Leaderboard

Chapter Thirty One John stirred as something shook him. He rolled onto his side and the shaking stopped. He heard something like complaining behind him. He went back to sleep. Some time later he rolled over onto his other side and felt something warm beside him so he draped his arm over it and yawned really well, intent on waking up later. As long as later wasn’t soon. Something in front of him moved and something weird was ticking all over his face and nose, so he started swatting at it in his sleepy state. His hand got tangled up in some hair. Cracking one eye open as he pulled his hand back, he heard “Stop pulling on my hair.” from someone else that also sounded sleepy. Curious now, John pushed himself up into a seated position. The moment his weight went onto his butt he grimaced and tiredly grumbled out “uh umh” and shuffled to get his legs under him so his weight was on his thighs and not the contents of his diaper. Rubbing his eyes, he looked over and down at Kates legs and diaper clad butt sticking out from under a blanket. He poked her foot. She pulled her foot away and said “Lay back down, you were keeping me warm.” He thought about it a moment before he gave up and flopped back down and pressed his back against her. At first, John closed his eyes and started to doze back off. But slowly his brain processed things and he reached back and patted and felt a hip. Mustering the full might of his early morning brain capacity, he asked clearly: “Mm?” She twisted and turned her head to look at him. Then he felt her look back forward and whisper “You’re one of those people that don’t brain in the morning, aren’t you?” “Nnn...mmmm” He felt the person against his back take a deep breath and sigh “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Giving up on using his eyes for now, he mumbled “Bleh.” Over the course of the next ten minutes or so his brain slowly chugged into life and they started to have a conversation while laying there. While they were talking he kept noticing that he could feel her against his head and shoulders and back, but that their butts seemed to be several inches apart. He would have never thought that not feeling someone against your butt would be strange. Eventually though, Kate addressed the elephant in the room first by saying “Phew. We stink.” John took his turn to sigh and ask “So this is just what mornings are like for all littles here?” The softly spoken reply came “Yeah. This is our mornings. Laying in a crib in a diaper waiting for Mommy to come change us.” They were quiet again for a moment, but finally he admitted “It’s gross. At first I thought a wet diaper was disgusting. But right now I could sit in a wet diaper and not complain.” After another bit of quiet, he heard the reply from behind him. “Yeah. This place changes the way you see everything. All this technology and we’re still the babies here.” Finally, John had enough “I’m not laying on my side anymore.” Kate snorted a bit “You can try to lay on your back if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Pushing himself up onto all fours, John said simply “Nope” and crawled up around Kates head, past her and halfway up onto the pillow and just flopped onto it. Sinking contently into it with most of the weight off of his butt, he let out a sigh. Kate immediately pinched her nose and complained “Oh m… my face is right here by your…” John didn’t even look, he pointed up “I left you plenty of room on the other side of the pillow.” Immediately up onto all fours, Kate crawled around to the other side of the pillow, just past halfway up onto it and flopped. Now it was her turn to sigh. “Oh my g…” she exclaimed and then squeezed the pillow “I’m asking Mommy for a giant pillow.” After a few quiet minutes of the duo luxuriating on their giant fluffy pillow, John found himself thinking back to the previous day. “Hey.” he mumbled. “Yeah?” came a comfortable sounding response. Floundering for words a bit “My … uhhh Mom? Yeah, I guess it’s more a title than a name?” There was a quick humored exhale above his head “Yes John, she’s your Mom. Eventually you’ll call her Mommy like I do mine. I don’t know why, but you probably won’t mind it either.” He nodded against the pillow and explained “Well, Mom was … I guess I can only say she was super cool last night.” There came an agreement “Oh yeah!” It took a moment of thought before he could add “I think that it was super hard for her because she’s just going to think she she didn’t find her before she got too cold? She seems like the kind of person that would feel bad about that.” “John?” He looked up to see Kate looking at him “Yeah?” She said “You have no idea how over protective the bigs are here.” He nodded and then flopped his head back down, feeling the pillow shift as she did the same. Musing out loud, he said “Still, as far as I’m concerned, she’s a hero.” Kate barked out a cute brief laugh “Yeah. She was all like ‘we’re not waiting’ and the agent guy just had to go and follow her.” Just then they both stopped and turned their heads toward the door as they heard footsteps. In walked two tall women and the side of the crib went down. Amanda leaned on the right side crib wall while Aunt Cat leaned on the left side, each smiling down at their littles. “Good Morning!” They both declared excitedly. John groaned out loud “Oh my God I’m surrounded by morning people.” Amanda clapped softly with a big exaggerated smile “John! You spoke an entire word before having your coffee milk!” All he could muster was “Ughhhhhhhh” Amanda stopped and poked him on the side while mumbling “No, I think he’s broken again.” Meanwhile Aunt Cat already had Kate airborne and moving toward the changing table. When he realized that her diaper was coming off in plain view, he turned his head toward the wall out of a sense of modesty. He felt Amanda’s fingertips running up and down his back. It felt really nice. She leaned and whispered softly to only him “So I’m the big heroic Mommy?” John felt his face and ears turn beet red and he rolled onto his side to look up at her big grin before rolling to bury his face back into his pillow. He mumbled into his pillow “I’m not awake, so I didn’t say anything.” Then he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard “I don’t know, that was a lot of words from a sleeping little.” Taking a moment and channeling his best attempt at a B rated movie zombie he took a deep breath and said “UHNNNNnnnnnnnnn Brainnnnnnnssssss” And then a fingertip found his ribs and he tried to squeal while his lungs were empty! He felt his hair being ruffled and then he was being lifted and carried sideways. Although as tall as Amanda was it almost felt like she was just taking a step and swinging him over like a giant crane. As his butt hit soft weirdly plasticy mat, the bars flopped limply onto him at the same as he shuddered at the unpleasant sensation. Unlike usual, Amanda playfully picked up his pacifier and poked his lips with it, stating “Here, this special zombie proof pacifier will keep me safe.” He just rolled his eyes and accepted it as she went to work with the diaper change. It took an extra minute of scrubbing that he was honestly very grateful for before she came into his view holding up one rough pup diaper, and one bright blue one with a monkey on it. Oh a whim he pointed at the blue one. With a nod she bapped him with it before finishing. When he felt the telltale bump of her knee on some spot of the table, the bars went up and he was lifted and put onto the floor on his own two feet. “Okay young man. After breakfast we have to go to the grocery store. So let’s get you dressed and presentable really quickly.” For some reason the whim just took him and he shouted “You’ll never take me alive, copper!” and he tried to dart between her knees. Two trunk like legs closed in to clamp him in place and he flailed comically for a moment. Going limp he admitted “You took me alive.” There was a feeling like someone playing bongos, but on his padded bottom. After a moment of that he went from indignant to laughing “Okay!” he declared “I give up! I surrender! I’ll go along peacefully!” One moment later he was back on his feet and she knelt in front of him to give him a hug. With a whisper, she told him “Some times you act more like a little than others.” not really knowing how to take that statement he apologized “I’m sorry I didn’t …” She cut him off with a kiss to his forehead and said “No, it’s adorable and I appreciate it.” And as she stood up she pulled the shirt he slept in up and off. After a moment Amanda showed John a couple of options. “Okay” she explained “We’re going to get groceries, shouldn’t be gone two hours. It’s a bit cool out today, but not cold. Do you want shorts, pants, or overalls?” Without hesitation, he answered “Pants, please” Then she held up a shirt and a onesie. He pointed at the blue shirt with the cartoon dog wearing a cape on it. Moments later he was being carried, dressed for the day, and deposited on the living room floor next to a very excited Xerxes. Moments after that, Kate was deposited next to him. Aunt Cat looked down at both of them and explained “Okay, we’re going to get ready for the day ourselves, and then get you two breakfast before we all hit the road.” With that they each got a pat on the head, and she walked away as well. Now as alone as they were going to get again John asked something he’d been wondering. “Hey Kate?” “Yes?” “Why did they put us in the cr...I mean bed together?” With a shake of her head, Kate answered “John, we are both littles, and we were out cold after breast feeding. What were we possibly going to do?” He just sort of nodded “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Kate nodded then and asked “Can I play on your tablet a bit before we have to go?” The two of them sat together on the floor and John watched Kate just breeze through the color puzzles that hard started off as very simple, but then had her blending colors that he was pretty sure were only superficially different. After about fifteen minutes Aunt Cat came over and leaned down to watch over their heads for a moment before they even noticed she was there. Aunt Cat spoke up “That’s actually really cool, and you’re doing great!” Kate looked up and smiled at her “Thank you!” With a great big smile growing across her face, Aunt Cat patted them both on the head “You know what would be even MORE fun?” Kate looked confused for a moment, but John’s tickle senses kicked in and he shouted to his little friend. “Cheese it!” And he tried to get up and run for it. He made it one step before he felt himself being lifted into the air with one arm under his back and holding him by the bottom, and some fingers in his ribs. He tried not to crack, but it only took a few seconds before he was laughing and thrashing. By the time it was over he was against her shoulder while she patted his back. “Breath sweety” Aunt Cat said. Eventually he was deposited into his booster seat while a giggling Kate was placed in the one next to him. After a moment John found a bowl of oatmeal being slid in front of him. He was immediately unimpressed. He had never liked oatmeal a single time in his life. He associated oatmeal with ‘I can get groceries in a few days, this is what I have.’ Kate next to him went to town on her oatmeal and seemed like she was in heaven. Amanda leaned down and gently tapped him on the shoulder before asking “You okay there baby?” “Ummm…” was all he could muster. So Amanda picked up the spoon and stirred the oatmeal before holding the spoon up to him to take a bite. He instinctively leaned back. “I’ll make you a deal. You try a bite, and if you really and truly don’t like it, then I’ll make you some toast.” He sat there in his booster seat, leaning back and looking from Amanda to the spoon and back. Nothing about her body language told him that she was going to give up. She would wait him out. With a sigh he said “Fine.” He opened his mouth, she put the spoon into it. And then he furrowed his brow. Pausing to swallow he said “Oatmeal doesn’t taste like that!” Amanda handed him the spoon and kissed him on the forehead, whispering “Here it does. Littles love oatmeal.” He needed no prompting to dig in just like Kate was doing next to him. Whatever was in this oatmeal was weirdly compelling. And so with heavy stomachs and each of them with a sippy cup full of juice, they were sent back to the living room. After a minute of overly full shuffling around, the two of them settled down in front of the couch, leaning back. With their hips and legs pressed up against one another they looked down at the tablet home screen. It had a few new icons that weren’t there yesterday, but they chose to ignore them for now and they looked at the folder of books. While they scrolled through such curious titles as “Benny the Rooh” and “The Bearenstines” John felt an elbow gently in his ribs. “You need a bean bag” Kate whispered Shaking his head, he retorted “I don’t need a bean bag, I have a dog.” She pointed to the dogs head at the window “Your dog is outside.” After a moment of quiet he admitted “Bean bags are great.” While she was poking fun at him she settled in the Young Adult folder and was scrolling a bit more slowly, taking in the titles. John pointed to one and asked “How about this one?” “The Odyssey of Hugh?” All he could manage was a shrug “I don’t know, I’m just picking one because you can only scroll for so long before you just can’t make a choice.” Kate laughed at him a bit as she tapped the name and it came up with a picture of a very old looking book and a synopsis to one side. So John read it out loud “The Odyssey of Hugh: An epic tale of a man on a quest, who wandered for ten years exploring far away lands. After a shipwreck left him stranded on a distant island. After a long journey, Hugh overcomes many obstacles using his wit and whatever resources he has to hand. Hugh has befriended a wild bear and saved a stranded little that have joined him on his journey along the way. This is the story of their journey to return to Hugh’s home to his wife Penelope.” When he finished reading that out loud Kate used her fingers to zoom in on the cover of the book. There was a man standing on an outcrop overlooking the sea, and behind him there was a giant bear that came up to his chest, and you could see a carefully drawn little on the bears back with his own little backpack. Kare shook her head “No way any sane person would ride a bear.” John coughed a bit, his face turning red. It took her looking at a his face before she realized “You wouldn’t?” He could only nod. “Well.” she added “Like I said, no sane person.” He just rolled his eyes and tapped the button marked “Start Reading” The two of them managed to read at about the same speed, and were both getting fully invested when they each felt a tap on the shoulder. They both looked up to see their respective Mommy smiling down at them. Amanda spoke first “Have you two had fun together?” They both nodded, and when She took the tablet from them they both protested in their own way. Kate reached for it and said softly “But my book” While John just went limp and sighed “We just got to a good part” With Kate on her hip, Aunt Cat asked “What were you two rascals reading that you were so invested in?” Kate spoke up first by answering “The Odyssey of Hugh!” Now the two bigs looked back and forth between themselves and then at the littles on their hips. Then back at each other. “Huh.” Amanda spoke first “Are you two good at reading?” John probably looked as indignant as he felt “Hey! Where we’re from we read a lot, Mom.” Kate was just nodding along in agreement. Then Aunt Cat chimed in “I think I could see these two reading that just because of Hughs bear companion, Baloo.” John and Kate immediately looked at each other and said in unison “Baloo?” “Yeah, his bear is named Baloo.” Chimed in Aunt Cat and Amanda, both in unison. The two littles tried to keep a straight face, but John cracked first as he broke into a fit of giggles, followed immediately by Kate cracking up with him. The two bigs looked so confused by their littles having a laugh attack. Aunt Cat put a finger into Kates side and asked “Why is the name Baloo so funny?” The two went into a fresh fit of laughter and after some very patient waiting from two big women that were obviously planning to wait until they got an answer, John blurted out “Baloo is in the Jungle Book!” Looking right up at Amanda’s face, he could see her lock eyes with Aunt Cat before looking down and explaining to him “No, Sweety. The Jungle Book has a bear named Fozzy.” And that was it. Both littles were full on belly laughing again. Neither one of them could breath easily through the laughter. It went on for a full five minutes and they started to calm down. As John was finally catching his breath he heard from behind him. “Wakka” “PFFTTTTTTT” followed by another laugh attack. “Oh God. Oh God. It hurts. It hurts.” was mirrored by both littles. By the time they regained their composure, they were both wearing shoes and being carried to the driveway. Being stood up in front of each other, John felt a pat on his padded bottom and saw Aunt Cat do the same to Kate. They both got a “You two say goodbye, you’ll see each other in two days” They stood there kind of awkwardly shuffling their feet. “Umm…” John didn’t really know how to say goodbye in this situation. Kate just rolled her eyes and stepped up to give him a hug. He hugged her back, a bit haphazardly. She didn’t seem to be able to think of anything to say either. Finally the two bigs gave up and picked them both up. And gave them a kiss before shuffling them into their carseats. John was buckled in and a diaper bag was slid in the usual place in front of his seat, and the door shut. As Amanda slid into her seat and buckled up, John asked “So where are we going today?” “Welllllll” Amanda smiled up at the mirror “We are desperately low on groceries, because some little boy ate all the eggs. You don’t know who that would be, would you?” Shaking his head as though he had no idea “Nope. But you should definitely get someone on that.” He could see her rolling her eyes at him as she put the car into gear and asked “If we’re quick we can make one more stop while we’re in town. Is there anything you want to get while we’re out?” “Ummm…. Could we go by a pet store and get a toy for Xerxes?” He said the first thing that came to mind. Once they were on the road, John took a few pulls of juice from his sippy cup and got lost in thought. He really was stuck here. At least he had someone from home to talk to sometimes. Spaced out and completely lost in thought he barely noticed how much time passed until the door opened and Amandas face came into his view with a smile. Until she looked at him closely. “John” She asked “Are you okay? You look a bit sad.” He really just nodded slowly, saying “Yeah. Just thinking about things.” She immediately unbuckled him and picked him up into a hug, whispering “Do you wanna talk about it?” With a shake of his head, he admitted “I don’t think I understand it all yet, so … no” That got him another squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk. About anything. You’re my favorite little guy and I want to help you through everything.” Then she whispered a bit lower “Are you ready to go into the store?” It took a moment before he nodded. It was a struggle at the moment to remember all of the pointers and advice he had been given. One thing stuck out, though. “Hey umm… Are strangers really that grabby with littles?” He watched her get a funny look on her face before she said, seemingly careful about her words “I don’t know that I would say it that way *exactly* but it is normal in our culture to just check littles to see if they are wet or messy without telling the little, if that’s what you mean.” John was already shaking his head “I don’t want strangers touching me like that!” “Shhh shhh, hold on, hold on. Let’s get you comfy. Here, which pacy do you want?” He just blinked at her for a moment. She stood there holding him without any sense of rushing him, or intent to put him down or anything. She was just waiting for him. “Sweety, I’m not saying that you’re going to run a marathon or do anything like that, but I had hoped you would have your wits about you.” She was speaking softly and slowly. He just nodded “Umm… I guess … please give me that pacy.” “Which one?” “The training pacy? If I get mad and bite down on it, or anything, will you promise that I won’t be in trouble?” That got him picked up and kissed on the cheek “Sweety, if you use that to stay out of trouble, I promise you I won’t be mad at all.” He just nodded as she pulled the training pacy out of the diaper bag and clipped it onto his shirt. She held it up to him, but he just shook his head. So she lowered it so that it dangled, then she held out Rupert. With a kind smile, but a look that said it wasn’t a question, Amanda said “Rupert isn’t optional, you’re bringing him in with you.” So John just nodded and took Rupert, holding him against his chest as Amanda slung the diaper bag and then leaned down to pick him up. As he was settles on a hip, his head propped up on her chest and he couldn’t hold in the question. “Hey … about that whole plasma and matter thing … what happens if someone tried to go back after coming through a rift? Like through one of those portal places?” He could tell he hit something with that question because she faltered in her step. He felt a kiss on top of his head and he was lifted up higher onto her elbow so she could look him in the eyes “Well… before we got the hang of what was and was not safe … a few people, bigs and littles … made it through as a pile of … goop.” John just stared at her. A mental image of a person turning into goo cursed his vivid imagination. “Sweety?” John shuddered as he felt acid coming up his throat. Apparently her Mom senses kicked in because she turned and sprinted a few steps. As she got him aimed at a trash can his oatmeal came up. He could barely even hear the comment “Thank the Goddess that they have trash cans by the cart stalls.” After a moment he spit a few times and felt himself upright and being lowered into the seat of a shopping cart. Amanda put the diaper bag in the cart behind him and then wiped his face with a baby wipe. She offered him a sippy cup and said “Here, swish some water around in your mouth and spit it into the trash can.” So as he took a pull of water from the sippy cup and swished it around in his mouth, she rolled the cart right up to the trash can for him. She got the cart aimed at the store and all he could see was their car parked conveniently next to the cart stall. Amanda came around in front of him and leaned down, both of her eyebrows raised and asked gently “Do you want to talk about … that?” John simply shook his head and said “Never.”

