn’t ignore the fact that she was guzzling milk from another woman’s tits. It didn’t help that the Succubus cooed to her in a sickening sweet voice while she fed. “Good girl, Debbie! Drink up all your milkies, that’s a good baby. Isn’t it yummy-wummy? Straight from Mummy’s boobies to baby’s belly.” The milk seemed endless, and Debbie’s stomach already felt full to bursting when she was moved onto the second breast. But she knew better than to try and fight. That would just make the creature use that cold, awful voice, and Debbie would simply end up doing as she was told anyway. She may even earn herself a spanking to boot. At last she finished her breakfast, and after being briefly burped with her head over the Succubus’s shoulder, the monster kissed her on the forehead, shoved her pacifier back between her lips, and got up. “Time for Mummy to have her breakfast too,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think pancakes sound tasty. You stay here and behave yourself, okay sweetie?” And she left Debbie sitting on the sofa feeling heavy and tired, with her tummy full to the brim with breastmilk. But Debbie knew she had a rare opportunity. It wasn’t often that the Succubus left her alone with her husband. John was still in his armchair, reading the paper, and the moment the demon left the living room, Debbie got off the sofa and waddled over to him as fast as she could. She could feel the milk sloshing around in her stomach. John looked up from his paper at the sound of her rustling diaper just as she reached him. Pushing aside his newspaper, her gaze fixed on his handsome face, Debbie clambered into her husband’s lap and straddled one of his legs. She bounced impatiently on his knee, and John wrinkled his nose at the pee-pee smell, but he chuckled indulgently all the same. “Do you want a horsey-ride, little missy?” “Yes please,” Debbie whispered breathily, her soother falling from her mouth and dangling on the end of its chord. It had been over two weeks since she’d last had the opportunity for a ‘horsey-ride’ on his lap, but she felt that if the two of them could just have something resembling an intimate moment today, on Valentine’s Day, it would somehow undo the Succubus’s brainwashing and make John see her as a woman again. John raised his eyebrow at her. “Yes please, Daddy,” she corrected, hating the monster that had done this to her loving husband. John nodded, satisfied, and started to bounce his knee. “Horsey, horsey, don’t you stop,” he sang, “just let your feet go clippety-clop!” Debbie suppressed a moan of pleasure as her padded pussy was pressed hard against his knee with each bounce. If she closed her eyes and ignored the singing, if she pressed her body against his chest and pretended her pants weren’t full of pee-pee, she could almost pretend that they were making love. “Your tail goes swish and your wheels go round!” Her clit was pulsing delightfully. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. She was so desperate these days. She was almost there… She was right on the edge… “Giddy up, we’re homeward bound!” “I think that’s enough of that!” came the Succubus’s amused voice, and Debbie felt arms loop around her middle and lift her effortlessly off her husband’s knee. “Noooo!” she shrieked, kicking her legs and humping the air desperately. Her pussy was spasming, tantalisingly close to relief. “No! No! No!” Her feet hit the floor and there was a sharp smack on her bottom. “Aren’t you a lucky girl, getting to play on Daddy’s lap for a bit!” the demon crooned darkly. She swatted Debbie’s bottom again. “But settle down now, babykins. You can’t play horsey forever, and Daddy doesn’t want you rubbing your disgusting, piss-soaked diaper all over him.” “Pleeeease…” Debbie begged, tears welling up in her eyes. She pressed her hand against the front of her nappy and started to rub. She couldn’t stop herself. She needed release. “Bad girl, Debbie!” the Succubus scolded, pushing her hands away from her crotch. “Is that what Mummy’s taught you to do when you’re feeling naughty tingles in your no-no spot?” Debbie whined. She clenched her fists at her sides and bounced on the spot. Her pussy was so achy. She hated asking, hated what it involved, but it was the only time the Succubus ever allowed her to orgasm. Most of the time the monster refused her. But occasionally, just frequently enough, she’d say yes. “Mummy…” Debbie said through gritted teeth. “Please can I have sex?” “Keep going, baby,” the Succubus said, her eyes glittering maliciously. “Ask properly.” “I know… I know I’m too silly and little for real sex,” said Debbie, glaring at the floor, “but I want to play pretend. Please can I have sex with my teddy bear?” The Succubus ran her fingers through one of Debbie’s pigtails, considering, letting the silence drag on. “Yes you may, baby,” she said finally. “Go get teddy.” Debbie rushed over to the toybox that sat in the corner of the room and pulled out an enormous teddy bear, disentangling him from some of her dress-up clothes. But she’d only gone two steps back towards the Succubus when she stopped dead. For a moment, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Then a soft grunt escaped her lips. Her knees began to bend, and she found herself sinking into an uncontrollable squat. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “No…” she sobbed. “Uh-oh!” sang the Succubus, and Debbie could hear the grin on her face. “Looks like it’s time for someone’s morning whoopsies!” John laughed. “I’m just glad she waited until she was out of my lap!” Debbie let out a loud, unladylike grunt, following by another sob, and then she got to work pushing last night’s din-dins into her pants. Her diaper drooped even lower beneath the hem of her frock as a heavy, smelly mess dropped into the back. Her face was scrunched up as though she was straining with all her might to make as big of a poo-poo as she possibly could in her Pampers, although the truth was that she was quite out of control of her own body. Her nappy sagged again as she dumped another load into it, accompanied by a fresh wave of wee-wee, so that her baby pants hung so heavily between her thighs they were halfway down to her knees. Then, with a final grunt, Debbie straightened up. “Mummy…” she whimpered. “Please can I have a change before… before…” The Succubus’s face was as full of delight as Debbie’s was with horror. She approached the quivering baby woman like a predator. “No, little one,” she said, her tone mocking. “If you want your special rub-rubs today then you have to have them now, in your dirty diaper.” She shoved Debbie’s dummy back between her lips, took her by the hand, and led her over to the centre of the room. “Put teddy down here,” she said, pointing at the floor. Arms trembling, Debbie did as she was told. She felt sick with shame, but even with the horrible, babyish mess in her pants, her pussy was still burning needily. “Good girl,” said the monster, flushed with arousal. “Now you can have sex with teddy, and I can have sex with your husband.” She looked over at John. “Ready for round two?” she asked, smirking. John grinned back and started to undo his belt as his lover strutted over to him, stripping off her clothes as she went. Meanwhile Debbie lowered herself gently to the floor, on top of her teddy bear. She nearly gagged when the poop in her diaper squished against her bottom, but she was almost too horny to care. The first thrust against teddy sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her body, and she couldn’t stop herself moaning like a slut. She heard John and the Succubus laugh, but she kept going, grinding her aching, diaper-clad pussy against her bear, picking up speed. But then she made the mistake of looking up, and although she didn’t stop humping, Debbie started to wail at the sight of the demon riding her husband’s cock. She was straddling his lap, bouncing up and down on his manhood with her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Oh, oh, ohhh!” she moaned. Debbie felt her orgasm getting closer and closer, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the nightmare happening before her. She sucked frantically on her binky and went cross-eyed as she thrust against her teddy bear, her head dizzy with need. She was right on the edge. And then she was over it, she was cumming in her stinky, sopping wet diaper – and as she did, the Succubus looked over her shoulder with an evil smile and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby girl…”

A Succubus prowls the night on Halloween and discovers that her powers, in addition to overcoming men with lust, also render women submissive and childish. She decides to seduce a man in a bar, and when his wife tries to protest, she transforms her into an adult baby cuckquean. *** The Succubus strutted down the street in her black high-heels, putting one slender crimson leg in front of the other, making her hips sway with every step. She wore fishnet stockings and a shadowy miniskirt that flashed her dark thong as she walked, and exposed the bottom of her bouncing bum-cheeks. Her tight, red midriff was bare, but the cold October air didn’t bother her one bit. A lacy black bra held up her full breasts, and she wore nothing else above the waist. Two small, sharp horns peaked out from her luscious black hair, and a pointed tail swished behind her. All around her, men stopped and stared as she passed, hypnotised by her blood-red lips, by the subtle jiggling of her breasts and the flashes beneath her skirt. Their wives and girlfriend tugged at their arms angrily, sending bitter, jealous looks her way, though none could meet her gaze. When she flashed her coal-black eyes at them, they blushed and looked at their feet, still tugging on their men’s sleeves and whining like shy little girls trying to get their Daddies’ attention. The Succubus smiled. She supposed it was only to be expected that her powers, though meant to enslave men to their desires, would also have a means of keeping truculent wives from interfering with her seductions. It seemed the poor things would be left unable to do more than pout and fuss while she took their husbands to bed before their very eyes. The thought made her pussy tingle delightfully. This was her first time in this realm, but with luck, she’d be staying. The air was cool and fresh here, and it smelt of earth and pumpkins, quite a change from the other place. All she needed was a man to drain. But, she thought, her smile turning into a grin, if he happened to have a woman along with him too, that would be just fine. She noticed a bar up ahead, light and noise spilling out from it onto the pavement. Perfect. Humans were susceptible enough at the best of times if anything of what she’d heard was true, but a little alcohol in her target’s system couldn’t hurt. She slipped inside and was met with heat and noise, though it was nothing compared to what she was used to. The bar was full of people drinking and laughing, most of them dressed up in costume. Pirates, princesses, vampires, nurses… Strange what these humans were frightened of. She scanned around for someone suitable. She wanted someone handsome, if she could. Not too old, or too young. Ideally someone who wasn’t surrounded by his friends, either… Then she spotted him. A good-looking man with neat brown hair and the shadow of a beard, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, sitting in a booth at the far end of the room. He was dressed as a lumberjack – checked flannel shirt, jeans, and suspenders, and there was nobody beside him. The Succubus stalked towards him, hoping he’d look up and see her coming. Human men seemed to enjoy the way she walked. But the man’s attention was focused in front of him, and as she got closer, she realised there was a woman was sitting opposite him. Her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails, and she’d crammed her shapely body into a blue-and-yellow-striped cheerleader’s outfit. A smirk played around the Succubus’s lips. The girl was hot, but not as hot as her. She slid into the booth beside the man, interrupting their conversation, staring into his face with burning eyes. “Hi…” she said, huskily. “Wow…” said the lumberjack. “Uh, nice costume.” “Thanks,” she said, stroking his arm with her finger. “What’s your name?” The man swallowed. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. “John…” “It’s nice to meet you, John,” she purred, moving her face closer to his. “That’s a good, strong name.” “Hey!” She paused and turned to the woman opposite. The cheerleader was glaring at her furiously. “What do you think you’re doing?!” The Succubus leant back and smiled, her eyes glittering. She was going to enjoy this. “And what’s your name, sweetie?” The cheerleader hesitated, clearly taken aback by her unnerving presence. Despite their rational minds telling them she was just wearing a costume, something deeper in these humans’ heads was screaming otherwise. “Deborah, but-” “It’s nice to meet you, Debbie,” she cooed, her voice like honey. “Are you out with your Daddy?” “My… my Daddy?!” The woman blushed, no doubt wondering if she’d really been mistaken for the lumberjack’s daughter, or if she was just being mocked. “That’s right,” said the Succubus. “There are all sorts of dangerous monsters about on Halloween. It’s a good thing you’ve got your Daddy to protect you, isn’t it?” Deborah glowered. “He’s not my Daddy!” she said, blushing harder when she realised how stupid she sounded. She gritted her teeth. “I’m his wife!” she said. “We got married just last month! Tell her, John!” The Succubus smiled to herself. This one had quite a strong will. But no matter. That just made it more fun. She leaned towards John again, giving him a perfect view of her cleavage. She put an arm under her boobs and jostled them gently, and with the other she reached out under the table, touching his thigh with her hand. “What do you think, handsome? Is she your wife? Or is she just a silly little girl? Or maybe she’s both… Maybe you married her because you thought she was a sexy grown woman, but now that you’re looking at me, you’re realising she’s nothing but a stupid child...” Deborah got to her feet. “That’s enough! Leave him alone! He’s mine! He-” “Bad girl, Debbie,” the Succubus hissed, in her coldest, most terrible voice. Her dark eyes glinted red like smouldering coals. “Don’t throw a tantrum, little missy.” Deborah froze. Her eyes widened in fear and shock, and, to the Succubus’s delight, a dark stain appeared on the front of her skirt. A soft pitter-pattering noise could just be heard over the music as the woman wet herself in front of them. Pee ran down her legs and soaked into her socks and trainers, and a small puddle formed on the floor at her feet. The Succubus tittered. It was a sound like tinkling bells. So much for having a strong will! These humans were even easier to control than she thought! “Whoopsie!” she sang. “It looks like someone’s had an accident! Are you sure you’re a grown-up, Debbie? Maybe you should be out trick or treating with the other kiddies.” She cocked her head. “Or maybe you’re too little for that. Maybe you belong in diapers. Maybe you belong in a nursery.” Deborah’s mouth tried to speak, but no words came out. Her bottom lip trembled as she stared, transfixed, at the inhuman thing sitting before her. “I think we ought to head back to your place,” the Succubus said in John’s ear. The man hardly seemed to have heard what had been going on. He was still staring at her breasts, but there was a faintly confused expression on his face. The Succubus had to giggle. Men were so silly! It looked like he was trying to contemplate something profound between her tits. “Let’s go back to yours,” she said again, breathily, “and you can do more than look.” “But… but what am I supposed to do?” Deborah whined petulantly. “You can come too, sweetie,” said the Succubus, smirking at the woman’s childish transformation. “But go by the store and buy yourself some diapers first. The thickest you can find. Silly little girls who wet their pants can’t be trusted to wear big girl undies.” “But-” “Do as I say, Debbie,” she said, using her iron voice. Deborah whimpered and hurried out of the booth, heading for the door as fast as she could, attempting to cover the wet patch on the front of her skirt with her hands. The Succubus took her lover-to-be by the hand and led him slowly out of the bar after her. Their drinks were left half-finished on the table. They stepped outside in the fresh air, the Succubus revelling in all the stares she was getting. But she had what she needed for tonight. One man would do – in fact, it was all the better for what she had in mind. True, she could bind herself more easily to this realm if she simply found a bunch of frat boys to do her rough until morning, but she didn’t want her permanent entrance to the human world to begin with one cock rammed in her pussy, another down her throat, and a third up her butt. She had a little more class than that, and she had her future here to think about. “Lead the way, handsome,” she said to John, standing up on tiptoe to let her words tickle his ear. It wasn’t a long walk to his apartment, and the Succubus was pleased to see it looked expensive and well-furnished. After all, it might just be her new home. She looked around approvingly at the master bedroom as she slipped off John’s suspenders and began to undo the buttons on his lumberjack shirt. A part of her knew she could just slip into bed with him and get to work, but she lingered, taking her time with the buttons, with his belt, teasing his hardness with her fingers, waiting for his wife to return. Something about the idea of making little Debbie watch while she took her husband away excited her even more than seducing John himself. She grinned when she heard the front door opening. “In here, Debbie!” she called, and a moment later Deborah appeared in the bedroom, her mascara smeared with tears, a large pack of adult diapers in her arms. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes when she saw her husband standing naked in the arms of another woman. “Put them on,” the Succubus instructed, nodding at the nappies. Then she kissed John lustily on the lips, moaning into his mouth as Deborah ripped open the plastic packaging. She could feel herself growing stronger, becoming more rooted to this world as his hands groped her ass and her felt up her breasts. She heard a sob and a crinkle as Deborah began taping her diaper around her waist, and a jolt of power ran down her spine and darted into her nether regions. She let out another moan. Still kissing John passionately, she glanced to the side and saw Deborah holding the bulky pair of baby pants up between her legs, under her pee-stained cheerleader skirt. She thrilled as the woman sobbed again. It’s the humiliation, she realised. A woman’s humiliation feeds me just as much as a man’s lust. She pulled out of the kiss and turned, drinking in the sight of the twenty-something-year-old woman standing before her with an obvious diaper bulge around her waist, and a hint of white peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. “Good girl, Debbie!” she crooned. “The widdle baby’s got her diapee on now, yes she does! No more pee-pee puddles on the floor, huh sweetie?” Deborah blushed scarlet and glared at her, her fists clenched. She seemed to be torn between rage, shame, fear, and confusion. “This is your new life, diaper girl,” said the Succubus. “Say goodbye to fun with men and hello to humping your pillows in pissy Pampers.” She reached behind her and unclasped her black bra, tossing it aside and freeing her large breasts. She laughed when she saw both John and Deborah staring at them, spellbound. She gave her boobs a little shake. “I think my lover’s just seen his favourite toys,” she said, looking at John. “But the baby,” she said, turning to Deborah, “probably just wants a suckle. That will have to wait until later though, little one.” She reached under her wispy black miniskirt, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and shimmied them down her legs. She could feel John’s eyes on her tush as she wiggled it from side to side. “It’s about time your husband and I fucked. But as long as you don’t make too much noise, you can stand in the corner and watch, okay?” The Succubus turned back to John, looking at him with her smouldering, hypnotic eyes. She sauntered over, breasts bouncing enticingly on her chest. She grinned as he pulled her naked body tight against his, breathing hard in her ear. She could feel his thick cock pressed against her lower belly. “No!” Deborah screamed suddenly. “Stop this!” She stomped her foot. “You can’t do this! I don’t know what you’ve done to make us act like this, but it’s going to stop now! I’m a grown woman and-” The Succubus stepped out of John’s embrace and faced Deborah sternly, hands on her hips like a strict governess. “Poop your pants!” she ordered, cutting across her. “I… I…” Deborah seemed to struggle internally, fighting with all her might. “NO!” she shouted. “I’m not gonna listen to you, you stupid demon!” A flash of rage crossed the Succubus’s beautiful features, and she advanced on the woman. “Never hold your pee or poop again, Debbie!” she hissed in her icy, terrible voice. “Go to the toilet in your own pants for the rest of your miserable life, you stupid toddler!” Deborah staggered back in terror, her bulky diaper crinkling. For a moment, she just stood there, wide-eyed. Then her body betrayed her. Her face a mask of horror, Deborah sank into a squat and started pooping her diaper. She grunted and strained to push the yucky, warm load into her pants like an oversized two-year-old. Her bladder released again as well, soaking the front of the thirsty padding and turning it faintly yellow. “Nooooo…” she whimpered, as the horrible mess sank heavily into the seat of her diaper, making it sag down to her mid-thighs. “Pleeeease…” The Succubus’s face softened. “There we go,” she said lightly, reaching down to pat the bottom of Deborah’s nappy, squishing the mess inside against the woman’s bottom. “That’s better.” “Ewww!” Deborah wailed, once she’d finished messing herself. “No, no, no!” She stomped her feet pathetically. “I don’t wanna wear diapers! I don’t wanna share my husband!” “Awww, I’m sorry sweetie,” the Succubus cooed in her syrupy voice, “but you’re just a big, stinky baby now. What man is going to find you attractive? You’re not even out of diapers! Besides, we won’t be sharing him, Debbie. Your husband is all mine. You’ll never have sex again. Not with him, not with anyone.” She practically shuddered with euphoria at the expression on the woman’s face. Then she looked at John with her best bedroom eyes. “Did you hear that, lover? You need a real woman, not an overgrown toddler. Look at your wife. She just pooped her pants. You’ll never be able to find her attractive again after this, will you? Debbie belongs in a nursery, not your bed.” John nodded, sparing his wife’s dirty diaper a brief look of disgust before turning his attention back to nearly-naked beauty before him. Debbie sobbed again. “John… No…” “We’ll fix you up a proper nursery in due time, but for now the guest room will have to do,” said the Succubus, pointing at the door. John stood just behind her. He slipped one arm around her waist and bent down to kiss her neck. Deborah looked at them with big, wet eyes, her lip wobbling pitifully. “Do as Mummy says, Debbie,” said the Succubus, her dark eyes sparkling. “You could have stayed to watch, but since you threw a tantrum, you’ll have to make do with listening instead, and using your imagination while you hump your pillows in your full diaper. That’s what sex is to you now, Debbie. Now go to your room this instant, or I’ll spank your naughty bottom over my knee!” Tears streaming down her cheeks, the pigtailed cheerleader turned and toddled out of the room as fast as she could in her saggy diaper, off to put herself to bed. The Succubus could feel the embarrassment radiating off her, and she drank it down hungrily. She hadn’t felt this strong, this real, in all the centuries she’d been alive. But her place here wasn’t yet permanent. There was one more thing left to do. She fell into bed with John, delighting in his strong arms wrapped around her, in the taste of his lips, and, of course, the feel of his manhood as he thrust himself deep inside her. She moaned as loud as she could, imagining Debbie in the next room over furiously grinding her thickly padded clit on her pillow to the sounds of their lovemaking, trying to ignore the squish of her pee-soaked Pampers and the feel of the babyish mess sitting between her bum-cheeks. “Oh, oh, oooohhhh!” John’s hands roamed her body eagerly, pulling and groping, and each touch made the Succubus’s pussy pulse with pleasure. But still, her mind couldn’t help wandering, thinking about her perfect little human family. Her lover and her baby. She’d have to get a crib, of course. And a changing table too. And plenty of toys to make Debbie play with. Not to mention some posters to decorate her room. Disney princesses, maybe, to match the bedsheets she had in mind. She’d hate that. And a highchair, and a bib, and lots of lots of adorable dresses! She grabbed John by the hips and bounced her coochie faster and faster on his cock. And onesies and hairbows and frilly little socks! John groaned beneath her, thrusting up forcefully, and as he came inside her and the Succubus took just a little of his soul to bind herself to the Earth, she moaned in ecstasy and thought, I bet Debbie would look just darling in braces! She slumped against John’s chest as the man fell unconscious, smiling to herself as the red of her skin faded, her horns crept back beneath her dark hair, and her tail began to disappear. Even if she didn’t need to feed herself that way anymore, with the lust of men and the humiliation of women, that didn’t mean she had to throw away her new toys. Her dark eyes flashed, and she grinned. Debbie had a very embarrassing life ahead of her.

The next couple of days, Ted and his roommates didn’t see much of one another. All three kept busy with class, homework, and social activities. By Friday afternoon, Lara and Stacey were packing up to head away for the weekend on their sorority’s annual retreat. Ted would be home alone for two days, and he was looking forward to having the place to himself. As he left class on Friday morning, one of his buddies, Jeff, came running up to him across the quad. “Hey! Finally having that party tomorrow huh?” Ted looked at his friend, puzzled. “What?” “I heard about the bash at your place tomorrow. That amazing backyard…” Jeff was almost wistful. “We gotta get beer pong set up on the patio table!” Ted was dumbstruck. He was definitely not planning a party. He knew his roommates would disapprove. It was unclear to him where this was coming from. “What time should we come by?” Jeff continued eagerly. Then, like a lightning bolt, Ted remembered his roommates would be out of town all weekend. He and his friends could party their asses off, and as long as he got everything cleaned up on Sunday morning, Stacey and Lara would be none the wiser. Maybe he could even show them that the place could tolerate a party or two. The wheels in his head started spinning full speed. “Wanna come by around 5 and help me go get the kegs? We can tap them nice and early and get a head start.” “Hell yeah!” Jeff high fived him and sped off to his next class. A wide grin spread across Ted’s face as he crossed the quad. At last, a rager worthy of his killer apartment. --- On their way out of town to the retreat, Lara read her text messages aloud to Stacey who drove down the long country road. “It’s on,” Lara said. “That’s three different people who all said they’re planning to party at our place tomorrow night. Jeff says they’re going to get kegs.” Stacey couldn’t contain her satisfaction. She smiled widely. “Worked perfectly. I knew that little brat wouldn’t be able to resist once we planted the seed. He’ll be in for a rude awakening when we show up bright and early on Sunday morning.” Lara giggled. “More like a RED awakening!” Stacey laughed too. “Oh man. His butt is gonna be soooo red when we get through with him.” The girls continued laughing as they drove and laid out the final steps of their plan to give Ted the spanking he so richly needed. --- The party was epic. Ted had procured three barrels of beer, and not a drop remained when the last of his friends left in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Completely obliterated, Ted stumbled to his room past piles of empty plastic cups and cigarette butts. He collapsed on his bed fully clothed, managing only to kick off his shoes before passing out. Only a few hours later, around 9 am, Stacey and Lara arrived home. They were appalled at the state of the place. Both had expected a mess after they set Ted up to host a party, but this was beyond what they had imagined. Shocked by the mess, Lara made a quick, angry charge toward Ted’s bedroom. Stacey caught her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Steady…” she said calmly. “Stick to the plan.” Lara looked her roommate in the eye. “Look at this place! It’s out of control!” “I know,” Stacey answered. “I didn’t think it would be this bad either. But just remember. Ted will clean it all up. And if we stick to our plan, he’ll be doing his cleaning with a very sore bottom.” Still holding Lara by the arm, Stacey slapped her bottom twice, sharply. That got Lara’s attention, and she took a deep breath. “Ok ok, you’re right,” she said, rubbing her butt and grumbling, “You don’t have to spank me!” Stacey smiled. She let go of Lara’s arm and tapped her butt again. “Just wanted to make sure I had your attention.” The girls wandered into the front room, passing Ted’s bedroom. The door was wide open, and they could see him sleeping still fully clothed, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Lara sniffed the air as they walked by. The whole house stunk of stale beer, but she thought she caught a whiff of something else emanating from Ted’s room. “Did he…?” she whispered. Stacey looked at her quizzically. “Don’t you smell that?” Lara asked. Stacey sniffed. She covered her mouth. There was a faint odor of urine that she had not smelled when they first walked in. And it certainly did seem to be coming from Ted’s room. Lara stifled a giggle. “Did he wet his bed?!” Stacey just smiled. “I guess we’ll find out…” The girls sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. With his door wide open, it was only a matter of time before the noise woke Ted from his drunken slumber. Sure enough, about five minutes later, they heard stirring in Ted’s room. As he came to, the room seemed to spin around him. The events of the night before came flooding back. The party. The mess. His roommates would be home soon and he needed to get cleaning. Despite his hangover, Ted rallied the strength to pop out of bed. It was only then that he realized he was still wearing his jeans from the night before… and they were soaking wet. “Ohh no no no no…” Ted said aloud, pulling at the wet blankets on top of his bed. He had been a chronic bed wetter as a kid, so it was a familiar feeling. But it had been a while since he’d had an accident. The cold feelings of shame washed over him. Then, another realization set in. He heard the TV on in the next room. Ted figured it likely just got left on the night before, but he wondered… could Stacey and Lara be home already…? He tiptoed to his doorway and peered around the corner. Sure enough, there sat his two roommates, facing away from him watching TV. He quickly slammed the door shut. “Shit!” he whispered. He assessed his predicament. He had gone back on his promise to not throw parties in their shared space. The house was a tremendous mess. He had thought he would have had time to clean it up, but his roommates were home earlier than expected. And now, he was trapped in his bedroom, panicking about how to explain himself. On top of it all, he wore pee soaked pants, having wet the bed like a small child. Just as he was thinking about trying to climb out the window, there was a loud knocking on the door. “Ted!” It was Lara. “Uhh…” his voice cracked, “just a minute!” Ted started unfastening his pants, looking around for something, anything, else to wear. But the door swung open. Lara stepped in with Stacey right behind her. With a hand on her hip, Lara eyed him up and down. Ted stood frozen, his jeans with an obvious, dark wet patch all the way down his front side. “Well that’s cute,” Lara said sarcastically, “looks like somebody forgot to go potty before he passed out last night. It stinks like pee pee in here.” There was a twinge of baby talk in her voice. Ted blushed. “And it stinks like stale beer and cigarettes out there!” Stacey practically yelled, pointing into the hallway. The girls stood staring at Ted. He was silent, blushing profusely and trying in vain to cover his wet crotch. Finally, after several moments, Lara spoke. She could feel anger rising inside her. She couldn’t wait to blister Ted’s naughty little backside. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” “I… I don’t… it wasn’t… I just thought…” Ted stammered. His head throbbed. His thoughts were clouded as he desperately tried to think of a way to talk himself out of this situation. “You got home early, I was gonna have everything cleaned up, I swear. I just…” Stacey cut him off. “You will absolutely clean everything up. You can start by cleaning yourself up. Strip those wet sheets before you ruin the mattress. Put everything in the wash, get some clean clothes and meet us in the living room. We have to talk about this.” Ted still just stood dumbstruck. He felt about two feet tall as he was ordered around by his roommate. He stared at the girls blankly, still trying to obscure the dark wet patch on his jeans. After a moment, Lara lost patience. “Now mister!!” she yelled at him. That had the desired effect, as Ted sprung into action pulling the blankets and sheets off his bed. With the mattress bare, Stacey stepped in to inspect it. “You’re lucky,” she said eyeing the bed. “Since you passed out on top of the blankets, it looks like your little accident didn’t soak through to the mattress.” Lara clicked her tongue. “Still unbelievable to me that we’re even having this conversation…” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Now get those sheets in the wash, put on some clean clothes and meet us in the living room.” The girls turned on their heels, closed the door and returned to their perches on the front room sofa. With his head still swimming, Ted robotically complied with the directive he’d been given. He stripped naked and felt a chill as the cool air hit his damp skin. Again, it was a familiar feeling that transported him back to his childhood. Not wanting to further piss off Stacey and Lara, Ted pulled on some sweat pants and a tee shirt (not bothering with underwear) and stumbled out of the room with the bundle of sheets and his pee soaked clothes. As he closed the lid on the washing machine, he took a deep breath. He thought about how stupid it was to break his agreement with the girls. Even there in the laundry room, he saw stacks of used plastic cups. He and his friends had trashed the place and now he had to face the consequences. Ted walked slowly back to the living room. Would they make him move out? Where would he go? He knew the girls had every right to kick him out, but he couldn’t afford an apartment by himself. He had to talk his way into staying. Slowly shuffling into the room, Ted found his roommates sitting on the couch. They had placed a wooden chair from the kitchen table in the middle of the room, facing the sofa. “Sit down,” Stacey said calmly, pointing to the chair. Her measured tone was unnerving. Somehow Ted wished they would just yell at him. He sat down, fidgeting slightly and staring at the floor. He felt like a small child about to be scolded. Stacey let him stew in silence for a few moments. She had the boy right where she wanted him and was enjoying watching him squirm. Finally, she spoke. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Is it just me or is there a growing trend in this community to actually make ourselves incontinent and dependent on diapers? The urge to do it to myself is almost irresistible. For a long time I thought I could fight it if I only knew where this desire came from. But now I have so many reasons why I want to be incontinent that any form of resistance would be futile in advance and would actually cause more damage than it would prevent. What are your reasons to actually become incontinent? For me it is options 1. 2. 4. 5 and 6. Option 7 is what is holding me back for now.. How about you?

“Your mother says you sometimes wet your bed at night if you are somewhere you don’t know.” Eric, 14 years old but not fully in puberty yet, was appalled and blushed all the way down his neck. It is true it had happened a few times, but that was years ago. Why his mother would have told his aunt – his father’s sister – about it, Eric couldn’t fathom. “Poor you – that must have been awful, being in a strange place and not knowing where the toilets were or who to ask,” his aunt continued, “and knowing your mother, she probably went on and on and on about it?” The latter was accompanied by a conspiratorial wink, and Eric suddenly felt much better about the strange conversation and nodded. It got stranger still. “She was always stupid about such things. I remember we were there when she forced you out of night-diapers. You were clearly so not ready and loved your nite-diddies as you called them. Why she couldn’t let you have them until you didn’t want or need them anymore was a mystery to us.” Eric nodded. Not that he could remember the episode, but he certainly didn’t disagree with his aunt’s assessment of his mother! Perhaps this summer at his uncle and aunt’s place out in the country was not going to be nearly as bad as he had feared. He had been sent there so that his parents could go on holiday alone. Eric didn’t know the actual reason, but he had certainly noticed the yelling and freezing atmosphere at home for the last half year or more. The true reason was actually a last-ditch attempt at saving the marriage after Eric’s mother had fucked around with a colleague in January while his father was on a business trip. So here he was – nearly 2000 miles away in rural Wyoming. To his chagrin, he’d flow as an unaccompanied minor – he felt that he was plenty old enough to handle it himself, but truth be told the stewards and stewardesses had been sweet to him, and he had to admit that having someone help him changing flights in Chicago and Denver was nice. And his aunt and girl cousin – a sweet little girl of 3 called Cathy – had been there to collect him in Sheridan County Airport. His uncle and aunt had a place almost on the Montana border, so it was a long drive back and his young cousin had fallen asleep almost immediately. On arrival at the homestead – it looked like a very nice place on first impressions – he helped his aunt carrying a lot of shopping in: “We don’t come to town very often; we have most things delivered, but I got Cathy some new clothes today now that we were in there to pick you up anyway,” his aunt explained. Eric nodded. Cathy was still asleep. Inside the house, Eric was shown his room. “The bathroom is across the corridor, second door” his aunt said, and Eric rushed to use the facilities. He largely made it, but his bladder had been aching for the last hour of the drive, and his briefs and jeans got a little moist. Perhaps that was why his aunt had mentioned the bed-wetting? At her urging, he changed into “something fresh”, and the moisture was not mentioned – at least not directly. “Well, I can promise you a couple of things,” his aunt said – ruffling his curly hair – “I’ve put a rubber backed protector on the mattress so it will come to no harm – and no-one will yell at you for wetting the bed.” Again, Eric could only nod. He thought there should have been an “if” somewhere; it sounded like auntie more or less expected him to have accidents at night. __________ Just then Cathy woke up and the next little while was spent with auntie changing her soaked nappy, nursing her – something Eric couldn’t keep his eyes from, and the setting her down to play while the shopping was put away. Next they cooked dinner – with Eric helping as much as he could – while they talked about all sorts of things. “Your uncle won’t be back until late September”, his aunt explained “– he is deployed in the Middle East somewhere, but he does get to Skype home once or twice a week”. Eric nodded. “So I’m happy to have a strong young man around to help,” his aunt added and again ruffled Eric’s hair. Eric nodded – he liked his uncle and missed him, but understood he was serving to keep everyone safe. Eric’s uncle – his father’s oldest and best friend, had opted to serve his country while Eric’s much more affluent father has gone straight to college and then into the family business. Against much opposition from his grandparents, his father’s little sister had declared her intention to marry her older brother’s friend and to their horror also enlisted on completion of her psychology degree. When they had both received commissions as officers, the grandparents had relented and the two married. They were in different branches of the armed forces, and neither of them were at liberty to discuss exactly what they were doing, much less where, but the marriage was a happy one and 4 years ago they had decided it was time to start a family, so Eric’s aunt requested and received an honorable discharge when her pregnancy with Cathy had been confirmed. Meanwhile Eric’s father had much earlier married a much more suitable spouse (at least according to the grandparents) and produced an heir. “Suitable” meant the same affluent circles; Eric’s mother was a bit of a wild girl, and the marriage was only, but hastily, arranged because she was pregnant. She did marry the man that was Eric’s biological father, but there were honestly several other potential candidates for that role and the bit about forsaking all others had never loomed large in her lifestyle. Eric knew none of that. But he was aware that his aunt didn’t like his mother much, and truth be told neither did he. __________ With the very long nap in the car, Cathy was not ready to be put to bed until an hour later than normal – at which point Eric was visibly flagging after the long journey; the two hours’ time difference certainly played a role too. In consequence he was almost asleep on the sofa when his aunt returned from having nursed Cathy to sleep. “Eric, sweetheart, time for bed,”, she cooed while gently prodding him awake. A “huh” indicated that he was mostly awake, but taking initiative was beyond him. Without protest, Eric let himself be led back towards his room, but they stopped on the way in the bathroom to clean his teeth which he docilely let his aunt do for him. The toilet was not used; rather, he was urged to drink several large glasses of water which he did without question. When they got to the bedroom, his aunt proceeded to undress the almost comatose boy, then had him stretch out on the bed while she rubbed perfumed baby cream all over his crotch and sprinkled him liberally whit pleasantly scented baby powder. “I was thinking,” his aunt said in a quiet loving tone of voice, “that when I mentioned that your mattress is protected and I won’t scold you when the rest gets wet, I meant it, but I was thinking that perhaps you should be in diapers at night – at least for the first couple of nights until we see how it goes, huh?” Eric didn’t respond, but the notion intrigued him. “There is no-one here but you and me and Cathy – no-one will ever know,” she urged. “You want to feel safe. You want to be able to pee without having to find a bathroom.” “You want to have the thick warm diaper on,” she intoned while putting said diaper on him. Eric never stopped to wonder why she had diapers in his size – he had an overwhelming feeling of contentment when it was attached firmly. She tucked him in, kissed his forehead and switched off the light. In moments he was asleep. __________ Next morning Eric awoke from his aunt opening the curtains to a beautiful sunny summer’s day. “Wake up sweetheart – time for breakfast”. Eric stretched and felt the heavy diaper around his groin. The bed was dry – just – but he would obviously have been soaked if he hadn’t been diapered. His aunt echoed that thought: “Just as well you were diapered; you clearly needed that.” Blushingly Eric agreed. “You can have your night diapers back on while you are here with us,” his aunt added. “No-one will know.” There was a small wash basin on his bedside table with steaming hot water. Quickly and methodically his aunt removed the diaper, then washed and dried him and handed him a pair of underwear and his tracksuit pants. Putting ordinary clothes on, Eric felt a fleeting regret of the loss of sense of security. The morning was spent lounging around, playing with Cathy and simply just being. He was offered drinks almost constantly and urged to “keep in fluids” in the warm summer weather. Around midday, Cathy was nursed to sleep – a process Eric found fascinating – and his aunt suggested that Eric relax in front of the television. Agreeing, Eric tried to follow the program but started nodding off. He woke with a start – he’d been dreaming about diapers, and he realized he had started to pee. The underwear and thick tracksuit material had absorbed the urine – just – but just a few moments more, and the sofa would have been flooded. “Auntie,” he cried out and moments later she appeared from her office. “I, I, wet my pants,” Eric cried. “Poor darling,” his aunt cooed. “Did you fall asleep without a diddy on?” Eric nodded, still sobbing. “Don’t worry sweetheart; auntie will take care of you”. She led him to his bathroom, undressed him, lifted him up into the tub and rinsed him off with the shower head. Meanwhile she was constantly cooing sweet little nothings to him, hugging him, and kissing him. She was a trained military psychologist and an expert in hypnotherapy – and Eric in his current state was a perfect candidate for hypnotic suggestions. “You should be in diapers all the time,” she said. “You need to be diapered – you don’t want to be big; you need to be allowed to be a little boy again.” She repeated that again and again. She lifted him up, dried him and proceeded with cream, powder, and a diaper. At no stage did Eric question, much less protest. He was led back to the living room and plunked on the sofa with his aunt sitting down next to him. Nor did he ever stop wondering what was going on when she opened her shirt, unlatched her nursing bra and moved Eric mouth to her large, distended nipple. Eric had never been breast fed, but some things come naturally and in moments he was gulping down large mouthfuls of milk first form one breast and then the other. “You are auntie’s baby boy now,” she cooed in her ear. “And you have a big thirsty diaper on,” she added “- so you can pee, pee, pee.” __________ He did. At all times, just letting auntie know when he needed a change. By the time his parents were back from their – unsuccessful – holiday, he was completely incontinent. His mother was angling for custody to get as much money as possible through support payments, but quickly decided that a 14-year-old in diapers was too much work and signed parental rights over to his father – who in turn arranged for his sister and brother-in-law to care for the boy. Eric was homeschooled and did very well. Puberty never happened – the “vitamins” his aunt gave him saw to that.

Thanks to Personalias's discord for helping come up with the weird prompt and putting up with the early version. Blue Day by Operational Systems Her hair was perfect, as always. Blonde, with just a touch of auburn in the streaks, with a bit of sparkling glitter provided a slight catch of the light as she lay on her pink pillow. She had woken up two hours ago to start preparation for her show, which included combing and curling her hair, after applying no less than four conditioners, shampoos, clarifiers, and cleansers. She had even set up the room lighting to make it appear she was receiving the first glints of natural morning light through her window. The windows had been covered in black cloth and white studio lights were the sole source of illumination. “Hello friends! I’m feeling awfully blue today. What do you think? Do you think it’ll be a blue day?” Matilda was an influencer. She made her money, well to be honest her lifestyle was mostly supported by her parents, but in her mind, she earned her living by knowing how to be both important and online. Across the country tweens would load up her prompt-a-gram account, see a new video where she would showcase an overpriced piece of plastic or carcinogenic laden beauty product, and then go and click her link to buy one of their own. Her personal page was garnished with ads extolling services letting you “buy now and pay later” over just four to six easy payments. She found it adorable that the seven-foot ladies, many in their thirties and forties, would be taken in by the glamor and lifestyle of an Amazon like her. These tweeners would blow through entire paychecks on a water bottle she endorsed or purse they “had” to have. Matilda was not just an online presence, she knew how to work with her fans in person too. She would go to the mall and look down at the tweener gals, “Oh, you have such lovely shoes? Where did you see those?” “Oh my god, that dog carrier is adorable, who do you follow on prompt-a-gram?” - The tweeners always gushed at being noticed by a woman half their age and three feet taller – she was the real adult they all wanted to be one day. Matilda’s blue cover and blue pajamas and blue headband with matching blue wrist band for her blue case on her Melon phone caused the live chat to erupt: “OH MY GOD BLUE IT’S THE BLUE DAY.” “IT”S LIKE HAPPENING” “YOU GO GIRL>” Matilda smiled at that. Tweeners had a nasty habit of typing the first thoughts that entered their heads, rather than carefully considering how it might be perceived, and paying delicate attention to their words. They lacked both the caution of littles and the intelligence of bigs. That was fine, their money was just as good as anyone else’s. Blue, in this case, referred to a color of the envelope mailed to citizens by the Atlantica Adoption Service. Atlantica prided itself as a technocratic advanced and liberal people. In fact, Atlantica abolished forced adoptions five years ago. No longer would a judge or a doctor examine the small ones and declare “you’re clearly unable to perform as an adult in our society.” There were no more “death sentences,” and most of all no more fake maturosis diagnosis by psychologists who can be bribed, or corrupted. Atlantica had decided on a new route, a progressive forward looking one. Technology would be the liberator of the littles. That meant of course, every movement was tracked by a machine. Every purchase, every website, every place driven, and all phone calls were monitored. Everyone was continuously recorded by camera and all their activities logged into the great computer. The great machine assigned each person in the country a maturity score. If your maturity score fell too low, you would receive a letter informing you were being adopted, and a corresponding Amazon would receive their own blue letter, indicating they would receive their new child. Each little would be paired with whom the machine determined would best match their personalities and needs. No more corruption, no more errors, nothing needed to be faked. Even the littles had to admit it was fair, in its own twisted way. The Amazons loved the system. No longer did one have to poison a coffee cup or wait around the airport for some lonely traveler to make a mistake. No more fighting over “I saw him poop his pants first.” Instead, one could just go about their lives and provided they were a model citizen, a new baby would inevitably be dropped off at their doorstep. The littles were not fans. On the one hand they did not have to worry about pooping themselves in public and getting snatched, which was always a plus. Instead, their cruel fate would be told to them by the machine. “We’re sorry, small one, you made a bad stock pick”. Maybe they drove too fast in their car, watched one too many videos on us-box, or stayed up too late playing video games. The machine saw all and when one line crossed another, the little was deemed to have failed to live up to society’s standards. He or she would then get a letter the next day telling them he or she was no longer an adult, and to prepare for adoption agents to come shortly. Matilda knew today was the day she was getting an envelope. She had been preparing her audience for weeks since she signed up for the program. There was one quick jump cut from her bed (and of course an entirely new outfit, a simple blue jean jacket you can buy on the A-to-Z site for $99.99, which is perfect for this time of year) and she was at her mailbox. She held the phone out, slowly going through the new mail. The natural light and outdoor sounds a sharp contrast to the perfectly curated bedroom she escaped from. “Hmm, Coupons. Junk Mail. Nope thought it’d be here.” Her face turned to an overly orchestrated frown, her perfect blonde hair falling in front of her eyes. “OH NO GIRL” “BETTER LUCK TOMORWWO?” “IT’S SO UNFAIR YOU DESERVE A BABY” “But! What’s this?” Matilda’s surprise could not be more fake than a little opening a Saturnalia present (Is it a baby toy? Yes it is!). She knew what was in the mailbox because she had already checked it before she started filming this morning. “LIKE! OH MY GOD!” Matilda screamed throwing the rest of the letters. Her phone shook violently as her 11-foot body jumped up and down. There was only a wave of blue and a blur of her outfit to the camera. Her entire chat exploded, and links to the live stream poured onto all social media platforms. For a moment, Matilda was the third most popular influencer on prompt-a-gram. In an hour, her video would be pushed down by the lunch-flu-encers, but for fifteen minutes she may as well have been the most important person in the world. Even as she danced in excitement, her large Amazonian mind was going through the possibilities to exploit this the best. She decided on hashtag “Is it a boy?”. Obviously, she wanted a girl, but today was a blue day, and she might as well go with the theme. Matilda already knew which companies she was going to be reaching out to for free products to display for her new baby. Transitions and Gadzooks! Of course, new baby needed toys. She was thinking of more clothing for herself. She’d need a brand new outfit. Her tweeners fans were not allowed to adopt, but this was an opportunity to branch out, and to level up her content. She was now going to enter the grown-up world of mom-fluencers. This was where the real money was. If she succeeded, she might not need to have her parents pay for the house or her car. There was another jump cut, she was now in a white dress with spaghetti straps on the shoulders. Her hair had been recombed after being in the wind outside, and now it gave a more sophisticated look. Still, it was a poor attempt to look older than her 26 years. She held up the blue envelope in the house to the camera. The front had been manually stamped with “Important: Notice of Adoption” in bright red letters. “This is it. This is the moment I get my new baby. Did we decide chat? Is it a boy or a girl? Hashtag is it a boy, trending now.” She slowly ripped open the top of the envelope and took out the thick papers. The top of one had an official seal. She began to read. “Dear Matilda Youngblood, this is an urgent letter to inform you of an immediate status update with regard your adoption.” She went high pitched, “This is perfect! This is so official sounding and everything. Gals and fans! I’m having a baby. I’m getting a baby!” she spoke to the camera, “this next part is even better.” “Under the Artificial Intelligence and Adoption Act, select individuals whose maturity is below their official age can be deemed unfit for adult life, and need to be placed in the immediate protective care of a loving family. The selection of this is determined by blah blah blah and blah blah blah and monitoring software,” her voice became serious at the conclusion. “It is our intention to inform you that you have now been chosen for adoption.” “Can you believe this? The computer chose me to adopt a baby. I’m going to be a mommy.” Her reading continued, “While there remains some possibility of review, you must respond to this letter no later than Ventôse 11th, for manual consideration of the calculations and if there any factors you wish to add that may mitigate this decision.” “Woah, postman delivered this a bit late chat. That was yesterday, isn’t that, right? Happy Franciade, for those who celebrate the leap year! Today is our blue day! Let’s see if the letter says if it will be a boy or girl. Maybe they want that to be a surprise for when the baby meets his new mommy?” “Failure to respond will be taken as acceptance of decree of adoption, and an agent of the State will visit you on the 12th.” “That’s TODAY! Chat that’s today!” She started to jump up and down, her hair coming undone from the mom-bun she had tried to put it in. Her chat could not contain themselves, “YAASSS QUEEN NEW MOMMY NEW BABY HOW IS ABABBY COMING TODAY” She finished off the rest of the letter, “The Atlantican government has already reached out to a warm and loving couple who are eager to accept the burden of becoming your new parents and raise you in a manner appropriate for your level of development. Your new life will be considerably different from your old…” She stopped reading aloud. She looked at the camera, “I uh, I think there’s a mistake here, I’m guessing they mailed me the wrong letter. But don’t worry I’ll get this all sorted out. I’m sure they meant to mail the new mommy letter to me instead, I will be right back chat once the new baby is here.” She reached over and turned off the camera. She examined the paper up and down for a phone number or a website and found nothing. Perhaps if a little had received the letter, he would have immediately bolted from the house, a desperate attempt to escape fate by fleeing society. Instead, Matilda was paralyzed to action. To her, nothing made sense. Fifteen minutes later there was a knock at the door. She tried to explain to the two men there was a mistake. “It’s obvious something is wrong, I’m not a baby. I can’t be adopted. I can go to the bathroom; I have a job.” It was not the first time today the adoption agents had heard this, only the other person who said the same thing had been 65 inches tall. They found that her house was a mess of pink and fluff between the cameras and lights. Each room looked like a cross between an eight-year old’s ideal bedroom and a movie studio. The adoption agent stared at her loose-fitting outfit that was aimed at impressing twelve-year-olds before carefully responding to her. He knew how to handle those with weaker minds. “I do not disagree,” he started, “There is clearly a mix up in the machine, but that’s not something we can fix. We will need a few days to put in a request to reevaluate. Just go along with this for now, it’s your best option. It’s the only way to show you’re a responsible citizen and an adult. That will help boost your score when we rerun the calculations.” The other agent sighed, playing off the story, “Your new ‘adoptive parents’ do not want a baby your size either, this is just as unfair to them. I’m sure they’ll help with clearing this up, but we need to get your processed first, so we can work to get you out of the system.” The two giants gently guided Matilda to the back of the adoption van. The sky-blue vehicle was adorned with colorful text indicating its official purpose in the Adoption Services. The agents had to take the children’s seats out so she could fit in. What surprised her was that the drive to her new parents was over an hour and outside the city. Staring out the window she found grassy fields and fences protecting herds of cattle. The longer they traveled, the fewer cars there were on the road. The distance between buildings and houses expanded, with empty farmland between them. Eventually the van slowed, there was nothing to be seen here except a break in the wooden fence that was bisected by a dirt road. The van turned along the bare path and slowly marched another ten minutes to a distant white farmhouse. It looked old in style, possibly a century or two in age. The lighting from the windows was a soft amber and protected by a covered white shade that matched the sharp new white paint on the wooden house. It was about three Matilda’s tall. The girl looked at her phone as the van pulled into the driveway and saw just the exclamation point above her internet connection, she turned it off to conserve battery, as the agents opened the van door and guided her to the front house. One agent knocked at the screen door and the three waited a minute in silence. The door opened to a dark interior slowly at first, and then quickly. Matilda stared into the empty living room, unsure what was going on. The screen door seemed to open of its own accord, and the left agent reached out to hold it open. The two agents stepped back slightly, and Matilda saw her new parents. They were old. The man had thin graying white hair that looked wet but well combed. He wore faded blue jeans with a tucked in red polo shirt. He had put in an attempt to look good, and with his worn face protected by large round glasses, the rustic appearance had a warm charm. The woman had put on clothing appropriate for church on Sunday, a long green dress with a pearl white necklace. Her hair was well maintained, and the dye job was hardly noticeable to Matilda from the other side of the deck. The two had received a similar blue envelope and had brought it to the door. It let them know that today would be the day they would receive their new boy or girl. Their attempts to impress their new daughter had failed, not just because of their lack of sophistication or fashion, but because the two were half the woman’s height. “Oh, she’s certainly a big one. Well, ain’t that a blessing. Come in, come in, you’ll get a cold out there,” the old woman said waving for Matilda to enter. Unsure of what to do, the tall woman stepped into the portal. She needed to duck her head slightly in the foyer to fit in the farm house entrance. “I was hoping for a boy,” the man spoke feigning disappointed, but then his mood instantly turned, “But a baby girl is just perfect too.” Matilda finally figured it out, “I think I see where the computer crossed a wire on this. I’m supposed to adopt a little, not be adopted by a little.” “Shucks, if that helps you feel better about it. I’m your new adopted daddy, and this is your new adopted mommy,” the small man answered. The man and the lady gave a small laugh at that. Despite her protests, the two agents were satisfied and left the giant to her fate. “I know there’s some mistake here,” Matilda reasoned, “See, I was going to adopt a little, and the computer seems to have flipped things around. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you guys. I’ll try not to be a burden while this gets sorted out.” Finally, the older couple dropped their act, letting their shoulders and faces take a more serious look. The man smiled and spoke first, “It’s okay, we understand. We’re just having a bit of a laugh with it. Yes, we would like to adopt a child, and we were excited we had been chosen by the computer, but this isn’t what we expected either. You’re a big girl, and we wanted a little one, little for us rather. The agency told us of the mix up by phone. We’ll get this all sorted out in just a few days.” “Oh, thank goodness, so um, can I go back to my home or…” The old women gave her answer, “No, we don’t have a car that can take you at this time, but day after tomorrow my nephew’s truck will be available and we can get you back to town. You’ll be fine staying here a couple nights, right?” It was not what she wanted to do, but she did not see much alternative. She certainly was not going to walk all the way back to the city. She was not even sure which direction she had to go; she had not paid any attention during the ride out. She had spent most of the last hour on her phone, slowly losing connection to the world as she got further from the city. First video, and then pictures, and finally text, until now, out in the wilderness, there was nothing. She was not even sure she could call someone, the signal was too weak. Matilda found a couch and sat down, her body easily taking up a cushion and a half like her own personal recliner. “You guys got the internet out here? Something from which I can stream? I think this whole experience would be a kick for my followers.” Matilda was always looking for a way to turn even the slightest setback into an opportunity for people to glorify and praise her – and to make money. The man came over to a recliner and sat down, staring up at the new daughter, “Oh, no, we have an old PC in the back we get e-mails on, but that’s just dial up. Dang thing don’t work half the time.” “No streaming, so what do you guys do for fun?” The old couple looked at each other, before the woman answered, “Watch television. We used to get a DVD in the mail each month, but that service is shutting down. We do still have a good collection of shows though. Haven’t even watched half of them. If there’s something you’d like, we’d be happy to put it on.” Matilda looked up at the television council across from her. It was the one thing Amazonian sized in the building. It would have been big in her old room. It mirrored the living room back at her, distorting her image in the black reflection. Entranced, she moved closer to the TV and looked above it, carefully reading off titles. Then she saw it. It was still wrapped in plastic. A dark plan formed in her mind. Perhaps she could still walk away from this as a winner. She pulled the DVD down and held it up to the others, reading the title. “Naomi and Oliver, the 3D edition. Complete first season.” She shook the case, there was a small pair of white paper thin glasses sized for an Amazon’s face, carefully taped within the package to the plastic case. The man nodded, “Oh that, not sure why we got it, maybe in case we hosted Sharon’s grandkids... I’ve heard good things though.” Matilda smiled, if these two were not already old enough for diapers, they would soon be wearing them, “Please, I think you’d guys like it. I know it looks like a cartoon but it’s for older people too. Plus I can wear the three dee glasses too, it’ll be a new experience for me.” The man and the woman looked at each other, and then came over and setup the television. The three moved to the couch, Matilda was in the center, her oversized arms came down around her new family, and her face adorned with the ridiculous glasses. “Come on Oliver, are you ready to go on an adventure?” Watching the DVD with the glasses hurt her eyes. The protective shades even gave the show a strange tint of blue, blurring the cartoon image at the edges. She didn't care though, the story was refreshing. Matilda could see herself as Naomi, traveling the globe with her best friend Oliver. The two trying to corrupt the bigs into pooping their pants. Of course, the bigs never fell for it, they were too smart for it, and in the end the two littles always got punished for their silly games. No matter how many times they failed, the two littles would try again and again tomorrow. Matty looked up at her daddy as he pulled hard on the six-inch-thick tapes, “It’s tight daddy, thank you.” The crib she lay in came up to his chest, when he had unfolded the white diaper to put on her, it had bounced slightly on the floor. The old man happily returned, “You’re such a big girl for me Matty, you’re big enough to hold all the love we’ll ever need. We were sad before you came, and now that we’re finally together, you bring sunshine and happiness to us every day.” Matty looked at her new garment. It did not match her pink pajamas; it was a simple white and had a long yellow stripe on the front, which clashed with her pink nighty top. Her fashion sense tingled, and she pointed to it, “What’s this do?” She had never paid much attention to these garments; the stripe served no decorative purpose. “Oh, that’s for grownups. When it changes color it’s time to get a new diaper on you. Now, no more questions. It’s time for you to get to bed. I have an early day tomorrow, and you have a long day as well.” That got her to nod and shift her head down on the flat mattress. Today had been good, she had helped mommy perfect her new cookie recipe for the fair in the kitchen, and then a new season of Naomi and Oliver came in the mail, and she got to watch two whole episodes before dinner. Today had been a good day, because today was a blue day. Tomorrow when she saw the stripe had changed on her diaper, she would know tomorrow was going to be a blue day as well. From now on, every day is going to be a blue day.