Jessie pounded on the sorority house door, fighting back the furious tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. Her feet were sore and her legs ached from walking, but her dignity had been hurt far more. The girls of Delta Lambda had accepted her as a pledge–or, that’s what they’d promised. Jessie had expected a little hazing. Maybe a hand in a bowl of peeled grapes and telling her it was eyeballs, or having her do shots and flash some boys at a party, something harmless and a bit fun in hindsight. The girls hadn’t gone for ‘harmless fun’, they’d gone for a social torpedo. ‘All the pledges have to run through the campus fountain naked,’ they’d said, but while Jessie stripped, the others had stolen her clothes, leaving behind only a diaper and a crop-cut T-shirt that barely came down enough to cover her nipples, though the top half of a teddy bear could still be distinguished above the cut line. Then they’d abandoned her, declaring she could have her clothes when she got back to the house. Jessie had been left with an awful choice–put on the humiliating granny diaper, or attempt to streak the four miles between the fountain and the sorority house. She’d gone with the diaper, but on a Friday night, that still meant being seen by probably the entire student body and then some as she trudged back, holding off tears. And now they weren’t letting her in. “Pledge, you forgot to run through the fountain!” one of the sisters taunted through the window. “You have to go back and do it right!” “Asshole!” Jessie yelled back. “Let me in!” Instead of replying, the girl just raised her phone, snapping a picture of Jessie before she could try and hide her obvious diaper. “I wonder what Jamie will think of this?” She laughed sarcastically as she name-dropped Jessie’s boyfriend. “I bet this’ll finally convince him you’re third base material, huh?” Eyes widening, Jessie shook her head, raising a hand in protest. “Don’t send that!” “Sent!” the girl declared. “If you want your clothes–and your phone–back, go do the fountain run. You know the rules, pledge.” Anger rising, Jessie snapped, “I wish–” “Don’t care,” she replied, cutting her off with an eye roll. And with that she wandered away, leaving Jessie on the stoop, alone, humiliated, and defeated. She could try and walk back to her dorm, but it would be even further than the fountain, and her keys were still in her pants, locked inside the sorority house. Maybe someone would lend her a phone, but she didn’t want to go asking strangers for help–she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. “Tsk, tsk–this just won’t do at all.” The tiny voice came from right behind Jessie, and she turned in alarm, expecting someone to be standing right on the front walk, but she saw nobody. She did, however, feel a prodding sensation down at the seat of her diaper. “We can do so much better than this!” Jessie yelped and stepped forward, whirling again, and this time she saw her: Not even six inches tall, with iridescent butterfly wings, the pixie wore a simple blouse and long skirt with an apron over the ensemble. Jaw falling open, Jessie searched for words but found none. “Those mean girls just don’t understand,” the pixie said, shaking her head and frowning as she took a toothpick-sized wand from her apron’s pocket. “But don’t worry–I’m here to make sure that no Little Girls will ever have to hide what they are!” (What? ‘Little Girl?’ Is she talking about me?) Jessie wondered, but before she could ask the question aloud, the pixie flicked her want. With a burst of starry sparkles, magic burst into life, splashing against the front of Jessie’s diaper and dousing it with color. The plain white plastic poofed out like popcorn, doubling in thickness in an eyeblink, and the thin blue stripes and medical aesthetic were replaced with pinks and purples, a design dominated by a cutesy rabbit. “I–hey!” Jessie blurted, hands lowering to try and cover the infinitely more embarrassing diaper. She looked around, but her tormentor at the window had left. “What the heck?” “Oh, do you prefer the lions?” the pixie asked, tilting her head and tapping her wand against her lips. “You know, you Adult Babies have it easy these days–it wasn’t too long ago, you’d have to settle for solid colors if you got any designs at all! Now–that top, it’s just no good, is it?” Jessie’s eyes widened as she tried to understand what the pixie meant. (Adult Babies? What is she talking about?) Before any further objections could be raised, she flicked the star wand again, and the cut-off tee shirt spooled out, threading itself into a new form–it laced over her diaper and between her legs, metal buttons snapping snugly over her new, far thicker diaper. Jessie looked down at herself, eyes widening. Her outfit was infinitely worse–at least the crop top could claim to have a little sex appeal, but the bright pink onesie had rainbows and unicorns printed all across it, and over her uniquely puffy bottom, glittery ruffles poofed into existence as the finishing touch. She gaped, turning to try and get a look at the ruffles, spinning in place for a few steps. “Stop it!” she yelped. “I don’t want any of this baby crap!” The pixie rolled her eyes and sighed in a good natured way. “Sweetie, just because those other girls tease you doesn’t mean you should hide who you are–but if you won’t allow yourself to be yourself, I’ll happily give you a little nudge in that direction!” Flitting around Jessie, she tapped her wand right over the woman’s onesie-covered tummy, and the magic kicked in immediately. Jessie felt sudden warmth burst into her diaper as her bladder drained without warning, quickly soaking into the thirsty padding. She lowered her hands to cover her crotch, though the onesie did an admirable job of hiding the accident. The snaps even prevented much in the way of diaper sag, but while it could hide her accidents, it couldn’t prevent them. Even as she bent to try and conceal her humiliating clothes, she felt a gurgling in her belly. When she tried to clench, Jessie found she had no control, and so she couldn’t stop herself from immediately pushing out the contents of her bowels into the diaper. Her attempts to stop the accident only emphasized how helpless she’d become, unable to stem the tide of gross mush that swelled against her skin. She blushed, her cheeks feeling almost as warm as her saturated diaper, humiliation building as the back of her diaper bulged and grew heavy, enough that even her onesie struggled a bit, stretching and succumbing to the telltale sag that indicated a dirty diaper to observant onlookers. “You–you little imp!” Jessie snarled, raging at the fairy. “I don’t hate this just because they’re teasing me! Why can’t you just do what I want you to do? I don’t. Like. Diapers!” “If you don’t, then why did you put one on for everyone to see? Someone’s knee-deep in denial, I think!” The pixie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, though since hovered like a hummingbird, the taps just fell on thin air. “A certain Little Girl sure is being fussy. I’d normally think it’s because she needs a change, but she was like this before, so maybe she just needs to relax a bit and get off her feet.” Jessie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, no–” But the spell was already cast, and her knees wobbled like jelly as the pixie stole her balance. Falling back, she plopped down onto the ground, landing on her ruffled diaper seat with a mucky squish that made her blush increase in intensity. “A little rest will do you good, and if you need to get around, you can have fun crawling, Littles always like that,” the fairy cooed. “And I must say–you’re much cuter like th–” “Put me back!” Jessie demanded, mortified, worried that one of the sorority sisters might snap another photo of her like this. Spread-legged on the ground, in a diaper full enough to strain the snaps on her baby doll onesie, she would give anything to make sure nobody got a photo of this. “Before someone sees!” “Oh, fuss, fuss, fuss.” The fairy flicked her wrist casually, and a pacifier appeared between Jessie’s lips, one that was specially sealed so that only a grown up could remove it. She grumbled into it, face screwing up in petulant anger, but the fairy ignored her, scratching her chin in thought. “Okay, she’s clearly upset–but what else could a Little want? I’ve given her all the general fantasies, so…” A few giggles echoed from behind the sorority house door, and the fairy–invisible to everyone but Jessie–snapped her fingers as she understood. Floating down to hover in front of Jessie’s teary, humiliated, and particularly angry face, the fairy said, “I know what it is, sweetie–you’re embarrassed, because you don’t want the other girls to see what a cute baby you are. But, don’t worry, I’m going to fix all of this.” Jessie started to relax, until she added, “Let’s just clear up all those nasty big girl thoughts, okay?” “Nnmmph!” Jessie blabbered into her pacifier, too late to stop a spark of magic from tapping her right between the eyes, and… (Um…) (Why was I cranky?) Jessie blinked a few times, a thin line of drool trickling out from behind her pacifier guard. She looked up at the fairy, eyes slightly hazed. She was a bit cold, but not terribly. Her diaper felt nice and warm and squishy, and her pacifier helped her calm down a bit. Something smelled, but it didn’t bother her terribly much, she just needed… (What do I need?) “Alright, little one,” the fairy said. “I have one more thing to take care of–and remember, magic is real, and wishes for Little Girls do come true!” With a puff of glitter, she darted off into the night, leaving Jessie alone. She still felt her heart pound with anxiety, but couldn’t place why. (I don’t gotta potty, I…the diapers…my diapers make sure I’m safe!) (Um…) (I’m so pretty, pink is such a nice color!) But, if she liked everything about herself–her diaper, her pacifier, her onesie–why did she still feel worried? She sniffled, uncertain why she felt like she might cry, but before her unfamiliar emotions overwhelmed her, she saw something blue. (I like blue!) It wasn’t just any old blue thing though, it was a blue car. A big blue car that could go really fast! Maybe she could sit on Daddy’s lap and he’d let her turn the steering wheel– (Oh! Daddy!) Jamie got out of the driver’s side, eyes widening when he saw her sitting on the ground. “Jessie?” he called, quickly running over to her, crouching by her side. “Shh, baby, it’s okay–Daddy’s here.” She giggled, opening her arms for a hug. More than just hugging her, Jamie scooped her up, lifting Jessie off the ground. He was strong, and she was light enough to always get picked as the flier on the cheer squad, so he hefted her easily, one hand cradling the seat of her diaper. “Smells like someone needs a freshie,” he said, giving her bottom a playful squeeze. “We’ll get that taken care of soon, okay?” Jessie squirmed happily–this was what she’d been missing. Her boyfriend–her daddy, here to take care of her. Carrying her to his car, Jamie paused by the door, removing the pacifier from between Jessie’s lips. “Who’s my lovely little baby girl?” he asked, cooing at her. She could have answered with words, but she knew a better way. Leaning up, she kissed him, and he held her close as he kissed her back. In the distance, a diminutive fairy watched, smiling at the scene, content with how she’d handled it. Though noone was around to hear, she whispered to herself, a quiet affirmation. “Another happy ending.” There were more and more little girls every night, it seemed–and she would give them all what they wanted, just like she had with Jessie. ... Written for bricks66 Comments and feedback always appreciated! Hey y'all, I could use a favor! gofund.me/37aecafd I'm raising money to help a friend and ABDL colleague of mine move after finding out she's going to be out of job and home soon. Let's show her some love, ok? I normally try and promote my own work here, but right now I want to make sure that another author and cool person in the community is taken care of. ❤️

Ted’s ass quickly went aflame. He was astounded by how hard Stacey could hit him with just her bare hand. As she expertly spread her spanks over every part of Ted’s cute backside, the boy began to wriggle on her lap. As much as it hurt, the spanking was sending vibrations through Ted’s most sensitive areas. Despite being treated in such a humiliating way, he found blood rushing to his cock. Overall, he was very aroused by the situation. Stacey was well aware of Ted’s excitement. She too felt a warming between her legs. The dominance she exerted over him was thrilling and titillating. And she took note of how firm and round Ted’s ass was. Much as she was enjoying herself, she was also determined to teach him a lesson. Stacey brought her hand down with force, crisply smacking his reddening bottom again and again. She began scolding him, hoping to add to his embarrassment. “I hope you feel ashamed of yourself. We made our expectations very clear when you moved in here.” Stacey continued her rhythmic barrage as she lectured, alternating cheeks. “And you failed to meet those expectations. Now you have to face the consequences.” The scolding was having the desired effect. Ted did feel ashamed. His shoulders slumped and his body relaxed. He gave into the punishment, knowing that he fully deserved it. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, feeling very small. “You will be,” Stacey barked ominously. She stopped spanking for a moment, but held Ted firmly across her lap. She let her hand rest on his bare butt, feeling the heat she had created. “What do you think, La? Is his butt warmed up enough for the paddle?” Lara jumped up from the couch and circled around behind to inspect Ted’s bottom. “Let’s see,” she said, extending a hand to gently rub and pinch Ted’s naked backside. “It’s a nice shade of pink, but I think this butt could be redder before I take my paddle to it.” Lara reared and smacked him hard three times on each cheek, making Ted flinch and grunt. She too was turned on by the young man’s muscular backside, and by his submissive wriggling over Stacey’s lap. “Ok then,” Stacey said, resuming the spanking. “Let’s add some color to this tushie.” Ted’s discomfort was growing, both from the sting in his butt and the intense humiliation. The way the girls talked about him as though he wasn’t right there, inspecting his bare bottom, made his face blush just as red as his butt. Stacey’s infantile mention of his “tushie,” made his face turn just as red as his butt. He truly felt like a misbehaved little boy who was being taught a lesson. Stacey spanked Ted hard for another five minutes or so. Finally, just when he felt tears begin to well in his eyes, she stopped. “Alright buster,” she said with a final smack to his rear. “Stand up.” Ted stood and immediately reached behind to try to rub out the sting in his ass. Stacey quickly smacked his hands away. “You stop it bad boy! That smarting bottom is there to teach you a lesson. Don’t you try to rub it out.” She grabbed his wrists in one hand and spanked him again, hard, with the other. Ted yelped and jumped in the air. “Now get over there and take the rest of your punishment,” Stacey said, pointing to the edge of the couch where Lara stood tapping the heavy paddle against her thigh. Ted’s heart sank. His ass was already very sore. He felt truly contrite, and he knew he’d never again try to throw a party behind his roommates’ back. He stared at Lara, his lip quivering slightly. A tear streaked his cheek, and he burst. “Please! Please don’t paddle me! I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. It will never happen again, please. I’ll clean the apartment for the rest of the semester! Please please!” Lara felt a smile curl in the corners of her mouth. A brief wave of sympathy rose in her. Ted had already been thoroughly spanked, and she did believe him that it wouldn’t happen again. She considered whether to let him off this time. But only for a moment. The hard paddle felt good in her hand. Many times she had fantasized about applying it to Ted’s bare butt. No way was she passing up this opportunity. “I don’t think so, my friend,” she said. “I know you heard this paddle in use the other night. It’s time for you to fully understand what it feels like to break the rules around here.” Ted silently wiped his tears and hung his head. He stood frozen on the floor, his sweatpants still hanging just below his bottom. Despite his shame, a large erection held them up in the front. Lara pointed to the arm of the sofa. “Bend over and take your medicine.” She noticed the massive bulge in the front of his pants and felt her own arousal multiply. Ted shuffled over toward the couch, both hands gripping his waistband in the front hoping to protect some level of modesty. Turned on by both Ted’s hard on and his childlike submission to her, Lara couldn’t help herself. She cracked him gently on the knuckles with the paddle to move his hands away, then quickly yanked his pants to his ankles. Ted stumbled and fell forward. Lara caught him by the arm and guided him over the arm of the couch. His face buried in the cushion, ass straight up in the air, Ted was in position. Lara moved to his side. Placing her left hand in the small of his back to steady him, she tapped the paddle against his bright red bottom. She paused a moment, then took Ted by the hips to adjust him. Squaring him up evenly, she pushed him forward so that his toes barely touched the hard wood floor. Ted heard Stacey move around behind him, seemingly to get a better view. Humiliated, he turned his head into the the back of the couch to hide his face. Lara took aim again, and Ted flinched as the hard wood tapped his upper thighs. “I’m going to give you fifteen swats,” Lara said firmly, “the same number Stacey and I got the first time we spanked one another.” The words sunk in for Ted. The scene he had been visualizing - dreaming and fantasizing about - was real. And he was about to find out just how real. Lara slapped him a little harder, bouncing the heavy paddle off his left cheek. Ted gasped and jolted. Lara pushed down hard on his back. “You hold still. If you move out of position or try to cover up your butt, the swat won’t count. Understand?” Ted nodded slightly, unable to speak. Lara cracked him hard across both cheeks. “UNDERSTAND??!” “Owwww!! Yes!! Aaahhh!!” Ted wailed into the couch cushion, trying desperately to hold still. “Good. Now you go ahead and cry if you need to. This is going to hurt, young man.” The force of the first spank took Ted’s breath away. He arched his back, pulled up his head, and dropped his jaw. The searing heat explodes across his entire ass. Lara waited just until she saw him inhale and let out a muted squeal, then hit him again with all her strength. The loud spank was nothing compared to the wail Ted let out. Finally finding his voice, he howled. “Aaaaahhhhhhhhooowwwww!” Lara took aim. “Remember to stay still. You know you deserve this, you bad boy.” Ted buried his face in the couch and began to sob as the third smack landed. Seeing his will break, Lara got on with it. “That was three,” she said pulling the paddle back above her head. “And here is FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT!!” Lara expertly spread the swats to every part of his backside. Both cheeks bore the beginnings of bruises. The boy wailed and bawled as the paddle fell. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this kind of pain. He kicked his feet, his toes tapping the floor. Lara wrapped her free arm around his waist. “Hold still. More than halfway there. Seven more.” She tightened her grip, both around Ted’s waist and on her implement. She felt an adrenaline rush, and the warmth between her legs continued to grow. The paddle rested against the naughty boy’s sore bottom. “Nine! Ten!” Lara called out as she hit him in quick succession. She felt Ted’s body go limp as he wailed sobbed uncontrollably into the couch cushion. “Five more,” Lara chided, releasing her grip. “I want you to think hard about why you’re being spanked.” She smacked him hard. He cried out. “You are being spanked,” SMACK “because you” SMACK “broke your” SMACK “promise!!” SMACK Ted could only sob and kick his feet as Lara abused his backside. He had lost every ounce of pride. He just wanted it to stop. Lara made the last one count. She brought the paddle down with such force, Ted fell to his knees. He collapsed into a puddle on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks and snot from his nose. The girls let him lie there, standing over him, until he caught his breath. Finally, through his sniffles, he murmured, “I… I… I’m… s…sorry…” Immediately, both Stacey and Lara knelt down and put their arms around him. “We know you are,” whispered Lara. “And we know it won’t happen again,” said Stacey, rubbing his swollen bottom. Ted continued crying softly as the girls held him. The three of them basked in the tender moment. Finally, Stacey tapped Ted’s butt. “I think some time in the corner will help you calm down. Then you’ve got quite a bit of cleaning up to do, buster.” Ted shifted to his feet and wiped his nose. Lara took him by the elbow and led him to the corner of the room. Ted stumbled with his pants still around his ankles. Lara guided him face first against the wall and put his hands on his head. “No rubbing,” she warned, with a sharp smack. “Or else.” Ted whimpered, but stood perfectly still and said nothing. Stacey took out her phone. “I’m setting a timer for ten minutes. I want you to think about your bad behavior and the consequences of that behavior. Then you can pull your pants back up and get to cleaning.” “Ok,” Ted croaked, still sniffling. As the timer started, the girls stood for a few moments to admire their handiwork. Ted’s ass and thighs were deeply bruised. They felt quite pleased with how soundly he had been punished, and they were ecstatic with how willingly he had taken it. At last, they left him there, propped in the corner like a naughty boy with nothing but his thoughts and his smarting bottom.