The original story is in french. It's just a google translation but hope you like it. First chapter: welcome to maternarchy “What is this horror? » Loni didn't expect much, but calling his favorite image from her little secret collection a "horror" still made his heart ache. Dani was his childhood friend. Well... early childhood. Being only twenty years old, they could not yet quite claim the title of "big boys". They were both boarders at the Nadal 2 mixed university and had, of course, managed to be in the same room. There was only one large bed on which they were lying face down, eyes focused on the screen of a multitasker. They were already washed and in their pajamas, with a thick night diaper around their buttocks. Dani was a model boy: energetic, perky, a little crazy, kind to his classmates and, most of the time, docile with women. He was still a boy who didn't mind when he had the opportunity to do forbidden things without getting caught. Loni was the brain. He had just proven it again by managing to unlock the child lock on his multitask. He had promised Dani to show him images of naked women but, in exchange, he first wanted to show his other forbidden images that fascinated him, starting with an old photo from the very beginning of the digital age of a cross species between a human and a gorilla. “This, my dear and ignorant friend, is a boy of the twenty-first century, or, to put it as it was then, a MAN. _ Well, he’s super ugly. _He was six feet tall. You realize ? We can't even get to his nipples. One hundred and thirteen pounds all muscle! See all those hairs on his chin that look like a second head of hair? It was called a beard and every boy over sixteen had it. Except that many shaved it to highlight their big square jaw. They also had hair all over their bodies but again, some shaved it off to show the muscles underneath. His job was a sport that was half a ball game and half a fighting game. _A sport is not a job. _ At the time yes, when you were really good. And having a sport for a job meant you could train all day. By just training, they were at least as strong as a modern woman who doesn't workout at all. _ Yeah, really useful... that doesn't make up for being ugly enough to scare a louse. _ For you they are ugly, but at the time the ladies were crazy about them! They even sold calendars with naked photos of them. -Speaking of photos and nudes, will you show me these naked women? » Loni sighed inwardly. He had been wrong to think that his friend could understand his interest, when he wasn't even sure he understood it himself. Dani didn't care what made the ladies of the past turn their heads. He only thought about those of today. It was to please them that he still wore full diapers when the training pants would have been enough for him. To please them too, he wore colorful clothes with cute patterns, exaggerated his emotions, did stupid things on purpose, and often asked for help with things he could very well have done himself. Physically, he was average. In the high average perhaps, but it was missing two or three small details to be a real canon. First of all, he was a little too tall, measuring almost six feet. His hands and feet were a little too big. He had a little hair under his arms and around his willy, as well as a little fuzz on his cheeks that his mother still forbade him to shave. He was one of those people who didn't have to worry too much, who would inevitably find a nice mother-wife to take care of them, but who couldn't allow himself to have too many weird ideas or interests. Looking at images of naked ladies, spying on boarding school girls in the shower, having mashed potatoes fights in the canteen or playing ball in the hallway, it was forbidden but it was what was expected of a normal boy. It was even a lot less weird than never disobeying at all. This reassured the girls that we were a boy like any other who wouldn't pose any problems other than those we expected. Loni was different. He was one of the three cutest boys in the class. The girls would have been crazy about him even if he had hyper-maturity syndrome. Very early on, perhaps at twelve years old, Loni had understood that among boys, there were the very cute ones and the others. The really cute ones were the ones whose teacher or boysitters checked their diaper three or four times a day “just to be sure.” Those who were helped to wash and dress themselves even when they knew how to do it on their own and asked nothing. For the same mischief, the other boys had lines to copy or were deprived of recess. For the very cute ones, it was a little spanking. Always the little spanking and always on the bare bottom to get a good eyeful. Loni couldn't even remember the last time he was punished with anything else than a mild bare bottom spanking. “Boys, it’s bedtime! » crooned a voice behind the bedroom door. It was Delphine, a student from their year who, in the evening, watched over boys in her class, eight in all, in exchange for a free room. She knocked on the door and politely waited for permission to enter before opening it. There was no doubt that if the response had waited too long, she would have gone in anyway, suspecting that the boys were doing something forbidden. Fortunately, through practice, Loni only needed a handful of seconds to switch the screen of his machine to a completely innocent animated series. At six feet tall, Delphine had a hard time staying in a boys' room where she had to lower her head to avoid bumping into it. She was rather pretty with her slim figure, her harmonious face neither too round nor too dry, her long, well-kept black hair and her discreet smile, haughty but with a friendly touch. A smile that said: 'I'm the adult, I'm in charge and I wouldn't hesitate to put you back in your place if you make me, but I'd still prefer everything to go smoothly . » Honestly, she wasn't the worst supervisor they'd ever had. Loni even suspected her friend of having a little crush on her. “Here we go, we turn off the screens and get under the sheets. Teeth done? Are the comforters here? GOOD ! Let's see if your little behinds are still dry! » Loni grumbled under her breath: they had put them on the potty and diapered them for the night half an hour ago. How could they have gotten wet in such a short time? It was probably just an excuse to grope them again, especially him. Like every night, she pulled his pajama bottoms just a little lower and trailed her hand a little longer than necessary for a simple check. Dani, for his part, smiled with all his teeth, always happy that a girl takes care of him, especially when she was pleasant to look at. Finally, she tucked them in carefully and gave each of them a big kiss on the forehead.

Seventy-Two Step 1.5: Talk to Mommy The next step on my return to adulthood was actually potty training. But it felt like there was actually a step that needed to happen before that–one that I probably should’ve started with in the first place.kylie I needed to talk to Mommy. I needed to tell her about what I wanted. But this was proving to be easier said than done. I had tried, on multiple occasions in the day or two that followed Mommy’s brief business trip to Atlanta, to start the conversation with her, but I just couldn’t commit. I’d stare at her with my mouth hanging open. Or I’d panic and say something off-topic, putting us on another tangent that I couldn’t steer back towards what I originally wanted to say. “We haven’t talked much about Lyndie’s little ‘field trip’ with you the other night while I was away,” Mommy said as she changed my diaper. My feet were pointed towards the ceiling as her practiced hands wiped away my latest stinky mess. “Did you have a good time?” “Uh, yeth,” I said through my pacifier. “You can take that thing out of your mouth, silly,” she said. “I understand you went to that pizza place near where you used to live. Quite the adventure for a little boy.” I opened my mouth wide, letting the pacifier roll out from my lips and onto the changing table next to my head. “It was good,” I said. “I missed, uh…” I wasn’t sure how to finish that thought. What was it that I had missed? Not the specific people–both Ava and Lyndie had been over to the house recently. “You missed pretending to be an adult?” Mommy asked. “Y-yeah. I think that’s it.” This felt like a good opportunity to have the conversation I had been struggling with having. “Well I’m proud of you,” she said. “R-really?” Maybe this would be a pretty easy conversation. She’d do most of the work for me–telling me that she was proud of me for going out and hanging out with my friends without her. “Lyndie said that you managed to not humiliate yourself in front of everyone.” “Oh…” “I don’t want to say that I was rooting for you to have some nasty blowout in your pants in front of Ava’s friend. But…I do find the thought of that a little…titillating.” I sighed. Truthfully? I did too. But that was for neither here nor there. “Can I ask you something, Mommy?” “Yes, pumpkin?” “Uhm…do you think you’d be upset if I did things like that more often?” She chuckled a little, reaching to grab yet another wipe. “Do you think that’d upset me?” “No.” “You’re free to go out and be a big boy if you want to.” I could see it on her face–she had a good idea of the direction this conversation was going. It was hard to pin down what her expression was broadcasting. A little bit of sadness, maybe. A little bit of pride. “I’ve been thinking…” She sighed. “Oh? And what have you been thinking about?” “I think that I might be ready to, uhm, start…being an adult again?” Was that a tear welling in her eye? She blinked, and it was gone. “Of course, sweetpea. That was always the idea, right? Whenever you were ready.” “I mean…I don’t want to, like, flip a switch and suddenly be a big boy again.” I felt my cheeks warm at my mention of ‘big boy.’ “At whatever pace you want,” she said. “Like…I probably need diapers for a little while yet.” “Well, sure,” she cooed. “You made this little disaster while taking a nap.” “I don’t know where to start,” I shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. I just…I feel like I’ve been hiding for too long.” “What have you been hiding from?” she asked. The dirty diapers, and the wipes used to clean up after it, were bundled up and tossed into the diaper pail. It was a perfect toss, the diaper disappearing into the bin. She had lots of practice. “Nothing in particular, I don’t think.” “Your mother?” “Oh…yeah. Maybe a little. But, also, maybe I’ve just been hiding from growing up.” She laughed, giving my legs a little shake. “Look at you. You’re so tense. Was this that hard of a thing for you to say to me?” “A little.” “Why?” It probably wasn’t actually a mystery to her–she just wanted to hear me explain it, in my own words, rather than assuming. It was one of the many, many, things I loved about her. “I just…well…” I thought of Hillary again. She hadn’t actually done anything wrong, I didn’t think. She just…grew up. Moved on. Surely, Mommy had known that day would come–just as she knew the day would come for me. “If I left, eventually, it’d mean that you’d be alone. And…I hate thinking about that.” She took a deep breath, laughing from her nose as she exhaled slowly, her eyes closed and head shaking. “You’re just the sweetest boy.” A fresh diaper was unfurled and slid beneath me. Next came the liberal layer of baby powder. “I’ve been happy to have you in my life,” she continued. “I’d have been happy to just have you as my assistant at the office, but it’s been a joy to have you in my home–our home–for the last few months. But we both knew this couldn’t last forever. So, whatever it is you need to do, I’ll help you achieve that.” “But…” “And don’t worry about me, Baby,” she smiled. “I’ll be fine.” Her calm and collected responses probably didn’t do what she wanted them to. She likely wanted to encourage me and assure me that moving on was the best decision. Instead, her compassion was just reminding me that I was probably never going to meet anyone else like her. Maybe I’ll just stay here forever. “What will you do if I leave?” I asked. “Will you have another assistant? You, uh, don’t have one at your new company, right?” “I have Amber working at the front desk right now,” she said. “But she’s a competent young woman. I think I’d trust her taking on more duties as my assistant.” “Uh, do you think that…she’d be an assistant like…me?” Mommy laughed. “You know, I think she might go for it if I proposed it to her. I see a little glimmer in her eyes when she sees Neve taking Risa into her office for a feeding. But, I think I might be taking a break from changing diapers for a while.” “Oh?” She smiled and shrugged. “I suppose that sounds like I have another idea of what I’d want to do with myself, but I haven’t figured that out yet. And that thrills me.” It felt good to hear her say that. And though I didn’t think this was the case, it almost sounded like I was doing her a favor by moving on. Soon after, my feet landed back on the ground again as I hopped down from the changing table–a fresh diaper between my thighs and my onesie snapped shut over it. As was tradition, she gave my padded bottom a good pat. “What do you need from me?” Mommy asked. “How can I help you do the things you want to do?” I took a trip down the mental checklist: Call my mother. Call Megan. Potty training. Deal with chastity? Figure out school. Figure out a job. Figure out living on my own. I thought that might be the order, but maybe it didn’t matter–so long as all those things were figured out eventually. “Well…maybe there are two things you can help me with.” “Okay. Shoot.” “So, for one, I want to have a…job.” “Ah,” Mommy said. “You’re right. I can definitely help you with that.” “Like…a real job,” I said, a little nervous that she’d take offense to my request. “I want to learn how to do things. I want experience. I want to help do work.” She laughed. “I don’t know what the fun in that is–but that’s still something I can provide for you. When you’re ready, you can come to the office with me.” “Th-thank you, Mommy.” “And the other thing?” she asked. “You said there were two things I could help you with?” “Well…I should probably be a little less dependent on diapers, right?” “Potty training, huh?” “Just a word of warning: my mother claims that it was hard to potty train me the first time.” “Should I give her a call? Maybe she can give me some pointers.” It didn’t matter if she was joking or not–the very thought of Mommy and my mother having a conversation together was still the most terrifying thing I could think of. Especially now that my mother might have had a little insight into my infantile life. “If she figured it out, I’m sure you can too,” I said. “Well one of us needs to call your mother,” she replied. Touché. “Th-that’s actually on the list,” I said. I had already talked Mommy’s ear off about the humiliation I felt when my mother was the accidental recipient of photos intended for Mommy–many times. “Good,” she said. “She probably misses you.” She stopped short of just commanding me to call. I’d have done it if she just told me to–but we both knew it’d be better if I handled it when I was ready. “Thank you, Mommy,” I said. I wasn’t thanking her for anything specific–it was just a general note of appreciation for everything. “Of course, Baby. Now then. I’ve got a few emails and calls I need to catch up on downstairs. You think this diaper might last a while?” I nodded. “I think so.” “Good boy. I’ll be in my office if you need me. And Clark?” “Yes, Mommy?” “Your phone is where you left it, in the drawer in the kitchen. You might need to charge it. That is, if you need it.” Soon after, I had been left to my own devices. Call your mother. I knew I needed to. Call Megan. But I wasn’t as close to her. Would she even care when I called? Call…Paige? No, I’d probably text her. But that seemed like a much more palatable idea than reaching out to anyone else. Before I moved in with Mommy, my cellphone had been practically glued to my hand–as it likely is for most anyone else in the 21st Century. An unintended consequence of my move, however, had been a lot less screen time. I had handed my laptop and cellphone over to Mommy early on–though they were never actually hidden away. She’d give me time on them in small doses–but if I really wanted them, I could have them. For a time, I had missed being so connected to the world. I had taken for granted how easy it was to know anything. News. Music. A game to distract me. YouTube. Wikipedia. It was all just a finger's movement away. With a screen less convenient to get to, I had to fill that time with something else. Thinking, mostly. But then I got sick of thinking all the time. I’ve heard people say that technology like phones, tablets, and laptops only serve to act as pacifiers for adults. I’d argue that I wasn’t at my most infantile until my phone was gone. When I had gotten sick of thinking–I became proficient at just turning my mind off. My phone was right where I expected it to be, and it was dead. Mommy had charging cables in just about every room of the house, and so it wasn’t hard to find one. I plugged it in, and waited for it to charge for a little bit. As tempting as it was to stare off into space and slip into the empty headspace I sometimes found synonymous with being ‘baby-brained,’ I just stared at the phone–waiting for it to be charged enough to use. A few minutes later, the screen illuminated. Off the grid. It was a phrase I had thought about from time to time. I hadn’t really gone off the grid–not in the way that people who prided themselves on such a feat did it. I had merely become harder to reach. Perhaps frustratingly so. 27 Missed Text Messages. I used to make it a habit to at least check my phone once a week–just to make sure that I wasn’t missing anything important. That habit had slipped into the ether at some point. I was ignoring the texts from my mother. The friends–the friends I cared about–knew where I was. And the rest just didn’t seem important at all. There were a few texts from ‘Mom’–the name still throwing me off when I saw it. It was my mother–not Mommy. I had only just changed her name to ‘Mom’ in my phone before everything in my life upended. In fact, the change of name had been what caused the confusion when Megan sent pictures of my messy diaper to the wrong woman. My mother reached out almost every week. Not long after I had moved in with Mommy, her messages had an almost pleading tone to them–practically begging for me to call her. At the time, I assumed it was, exclusively, because she wanted to know what those pictures were about. More recently, her texts seemed to lack a sense of immediacy–acting only as somber reminders that she still cared about me, regardless of whatever it was that she had seen earlier. Her most recent text was really all I needed to read: Mom: “I hope you’re doing well, Clark.” For the most part, the rest of the new texts seemed to be of no real consequence. A cousin was spamming every number saved in his phone to try to drum up support for a new online business he was working on. A group text from some folks I had gone to college with had some new activity. Also: Ava - “Hey, you around? I was hoping we could catch up.” Ava had reached out a little bit ago too–seemingly before Mommy had asked her to babysit for me. The text was dated a few weeks ago. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have changed in my timeline if I had answered her then. Did my silence help push her towards Caleb, even a little bit? No use dwelling on that now. Though that did remind me of something else. I had Paige’s number memorized by this point. I punched it in and started crafting a message for her. I was met with writer’s block–texter’s block?–right away. Even before I had allowed myself to regress to babyhood, I hadn’t been the most suave when it came to the ladies. What was I supposed to say? “Hey, baby, am I happy to have seen you, or is my diaper just wet?” No, no, no. I deleted the message as quickly as I could. “It was great seeing you the other night. I hope I can see you again soon.” Better. And true. But…was that really what I wanted my opening message to her to be? I felt like I had to reference diapers somehow. I was just so curious about what Paige’s deal was. Maybe Lyndie was right and I had somehow managed to inspire someone else to start wearing diapers. Considering how many people had seen–or known–about my diapers by now, maybe the odds were in my favor that someone liked what they saw. What was the other option? That of all the people in my neighborhood to have seen me in a diaper, Pizza Girl just so happened to be an ageplay enthusiast herself? “Keeping dry?” No, that wasn’t any good either. Deleted. “I cracked open a jar of strained green beans today and I thought about you…” What the fuck? No. Deleted. I was overthinking it, and would probably continue to overthink it. Me, to Paige: “Hello. This is Clark. AKA…Diaper Boy. It was great seeing you the other night. I hope I can see you again soon.” Sent. Done. There was a hot spurt of pee in my diaper, the new warmth quickly absorbed by the padding and dispersed in every direction. I wondered how Paige would react to the truth: that I didn’t just like diapers–I wore them 24/7 and usually needed someone else to change them for me. Would she run for the hills? Or would she just laugh and volunteer to wipe my ass for me? I’m probably jumping into this stuff way too quickly. I should be thinking about potty training. I should be thinking about working and saving money. School. Apartments. I should, at the very least, not have my cock locked up in a cage when I go out to meet people. How soon was too soon to tell someone you were interested in that your cock was, effectively, off limits? For now, at least. I wished I had brought that up in my conversation with Mommy earlier. There was another splash of warmth between my legs. Might as well just empty it all out. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly as I finished what my body had already started–releasing a nice long stream into the diaper. All this time later and I still wasn’t sick of this feeling. It was a moment of pure bliss, feeling the diaper swell and thicken around me. And then, immediately after, there was the pleasure of getting to sit in my swampy pants. Sometimes–when I’d wet so much that the padding couldn’t keep up with all the moisture–excess pee would puddle at the bottom of the diaper, making it feel like there was a water balloon between my legs. I loved that feeling. I wanted to ‘grow up,’ but that didn’t mean I wanted to give up diapers forever. I already knew that diapers, on some level, were just going to be a part of me forever. My phone vibrated. I quickly grabbed at it, expecting–hoping–it would be a response from Paige. It was. Paige: “Well, well, well. Who let this baby have a phone? And ‘Clark?’ Not the name I imagined you having.” I took a deep breath, slowly releasing it from my nose. Flirtatious banter–oh how I had missed you. Me: “What name did you think I’d have?” Paige: “Paul? Peter? Something with a P, I think.” Me: “There’s not a single P anywhere in my name!” Paige: “Would you have guessed my name is Paige?” Me: “No. But I also don’t think I’ve ever met a Paige in my entire life.” This was the life–my feet kicked up on the coffee table, my hand slipping between my legs to feel my warm and bloated diaper with one hand while the other communicated with my newest friend. “Skipped a few years, have you?” A voice said from behind me. Surprised, I slid my feet off the table, fumbling with my phone before ultimately dropping it on the ground as my cheeks blushed brightly. My only response was a confused: “Huh?” “They grow up so fast,” Mommy sighed dramatically. “He was just a little baby yesterday. Today, he’s smiling at his phone like a teenager. Still in diapers though…” “I…uh…” I felt like I owed her an apology, though I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d be sorry for. “Who’s got you all flustered-looking, Baby?” “Uh, well, this is just some…friend. We’d known each other for a little bit and…” “A girl, Clarky?” “Yes…” She shook her head slowly, smiling as she watched me. “Is that what all this growing up and moving on stuff is about, Clarky? Are you catching feelings for someone?” “N-no, Mommy. I…” “I’m teasing you, Baby.” I sighed and laughed nervously, reaching down to grab my phone, seeing that Paige had responded. Paige: “Truth be told, Paige is my middle name. But my first name is Trudence, believe it or not. But this is the one and only time we make mention of that name. Got it?” “Is it Ava?” Mommy asked. I shook my head. “Is it…someone I know?” I shook my head again. “Is she cute?” I felt my cheeks warming considerably as I nodded. “Be sure to let her know that if she hurts you in any way, I’ll hunt her down and mount her head on my wall.” “Uh…I’ll see if I can work that into the conversation.” And that seemed to be that. Mommy had nothing else to say about the situation–even later when she was changing the incredibly soggy diaper I was wearing while texting with Paige. Usually, this was when she was able to ask me all the hard-hitting questions, knowing that I couldn’t run and hide from them. Tonight, she kept her questions to herself and just went about her job with a smug smile on her face. “Are you too big for the crib, now?” she asked me later, escorting me to the nursery for bedtime–a nightly ritual of ours. “I…I’m still a baby, Mommy. For now.” “For now,” she repeated, wistfulness in her voice. “I’ll take what I can get.” She leaned into the crib, planting an especially juicy kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight, Baby. I love you.” “I love you too, Mommy.” She paused at the door before stepping out into the lit hallway. She didn’t say anything, she just seemed to be taking everything in–taking a mental photograph, perhaps. I rarely had trouble falling asleep while in the crib. A thick diaper between my legs and a stuffed animal at my side, and I felt like I could sleep through an earthquake if I had to. Tonight, however, sleep wasn’t coming all that easily. Part of it was just this energy that I felt running through my body–an excitement about the things to come. Jobs. Money. Buying sandwiches from the deli. I missed life, and it was all starting to feel close again. But there was another feeling too. Anxiety. Life was hard, and I remembered the times that I thought I wasn’t very good at it. How long after I left Mommy’s bubble would I find myself run down by everyday living again? The anxiety turned to restlessness, and the restlessness made me thirsty. I rarely left the crib once Mommy put me into it for the night, but tonight would have to be an exception. I reached around the bars and pulled the lever to release the side of the crib so that I could climb out. Mommy would probably still be downstairs–but that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe I could sit with her on the couch for a little bit. Maybe she’d even let me sit in her lap. As I made my way down the steps, I could hear Mommy talking–her words getting a little more clear with each step. “...and I feel like a fool,” she was saying to someone. She was probably on the phone, as I was almost positive that I’d have known if she was having a visitor tonight. “This was always the plan, you know–he’d spend some time with me and then go out on his own again. I always knew he’d leave eventually. But I didn’t really think about it all that much, you know? Out of sight, out of mind.” She paused, presumably to let the person on the other end talk. I was tempted to get even closer and stand near the entrance to the living room, but I stayed on the bottom step. “Right,” Mommy said. “Exactly. It’s just… It’s hitting me a lot harder than I thought it would. And I can’t let him know that, of course. I want him to do what he wants to do. I want him to be happy. And if he’s ready to spread his wings again–I’m all for it. But…can I say something a little selfish right now?” Another short pause. “When he’s gone, I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself. I don’t have a spouse. I don’t have children. And when the one thing I have–a grown man who I keep in diapers–is gone…what then? I’m tired of being alone. I…I feel like I’ll have nothing, Neve. Well, besides work–and I can’t let that define my life. It terrifies me.”

Okay, you do you ! As long as you are aware of the potential harms involved, i fully support your freedom to make these choices. You are right about Wikipedia not being a reliable source of information on some regards. Especially politics, history, individuals, etc. However, the page on estrogen does contain accurate and on point information to the best of my knowledge.

Tell me, does one have a reputable source that isn't Wikipedia which can be edited by anyone in the planet to say anything one wants to. No one's inflicting harm on themselves, rather they're doing something to remove mental harm to themselves. Good on ya @Elfy, glad to see you're happy with yourself ❤️

A cloth diaper and billowy plastic pants. I love the retro look of diapers like this and it is who I am "The Baby Pants"

Love this!!

Yes, I do! It's been roughly 3 or 4 years since I've been padded, but my tie-dye diapers came so after work you know what's up :3 I ordered some weed leaf diapers today too!

Around the house or in bed, it's capacity first. I don't really worry too much about comfort, because all of my high-capacity diapers are pretty comfortable. Discretion at home is not an issue - everyone I live with knows that I wear diapers. Out in the world, discretion becomes more important. Capacity is still an important consideration, and really, that's part of what I would call "comfort", but around the house, or in bed, I'm not, say, hiking, or walking long distances, or standing for long periods of time. Under those conditions, a heavier, plastic diaper might cause chaffing, for example, and so I might select something breathable (if I'm going to the gym) or something a bit lighter.