So it begins... Chapter 5 - Rules I yawned and stretched as I heard a gentle knock on the door, pulling me from the depths of sleep. Nestled in the warmth of the bed, I blinked sleepily, taking in the plush surroundings of the guestroom in John's penthouse. The soft sheets cocooned me, and the oversized pillows cradled my back as I sat up. "I could definitely get used to this," I mumbled to myself, my fingers raking through my messy hair as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. John's entrance interrupted my sleepy reverie, his presence startling me, causing a flutter of surprise in my chest. "Good morning, Feli," he greeted me, his lips curved into a teasing smile. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness at his sudden appearance. "Don't give me that look," he chuckled. "It's your first day on the job, baby," he added, his tone playful as he emphasized the word "baby," sending a jolt of realization through me as memories of our conversation from the previous night flooded my mind. "Good morning, John," I greeted him, my voice a tad shaky as I tried to muster up some confidence, my gaze meeting his. His stern correction sent a shiver down my spine. "It's 'Daddy' for you," he reminded me firmly, though his tone softened with reassurance. "But don't worry about that. We haven't gone over your rules yet anyway," he added, his words leaving me feeling a bit flustered. Clutching the blanket tightly around me, I swallowed hard, a faint blush creeping onto my cheeks. Still curled up on the bed, I watched as he spoke, his commanding presence leaving me feeling both nervous and intrigued. "Go and take a shower," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll begin once you're done." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. I let out a sigh of mixed emotions as I relaxed my grip on the blanket, feeling a sense of anticipation settling over me. "So it begins," I whispered to myself, the weight of the day ahead sinking in as I slowly rose from the bed and made my way toward the en-suite bathroom. Emerging from the en-suite, fresh from my morning routine of multitasking tooth brushing and toilet time - for some reason I always have to pee when brushing my teeth - followed by a shower, I found John seated on the already neatly made bed, his gaze fixed on me as I approached. With my wet black hair clinging to my shoulders and just a towel wrapped around me, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. His eyes trailed over me, a hint of admiration flickering within them, making me squirm slightly under his intense gaze. As I slowly came closer to him, I noticed the items he had laid out beside him on the bed, my apprehension mounting. "What's that?" I asked with apprehension as I gestured towards the items. John's eyes followed my direction and fell on the items as he took them in his hand and showed them to me. "Well, this is a diaper, obviously," he began holding up a folded up white rectangle which looked to be made out of some kind of plastic, but it did look kind of fluffy "and this is baby powder to prevent rashes," he continued. I gulped. "Are you.." I began asking nervously but he interrupted me. "Well yes, I'm going to change you. This is what all this is about after all, isn't it?" I nodded at that but swallowed hard. I hadn't thought this far. "But I.." I began stammering, "But you..." I swallowed again, not finding the words to the turmoil in my head. "But I will see you naked? Is this what you're worried about?" He finished my sentence for me and I nodded, blushing hard. He sighed and his shoulders slumped, he looked at the ground for a moment thinking about what to say next. He looked at me with warm but kind of defeated looking eyes. "Alright here," he started, holding out the items for me "you can use the en-suite." My eyes lit up at the prospect of doing it myself. I took the items from him, but as I was about to go to the bathroom, he stopped me in my tracks with a stern voice, my back still facing him. "But this is the only time I will allow you to do this yourself" he said firmly "remember. We have a contract!" I swallowed hard at the last words, realizing I'm on thin ice already. I nodded without even looking at him before continuing my way to the en-suite. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I let out a sigh, scolding myself for the nerves that plagued me. I really wanted to do what he wanted of me, but it was just so difficult for me. Nobody had seen me naked for over 10 years. I glanced down at the items in my hand, tracing my fingers over the plastic of the diaper. "I need to do this," I muttered to myself, determination simmering within me. "This is my chance to change my life. I can't mess this up before it even starts." With newfound resolve, I unfolded the diaper and held it out in front of me, scrutinizing it carefully. Turning it around several times, I ensured I had the orientation correct before laying it out on the heated bathroom tiles. Lowering myself onto it, I was grateful for the warmth seeping through the floor. Lying there on the open diaper, I contemplated the baby powder, deciding it wasn't necessary for now. Bringing the front of the diaper up between my legs, I adjusted it awkwardly before clumsily fastening the tapes into place. Standing back up, I couldn't help but feel the odd sensation of the padding between my legs, both strange and oddly comforting. Inspecting myself in the mirror, I was surprised by the transformation. Despite being 18, I always thought I looked 15 when standing naked in front of a mirror. Yet, with just this one item around my waist, I was sure I looked more like 10 this time. Glancing at my chest, I realized I had nothing to cover it with, but the thought of John seeing my bare chest didn't bother me as much as I expected. There wasn't much to see there anyway. Taking a deep breath, I summoned my courage and stepped out of the bathroom once more, ready to face whatever lay ahead. John awaited me on the bed once again, surrounded by a collection of clothes, leaving me curious about their origin. "Come here," he directed, prompting me to cautiously approach him, stopping just out of reach. "Come on," he urged gently, motioning for me to step closer. "I won't take it off, I promise, but I need to adjust it a little," he assured me,and I took one more step towards him. "You do realize that I will have to see you naked sooner or later anyway, right?" he inquired, his tone firm yet understanding, as he deftly adjusted the diaper's tapes for a better fit. Nervously, I nodded, aware of the inevitability despite my unpreparedness. I did know that. I just wasn't ready for it yet. "Will this be a problem next time?" he pressed, his gaze steady. Determined, I shook my head, resolving to be stronger next time. "Okay, good," he acknowledged before drawing my attention to the clothing beside him. "I've got a few different dresses here,” he began as he gestured to the assortment of dresses next to him, “I didn't know your size, so I thought we'd just try some on." I looked them over. They were mostly plain in dark pastel colors, but with a somewhat childish design. "Arms up," he instructed, and I complied, allowing him to try each dress on me one by one. They were all too big for me, leaving me even more curious about their origin. "Why do you have so many dresses that don't even fit me?" I pondered aloud, caught off guard by my own words. John chuckled at my question but brushed it off quickly. "Don't worry about it. You will find out soon enough," he replied cryptically, leaving me to raise an eyebrow at him before dropping the subject. The last dress he placed on me was the smallest of the bunch. It was a dark violet party dress, the hue reminiscent of a warm summer night, with short sleeves, a high neckline, and a full skirt adorned with small ruffles at the hem. Scattered across the soft mesh of the sleeves and skirt were tiny stars sewn into the fabric. It was enchanting, though it undeniably accentuated my youthful appearance, especially since it was still a tad too big for my frame. As I looked down at myself, admiring the stars sprinkled across the dress, a small smile tugged at my lips. "You really like stars, don't you?" John chuckled softly, observing my fascination with the garment. Blushing slightly, I nodded meekly, feeling a warmth spread through me at his observation. With the ordeal of trying on dresses finally over, he pulled some white tights up my legs, fitting them snugly over my diaper and keeping it firmly in place. It felt strange, but I trusted his judgment as he adjusted my dress slightly. Surveying me with a satisfied expression, he spoke up again. "Alright, kneel down on the floor in front of me, back towards me," he commanded once more in that stern tone of voice, and I complied without hesitation. I settled my back against the side of the bed between his legs as he began brushing my hair slowly and tenderly. Closing my eyes slowly, I allowed myself to relax, melting into the soothing touch of his hand. It was surprisingly comforting, and I found myself drifting into a state of tranquility. After a while, he started braiding my hair, his gentle fingers working through the strands with a practiced ease. His soft touch massaged my scalp, sending a wave of contentment through me. I sighed in contentment, feeling completely at ease in his presence. He chuckled softly, but this time, I didn't mind. I was fully relaxed, savoring this rare moment of peace. "Alright, we're done," he suddenly announced, startling me out of my daze. I hadn't realized how much time had passed. Taking my hand, he helped me back to my feet and led me into the en-suite. Standing me in front of the mirror, he positioned himself behind me, his hands resting firmly on my shoulders as we both observed my reflection. "What do you think?" he asked enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eyes. But I was still mesmerized by what I saw before me. There I stood, but I didn't recognize myself. My eyes sparkled with a deep blue hue, my skin a healthy pale, and my black hair meticulously braided into two elegant French braids, leaving me to wonder where he learned such a skill. And my dress, the dark purple fabric reminiscent of a starry night sky, left me in awe. "I- I- I look like I'm 10," I began stammering, still transfixed by my own reflection. His warm gaze searched for mine, locking eyes with me before he spoke again. "Yes. Yes, you do. But most importantly, you look beautiful," his voice radiating reassurance. I looked back at myself, the word "beautiful" echoing in my mind. It was a word I hadn't heard in years, at least not in regards to me. "Beautiful," I whispered, the word hanging in the air, filling me with a sense of wonder and newfound confidence, as a sole tear escaped my eyes. We were both lost in my reflection when suddenly my stomach started growling, demanding attention, startling us both. I furrowed my brows as I stared at it, disappointed that it had outed me like that. But John just chuckled, his warm laughter filling the room. "Sounds like my baby is hungry. I think it's time to get some breakfast," he said, looking into my eyes through the mirror as I nodded in agreement. Taking my hand, he led me out of the guestroom. After closing the door behind us, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, locking the door with a decisive click. I looked at him with wide eyes, surprised by his action, and he must've sensed my question as he immediately started explaining himself. "This room is off-limits for now," he clarified, his voice reassuring. "I will unlock it in a week when you have your day off." With that settled, he grabbed my hand again and led me towards the kitchen, leaving my lingering question unanswered for now. As we walked, I couldn't help but wonder where I would be sleeping, but with how meticulously he had planned everything so far, I trusted that he would have a solution for that when the time came. As we approached the kitchen, the sounds of bustling activity and the enticing aroma of breakfast grew stronger, causing my nerves to kick in. I instinctively tightened my grip on John's hand, feeling a wave of apprehension wash over me. I hadn't expected anyone else to be here, and I certainly hadn't anticipated being seen like this, at least not so soon. Upon entering the kitchen, I was met with Marge's warm smile as she busied herself cooking breakfast. "Good morning, Miss Feli," she greeted me cheerfully. "I must say, you look very pretty today," she added, her compliment catching me off guard. Though mortified by her observation, a small part of me couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at being called pretty. Sensing my nervousness, John stepped in to address the situation. "I told you yesterday that Marge signed an NDA too when she began working for me, right?" he asked me, and I nodded, albeit still a bit nervously. It dawned on me that this meant Marge also knew the reason why I was here in the first place. John led us to the dining table and I felt the cushion of the diaper beneath me as I settled into the chair. It was a strange sensation, but not uncomfortable. Surprisingly, I didn't mind it at all. After all, I was being handsomely compensated for this experience, even if it was a bit unconventional. Shortly after we were seated, Marge brought us some drinks. She placed a cup of coffee in front of John and a sippy cup in front of me. "Thank you, Marge," John remarked graciously, while I stared at the unusual beverage container in front of me with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. John chuckled at my expression. "That's all part of the deal," he explained, his tone reassuring. "Go on, take a sip," he commanded, and I nodded hesitantly. Picking up the sippy cup, I brought it to my lips, carefully taking the first sip. To my delight, it was orange juice. It felt a bit odd drinking from the sippy cup at first, but I quickly adapted to the experience. As I took another sip, I realized that I could live with this arrangement. As we waited for Marge to finish preparing breakfast, my mind buzzed with countless questions, pondering what else was in store for me. John watched me carefully, his eyes scanning for any hint of reaction. Eventually, he broke the silence, outlining the immediate plan. "Once we're done with breakfast, I'll have you write down your rules," he stated, pausing for my acknowledgment. "Rules?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Yes, rules. They will help you to know how to behave. They're not part of the contract because I may decide to adjust them over time," he explained, letting his words sink in. Instantly, I grasped the implications of them not being part of the contract. "What happens if I break them?" I asked nervously, feeling a knot form in my stomach. "Well, that depends on the rule and the severity of the breach, but I will punish you as I see fit," he replied matter-of-factly, causing me to swallow hard at the mention of punishment. Seeing the fear in my eyes, John hastened to reassure me. "Don't worry, I will not hurt you. I promised you that already. Legally, I'm not even allowed to," he reassured, easing my nerves slightly. "We will agree on the punishments together beforehand. You will write them down too. But even if I will not hurt you, they won't be pleasant either," he added, his words sending a shiver down my spine. The thought of being punished filled me with apprehension, and I gulped at the realization that I didn't want to experience it. Shortly after our discussion, breakfast was served. A plastic plate adorned with Disney princesses was placed in front of me, featuring a pancake already cut into pieces. Beside it, Marge set a plastic fork with a peculiar handle, resembling the ones small children use. Glancing over at John's plate, I noticed his pancakes were still intact, served on a normal plate with a regular fork and knife. While I understood the reasoning behind my setup, it still felt odd to witness. As I reached for the syrup in the middle of the table, John beat me to it, grabbing it before I could. I watched with a small pout as he poured syrup onto my pancake first, followed by his own. He chuckled at my expression, causing my pout to quickly morph into a blush. We ate in comfortable silence, savoring the delicious pancakes prepared by Marge. She truly was a talented cook. Once the pancakes had disappeared and Marge had cleared the table, I took the last sips of orange juice from my sippy cup, setting it down on the table with a contented sigh. John observed me closely as he sipped his coffee, chuckling again at my actions. He grabbed a napkin and reached across the table to wipe off my face and fingers. Bewilderment washed over me as he did so; I hadn't even realized that I had made a mess. After he finished, he held up the napkin for me to see, revealing stains of syrup all over it. My face flushed crimson with embarrassment, realizing my inadvertent clumsiness. Once I was cleaned up and the embarrassment subsided, John stood up from the table and grabbed my sippy cup. I watched him as he swiftly rinsed it out and then went to the fridge, refilling it with apple juice. He returned to me and handed me the sippy cup, prompting me to rise from my chair. The movement reminded me of the diaper beneath my dress, its crinkle audible as I stood up. "Alright then, are you ready for your rules?" John inquired, his gaze fixed on me as I nodded nervously. He guided me through the archway of the kitchen into the living room, where he instructed me to sit down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. "Wait here, I'll be right back," he instructed before disappearing into the corridor. Curiously, I watched him go, and within moments, he returned with a sheet of paper and some crayons, placing them on the table in front of me before taking a seat behind me on the couch. "So," John began, his voice steady, "I will dictate the rules to you, and you will write them down." I nodded, focusing on the paper as I reached for the crayons. It had been a while since I had used crayons. Scanning through the colors, I instinctively looked for a black one out of habit, but to my surprise, there were only a bunch of vibrant hues. Opting for a purple crayon instead, as it was the darkest shade of the ones available to me, I readied myself to receive his instructions. "Start with the title. Write 'Feli's Rules' at the top," John directed, and I complied, carefully tracing the letters onto the paper. As I poised the purple crayon over the next line, preparing to jot down the rules, he interrupted me. "How about you switch up the colors for each rule? It'll make it more fun," he suggested. I shrugged, not quite understanding what could be fun about writing down rules, but I followed his suggestion nonetheless. Setting aside the purple crayon, I picked up a blue one, waiting for him to continue. "Rule 1," John began, dictating the first rule, "I will always call Daddy 'Daddy' as long as nobody who doesn't already know is around." I carefully transcribed his words onto the paper, using the blue crayon for this rule. After jotting it down, I tilted my head back slightly to catch a glimpse of his face upside down. "How do I know who already knows about it?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued. He chuckled at my antics and gently moved my head back into position before responding. "If you're not sure, just call me John or Mr. Harrington. I won't punish you if you didn't know better," he clarified. I nodded in understanding. "Okay, Daddy," I replied tentatively, testing out the unfamiliar word on my tongue. I had never addressed someone as 'Daddy' before. My father always insisted on being called 'Father' or 'Sir,' sometimes even 'Mr. von Sterntal.' The thought made me cringe as I grabbed the light blue crayon and prepared to continue writing. "Rule 2," John continued, his voice firm, "I will always do as Daddy says." I transcribed the rule onto the paper with careful strokes. It wasn't surprising to see a rule like this, considering it was technically already outlined in the contract. As I wrote, it dawned on me that having this rule separate from the contract meant that John —Daddy, I corrected myself mentally— had the discretion to choose whether to use this rule or the contract if I refuse to follow his orders. While it still meant I was at his mercy, the realization brought a sense of relief. He could decide either way. However, I had no intention of breaking the rules anyway, so the distinction didn't bother me much. "Rule 3," he continued, his hand gently petting my head as he spoke, a gesture that I surprisingly found comforting. "No cursing." I transcribed this rule onto the paper with a green crayon this time. It seemed straightforward enough; I didn't curse much to begin with, so following this rule wouldn't be a challenge. As I wrote, I couldn't help but appreciate the warmth of his touch, a subtle reassurance amidst the process of establishing these rules. It felt oddly comforting, anchoring me in the moment despite the weight of the situation. With the rule written down, I set the crayon aside and picked up a yellow one instead. Embracing his touch, I waited for the next rule. "Rule 4," he continued, his voice gentle yet firm, "If Daddy puts my paci in my mouth, I'm not allowed to talk until he takes it out again." As he spoke, I titled my head back again to meet his gaze, seeking clarification. "My paci?" I queried, but instead of responding, he placed a pacifier between my lips. A moment of realization washed over me as I understood the purpose behind this rule. "Oh," I mumbled through the pacifier, the words muffled by its presence. It seemed he had used the pacifier as a demonstration rather than enforcing the rule immediately. Shortly after, he removed it from my mouth and set it on the table beside the crayons. Gazing at the pacifier, I observed its color, a matching shade of purple to my dress, adorned with a delicate white star on the front. I liked that. I quickly jotted down the rule, swapping my crayon for an orange one in anticipation of his next directive. "And finally, Rule 5," he dictated, his tone steady, "I will eat what Daddy gives me." I obediently transcribed the rule onto the paper. While I didn't quite understand the necessity of this rule, given that I wasn't a picky eater, I wrote it down nonetheless. Easy rules were less likely to be broken, after all. As I finished writing the last rule, I felt a growing discomfort in my bladder, signaling the need to use the bathroom soon. "Daddy," I began, addressing him tentatively, "I need to pee." However, he simply chuckled in response, leaving me puzzled by his reaction.

Her mom was crying. Hortensia’s mind was going blank from the stress. She sat across from her at a table in the prison visiting center. “Why didn’t you tell me?” her mom asked, doing what she had referred to as “ugly crying”. Hortensia sank down, glad for the nappies extra cushion on the hard bench seats. She was trying to hide her watering eyes. She didn’t want to do this in front of everyone. Miss Honey, Brian, Matilda, Hazel, Zach, Nick, Aiden, Cynthia, Mrs. Rodgers and a police woman with a notepad were all here, having a “brainstorming session.” It was her moms idea, like a police interrogation with everyone, all at once, pointing fingers at each other and a cop taking notes. Her mom wanted to feel involved in the investigation and the warden allowed it given the “special circumstance”, so long as the officer in charge of the investigation was present. She wanted to meet them all before her transfer in two days. Wanted to meet Brian. And anyone else male Hortensia had been spending time with. All four of them had tested negative. She couldn’t believe her mom had made an eleven, and thirteen-year old get tested for an STD. Now everyone knew. And they demanded answers. Answers Hortensia didn’t have. “I don’t know.” Hortensia mumbled for what felt like the hundredth time. She looked down, chipping away at the fake wood table’s finish with her fingernail. “Sometimes, I just hurt.” There were specific times she could point to where something hadn’t been right. Like that summer a handful of years ago. She kept… sharting herself. That happened sometimes when she farted, but it had been happening worse than usual that summer. And her arse had been killing her. They had even sent her home from camp over it, and lectured her about her personal hygiene. “That’s why your fanny hurts so bad; you're sitting in poo and your skin got irritated.” The camp nurse had said. Her mother had not been happy to drive four hours round trip to pick her up. All because she’d been sharting herself and not wiping properly? But she couldn’t help it. The pain had been unbearable. She couldn’t stand the thought of one more hot and sticky, bug infested night in the forest. She couldn’t do any camp activities. She couldn’t sit for meals, and she couldn’t sleep. Finally, she had broken down in tears mid tennis match and demanded to go home. Everyone told her it was because she wasn’t wiping properly, but Hortensia had been sure the pain had started before the accidents. No one ever took her seriously. It made her blood boil. She had always wanted people to listen to her, and now that everyone was here hanging on her every word, Hortensia wanted to duck underneath the table and hide. This week had been humiliating. So many questions. So many people in her personal space. When would this all end? “You must have some idea!” her mom said. “I can’t.” Hortensia mumbled. “Tens, no matter what you say, you’re not going to get in trouble.” Jennifer said. “You wouldn’t believe me.” This meeting had been a mistake. Everyone had been at each other's throats. Her mom blamed Brian and Jennifer, Jennifer blamed Aiden, and Aiden and Cynthia blamed just Jennifer. “You’re the one who needs to be tested!” Cynthia shouted, pointing a finger at Miss Honey, who gawked. “I would never lay a hand on her!” Miss Honey hissed. “Never lay a hand on her?” Cynthia scoffed, “your hands have been all over her this whole time!” “That’s not the same thing!” Miss Honey argued, but Hortensia could feel Miss Honey remove her hand from her back just the same and put them under the table. Hortensia reached for it, and Miss Honey gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “What do you have against her?” Hortensia demanded. Cynthia looked surprised. They both gave Miss Honey dirty looks. “Why’d you make me beat up her car?” “Nobody made you beat up her car, you’re just refusing to take responsibility for your actions.” Cynthia said. “Aiden hit me in the face and told me if I didn’t make her quit he’d have the guards beat up mom!” “Oh, not this again!” Eve groaned. “It’s stories like this that make us not believe you.” “There’s no way for me to even get the guards to do that even if I wanted to. Your story telling needs work.” Aiden said, with his massive arms crossed across his ginormous chest. “Yeah it is! You could bribe them or something, I don’t know!” Hortensia said. “With what money? My business just went under!” “There was a day we found Hortensia with a bloody lip right before the incident with my car.” Miss Honey said. “I had assumed it was a teacher she had had an altercation with, but the teacher denied it.” “And we saw you at her house right before she went mental.” A voice threw out. All eyes turned to Zach and Nick who had remained quiet until now. “He’s the massive bloke we saw fighting with her.” Nick chimed in. “No! Th-that wasn’t me!” Aiden said. “How many 300 pound Islander men are there in this town?” Mrs. Rodgers asked. “Quite a few.” Cynthia growled. “His whole extended family is here!” “So you're throwing your own family under the bus?” Mrs. Rodgers asked, eyebrows raised. Cynthia went quiet. “I’d like to know what you have against Jenny as well. This whole time you’ve been dragging her through the mud. It feels personal.” Hortensia could see her mom’s eyes flicker between her and Aiden. “You were telling the truth?” Eve asked so quietly, Hortensia wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t been staring directly at her. Hortensia nodded. She turned to Aiden. “Why did you tell my daughter to break Jennifer’s car?” “You can’t believe this garbage, Eve, you know how she is. She has those temper tantrums and loses control.” Aiden said. “And I didn’t tell her to break her car!” “They saw you there.” Eve said. “You aren’t someone who can be easily mistaken.” “I was just there checking up on her, and she got mouthy.” “So you hit her in the face?” Eve asked. “A spanking I could understand, but…” “It was a slap! Open palm!” Aiden said. “She was bleeding.” Miss Honey said, glaring daggers at him. “My ring must have caught her lip.” Aiden mumbled. Her mom stared at both Aiden and Cynthia as if seeing them for the first time. “Honey, what did Aiden tell you, exactly?” “He told me if I helped him get rid of Miss Honey he could keep you from getting transferred, and if I didn’t, you’d get hurt.” “Why?” Eve asked him. Hortensia could see the cop in the corner furiously scribbling down their conversation. “Because she’s a dyke who shouldn’t be allowed to run a school full of children!” Cynthia spat. “All that work to get rid of the first dyke, only to get replaced by another!” The room went silent. “Why does everyone think I’m a lesbian?” Miss Honey asked. “Everyone knows you had an incestuous relationship with your aunt!” Cynthia said. “My aunt abused me!” “You know,” Mrs. Rodgers said calmly. “ I really have my doubts that Jennifer's sexual orientation has anything to do with this. See, the only reason you’d know Jenny was being abused is if you saw a certain letter they found in your best friend’s safe. So either you helped Eve blackmail Agatha Trunchbull, or you two are the ones who did and framed your best friend. How about you tell us about this company that went under? You wouldn’t happen to be in the publishing business, would you?” Hortensia could see the color drain from both of their faces. “What was that company called again?” “A.C.R Publishing.” Miss Honey said. “Ah, yes, and that wouldn’t happen to stand for Aiden and Cynthia Redding Publishing, would it?” Mrs. Rodgers asked. “We don’t have to sit here and take this bullshit anymore!” Cynthia shouted. They both stood up. “No, my mistake.” Mrs. Rodgers said. “It’s not Aiden and Cynthia Redding Publishing, is it? It’s Aiden and Christopher Redding Publishing.” She pulled a folded up piece of paper out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. “Jennifer, did you know there’s this thing called the internet where you can look up almost anything? Like businesses, and criminal records.” Hortensia picked up the piece of paper and blanched. It was a mugshot of a familiar looking man. “You leave my brother out of this! He’s turned his life around!” Aiden shouted. Cynthia was trying to pull him away by the arm. “Hortensia, what was it you were going to say?” Jennifer whispered in her ear. “You said, you didn’t think anyone would believe you? Now’s the time to say it.” Hortensia nodded, took a deep breath, and shouted to be heard over the arguing. “Do you remember that time you sent me to summer camp?” Everyone stared at her. Hortensia sank down in her seat. “When you had to drive four hours to come pick me up because my arse hurt.” she mumbled. “I remember that!” Eve said, but then frowned. “You don’t think it happened there, do you?” “I don’t know.” Hortensia said at the table, but it was her best guess. “I just woke up after the first night hurting.” “Camp Summercrest?” Matilda asked. Hortensia stared at her. “How’d you know?” “There was a shirt for it in the lost and found box. I was wearing it when you had to take me home that one time when I…” Hortensia let out a weak chuckle. She saw Miss Honey reach for the paper next. “It’s him.” Miss Honey said, dropping the paper as if it burned her. “Who is he?” “His brother.” Mrs. Rodgers said. “And?” she was staring at Hortensia and motioning with her hand for her to continue. “The youth pastor at our church.” Suddenly the room exploded in a cacophony of voices. Her mom and Cynthia were screaming at each other. Aiden had run. The cop taking notes was yelling for guards to stop him. Hortensia put her hands over her ears. She wanted to go home. Her stomach cramped. She could feel the nappy filling with hot liquid and she began to cry. … “You did good, sweetheart.” Jennifer said. “I know it’s hard to answer all those questions, but I’m so proud of you for being brave.” They had just gotten back from a real police interrogation where they both gave victim testimonies. She wiped her hands clean with a wet wipe and bunched up the soiled nappy before tossing it into a garbage bag. “I don’t remember.” Hortensia said. “I do.” Jennifer whispered. She knew he was the one who had assaulted her all those years ago. “There’s something called DNA. When you were in the hospital, and they did all those invasive tests, they took samples from you. They found male DNA inside you, and they’re going to test it against the samples they took from him.” “Okay.” Hortensia said softly. “And you know who else is in a lot of trouble?” Jennifer said, a slight grin on her face. “Cynthia and Aiden.” Hortensia smiled slightly. All thanks to Hortensia’s drawings. Jennifer had finally peeked at copies of them at the police station, but they hadn’t been what Jennifer had expected. They were horrific, but it wasn’t a story of Hortensia’s abuse, it was of Billy’s. The story featured a young blonde girl riding on her daddy’s shoulders. She liked being up high, and being able to see things she wouldn’t normally see. Like the inside of vehicles. And as the father and daughter were walking down the street, the little girl noticed something strange. “Daddy, what’s he doing with Billy?” The little girl asked. The tall, blonde haired man looked to where she’d pointed. He quickly removed her off her shoulder and put her on the ground. “Run home as fast as you can.” The man said. The little girl ran, but not home. She ran behind another car and watched. She saw her daddy nearly rip the door open and drag the man out. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Her daddy screamed. But the man pulled something black out of his pocket. There was a loud bang and suddenly, her daddy was on the ground. There was a red puddle forming around him. He stared up at her with wide vacant eyes, with a hole in his face. One of his eyes was gone. Jennifer knew that face well. She had seen it all over the pages of notebooks. The strange man did not know the girl was watching him. He was panicking. The man was large and strong, just like his brother. He picked up her daddy and threw him in the back of his truck along with Billy and covered them with a tarp. Then he got out and walked across the street to a familiar looking house. Aiden’s house. Hortensia had witnessed her father’s murder as a very small child. Too young to understand what she had just seen, but traumated none the less. Jennifer sighed and laid down on the bed next to her before wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you when you go back home.” Jennifer said. “You’re like my second daughter.” “You think mom will get out?” “As long as she doesn’t follow up on her threats to hit Cynthia over the head with a crowbar.” Jennifer said. “Speaking of…” she let go of the girl and rolled onto her feet. She offered Hortensia a hand up. “I have a surprise for you in the backyard.” Jennifer led her out blindfolded to where Brian, Matilda, Hazel, Zach and Nick all stood around eagerly before removing the blindfold. Hortensia looked around, frowning in confusion. “My surprise is a junkyard?” Hortensia asked with a laugh. The backyard was covered in tarps, and on them was a mismatched assortment of broken tellies, cracked statues, chipped vases, and other damaged items. “Yep.” Jennifer said, a wide smile on her face. She picked up a pair of safety goggles and put them on Hortensia’s face. “You’ve been going through so much, I figured you needed to blow off some steam by partaking in your favorite pastime of…” Jennifer handed her a bat. “breaking stuff.” Hortensia stared wide eyed at the array of junk and then at the bat. “You mean I get to…” Hortensia grinned. The first real smile Jennifer had seen in a long time. She gestured to the pile of junk. “Go nuts.” Jennifer watched the kids go nuts taking turns smashing things to bits. She even took a few swings herself before joining Brian on the patio. “Thank you for finding all this stuff.” Jennifer said. They had been going from yard sale to yard sale buying cheap, breakable looking items for the last month. “Half of it was in the dumpster behind the Salvation Army.” He grinned. Jennifer smiled at him before taking his hand. “I bet they won’t notice we’re gone.” She said. He chuckled and held her close for a moment. “What did you have in mind?” He asked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “What is it?” “My test results.” She said. “If she can do it, so can I.” He took the paper and read it before grinning, eyebrows raised. “Were you afraid of needles?” “That was not a blood test.” She shuddered. He laughed and kissed her. “And what would my brave girl like to do?” “Everything.” she whispered. “Ana-” “Okay, maybe not everything.” He laughed and took her hand before kissing it. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop, right?” She nodded. He put his forehead to hers. “I love you, Jenny.” “I love you too.” she whispered before taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs. … “Thank you Rachel, that’s right. I’m standing in front of West Bishop Church off London Ave where a local youth pastor has been taken away in handcuffs. Residents in this town are in an uproar. The man in question, Christopher Redding, is under suspicion of using his position to commit sexual acts against children. An investigation was launched when one of the children in his congregation was brought in to the local hospital where she was found to have several injuries consistant with sexual assault and a high level of a unnamed prescription sedative in her system. Police investigated Mr. Redding after a tip from another victim where multiple bottles of this same medication were found in his possession. The police believe Mr. Redding was slipping the sedatives into the grape juice used for communion and giving them to pre-selected children. Now police are asking for the cooperation of the public. Parents who have attended this church are being asked to sit down and have a difficult conversation with their children. A special task force has been formed as numerous potential victims have begun to come forward. Other members of the Redding family have also been taken into custody at this time on suspicion of aiding and abetting, blackmail, falsifying official documents, hindering a police investigation, second-degree murder, and abuse of a child under fourteen. Police have also confirmed Mr. Redding has been named as the prime suspect of the slaying of the nearly half- dozen bodies found earlier this summer. Dubbed as the Buckinghamshire Boy Butcher for his preferred choice of victims, this serial killer has left the city gripped in terror over the summer, but tonight, that fear may finally be over. Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families at this time. If convicted, the DA has announced he will be pushing for the death penalty. Back to you in the studio.” “Prayers? Psh, what a load of shi- Oww.” Hortensia grumbled and rubbed at the side of her head. Miss Honey turned off the tv. “Pay attention.” Matilda said, arms crossed across her chest. “Who left you in charge?” Hortensia grumbled. “I did.” Miss Honey said. “You’ve been out of school for a while, it’s time to catch up. I have to go to the office for a few hours. Poor Mr. Trilby’s been dragged out of retirement to help keep the place running since I’ve been gone.” “Where did your class leave off?” Hortensia pointed to a chapter. Matilda scoffed. “How were you only in chapter twelve? I’m going to graduate highschool before your class gets through this.” “Fine smarty pants, what chapter are you on?” Matilda scoffed again. “I finished that thing a month ago.” “A month ago? It hasn’t even been three full months into the school year. This is supposed to last all year. It’s a textbook.” “And this is why I pulled her out of the classroom.” Miss Honey said. “You guys were so slow!” Matilda groaned, her fingers dragging down her face for emphasis. “It was torture.” “You thought Mr. Larson’s class was slow?” Hortensia asked, eyebrows creased in disbelief before snorting. “What level of hell did you think you were in when you walked into Miss Honey’s class for the first time?” Hortensia chuckled. “The fourth.” Matilda admitted. “You didn’t like my classroom?” Miss Honey asked. “I did once you started giving me my own work to do, but those first few days.” Her eyes opened wide in mock horror. Miss Honey laughed. “I thought school was going to be educational. I walked in expecting to see the periodic table of elements, and got hit with the Abc’s.” “Maybe in high school. You couldn’t possibly have thought all the other runts were as smart as you?” Hortensia asked. Matilda shrugged. “I didn’t know I was smarter than them. It’s not like I had ever spent time with other kids my age.” Matilda said. “You had an older brother. Didn’t you see his homework?” Matilda scoffed. “As if he ever did his homework.” … Jennifer poked her head into Carol’s office. She was sitting at her desk staring down at a book. Jennifer knocked on the door as Carol slammed the book she was reading closed. “Jen, you’re back.” Carol said, a guilty smile on her face. “Slow day?” Jennifer laughed. She didn’t care if Carol was reading if it was slow. She wasn’t her boss. No wait, yes she was. “Two paper cuts and a crushed pinky finger.” Carol said with a shrug. “Not much to do without our problem child sending me skinned knees and bloody noses. How is she?” Jennifer sighed. “About as well as you can be going through something like that. Still incontinent though.” Jennifer said. “At least I’ve managed to get over it. Poor kid’s embarrassed enough without me gagging in front of her.” Carol grimaced. “At least she’s older and you don’t have to change nappies.” Jennifer grimaced. “Jen, she’s eleven-years-old. She is more than capable of cleaning up after herself.” Jennifer shook her head. “It’s complicated.” Jennifer said. “What’s complicated about it? Tell her where the cleaning supplies are. What are you babying her for?” Jennifer knitted her eyebrows together. “Because she isn’t capable of it.” Jennifer said. “The pain is gone, but it’s like her soul leaves her body the moment it happens. She’s like an empty shell until she’s clean. I have to literally lead her by the hand. She says she doesn’t remember the attacks, but our psychologist thinks the sensation of the sudden, involuntary, uh, pooping and the feeling of not being in control is triggering flashbacks.” “Her body remembers.” “Yeah, something like that.” Jennifer said. “It’s… hard to see her like this. ” “You’re like the Patron Saint of Lost Children.” Jennifer clenched her teeth. “I’d rather not be associated with any religion.” Rumors were spreading amongst the community of prior allegations. “They knew what he was doing with those kids. They were protecting him. Not the kids, but him.” “There’s more than a few people ready to scalp him.” Carol said. “Did you see that interview they aired of one of the parents?” “The one they had to bleep out every other word?” Jennifer asked with a slight smile. “He’s either getting lynched or murdered the moment the guards look away. He’ll get what’s coming to him. Even the other inmates don’t tolerate crimes against children.” “That’s what Brian said.” Jennifer said. Speaking of… She looked around the room. “Is there anyone here?” She whispered. Carol shook her head. “We, um…” Carol raised her eyebrows. “Had sex.” Jennifer mumbled. Carol grinned. She pushed a chair towards her. “You should have led with that. Sit. Spill.” “Oww!” Was all Jennifer could say. Carol gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’ll get better.” “The second time was better.” Jennifer agreed. “Third was the best.” “Third?” Carol nodded her head in approval, a large smile plastered on her face. “Look at you! Was it as scary as you thought it would be?” “The first time was. I was nervous he’d think I was too grotesque.” But he had gone out of his way to show her the scarring didn’t bother him. She blushed. She’d keep that memory to herself. “What was his reaction? Did he say anything?” He wasn’t talking, but his mouth had been plenty busy. “Umm, no.” “You use a condom?” “Carol!” She sighed. So nosey. “Neither of us have anything and it’s not like I can get pregnant.” “And did you get that verified by a licensed doctor like I told you to?” “Umm, no.” Jennifer admitted, shrinking back under her gaze. “Getting tested was bad enough. The nurse took one look, called the doctor in, who called another doctor in. I felt like half the clinic was staring at me. I was starting to wonder if I should start charging admission to come into the room.” “Well, I’m relieved to hear you don’t have Syphilis, and I’m proud of you for getting checked. It can cause much more serious health risks than a few sores if you leave it this long untreated.” “Not so loud!” Jennifer said with a cringe. There were already enough rumors about her without STD’s added to the mix. The women who worked in the office were gossip mongers. “They’ll hear you.” “Oh yes, you’ve missed all sorts of juicy gossip.” Carol chuckled. “I’ve been hearing all kinds of things about you and your boyfriend all week.” “He visited me at work one time.” Jennifer cringed. He hadn’t done anything. “And how would anyone know anything about him? He looked like any other parent with their kid.” She stared down Carol. “Unless someone let something slip…” She crossed her arms, fingers tapping anxiously. “Carol…” Carol shifted her eyes, a guilty grin twitched at the corners of her mouth. “I walked in on some ladies chatting in the teacher’s lounge.” “...And?” “I was only trying to help set the record straight…” Ignore it. Ignore it. Just ignore it. “What were they saying?” Jennifer asked, taking the bait. She was going to regret this. “That you were dating a woman from the bank.” Jennifer let her head fall in an exaggerated show of dismay. “Why does everyone think I’m a lesbian?” “So I told them the bloke with the kid the other day was your boyfriend.” “Oh, is that all?” She sank down in her chair in relief. “Want to hear my favorite one? These girls have quite the imagination.” “Fine, out with it.” “He’s been your secret lover for years, and he killed Agatha Trunchbull on your orders so you could openly be together.” They stared at each other in silence before erupting in laughter. “Hey, can I ask you something weird?” Jennifer asked. “There’s something I had been meaning to ask you since the revelation of the drugged juice.” “What’s that?” “It brought up a memory of getting something similar poured down my throat.” “Something to knock you out so you don’t fight back or make a commotion.” “Yeah, but I was wondering, something you told me about back then made me wonder. Did you have any memory gaps around the time you were held hostage?” She saw a strange look in Carol’s eyes. “Why do you ask?” “ I figured I had been drugged and that’s why I don’t remember much. But there is something I do remember. My aunt kept a bottle of expensive tequila in her desk drawer. I remember him finding it and pouring himself a drink.” “Is it still there? Party in your office?” “No, I think…we already drank it.” Jennifer said, studying her confused face. “I wasn’t watching what he was doing with it, but I remember he was holding it at one point. I was so angry at her I stole the bottle a few days later and put it in the vent in my room. You told me we drank it all when we were held there.” “Are you saying you roofied me?” Carol asked before letting out a sigh. “That…explains a few things.” “Like what?” “Like how I woke up with no idea where I was for the last five days with enough drugs in my system to sedate a horse. The hospital accused me of either stealing the drugs and going on a bender or trying to commit suicide. One day I was sitting in my car and saw you riding your bike and it started coming back, bit by bit.” “So you didn’t come back because…you forgot about me?” Jennifer asked. Carol grimaced and hung her head. Jennifer began to laugh. She couldn’t help it. This whole situation was so crazy. “I don’t know why, but that makes me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been going around this whole time thinking you abandoned me, well, since you told me about it.” “How is ‘I forgot you existed’ any better? I’ve felt terrible about it. Then I thought it was because of the carbon monoxide, but five days wouldn’t cause that, you’ve been breathing it in for years.” “Maybe it was both? Like a perfect storm of events. Drugs, carbon monoxide and trauma.” “Traumatised? I wasn’t the one traumatized. You and the kid, yes, but-” “You were held prisoner for five days with three other people eating nothing but expired MRES and beat up. Of course you were traumatized. It isn’t a contest.” Jennifer said. “Eve said we all thought we were going to be killed.” “It was looking that way.” Carol admitted. “At least the kid was young enough not to know what was going on.” “I saw her pictures at the police station.” Jennifer said. “Those were…” Carol let out an exaggerated breath. “No wonder she’s so messed up.” “She said she only drew a recurring nightmare, but our therapist thinks there’s truth to it. I think he’s the adult body they found with the kids.” “Yeah, yeah, I think so too.” Carol said. “Well,” Jennifer said standing up. “I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. I’ll let you get back to your book.” “Is she coming back to school soon?” Carol asked with a stretch. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. She keeps having these dissociative episodes. I might have to do what I did with Matilda and put another desk in my office and have her do independent studies.” Carol snickered. “Good luck getting anything done.” “No kidding.” Jennifer said as she walked out the door. The office staff greeted her warmly when she walked in. They asked her how her “vacation” was. One woman even thought she had gone to the Bahamas with her boyfriend. “One of my kids is sick.” Jennifer explained. They wished Matilda a speedy recovery. Jennifer didn’t correct them. She sat at her desk and scowled at the large pile of forms waiting for her. She was starting to understand why Agatha kept tequila in her desk. She really hated paperwork. Jennifer was only halfway through when the phone rang. Please don’t be Matilda. Please don’t be Matilda. It was.

Do it. "Reluctant" partners can take very quiet steps to engage deeper, and (in my experience) can be hurt when you don't play along. Worst case, she tells you she was just joking after you take it to the bar some night.

Happily back in the saddle (for now at least). Three times in March, and 5 in the last week.

Part of it is just how young both Becky and Veronica are. I would think that BB's doesn't usually have as many young people working at a given time. I think the Headmistress was addressing it by sending the new girls off to Nanny School. This would at least give them some experience before being thrown into the deep end. As you will see in the follow up story it is a real Nanny School (with a small twist)!

I've worn full time my entire life and never really cared much what others might think. That being said I've always worn baggier pants

Thank you for your kind comments, you're definitely not alone. I never expected to inspire anyone, but just document my padded journey for anyone who was curious. It's humbling that I can help in some way.