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 63 Isabelle's mind was racing. Her eyes had barely adjusted to the now reignited auditorium. Her ears had not quite recognized the raucous applause around her as she just barely lifted her head off of the soft carpet she likewise didn't recognize. But her mind? Her mind was racing. It wasn't the only thing racing, however. Isabelle's heart was beating faster than she could ever recall. Together, heart and mind, her thoughts and emptions were causing a whirlwind inside of her that her body had not quite caught up to. Had her eyes been capable of registering what was happening around her, they would have seen a jam packed auditorium standing as the ballerinas on stage took their bows. Had her ears been capable of hearing, they would have caught as several parents called down to their children with pride, wanting to give their performers the individualized attention they all so deserved. Had her brain been accepting information from the nerves at the edges of Isabelle's fingers, she would have registered that she had been, at some point during the second half of the performance, laid down on the soft, plush carpet, now sporting a small drool spot from her mouth. But none of that had happened, even as Isabelle sat up on her recently soaked diaper, the cushion squelching beneath her. Isabelle's heart and mind continued to race as her body acted on autopilot, her arms stretching out above her head, her physical form having been disrupted from its slumber. Isabelle did not, however, feel rested. Her dream was more real than ever, and Isabelle began questioning whether her time in Aquaria was not her actual reality. '....But what would that make this?' She found herself asking. Isabelle's mind felt out of control, and for the first time in a while, out of synch with her body. It was as though her mind had been hit by a train of information; her eyes were opened wide, both literally and figuratively. But all they could process was what she had learned in her dream. It was the slippers. Isabelle repeated the thought to herself over and over as memories began to slowly seep into her mind. 'It was the slippers' Isabelle reinforced her newly discovered theory as Jane picked Isabelle up from the floor, holding her NOW baby daughter close to her body. 'It was the slippers' Isabelle repeated and repeated the line to herself. No matter now much time seemingly passed, Isabelle was fueled by her sudden realization. The adrenaline had not worn off at all from the moment she had returned from Aquaria. There were too many questions to ask, far too few answers, and absolutely no direction with which to follow moving forward. Isabelle was absolutely dazed. But whether it was the daze, or something else, Isabelle's body continued to act consistent with her current physical self, and perhaps against her mind. When her mom lifted her up, Isabelle did not resist. When her mom snuggled her neck, Isabelle released a giggle and cuddled into the nook of her mom's neck. Isabelle's mind may have been coming to, but her body was not. To an onlooker, Isabelle's behavior thus probably seemed precisely how one might expect. Isabelle was stunningly silent through the lengthy standing ovation and applause, as each dancer was cheered on loudly by the friends, family, and classmates. The noise, which normally might have bothered her, felt muted. Instead, all Isabelle heard was the echoes of her mind replaying her dream over and over again. Isabelle stayed silent as her mommy and daddy went to congratulate Dani's parents. Isabelle hardly even noticed they had moved to another balcony, her eyes completely transfixes on her ballet slippers wrapped around her mother's side as her mind continued to struggle with the reality of her situation. More than a few "she must be exhausted" and "what an absolute champion" were thrown in Isabelle's direction by curious friends. Isabelle heard none of it. Isabelle reacted to none of it Nor was any of it true; Isabelle felt full of energy, her heart pounding hard against her chest. "Well," Jane said, transitioning the conversation with her peers, "we have to collect ours and get this one home to bed." Jane shifted Isabelle higher up on her hip, stroking her daughter's hair in an effort to calm her down. "I don't know," Dani's mom joked sheepishly. "She looks so stiff and attentive all the sudden. You'd think she'd be fast asleep on your shoulder at this point!" Sam and Jane curiously met eyes; Isabelle was acting a little strange, to their eyes at least. "I'm sure she's just overtired, and a little thrown off by all the noise and lights. She'll be out cold before we back the car out of the lot." Sam explained Jane changed her facial expression from concern into a smile; 'he's right, after all,' she told herself. But he wasn't. Or it didn't feel like he was. Isabelle suddenly felt very lonely. Her momm- mother could not possible understand what she was going through at that moment, as more and more memories of her past life flooded into her mind. 'Or can she? Does she.....know?' Isabelle wondered. The terrifying thought occupied Isabelle's mind as Jane carried her toward the staircase that would lead down to the main floor. 'What if momm......mom has known all along what's been happening to me....what's happened to me over the last.....well months!' It couldn't be true, Isabelle wanted to believe. But the sinking thought of it even being possible horrified her. Isabelle's eyes moved up from her shoes to meet her mother's gaze, the first time she had stopped looking at her slippers. 'Momm...Mom has had this kind of work out for her,' Isabelle thought. 'She met a nice man, she's engaged...' Isabelle's mind got stuck on that fact for a moment longer than she intended. As a baby, she had not appreciated the ramifications of her mom's engagement beyond that she was going to be a flower girl. But her mind was suddenly not that little girl's, and reality was setting in. 'It couldn't be though,' Isabelle concluded, not wanting to to consider the idea for one moment longer, and certainly not wanting to explore the notion that her mom would engage in half, let alone some very particular things, with Isabelle had she known what was happening. But Isabelle's current situation was suddenly becoming all too real to her. She was in her mother's arms. HER ARMS! Jane was carrying her, as though Isabelle was nothing. And Isabelle practically was nothing. Isabelle's eyes traced her little pudgy arms, before scanning down her body to the legs wrapped around her mom's torso. It was remarkable; she was LITERALLY a baby. 'How....can this be.....real?' Yet Isabelle's body tried with all of its effort to get even closer to her mom, pulling on her mom's neck with all her might in order to get her head higher up. Jane simply shifted Isabelle to Jane's front, allowing Isabelle's head to collapse fully on Jane's shoulder. Isabelle recognized, however, that was had happened was real, however possible. Memories of being in classes with those girls she had JUST watched on the stage were starting to return to her mind. It felt as though it were just days ago. Then suddenly, Isabelle was in 10th grade all over again, and everyone acted......'completely normal about it.' It was as though Isabelle was the only one who realized what had happened. Isabelle's heart began to race faster as her mom's feet hit the ground level. Before she knew it, her mom had rounded a corner, and in her mind, she had shrunk again; this time to middle school. Memories of her new friends, of Mel, brought a smile to her face, if briefly. But the concern and shock returned almost immediately thereafter. 'How was any of this possible...' Isabelle's mind turned back to her investigation. It seemed so foolish now, but had she simply not identified the cause. 'The slippers...' No matter how many times she spoke it to herself, it remained shocking to think. Isabelle's attention was snapped for the first time since the show had ended. It felt as though it had been nearly an hour, if not quite that. Isabelle felt as her mom's body however, re-energized as they greeted someone. "Sweetie you were AMAZING! I mean absolutely AMAZING! WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU!" Jane's voice echoed in Isabelle's ears as she picked her head up to see Lola, walking out of the locker room, still wearing much of her ballet outfit and her makeup. 'She's blushing,' Isabelle thought. It was a shocking thought to have, Isabelle reflected in an instant. Not just because Isabelle was able to recognize such a subtle body response. It was shocking because Lola rarely blushed. 'Lola knows she's great. Even when her dad.....' Isabelle's mind trailed off, before the realization set in. 'She hasn't had a mom to greet her after a show in almost a decade.' Isabelle was both grateful and regretful that she recognized how special the moment must have been for Lola, after all these years, after developing such a nice relationship with her....... with their mom. Isabelle was happy for her friend. Her best friend. Isabelle's theory was only confirmed by Lola's more indifferent response to her dad's compliments. "Thanks guys. But I wasn't even the lead in this one. It's Dani that was amazing...." 'Humble.' Now that was a response Isabelle was used to Lola providing, despite being the strongest dancer of their year. Isabelle didn't get to think much longer, before she was suddenly lifted out of her mom's arms, and grasped tightly by Lola. Lola's touch was so delicate. Isabelle had held her friend's hands so often, the touch felt just as familiar as it cradled her body. "And how about you Belly? What did you think of how I did?" Lola asked playfully, as she used her free hand to accept a bouquet of flowers Sam handed to her. Isabelle wanted to compliment Lola, to tell her she was amazing, to point out the nuances of Lola's performance, the specific moves she completed perfectly. Isabelle's mind was recycling memories of those parts of the show she had been awake for, and felt the glowing response coming out, sitting on the very tip of her tongue, begging to escape. But her body simply didn't allow it. Instead, Isabelle buried her face into Lola's shoulder, rubbing her dripping nose and drooly mouth into the nook of Lola's neck. Isabelle simple nodded, pushing her face in deeper to her friend's skin, the all-too familiar smell of Lola's perfume flowing through Isabelle's nose. Isabelle expressed her approval the only way her body would allow; nodding up and down into Lola's neck. "Aww.....Is someone tired?" was all Lola said in response. Jane answered for Isabelle. "Yeahhh, I think so. But you'd be so proud. She lasted the whole first half of the show. She watched from my arms, and dad's arms, and she kept pointing and pointing at you, calling your name. We had to put her pacifier in just to keep her quiet. She was practically screaming for you!' 'Another blush.' This one, Isabelle felt, as the warmth spread to Lola's cheeks, pressing against her own face. It made her happy. Which was odd all things considered. Isabelle was still smiling when Lola grasped Isabelle more firmly, translating her carry into more of a hug or cradle. It only made Isabelle happier. "What an amazing little girl you are!" was the only response Isabelle heard, as she settled her head further into her friend. It felt familiar, and that was comforting. So familiar, Isabelle nearly nodded off, nearly forgot that her world had come crashing back to reality. From there, the conversation took off without Isabelle at all. Lola led the way through the school. Jane continued to marvel at all of Lola's pieces of the performance, often pointing out the very things Isabelle had wanted. In fact, Isabelle was a little shocked about how much her mom actually knew about ballet. 'I never realized how much she really paid attention to me...' It was a sobering though, yet still overflowed Isabelle with love. The conversation didn't stall from the auditorium to the car. Isabelle kept her head buried in Lola's shoulder. Her mind was still racing, but her body felt so relaxed. Isabelle's mental journey continued, as memories of her second time in second grade returned. The loneliness of that time took over; she had been without her friends from high school or middle school. There had been so much stress during the day and at night with trying to get to the bathroom. Of everything that happened to her, even more than it happening to begin with, that time had been a major low point in her journey. The emotions of the memories were too much for Isabelle, and Isabelle felt her body finally begin to act with her min as she let out a few sobs and some cries just as Lola approached the car. "Shhhhh. Shhhh Shhh. It's okay Belly," Lola whispered, believing Isabelle's stirs to be related to the opening of the car door, or simple exhaustion. "Let's get you into your car seat, and well be in bed in no time. Shhhh Shhh.." Isabelle was not ready to let go, however. Isabelle didn't want to be alone, to be without Lola ever again. Her memories of her time in second grade were too much, and her grip on her friend - or sister - tightened. It was relentless. "Okay, Okay!" Lola exclaimed, actually shocked at the sting of pain from Isabelle digging her nails into her neck. "I'll carry you around to the other side with me," Lola said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. After such a long evening, she didn't need a toddler's nails in her neck, and she was herself quite exhausted. The promise was enough to calm Isabelle's nerves as she released her vice grip on Lola, and settled back down into her friend's body. Isabelle didn't stir again as Lola closed the side door. Isabelle didn't fidget as Lola carried her to the other side. Isabelle didn't budge as Lola slid into the car in one swift movement, closing the door with a freed hand. Isabelle simply rested. Lola, however, was not going to overlook safety. Deftly, Lola shifted Isabelle off of her shoulder and into her car seat. Before Isabelle could so much as open her eyes, she found herself buckled in firmly, the padding of her seat enveloping her. Isabelle thought she would be more upset to be away from Lola. But in truth, her car seat lent her body a comfort her mind was not expecting. Rather than protest the lack of contact with Lola, Isabelle instead found a special peace within her special seat, her body relaxing, even if her mind would not. Her mind's journey continued. But rather than further distress, Isabelle's mind seemed to settle as memories of daycare flooded her mind. "I was - am - so little," Isabelle confessed, or indeed accepted, as her mind replayed memories and images from class with Becky and Julia as though she was there at that very minute. Isabelle saw a smile on her face, as she called out animal names, played with make-believe trains, memories filling her heart with warmth. More than familiarity, or clarity, engulfed her. Isabelle was filled with a sense of joy, of happiness, of completeness, as her mind played memory after memory of singing, dancing, playing and more at daycare. Isabelle felt no distress, and certainly no stress, as her mind seemingly calmed itself for the first time since she had woken up after the show. 'I was.....truly happy there,' Isabelle confessed to herself, just as she felt her lips part as Lola slipped her pacifier into her mouth in the car. Isabelle felt her eyes settle shut, as her body went into autopilot, suckling her pacifier graciously. 'Happier than.....' Isabelle wasn't sure if it was true. Or if she was even willing to admit it. But part of her wanted to think it, wanted to say it. Happier than she had been in a while. Isabelle's confessions was seemingly only reinforced as the car began to back out of the spot, before Sam shifted into drive, and began the journey home. Despite reality setting into her mind, Isabelle felt confused. 'Shouldn't I be freaking out? At least, more than I am...?' But Isabelle's heart rate was slowing, her mind was calming. It wasn't yet relaxed, but more that it was confused. 'Do I even have a choice?' Isabelle wondered. But as she did, she opened her eyes, and stared down at her feet. Despite her enlightenment, she had not once tried to take her slippers off. 'I'm still wearing them.....I suppose I could just....take them off.' Isabelle was too distracted to consider the irony that she had been happily suckling her pacifier while contemplating her very adult decisions. ... ... 'I don't know what I want.' Isabelle admitted it quietly, as she felt her body shift against the cushion of her seat. Her eyes shut firmly once again, her realization briefly causing her heart to speed up again. But something unexpected happened that calmed her down; Isabelle's face warmed at Lola's touch, who seemingly noticed her distress. Isabelle didn't need to open her eyes. In fact, she preferred to keep them shut, allowing her sense of touch and feel to have exclusive focus on Lola's touch, as her gentle fingers stroked Isabelle's cheek, before playfully dancing their way down her chest and stomach, down her legs, and to her slippers, before repeating the motions back up her body. Isabelle squirmed gleefully in her chair as she felt the car make another turn, her body shifting toward the door this time instead. Conversation continued in the car around her. Isabelle heard echoes of her mom's voice. Her new dad's voice. Lola's voice. There was laughter. There were high pitches and low. There was excitement and energy. It was an incredible sensation; Isabelle had never quite had a family like this before. And as she considered that thought, she realized no one else in the car really had either, at least in some time. More remarkable than anything was the fact that it occurred to Isabelle she either wasn't even hearing the words that were spoken, or couldn't comprehend them. Yet, the feeling of fulfillment was still the same. She FELT it, KNEW it, was PART of it, and even added to it. Knowing what was said was not as relevant as simply being present in that moment. The sensation of feeling whole was too much for her little body to handle emotionally. Isabelle's mind, perhaps, could have managed it. But her body was still operating very much as it had for the past several weeks. Right now, that little body needed to move. Isabelle felt her back arch up from the soft padding it had been laying against, but that alone wasn't enough. Isabelle's feet stretched out as much as her seat would allow, before bending, her feet resting against her seat. Isabelle pushed her feet, using the leverage created with her legs to arch her body further. Isabelle mustered just enough strength to life her wet diaper up from the seat, pressing against the five point harness that held her securely in the car as much as she could. Sensing she lacked the strength to hold herself long, Isabelle used her arms to hold herself suspended, if even just for a moment. Isabelle's stirring didn't garner much, if any reaction or attention, other than Lola's hand continuing to dance around her body.. 'It's completely normal to them,' Isabelle acknowledged, as she pressed up further against her harness with all her might, the conversation, noise, and family around her continuing about as though everything was in order. Isabelle smiled beneath her pacifier, which continued to shift in, and out, of her mouth with every breath. Isabelle's exertion of effort caused her body to engage in an unexpected, different reaction. It was an indescribable moment, frozen as she suspended herself above her car seat. Isabelle's mind was fully hers once more. Perhaps overwhelmed with the onslaught of memories and feelings returning all at once. But hers nonetheless. Yet Isabelle's body was not her own. It continued to respond to the every stimuli, internal and external, as it had, as it should, as was normal for the little baby she had become, that she was. So while her mind was fully aware of what happened next, her body proceeded without hesitation. Isabelle's stomach muscles delicately pushed as her face scrunched up, just enough to ensure she could help her bowels along. Isabelle's mind processed as her sphincter wantingly opened up, allowing her poop to escape into the welcoming diaper underneath her. Isabelle's body naturally proceeded, emptying what poop it had, wave after wave, as her mind acknowledge the feeling of the poop piling up in her diaper, first weighing it down until it was practically touching the seat beneath her, and then continuing to pile up until the very last log stacked up, resting against the skin of her bottom. Isabelle's mind wanted to be disgusted at what she had just fully been aware of happening. Isabelle was, however, in a way disgusted that her mind was not. 'It should be wrong, feel wrong.' But it didn't. 'It doesn't....it feels.....good," Isabelle admitted. 'It feels right." Isabelle's body continued to overpower - or perhaps work with, if Isabelle was being honest - her mind, as the effort to keep herself suspended was simply too much for her little body. Slowly, effortlessly, seamlessly, Isabelle released the tension in her arms, lowering herself slightly. Isabelle's mind braced as she felt the very top log of poop, which had been resting so delicately against her skin, begin to flatten as the weight of her body pressed down on it, and the layers of poop below it. Isabelle continued, releasing the strain in her legs, one at a time, as she unbent her right knee first. Isabelle stretched her little right leg out, feeling relief in the tension it had holding her body up, as the right side of her body sank further. Isabelle felt her right butt cheek push more weight down against the mound of poop beneath her, now pressing it more firmly, with more weight, feeling the warm solid mound press down around her right side. Isabelle felt as the poop covered her right butt check, pressing further behind her, and even in front, before she lowered no more. Still, her mind was not disgusted. Still, Isabelle was shocked it was not. Isabelle repeated the process with her left knee, which represented the last remaining structure holding her body up. Isabelle felt relief as her leg stretched out, as had her right, before a similar sinking happened on her left. Her poop covered her left butt cheek, before shifting forward and back, up the backs and front of her diaper. Unlike last time, however, the full weight of her body was now pressing her poop in every direction. By the time Isabelle stopped sinking, the poop had risen not only to the top of the back of her diaper, but the front as well. Still, no disgust. 'This should be mortifying!' Isabelle couldn't help but think. Yet her mind was not mortified. And her body was, in fact, the complete opposite, as the smile on her face extended. Isabelle shifted her weight left and right, finding a sweet comfort seated in her poop. Despite being fully seated on it now, Isabelle was not making any contact with the padding of her diaper. Rather, a thick layer of her poop was propping her up, and Isabelle felt noticeably taller in her car seat, and equally, if not more comfortable. Isabelle was snapped our of her daze as she heard a noise to her left; Lola had used her free left hand to lower the power window on the driver's side near her. Isabelle almost forgot where she was, a sense of guilt beginning to trickle into her mind. 'Oh my god....what will they think? What will they say?' The disgust Isabelle had been expecting, but had not come, would soon enough be thrust upon her, Isabelle knew, whether she wanted it or not. Yet it never came. There was no reaction at all to what Isabelle's body - nay, what Isabelle - had done. No reaction when she had lifted herself up. No response when she had scrunched her face and pushed. No comments as she piled her poop up into her diaper. No remarks as she sat back down in it, spreading it around. No jests as Lola cracked open a window. Everyone conducted themselves as though nothing had happened, nothing abnormal. Conversation continued. Laughter continued. And the sense of family, of completeness, never left the car. No disgust. In fact, It had only occurred to Isabelle in that precise moment, that Lola's hand had never left her body throughout her entire pooping experience. Lola's hand had danced up her tummy when Isabelle scrunched. Lola's hand danced down her diaper and to her legs as Isabelle had pushed. Lola's hand had paused to rest on Isabelle's diaper to confirm what Isabelle was doing as Isabelle had released her arms. And Lola's hand danced all the way up to Isabelle's fact, caressing Isabelle's cheek, as Isabelle released her weight down onto her poopy diaper, spreading it about. Lola's hand had never left, still gently motioning her right thumb across Isabelle's cheek, periodically wiping the drool dripping from Isabelle's lips. Lola's hand never left. Isabelle's eyes began to rest more fully, as she allowed the full weight of her head to collapse into Lola's open hand. Isabelle felt Lola's hand curve ever so slightly, creating a pillow on which Isabelle could rest. The noise and sounds around her began to dull once more, but never left. Never stopped. Isabell returned to her thoughts, comfortable, cozy, and calm. 'Would it be so bad to stay like this?' The question had been hovering in her mind for a while, and Isabelle could hardly believe she was considering it. At the same time, she could. It was nice beyond belief to have a family dynamic she had never had. Isabelle also couldn't deny how happy those were around her; her mom, was truly in love. Lola, who always complained of being an only child, had a sister. Even Sam, who Isabelle had known for years, was like a completely different person. 'But that isn't reason to do this,' Isabelle knew. She had to make a decision for herself, ultimately. Was she really ready to throw away all her years of ballet training? All her memories and experiences with her best friends, Lola and Dani, as their equal? Would it be worth it, just to grow up all over again? 'It's not as though I couldn't do ballet all over again,' Isabelle began reasoning with herself. "And....' Isabelle hesitated. She knew that in all likelihood, she, Lola, and Dani would have been going their separate ways after they graduated. They didn't like to talk about it, but it lingered behind everything they did. '...and this would let me keep Lola, and maybe even Dani, in my life in a way I wouldn't have been able to otherwise....' Isabelle's realization hit her like a truck just as she felt the car come to a stop. "I'll grab her." Isabelle heard Lola state. It wasn't a question. "Okay," Isabelle heard Jane reply. "I'll meet you upstairs." Isabelle left her eyes shut. She soon heard the car door next to her open, followed by a cool winter breeze blow across her face. Isabelle shuddered as Lola unbuckled her harness. Isabelle felt the weight of her diaper fall under her as she was lifted into Lola's arms, clutching her big sister closely for warmth. Isabelle felt as Lola scooped her sagging diaper up, pressing the poop firmly against her skin once more, before carrying her into the house. "Let's go stinky. You made quite a heavy diaper in your seat sweetie." No disgust. No bother. Just love. All Isabelle felt was love, as she settled further into Lola's chest, comforted by the press of her full diaper against her skin. Isabelle's mind settled finally. She knew she'd have a decision to make. But right now, she was just tired. Isabelle relaxed her body and mind as Lola carried her up each stair toward her nursery. Isabelle felt as she was carried down the all-too familiar hall toward what had been her bedroom for months now. Isabelle smiled as she was lowered on to her soft changing table. The next moment she opened her eyes, she saw her mom staring down at her, smiling back. "Hey poopy pants. Let's get you into a fresh diaper," Jane cooed to Isabelle. Isabelle only giggled in response, blissfully unbothered by the mass she had made, sat it, and squished around in her diaper. Jane quickly undressed Isabelle until she was in nothing but her diaper. Then, Jane unsecured the tapes, not without making a remark. "Wheeeewwww. Belly. Quite the big stinky you made for everyone. What do you think Lola?!" Isabelle hadn't realized that Lola had stayed, seated on her mommy's nursing chair, until she responded. "Oh I got the full feel off it in the back of the car, don't you worry. Such a poopy girl!" Lola joked, as Isabelle felt her mom begin to clean her up. Isabelle felt safe as her mom wiped her, taking her time to clean up every inch of her. Isabelle never stopped suckling her pacifier as Jane worked to clean her up, sliding a fresh, thick diaper underneath Isabelle. "I really am proud of you," Jane said, turning to Lola. Isabelle watched as her mother's gaze left her for just a moment to look at her new big daughter. Her mom was sincere; Isabelle knew the tone. The undertone of pride was real, and Isabelle was proud too. "....th..thanks" Lola responded. "Thanks mom.." Lola repeated, adding a word that Jane, and even Isabelle had never expected to hear. A silence gripped the room, as Jane froze, holding the powder turned upside down over Isabelle. Lola was the first to break the silence. "I guess I need to get used to calling you that now," Lola said, startled by her own use of the word. It had been so long, and meant so much to say it. Jane wanted to cry. "You know you don't need to if you aren't comfortable. It's okay. I understand sweetie. I lost my mom young too, and I know she will always be your mom." Jane understood the situation was challenging, though Lola calling her that would mean the world to her. Lola immediately regretted her use of the word 'need.' "What I mean to say is...I...want to get used to saying it. I do want to call you mom...it may take some time before it feels natural though.." Jane had not moved, and as a result, had dumped an enormous amount of powder on Isabelle's crotch as she lay naked, open diaper on her changing table. But now she moved, lifting the powder back up, and chuckling at the mess she had made. Leaving Isabelle securely strapped to the changing table, Jane made her way over to Lola, who had stood up at this point, and the two embraced. Isabelle couldn't hear much of what was whispered between the two, but it warmed her heart nonetheless. Even naked as she lay, Isabelle felt warm and fuzzy. After what felt like a full ten minutes, Isabelle watched as the two separated, and both turned to Isabelle. "I think you may have used a little too much powder," Lola said, breaking the purity of the moment as the two laughed. "Yes. Yes I did. But she'll be fine. She wets so heavy at night anyway, I'll just tape her up and I'm sure she'll be soaked through, if not more in the morning. Though I don't know how she could have anything left in her after that diaper.." Isabelle smiled as Lola handed Jane a set of footie pajamas, which she was swiftly zipped into. Jane then handed Isabelle off to Lola, who proceeded to kiss her warmly, before laying Isabelle down gently into her crib. Isabelle fell asleep as Jane and Lola looked down at her. Isabelle didn't hear the door close behind them as they left soon after; she was blissfully asleep.

One of the annoying things I’ve found about giving up toilet training is that for vast amounts of time, nothing changes. I guess this is what happens when one tries to forget something by concentrating on it. It’s not a super-effective strategy. Sure, there’s a blaze of so-called “developments” in the very early days but (so it seems) but I’ve learned the hard way that they’re probably not real. We see things we want to see hiding in ambiguity. They’re a bit like those mirages shimmering in the distance over sand dunes that, if you squint your eyes carefully enough, look like pirate ships. Sorry to burst bubbles for anybody 3 months in to their “24/7” stint and reading this… Eventually of course, things DO happen but they tend to sneak up on you, at first they appear mundane or intermittent, or both. It’s only when one looks back and realises that some kind of trend is emerging. Still, it seems that I’ve been in that “nothing is changing” plateau for a VERY long time now, maybe a year. Frankly, I was starting to think that “This is it. This is as far as this road goes.” I’m noticing an increasing number of data points however suggesting that I’m becoming increasingly thoughtless in the department of nappies. I think I’ve mentioned before about my suspicion that I’ve been losing insight into my bedwetting which may well be masking the frequency of incidents. I’ve been concluding that I’ve been dry at night because I can’t remember noticing that I’d woken wetter than I think I should be but it ain’t necessarily so. I’m not noticing “wetter” very much anymore it seems. Noticing that I’m wet was something that faded quite early on. For me, being wet is normal and the only variable is HOW wet. I’d usually have a fairly solid vector on how wet I was based on how much I’d used my nappy. It’s just that this recall seems to be disappearing. The fact that I’ve woken with a mostly empty bladder, a soaked nappy and no specific memory of waking and using it just isn’t always registering anymore. It just seems normal. I suspect I’m wetting the bed quite a bit some weeks but I’ve stopped noticing it. Today I only realised I’d wet the bed when later on in the day at work, I suddenly had a flashback to a rather involved “pee dream” which would nicely explain why I was woken by the clock radio at 6am instead of my bladder with a soaking wet “bum-in-tepid-birdbath” sensation of an adult disposable terribly close to leaking (BetterDry “slightly less Better” edition payload of 2000ml – thank you very much IPA and vat of red wine). Additionally, I’ve started recently finding myself being a bit unclear if I’ve “used” my nappy or not during the day. This ambiguity window is relatively small however. If I’ve had a nappy on for more than 30 minutes, there’s a better than even odds chance it has seen some tiny amount action whether I can specifically recall that action or not. My work-morning day-nappy fresh on at 6:30am usually has a couple of drops in it by the time I’m parking my car at 7:30am. Later on however, when I’ve found myself seated at my office desk as my morning coffee decides it’s had enough of frolicking around inside of me and it’s time to come back outside and greet the day, I can’t remember. In those few fractions of a second between feeling that bladder spasm and moisture in the relevant area, I guess I kind of step through some kind of “pre-flight checklist”: In a nappy? Check! Nappy securely fitted? Check! Nappy has serviceable capacity? Check! All systems go. I can’t stop a pee that’s started these days but at least I can have some forewarning that I’m likely to leave a wet-spot on the chair. I might even stand up (peeing in a nappy whilst seated is higher risk than whilst standing I’ve discovered). The thing is, I’ve gotten to the “how wet am I?” bit of the list only to realise I’ve no idea. Am I dry or not? If it’s not that far of my last change, lately I often don’t know. The evening corollary to this happens after I change into my night nappy. I’ve often come back downstairs and sat down in front of the daily-doom-digest (aka “evening news”). At some point, I’ll realise that I’m about to wet a little and, somewhere in that automatic checklist, I also realise that I can't remember if it’s this nappy’s first rodeo or not. Sometimes I’ll take a quick grope down there just out of a sense of morbid curiosity. So, Occam’s razor says that I’m wetting my nappy lately and not remembering doing it. It’s more likely cognitive decline than incontinence. I’ll call it urinary “incogniscence” and graciously place my shiny new noun into the public domain. You’re welcome.