It's my birthday and Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth just came out, but I'm still taking time to give you all an update. You're welcome XD This chapter was really fun to write, and I hope you all love it as much as I do! Chapter Fifteen Ms. Akiyama was having a very different afternoon. About the time Rei was first finding Riley on the patio, Ms. Akiyama was pulling her car into a spot directly into front of a colorful, three-story concrete building. The outside walls were a continuous mural of girls of various ages playing. There was a large, wooden privacy fence that extended out from one corner of the building before wrapping around and connecting at the corner diagonal from the first. As she stepped out of her car, Ms. Akiyama could hear the gentle cacophony of girls playing from the other side of the fence. A large neon sign hung on the façade of the building with “Brighter Days Academy” spelled out in a rainbow. A smaller, more professional sign hung below that read “Institute of Behavioral Therapy for Young Adult Girls.” Ms. Akiyama walked through the tinted glass front doors into an immaculate and brightly-lit lobby. There were a few plush chairs set around the perimeter of the room that looked as though they had never been sat in, and neat piles of uncrumpled magazines sat on end tables by the chairs. There were wooden doors with spotless silver door handles to Ms. Akiyama’s right and left, and a reception desk directly in front of her. The desk was occupied with a young woman who clearly was the most organized receptionist any office had ever seen. Everything on her desk was neatly laid out and organized, not a thing seemed out of place, and everything seemed to have a place. She sat behind the desk, back straight, in a white blouse that left her warm beige arms bare. Her smile crinkled the corners of her brown eyes and showed off pearlescent brilliant teeth. Her nails were short but well-manicured, and her black hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. “Akiko” was printed on a name tag that was pinned to her chest. “Hello, welcome to Brighter Days Academy,” she chirped brightly. “How may I help you today?” Ms. Akiyama smiled at the young girl, vaguely wondering if she was old enough to be working as a receptionist in the first place. “I had an appointment for a consultation? Under Hana Akiyama?” “Fantastic,” Akiko replied as she turned towards her computer and began typing rapidly. “Yes, I see that appointment in the system. Thank you so much for coming in today, Mrs. Akiyama; we’re very excited to meet you and your child’s needs!” “Oh, Ms. Akiyama,” Ms. Akiyama corrected. “Oh, I’m very sorry,” the girl turned towards the computer, hit a few keys, and turned back, “I’ve corrected that in our system so it won’t happen again. Now, I see that,” she glanced towards the screen, “Dr. Welles will be your consultant today. I think you’ll like her; she’s very brilliant and will definitely be able to help you. I’ve already notified Dr. Welles that you are here, so she should be with you soon. Might I get you something to drink while you wait?” “A water would be wonderful, Akiko,” Ms. Akiyama responded with a smile. The young girl was so bright and cheerful, it was contagious. Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but wish Rei could be more like that. “Excellent, I’ll—” Before Akiko could finish the sentence, the door on Ms. Akiyama’s right opened, and a fit woman with brown, curly hair wearing a white lab coat over a tight black dress emerged with a clipboard in her hand. “Ms. Akiyama, I presume?” “Oh, um, yes,” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but be caught off guard by their promptness. “Yes, that’s me.” One thing was certain about this place; it was efficient. “Are you Dr. Welles?” “Please,” the woman said, extending one arm to shake Ms. Akiyama’s hand, “call me Emma. If you’d like to follow me, we can get started!” The woman couldn’t match Akiko for bright and cheery (and who could?), but she was doing her hardest. “I’ll bring your water in to you,” Akiko said as Ms. Akiyama began following Emma Welles through the door. The door led to a short, carpeted hallway with walls adorned with what looked like the art projects of children of various ages and proficiencies. At the end, the hallway turned left, and Ms. Akiyama found herself staring down a much longer hallway with doors along each side. “This is really just the administrative wing,” Emma explained, “the real fun stuff happens through the left door. But still, we need offices to get some work done, right?” She said it with the cadence of a joke, but Ms. Akiyama wasn’t sure she got the joke. She chuckled politely anyway. “Thank you for coming in today,” Emma continued as she led Ms. Akiyama down the hall, “I’m always excited to help new clients get started on reaching their goals. And I’m sure you’ll find that we are well equipped to help you reach those goals, regardless of what they are.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama replied, “I’m not really sure what my goals are, yet…exactly…” “And that’s okay!” Emma exclaimed. “We can help you with that, too. Here we go,” Emma stopped at one of the many doors, swung the door inward, and gestured for Ms. Akiyama to go ahead. The office was darker than what Ms. Akiyama had seen of the rest of the building by far. In contrast to the bright white, fluorescent lights of the hallway and lobby, Emma Welles’ office was lit by a few table lamps and the natural light streaming through the tinted windows that spanned the wall across from the door. A large desk made of dark wood dominated the room, flanked by shelves absolutely brimming with books. “Please,” Emma said, gesturing to one of the two plush chairs in front of the desk as she made her way around the desk to sit at the high-backed leather chair behind it. Ms. Akiyama noticed there were three more chairs pressed against the wall: all wooden, hard-backed chairs that looked better for your posture than your comfort. “So, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma said as she settled in to her chair, “tell me about your daughter.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama started then stopped speaking for a long beat, trying to figure out where to begin. “What’s her name?” Emma prompted when Ms. Akiyama was coming up short. She was used to this from new clients; so many of them were just in so over their head that they needed to be guided by the hand. “Rei.” “What a pretty name,” Emma managed to keep it from sounding like a practiced response, “and how is she?” “She’s nineteen.” “Ah, what a magical age,” Emma smiled warmly and began typing on her laptop, recording Ms. Akiyama’s responses. “And I assume she is not emancipated?” “Correct.” “Excellent,” of course, it wasn’t truly a barrier since parents could revoke emancipation at any time for any reason, but Emma always liked to get any potential complications out of the way first. “Does she attend school?” “Yes, Greenham Community College.” Emma made a disapproving sound in her throat as she typed, “mm, that’s risky, you know. She could be getting exposed to all sorts of…problematic ideas there. I don’t want to make any official recommendations until we’ve talked about your goals, but I definitely recommend removing her from the college setting. Most girls Rei’s age can’t handle that kind of environmentl; they aren’t mature enough to make the right choices, you know?” Ms. Akiyama smiled awkwardly, “it’s just…she likes school, I feel bad taking it away.” “Oh!” Emma exclaimed, “well, that’s wonderful. We love a little girl who loves school; but there are a lot of healthier options that will be better for her and her development into a happy adult that we can explore, okay?” “Oh, well, okay,” Ms. Akiyama said uncertainly. “Don’t worry, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma reached across the desk and gave Ms. Akiyama’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “I’m here to help and guide you through this. I know it’s a lot and that it can sometimes seem hard to make these calls. So many of the clients I see come in and tell me that they feel like bad parents, but you know what I tell them?” “What?” “That just by walking through those doors they’ve shown me that they are a great parent,” Emma smiled reassuringly. “Just by walking through that door, they’ve shown how much they care about doing what is right for their daughter, and isn’t that what makes a great parent?” “I…I guess so…” Ms. Akiyama had to admit it did make sense. “I know how hard it is these days, Ms. Akiyama. Things are so different than when we were kids; the parenting lessons we learned from our parents just don’t apply anymore! Even the things we learned as parents don’t seem right anymore. I’m a mother myself, Ms. Akiyama; I know how it can feel like you’re lost and don’t know how to be a parent anymore. But you’re still that great parent you always were; you just need new tools to deal with new problems. Don’t worry, we’re here to give you those tools and teach you how to use them.” Yes, that was exactly what Ms. Akiyama needed. She nodded, feeling a sense of resolve; she was doing the right thing. “Thank you, Emma,” she said, sincerely, “you don’t know how hard I’ve fought with myself over the decision to come here today.” “Well, we’re glad you’re here, and, more importantly, you’re going to be glad you’re here. And most importantly? Rei is going to be glad you came here, I promise. This can often be a rough road, and especially if Rei is used to being in college, she’s likely to throw a temper tantrum or two, okay? But every girl I see come through here leaves happier, healthier, and better adjusted.” “It’s a relief to hear you say that.” “So,” Emma said, turning back to the matter at hand, “Rei is 19 and attends community college. Is she…willful?” Ms. Akiyama chuckled, “a little, yes; she can be very hard-headed and stubborn.” “Mmm, I see,” Emma typed for a moment, “and does she get good grades?” “Oh, yes! Like I said, she loves school. If anything, she studies too much.” “Mmm, yes, we see that a lot in girls like Rei,” though Emma didn’t say quite what she meant by ‘girls like Rei.’ “Does she have a father figure?” Ms. Akiyama shook her head, “her father died of cancer some years ago.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma gave her a consoling smile. “Any other guardian or caretaker figures in her life?” “No.” “Any behavioral problems?” “No…well, not really, but…” “Go ahead, Ms. Akiyama, you can tell me.” “I recently found out she was taking a gender studies course—” “Goodness!” “—and she lied about it too.” “Oh my,” Emma shook her head, “that’s troubling. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what kind of filth those classes fill young girls’ heads with. I simply don’t understand why they still allow them to be taught. I’m glad you came in when you did, Ms. Akiyama; it sounds like Rei is need of major intervention.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama said nervously, “I don’t know about major. I was thinking more of…well, just something to curb her worse tendencies and make sure she stays out of trouble.” Emma turned away from the computer and fully towards Ms. Akiyama. “Let me ask you this: what are your goals for Rei? What do you want for her, ultimately?” Ms. Akiyama considered the question for a moment but gave the answer that had come to her immediately: “I just want her to be happy and safe.” “Girls like Rei have often already been exposed to ideas and radical leftist propaganda that can make it hard for them to be happy. Call it the legacy of so many years of misguided feminism. There are still some fringe elements pushing that feminist narrative, but we, as a culture, have moved past it, thank God. We know now that all the feminist dreck pushed by unhappy women was exactly what was making them unhappy; but some women refuse to accept that, and they push it on to young girls, girls like Rei, If you want Rei to be happy, you have to help her realize that all that stuff her college has put in her head is the reason she’ll never be happy. To put it bluntly, girls like Rei will never be happy until they accept their place in the world.” Before Ms. Akiyama could finish processing everything Emma had just said, there was a polite tapping at the door. “That must be Akiko with your water,” Emma said before calling out for the girl to come in. The door opened to admit Akiko, who Ms. Akiyama now saw was wearing brightly polished Mary Jane shoes, black knee socks, and a pleated black skirt that came to mid-thigh. She was carrying a small tray with a glass full of ice and a bottle of water that was sweating with condensation and walked with a bit of a waddle that explained the rustling Ms. Akiyama could hear from under the girls’ skirt. “Ms. Akiyama, your water,” she said as she set two coasters on the table before setting the glass and bottle of water down on top of them. Tucking the tray under her arm, she picked the bottle back up, cracked the seal, and poured it over the ice. “Is there anything else I may get for you, Ms. Akiyama?” “No, thank you so much.” “You are very welcome,” she beamed at Ms. Akiyama, then turned to Emma. “Dr. Welles, may I get you anything?” “No, thank you, Akiko, you may go,” Emma smiled as she watched the girl leave, then turned back to Ms. Akiyama. “Akiko is one of our students; she’s part of a work education program through her extended high school program. She’s a lovely girl.” “She seems so…happy,” Ms. Akiyama remarked, “I almost wish Rei were more like her,” she added giving voice to her earlier thoughts. “Rei can be,” Emma smiled, “after all, Brighter Days is responsible for molding Akiko into the girl she is today. It takes a lot of work though, Ms. Akiyama. You were saying you weren’t sure if you wanted to do any kind of major behavioral therapy for Rei, but I’ll caution you now that, based off what you’ve told me about Rei, she’s going to need more than just some minor adjustments to make sure she stays out of trouble.” Ms. Akiyama considered this for a moment. “What do you suggest?” she asked at last. “Well,” Emma leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, “as I already said, I think the first and most important step is getting her out of college.” Ms. Akiyama’s brow furrowed, “Rei won’t be happy about that.” “As I said, Ms. Akiyama, temper tantrums are just part of the process. Think of it this way: if she reacts poorly, that’s a sign that she’s not mature enough to handle herself.” “That…makes sense…” “And like I said, we love little girls that love school! We certainly don’t want to squash that love of learning and education; we just want to make sure it’s nurtured in a safe and healthy way that will help her grow up into a well-adjusted adult.” “Something like an extended high school program?” “Extended high school programs are really best for girls who are already on their way to growing up to be happy, healthy adult women. I recommend them most for girls whose parents are choosing to extend their teen years. It can also be a good starting point, a way to test the waters, if you will, for more drastic measures, or to see if they really are necessary in the first place. I’ll caution you, however, that this often isn’t enough for girls like Rei. If you really want to make sure she learns and more important accepts her place and grows up to be a healthy and happy adult, I highly recommend incorporating other behavioral therapies. In fact, in girls like Rei, we often see the problem behaviors become worse if you don’t use other behavioral therapies.” “Like what?” “Well,” Emma leaned forward in her chair, “potty training regression is certainly our most potent tool.” Ms. Akiyama nodded; she had expected this conversation to come up. She tried to picture Rei in a tshirt and diaper like Megan had been and just couldn’t muster the image. “I’m just…not sure about that…” “I understand, Ms. Akiyama, it seems drastic. But girls like Rei often need drastic measures.” “Rei is a good girl though, really,” Ms. Akiyama said. “She’s a little misguided right now, but she’s a good girl.” Emma gave her best reassuring smile, but she couldn’t keep all of the condescension out of it. “With respect, Ms. Akiyama, we here at Brighter Days have a lot of experience in these matters, and we’ve found that potty training regression is the backbone to any behavioral therapy treatment. While it’s true that it was once considered a radical technique, it’s not considered quite mainstream! Really, it is! Over 80% of young girls ages eighteen to twenty-eight wear pull-ups or diapers. Here, see for yourself.” Emma reached into her desk and produced a glossy pamphlet that she slid across the table. Ms. Akiyama picked the pamphlet up: the cover featured a girl in her early twenties whose body language spoke of a desperate need to pee and a older looking woman standing behind her with a knowing smile. The pamphlet was titled “Fast Facts About Potty Training Regression Therapy.” “To be honest, Emma,” Ms. Akiyama said, setting the pamphlet back on the desk, “I just don’t get it. It’s really only been lately that I’ve even considered any kind of…regressive behavioral therapy for Rei; I never quite understood why other parents thought it was good for their children. I think I’m finally starting to see the benefits of this kind of therapy, but…” Ms. Akiyama sighed and shook her head, “I just don’t understand why it’s necessary to put Rei…back in diapers.” Emma nodded understandingly, “Believe it or not, many of our clients have only recently begun to think about this therapy, and many express that same sentiment. You see, the whole reason we see so many behavioral problems in girls in the eighteen to twenty-eight range is that they still see themselves as adults. They have notions of independence and freedom that girls their age simply aren’t ready for. That’s why they are so susceptible to all the feminist drivel we were talking about earlier, right?” She chuckled dismissively. “So, you see, potty training regression is a way of kind of…dissuading them from such ideas. It’s hard to think you’re an adult who is ready to make decisions for themselves when you can’t keep your pants dry; I mean, just imagine that. Of course, that’s just the main benefit, there are numerous other benefits as well. For example, potty training regression strengthens the bond between mother and daughter by creating a feeling of dependency, and being reliant on mom for diaper changes can minimize time spent away from home. Not to mention, it discourages intimate behavior with boys.” Ms. Akiyama had picked up the pamphlet again and was scanning over the pages of the pamphlet as Emma spoke. What she was saying made sense, but…could she really do this? “I don’t know,” Ms. Akiyama set the pamphlet down again and looked at the woman across from her. “I guess this is a silly question but…is it…permanent?” “Oh, no, of course not,” Emma waved her the very notion of the idea away with her hand. “Once a girl is old enough and ready for it, she can always be re-potty trained. Of course,” Emma laughed, “some girls do have more problems with re-potty training than others, but that’s no different than the first time.” Ms. Akiyama smiled fondly and laughed lightly, suddenly she was a mom just gossiping about her kinds to another mom. “Rei was such a hassle to potty train; she’d die if anyone knew, but she was accident prone until she was 12 and wet the bed until she was 15.” Emma giggled and nodded, “that’s actually excellent news! Girls who were late potty trainers and/or bedwetters tend to be more susceptible to potty training regression. It suggests you will have excellent results!” Ms. Akiyama’s smile faded and she sighed. She was silent for a long moment; Emma recognized that thoughtful look from countless clients before Ms. Akiyama and gave the woman time to think. “Let’s say,” she said finally, “that I was actually considering doing this, and, really, that’s all I’m doing right now, how…how does it even work?” Emma grinned from ear to ear. “Well, Ms. Akiyama, we have so many tools and resources to help you with this process. And it is a process! While most of our clients see results within the first thirty days of starting therapy, you can’t expect results overnight. With the proper tools and strategies, most girls do see regression fairly quickly, but for some girls that first accident can take weeks. More importantly, the process is unique for each girl. For example, for some girls its enough just to put them in pull-ups and inevitably they give in themselves; that, of course, is not the kind of girl Rei is. For girls like Rei, it’s best to start with inducing accidents, making her doubt her own potty training, and leading her to pull-ups or even diapers from there.” “But…inducing accidents? How do you even start to do that?” “Well, if you decide to buy a therapy package from us, we will individualize a plan for Rei that will include a mix of methods, mostly likely including some medicines that will help loosen up her bladder, white noise induction machines for bedtime that will encourage bedwetting, a regiment of diuretics, and actionable plans to keep her distracted from using the toilet. If we couple this with enrollment at an extended high school program, we can write doctor’s notes instructing teachers to reinforce the therapy through prohibiting restroom breaks during class and other such strategies.” And that brought them to the question Ms. Akiyama had been dreading, “and, uh, how much do these therapy packages cost?” Emma smiled warmly, “there’s a misconception that these kinds of individualized behavioral therapy programs are expensive, and that’s because, well, that used to be the case! But the fact is, insurance companies are actually required to cover regressive behavioral therapy under the Hayes Act! You’ll pay a small copay depending on your insurance, and any prescription drugs we prescribe as part of your therapy plan will be covered as per any prescription. Of course, that is not to say there aren’t some financial burdens to this kind of therapy. For example, insurance companies usually do not cover things like new furniture for Rei’s new lifestyle and most other supplies you’ll likely need.” “Furniture?” “Oh, yes, you know, things like playpens, cribs, changing tables.” Ms. Akiyama shook her head, “well, I don’t think Rei will be needing any of that.” “Mm, of course not, but it’s good to know what’s covered and what’s not, just in case you decide to change your mind. And as for the other supplies, while insurance doesn’t cover things like bottles, sippy-cups, or pull-ups or diapers, we at Brighter Days partner with many manufacturers to offer starter packs and discounts on regular purchases. We can even sign you up for a delivery service that will keep you and Rei stocked in pull-ups or diapers. Or a mix of both!” Ms. Akiyama sighed, “I don’t know, this is a lot, isn’t it?” “It is,” Emma leaned forward in her chair and gave Ms. Akiyama a sympathetic look, “and that’s why we are here to help.” “I’m just not sure that Rei needs all of this…” “This can be a difficult decision for many parents, Ms. Akiyama, but keep in mind that the longer you wait, the more drastic the measures you may have to take.” Emma let that sink if for a minute, then continued, “Ms. Akiyama, may I make a suggestion?” A little hope flickered in Ms. Akiyama’s eyes amidst the confusion, “yes, please, I just…don’t even know where to start.” “That’s natural, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma said as she reached into her desk and pulled out a thick three-ring binder, “and that’s why so many parents come to us. This may all be very new and overwhelming for you, but we here at Brighter Days have seen it all and been through it so many times with children of various levels of resistance to this kind of therapy; we’re experts! You may not know where to begin, Ms. Akiyama, but we do.” She gave Ms. Akiyama her biggest, most confident smile and opened the binder to exact page she wanted (it was one of her most frequently used selling points, after all, so why not have it marked?). The top of the glossy page read “So, you’ve decided you want a daughter who wets the bed.” “Bedwetting?” Ms. Akiyama asked. “Bedwetting.” Emma replied confidently. “This is an excellent starting point, Ms. Akiyama. It can be perfect for minor attitude adjustments; so, if you’re right and Rei just needs a little push in the right direction, this might be all you need to get her there! It doesn’t impact her life outside of bedtime, still allows her to be independent and feel like ‘big girl,’ but still gives her that little bit of a nudge towards being the obedient daughter you are looking for! And if the worst case scenario happens and Rei needs a little stronger push, this establishes the foundation for further behavioral therapy perfectly.” “I suppose…I suppose that does make sense,” Ms. Akiyama replied after a moment of thought. She sighed. “I guess…my biggest reservation is that I’m still not sure how this all works. It’s not like she doesn’t know that this kind of…therapy exists, won’t she immediately suspect what I’m up to when she walks up one morning to find she’s wet the bed?” Emma smiled reassuringly, “that’s a concern many parents have. That’s one of the reasons why for so many girls, it’s best to introduce diapers and let the girls come to using them on their own. But as I’ve said, we’ve dealt with girls of varying levels of resistance to therapy; that’s why each plan is individualized for each girl, so that we can figure out ways to keep them from suspecting anything until it’s too late!” Ms. Akiyama shifted in her seat a little, slightly uncomfortable with the ‘until it’s too late’ part, but…who was she kidding? The phrasing might be blunt, but it wasn’t incorrect. “Thankfully,” Emma continued, seemingly unaware of Ms. Akiyama’s temporary discomfort, “with Rei, we have a perfect, shall we say, alibi for you.” “We do?” Emma nodded, “After all, didn’t you say Rei wet the bed until she was fifteen? It’s certainly not inconceivable that she return to that little bad habit, don’t you think?” Emma got a mischievous smile, “It’s especially common in girls who are dealing with all the pressure and demands of college. Of course, you’ll have to do your part to sell her on it, but we can include it as part of her nighttime induction to make it easy for you.” “You mentioned this…nighttime induction earlier. What is it?” “Oh!” Emma reached into another drawer and brought out a small, white plastic appliance, about the size of a digital alarm clock. “The first night you start treatment, you’ll put this in her room, plug it in,” she swivel in her chair a bit to plug it into an outlet behind her desk, “and turn it on,” she pressed a button and a sound like falling rain filled the room, “and it will play this white noise. However, while what you are listening to right now is, I assure you, just harmless static, Rei’s will have subaudible suggestive inductions playing underneath the static to help plant ideas in her head.” “Subaudible suggestive inductions? Like…hypnosis?” “Well,” Emma replied, smiling with a hint of condescension, “it’s not dissimilar from hypnosis, but hypnosis is, well…it can be effective, sure, but its powers are very limited compared to what most people believe. For example, no amount of hypnosis can truly affect a sleeping person; contrary to popular belief, a person must be conscious and capable of hearing hypnosis in order for it to work. Subaudible suggestive induction is a patented technology perfected by Brighter Days scientists that can do everything hypnosis can, but better and without the patient ever knowing. The downside is that, like the name implies, it’s just a suggestion, so we must reinforce it while the patient is awake in order to cement the idea in place. Here,” Emma pulled a brochure out of the top drawer of her desk and handed it to Ms. Akiyama, “you can read all about it in this, but the bottom line is that it’s completely safe and very effective.” Ms. Akiyama took the brochure and glanced over it for a moment before putting it on the desk. “Is all of this…reversible?” “Oh, yes! Behavioral therapy targets cognition, not the physical body, so it is very reversible. However, that is not to say the body isn’t affected; once girls stop using those muscles that keep them from having accidents, those muscles tend to start to weaken, hence why re-potty training is necessary. That said, when a girl only experiences potty-training regression in the form of bedwetting, it typically only takes two or three weeks for the bedwetting to clear up once treatment has stopped. Of course,” Emma added, “as I said, how easy a girl was to potty train the first time remains a good predictor of how quickly they’ll recover, so, for Rei, it might be a couple months, but it will definitely clear up eventually.” “Does anyone ever…not recover?” This was one of Emma’s least favorite questions to answer, but she smiled and did her best, “Well, Ms. Akiyama, the truth is that, yes, some girls never quite recover their potty training. But I assure you, the number of girls who are unable to fully re-potty train is really, truly statistically insignificant, and our behavioral scientists believe these cases to be more related to an emotional or cognitive resistance to re-potty training rather than a physical inability. That is to say, some girls don’t seem to even want to re-potty train!” Emma’s laugh was a little forced. “I don’t know…” Ms. Akiyama sighed. She thought back to when Rei was still wetting the bed. It had been a huge source of embarrassment for the girl, especially in the later years when regressive behavioral therapy started becoming mainstream. She had been so happy and relieved when she finally stopped. Could Ms. Akiyama really do that to her again? But, then again, if it could keep her from filling her head with all sorts of impossible ideas that would prevent her from finding happiness in this new world or, God forbid, falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in serious trouble… And after all, Rei may have been embarrassed by her bedwetting, but she was still able to live a normal life outside of that, just like Emma had said. And that was when most of her peers didn’t wet the bed, technically Rei was in the minority for not wetting the bed now. Ms. Akiyama took a deep breath and nodded, “okay, let’s do this.” Emma grinned, “I think that’s an excellent decision, Ms. Akiyama. Now, let’s talk details and make an action plan. Because each induction machine must be program specifically for each child, you won’t be able to get started until tomorrow, but I’m confident you’ll be changing Rei’s wet sheets before the weekend is over.”

Here we go again. As I had just started writing my first story ever (Whispers in the Dark), I already learned a ton. While I still uses crutches (AI), I thought I could already use what I've learned with Whispers in the Dark and apply it to a new, more thought out story. This one is already mostly outlined, has longer chapters and a completely different theme to it. I will still continue Whispers in the Dark of course, but while that one is only roughly planned in my head, this new one is fully planned out on paper. Except for one wetting scene, the build up is rather slow, but it will be worth it. I have a lot planned for this story. You can view the first 3 chapters as some kind of very long prologue. Let me know what you think! Under Pressure Innocence in the Shadow of Power Chapter 1 - Birthday Under the soothing rush of the shower, I felt the weight of today pressing down on me. It was a pivotal moment, the divide between the life I'd grown accustomed to and the uncertain horizon ahead. Each droplet mingling with my tears seemed to underscore the harsh reality: I was saying goodbye to the comfort of my tiny apartment, facing the daunting prospect of nowhere to belong. "Happy birthday, Feli," I murmured to my reflection as I emerged from the steam. Felicity von Sterntal—that's my full name. The "von" part adds a touch of German flair, a nod to nobility, though our family's far from royal. My grandparents, German immigrants who made their way to the USA in the 60s, christened me with the nickname "Feli," though it's pronounced more like "Fehly." I never really knew them, as they passed when I was just a baby. Still, I've grown fond of my name. It's distinct, and it ties me to something, even if it's just the echoes of the past. Drawing upon every bit of strength I could muster, I willed a smile onto my lips, hoping to cloak the uncertainty gnawing at my core. The girl in the mirror, barely reaching five feet tall, her deep blue eyes framed by unruly black hair cascading down to her mid-back, reflected my forced composure. Despite my 18 years, she seemed more like a lost teenager navigating the tumult of adolescence rather than on the brink of adulthood. As I locked eyes with her, the facade faltered, exposing the raw loneliness lurking beneath the surface. She lacked the confidence she sought to project. Stepping into my living room—well, my only room—a wave of sadness engulfed me. Today marked the end of calling this place home. Glancing around, memories flooded back, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. In one corner stood my tiny kitchen, equipped with just the basics: stove, sink, fridge, and microwave. It had witnessed its fair share of culinary experiments and mishaps. Opposite the kitchen, my bed nestled into another corner, its modest size a testament to the limited space. Despite its smallness, it had cradled me through countless nights of rest and contemplation. Across from the bed, my desk stood, once housing my PC which I'd already packed away. It had been my sanctuary for studying and coding, a space of productivity and focus. And lots and lots of gaming. Now, everything else was neatly packed in boxes, except for my trusty backpack holding the essentials: phone, laptop, and a few changes of clothes. As I surveyed the remnants of my life here, a shroud of uncertainty settled over my thoughts. I scooped up the final crumbs of cereal from the box, a stark reminder of dwindling supplies in my modest kitchen. With a sigh, I sank into the worn chair at my desk, spoon in hand, and retrieved the letter once more. Its contents had been etched into my memory since its arrival on the day of my high school graduation, just weeks ago. As I savored the last bites of cereal, I read over the letter one last time. Dear Felicity, We hope this letter finds you well. It is with careful consideration that your mother and I have reached a decision regarding your financial support. As you have successfully completed your high school education and are soon to reach the age of majority, we believe it is appropriate to adjust our financial arrangements accordingly. Regrettably, we must inform you that, effective immediately, we will no longer be providing you with financial assistance, including your allowance. Furthermore, in light of your impending 18th birthday, arrangements have been made for movers to assist you in vacating the apartment that we have provided for you. We view this transition as a gesture of our support and encouragement as you embark on the next chapter of your life. Please be prepared to surrender your keys to the designated representative upon their arrival. With warm regards, Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal It was a cruel slap in the face, a harsh reminder of my parents' indifference, their decision to cut off the last lifeline of financial support right on the brink of my adulthood. As I absorbed the cold, impersonal words of the letter, a surge of anger and resentment boiled within me. This wasn't just about money; it was a final abandonment, a deliberate shove into the abyss of independence. The memory of how I came to live in this apartment at such a young age flooded back, stirring up a blend of bitterness and resignation. My parents, consumed by their careers and absent from my life, had effectively abandoned their parental duties when I was just fifteen. Their presence had never been significant anyway; nannies had filled the void left by their absence, their faces blending into a blur of caretakers who had come and gone over the years. Despite their neglect, the apartment had provided a semblance of stability in a chaotic world. It was my sanctuary, my own space amidst the turmoil. And now, as they callously stripped away even that small comfort, I couldn't help but feel bitterness at the injustice of it all. With a heavy heart, I folded the letter and set it aside, its implications casting a palpable weight in the air. The cereal in my bowl had lost its appeal, each spoonful a bitter reminder of the uncertainty looming ahead. As the minutes stretched on, I pondered the cruel irony of their supposed "birthday gift," a gesture tinged with spite rather than kindness. And as the harsh reality of my situation settled in, I steeled myself for the turbulent road ahead, resolved to carve out my own path despite the hurdles in my way. As the doorbell shattered the quiet of my apartment, I braced myself for the inevitable. With a steadying breath, I crossed the room and swung open the door, greeted by the stern gaze of a man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a somber suit. His presence filled the doorway, a forewarning of the chaos awaiting me. Introducing himself as a representative of the von Sterntal family, a bitter irony settled over me at the shared surname, a reminder of the tangled connections binding me to this tumultuous moment. Behind him, a group of movers stood with downcast expressions, their sympathetic glances betraying their discomfort at being complicit in my forced eviction. It seemed they had been briefed on the situation, their professional demeanor tinged with a touch of empathy. "Miss von Sterntal," the representative began, his voice laced with formality. "I assume you're aware of the purpose of our visit," he continued, his gaze drifting to the neatly packed boxes scattered throughout the apartment, silent witnesses to the impending upheaval. I simply nodded, the lump in my throat stifling any words that threatened to escape. "Very well," he said briskly, his tone businesslike. "If you could just sign here and hand over the keys, we'll take care of the rest." His smile carried a hint of reassurance, emphasizing that the movers' services came without cost to me. With a resigned acceptance, I took the document and signed it, my signature a stark acknowledgment of my departure from the property. Handing over the keys, I watched as the movers sprang into action, loading my belongings into the waiting truck. It was a transaction devoid of choice, a forced relinquishment of my home, as I stood by, a silent witness to the unraveling of my life. As the movers finished loading my belongings, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, the only link to the life I was leaving behind. With a final click, the representative locked the door, marking the end of an era. As we headed towards the waiting truck, he spoke up once more, offering me a semblance of choice amidst the chaos. "The movers will take you wherever you want," he said, his words a small act of kindness in the midst of turmoil. And just before we parted ways, he added, "Oh, and Miss von Sterntal, happy birthday by the way." His well-wishes hung in the air, a bitter reminder of the cruel twist of fate that marked the day. With a handshake and a farewell, he left me standing there, the taste of bitterness lingering. As the truck pulled away, carrying me towards an uncertain future, I couldn't help but resent the hollow birthday wishes, a stark reminder of the emptiness awaiting me. I directed the movers towards a storage unit I had booked online for a week, a temporary sanctuary for the fragments of my past life. It was a pragmatic solution, born from necessity with the scant funds left to me by my parents. As we navigated the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't shake off the irony of my circumstances. Despite being the offspring of the private owners and executives of a multi-billion-dollar tech empire nestled in the heart of NYC, their generosity towards me had always been in short supply. Their reminders of my status as their "accident" reverberated in my thoughts, a persistent reminder of my position on the fringes of their world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that despite their wealth and influence, I was little more than an inconvenience to them. And as we unloaded the remnants of my former life into the storage unit, I felt the weight of their neglect bearing down on me, a burden I carried with me into an uncertain future. As the movers drove off, leaving me to face the stark reality of my situation, I gazed at the orderly array of boxes in the storage unit. Each one contained memories and possessions, now symbolizing the entirety of my existence. This was it – my entire life condensed into a confined space, a tangible manifestation of the upheaval that had swept through my world in a single day. Overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, I sank to the ground, tears streaming down my cheeks as emotions flooded over me. Time seemed to blur as I sat amidst my belongings, the weight of my newfound homelessness crashing down on me in relentless waves. In that moment of vulnerability, every suppressed feeling from the day – the abandonment, the betrayal, the uncertainty – converged, drowning me in a torrent of despair. I couldn't tell how long I stayed there, lost in the abyss of my anguish. All I knew was that this was my reality now – adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with nowhere to call home. As I closed the storage unit, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, mingling with the chill of the morning air. My backpack felt like a lifeline, its weight a reminder of the few possessions I still possessed. While my plans for the days ahead seemed meager, tinged with a sense of futility, I trudged along the bustling streets of New York City. Each step carried the weight of uncertainty, a burden I had grown accustomed to bearing alone. As I rounded a corner, my gaze inevitably fell upon the towering silhouette of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper, its imposing presence etched into the city skyline. I knew every facet of that building all too well, a monument to the wealth and success my parents had achieved. Yet, it also symbolized the stark divide between their world of privilege and my own neglected existence. High above, on the top floor, lay the domain of Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal, my parents, seemingly peering down on me from their ivory tower. The shadow cast by their empire seemed to mirror the shadow they had cast over my life, leaving me in the darkness of their neglect. Shaking my head to dispel the troubling thoughts, I stepped into the warmth of a nearby cafe, seeking refuge from the chill of the city streets. Dwelling on the weight of my circumstances was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment; practical matters demanded my attention. With each passing moment, the reality of my situation loomed larger—I didn't even have a place to rest my head for the night. The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling a sense of urgency as I scanned the bustling cafe for a temporary respite from my troubles. Choosing a solitary spot by the expansive window, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the lone chair stationed beside the table. It seemed to mirror my own isolation, a silent companion in the midst of a crowded cafe. As I settled into the seat, I signaled the server and placed an order for a simple tea, mindful of my dwindling funds. The price felt steep for such a basic beverage, but I knew the cost was necessary to gain access to the cafe's WiFi—a lifeline in my current predicament. With a sense of resolve, I awaited my order, hoping that the warmth of the tea would offer some solace amidst the uncertainty of my circumstances. Taking a cautious sip of the steaming tea, I set my laptop upon the table and powered it up, the soft glow of the screen casting a comforting light in the dimly lit cafe. With a sense of determination, I delved into the task at hand, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I navigated through job listings and online applications. The simplicity of my plan belied the daunting reality of my situation—I was an 18-year-old with only a high school diploma, adrift in the competitive landscape of New York City's job market. Yet, despite the odds stacked against me, I poured all my energy into the search, knowing that every opportunity seized could mean the difference between survival and succumbing to the shadows of my circumstances. As I sifted through yet another round of discouraging rejection emails flooding my inbox, my focus was abruptly shattered by the boisterous entrance of a man engaged in a heated phone conversation. His voice carried above the ambient chatter of the cafe, drawing the attention of patrons with its intensity. Despite my initial reluctance to eavesdrop, I found myself inadvertently tuning in to his conversation, snippets of disdain toward a VIP client punctuating the air. Intrigued, I observed him as he made his way to the counter, his animated gestures betraying the gravity of his conversation. With a sense of curiosity, I couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of his world, momentarily distracted from the weight of my own struggles by the drama unfolding before me. Feigning engrossment in my laptop screen, I diverted my gaze as the man collected his coffee and turned in my direction. Discomfort prickled at the edges of my consciousness; I loathed the idea of being caught staring, a violation of the unspoken etiquette of public spaces. With practiced nonchalance, I buried myself in the facade of productivity, my fingers tracing absent patterns on the keyboard as I scrolled through meaningless content. As the man fell silent, a fleeting sense of dread coiled within me, only to be shattered by the resumption of his conversation moments later. Relief washed over me as he departed the cafe without so much as a second glance in my direction, leaving me to exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The brief encounter served as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between privacy and observation in the bustling landscape of city life. As the hours slipped away, so too did the fragile tendrils of hope that had buoyed my spirits earlier in the day. Despite my best efforts, the job search yielded little more than a string of rejections, each one serving as a stark reminder of the uphill battle I faced in securing employment. With a heavy heart, I conceded to the reality of the situation—I had made little progress, and time was slipping away. Gathering my belongings and tucking my laptop securely into my backpack, I steeled myself for the next hurdle: finding shelter for the night. The uncertainty loomed large, casting a shadow over my already precarious existence, but I refused to succumb to despair. With determination fueling my steps, I pushed open the door of the cafe and stepped back out into the bustling streets of New York City. With a bag of chips clasped tightly in my hand, I embarked on a solitary journey through the labyrinth of city streets, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I wandered aimlessly. The neon glow of storefronts illuminated the impending darkness, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the concrete. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of the meager sustenance I had managed to scrounge up for dinner. Yet, as I roamed the unfamiliar terrain, a sense of helplessness washed over me, amplifying the weight of my circumstances. The prospect of renting a room or even a bed felt like an impossible luxury, far beyond the reach of my limited means. Lost in the sea of uncertainty, I struggled to discern a path forward, the cityscape looming around me like an insurmountable obstacle. Sitting down heavily on a bench, I sought solace in the simple act of munching on the salt-flavored chips, their flavor resembling the silent tears tracing paths down my cheeks. As I gazed into the distance, my eyes inevitably landed on the looming presence of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper once again, its towering silhouette a constant reminder of my own inadequacy in the shadow of my parents' success. A surge of defiance rose within me, driving me to shake off the suffocating weight of helplessness that threatened to engulf me. With a resolute shake of my head, I refused to surrender to despair. Pushing myself upright, I continued to scour the streets for any glimmer of hope, a beacon amidst the darkness that threatened to consume me whole. Rounding a corner, my weary eyes alighted upon a surprisingly pristine alleyway nestled beside the imposing facade of a law firm. Shielded from the harsh gaze of the bustling street and buffered from the relentless gusts of wind that swept through the city, the alley offered a semblance of respite amidst the chaos of urban life. With darkness descending upon the cityscape and exhaustion weighing heavy upon my shoulders, I knew that this secluded alcove would have to suffice for the night. Despite the pang of discomfort that gnawed at my conscience, I resolved to make the best of the situation, clinging to the fleeting sense of security offered by the sheltered confines of the alleyway. With a weary sigh, I nestled against the unyielding coolness of the concrete wall, my jacket wrapped tightly around me in a feeble attempt to stave off the chill of the night air. Clutching my backpack to my chest like a lifeline, I sought solace in the familiar weight of my belongings, their presence a source of comfort amidst the uncertainty that loomed around me. As exhaustion weighed heavy upon my eyelids, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the cacophony of the city fading into the background as I surrendered to the oblivion of slumber. In the solitude of the alleyway, I found a fleeting sense of peace, a respite from the trials and tribulations that had plagued me throughout the day. And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moonlight, I surrendered myself to the darkness, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of dreams. Chapter 2 - John I woke up to the raucous symphony of the waking city, my body stiff and sore from the uncomfortable concrete floor of the alley. The cold seeped into my bones, a reminder of the unforgiving night that had passed. Determination surged within me as I made a mental note to invest in a sleeping bag, albeit a budget-friendly one. Luxury was a distant concept now. Every expense had to be carefully weighed against necessity, but not freezing to death seemed necessary enough. The distant rumble of a garbage truck echoed down the street, prompting me to glance towards the nearby dumpster that had offered me some semblance of privacy throughout the night. Taking it as my cue to depart, I pushed myself up from the cold concrete, aching muscles protesting the movement. With a determined resolve, I reaffirmed my plan for the day, the same as yesterday, unaltered despite the discomforts of the night. With my trusty backpack snug against my back, I traversed the bustling streets, a lone figure amidst the throngs of morning commuters. The aroma of freshly baked goods wafted from a nearby bakery, tempting me with its promise of sustenance. Yielding to the growling protest of my stomach, I indulged in a modest yet satisfying sandwich, procured with the meager funds at my disposal. Satiated, albeit temporarily, I continued on my journey, guided by a sense of familiarity towards the same cafe that had become my refuge the day before. Entering the cafe, I was greeted by a comforting wave of warmth and the familiar aroma of brewing coffee. It felt like a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my current circumstances. Glancing over to the corner where I had sat the day before, I breathed a sigh of relief to find it still vacant, my spot waiting for me like an old friend. With a sense of quiet determination, I settled into the familiar surroundings, ordering another one of the overpriced teas that had become a guilty pleasure amidst my frugality. Opening my laptop, I delved once more into the relentless task of scouring job listings, navigating the virtual labyrinth in search of a beacon of hope amidst the sea of rejections. It was a bitter irony that plagued my thoughts as I sifted through the digital landscape of job postings. The online forums, where praise flowed freely for my coding prowess, seemed worlds apart from the harsh reality of my current situation. Despite being self-taught and garnering accolades from virtual strangers, I had faltered in monetizing my skills, relegating them to the realm of mere hobbyism. Coding and gaming had long served as my refuge, a sanctuary from the tumultuous years of high school and the suffocating grip of loneliness. Yet, as I now grappled with the daunting task of securing employment to sustain myself, the weight of my perceived failure pressed down upon me like a suffocating blanket. If only my parents had told me sooner, I would’ve probably had something figured out by now. Lost in the labyrinth of my own thoughts, I found myself gazing absently out the window, the passing scenery a blur against the canvas of my mind. It was then that I noticed the familiar figure of the man from the day before, striding purposefully towards the entrance of the cafe. A pang of apprehension gripped me, prompting a swift diversion of my attention back to the glowing screen of my laptop. Tuning in to the ambient sounds of the cafe, I couldn't help but overhear his order, a simple request for a coffee to go, mirroring his routine from the previous day. A subtle sense of curiosity stirred within me, mingling with a tinge of unease as I pondered the significance of his presence once more. As I remained engrossed in my task of scouring job listings and dispatching applications into the digital void, the absence of the man's departure did not escape my notice. Despite his initial intention of ordering a coffee to go, the distinct lack of movement behind me hinted at his lingering presence within the confines of the cafe. Resolutely keeping my focus trained on the flickering glow of my laptop screen, I resisted the temptation to steal a glance over my shoulder, preferring to remain ensconced in my own world. Time drifted by in the steady rhythm of keystrokes and mouse clicks, punctuated only by the murmurs of other patrons and the occasional clink of ceramic against tabletops. It wasn't until a considerable while later that I observed his departure from the corner of my eye, his enigmatic presence departing as quietly as it had arrived. A fleeting curiosity stirred within me, fleeting thoughts of his peculiar aura and expensive attire crossing my mind before swiftly dissipating amidst the urgency of my own endeavors. As the day wore on and my focus waned, I made the decision to call it quits, at least for the time being. With a newfound determination fueled by a semblance of planning, I bid farewell to the comforting confines of the cafe and ventured back out into the bustling streets. Remembering the necessity of securing a sleeping bag for the impending night, I retraced my steps to the store I had spotted that morning. Scanning the shelves for the most budget-friendly option, I finally settled on the cheapest offering. Though it offered no protection against dampness, it was a small comfort knowing that it would stave off the biting cold, leaving me with enough funds to sustain myself with nourishment for a few more days to come. With a sense of resignation gnawing at my insides, I purchased another bag of chips, though acutely aware of their meager nutritional value. As I trudged back towards the alley that had become my makeshift refuge, I couldn't help but cast a glance towards the towering spire that housed my parents' corporate empire. Biting down on a chip, the taste a bitter reminder of my circumstances, I felt a surge of despair welling within me. The sight of their skyscraper loomed over me like a mocking specter, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated us, both physically and emotionally. With clenched teeth and a fervent hope burning within my chest, I prayed that this dismal routine would soon become nothing more than a painful memory of a bygone era. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the biting chill of the night descended upon the city, I nestled into the familiarity of my chosen spot within the alley. With the thin barrier of the sleeping bag offering a modicum of warmth, I settled down, leaning against my backpack for a semblance of comfort. Tears welled in my eyes, tracing silent pathways down my cheeks, as the crushing weight of my predicament enveloped me once more. In the darkness, surrounded by the echoes of solitude, I felt the suffocating embrace of hopelessness tighten its grip around my heart. Yet, amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the engulfing darkness. Clinging to that glimmer of resilience like a lifeline, I vowed silently to myself that I would not succumb, that I would persevere against the odds, no matter how insurmountable they seemed. For in the depths of my despair, I found a resolve that whispered fiercely in the silence: I could not give up. I would not give up. As I stirred from my fitful slumber, the city had already sprung to life around me, its bustling energy a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the alley. Despite the persistent ache that clung to my body like a lingering shadow, I couldn't help but acknowledge the small comfort afforded by the sleeping bag wrapped around me. Unlike the previous night, the shivers that had plagued me were noticeably absent. The sleeping bag had proven to be a worthwhile investment. With a weary yet grateful sigh, I rose to my feet and carefully packed up my sleeping bag, folding it neatly as I prepared to face another day. Embracing the familiarity of my newfound routine, I steeled myself for the challenges that lay ahead. As I retraced the familiar steps of my routine, grabbing the same sandwich from the same bakery and making my way to the same cafe, I couldn't help but marvel at the swiftness with which humans could fall into patterns. Yet, upon entering the cafe, the comfort of routine shattered in an instant. Seated at my usual spot in front of the window, in the corner, was the enigmatic man who had piqued my curiosity the days before. His gaze was fixed out the window, lost in thought as he sipped on his coffee. A sense of intrigue tinged with apprehension washed over me as I hesitated in the doorway, uncertain of how to proceed in the wake of this unexpected disruption to my routine. With a resentful glance at the man's back, I took a seat behind him, my frustration simmering beneath the surface as I ordered my tea and opened my laptop to resume my job hunt. Sighing heavily, I couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment as I sifted through the slew of new rejections that had flooded my inbox. Another day stretching out before me, seemingly destined to end in the same vein of fruitless endeavors and dashed hopes. Lost in the rhythm of typing out applications, I was jolted from my focus by the subtle stirrings of the man in front of me. Ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the screen, hoping to avoid any unwanted interactions. Yet, despite my efforts to feign indifference, I could sense his probing gaze boring into me, a silent weight that I could no longer ignore. After what felt like an eternity of silent scrutiny, I relented, lifting my eyes from the screen to meet his gaze. To my surprise, he had moved closer, now sitting directly in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Hi, I'm John," he said, extending a hand in greeting, but I remained rigid, my gaze locked in a glare, still nursing my resentment for his disruption of my routine. His attempt at cordiality was met with my silent rebuke. "All right, all right," he continued, his tone laced with a hint of apology, "I apologize for taking your spot, but I needed an excuse to talk to you." His words hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of his admission. Despite my lingering irritation, a flicker of curiosity sparked within me, compelling me to lower my guard ever so slightly. "That's a pretty bad excuse," I retorted sharply, my glare unwavering as I remained guarded. "Yeah, probably," he chuckled in response, his admission punctuated by a hint of self-awareness. Yet, before I could respond further, he continued, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Anyway, I wanted to make you an offer," he stated, his eyes appraising me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "And I think you'd be perfect for this." Despite my lingering apprehension, the mention of an offer piqued my curiosity, stirring a mixture of intrigue and caution within me. His lingering gaze, however, remained a discomforting reminder of the unease that still lingered between us. "What kind of offer?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he smirked in response, a gesture that already grated on my nerves. "It's something I can't talk about in detail here, but it will be very profitable for you and you seem perfect for this," he replied, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made me uneasy. He jotted down his phone number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table before standing up. "I bet you could really use some money right now," he remarked, his eyes trailing over to my backpack and sleeping bag beside me, sending a chill down my spine. As he made his exit from the cafe, he spoke once more, his parting words hanging in the air like a weight upon my shoulders. "Give me a ring, Miss von Sterntal," he said, the mention of my name sending a jolt of mortification through me. I watched in silence as he left the cafe, his words echoing in my mind, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in their wake. As I sat there, grappling with the unsettling revelation that dawned upon me, I pieced together the puzzle in my mind. He had been watching me, studying my every move. Perhaps he had glanced over my shoulder yesterday, observing the desperation with which I scoured job listings and sifted through rejection letters. My name, Felicity von Sterntal, had undoubtedly been revealed through the numerous applications I had submitted, a detail he could have easily gleaned. And the presence of the sleeping bag, a symbol of my desperation and downtrodden circumstances, likely provided him with the final confirmation he needed. It became painfully clear that I must have appeared to him as the perfect victim for whatever scheme he was plotting. The realization sent a chill down my spine, a wave of vulnerability washing over me as I grappled with the unsettling implications of his calculated observation. With a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach, I resolved to proceed with caution, wary of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of his enticing offer. As I continued to sift through job offers, the memory of John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the reservations gnawing at my conscience, I couldn't shake the allure of his seemingly affluent demeanor and the enigmatic promise he had made. His professional attire and confident demeanor bespoke a level of wealth and influence that was undeniably intriguing, especially for someone who appeared to be in his late twenties. Yet, as I found myself briefly succumbing to the fleeting temptation, a resolute determination surged within me. I shook my head. I refused to entertain the notion of compromising my principles, even in the face of such uncertainty and desperation. The thought of possibly engaging in anything of a sexual nature for monetary gain was quickly dismissed, my self-worth and dignity too precious to be bartered away. Also it’s not like I have any sexual experience anyway. However, despite my resolve, a speck of curiosity about John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind. As I continued to sift through job offers, his presence remained a lingering question mark, tugging at the edges of my consciousness with a persistent allure that I couldn't quite shake. The day dragged on, each passing moment marked by the familiar sting of disappointment as my efforts yielded no success. Despite the mysterious interruption earlier, I quickly regained my focus, returning to the monotonous routine of job hunting. A while later, seated in the same spot, beneath the looming shadow of the skyscraper that towered above me and reminded me of my past, I found myself lost in thought, munching on the same kind of chips that had become a staple of my meager diet. As I chewed on the familiar salty snack, the memories of the past days flooded through me, a relentless tide of reminders of my struggles and setbacks. The relentless cycle of uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the uphill battle I faced in clawing my way out of the depths of despair. Amidst the turmoil of my thoughts, a simple realization emerged: I needed to break free from the confines of this repetitive existence, starting with something as simple as changing my dinner menu for tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and began the familiar trek towards my secluded alley. As I passed by the office of the law firm, now a fixture in my daily surroundings, I couldn't help but steal a longing glance through the windows, pondering the lives of those within. Lost in idle daydreams, my attention was abruptly shattered when I found myself locking eyes with a man about to step into an elevator at the back of the lobby. It was John, and to my horror, he had noticed me too. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, flushing my cheeks with embarrassment as I hastily averted my gaze and bolted around the corner, seeking refuge in the safety of my alley sanctuary. The encounter left me rattled, a knot of apprehension coiling in the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the unsettling implications of our unexpected meeting. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me as I settled into my makeshift resting place behind the dumpster, seeking solace in the refuge of sleep. Yet, despite my weariness, rest proved elusive as I found myself caught in a hazy limbo between wakefulness and slumber. Memories of the day swirled around in my mind like a tumultuous whirlwind, refusing to grant me the respite I so desperately sought, leaving me in a disorienting haze where they swirled like fragments of a fractured reality. Amidst the fog of my memories, John's face emerged intermittently, a haunting presence that lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. Despite my best efforts to find respite in sleep, his haunting gaze seemed to follow me into the realm of dreams, casting a shadow of unease over the fragile sanctuary of my thoughts. And so, I remained suspended in a daze, trapped in the liminal space between consciousness and oblivion, grappling with the unsettling echoes of the day's events that refused to be silenced. As I drifted on the precipice of sleep, I was violently yanked back into consciousness by the sensation of someone shaking me with rough urgency. With a gasp, my eyes flew open to behold two looming figures, their silhouettes cast in stark relief against the feeble glow of the street lantern that pierced the darkness of the alley. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, as fear surged through every fiber of my being, rendering me paralyzed in shock. Tears streamed down my face in torrents, blurring my vision as I trembled uncontrollably, a helpless captive to the terror that gripped me in its merciless embrace. Frozen in place, I could do naught but gaze up at the looming shadows, consumed by a suffocating sense of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. "Hey girl, give us all of your money!" one of the figures demanded, their voice dripping with menace as a sinister smirk danced upon their lips, barely visible in the dim illumination of the street lantern. "I-I-I don't have a-any," I managed to stammer out through trembling lips, my voice barely above a whisper as tears continued to stream down my face, betraying my overwhelming fear. Before I could even comprehend their next move, they lunged forward, seizing my backpack from my grasp with ruthless efficiency. Despite my feeble attempts to resist, I found myself held down by unseen hands, rendered powerless by the shock that still held me captive in its grip. Helplessly, I watched as they emptied the contents of my backpack onto the cold pavement, their greedy hands sifting through my meager belongings with callous disregard. Each item strewn haphazardly before me served as a stark reminder of the fragility of my existence, a harsh testament to the cruelty of fate in a world that showed no mercy to the downtrodden. "HEY!" a voice suddenly pierced the tense air, echoing through the alleyway as the sound of running footsteps grew louder. "What's going on here? Leave her alone!" the voice thundered with authority, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh shit, let's go," one of the figures muttered to the other, their panicked voices barely audible over the pounding of my heart. With swift movements, they fled towards the other end of the alley, their forms disappearing into the darkness as they vanished from sight. The mysterious man, who had come to my rescue, pursued them briefly before coming to a halt, realizing they were already out of reach. With a heavy exhale, he turned his attention back to me, his gaze softening as he took in the sight before him. I remained huddled atop my sleeping bag, my face buried in my knees which I clutched tightly to my chest. Shivers wracked my body as tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of fear that still lingered in the air. My meager belongings lay strewn around me, a pitiful testament to the vulnerability that had been laid bare in the face of danger. "Miss von Sterntal?" The words escaped the mysterious man's lips in a gasp of recognition, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he took in the sight before him. My eyes lifted for the first time, meeting his gaze, and the realization washed over me like a tidal wave. "John?" I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Too many thoughts and feelings raced through my mind at once, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of the harrowing ordeal. In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, the boundaries between us blurred, and I found myself clinging to the unexpected connection that had emerged between us in the midst of chaos. Chapter 3 - Luxury John crouched in front of me, his concern etched on his face. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. I shook my head weakly, huddling closer to my knees on the sleeping bag. His eyes scanned the alleyway, taking in the scattered contents of my backpack. "Is this where you've been staying?" he inquired, his tone filled with both curiosity and concern. I nodded silently, feeling a rush of shame at the admission. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "I'll just gather my things and leave." As I started to clumsily gather my belongings and was about to stand up from my spot, I noticed the puddle underneath me and the wet clammy feeling of my pants. I must've wet myself out of fear. My face blushed crimson as another pang of shame overcame me. My pace quickened in an effort to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "Felicity, wait," John said as he gently grabbed my arm, preventing me from packing any further. "Feli," I corrected softly, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I avoided his gaze. "I like Feli more," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his, noticing the genuine concern etched into his expression. He released my arm, realizing he had my attention. "Listen, Feli," John began, his eyes holding mine with a mix of gentleness and authority. "I don't know exactly what your deal is, but I can see you're down on your luck. And I'm sure you have nowhere else to go, right?" he continued, his tone soft yet probing. I nodded meekly, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he scratched the stubble on his chin, his gaze sweeping over the scene before us. "I don't like intruding," he admitted, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, recalling our awkward encounter in the café. "But I can't leave a young girl like you out on the streets like this." I looked down, feeling a fresh wave of shame wash over me, making me feel even more vulnerable. "How about you come to my place for tonight? I've got a guest room where you can clean up and get some rest." His gaze fell on the puddle underneath me, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Does that sound good?" John asked, his voice tinged with concern. I hesitated for a moment, weighing my options. Despite my apprehension, the thought of a shower and a bed was too tempting to resist. I nodded meekly, realizing I had little choice but to trust him for now. With a sense of gratitude mingled with uncertainty, I allowed John to help me pack up my few belongings. Together, we made our way down the alley towards the street where a car was waiting for him, ready to take me to a place that was entirely unfamiliar yet offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the night. As we settled into the backseat of the car, the driver spoke up from the front. "Good evening, Mr. Harrington. Am I still bringing you back to your place?" he inquired, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "Yes, please bring us home, Chuck," John confirmed, his voice carrying a note of weariness. The level of wealth where you could afford your own personal driver wasn't foreign to me, but it had been quite a few years since I'd experienced it firsthand. I sighed softly as I slumped back into my seat, feeling the uncomfortable wetness of my pants clinging to me, the exhaustion of the encounter finally catching up with me. As we passed through the bustling streets of NYC, my head rested against the cool window, my gaze fixed on the vibrant lights of the nightlife swirling by in a blur of colors and motion. A mix of uncertainty and hope tugged at my mind, a feeling that had become all too familiar to me lately. Amidst the chaos of the city, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for me in this unexpected turn of events. We entered the underground garage, bidding farewell to Chuck as he drove off. The dimly lit space felt strangely quiet after the chaos of the city streets. Following John, we made our way to an elevator, and he pressed the topmost button. The realization dawned on me that John's wealth surpassed what I had initially assumed, a notion that left me both impressed and apprehensive. As we ascended in the elevator, a sense of awkwardness settled between us, the silence punctuated only by the soft hum of the machinery. Finally, the doors opened, revealing a narrow hallway with just one door at the end. A penthouse, I surmised, my heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. John opened the door, inviting me into a world I had thought I would never see again. "Make yourself at home," John said, leading us through a small entryway into a sprawling living space. My eyes widened in awe as I took in the grandeur of the room. A luxurious couch sat in front of a massive TV atop a faux fireplace, exuding an air of opulence. One wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. I couldn't help but grimace as I spotted my parents' skyscraper in the distance, a stark reminder of the world I had left behind. An archway led to a spacious kitchen and dining area on one side of the room, while a few steps ascended to a corridor on the other. John guided me down the corridor and opened the first door on his right, revealing the large guest room. A queen-size bed occupied one wall, with a TV mounted opposite and a dresser beneath. In one corner, an en-suite awaited, offering a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. "There's shower gel, towels, and spare toothbrushes. Do you need anything else?" John asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I shook my head, still stunned by the luxury and overwhelmed with gratitude. "Alright, I'll let you get cleaned up then," he said, turning to leave before pausing. "Oh, and are you hungry?" My stomach growled involuntarily, betraying my hunger. I was about to decline, not wanting to impose, but John's grin softened my resolve. "I'll make some sandwiches. Just join me in the kitchen when you're done," he said, offering a glimmer of warmth in the midst of uncertainty. With that, he left the en-suite, closing the door behind him, leaving me to soak in the surreal reality of my surroundings. As the warm water cascaded over me in the shower, washing away the grime and weariness of the night, a sense of clarity began to seep back into my mind. "I guess now I have to at least hear him out on his offer," I mumbled to myself, the words echoing in the solitude of the bathroom. Stepping out of the shower, I dried myself off and donned a shirt and sweatpants from my backpack, feeling a semblance of comfort return with each familiar garment. With hesitant steps, I made my way towards the kitchen, where John sat at the dining table, enjoying a sandwich. An identical one sat on a plate opposite him, awaiting my arrival. I sat down, muttering a quiet "Thank you," before taking a bite of the sandwich, savoring the simple pleasure of a warm meal. As I ate, John began to speak, his voice calm yet determined. "Alright, here's the deal," he started, pausing between bites. "I'll let you stay the night and get some rest, and I'll be gone already when you wake up tomorrow." He continued, outlining my options for the following day. "Either you leave before I'm back from work, and I'll leave you alone from now on," he explained, his gaze searching mine for any hint of reaction. "Or you decide to stay and hear out my offer when I come home from work." I swallowed my bite of sandwich, considering his words carefully. "Why don't you just tell me about the offer right now?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. But John shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I can't," he replied firmly. "Not yet, at least. But I can tell you tomorrow evening. You're still free to decline once you've heard it, however." I nodded in understanding, realizing that there was more to this offer than met the eye. With a sense of anticipation tinged with apprehension, I finished my sandwich, knowing that the following day would bring with it a decision that could change the course of my life. "Go and get some rest," John commanded, his tone firm yet not unkind, as he cleared away our plates and brought them to the kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at his authoritative demeanor, but in the face of his generosity, I complied with his request nonetheless. As I settled into the plush comfort of the bed, the warmth enveloping me like a gentle embrace, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn't let fear or uncertainty hold me back any longer. I would hear him out the next day, whatever his offer may be. "I just really, really hope it's nothing sexual," I whispered to myself, the words lingering in the quiet of the room as I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with thoughts of the unknown future that awaited me. I woke up the next day, feeling surprisingly refreshed after a restful night's sleep. As I stretched and shook off the remnants of sleep, a sense of vitality surged through me. It had been a while since I had slept so well. Venturing out of the guest room, I found myself alone in the spacious apartment. John had already left, as he had promised. I made my way to the living room, drawn by the allure of the sprawling cityscape visible through the window. The sight of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper in the distance stirred a mix of emotions within me, a constant reminder of my past. "Make yourself at home," John's words echoed in my mind, and I resolved to do just that. Pushing aside the thoughts of my parents, I strode into the kitchen, where a delicious breakfast awaited me. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. To my surprise, there was a small note waiting for me on the table. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back at 6. See you then! -J," it read, a simple yet thoughtful gesture. I couldn't help but wonder if John already knew that I would stay to hear him out. With gratitude in my heart, I sat down and began to savor the hearty breakfast, allowing myself to indulge in the simple pleasures of the moment, grateful for the warmth and hospitality that John had extended to me. As the hours passed by, I found myself unable to shake off the nervous anticipation that gripped me like a vice. Despite my initial intention to relax and enjoy the comforts of John's penthouse, the looming uncertainty of the evening weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to distract myself by flipping through channels on the TV, but my attention kept drifting back to the impending conversation with John. What could his offer possibly be? And more importantly, what would it mean for my future? With each passing minute, my nerves seemed to intensify, the unknown stretching out before me like an endless abyss. Despite my best efforts to quell my anxieties, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of the high stakes of the decision that awaited me. I was sprawled out on the couch, a large glass of juice sitting on the table in front of me when I heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was only 5 pm. Curious, I craned my neck to peer over the back of the couch toward the entryway, where a woman emerged carrying two bags of groceries. Our gazes met, and a moment of surprise passed between us. "Oh, hello, miss..." she began, expecting me to fill in the pause with my name. "Feli," I replied, offering a small smile. "Okay, Miss Feli, my apologies. I didn't know Mr. Harrington had a guest over," she continued, her tone polite yet curious. I chuckled softly at that. "It's just Feli," I clarified, feeling a pang of discomfort at the formalities. "That's short for Felicity." She nodded in understanding, her warm smile never faltering. "Who are you?" I questioned, returning the inquiry. "Call me Marge," she replied with a friendly smile, radiating a sense of maternal warmth. "I'm here to cook dinner for Mr. Harrington... and you, I guess?" she explained, her tone tinged with uncertainty. "I guess so," I replied with a shrug, watching as she excused herself to the kitchen to begin her work. As the minutes ticked by, I found it increasingly difficult to focus on the TV, my nerves getting the better of me. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen only served to heighten my anticipation, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. Then, at precisely 6:05 pm, the front door swung open once again. "Feli, I'm home," John called out, his voice carrying a sense of warmth and familiarity. I couldn't help but marvel at how confident he seemed that I would stay, a realization that brought a small smile to my lips as our gazes met. Despite my lingering nerves, I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the sight of him. His warm smile was infectious, filling me with a sense of comfort and reassurance. While uncertainty still loomed on the horizon, the curiosity about his offer outweighed any lingering apprehension. I returned his smile, genuinely happy to see him. As he made his way toward me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that had led me here. Whatever lay ahead, I was determined not to miss out on the opportunity that lay before me, embracing the luxury and possibility that surrounded me in John's penthouse. Marge emerged from the kitchen just as John grabbed the TV remote and switched off the TV. "Did she behave?" he asked, his gaze directed at Marge. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as he spoke over my head about me. "Yes, Sir, Miss Feli behaved like an angel," Marge replied with a warm smile, her eyes flickering between John and me. We both chuckled at her formal address using my nickname, but I couldn't help but feel puzzled by their conversation. Why were they discussing my behavior as if I weren't in the room? And why did Marge feel the need to comment on it when we had barely interacted since she arrived? "Good to hear," John replied, grinning down at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that I had come to detest. "Dinner is served, Sir," Marge announced politely, breaking the momentary silence. "Thank you, Marge. You're excused," John replied, and Marge quickly gathered her things and left the penthouse. As John and I made our way toward the dining table, I couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over me, a feeling that this dinner would bring with it more than just good food and polite conversation. We ate in silence for a while, savoring the delicious meal that Marge had prepared for us. The flavors danced on my tongue, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget about the weight of the impending conversation. John broke the silence as he took a sip from his glass of wine, his expression warm and genuine. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said, his smile reaching his eyes. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "Well, the least I could do is hear you out after you've been so nice to me," I mumbled back, my voice barely above a whisper. I took another forkful of the heavenly food, grateful for the distraction it provided from the nervous tension that lingered between us. As John returned with two sets of papers and a pen, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. The weight of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Just moments ago, it had all felt like a dream, but now, faced with the official-looking documents in front of me, it was undeniably real. He sat down opposite me, presenting one set of papers while holding onto the other. I could feel the tension in the air as he explained, "This is an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement you need to sign. Once you've signed this, I can sue you if you tell anyone about what you're going to hear today. Marge also had to sign one before working for me." My throat went dry as I glanced over the paper, knowing full well the gravity of what I was about to agree to. I knew I needed to read it thoroughly before putting pen to paper. Skimming through the document, I confirmed that it was indeed just an NDA, outlining the terms of confidentiality regarding the information I was about to receive. Satisfied that I understood its contents, I took a deep breath and put my signature at the bottom of the page. Looking up at John expectantly, I braced myself for whatever revelation awaited me. As John placed the other set of papers in front of me, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me. But before I could even glance at the documents, he kept his hand on them and locked eyes with me, his gaze warm and sincere. "Now that you've signed the NDA, I can tell you about the offer," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the nervous energy building inside me as I awaited his next words. "Long story short: I want you to become my baby for a month," he stated, the words hanging in the air between us like an electric charge. My mind reeled at the unexpectedness of his proposition, and I struggled to comprehend the full implications of what he was suggesting.