Disaster strikes Sam as the girls go out on their bikes. She is simply along for the ride until she is discovered at the other end. --- My writing is my passion and my income. I'm only able to write as much as I do because of the wonderful support from my subscribers. With the ABDL purge on Patreon hurting my income dramatically I have set up a couple of alternatives. If you enjoy my work and want to support me there has never been a time where I need it more. For $5 you can see every update to my stories one week before anyone else and for $10 you get early access PLUS access to 50+ stories EXCLUSIVE to subscribers. There are other rewards and tiers available including discounted commissions. To find out more please consider visiting one of my subscription sites. Prices, rewards and eveything else are the same across both https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy Thank you for reading and supporting me and my work ❤️ --- There was no response. The canopy was doing a remarkable job in stopping sound from escaping. She belatedly wished that she had the presence of mind to ask Nina to leave the front flap open. She let out a deep shaky breath. Wearing a diaper by choice in front of her friends was one thing, she could easily play it off as a precaution, but using it was something else entirely. Every time the trailer went over a bump on the path Sam felt more rumbles. Soon the rumbling became shifting which turned into pressure on Sam’s bowels. Perhaps the worst part of all this was not knowing how far they had left to go, they could be a minute or an hour away as far as Sam knew. She was shifting as much as she could in her seat but the cramps were getting worse. “Nina!” Sam cried out desperately. There was no response. No one could hear her. Sam was trapped in a little bubble separate from the rest of the world. She was trying not to panic but every time she got her breathing under control she felt another pain tear through her intestines. It felt like they were twisting and writhing in protest. Sam’s little arms and legs flailed as she tried to hit the canopy in the hope of attracting attention. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Sam repeated to herself. It was really going to happen. Sam felt heat rising in her face, her hands and feet shook and her desperate brain was racing through thoughts at a hundred miles per hour. She angrily rebuked herself for not going to the bathroom before they left, she hadn’t felt the need to go but she could’ve tried at least. Wetting her diaper in the night was one thing but Sam couldn’t fathom this. In the crib she wet herself because she couldn’t get out and didn’t want to wake up her best friend. Now her friends were mere feet away but completely absorbed in cycling and weren’t paying her any attention. This was going to be so much worse. Sam’s desperate mind came up with an idea. Maybe the problem was that she was just too full and she could buy herself some time by relaxing her bladder and peeing. She didn’t particularly want to wet herself but it was better than the alternative which felt like it was just minutes away. If it gave her a couple of minutes and that was enough time to make it to the next stop then it would be worth it. Remembering the night before Sam did her best to take a deep breath and relax herself. To her surprise she began peeing almost immediately. She hadn’t been aware of any special need to pee but maybe it had always been there, unnoticed because of the bigger urgencies. It was a still a very peculiar feeling. The warmth burst around her bottom and quickly spread up the back thanks to the way the seat had her sitting. She slowly let out her breath as she released her bladder. When she was finally done there was a cocoon of heat around her waist that didn’t feel all that bad, it was certainly better than her wet clothes had been. Sam looked out of the canopy she was under. For some reason she felt that what she had done would’ve been obvious to everyone around her but, of course, nobody was paying attention. The cycling continued as Sam felt the creeping heat continuing to slowly spread around her butt. As long as she didn’t let any of the others find out what had happened it didn’t seem so bad… A cramp ripped through Sam’s intestines. And her hands went straight down to her tummy. Any good feelings she had disappeared as she realised wetting herself hadn’t relieved the pressure in the slightest. She started feeling panicked as the pressure in her bowels seemed to grow by the second. “Nina!” Sam yelled. It was hopeless. She still couldn’t be heard. Sam tried to desperately think of some way to get out of the situation. The buckle for her seat was behind her, she knew that much, and reaching around she tried to find it. Her little arms had no hope of reaching the release, she couldn’t so much as lean forwards as the straps held her tightly back. Sam whimpered as tears filled her eyes. The pressure was building to levels she couldn’t control, it felt like there was a huge weight pressing against her sphincter and it was getting heavier all the time. There was no way for Sam to get anyone’s attention or get off the trailer. She was as useless as a baby. She waved her arms desperately as she saw her friends cycling past. Chrissy was paying no attention as she race around on the rocky path whilst Amy was constantly stopping and peering into the forest on one side and the lake the other with her binoculars. Soon it wouldn’t matter if anyone did notice her struggles as it felt like the only thing keeping the battle going was the seat right below her. She could feel her tired sphincter slowly losing the fight millimetre-by-millimetre. A family came cycling the other way and in her desperate state Sam tried to wave them down. They simply waved back and smiled thinking she was an excitable toddler. When the end came it was sudden. Sam felt the pressure building a little more but then her control gave out. She gasped as she suddenly felt a hot mushy mass get deposited in her seat. Sitting down as she was the poop had nowhere to go and spread out against her skin. She knew there was more to come but she was still trying to deal with the devastating reality that she was doing this. Sam’s bowels groaned in protest and she knew she had to get everything else. Without even thinking about what she was doing she lifted her butt an inch off the seat, it was all she could manage, and as soon as there was space her body pushed again. Sam moaned as she felt several long logs push into her underwear. She closed her eyes and felt her face go red as she held her breath and pushed. There was a muffled sound of breaking wind before a rush of sloppy mess rushed out and over the pile already in her diaper. Sam grimaced as she felt the waste pressing against her skin and spreading out. It got even worse as she lowered herself to sit in it. Compressed between the seat and her body, the poop spread over even more of her diaper. The smell started to leak out and contaminate the air as Sam started sniffing back tears. Sam caught a whiff of her own smell and cringed. The canopy stopped the sound going out and it was equally good at keeping the stink in. She was utterly trapped, all she could do was sit in the seat and wait to inevitably be discovered but she had no idea when it might be. The bike ride continued and every bump in the road made Sam bounce in her mess. She had cried for the first few minutes but then the tears dried up leaving her with a red face with streaks going down her cheeks. The smell became overpowering and she almost made herself sick but she slowly adjusted, or at least the smell seemed to get better. At the top of the hill they had been climbing for some time there was a rest area. Sam could see the path opening up into a clearing. To one side was an even more picturesque view of the valley below. The lake surrounded by forest was laid out before them all just over the edge of a small railing. There were a couple of picnic tables nearby though Sam was thankful that the four girls were the only people there. Amy stopped and neatly lowered her bike’s kickstand. Chrissy spun her bike as she skidded to a halt throwing up a cloud of dust. When Nina stopped next to her two friends Sam found herself shaking. She started crying again as she knew the moment of her discovery was at hand. Nina got off her bike and took a second before turning around when she saw Sam crying she frowned and hurried over. “Sam, what’s… Oh… God…” Nina unzipped the front of the canopy and the smell must’ve hit her like a bomb blast. Nina backed away. She almost looked like she was in shock. “Nina? What’s going on?” Chrissy asked. Amy and Chrissy came over and when they got within a few feet of the trailer they sniffed the air. They asked if some animal had left droppings nearby before the reality of the situation dawned on them. All three women looked into the trailer where Sam was hiding her face with her hands. Her diaper, the source of the offending smell was pushed out in front of her and she almost felt like she was looking at her friends through green stink lines. “I’m sorry…” Sam mumbled, “I… I’m sorry…” “Oh damn.” Chrissy said. “We’ve got to get her out.” Amy said though she made no attempt to approach Sam. It was Nina who had somewhat recovered from her shock who came forwards. She finished unzipping the canopy whilst clearly holding her breath. She was looking at Sam with sympathy and yet also didn’t want to spend too much time with her head in the trailer. It was typical, Sam thought, she just realised she might have a major crush on her friend and then she does this to utterly repel her. “I didn’t mean to…” Sam muttered. “It’s going to be OK.” Nina choked out. Sam felt Nina reach behind her and press the release for the straps. The belts slackened and with Nina’s help Sam climbed out of the seat. She felt disgusting and smelt worse. Nina backed up to let Sam step down off the trailer. She was crying still, her breath came in stages as tears cascaded down her face. If her diaper had felt heavy after her wetting it was nothing compared to how it was then. Her diaper was drooping as much as it was able to and seemed impossibly thick. Looking up Sam saw Chrissy suddenly cover her nose and back up several steps with a look of disgust on her face. Amy just seemed too shocked to do anything, it was only Nina who was trying to help in any way. “What happened?” Chrissy asked. Her voice was strained like she was doing her best not to breathe in at all. “I… I needed to go…” Sam sobbed, “I tried to tell Nina but she couldn’t hear me.” “I’m sorry.” Nina frowned with concern, “I didn’t hear a thing.” “Why didn’t you just wait?” Chrissy asked accusingly. “I tried!” Sam exclaimed and stomped her foot on the gravel. Did her friend think she did this deliberately? “Chrissy.” Nina looked over at the other woman with a severe look. Chrissy put her free hand up in apology before turning away and walking back several more paces. Sam felt like she was at the centre of some sort of exclusion zone, that her diaper was a toxic gas poisoning everyone around her. Even worse, she could see how Chrissy had looked at her, how Amy still WAS looking at her. She felt like she could read their minds: “Why did we bring this baby?” Perhaps worst of all was Nina. Sam could see her crush was trying to put a brave face on what had happened but it didn’t hide the embarrassment Sam knew Nina must have for being around her. It felt like no sooner had Sam noticed she had feelings for Nina than she blew up the chance for anything to happen in the most humiliating way possible. “It’s OK, Sam.” Nina said, “We’re going to sort this out. No one is coming up here so no one will know.” Those words did little to comfort Sam. It didn’t matter if strangers saw her like this, they all assumed she was a baby anyway, no matter how much she fought against that. It was her friends that worried Sam more. The people she was staying with, the people who knew her and would never forget what she had done. They would never see her the same way. Sam could already tell that as soon as they got back she would be asked to find a new place of residence. She sobbed even harder. “Please, Sam, don’t cry.” Nina said quietly in an understanding tone, “It’s going to be OK.” “It isn’t!” Sam finally exploded loudly enough that Chrissy turned and saw her. Sam didn’t want to open up emotionally. She’d already burdened her friends with everything that had happened on their vacation, with every adjustment they had had to make since they met her. She couldn’t just drop an emotional bomb on them. Not when she could still feel the squishy mess in the back of her diaper slipping against her skin whenever she shifted position. “Sam?” Nina prodded for Sam to open up. “I didn’t bring a spare diaper or anything.” Sam finally said. It was much easier to divulge the physical problem rather than the emotional one that was really causing her trouble, “I’m going to ruin your picnic by making us all go back before… Why are you looking at me like that?” “You don’t have to ruin anything.” Nina said. Her eyes flicked away from Sam guiltily. “What do you mean?” Sam asked, “I can’t just sit here like this…” Sam frowned as Nina looked at her with a sheepish smile. She slipped her backpack off her back and brought it to the ground between them both. She slowly unzipped it and Sam was shocked to see two clean diapers as well as a roll of toilet paper and a plastic bag. “You… You brought all this?” Sam said dumbly. “I wasn’t presuming you’d need it or anything!” Nina was quick to say, “It was for emergencies. I saw that you were wearing a diaper this morning, I know you’ve been having some trouble and I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.” Sam was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. On the one hand she was very grateful that Nina’s forward thinking may have saved their picnic, but on the other it meant that her friend had thought she would NEED a change. She could say it was “just in case” but friends don’t normally bring diapers on days out for “just in case”, these were brought specifically because of her. She might need them. No one else. The fact that she DID need them only did a little to ease Sam’s negative thoughts. “Please don’t be mad.” Nina finally said when Sam remained silent. “I just… I don’t know what to say.” Sam replied truthfully. “You don’t have to say anything.” Nina gave another small smile that sent Sam’s heart fluttering, “Just take my bag into the trees, find a spot and… well, you know.” “Change my diaper?” Sam said with self-loathing. She sniffed. The tears were stopping but the childish phrase made her cheeks turn pink, she saw Nina was blushing a little too. “You know the other two won’t say anything about it.” Nina continued, “We’ll look back on this in a few years and laugh.” Sam thought that might be pushing it but she took the bag from Nina and looked behind her to the trees at the edge of the clearing. The forest was pretty thick with vegetation, she wouldn’t have to go far in to them to get some privacy. “You’ll make sure no one comes over and sees what’s happening?” Sam asked Nina. “I’ll be your bodyguard.” Nina nodded. Sam took a deep breath and then wished she hadn’t as she smelt the pungent scent of her own heavily used diaper. She took the straps of the backpack and started dragging it over to the trees. She felt like Nina, Amy and Chrissy were all staring at her butt to see if they could see a bulge but she wasn’t going to look back to confirm that suspicion. She couldn’t believe she was finding herself in a position like this. --- If you want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW at either of the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyymi677/chapter/84355c57-7a8b-4e2a-9695-16b607ca37e7 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1191430

Woopsie! Maybe a native english speaker could help me to correct the text? Anyway, here is the next part. This time, it's just talking between two female character cause I have to prepare the action. The cafeteria where the women had their meals looked out, through large windows, onto the boys' playground. As long as we were too far away to understand their nonsense or have our ears torn by their screams, there was nothing more relaxing than watching boys play in a place provided for this purpose, where they couldn't break anything... except maybe -watch them sleep quietly but you shouldn't ask too much. Delphine was coming out of a particularly boring class with a verbose teacher whose main skill was to spend two hours of class explaining in every possible way what would have taken five minutes in an everyday language. A parasite. It seems that she was brilliant in her youth. If it was true, it was a valuable warning about the kind of cocky, pretentious imbecile you become the day you think you've arrived. Besides, his boy was poorly brought up. Well... of course, Delphine was not a reference: she found half of the boys poorly behaved, but this one was among the worst. She was grumbling when her friend Scylla came to join her at her table. Latin with a touch of Arab blood, very tall even for a woman of her century, muscular like a panther, energetic, ambitious, enthusiastic... next to her, Delphine sometimes had the effect of already being an embittered old witch. This impression was further aggravated by the fact that Delphine's studies revolved around virtual reality, a field which would easily provide her with a stable profession but in which everything had already more or less been invented, while Scylla was studying a field of the future if there was one: humanoid robotics. She had a chance to become a pioneer in her field, to have a career full of risks, discoveries and adventures. What brought the two young women closest, in short, was their shared passion for boys. For that at least, Delphine was a young adult like any other in the middle of her “boy crazy” period. So they started by exchanging comments on trendy boy bands, the most adorable male actors, the latest collections of clothing or toys... “It's unfortunate,” Delphine remarked, “but women tend to want to buy their boys a toy not because they think he'll find it particularly amusing, but because he'll be really cute with it in hands. _Yeah, replied her friend, it’s not glorious but it’s human. I guess we can do it 50/50.” Outside the boys were laughing, jumping, climbing, running in all directions, screaming war cries and, at the slightest scratch, a supervisor rushed at them armed with bandages and disinfectants. “Next year,” Delphine continued, “one in three supervisors will be replaced by a robot nanny. The decision has been made. » Scylla frowned. “Do you really want to talk about this? If it's to make you angry again... _ No, promised I won’t get angry. I still disagree and... I admit I sometimes had somewhat strong reactions but that's okay, I digested it all. On the other hand, I would continue to campaign against the legalization of robots with a disciplinary program. » Scylla shrugged. “You know what women said fifty years ago: MY boy will not be fed or dressed by a machine. Twenty years later, MY boy will not be bathed, diapered or rocked by a machine. Ten years ago, MY boy won't be prostate milked by a machine. Each time, the apocalypse was predicted and each time, the machines proved themself worthy : four times fewer domestic accidents in homes equipped with a nanny robot. _ Body care is one thing, but here we are talking about allowing a machine to punish a human, including spanking. A machine capable of hitting a human, however lightly, sounds like the start of a disaster scenario. _ So yes… but: On the one hand, if you fear a "I robot"-like scenario, remember that our nannies are not war machines. They are just built to be able to overpower a boy and remain much weaker than an adult woman. I'm not even talking about me, but a normal woman who isn't especially sporty. Then, they control the power of their movements about one centijoule, so there is no chance of them hurting a boy by accident. Last but not least, they ignore anger, fatigue, panic and anything else that could push a woman to go too far. From a purely security point of view, it is rather spanking by a human hand that should be prohibited. _And I suppose your metal nannies can understand why a boy misbehaves? They can make the difference between a boy who seeks to test the limits as they all do on occasion, and another who is feeling very bad and does not need punishment but listening and comfort? Scylla frowned, not out of annoyance but because the flame of ambition was kindled within her. " No... not yet. But it’s a good area for improvement, I would talk to my teachers about it. » That's how Delphine contributed despite herself to the advent of the Frankenstein's creature she wanted to prevent.

.... "Wha... wha?" Tony said. A fair of fingers were snapping in front if him, and he focused on them then felt his focus break. His mind cleared as if he was walking out of a fog, and he remembered where he was. Mommy was looking at him and smiling. "You ok honey? We're all done now." He looked around himself. He was in his own bedroom- a small, purple space with an adult sized crib, a pile of stuffed animals, and a closet full of dresses and diapers with just enough space to hide it all if someone vanilla came to visit. He was sitting on the ground, leaning back with his hands behind him, and wearing a diaper and bright yellow dress with a white collar. He realized he had just been hypnotized, and she had woken him up from it. "What did you do Mommy?" he asked. She waved a finger in front of his face, her normal reaction to his misbehavior. "Ah ah ah," she said. "That's for Mommies to know and little sissy babies to find out. Need help up?" Ella reached down and pulled him to his feet. He stood up, blushed, and straightened his dress. "Now, we have some house work to do before they come. I want you to take up the laundry, sweep and wipe the floor on your hands and knees," "Why my hand's and knees?" he asked. "Why not the mop?" "Yes sissy, on your hands and knees," she aid. "And its because I said so. Then I wand you to clean the bathrooms..." "You know I think it's unfair I clean the thing I'm not allowed to use," he said. She smiled. "You mean like how I clean your butt and pampers ten times a day even though you're the one who uses them?" He stared at her with his mouth open. "Well?" "Touche." "Good girl." "And it's only four," he muttered. "What's that?" "Ummm... nothing Mommy. Thanks for changing my diapers..." "Twelve time... "More like three..." "Fifteen times a day. So, if you are done that, you can clean under the oven and fridge, and use the handheld vacuum to clean the stairs." He thought about her demands. "Mommy, why do all your instructions involve me crouching down?" She laughed. "Obviously just because I love seeing your pretty bum sticking out of your skirt. Now be a good girl and get working," she said, and patted his diaper. He shook his head. He knew she did SOMETHING to him. The question was WHAT. So far, none of the words she used gave him any immediate trigger. He stopped for a second, and waited as if he was refusing her instructions. No part of him felt compelled to move forward. He was obeying her out of his own free will and kink, not due to hypnosis. He thought for a moment. He took out his phone and set it to record. "Hey dumb baby! Hey little sissy! Hey diaper girl!" he said, using the various names they tended to call him. He stopped recording, and played it back. "Hey dumb baby! Hey little sissy! Hey diaper girl!" his phone said. He paused and waited for any instinctual reaction. "Nothing," he said. No impulsive motion, no embarrassing line blurted out, no sudden horniness, no bending over or spanking his own bottom. He heard laughing behind him. His Mommy was leaning against a doorway and watching him from across the house. "You aren't going to figure it out that way baby girl." He waited for a reaction from "baby girl," but got nothing. "Don't you also have chores too, Mommy?" She put a finger to her chin and pretended to think. "Hmmm let me check my list," she took out her phone. "Task one, tell the little subby in diapers to do all the work for me or else I'll spank her. Step two, watch her do the work while I enjoy the site of her skirt rising over her little pampered bottom whenever she bends over." "Hmph, meanie," Tony said, and walked into the laundry room. He looked at laundry machines. The dryer had finished its load, and the basket was on top of it. He reached up to grab it, then lowered it down to the ground. BLARRT! He jumped up as he heard the sound coming from the back of his diaper. He reached behind himself and felt the padding in a panic. It wasn't entirely dirty yet, but he knew he had been close. "What was that!?" He shouted out loud. He looked over his shoulder at Mommy, who was watching while sipping wine. She shrugged and pursed her lips in a feigned confused face. "I don't know. You're in diapers, maybe it just comes out from time to time. Isn't that why you wear them?" "Uh huh," he said, and looked back at the basket. He touched the top of it, and nothing happened. He opened the dryer and grabbed the clothes, and nothing happened. Whatever caused it, it wasn't just doing a chore. That is, if the sudden release WAS from the hypnosis. He pulled the clothes out of the dryer and dropped them into the basket. He squatted down to pick it up, and... BLLARRTT! This time it was louder, and far more extreme. He bolted up, and reached back to feel a sudden lump in his diaper. "MOMMY! WHAT DID YOU DO!?" he shouted. Ella shrugged again. "I didn't do anything. It looks like you just messed your diaper, Ms. Potty Pants." "But..." "Should I get you diapers that say "Potty Pants," on them? They sell those, and it seems fitting." "Har har," he said. He looked at the basket again. Experimentally, he started to slowly squat down to grab the basket. BLLART! He jumped back up again. "Mommy! That's not nice!" he whined, with tears forming in his eyes. "Aww," she said with a fake pout. "What's not nice diaper girl?" "The hypnosis! You made me mess myself every time I squat!"

This might sound counterintuitive but my advice would be to wear more. Yes you're wearing more but in my experience the distraction of wishing you were diapered or think about them is made less.

You basically want to empty your bladder as often as possible, by shrinking the size of your bladder, makes it easier to release more often. A Smaller bladder will also cause your diaper to leak significantly less often, making things easier on you. A few minutes after I get out of the shower, (just before I put on a fresh diaper), I always empty my bladder, (usually into my most recently used diaper.) Having a cup of coffee after a diaper change will pretty much guarantee you'll have a good urge for a wetting within 30 minutes to an hour. It's also good to drink plenty of water during the day, and especially before bedtime to properly unsure your diaper is doomed. For a little back story on me, I went 24/7 before and also during the pandemic because I didn't work from home and my job required me to be constantly on the move. I'm at the point now where I never leave the house without a diaper, it just wouldn't be comfortable without one. I wet often enough that If i'm not wearing I have to constantly focus on holding it, so diapers are just a better option now. I can manage without one, but I've had small accidents on long car rides, discovering a small wet spot on my friend's car seat. I legit didn't even know I wet, which was kind of scary but also exciting providing justification for always being padded. It's good to have an arsenal of different types of diapers for different life situations. Some diapers are for bedtime, where it's okay to be thicker and super comfortable, like (BetterDry and Trest.) Some diapers are good for Daytime wearing around the house, or running errands on your days off from work. (Threaded Armor). And some diapers for wearing to Work, when you need something that won't bulge or break apart, (Total Dry Overnight).

Okay, so tonight I pulled the stent out. Not because it hurt, not because it stopped working. No, I could have gone on for many more weeks if I wanted to. But the thing is, I just didn't want it anymore, that's the only reason. At some point I get tired of leaking all the time, when I am in bed. Peeing with every movement, every cough, fart or deep breath I take. And on top of that, there's my penis that seems to really like the feeling of constant urination, making it want to get hard, which is painful in a diaper. Getting good, deep sleep is the biggest challenge I face with total incontinence. Some nights it works fine, but last night was the straw that broke the camel's back. So I took the stent out and slept like a baby the rest of the night. But after waking up I decided to put the stent back in, so I am comfortably leaking again while I write this message. I guess I prefer daytime incontinence.

Hi young1! How are you doing? I really miss you. Big hugs!🤗♥️ I miss my big brother.🥺 I hope you're doing well!😊

The song will come back to haunt them sooner or later, but no spoiler Chapter 9: Shadows on the campus Evening draped its cool shadows over the campus, blending the day's echoes into the tranquil hum of twilight. The university's spires reached up, piercing the purpling sky, while drones zipped by like mechanical fireflies, casting fleeting glows on ancient stone and sleek metal alike. Adrian and I strolled through this seamless dance of eras, our footsteps echoing off cobblestones that lay nestled between glowing pathways. We were deep in conversation about the chaos we'd witnessed in the cafeteria. "Can you believe it?" Adrian's voice cut through the serenity, sharp as the edge of a well-crafted blade. "In front of everyone, just... losing it. I thought we were beyond such... indignities." I nodded, my mind replaying the girl's face, twisted in horror as control slipped through her fingers like sand. "Yeah," I murmured. "But it could happen to anyone, right?" Adrian scoffed, his voice a mix of arrogance and something else—fear? "Not to me," he declared. "I'm not some helpless kid." We turned a corner, and I caught sight of his gait—a subtle waddle betrayed by the outline of his diaper beneath his pants. I bit back a comment, choosing silence over stirring the pot. I nodded, feeling a pang of something I couldn't name. "Yeah, never imagined it'd be like this." Adrian's gaze stayed fixed on the path ahead. "I saw how they looked at us," he said, his words sharp like flint. "Like we're nothing more than toddlers." * * * The door to the Nest swung open, and there stood Evelyn, her smile as cloying as syrup, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. “Who’s back? My naughty little explorers!” she sang out, treating us like tiny, wayward adventurers just returned from a make-believe quest. We trudged into the room, its walls adorned with murals of playful fox kits, a mocking reminder of our reduced status. Adrian and I exchanged a glance, silently reaffirming our pact to endure this humiliating charade together. Evelyn ushered us to the center, where she began her routine of belittling care. “Okay, Adrian, let’s get you out of these grown-up clothes,” she cooed, as if he were a toddler at bath time. With a theatrical flourish, she undid his shirt buttons, speaking in a sing-song voice. “One, two, three, all the buttons go free!” Then, with an overly enthusiastic clap, she encouraged him to step out of his pants. “Lift up one foot, then the other! Just like a big boy!” Her tone was absurdly patronizing, treating each of Adrian’s actions as though they were noteworthy achievements for a small child. Adrian complied with a hollow, mechanical motion, each movement stripped of adult dignity, recast into the realm of child’s play. His face was an impassive mask, but his eyes, cold and distant, told a story of suppressed frustration and indignation. “Now, let’s see how dry you’ve stayed today,” Evelyn chirped, turning her attention to his diaper with an air of mock suspense. She tsk-tsked in feigned disappointment. “Oh dear, we’re still learning, aren’t we?” When it was my turn, I withstood the infantilizing ritual, trying to maintain a sense of self beneath the demeaning façade. Evelyn’s verdict of “all clean and dry” was delivered with a patronizing pat, leaving me to grapple with the conflicting emotions of relief and humiliation. I muttered, “I got changed earlier,” a feeble attempt at asserting some control over the situation. Evelyn’s gaze was piercing, then softened into a maternal facade. “I know, darling,” she soothed, “That’s very good of you.” Her comforting tone only deepened the sting of our infantilized state. The room closed in around me, every playful fox on the wall seeming to mock my predicament. I could feel Adrian's eyes on me, the same piercing blue that mirrored the judgment I feared from Evelyn. "I had to get changed at the end of my exams," I blurted out, my voice a mix of defiance and resignation. "The proof system caught me off guard." Evelyn's eyebrows arched in mock surprise, a performance so well-rehearsed it could've fooled an audience into thinking she cared. "Oh? And how did that go for you?" I locked eyes with her, my jaw set. "Aiden took care of it." The words tasted like vinegar on my tongue. "He made sure I was... presentable." Adrian let out a scoff, his face twisting into a smirk. "Sounds like you've made a new friend." I shook my head, frustration simmering beneath my skin. "It's not like that," I snapped back. The heat of embarrassment flushed my cheeks. "He was just doing what this place expects of him." Evelyn circled us, her presence like a vulture waiting to feast on any shred of dignity we had left. "Well," she cooed, laying a hand on my shoulder with a weight that felt like iron chains, "it's good to know our staff is so attentive." Her touch made me want to shrug her off, but I stood still, every muscle tensed. Adrian's eyes were still on me, but now there was something else in them—a flicker of understanding or maybe just shared contempt for our situation. "Yeah," I said through gritted teeth, forcing myself to meet Evelyn's gaze. "Real attentive." The door closed behind us with a soft click that echoed louder in my mind than it should have. Evelyn's voice followed us, sugary and insistent. "Now off you go, my little gentlemen. Time for your showers!" Water drummed against the tiles, steam curling up in thick tendrils. I slipped into a shower cubicle, eager for a moment of solitude, but my escape was cut short. A sharp twist on my ear had me yelping. "Whaaa, hey! It hurts... stop it!" Adrian towered over me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What are you trying to do, little brother of mine?" I glared up at him, rubbing my ear. He was playing his role as the 'big brother' a little too well. I realized this was payback for my earlier boast about staying dry—a game of one-upmanship that I wasn't keen on losing. With a huff, I crossed my arms and pouted, sinking into the role he cast me in. "I was gonna clean myself!" My voice pitched higher, feigning indignation. Adrian's smirk grew. "Oh really? 'Cause it looked like you were about to make another mess." I stomped my foot, water splashing around us. "Was not!" He ruffled my wet hair, almost affectionately. "Sure, sure. But you know I've gotta make sure you're squeaky clean. Can't have you running around like a scruffy little pup." I stuck out my tongue but couldn't help the grin that broke through my act. Adrian's teasing had a way of lightening the mood, even in the most embarrassing circumstances. "Fine," I grumbled playfully. "But I get to clean your ears after." He chuckled, the sound rich and warm against the patter of the shower. "Deal, kiddo." The steam from the shower clung to my skin as I stepped out, toweling off with brisk motions. I avoided looking at Adrian, knowing he'd have some smug remark ready about my thorough scrub-down. The warmth of the water had washed away some of the day's grime and disgrace, but the humiliation clung tighter than any dirt could. Evelyn was waiting, a stack of thick nighttime diapers beside her. She approached with that same syrupy smile plastered on her face, the one that seemed to stretch wider with every inch of our dignity she stripped away. "Alright boys, time to get you both ready for beddy-bye," she cooed, and I felt my cheeks flush with a fresh wave of embarrassment. I couldn't meet Adrian's eyes as we lay down on the changing mats. The crinkle of the plastic backing echoed through the room as Evelyn unfolded the diapers with practiced ease. The padding felt like a pillow between my legs, forcing them apart in a way that was both alien and intrusive. The tapes secured with a finality that made my stomach churn. Next came the footed pajamas, babyish in design and snug around the bulky diaper. I glanced at Adrian and saw my own mortification mirrored back at me. We were two grown men dressed as oversized toddlers, our autonomy tucked away for the night along with our street clothes. Evelyn guided us to our cribs—lofty beds with transparent sides that served as constant reminders of our juvenile status. With a click, the latches locked into place, sealing us in. She dimmed the lights and left us there, swaddled in padding and silence. Adrian shifted in his crib across from me, his face shadowed but his disgruntlement clear as day. "Can't believe we're stuck in these," he muttered, rustling his diaper loudly. "Yeah," I replied, my voice a low grumble. "Feels like wearing a cushion around your waist." We lay there in our separate cribs, the quiet punctuated by the occasional crinkle of our diapers whenever one of us moved. It was ridiculous—two young men reduced to sleeping in oversized cribs and diapers designed for giants' children. Despite the indignity of it all, exhaustion pulled at my eyelids like lead weights. The day had been long and draining, filled with new humiliations at every turn. I closed my eyes, surrendering to sleep's embrace. In moments, sleep claimed us both, deep and dreamless. We were lost to the world around us—two figures locked away in cribs, still smarting from the padding of our nighttime diapers. * * * Evelyn sat in the cafeteria, a delicate cup of tea cradled between her slender fingers. Across from her, Dr. Melissa Cartwright, a fellow PhD candidate, nibbled on a dainty sandwich as they chatted about their research. The hum of conversation around them provided a comforting white noise to their academic discourse. "You really think that classical conditioning can be taken to such an extent?" Melissa asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Evelyn's lips curved into a half-smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, Melissa, it's not just about what I think. It's about what I've observed. The potential for control is... exquisite." Melissa shook her head, amused by Evelyn's fervor. "You're so passionate about this; it's almost scary." The chime of an incoming email broke the rhythm of their banter. Evelyn excused herself and glanced at her device, her expression unreadable as she read the message from Miss Thorne. Evelyn’s heart quickened at the prospect—this was precisely the kind of opportunity she relished. Power played out in subtle ways; she could almost taste the influence she would wield through this transaction. "I have to take care of this," Evelyn murmured to Melissa, standing up with the grace of someone accustomed to navigating the world on her own terms. "Everything alright?" Melissa asked, noticing the sudden change in Evelyn's demeanor. "Better than alright," Evelyn replied cryptically. "Opportunities knocking at our door should always be answered." * * * In the shadowed recesses of Emerson University's surveillance center, a symphony of beeps and clicks played out like a mechanical orchestra. Argos, parsed through streams of data with an efficiency that bordered on the supernatural. Another transmission sparked across its sensors, patterns within it resisting every attempt at decryption. "Curious," Argos mused in its synthesized voice, a facsimile of human curiosity woven into its tone. "An origin point remains elusive." Its many eyes—cameras and sensors dotted throughout the campus—flickered as it cast its digital gaze over the possible sources. It dissected conversations, email exchanges, even the silent whispers of radio frequencies. Each piece of information folded into the next, an intricate origami of suspicion and strategy. Argos's suspicion narrowed onto a particular role within the university's ecosystem—the Nest Mothers. Their nurturing position and close proximity to potential targets made them both above suspicion and perfectly placed for subterfuge. A virtual hand maneuvered through holographic interfaces, composing a message to Dean Norris. The message shimmered into being on her desk, a silent sentinel awaiting attention. Dean Norris sat behind her grand oak desk when the alert chimed softly. She peered at the holographic text floating above her tablet with an intensity that belied her calm exterior. "Another transmission?" she mumbled to herself, tapping a nail against the polished wood. "Intriguing." Her voice filled the spacious office as she activated her comm-link. "Argos, elaborate." "The content remains encrypted," Argos replied, its voice filling the room with an ambient resonance. "However, behavioral analysis suggests potential involvement from within our Nest Mother cadre." "A Nest Mother?" Norris's brow furrowed beneath her stern facade. "That would be most... unfortunate." "Indeed," Argos agreed. "I suggest vigilance in monitoring their communications closely." "Understood." The dean paused for a moment before adding, "Any suspects?" "Not at present," admitted Argos. "Patterns are emergent but not definitive." "We can't take chances." Norris stood up, pacing slowly. "Keep an eye on all Nest Mothers' activities—discreetly." "Discretion is my protocol," assured Argos. "And I'll handle this personally," declared Norris with a hint of steel in her voice. "We cannot allow any threat to fester under our care." The conversation ended with a mutual understanding—the safety and integrity of Emerson University were paramount. They would find this elusive mole, no matter how well they hid among the caretakers and guides of their precious Littles. Dean Norris tapped a sequence of commands into her interface, her face a mask of resolute determination. "Activate Protocol blue lagoon," she instructed Argos, her voice devoid of the warmth it carried when addressing her students. Argos responded instantaneously, its synthetic voice betraying no emotion. "Protocol blue lagoon has been initiated. Measures are underway." She leaned back in her chair, eyes tracing the digital lines of code cascading down her screen—each line a testament to the gravity of the situation. This protocol wasn't initiated lightly; it was reserved for threats that could undermine the very fabric of their institution. The dean exhaled, a whisper of sound in the quiet office. She pressed a hidden button beneath her desk, and a panel slid open to reveal a secure line—a direct connection to those who stood in the shadows, wielding influence with discreet efficiency. "They need to know," she murmured, acknowledging the silent guardians who protected Emerson from unseen dangers. She detailed Argos's findings in hushed tones, her words precise and calculated. "There's been another encrypted message," she explained. "Argos suspects an internal breach." The response from the other end was measured, a voice tempered by years of navigating treacherous waters. "We will increase our oversight," they assured her. "Trust in our vigilance." Norris nodded to herself, feeling a grim sense of camaraderie with these unseen allies. They were united in their resolve to protect the university from any and all threats. As she severed the connection, Argos chimed in once more. "Dean Norris, surveillance has intensified per your directive." "Good," she replied, her gaze hardening as she considered the potential traitor among them. "And the Nest Mothers?" "All communications are being monitored," Argos confirmed. "Anomalies will be reported immediately." She steepled her fingers before her lips, deep in thought. The Nest Mothers were crucial to their community's structure—caregivers and enforcers in one. The idea that one of them could be compromised was more than troubling; it was a breach that struck at the heart of their society. "Keep me updated on any developments," Norris instructed before rising from her chair. The sun had fully set now, and darkness filled her office—a darkness that seemed symbolic of the threat lurking within their walls. As she stepped out into the evening air, Dean Norris carried with her a sense of foreboding that reached beyond the confines of Emerson University's grand architecture. Whoever was behind these transmissions had just become an unwitting participant in a dangerous game—one that Dean Norris was determined to win.