I've added a "Get Well Mom" fund to the donation window. Donations to this fund will help me pay for Gas, parking and fuel while Mom is in the hospital. If anyone cares to help with a few dollars I'd appreciate it! https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/clients/donations/24-get-well-mom-fund/

"He floored it." Great ending to a great chapter. And someone needs to get the shovel away from Sarah, because when you're in a hole you need to stop digging.

Oh the bedazzled diaper look a couple female celebrities have done this.

I've been there, and I know exactly what the pain from pancreatitis feels like. I had a second attack of it several years after the first. The therapy for that is to pour fluids through you intravenously and not otherwise feed you. In my case I was up to pee every four hours round the clock. Both times for 3-4 days. The second time I was in the hospital they convinced me that since this was the second attack of pancreatitis I should have my gall bladder removed. I was against it but the hospitalist said "Oh pooh, it's like your appendix, you don't need it." The gall bladder removal was a snap - it was done laparospically on a Monday morning, and the next morning I was driving home. So all in all, I wouldn't worry all that much. Knowing what the problem is and the normal outcome should help. Feel free to ask any questions....

I had a conversation with my mom and one sister, medicine side effects came up. My sister had a severe one to a medicine. I mentioned my diarrhea, and neither brought up me wearing a diaper, despite me having done so for over 20 years in front of them. So, yeah people just don't notice.