The Train Journey The young man boarded the train; it was only to journey to the next town, which would, with occasional station stops, take a little less than half an hour. All the seats were taken apart from one opposite a much older man but, as it was also a window seat, he took it before his chance to sit for the entire trip was taken by another passenger. He smoothly glided into his seat and caught the eye of his fellow passenger who nodded politely with the trace of a smile. They sat for a while until they both heard the whistle blow and the train slowly begin to leave the station. The older man smiled and nodded in acknowledgement to his follow traveller as it stuttered to a start and then slowly began to roll away from the platform. He’d noticed as the lad (for in his aged eyes that’s really what the young man looked like), the slight rustling sound as he sat down and the smooth bulky shape to his bum and crotch. The older man knew immediately that the nice young person opposite was wearing padding. The young man had brought nothing with him, not even ear-buds, to while away the time so interested himself in the view as the outside passed by. This gave the older man a little more time to scrutinise his much younger tripper. He noticed that the young man (boy in his book) looked, at a push, to be in his early twenties. His facial hair was bitty and not very consequential and spoiled an otherwise cute, blemish-free face. His hair was an untidy mop but suited him and had small hands with well-manicured fingers. He didn’t look particularly sporty, but that could have been because of the loose green fleece he was wearing, though his pale brown chinos tightened as he sat in place and displayed the sweet bulge at his padded crotch. A smile danced in the older man’s head as he began to think of starting a conversation with his journeyman (boy). He thought he’d be direct and hope for the best. “Excuse me young man,” the older man tried to get the lad’s attention. It took a couple of whispered starts before acknowledging he was being spoken to. His mother hadn’t brought him up to be an ignoramus or blank the older generation but he really just wanted his own thoughts for the journey. He was already out of his comfort zone wearing what he was wearing and although he was enjoying the feeling and his own bravery of being out and about in public, he was still a little apprehensive about the entire trip. This was his first time dressed as he was and it had taken a great deal of soul-searching and several attempts before he’d been brave enough to slip into something he’d wanted to do for ages. A new store was having its grand opening in the next town over and was offering a ‘special edition’ t-shirt to the first one hundred customers. It wasn’t that he was obsessed with t-shirts but had used the excuse to exit the house so his parents didn’t see what he was wearing, just in case they noticed something different. His nerves had been jangling from the moment he’d got up and decided that this was going to be the day. The pack of disposables he’d purchased online had arrived over a month ago but had still been too scared to wear them but... today was that day. Taping himself into the plasticky padding and feeling the warm hug as they’d tightened the material around him had been both wonderful but terrifying in case of discovery. He was lucky, no one saw, and to make sure no one did he wanted to exit the house as quickly as possible, sure that once he was away from his parents surveillance no one else would be aware. Anyway he was wearing what he was wearing now and was safely on his way to another town where no one knew him. He’d loved the feeling as he’d walked to the station and had enjoyed the sweet rustling sound that accompanied each stride. The full feeling between his legs had comforted him but still, anxiety was in his head and he hoped not to have to speak with anyone. But he was here now and wriggled a little uneasily as the man spoke. “Yes, hello, but tell me... do you wear a nappy for medical reasons or for fun?” The older man had spoken low but he hadn’t misheard him and blood rushed to his face. “I, errr, ummm...” Oh God, Oh God, Oh God - the young man thought but dare not speak. This was a mistake, he knew it would be and... The older man could see the lad had flushed bright crimson under his ‘innocent’ question. He also noticed him look around, maybe to try and find a way of escape or was he merely making sure no one else had heard the question. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you... well... not much, “ the older man whispered his tease, “but I certainly wouldn’t want my little boy to be out on his own, he’d be under constant supervision from mummy or daddy.” The young man felt trapped. Caught like a deer in headlights he just couldn’t move. The older man had cut straight to the bone and knew... but how? “Don’t worry, the people around us aren’t listening or I would suspect be that bothered... surprisingly, people aren’t usually bothered but some little boys do get a little bit agitated when their secret is uncovered. I wouldn’t let that happen to my little boy that’s for sure.” The redness in the boy’s cheeks was beginning to fade although his breathing was a bit tight. “I just want to say I think it’s wonderful for a boy your age to venture out in your lovely padding.” He saw the boy swallow hard but still didn’t speak. “What is your favoured brand of nappy - fabric or disposable?” The boy wriggled uneasily. “I love to see any little one in lovely thick and colourful disposables like REARZ or CUDDLZ... you know the ones with all the little characters charging around; makes them look both cute and juvenile, which of course is exactly how it should be.” The older man seemed really at ease talking of such things. Despite this not only being a one way and awkward conversation the boy wondered how the man knew he was wearing a thick disposable with little baby bears wearing nappies frolicking around it. However, the man had more to say. “Do you wear plastic pants over them? I mean, personally I think it’s a very sensible precaution to take as you never know when the little one needs that little bit of extra help with leaks.” The older man chuckled slightly, “Yes slipping daddy’s, or mummy’s, little baby into his fresh morning nappy and pulling a nice bright and shiny slippery pair of vinyl pants over for added security would be a must.” By now the young man was caught up in what the older man was saying and although full of anxiety he was being held spellbound by what was being said. “I think a baby should be loved and looked after and that’s a twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week job. Their sweet little body should be kept smooth and hair-free and a nice big paci should always be available for when the little one frets or needs calming. Like now, with you.” He smiled a knowing smile. “Yes, it would be a privilege to keep the little one all clean and tidy, happily engaged in play and... well... let’s take this journey for instance.” He saw the boy opposite shimmy in his seat a little as if he was relaxing... even if only slightly. “Now a little boy of mine would have a big colouring book and some crayons to help pass the time as we travel to our destination. Seeing him sucking on his paci as he concentrated on making sure his crayons kept inside the guidelines... that would be a wonderful sight.” The boy was really quite stunned by the way this unexpected conversation was going and oddly enough he felt his boyhood begin to grow in the folds of his colourful disposable. He tried to inconspicuously wriggle to release it owing to being trapped and sticking down as it tried to rise up. However, there was no doubt about it, the old man seemed to know exactly what he’d dreamed of for some time now. “Of course,” a wrinkled smile caused his eyes to twinkle, “night time and any little baby should be wrapped in the comforting hug of a lovely thick and fleecy fabric nappy; one that soaks up and holds any and all of the little cuties night time accidents. However, that should all follow a lovely warm and comforting bubble bath where the little one could play with his toys and let mummy or daddy bathe and sponge him all nice and clean.” The boy opposite felt a throb behind his nappy. “Once all lovingly rubbed down in a lovely thick towel they’d be smothered in lotion and have their special baby parts all nicely powdered before being dressed for nice long sleepy-byes. Everything would be kept in place by a colourful onesie that fastens between their legs to hold the nappy firmly up and snugly against the sweet little thing.” About this time, as the train pulled into one of the local urban stations, the boy wished he had a paci. It was true he’d thought about getting one but was scared that his parents might find it and... well... he had the same fear about buying the disposable he was now wearing and that step had taken both a great deal of time and worry. But the man was still talking as folk got off and on the train, which then carried on to its next destination. “So then... plastic pants?” The man asked whilst nodding in the direction of the boy’s crotch. The young man sorrowfully shook his head “no” as if he felt guilty by such neglect. He still couldn’t speak but nor could he run away because this conversation had stirred up so many thoughts in his head... and crotch. He needed to relieve the pressure, and pain, his growing but scrunched-up penis was causing. He knew he was leaking and as such was grateful to his decision to wear padding but it was now getting awkward and uncomfortable in that area. “You seem a little uncomfortable...” it was as if the old man could read his mind, “please don’t be afraid of getting things rearranged... no boy should be uncomfortable when wearing his favourite nappy.” The boy looked around to see if there was anyone staring in their direction, thankfully, the coast was clear and was able to do a quick manipulation. What a relief - but now the curvy front bulge under his brown chinos was even more pronounced by the released stiff penis. “That’s what a lovely cosy nappy will do to a boy if he’s not under constant supervision.” He leant in closer to confide in the lad. “Sometimes, a boy needs to be protected from himself and a nice thick and tightly wrapped nappy, encased in thick rubber pants and wearing a sweet pair of restrictive mittens will keep him from being too grown up when all that self-touching is so unnecessary.” With the release of his bunched up penis he hadn’t realised his bladder was also calling for relief and he shot a stream of warm pee straight into the folds of his disposable. He tried to keep the look from his face but was unable to stop the flow, which of course the man opposite noticed. “Now, that should be under a daddy or mummy’s control. A little baby needs their protection, love and control to make sure they stay the sweet little thing they want to be. Maybe, what some boys and girls need is restricted access and firm control... maybe a bottom needs a spanking first to achieve this.” The older man looked him straight in the eye as if challenging the boy whose features unfortunately gave the game away. He saw the boy physically shake and knew that he’d just spurted a milky load into the front of his newly soaked nappy. The older man sat back and let the boy recuperate as the train began to slow down on its approach to yet another small urban station. “Well thank you young man for a most enjoyable chat. You’ve made this regular but boring journey special.” He got up and smiled his thanks then departed the scene. His seat was quickly taken by someone else, a lady in her fifties. Meanwhile, the boy still had another stop to go before he completed his journey, although in many ways, he already had. ####

Chapter Thirteen Jen’s parent’s house was not that far, about a twenty-minute drive from our house, but Jen added one very embarrassing pit stop at a store. “Are you sure you want to stay in the SUV?” Jen asked a second time to make sure I did not change my mind. “Yes, I do not need to pick out my pull-up, I will be grateful for whatever you pick,” I told her, fully embarrassed she would even think I would want to come in with her. However, my last comment seemed to put a peculiar smile on her face. “Really? I get to pick whatever designs I think are the cutest. Even the cute princess ones?” she asked in a way to excited voice. My eyes got big when I processed what she said, “What? I thought I was getting just regular adult pull-ups?” I said confused. Jen just busted up laughing, “Baby, you are small enough to fit plenty well in the youth pull-up, plus they are so much better than the adult ones. And they are cuter too,” she said trying to calm herself from her laughing fit. “But I promise to get the boy ones, I don’t need you giving me any more reasons not to wear them.” I still could see her giggling as she left me in the SUV to go into the store. Unfortunately, I still did not have my phone and she took her purse and phone in with her, so I was stuck just sitting and waiting. It only took a couple of songs on the radio before I saw Jen walking back with a bag in her hands. The pull-ups were covered by the bag they sat in when she deposited them in the back seat before hopping back in the driver’s seat. I tried to see what design she picked out before I turned to look at her when I heard her buckle up and put the SUV in gear. “Only one pack?” I asked. Jen pulled out of the parking lot and back on track to her parents’ house. “Don’t worry, if you need more, I will get you more,” she said in response to my question. “Your pull-ups are a little bit easier to get at the store than your diapers I like you in. Also, remember, your pull-ups are just a stepping stone to help in your diaper training,” she said, reminding me of our earlier conversation. “I remember Mommy,” I said with a sigh, turning my head to look at the road. “And I am I am to come to you when I need to use the potty.” I felt Jen rub my knee to try and comfort me. “Are you ok, Charlie,” Jen asked, stealing a glance at me before her eyes turned back to the road. “You seem a little unsettled, do you not want to wear the pull-ups?” she asked with a cautious voice. I waited a moment before responding, “Doe’s Mr. Calegari really know I wear diapers and pee the bed?” I said, answering her question with another question. “Oh, that is what this is about,” Jen said, realizing my nervousness. “To be blunt, yes, daddy knows about your bedwetting. He also knows you are adult enough to own up and take care of your issues,” Jen said, trying to stay honest with me. Her honesty was comforting but still, I was nervous to confront him again. I looked down and put my tiny hands on hers which was still resting on my knee, “He even knows about. . .” I said, starting to trail off in my thoughts. “Baby,” she started to gently say, bringing my attention back to her with a soft squeeze on my knee. “He knows everything, and he knows how much joy and happiness you bring me.” I just stared at Jen, taking in her beauty and confidence. “Don’t worry my little one, I will be with you, and if I get too distracted talking to my mother, you will also have Alice there too.” I took comfort in Jen, she was my rock, I am not sure I could do this without her. I don’t think I would do it without her, to be honest. Before I knew it, we were pulling up the long driveway to Calegari’s estate, it never failed to impress me every time I was here. Jen's parents did not live in the largest house on the street, but they did not live in the smallest. As the SUV came to a stop, I waited for Jen to kill the engine before undoing my seatbelt and hopping out. Jen was there waiting for me on the other side of the vehicle, waiting for me to grab her free hand. My diaper bag which I seemed to have forgotten was slung over Jen’s other shoulder with her purse, being held in place with her other hand. She just smiled at me before leading up to the front door, which magically opened at the same time we reached it, showing a very excited Mrs. Calegari holding the door. Mr. Calegari was there, calm, cool, and collected like he always was. “Isabella, you need to calm down, if he runs away, I will blame you,” I heard Nichola say. He was even taller than Jen and Alice, standing at a whopping six foot three inches and well-built for his age. He dressed in khakis and one of his golf shirts, with well-groomed salt and pepper hair. There was no question about where Jen got her height from. I watched Isabella take her eyes off me and give Nichola an evil glare before retorting, “You better be careful before you find yourself eating on the back patio by yourself!” Isabella was almost an older twin to my wife, outside of a few aging lines. I had also never seen one grey hair on Isabella’s head which added to your youthful look, though I am nearly positive it was her persistence that kept it that way. Isabella was closer to five foot ten inches with a slender frame, supporting a floral dress, cut like Jen’s but with no sleeves. I watched Nichola roll his eyes before muttering, “Only if that was true.” “Hush you,” Isabella said before turning back to Jen and me. “Now don’t you two look just darling, come on in and relax. Jennifer how was the drive?” she started to say before taking a breath to continue nagging Jen. “I saw Charlie get out of the front seat, why is he not sitting in the back? He is still too small for that, let alone your persistence in not putting him in the car seat I gave you.” Isabella did let us get through the door, shutting it behind us, but I could see the irritation in Jen’s eyes when she heard what her mother was saying. As far as me, Isabella commented here or there in the past about me being too small for the front seat, but I did not know she went as far as getting me a car seat, that was new to me. As I was about to look to see where Nichola was going I felt Jen firmly pull me behind her. “Mother please, I told you do not smother him,” Jen said firmly to Isabella. From my view behind Jen, I saw Isabella look appalled to hear her daughter talk to her that way, “You have me hold my tongue all these years and now that you finally pull the veil I still can not talk about little Charlie as your baby boy?” “Yes, the veil is lifted, and he knows that you are aware that he is my little and I am his Mommy. . .” I heard Jen start to say quickly in an even tone before getting interrupted. “Which makes me Grammy, and I want to smother my little Charlie,” Isabella said, cutting Jen off. Suddenly I felt myself being pulled away from Jen. With a quick startled glance in my captor's direction, I noticed it was Alice pulling me away from the two arguing titans. I glanced back at Jen quickly before Alice caught my attention again. “You don’t want to say there, squirt, I promise you that. That conversation was years in the making,” Alice said with the same level of annoyance as I had seen in Nichola, leading me to another room. “Conversation? Sounds more like a fight if you ask me.” I said looking back over my shoulder, losing sight of Jen. Once I looked forward again, I started to realize that Alice was taking Nichola’s large study. I kept a hold of Alice’s hand out of habit that Jen instilled in me, but it let me look around the massive room without watching where I was walking. This room had books lining the walls with beautiful French doors capable of closing off the back more formal office portion from the more relaxed lounging part that you first walk into. The room was currently fully open, showcasing the expensive matching furniture, warming the air with its deep earthy colors. I felt Alice stop before noticing that this was also the same room Nickola escaped to. I quickly pulled my hand from Alice’s, causing her to giggle as she sat down in one of the three cushy chairs that sat in a half circle in front of Nichola’s large oak desk. Nickola was walking over to the corner where he kept his scotch. “I rescued Squirt here from the two raptors there in your front room,” I heard Alice say to her father. I glanced at Alice before turning my attention back to Nichola, watching him pour the amber liquid into three glasses. “Well good, you just may have saved Charlie here from needing an early diaper change,” I heard Nichola say in response before grabbing all three glasses of scotch and walking over to where Alice sat, and I stood. His comment threw me off a bit, but it confirmed that he knew all about my little secret. “I doubt it is that bad, though it did seem pretty intense,” I said, joining in on the conversation. Jen had always reassured me that Nichola liked me, but I still liked to keep a healthy level of respect for him, especially since I knew my career was literally in his hands due to his funding half of my company's start-up cost. Nichola handed me the first glass before turning to his daughter and giving her a glass. “You don’t understand the gravity of the situation and the intensity of our wives,” he said before sitting down next to Alice in one of the cushy chairs. I sat down in the last of the three cushy chairs, on the other side of Alice, before holding up the glass of scotch and saying, “Thanks Mr. Calegari,” Nichola was quick to respond to me in a firm tone, “Mr. Finlay, how many times do I have to tell you, please call me by my first name outside of work.” I held an even face and said, “Sorry, Nichola, I did not mean to let it slip.” Both of us knew it was no slip, but me just trying to be respectful, he had been trying to get me to loosen up for years. He has resorted to calling me Mr. Finlay, what I consider my father's name, to match my stubbornness. After a small sip of his drink, Nichola went on to say, “So, Alice here tells me you are finally taking some time off for yourself.” I assumed that Nichola was not interested in the details of the past few days and was just trying to make small talk. He also always took an interest in my career, and with Alice being my business partner it was only natural for him to know that I was getting forced to take time off. “Yeah, Jen and Alice finally convinced me to take some time off, though I am still not sure what to do. Jen is working from home more but still working while I am off, I doubt I will be going anywhere,” I said with a smile and a little bit of a chuckle. “Hah,” Alice said laughing, making Nichola and Me look at her. “There was no convincing about it, Jen scolded you on taking care of yourself and how you should take time for yourself outside of work,” she said to me before sipping on her drink and turning to her father. “I even had to take his keys and practically kick him out. He was originally going to start vacation on Thursday but said he needed to come in on Friday and tidy things up.” “Well, I can understand that. The man has found his passion, it's hard to pull away from something like that,” Nichola said to Alice before turning to me. “But my girls are right, it's important to not burn yourself out. Isabella practically did the same when I was your age and trying to make a name for myself at the law firm.” “No worries, I am far from burnt out, but I will make sure to heed your advice,” I said in response to Nichola. However, I am sure if he knew the whole picture of my situation, he would not compare it so closely. “And Jen did not scold me, we had a conversation,” I said to Alice trying to soften her blunt truth about my one-sided conversation with Jen. “Charlie, I thought you liked Scotch?” Nichola said, questioning why I hadn’t touched my drink. I was about to say something before Alice started to talk before I could, “Did you not get permission from Jennifer to drink tonight?” she asked me. “I do not need ‘permission’,” I said to Alice with a sarcastic scowl. I softened my face before telling them both confidently, “I told Jen I would let her know before I drank alcohol.” I watched as Nichola just chuckled. “You don’t have to worry, Jennifer made sure to email Isabella and me a copy of the rules you two are following. Consider your self-granted permission,” I froze for a second, processing his words, before taking a drink of scotch to ease my nerves and keep myself from blushing. “Of course,” was all I could say, shaking my head in disbelief. I felt Alice’s hand on my knee, keeping me from clamming up. “Charlie, Dad has always known about you and Jen's little dynamic,” Alice started to tell me, using my name to make sure I knew she was sincere. “Dad does not care; he sees how happy you make my sister. He is just trying to make light of the situation to ease the tension.” “To be honest Charlie,” Nichola started to say to get my attention, “It's not me you need to worry about, I know you are a good man.” I watched him take another sip of scotch before adding, “Isabella on the other hand, is who you need to be concerned with.” I followed suit and took another drink myself before diving back into the conversation, “Ya, I heard a little bit of before Alice dragged me away” I could only smile at the position I was finding myself in, “Dinner is going to be interesting isn’t it.” I see Nichola open his mouth but then turn his head toward the door, Alice and I do the same. We all watched as Isabella came strolling in with a dignified smile on her face, that was till she saw the glass of amber liquid in my hands. “What are you drinking young man?” she asked me. Without giving me one second to answer, she turned to Nichola and said, “Did you give him alcohol?” “Yes Isabella, I gave my son-in-law alcohol,” Nichola said bluntly without flinching. Isabella turned back to me and quickly quizzed me, “Did you ask your mommy first?” I was only slightly stunned and was quickly searching for the right answer to defuse the situation. “Isabella, I permitted him,” Nichola said as he got up to pour a second glass of scotch. “And to be honest, the poor man is going to need it.” I was thankful for Nichola taking the heat off me, Isabell turned back to him to rebuttal his remark, “What do you mean he is going to need it?” Isabella apparently did not want to wait for a response, she turned back to me took my glass from my hand, and gave it to Alice. “You and your father are being a bad influence on little Charlie,” she said directing her comment to Alice. Isabella turned to grab my hand and pulled me to my feet, “Come on sweety, those two are only going to get you into trouble.” Isabella may have been a lot smaller the Jen, but I still could not pull my hand from her grip. I looked to Alice to save me, but she did not move, and when I looked back to Nichola he was still busying himself with his drink. I tried to lengthen my stride to keep up with Isabella, but she did not slow down till we were out of the study. “Do you know where Jen is?” I asked my mother-in-law, trying not to sound nervous. Isabella slowed down to a slow walk and looked down at me, “Stop being disrespectful, your ‘Mommy’ is in the kitchen helping me cook. I was going to come in and ask you if you wanted a snack before dinner but since clearly can not be trusted with those two, you can come hand out with your Mommy and Grammy.” Isabella just smiled at me and kept my hand in hers as she led the way. Was I hearing this right, did she expect me to call her Grammy? I was going to need to talk to Jen about this, I know she and Alice mentioned it but still. As I followed Isabella, the same question started to repeat itself in my head, did he not see me as an adult? I know I was a bit on the short side, but I am a grownup. Nichola and Alice treated me as an adult and so did Jen, outside of our unique relationship. After following Isabella through a couple of doors I finally spotted Jen, and true to her word, was in the kitchen. Once I saw her, I tried to free my hand once more but was still stuck in Isabella’s grasp. We stopped just inside the door, but as Jen saw me, she started to dry her hands off and make her way to us. “Little Charlie, do you have something to say to your Mommy?” Isabella told me as a statement more than a question. I only took my eyes off Jen to look at Isabella confused. “Tell Mommy what you were drinking,” she instructed me. I looked at Jen with longing eyes, my strong and assertive demeanor slowly fading. “Mommy, I was drinking scotch with Nichola and Alice,” I informed Jen, trying to give her the whole picture. “Did you get your own glass or did my father give you a glass?” Jen asked me gently, trying to get more information. “It does not matter Jennifer, he did not ask your permission,” Isabella answered for me flatly. Jen did not even take her eyes off me, she just waited for me to answer her. “It was given to me,” I told her honestly. My nerves were starting to ease as I saw Jen's eyes soften. Jen just smiled and turned her head to her mother, “I don’t see any issue, Daddy gave him the drink, and they normally have a drink or two anyway on Sundays.” As Jen said that I felt the grip on my hand loosen. I took my freedom and stepped beside Jen, to be honest, I wanted to hide behind her, but I refused to let Isabella see me as weak. Jen put her arm around me and continued to talk, “Mom, we just got done having this conversation. Charlie is ‘My’ husband, and ‘My’ little. Not yours, you will respect that and quit being extra.” I watched Jen shut Isabella down, she then turned to me, “Baby, will you please go get Daddy and Alice, and tell them that dinner is ready?” I looked Jen in the eye and told her, “Yes, Ma’am.” But before I could step off Jen held onto my shoulder and bent down to whisper in my ear, “I can tell your diaper is still dry, take this time to potty.” She let me go and sent me on my way with a gentle pat on the butt. As I exited the kitchen and made my back to the study, I tried to take Jen’s suggestion. I did not need to pee, but it was not like I could go, so I just took a breath and tried to walk a little slower. There was not much time between the kitchen and the study, so I knew I was going to have to make things work if I was going to do this. I was near the door to the study when I just stopped and closed my eyes and did my best to just let go. It was easier to do at home, but I was currently by myself, so I tried to just be in the moment Eventually, I was able to feel things starting and getting warm, I did not need to go much but I made a small dent. When I opened my eyes, I saw Nichola and Alice standing in front of me, coming out of the study. I stood there like a deer in the headlight, “You going potty, squirt?” Alice asked as she approached me, placing her hand on the front of my crotch feeling my freshly wet diaper. “Good job,” she praised as she tussled my hair and walked past me towards the kitchen. My head followed her as she passed, still in a bit of shock at what I just did in front of them. Well, I am more embarrassed that I did it in front of Nichola, which made me turn back to him to see him wink at me. “Good job, buddy, Jen will be pleased,” he said as grabbed my shoulder to spin me around. Nichola kept his hand on my back, guiding me along, though his pace was a lot more manageable than Isabella’s, despite our massive height difference. “I hope Isabella was not mean to you, she does mean well,” he said gently as we walked together. “By the way, dinner is done,” I tried to say confidently. Nichola just chuckled, “We figured it had to be close to being done, that is why Alice and I have come out to investigate.” “Don’t lie, Dad,” Alice said in front of us. “You were worried Mom was tormenting your poor little Charlie.” It was hard to stay resilient with that comment. I could not help but look up to see Nichola’s face, and to my surprise I found him glancing down to give me another wink before looking forward again. This cannot be happening. Alice led us into the dining room where I found Isabella setting the table and Jen bringing in the food that was cooked. “Everyone hungry?” Isabella asked us all. I watched Alice put her nose in the air and say, “Is that my sister's famous garlic potatoes I smell?” “It all smells wonderful,” Nichola said making his way into the kitchen, leaving me in the dining room with the rest. “What do you want to drink, Charlie?” I was about to respond before Jen spoke for me, “Don’t worry Daddy, I will get it.” As Jen followed Nichola into the kitchen, I turned to find my normal spot at the large rectangular table. I looked over the spread and found not only my wife’s delicious potatoes but also baked chicken, Brussels sprouts, and fresh rolls. The food all smelled good, but it just looked overwhelming, I was glad that I was able to skip lunch. Soon everyone made their way to the table, Nichola sat at the head of the table with Isabella to his right and me to his left. Alice sat next to her mother and Jen sat next to me. Jen got us both water to drink, she also let me drink out of a normal cup with no lid. Everyone else was drinking sweet tea, which I did not like, I preferred unsweetened personally, so water was my normal at Sunday dinner. After Grace was done, I watched everyone start to juggle the food around, filling their plates. When I first started to join them for the Sunday dinners I would fill my own plate, and Isabella often said I did not take enough and forced me to put too much food on my plate, which caused me to not be able to finish all my food. There were quite a few times I was the last one done, with Isabella insisting that I try and eat as much as I could. When Jen started to take a more active role in my eating habits, she also started to help me fill my plate at Sunday dinner, which prevented Isabella from bullying me into putting more food than I could eat on my plate. It did make me feel juvenile, but it was way better than the alternative. “Would you like a roll, sweetie?” Jen asked me as she started to fill my plate. “No thanks,” I told her, as I spotted my mother-in-law look at me. Out of the recent events today I was starting to be a bit timid around her. Luckily, I had Jen sitting beside me, I put one of my hands on Jen's lap, to try and borrow her courage. “Jennifer, honey, he needs. . .” was all I heard Isabella say before seeing Jen look up at her in a scowl. “Isabella, this is the last time I am going to say this,” Nichola started to say, making me look in his direction. With an even but firm tone, he went on to say, “Leave the poor boy alone, Jennifer is doing a good job herself in mothering over him. He does not need two nagging women trying to control him.” I watched Jen and Nichola lock eyes after his comment, but no words were exchanged, just a silent argument between two alfas. But the tension in the air did settle and was back at a more normal tone. Even though I wanted to go hide under a rock due to the recent events, I was still the first one to break the silence. The was only one house rule to follow, no talking about work at Sunday dinner, it was supposed to be about family getting together, not business. “So, Nichola, how is the golf swing coming along.” After clearing his mouth Nichola responded, “Not too bad, the boys and I did a couple of rounds of eighteen last weekend and almost made the top score.” “Nice,” I said in between bites of food. “Yeah, but I am going to need to forgo golfing next weekend. The Porshe started to give me fits the other day, I got to put some time aside to go get it looked at.” Nichola said, apparently not done telling his story. I noticed Alice perk her ears up, “You broke my Porche?” she said in question. I about spat my food out at the look Nichola gave Alice. “It’s not your car, and go get your own,” Nichola said as if he were a dragon hoarding his gold. “Mmm,” Alice grunted, waving her fork as she finished chewing. “I could get my own, but I want yours old man. That one is a collector.” I was not sure what made it a collector, but I did know that the Porche in question was a 1975 Porsche 911 Turbo Carrera, Nichola kept its original white paint job immaculate. I swallowed my food and said, “You know I have some free time on my hands, I could take a look at it for yah. I could also get my buddy, Adam, to take a look too, he owns a shop across town.” Nichola smiled at me before responding to my offer, “That’s a tempting offer, but you may want to see what your other half has planned before you start drumming up your own work.” I just sighed and went to shove the last of the potatoes on my plate into my mouth. I had about a 50/50 shot in her letting me go play mechanic, plus the more I thought about it, I don’t think I would want to be here without Jen with me. After I swallowed my potatoes, I went on to counteroffer, “If take it to a shop at least take it over to Adam and have him look at it. He is a wiz at what he does.” I spotted Isabella wanting to say something but was biting her tongue, though Jen must have seen it as well because I heard her speak up next. “Please can we move off the topic of cars, and your friend Adam, please,” was all Jen said before I saw her look down and glance at how I was fairing with my food. “What’s wrong with Adam?” I heard Alice say, questioning Jen's specific request. I guess Isabella could not hold out any longer because she was next to pipe up. “This Adam fella is not a good influence. He is replacing good parts with other good parts to make money off people that don’t know better.” Her comment made me a bit confused; I have known Adam forever; he would not do any of that. Also, how did she know him? “Mother, that is not what I said. You are taking my words and twisting them,” I heard Jen say defensively. I raised an eyebrow, “What on earth are you to talking about?” I asked confused. Isabella made sure to look at me when she said, “Your Mommy said you and Adom were replacing a turbo thing in your overpowered race car for another. I tried to convince her multiple times you need to get rid of that thing, it’s too dangerous.” I just stared at her like she was growing a horn out of her forehead. I knew exactly what she was talking about now. “To clear the air,” I started to say looking around the table, “it was not just replacing a single turbo, Adam helped me upgrade the Voodoo engine in my car so that I could handle twin turbos. I mean yeah, the old turbo was good, but I just wanted to upgrade it and get better performance. However, I had to put a full roll cage in it before I could do that with a five-point seat harness in first by a firm request from Mommy. I would agree though on the race car comment, that much is true. Though I was only ever upside down in my Cj7, but that is a different story.” I could see the shock on Isabella’s face, not sure if she understood what I said though. “That’s a rather heavy modification,” Nichola said, making me look in his direction. “Different topic please, before Mother blows a gasket and wraps Charlie in bubble wrap,” Jen said firmly to us all before looking at me. “And you should be leery on such topics around your Grammy.” Dinner did not last much longer after that, though the conversation was changed and eventually Isabella stopped staring at me. I was not fond of the idea of calling Isabella Grammy, at least not after today. Who knew she was a wolf in a lamb in a sheep disguise? Jen was nice enough to match my eating pace, so I was able to finish at the same time as her, I did not even wait for me to ask to be excused. She simply praised me for finishing, kissed the top of my head, and took our plates to the kitchen. We all did our part in cleaning up and putting the dining room and kitchen back together before anyone relaxed. “You about ready to go home short stuff,” Jen said, drying her hands after washing the last dish. I stepped off the stool that I was using to help Jen with dishes and started to push it back by the fridge, where it lived. “I sure am,” I said in my best fake yon. It was only Jen, Isabella, and me in the kitchen, Nichola and Alice decided that cleaning the table was good enough before disappearing and leaving the three of us to finish with leftovers and dishes. “Charlie does not need to be changed before you leave, does he?” Isabella asked Jen as if I was not there. I will say, she has calmed down a bit after Nichola drew the line at dinner. I looked up to see Jen smile at me and ask, “What do you think, huh, are you my soggy baby?” I was not sure Jen even wanted me to answer, she wasted no time gently squeezing my diaper to see how wet it was. I did honestly try to go potty more, but I was only able to go a little bit while I was standing next to Jen helping her with dishes, pretending it was just us in the room. “Nope, still got a few miles left, you probably will be ok till we get you home, it’s almost your bedtime Mr.,” she told me with a wink. I was somewhat confident that her wink was meant for the bedtime reference, though I could be wrong. Jen and I followed Isabella to the front door. We waited for Isabella to go fetch Nichola so we could say our goodbyes. “You know you two don’t need to wait till Sunday to come over,” Isabella said as I followed Jen out the door. “I am sure I could find other things for little Charlie to play with other than that old car Nichola has.” Yup, I was not coming back without Jen. “We will see Mom,” Jenifer said as she waved goodbye. “Baby, tell Grammy bye,” Jen said, surprising me with my impromptu instructions. I looked up with questioning eyes only to be met with a gentle smile and a look that said ‘Please don’t fuss’. I took a breath and looked back at Nichola and Isabella, “Bye Grammy, Bye. . .” I started to say before trailing off, did I need to call him something else too? “Jest Nichola is fine, Charlie,” Nichola responded to my confused face. “My wife is the only one that needs her cute title.” I smiled returned and finished, “Bye Nichola. I will have Mommy email you Adam's info.” Nichola responded only with a wave and a nod. I turned around and finally made my way over to the passenger side of the car. “BACK SEAT YOUNG MAN,” I heard Isabella yell out by the door, making me jump when I opened the passenger door. To my surprise, I saw a car seat in the back that was not there before.

Chapter 8: The silent hall The air buzzed with a cocktail of nerves and forced bravado as we, a cluster of littles, strutted toward the hall where our fates would be scribbled on test papers. Adrian's chest puffed out like he was about to wrestle a bull, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "You look like you're ready to punch the questions into submission," I quipped, nudging him with my elbow. He flashed that smug grin of his. "Oh, I'm not just ready—I'm going to make those tests cry for mercy." Laughter erupted from the group, a sweet sound against the backdrop of our shared unease. We exchanged stories of how we'd conquer this challenge, inflate ourselves to match the towering expectations. Then it happened. A commotion ahead drew our attention like moths to a flame. A little girl, no more than a head shorter than me, squared off against a Big—a towering figure with hands that looked like they could cradle her entire existence. "I didn't do anything wrong!" she screamed, defiance painting her voice with vibrant streaks of fear and anger. The Big's response boomed across the hallway. "You know the rules! You will be diapered for your protection and have a nice chat with the dean." She twisted and turned, trying to slip from his grasp like a fish wriggling free from a hook. Her protests were met with an audience that might as well have been stone statues for all their reaction. The scuffle escalated as he wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped her over his knee right there in the middle of the hall. The sharp cracks of his hand meeting her backside echoed through the corridor. Her screams clawed at my insides. "Please! I didn't do anything! Please stop!" Lifted effortlessly despite her frantic struggles, her arms and legs thrashed wildly, while her cries grew into a peak of hopeless entreaties. "And off to the dean," he announced, his voice tinged with a perverse pleasure. "I'm aware of a mummy who's about to be extremely pleased..." Suddenly, a sharp voice cut into the dense air, clear and implacable. "She's cooked..." This comment, direct and ominous, appeared to resonate with an eerie conclusiveness. The chorus of "Ten Little Littles" started somewhere to my left, a quivering voice that rose above the hum of subdued chatter. My heart pounded in sync with the melody, each verse a haunting echo of our reality here at Emerson. "Ten little Littles, each keen to learn," the voice sang, and a ripple of nervous laughter swept through us. "But one spoke out of turn," another joined in, a mock solemnity in their tone. The girl who'd just earned her demerits was being led away, her protests growing fainter with each step. I couldn't help but shiver as the next line came, "leaving nine in concern." It was meant as a joke, this grim nursery rhyme among us Littles, but it rang too true, too close to the bone. A forced chuckle escaped my lips, my eyes scanning the room for allies in this shared unease. The Bigs around us loomed like sentinels, their eyes sharp on our little group. They must've heard the song a thousand times, must've known how it twisted our insides into knots. Yet they stood impassive as stone, uncaring or perhaps relishing in the power they wielded. "Adopted swiftly," someone continued, and I caught Adrian's eye roll from across the room. He leaned against the wall with an air of detachment that didn't quite reach his eyes. "With a demerit's note," I whispered under my breath, not wanting to draw attention but unable to stay silent. "A new family found," a Little to my right finished with a theatrical sigh. We all knew the stakes—every misstep brought us closer to adoption, to an existence we didn't choose. "In a coat," I added quietly as we all watched the girl disappear through a door marked "Dean's Office." Her fate sealed by one mistake. The tension broke for a moment as chuckles and uneasy glances were exchanged. We clung to humor like a lifeline in turbulent waters. It was easier to laugh than to acknowledge the gnawing fear that any one of us could be next—could be reduced to just another verse in this twisted song we sang. I felt Adrian's gaze on me again and offered him a wry smile. "They say music soothes the savage beast," I quipped, "but somehow I don't think they meant this tune." He smirked back at me, his usual arrogance tempered by the shared absurdity of our situation. "At least it's catchy," he retorted with dry humor that couldn't mask his underlying tension. We were all playing parts in a play we hadn't auditioned for—a performance where stepping out of line meant losing more than just applause. The song ended on an unresolved note, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake as we contemplated our roles in this dark lullaby. * * * I shuffled into the lecture room, a tight knot forming in my stomach. The air felt thick with tension, the rows of seats filled with littles like me, our eyes wide, our hands fidgeting. Mids and Bigs, the authoritative presences of the room, stood at ease but alert, their watchful gazes scanning over us. A towering figure at the podium cleared his throat. "Good morning," he boomed, voice reverberating off the walls. His height made him a Big for sure, but his demeanor spoke of something grander. I craned my neck to get a better look, wondering how anyone could naturally command such attention. "I'm Professor Dalton," he continued, and I noted the name mentally. "Today's test is crucial for your academic journey at Emerson University." His eyes locked onto different faces in the crowd as if trying to instill his words directly into our brains. He paced before us, hands clasped behind his back. "Let's remind ourselves of the ground rules here." His tone was stern but not unkind—a father lecturing his wayward kids. "Most importantly, any... messiness will result in immediate expulsion from this room and termination of your test." A murmur rippled through us littles; we knew all too well what 'messiness' implied. It wasn't just about keeping the floor clean or not smudging ink on our papers—it was about not soiling ourselves. A wave of nervous laughter was quickly stifled under Professor Dalton's unamused gaze. "And remember," he added, eyes sweeping over us once more, "you are free to leave at any time should you find it necessary." He paused for a moment as if to let that sink in. "However, doing so will end your session for today." I felt Adrian's elbow nudge me gently from the side; a silent pact between us that we'd get through this together. No one wanted to be the first to bolt for the door, to admit defeat without even lifting a pencil. The professor’s words hung heavy over us as we took our seats. The high chairs designed for littles loomed like thrones of judgment. My heart raced as I strapped myself in—one wrong move could send me tumbling out of this place and back into that nursery-decorated hell they called a dorm. Professor Dalton gave one last nod before stepping away from the podium and allowing the test to begin. The assistants, Bigs with their air of authority, moved through the rows with practiced ease, handing out tablets and goggles to us littles. The tablets were sleek, their screens glowing with an array of colors as they came to life at the touch. I accepted mine, the cool surface a stark contrast to my warm palms. My fingers traced the edges, feeling the seamless join between metal and glass. "Googles on, everyone," ordered the examiner, “Activate your tablets." I slipped on the goggles, adjusting the strap around my head. The world went dark for a moment before a burst of light from the tablet's screen filled my vision. I tapped the glowing icon on the screen and a three-dimensional interface sprang to life before my eyes. The examiner's voice brought me back to reality. "Time will begin... now." His words were the starting gun in this race of intellects. Technical diagrams and equations hovered in midair, demanding my focus. I felt like I was inside a machine, gears and levers all around me, waiting for my command. My heart pounded—not from fear, but from exhilaration. This was my element: mechanics, technology, the language of innovation. With a few more swipes and taps on the tablet's surface, I rotated the images, analyzing them from every angle. Each question required me to dive deeper into my knowledge of engineering principles—leveraging forces, calculating stresses, understanding material properties. I worked through each problem methodically, my mind racing but clear. The room around me faded away; it was just me and the challenge before me. In this digital realm created by goggles and tablets, I wasn't just a Little—I was an engineer in the making. As I moved onto a particularly complex circuit analysis problem, I felt a surge of confidence. This test wasn't just about getting answers right; it was about proving that size didn't define ability. The murmur of surrender began as a whisper, a barely audible shuffle of small feet against the cold floor. I could hear the quivering voices of littles around me, each one cracking under the weight of relentless questions. "I can't... I just can't do this anymore," a girl to my left whimpered, her voice barely above a breath. Her goggles came off with a trembling hand, the virtual world dissipating before her tear-filled eyes. "No, wait! Please, I need another chance!" another pleaded from somewhere behind me, his voice rising in desperation before it was swallowed by the stern assurances of an attendant. The attendants moved with swift efficiency, their hands gentle but firm on the shoulders of those who'd surrendered. The sobbing littles were escorted out, their sniffles and cries echoing long after they disappeared from the room. My own heart thudded against my ribs like a frantic drummer, urging me to keep pace with its rhythm. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I squinted at the next question on my tablet. My mind spun, each formula and diagram swirling into an indecipherable blur. I shook my head, trying to dispel the fog of doubt clouding my thoughts. "Just one more problem," I muttered to myself. But as minutes slipped into what felt like hours, that same crushing weight that had claimed so many of my peers began to press down on me. My resolve wavered; I was teetering on the edge of giving up. "I don't know if I can do this," I confessed under my breath, a silent admission to no one but myself. My voice felt small and lost amid the sea of concentration that filled the room. I could almost hear Eric's encouraging words in my ear—his unwavering belief in me from across dimensions gave me a flicker of strength. My little brother's face flashed in my mind, his eyes bright with admiration and trust. "No," I resolved with newfound determination, banishing thoughts of failure. "I didn't come all this way to fall apart now." My concentration wavered as a new pressure began to build within me—a sensation all too familiar and unwelcome. I tried to push it aside, to bury it beneath my focus on the problems that danced before my eyes, but it clawed its way to the forefront of my mind, demanding attention. The pressure in my bladder grew more insistent, like a drumbeat growing louder in the silence of the testing room. It was no use; the dam broke without warning, warmth spreading rapidly beneath me. My cheeks burned with mortification as I realized what had happened—I'd flooded my diaper right there in the middle of an exam. The diaper—my unwanted safeguard against such humiliations—swelled with the weight of my accident. It was a thick, crinkling barrier strapped around my waist, its once trim padding now bloated and heavy between my legs. The soft, white plastic exterior, decorated with juvenile prints of tiny gears and cogs—a mocking nod to my love for mechanics—betrayed no sign of the betrayal that unfolded beneath. I could feel the diaper's bulk pressing against me with every slight shift in movement, a constant reminder of my loss of control. With a deep breath, I forced myself to focus back on the tablet before me. Each question became a lifeline, pulling me away from the reality of my soggy state. The examiner's voice cut through the concentration, sharp and final. "Time's up," he announced, and a collective exhale rippled through the littles. My own breath hitched as I clutched the tablet, my last answer still half-formed on the screen. I pushed back from the desk, my chair squeaking in protest. My heart sank with every step I took toward the exit, the weight of my soaked diaper impossible to ignore. It squished uncomfortably with each movement, a relentless reminder of my lack of control. I caught myself waddling slightly, an embarrassing gait that I tried to mask with as much dignity as I could muster. The outline of my diaper must have been visible beneath my pants, a bulging testament to my predicament. As I edged past rows of seats, I spotted Adrian hunched over his tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sight of him, so focused and seemingly unfazed by the pressures around us, filled me with a mix of envy and concern. His posture betrayed a hint of discomfort—perhaps he was struggling more than he let on. I paused for a moment, torn between reaching out to him and escaping the scene of my embarrassment. The decision was made for me when an attendant's eyes met mine—sharp and knowing—and gestured for me to move along. I shuffled out of the lecture room with as much composure as I could feign, feeling the swell of my diaper with each step. A flush of warmth spread across my cheeks—not from any fresh accident but from sheer humiliation. Outside, I leaned against the cool wall, taking deep breaths to steady myself. Adrian would be out soon enough; he always had a way of conquering these tests without breaking a sweat. Leaning against the wall, I glanced down the empty corridor. Nobody around. With a hesitant hand, I poked at the front of my pants, trying to gauge how noticeable the diaper was. The padding felt bulky, obvious to me, but maybe it wasn't so bad to anyone else's eyes? I turned sideways, craning my neck to check out my reflection in the polished metal of a nearby locker. There it was, a slight puffiness that wasn't there before. I shifted, feeling the squishy thickness hugging my waist. A bit childish, I thought, fussing over it like this. But who wouldn't? This wasn't exactly a minor wardrobe malfunction. "Should've packed a spare," I muttered under my breath, cursing my lack of foresight. "That wouldn't have helped you," came a voice from behind me. I spun around, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The voice was familiar—too familiar—but I couldn't place it without a face. My eyes darted around, searching for its owner. "You think you're the first one this has happened to?" the voice continued, almost teasing but not unkind. It echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the lockers and amplifying my discomfort. My head snapped up, and there stood Aiden Ricoh, his arms folded across his chest, an all-knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like you've found yourself in a bit of a situation." I clenched my fists at my sides, frustration simmering within me. Last time we met, Aiden had saved me from public ridicule, but at what cost? My pride still smarted from the ordeal. "Aiden," I acknowledged with a stiff nod. "I guess I have." He unfolded his arms and took a step closer. "You know, only Bigs can untape those diapers," he said matter-of-factly. "They are made to keeps littles like you from getting into... mischief." I ground my teeth together. Great, just great. As if it wasn't enough to be trapped in this absorbent prison, now I had to face the fact that my release depended on someone else's whims. "Terrific," I muttered under my breath, casting a sideways glance at Aiden. Aiden leaned against the wall beside me, looking down with an expression that was hard to read. "So," he began casually, as if discussing the weather and not my personal crisis, "what's your next move?" My next move? I ran through the options in my head—none of them particularly appealing. I could wait it out until bedtime when Evelyn would surely have her way with us again—another round of changing and dressing that made my skin crawl just thinking about it. Or I could seek out another Big to help me out of this mess—a humiliating prospect that left a sour taste in my mouth. I cursed myself silently for getting into this predicament in the first place. A grown man—or at least someone who should be seen as one—dependent on others for something as basic as using the toilet. "I don't know," I finally said with a heavy sigh. "I guess I'll just have to wait it out." Aiden pushed off from the wall and gave me a pat on the shoulder—a gesture that felt more condescending than comforting. "Chin up, Bixente," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's only for a little while." I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of my situation pressing down on me like a lead blanket. My eyes lifted to meet Aiden's towering figure, lingering on his face, searching for some shred of understanding in his gaze. For a moment, I said nothing, letting the silence between us stretch. I swallowed hard, the plea forming in my throat before my pride could choke it back. "Aiden," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "could you... would you mind changing me?" The words felt like shards of glass in my mouth, sharp and bitter. It was more than just asking for help; it was admitting defeat, surrendering to this infantilized version of myself that Amazonia seemed determined to impose on me. Aiden's expression softened, and he gave a small nod. "Sure, Bixente," he said quietly. His voice held no trace of mockery or condescension—it was the simple acknowledgement of my need. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I stood there, exposed in my vulnerability. It wasn't just the physical discomfort that gnawed at me—it was the loss of autonomy, the stark reminder that in this world, I wasn't seen as capable of taking care of my most basic needs. "Thanks," I managed to say, each syllable laced with a mix of gratitude and shame. It was a strange thing to be thankful for—the assistance of someone else to rid me of this damp humiliation—but there it was. Aiden's hand rested briefly on my shoulder as he guided me down the hallway toward a changing room tucked away from prying eyes. Each step felt like an eternity, my diaper sagging heavily with each movement. I tried not to think about it too much—to focus instead on the coolness of the tiles beneath my feet and the quiet hum of the ventilation system overhead. As we entered the changing room, I couldn't help but notice how everything seemed designed for efficiency and discretion—tools for Bigs to care for their Littles without fuss or fanfare. Aiden moved with practiced ease, gathering supplies from a cabinet stocked with wipes and fresh diapers. I stood there awkwardly as he prepared the changing table, trying not to focus on how small and childish it made me feel. But even as embarrassment gnawed at me, there was a small part of me—a part I wasn't quite ready to acknowledge—that felt relieved at not having to face this alone. Aiden gestured for me to lie down on the table. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said gently. I stood rigid as Aiden secured me onto the changing table, the straps snug across my chest. My heart pounded in my ears, each beat a reminder of my current state. He unsnapped my pants with a deftness that left no room for protest, exposing the swollen diaper beneath. The cool air of the room hit my skin, and I shivered—not from the temperature, but from sheer humiliation. Aiden worked quickly, his movements efficient as he untaped the diaper and slid it out from under me. The sound of wipes being pulled from their container was oddly loud in the quiet room. I felt each swipe against my skin, clean and cold, erasing the evidence of my accident. A fresh diaper was slipped beneath me, its tapes fastened with a finality that felt like a sentence being passed down. "There you go," Aiden said, his voice neutral as he released the straps and helped me sit up. "Good as new." I swung my legs over the side of the table, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't expect to need help like this." Aiden shrugged, tossing the used diaper into a bin with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Happens to the best of us," he said nonchalantly. "No point dwelling on it." I pulled up my pants, feeling the crinkle of the new diaper as it settled around me. The bulkiness was there—a padded barrier between me and the world—but it was dry, at least. "Still," I started, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "it's hard not to feel... you know." Aiden nodded as he washed his hands at a nearby sink. "Like you've lost something? Your independence maybe?" I gave a small nod in response. It felt odd to have someone articulate what I was struggling to admit even to myself. He dried his hands and turned back to me with a slight smile. "Bixente, this place can mess with your head if you let it. Remember who you are and why you're here." I took in his words, letting them roll around in my mind like pebbles in a stream—smoothed over by constant motion. Before I could respond, my pocket buzzed with an incoming message. I fished out my phone and glanced at the screen—Adrian's name lit up with urgency. "Waiting outside for you," read his message. * * * The cafeteria buzzed with life, a hive of hungry students all clamoring for their next meal. I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of sizzling chicken tickle my senses. Couldn't help but flash back to that day Eric and I hit up our favorite fast-food joint, his eyes wide with the wonder of a ten-year-old. "Check it out, Adrian! It's like we're back with the dinosaurs!" I joked, nudging him as we eyed the colossal drumsticks behind the glass. Adrian shot me a look, one eyebrow arched. "Behave, little bro," he said, his voice layered with mock sternness. It was the kind of thing he'd say to Eric when he got too rowdy. I couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. But as we stepped forward to place our orders, my phone buzzed with a message that cut through my amusement like a cold blade: “Not suitable for little.” My face fell as I read it, a chill creeping up my spine. I showed Adrian the screen, my heart thumping erratically. "What's this about?" he muttered, his brow furrowing as he peered over. My eyes darted around the room until they landed on Aiden. His phone was in hand, and though he was across the room, his gaze pierced right through the crowd and found mine. Before either of us could react further, a gasp erupted from nearby. A Mids girl stood frozen in horror as an unmistakable sound echoed through the hall—a wet fart followed by a cry of despair. She soiled herself right there among her peers. Her face crumpled into distress as she sobbed loudly, and my stomach clenched in empathy. I turned to Adrian; our shared grimace said it all. No words needed—we were getting out of this chaos. "Burger?" Adrian suggested with a quick nod towards the exit. "Burger." I agreed. The rhyme’s lyrics: 🎶 **"Ten Little Littles' Adoption"** 🎶 (based on Zehn kleine Jägermeister from Die Toten Hosen) 1. 🎵 Ten little Littles, each keen to learn, But one spoke out of turn, leaving nine in concern. Adopted swiftly, with a demerit's note, A new family found, in a coat. 2. 🎵 Nine little Littles, trying to conform, But one missed curfew, breaking the norm. Adopted gently, into arms so wide, Leaving just eight, side by side. 3. 🎵 Eight little Littles, with rules to abide, One couldn't keep pace, despite having tried. Adopted lovingly, a new chapter to start, Seven remained, each with a cautious heart. **Chorus:** 🎵 *In Emerson's halls, where Littles play,* *Demerits count in a serious way.* *Each misstep, a story unfolds,* *In the arms of new, their future holds.* 4. 🎵 Seven little Littles, under careful watch, One snuck treats, caught in a botch. Adopted quickly, with a soft goodbye, Six little Littles left, under the sky. 5. 🎵 Six little Littles, walking in line, One laughed too loud, crossing the fine. Adopted warmly, into a home so dear, Five Littles left, with growing fear. 6. 🎵 Five little Littles, trying to stay small, But one grew tall, against the wall. Adopted fondly, a new height to explore, Four Littles wondered, what's in store? **Chorus:** 🎵 *In Emerson's halls, where Littles play,* *Demerits count in a serious way.* *Each misstep, a story unfolds,* *In the arms of new, their future holds.* 7. 🎵 Four little Littles, with hope in their eyes, One made a mess, an unwanted surprise. Adopted kindly, with a gentle hand, Three Littles left, in a shrinking band. 8. 🎵 Three little Littles, with nowhere to hide, One cried in public, their fear couldn't be denied. Adopted softly, with a comforting hug, Two Littles remained, on the rug. 9. 🎵 Two little Littles, nearly at the end, One broke a toy, couldn't mend. Adopted swiftly, to a room with toys, One Little left, missing all the noise. **Chorus:** 🎵 *In Emerson's halls, where Littles play,* *Demerits count in a serious way.* *Each misstep, a story unfolds,* *In the arms of new, their future holds.* 10. 🎵 One little Little, all alone, With a heavy heart and a quiet moan. Adopted lastly, with a tearful wave, Empty halls echo, memories they save. **Chorus:** 🎵 *In Emerson's halls, where Littles play,* *Demerits count in a serious way.* *Each misstep, a story unfolds,* *In the arms of new, their future holds.* 🎶 *And then no Littles, in halls so still,* *Just tales of adoptions, and demerits' bill.* *Ten little Littles, each found a new home,* *In families and hearts, no longer alone.* 🎶

The worst parts I feel: 1. Traveling. Going for a 2-3 weeks holiday by plane, requires a full suitcase extra just for diapers. Its expensive and annoying, and have altered the way I do vacations. I now drive by car/caravan, instead of flying. 2. Disposing used diapers, when not home. (workplace, friends, family visits, vacation) 3. This is more on the "lifestyle of a DL" issue, and not a lifestyle of an incontinent: I had no interest in trying to save my marriage, due to the way she "discouraged" me to use diapers. I did nothing to try and save it, and my reasons was purely because I looked forward to going back to diapers on a daily basis. She knew I was DL, as I told her when I had known her for 1 month. I knew I could not suppress my feelings for diapers. So it was a disaster waiting to happen. - I held out for 8 years with only sporadic diaper use. That's the experience I have, after 4 years of 24/7, where I now have 2-3 wet nights a week, and cant handle daytime for more than 30 minutes, without diapers.

It's a couple of these things but mostly for me it will be nice to not have to struggle with the question anymore.

Chapter 6: Walking through time On Cobbletech Avenue, where antiquity clasped hands with the future, a tapestry of classical architecture lay interwoven with Amazonian innovation. Frescoes danced on facades as drones buzzed overhead, their tiny lights flickering like fireflies against the dusky sky. Marble columns stood sentinel beside digital display windows scrolling through endless advertisements for the latest tech. Among the throng of early evening strollers, a young man ambled, his thoughts a private cocoon that shielded him from the world's prattle. He wore a simple ensemble—a pair of dark jeans and a faded university sweatshirt—blending seamlessly with the student population that ebbed and flowed around him. His gait carried an air of preoccupation, his eyes focused on some unseen horizon beyond the present. The air thrummed with conversation, an auditory collage of daily life. Couples walked hand in hand, discussing plans for the weekend, while others bartered over items in open-air markets. "Did you see the latest lev-bike model? Zero to sixty in three seconds!" a someone boasted to his companion, who laughed heartily at the extravagance. Nearby, a mother adjusted the straps on a Little's harness, her voice a gentle chiding melody. "Remember, no running off. Stay close or it's straight to bed after dinner." Laughter erupted from a nearby table where Bigs enjoyed an alfresco meal. "So, two scientists walk into a bar," one began, her grin broad beneath twinkling eyes. A murmur of intrigue rippled through her audience as she leaned in. "The first says to the bartender—" Their voices blurred into the ambient noise as the man continued on his path, unaware of their stories and their laughter. The end of summer lingered in the air, warm and soft like a promise whispered beneath starlight. The quip's cliffhanger left a twinge of annoyance in Aiden's chest as he neared the famous Caelum's Cradle, an establishment where culinary constellations were said to align. Reservation-only, it stood as a beacon for those with refined palates and the clout to bypass the velvet ropes of exclusivity. Aiden fished his ID from his pocket, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes as the host perused it, then with a nod, ushered him inside. Caelum's Cradle was an oasis of opulence, its interior a harmonious blend of old-world charm and futuristic finesse. Holographic chandeliers cast a soft glow over mahogany tables set with fine bone china and silverware that glistened like morning dew. The murmur of mellow conversations filled the space, accompanied by the clinking of glasses—a symphony for the senses. Evelyn sat ensconced in a plush booth, her presence commanding yet unobtrusive. Beside her, another Big, a woman with an air of erudition etched into her features, sipped on a glass of crimson liquid that swirled like distant nebulae. They both looked up as Aiden approached. "Ah, Aiden Ricoh graces us with his punctuality," Evelyn's voice rang out, equal parts jest and admiration. She gestured to the empty seat across from them. "Please, join us." Aiden slid into the booth with an ease that belied his height, nodding to each in turn. "Dr. Harrow, Ms. Thorne," he acknowledged their presence formally yet with an undercurrent of familiarity that hinted at previous encounters. Evelyn returned the nod with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes but warmed nonetheless. "Aiden," she said smoothly, "we were just discussing our latest developments…" Evelyn's fingers glided across the sleek surface of her tablet with practiced ease, summoning a holographic projection that hovered above the glassy device. A small portrait materialized in the air, the edges of the image rippling like water touched by a gentle breeze. The face within was Bixente's—a young man captured in an expression of candid innocence, his deep blue eyes reflecting an inner resilience that belied his current vulnerability. His somewhat childish features were softened further by the hologram's glow, painting him as a picture of boyish charm. "This little one," Evelyn began, her voice a melodious pitch that might have sold sand to desert dwellers, "is quite the sweet soul. Despite his rough start here at Emerson, he's adapted admirably. There's a certain... naiveté about him that's quite endearing." The woman opposite her, Ms. Thorne, regarded Bixente's holographic likeness with a discerning eye. She tilted her head slightly, considering the image before her. "He does have an appealing look," she conceded, "but I wonder if there might be another who fits my client's specific tastes." "Of course," Evelyn responded without missing a beat. She swiped at her tablet again and another face appeared beside Bixente's—Mateo's visage now floating in the air, with sharp features and an intense gaze that hinted at a fiery spirit. Ms. Thorne barely spared Mateo a glance before she shook her head dismissively. "Not quite what we're looking for," she said briskly. "Perhaps LP02?" Evelyn nodded and quickly adjusted her search parameters. The image shifted once more, this time revealing Adrian Volkov's stern countenance framed by dark hair styled with meticulous care. His piercing blue eyes seemed to scrutinize even from within their digital confines, and his fashionable attire suggested an air of casual superiority. "Adrian here is another excellent candidate," Evelyn offered with a touch of pride. "Intelligent and confident—his arrogance can be... reshaped into a more desirable demeanor under the right guidance." Aiden leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he observed the transaction unfold. "They are both primed," he chimed in with an assertive tone that underscored his involvement in their grooming process. "Should be available on the market within a week." Ms. Thorne tapped her chin thoughtfully as she considered Adrian's portrait. After a moment, she let out a sigh that seemed to carry both resignation and anticipation. "I believe my client will find Bixente quite... captivating," she mused aloud. The trio delved into discussions about regression options—a myriad of paths that could tailor Bixente to any number of desired outcomes. Evelyn outlined potential scenarios with clinical detachment: reduced autonomy, enforced dependence, behavioral modifications—all designed to ensure Bixente would fulfill his role perfectly. Aiden's fingers danced across the tablet's surface, a maestro conducting an orchestra of potential futures for Bixente. The holographic display responded in kind, blossoming with options and diagrams that painted a stark future for the young man in question. "Given Bixente's particular... adaptability," Aiden began, tapping an icon that caused a new set of images to emerge, "I'd venture that full regression to a three-year-old mentality could suit him rather well." He paused, allowing the statement to hang in the air like a heavy perfume. Evelyn's lips curled into a knowing smile as she nodded in agreement. Ms. Thorne, however, arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the implication. "Full regression? Interesting proposition, but I'm curious—do you have anything less... conventional?" Aiden met her gaze, his own eyes alight with the thrill of sharing a closely guarded secret. "Indeed, we do," he said. With another deft swipe on his tablet, he brought up a schematic labeled 'Half Regression Protocol'. "This is one of our more nuanced programs. It maintains the subject's awareness of their own behavior while they exhibit the characteristics of a toddler." Ms. Thorne leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Half regression? Do elaborate." "The half regression," Aiden explained, "is an intricate process where the subject's cognitive abilities are selectively dialed back. They retain their memories and a portion of their adult intellect but react emotionally and behaviorally as a young child would." He gestured toward the display where Bixente's image remained visible beside charts and bullet points detailing this unique form of manipulation. The concept appeared to captivate Ms. Thorne as she pondered its implications. "So they're aware of acting like a toddler but can't help themselves? Fascinating," she murmured. Evelyn interjected with her own brand of smooth persuasion. "It's particularly effective for those who value control," she said. "Imagine—the constant internal battle between their adult self and the regressed persona can be... quite profitable." Ms. Thorne sat back, absorbing the information with keen interest. Her eyes flitted between Evelyn and Aiden as she considered the proposition before her. "It's quite an unusual approach," she conceded after a moment's contemplation. "But I can see its potential allure."A smile tugged at the corners of Aiden's mouth upon hearing her; his proposal had hit its mark exactly as he planned. The prospect of Bixente enduring this ordeal appeared increasingly real, as if strands were intertwining into the cloth of his destined future—a triumph for both Aiden and her doctoral research.

Chapter 5: The keeper’s nest (1/2) I shuffle into the nest, my legs leaden, the scratchy fabric of the diaper chafing against my skin with each step. Aiden's hand rests lightly on my shoulder, a silent but unwelcome comfort. Evelyn waits for us, her eyes scanning the scene like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. The moment she spots us, her lips curl into a practiced smile, and she strides forward with open arms. "Welcome back, Bixente!" Her voice rings with an unsettling warmth as she sweeps me into an embrace that feels more like a cage than a comfort. She releases me just as quickly, turning to Aiden with an approving nod. "Thank you, Aiden. It's so reassuring to see such care among students." Aiden shrugs, his usual charm in place. "Just doing my part." Evelyn's gaze locks onto me again, and I squirm under the intensity of her scrutiny. Her eyes trace the contours of my face before drifting downward, inspecting my disheveled state. I can't help but feel like a specimen under a microscope, every flaw magnified. "I think we need to address your... situation," she murmurs, reaching out to remove my top. The cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps and sending a shiver down my spine. Vulnerable and exposed, I can't shake this gnawing sense of dread twisting in my gut. She moves away for a moment and returns holding that damned box—Mommy's little helper—the cartoonish figures on it mocking me with their tear-streaked faces and crimson bottoms. My heart hammers against my ribcage as she sets the box down with an ominous thud. I swallow hard, trying to steady my voice. "Evelyn... what are you doing?" She doesn't answer immediately; instead, she pops open the box and stares inside. I strain to catch a glimpse but see nothing. Evelyn looks up from the box and meets my eyes with a steely gaze that sends shivers down my spine. "Sometimes," she begins in a tone laced with false sweetness, "anticipation is the most effective tool." My palms sweat as I clench them at my sides, every muscle tensed for whatever comes next. Evelyn's eyes bore into me, her voice a razor-sharp edge slicing through the tense air. "Bixente, did you have a choice regarding your underwear earlier today?" I nod, a lump forming in my throat as I recall the moment of decision that led to my current humiliation. Her reminder feels like salt rubbed into an open wound. "And what were your options?" she continues, her tone soft yet laced with a subtle threat. I hesitate, my voice barely a whisper as I answer, "Training pants... or stay in my... my big boy underwear." Evelyn arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk that doesn't reach her eyes. "And what did you choose?" The words taste like ash on my tongue, but I force them out. "I chose to stay in my underwear." Evelyn's eyes never leave mine, her gaze an unyielding force. "And why wasn't it a good decision, Bixente?" she probes, each word calculated and precise. The humiliation claws at my insides, and a sense of resignation settles over me like a shroud. "Because I couldn't... I couldn't make it to the bathroom on time," I say, the truth of my words stinging like nettles against my skin. "And what happens when children can't make it to the bathroom on time?" Evelyn's question hangs in the air between us, a test and a sentence all at once. "They... they get put back in diapers," I respond, my pride crumbling like dry earth. She nods slowly, deliberately. "And when they've made a mess because they insisted they were too big for diapers?" Her voice is softer now, but it feels like a vice tightening around my chest. I look down at my hands, knotted together as if they could shield me from the truth. "They... they need to be taught a lesson," I murmur, each word dragging out of me like pulling teeth. Evelyn steps closer, her presence engulfing the space around me. "What kind of lesson, Bixente?" she asks, her voice dipping lower. My heart pounds against my ribcage, the echo of it loud in my ears. It takes every ounce of will to push the words past my lips. "A spanking." She watches me for a moment longer before nodding once more. "That's right. Because actions have consequences," she says with an unnerving calmness. "Do you understand that?" "Yes," I answer hollowly. The admission tastes bitter, and I can feel something inside me breaking—a dam giving way to a flood of shame and acceptance. Evelyn's hand rests lightly on my shoulder again, this time guiding me towards the edge of one of those absurdly oversized bean bag chairs that litter our nursery-like common room. "Let's make sure you remember this lesson," she says gently yet firmly as she positions me just so—a grown man about to be disciplined as if he were nothing more than a misbehaving toddler. My heart races as Evelyn's hand comes down with a light tap on the padded barrier of the diaper. The first few strikes are gentle, almost mocking in their softness, but I know better than to believe they'll stay that way. The room blurs at the edges of my vision, the pastel walls and whimsical murals spinning as I brace myself for what's to come. "Is this necessary?" I manage to choke out, my voice strained with a mix of indignation and fear. "Lessons must be learned, Bixente," she responds coolly, her hand landing with increased force. The smacks grow louder, each one echoing off the walls like a judge's gavel pronouncing sentence. With every hit, the fabric of the diaper rubs against my skin, its once comforting softness now an abrasive reminder of my degradation. I bite my lip to keep from making a sound, but it's a losing battle. Each strike sends a jolt through me, the pain building like a crescendo in a twisted symphony. "Please," I gasp between strikes, "I understand—I won't make the same mistake again." Evelyn's only response is to increase her striking power. The sound of her hand against the diaper fills my ears, drowning out my pleas. The padding does little to soften the blows that now rain down relentlessly. I feel my resolve crumbling, tears welling up in my eyes as the pain mounts. My pride shatters like fragile glass under the weight of Evelyn's hand. A sob escapes me, and then another until I'm crying miserably, each smack drawing forth another wave of tears. The spanking finally ceases, but the echoes linger both in the room and on my tender skin. My breath comes in ragged gasps as Evelyn stands me up on shaky legs and guides me towards a corner of the room. "Face the wall," she instructs sharply. "And no rubbing." As I stand in the corner, my face pressed against the cool wallpaper, I can feel the heat radiating from my bottom. The stinging sensation is intense, and every movement sends a jolt of pain through me. My heart races as I try to catch my breath, the tears still streaming down my face. Evelyn's voice cuts through the silence, her tone cold and clinical. "You've learned your lesson today, Bixente," she says, her words carrying an unmistakable air of finality. "But remember—this is just the beginning." I shudder at her words, knowing that she's right. The humiliation and degradation I've experienced today will haunt me for days to come, a constant reminder of my failure and my place in this society. Aiden steps forward, his expression unreadable as he regards me with a mixture of curiosity and detachment. "You should be grateful for this opportunity," he says softly, his voice almost soothing in its calmness. "It's not every day that you get a chance to learn such valuable lessons." I look up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair. How could he possibly think that what we've just done is valuable? That it's somehow beneficial for me to be treated like a child? But before I can voice my thoughts, Evelyn cuts in once more. "Don't waste your energy on anger or resentment," she says sternly. "Focus on what you've learned today—and how you can use it to improve yourself." I nod slowly, feeling defeated but also resigned to my fate. There's no point in fighting against this system; it's too powerful, too entrenched in every aspect of life here. All I can do is try to adapt and survive—to learn from this experience and become a better... little? The faint sound of the door creaking open seeped into my consciousness, and through blurred vision, I caught sight of Adrian's form being dragged into the room. My head shot up, a mix of concern and curiosity etched on my face. "Bixente, eyes front," Evelyn's sharp tone cut through the room, and I quickly averted my gaze, staring at the patterned wallpaper in front of me. Adrian's protests were loud and clear. "This is absurd! I'm an adult," he spat out, his voice thick with indignation. Evelyn chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Thank you for bringing him back, Natalie," she said to her friend. "Seems like our Adrian couldn't keep himself clean either." Natalie's voice was almost teasing. "He was quite the spectacle in the hall. Such a shame to see him like this, but rules are rules." I couldn't see them from my corner, but I could imagine Evelyn inspecting Adrian with that cold satisfaction she seemed to derive from our humiliation. "Oh, Adrian," she cooed mockingly. "You look absolutely adorable in your little mishap." Adrian's voice was a low growl. "Cut it out, Evelyn." But there was no mercy in Evelyn's realm. The unmistakable sound of her palm connecting with Adrian's behind echoed in the room—once, twice, thrice. With each strike, Adrian's composure crumbled; his disdainful façade gave way to raw vulnerability. "Please," he whimpered between blows—a plea that went unheeded as Evelyn continued her merciless discipline. When it was over, another sobbing figure joined me in the land of disgrace. We were two grown men reduced to toddlers on timeout. From across the room, Evelyn sighed contentedly. "What delightful sounds of obedience," she murmured to herself. And there we were: me with my damp cheeks and Adrian with his bruised dignity—both nursing our wounded pride under the watchful eye of Evelyn Harrow. The full chapter is more than 6k and will be post in 2. i think it will be easier to read. enjoys. eric.

First, welcome to DailyDiapers I think you'll find our site a refreshing break from other ABDL sites that cater to a smaller demographic, or are more sexually oriented. We're pretty open to all aspects of adult diapers and you're bound to make some friends here. There are a few things to be aware of that will make your experience here more fun (and fun is good!) We have many forums here, with each having a specific purpose. Please check them out and post in the proper forums. And please post the same message only once- if you make a new post everyone will see it listed under "New Content" so one post will do. Posting the same message in multiple forums is seen as SPAM here so please avoid that Also be aware of the difference between the "Incontinence-Medical" and "Incontinence-Desires" forums. There will be no tolerance for those who post "wanting to be incontinent " messages in the "Incontinence-Medical" forum Please take the time to write out your posts fully and comprehensibly. Save the texting shorthand for your phone- It's not appreciated on the forums here Keep in mind that diapers mean different things to different people. We're not all AB's or fetishists or anything else- we're individuals with unique needs and perspectives who have one thing in common; an interest in adult diapers Read others posts as carefully as you would want them to read yours so you get their meaning. Please use good grammar, including punctuation marks. And don't forget that spell-checker is your friend; if your browser doesn't have one, there is one built in here. Also remember that we have an international membership who have English as their second language, so their post grammar may not be perfect, but they try hard and we love them anyway Failure to use good grammar will bring our "Grammar Nazis" out of their slumber- things are much nicer when that doesn't happen Please note the date at the top of posts. We don't delete posts so you may be responding to a thread that is several years old. "Necro-posting" will get probably you at least a few "Boo's" unless your post is really relevant to the topic and today Remember that this is an adults only website. We will not tolerate posting pics or posting messages involving children in them. We are totally against all forms of pedophilia in any amount We also don't take kindly to people who force their diaper habits onto others who do not want to be involved. We believe in acting responsibly and respectfully in the real world, even if you're in diapers out there. You don't have to 'stay in the closet' to be one of us but please don't do things which casts ABDL's in a bad light publicly In the Chatroom please take time to get a feel for the people already there. "Baby-talk" is generally frowned on there so unless you see it on the screen, it's best to save that for the AB forums The "Freecycle" forum is not for selling. The principle of Freecycling is for items to be given away for free, though asking for the taker to pay shipping is acceptable. Terms to use here: Offer- when you have something to give, put "Offer" in the topic. When you decide to give the item(s) please post "Taken" in the thread so everyone will know the items are spoken for Our people are generally open-minded and tolerant, and would like to be your friend. We don't mind you 'jumping in the pool' with us even if you make a splash- just remember the others who are already here and be considerate of us Other than Spamming, pedophilia, and posting in the proper forum these are not site rules, just suggestions that will help you enjoy your experience here on the best darn ABDL Website in the World Thank you for taking the time to read this, now jump in and have some fun with us! Bettypooh

i love wearing panties i wear them when im not wearing a diaper

I'd like to stress that wearing 24/7 in itself is a mental game. Sometimes you just want to drop your diaper, dry off, and go to bed because you can't be bothered to put a new one one because it feels too inconvenient. This is a mental block you will need to get past. So try to practice NOT putting your undies back on after you feel fulfilled and just change into a new diaper. Do this consistently enough and you're basically wearing 24/7. I'd also like to stress that the "12 months" in the "12 month program" is actually a rapid timeline. It's rare that even with complete dedication that someone achieves functional diaper dependency in 12 months. Think about it more along the lines of 3 to 5 years in this case. Again, untraining is mostly a mental game. If your mind leads, your body will follow. The frustrating part about the 12 month program is when you've finally made it to your 1 year diaperversary going 24/7 and you find you're not as far along as you had imagined you would be. Forget all of that now before you untrain. Don't make the mistake of setting your expectations too high (best to not set any at all, but good luck with that) because you'll start to feel like you're not good enough to achieve what you want. It's best to take the untraining journey with the approach that you'll do what you can to untrain, and simply enjoy the 24/7 lifestyle, whether or not you make any good progress any time soon. Before untraining, the quicker you realize this process is 90% mental and 10% physical, the better off your mental health will be as you go through the untraining process.

I literally just joined to join this thread. I started going 24/7 4 months ago and now I believe I genuinely belong back in diapers for the rest of my life. I’m coming at this from a “never grew up” mentality and ever since admitting that to myself I have new levels of compassion and empathy and self-love. maybe I can be in a place where I can allow myself to regress more often, more permanently, not just so much a “headspace”. I crave the feeling of needing them. I used to be really leaky and have a tiny bladder. After getting treated for a UTI, all of that “goodness” of feeling out-of-control is gone and I am completely completely devastated. I tried clicking on the first post but I didn’t see the document. It leads me to an error page. Does anyone have a copy they’d be willing to share? Thank you.

这个计划很好

? You are definitely on my wavelength. When I was outlining what that might look like while keeping it true to all of the characters, the thought I had was that they'd be trying to help her rebuild her wardrobe and regain at least her bowel control, but it would all culminate in Jackie having that mythical first totally accidental messy diaper in front of a sales associate and Julia needing to find a way to bail her out in a fitting room. So, yeah, it would have been better, but it wouldn't have been all roses.

I started 27/7 just over 3 years ago at age 31. All my life I have always had a desire to be incontinent and wear diapers 24/7. The amount I wore grew over the years from a couple times a week, to every night, to anytime I wasn't at work. For years I avoided wearing at work because of the looming fear that people would find out and it would affect my then, full-time career as an EMT working on an Ambulance in Seattle. Even still, the desire to wear 24/7 only grew the more I wore. Eventually the need to wear 24/7 out weighed the fear of people finding out. I realised through my experiences of wearing diapers in public that people don't see the diapers unless they are looking for it; If they do see diapers, they never say anything. I also realized that I was stable in my career, and even if someone did find out, the people I work with would not be phased nor care if I wore diapers; they care about the work I do and not what I wear under my uniform. So after years of wearing and tons of encouragement from my now amazing husband, who I encouraged to go 24/7 just before me, I decided to go 24/7 myself. I easily slipped into wearing 24/7 as I was a seasoned veteran at sogging my pamps. To assist with hiding diapers under my work uniforms, I went in to get fitted for new uniforms while wearing diapers to make sure they fit and stayed discreet. After that, I was set to wear diapers discreetly at work and have been wearing 24/7 ever since. My only regret with going 24/7 was not starting sooner. I've totally converted my life to being diaper centric and I'm loving every minute of it!

Mostly because stuff like this is pure poetry: And the smell, that smell of the medium for the creation of life, that remnant smell of the primordial which produced the first living thing, that smell you taste, that green smell of water full of life. A smell you can feel, because the salt sticks to the skin and stays in the hair, that smell you take home with you. That bloody smell when it fills your mouth. That burning smell when it finds you eyes. If you ever find yourself far from home, go anywhere to the sea, and some deep-buried part of you, a part that’s been there since before we were human, will recognize that place as your true home, the place you came from before we were.