https://incont.org/

“Now…” Lilith said, kneeling down in front of Maggie, purposefully not cutting off Mikey’s line of sight. “You’re obviously a very vulgar person, and that's not okay,” Lilith said, watching Maggie’s wide eyes stare back at her. “So, we’re going to do a little bit of behavior training, and once you’ve learned how to be a decent, respectful member of society, Mommy will let you go,” Lilith said with a smirk. Maggie opened her mouth to speak, only to be met with a silencing finger from Lilith. “Nuh uh, not yet,” She said in a low, serious tone. “So you’re going to do as I say, when I say. You’re going to play nice, and you’re going to be respectful to both me and your new little brother. Do you understand?” Maggie nodded hesitantly, unsure of how any of this was possible. “We use our words in this household,” Lilith insisted, waiting for Maggie’s response. “Yes…” Maggie said quietly through her breath. “Now try again with proper manners,” Lilith insisted. “Yes…ma’am?” She said, unsure of what she meant. “Hmmm, better, but I think I prefer Mommy,” Lilith said with a smirk. “So let's try again,” “Yes, M- Mommy,” Maggie stuttered, feeling completely unsure of herself. “Good job!” Lilith cooed, turning to head towards the kitchen. “Keep it up and you’re on your way to earning a gold star!” Maggie sat still as Mikey let his second brain take over, slowly leaning forward into a crawling position as he shuffled across the floor towards Maggie, reaching out in an attempt to squeeze her breast as Maggie scooted back, forcing herself to stand up as she used her hands for leverage. The unease in her body combined with the sudden movement caused her stomach to rumble as she stood still, slowly wobbling as she gained her balance. She looked at Mikey in his desperate state as she stuck her tongue out at him in an attempt to ignore her stomach. She went to say something in a teasing manner, to remind him he should be embarrassed about his current state when her stomach rumbled harder as she practically buckled over. Fear came over Maggie’s face as she stood in panic, feeling herself start to lose the battle as she desperately scanned the living room, Mikey dumbly staring back at her. “Ma- Mommy?” She said, hating the words as he heard herself say them. “Yes, dear?” Lilith responded, actively preparing lunch in the kitchen. “Uh- toilet?” Maggie said, starting her waddle towards the hallway where she could only assume the restroom was. “Don’t be silly, dear. You’re wearing yours!” She said with a smirk. “N- no…no…” Maggie started, finding it difficult to think through the brain fog. “Number…two…” “Mhmm,” Lilith cooed. “Number ones, twos…threes,” She said with a wink towards Mikey as he turned himself around. “They all go in your nice fluffy diaper,” She said. Panic set in as Maggie continued to waddle towards the hall, desperate to find a toilet as the pressure built, nearing a point of no return. She approached one of the doors, but with a quick swoosh from Lilith, the handle wouldn’t budge. Maggie pulled on the handle with all of her force. “Pwease!” She called out, desperately trying to get the handle to budge. “Pw-” She started, suddenly feeling the release of pressure as the warm stream of mud flooded the back of her diaper, quickly spreading across her cheeks as she stood in horror. Mikey’s mouth hung open as he watched Maggie’s diaper expand in every direction as it slowly started to sag more and more as the once white padding turned a darker shade of brown. “Oh- oh-” Maggie stumbled, feeling disgusted as the warm filth pressed against her skin and the weight pulled her downwards. “Oh my-” She started, unable to find the words she was looking for. “Why…how…” She stumbled. “I- I-” She started as tears rolled down her cheeks, quickly breaking into sobs. “This is so unfair!” She cried out. “Aww, did someone have an accident?” Lilith cooed from the kitchen, smiling with a devilish grin as she looked back to see Maggie in a vulnerable state. “No! I…you f- f-,” She stumbled. “Why are words so hard!” She cried out, standing with her legs spread as she remained unsure of what to do. “You made me!” She screamed, sniffling as she tried to wipe her tears away. Mikey’s eyes glazed over as he fantasized about playing with his messy sister as she broke down in tears in front of him, throwing a fit he was sure would get a harsh punishment from Lilith. His cock hardened, pushing the confines of his squishy prison as he tried to rock forward in a discrete motion. “Now, now, sweety,” Lilith called out. “Mommy will get you changed just after lunch!” “Wha- no!” Maggie cried. “Fu- fire- change me!” “Sweety,” Lilith called out from the kitchen. “Mommy doesn’t like bratty littles,” Maggie tried to walk, feeling the heavy weight beneath her legs as it threw her off balance, sending her tumbling backwards onto her overfilled diaper as it squirted out the leg holes and onto the carpet. She let out a scream as tears rolled down her face, the impossible situation only turning worse as the smell of her accident filled the room as her sobs echoed through the house. Lilith had finally had enough, setting down what she was doing before firmly stomping her way over to Maggie, picking her up and carrying her down the hallway, unphased by the accident. Desperate to see what would happen next, Mikey assumed his position as he crawled after them on all fours, eager for a conclusion to the fit. Maggie kicked about in a lousy attempt to escape Lilith’s clutch, who seemed unphased by her attempts as she carried her to Mikey’s changing table, where a quick flick of her wrist had added some bondage restraints to tie Maggie down with. Sparkles of light danced past Mikey as he watched them flicker off the wall in a swift, elegant motion heading down the hall towards his nursery where they effortlessly stacked together, creating a bright, twinkling glow as they transformed half of the room. Vibrant shades of pink seeped through the walls as a whole new crib appeared out of thin air, dotting together an assortment of colorful wall art to match, with a plethora of stuffies and toys as they quickly transformed what was once a simple toy shelf in to everything that Lilith would need to take care of her newest addition. Mikey crawled with desperation, eager to see the new room from all angles as he finally approached the doorway, grateful for the soft, plush carpet that nicely padded his knees as he stared at the pink half of the room in wonderment, almost completely oblivious to the straps that had magically appeared at his changing station that Maggie was being fastened into as she tried to kick her way free from Lilith’s grip. “Wow…” Mikey let out, mesmerized by the sudden changes that Lilith could make with ease, almost without a second thought. “Mommy?” He let out, turning to ask her a question as if he had suddenly forgotten Maggie’s predicament as he stared up at what was clearly Maggie’s messy bottom as Lilith worked to wipe it clean. Mikey felt his own inner balls of light begin to dance around as the question he was going to ask quickly faded from his mind. His mouth formed a wide-o of wonderment as he watched Lilith work her motions, plopping backwards into a criss cross position as he felt a mass of his own reform in the front of his diaper. His hand autonomously migrated towards the mass, slowly kneading the wet padding against his growing mound as he watched Maggie’s diaper change, a sensational experience he hadn’t had in some time. “Now if I take these restraints off, are you going to keep kicking?” Lilith asked, having finished taping up Maggie’s fresh diaper. Maggie shook her head as the tears dried up. “Big girls use their words,” Lilith said, starting to undo one of the leg straps. “You want to be a big girl again, don’t you?” “Yes…Mommy,” Maggie said, feeling mortified about what had just happened. “Good,” Lilith said, as she finished removing the straps, helping Maggie off the table and onto the floor where she quickly discovered Mikey’s presence. Mikey quickly slid his hand away from his bulge, eyes now locked on Maggie's bare breasts again as he felt the need for release. “Oh, hi sweetie,” Lilith cooed, scruffing his hair up as she turned around to see him.. “Why don’t you show little Miss Maggie here around your room? Mommy will be right back,” She said as she casually exited the room. Mikey sat still, staring up at Maggie as she stood awkwardly while Lilith left the room. Mikey’s bulge continued to push into the soft, mushy confines of his diaper as he stared up at Maggie practically ready to drool. “What?” Maggie scoffed, crossing her arms to cover her breasts, cutting off Mikey’s direct gaze as he fidgeted about in an attempt to hide his throbbing mound. “You’re pretty…” Mikey said quietly as he blushed, slowly migrating his hand back to the front of his diaper, unable to prevent himself any longer. Maggie rolled her eyes before Lilith returned with a small pale of water and a brush, setting it on the floor. “Oh, is your little brother keeping his eyes on you?” Liltih smirked, noticing Maggie’s crossed arms and Mikey’s discreetly placed hand. Maggie wasn’t sure what to say, or what the appropriate response was as she stood awkwardly, scanning the room in an attempt to avoid eye contact. “Here,” Lilith said, making her way to the closet as she opened it up, pulling out a bright pink onesie covered in unicorns. “Let's get you dressed, then you have a mess to clean up,” Maggie scoffed, unimpressed by the wardrobe choice or the thought of cleaning up her own mess, purposefully looking away as Lilith made her way over to her. “Arms up!” Lilith said, practically grabbing Maggie’s arms herself. Maggie didn’t bother to fight it, helping lift her arms as Lilith slid the onesie over her, kneeling down to help button up the crotch strap between her legs. “Perfect! Now let's get you setup to clean your mess,” “But-” Maggie started. Lilith stopped, looking back at Maggie as she waited for what she had to say. “Well?” “Nothing…” Maggie said, giving up as she realized it wasn’t worth it. “That's what I thought,” Lilith said, before making her way back to the door as she picked up the pale. “And don’t worry, Mommy will be right back to deal with you, little rascal,” Lilith said towards Mikey with a wink as he smiled up at her from the floor. Enjoying the story so far? Want to read the next couple of chapters early without waiting? Consider supporting my work over on SubscribeStar!

It's what I'd want to listen to lol.

I had actually managed to get this almost done last night. I've been poking away at it as my vision allows me to read. All I really had to do was edit it. Thank you again for checking in!

Chapter 18 (Sunday, Day 4) I examined the pull-up in my hand, tracing the outline of the butterfly on the front with my fingertips. "It's actually kind of cute," I mused silently, feeling a faint blush creeping into my cheeks. Rising from my bed, I allowed the towel wrapped around me to fall to the floor, leaving me standing naked in the center of my bedroom. In that moment, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. This was the moment I had feared, yet paradoxically, it also held the solution I desperately needed. By donning this pull-up, I would essentially be surrendering to my circumstances. As I contemplated, memories of the past few days flooded my mind. I had repeatedly promised myself that I would gain control over my bladder issues, only to fail miserably each time. Reflecting on the times when I had genuinely not cared about wetting myself, I couldn't help but question whether it was my body betraying me or simply my own negligence. Shaking my head to dispel the doubts, I reminded myself, "It's never happened before, and I'd know if it were my fault." Summoning a newfound determination, I finally mustered the courage to put on the pull-up. Unfolding it, I carefully threaded my feet through the leg holes, slowly pulling it up my legs. A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I realized the reason behind its name. Running my hands over the snug fabric, I adjusted it into place, finding it to be a perfect fit. As I approached the mirror, the padding between my legs became apparent, though it wasn't as uncomfortable as I had anticipated. It felt like a soft, gentle embrace, akin to a comforting pillow. Admitting to myself that it was rather nice, I made a mental note never to share that sentiment with anyone else. Examining my reflection, I took in the sight of my damp brown hair cascading around my shoulders, still slightly wet from my bath. My eyes held a myriad of emotions – a mixture of broken despair, embarrassment, and tentative hope. My eyes wandered down my body. There was an innocence to my flat chest that spoke of juvenility, accentuated by the presence of the pull-up snugly encasing my hips. A faint smile graced my lips as a wave of dizziness washed over me once more. Memories of strange dreams flooded my mind – standing before my classmates, running through the park, getting diaper checked by my mom, and even wetting myself while trying a dress on in a clothing store. They all merged into a blur, leaving me unable to distinguish between dream and reality. Lost in the haze, I found myself gazing into my own eyes, a sense of contentment washing over me, accompanied by a gradual warmth spreading inside the pull-up between my legs. Time seemed to blur as I stood there, lost in introspection, until the grumble of my stomach jolted me back to reality. Turning away from the mirror, I rummaged through my closet in search of my favorite nightgown, only to recall that it had been soaked through just hours earlier. A pang of disappointment tugged at my heart, not because of the discomfort of wetting the bed, but rather because I longed to wear the familiar garment. Opting instead for a pair of gray sweatpants and a purple shirt, I surveyed my reflection one last time, noting with satisfaction that the pull-up was practically invisible beneath my clothing. With new determination, feeling safer and more confident than I had in quite a while, I left my bedroom behind, descending the stairs to the kitchen below, ready to face the day ahead. "Morning, pumpkin," my dad greeted me from the kitchen table, his coffee mug cradled in his hands. Stepping into the room, I returned his greeting with a contented smile, the warm padding of the pull-up still comforting me with every step. "Morning, Dad," I replied, the warmth in my voice reflecting my newfound sense of ease. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed me. "Looks like someone's in a good mood today," he chuckled, a smile playing on his lips. As I made my way to the fridge, intent on pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I could feel my mom's curious gaze upon me. Standing in front of the stove, tending to pancakes, she watched me with a curious expression, her eyebrow raised in silent inquiry. I met her gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between us.She was undoubtedly wondering about the sudden shift in my demeanor, and I couldn't blame her. With a subtle shrug, I conveyed my silent response. After I finished pouring the glass of orange juice, I carefully made my way over to the table where my dad was sitting. Each step felt deliberate, almost as if I were navigating through uncharted territory, acutely aware of the soft padding of the pull-up beneath my clothes. Setting the glass down on the table, I took a moment to gather my thoughts before taking a seat in front of my dad. As I settled into the chair, the warm cushioning of the pull-up provided a strange but oddly comforting sensation, reminding me of its presence with every shift in position. Across the table, my dad looked up from his coffee, offering me a warm smile of greeting. Returning the smile, I felt a flicker of gratitude for his unwavering support, he was simply happy to see me happy. Glancing at my dad, I couldn't help but wonder how much he already knew. "Does Dad know?" I directed my question at my mom as she set down the pancakes in front of us and took a seat next to my dad. "Just what I mentioned earlier," my mom replied, her tone gentle yet guarded. "I haven't told him about our conversation yet." Before I could process her response, my dad interjected with casual curiosity, "Oh, so you guys finally had your talk?" Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized that he was already somewhat aware of my struggles. I nodded meekly, my embarrassment growing with each passing moment. Grabbing a pancake and placing it on my plate, I focused on the task at hand, trying to avoid my dad's gaze. However, his next question drew my attention back to him. "Did you discuss anything I need to know?" he inquired, his tone casual yet attentive. Panic surged within me, and I shook my head hastily, unable to meet his gaze, not wanting to spill my beans again this quickly. Thankfully, my mom came to my rescue, sensing my discomfort. "We can discuss it later," she said gently, directed at my dad, her words a lifeline in my sea of embarrassment. With that, she too helped herself to a pancake, leaving me to grapple with my crimson blush and the pancake on my plate. A few pancakes drowned in syrup later, amidst light-hearted small talk, my mom suddenly broached the topic again. "Soo..." she began tentatively, her gaze fixed on me. "How do they feel?" Her question caught me off guard, and I choked slightly on the orange juice I was sipping, stealing a glance at my dad. His knowing expression confirmed that he had already suspected what my mom was referring to. "Hmm, not too bad, I guess," I replied, mustering a nonchalant tone despite the unease swirling within me. To my relief, my mom didn't seem to notice my hesitation; instead, she appeared visibly relieved. "I was really worried you'd make a fuss about it, you know?" she admitted, her voice tinged with relief. I furrowed my brow in confusion, unsure of what she meant. "What do you mean?" I asked, my confusion evident in my tone. My mom offered me a reassuring smile, her expression softening as she spoke. "Well, you know how teenagers your age usually are... always trying to prove they're all grown-up," she explained. "I'm just glad you accepted them so quickly." I shrugged, still mulling over her words as I took another sip of orange juice, the tangy sweetness momentarily distracting me from my thoughts. But as I pondered her words, a nagging doubt crept into my mind. "Am I really that different from other teenagers?" I wondered silently, the question lingering in the air. Sure, I had my bladder issues, which made me somewhat unique, but aside from that, was I really so different? Shaking off the thought, I pushed aside the burgeoning insecurity, unwilling to let it overshadow the newfound sense of acceptance I had finally embraced. After we had finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen, I retreated to my bedroom, sinking into the crinkling comfort of my bed. As I lay there, thoughts swirled through my mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind, each one a reminder of the support I had received and the burden of secrecy I had carried for far too long. Reflecting on the first time I had experienced an accident at school, I couldn't help but feel grateful for Lily's unwavering support. She had been my rock through it all, helping me navigate the challenges with grace and understanding. "Lily," I murmured to myself, a sudden realization dawning in my mind. "I should probably tell her the news." With newfound determination, I sat up on my bed, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. Dialing her number, I braced myself for her enthusiastic greeting. "Ellie!" Lily practically screamed into the phone, her excitement palpable even through the device. It was moments like these where Lily’s enthusiasm and energy always reminded me of a dog, well, an emotional support dog I guess. "Hey, Lily," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "What's up?" she asked eagerly. Taking a deep breath, I began to explain, stumbling over my words as I struggled to find the right way to broach the subject. "Well... how do I put this... uhm... I guess long story short, my parents know," I finally managed to say, my voice soft and hesitant. Her response was immediate. "Your parents know what?" she questioned, her confusion evident. Sighing inwardly, I realized that I would have to be more direct. "You know... my bladder issues and stuff," I admitted reluctantly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks. "Oh," she gasped, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. "Oh gosh, oh no, what did they say? Did they put you back in diapers?" Her questions came rapid-fire, her worry palpable even from a distance. Taken aback by her assumption, confused why this was the first thing she thought about, I stumbled over my words, trying to find the right way to explain. "Err... I guess, wait no, I mean... technically they're called pull-ups," I clarified, hoping to ease her concerns. Her next question caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. "Oh gosh, are they bad? Are they forcing you?" she pressed further, her voice tinged with apprehension. "No," I reassured her quickly, grateful for the opportunity to clarify. "I mean they're not forcing me, and I guess they're perfect for my issues... at least for now. I'm not sure how they'd hold up at night though." My voice trailed off uncertainly as I contemplated the implications. "What do you mean at night?" Lily's voice cut through my thoughts, her curiosity piqued by my admission. With a deep breath, I braced myself for her reaction as I began to explain the nighttime struggles that had plagued me recently, revealing the truth behind my mother's confrontation earlier that morning. "Uhm... where do I start," I began, feeling the weight of the conversation bearing down on me. "It's been happening two days in a row now, and yesterday I managed to wash all my sheets before my parents woke up. But this morning, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep in front of the washing machine, where my mom found me and confronted me." I deliberately omitted most of the details, not wanting to dwell on the tears shed in that vulnerable moment. "So she found you this morning and you told her everything, and then she got you the diapers?" Lily pieced together the puzzle, her tone filled with curiosity. "Wait, it's Sunday, and all the shops are closed. Where did she get the diapers from?" she continued before I had a chance to interject. "Well, first off, they're called pull-ups," I corrected her gently, seizing the opportunity to clarify. "Sorry, pull-ups," she corrected herself, eager to understand. "And secondly,” I continued, “she apparently knew for quite a while. She gave me the pull-ups yesterday morning, actually," I explained, hoping to shed some light on the situation. "I don't understand," Lily replied, her confusion evident in her tone. I noticed a little pressure nagging me at the edge of my mind. I pushed a little and felt my pull-up becoming warm again, relieving the tension. With a deep sigh, I realized just how complicated and confusing this whole ordeal truly was to explain.

I live in an area with a lot of steep hills, when going up them you get a pretty good underside view of anyone walking in front of you. I've noticed so many people (especially older ladies) with a subtle, but obvious to me, pull-up/diaper outline where the crack of their butt should be. So many people wear protection it's crazy. Never be ashamed of wearing in public, lots of people do every single day. If somebody notices my butt, so be it. I always have at least a pull up or xl diaper liner (e.g. North shore dynadry) on, if not a tape diaper. I'm young and active, and I'm not ashamed of anyone notices. I am incontinent. It's a mindset. I use the products that are made for people like me who can't or won't make it to the toilet. When I do make it to the toilet, I'm not ashamed of anyone notices my pull up, pulled down in my jeans through the cracks in the bathroom stall. They might notice it's a little off-white-yellow, that's on them.

Hey! I’m new here, well kinda… have been lurking in the shadows for years 😆. Becca, reading your story has really been inspiring for me. I’m another female, who is in her early thirties. For probably the better of 10 years I’ve toyed with the idea of going 24/7, but kept getting stuck when it came to leaving my house, coupled with the usual shame etc that everyone has had. Despite all of my breaks, the binge purge cycles, I still can’t shake wanting to transition to 24/7. I wore all through Covid, and I actually wear at home 90% of the time now, but get stage fright leaving my house. But I can feel it in my bones that I’m ready to make the change. Reading your thread here has helped me decide that I’m going to try and go the 24/7 route and just stick with it. I have a large collection of stuff anyway so I’m more than prepared and now I feel just a little less alone. thank you so much for sharing!!!

Thank you for being open about the problems and/or complications that have occurred post op. While I am rooting for you and the option it presents, I think being realistic is important.

This guy will be addressed in a future story. Not planning any more action but then again I really didn't plan on the wannabe either! The Headmistress thinks of them as Nanny crushes. I would think they would get dealt with before being let go from BB's. Martin represents the one that never addressed his feelings before leaving and they never got reconciled. He's had 9 months to talk himself into an obsession. I will address Martin in another story. I think the Headmistress just makes those poor boys with crushes spend some time with Nanny Marge!

If they make adult diapers. Would be plain white. Hopefully P&G would make a larger version of Pampers Swaddlers.

Yep... we won't be stopping with high school here. That woman is a born saleswoman! Manipulative with a Capital M!

II. An Offer Like No Other “So spill the beans, what is it Mom?” Samantha asked, seemingly breaking the silence that permeated the interior of Mommy’s Tahoe. “Well, how would you like your sister to go to college with you in the Fall?” Mommy asked. I sat there a little incredulous, and looking over, it was apparent Samantha was, too. “College? Jaclyn? Mom, I’ll be going to school all day and playing volleyball, I won’t have time to be changing dirty diapers and giving bottles all day, no offense Jaclyn,” she looked over at me as if I cared. I just smiled, and Samantha gave me a little grin back with an exaggerated wave. I loved her, she was my big sister. “Well, I think that Jaclyn’s journey may be at a bit of an end, at least this phase. She’s been basically trending around 2 years old for the last four years or so, and you know, maybe it’s time to help her grow up, be who she wants, you know? Be Jaclyn, instead of a baby,” Mommy went on. “Sure, but, I mean Mom, you’ve just had to change her diaper in the car here, she seems happy, I think, but you know, I would love to have her there.” “I’m sure you would, at the very least, you could help her acclimate to being a big girl, and all that comes with it, because we all know being a girl isn’t that easy,” Mommy laughed. “So here’s what I wanted to talk to you about. With it being summer, I propose that we spend this summer trying to potty train Jaclyn. It’s going to be a lot of work, because well, potty training isn’t easy, and it’s going to take all hands on deck. *If* we can get Jaclyn out of diapers during the day, Jacy’s therapist has suggested an accelerated progression program that would put her right on par with any 19 year old going to college, wouldn’t you like that Jacy?” she smiled at me. Funny that they’d suggest me doing anything advanced, after all, I was sitting here with a pacifier in my mouth, and what I’m pretty sure was another warming pee stream into my recently changed diaper. College student, yeah right. I was willing to try anyting though. I smiled and nodded. “Well looks like Princess Potty Pants is on board too,” Aunt Becky quipped, sparking a laugh from the rest of the car’s occupants. Things got serious again. Mommy began talking again, this time in a more ominous tone. “This is a bit of a test, though. Jacy’s therapist wants to see how much Jacy wants to progress,” Mommy began, “and has suggested that if Jacy shows any signs of wanting to stay back, or not wanting to progress, that she just remain a baby forever.” This too, made my eyes wide. A baby forever? Sure, this seemed like it had been going on forever, but I didn’t think it was really that long, was it? You know what was really a long time though? Forever. Yeah, that was a long time. I wanted to grow up, I think. I wanted to go pal around with Samantha and her friends, I think. I didn’t want to be a stinky baby the rest of my life, even if I had to admit that I did enjoy the treatment at times. Taking note of my reaction, Mommy must have anticipated it I guess and told us, “Well, and there’d be other changes,” she started, “such as you actually ‘growing down’ to an actual baby size, for one.” I think this time, everyone had my look after the previous statement. “A baby size? How is that even possible?” Samantha asked incredulously, Aunt Becky nodded as if seeking the answer herself. “My company, you know, the one that originally brought Jaclyn into my orbit, well, they’ve perfected a new formula. The previous formula had a side effect of only ‘regressing’ bladder and bowel control, the last four years and AI have brought on a new formula that allows for the entire body to feel the same effect, isn’t htat cool?” “So you’d use it on Jaclyn?” Aunt Becky asked. “Yes. Because as all three of us know, Jacy can be a bit heavy to move around at times, and I really want to keep our own bodies in mind,” Mommy told them, almost reassuringly. They nodded. I mean, I couldn’t blame them I guess, pushing a hundred or so pounds around in a stroller couldn’t be easy or fun all the time, not to mention lifting me for diaper changes, feedings, etc. “Ah, that does make sense,” Aunt Becky told her, “plus, it opens up a lot of new avenues to buy baby clothes and everything else, right?” “Oh yes, it just makes everything a lot more easier, I mean, wouldn’t it just be easier to buy diapers at Target?” To this, they all three nodded with a echoing “um hmm”; if there was anything these three shaed an interest in, it was trips to Target. All three loved to grab their coffees at the front and push me around while they went and looked endlessly for home décor, baby wipes, or anything else they needed. About the only thing they couldn’t find for me there right now was diapers. I guess I could kind of see Mommy’s point. “So there you go then,” she spoke, before turning to me, “so what do you think Jaclyn? Do you want to be a big girl?” I could try I suppose. What’s the worst that could happen if I didn’t make it? Suckling Mommy’s boobies forever as the size of a baby? Wouldn’t be terrible, but..no, I couldn’t think that way. I needed to be a big girl, I think. I nodded and smiled, even clapped a bit. “Awww, good girl, I knew you’d be happy,” Mommy smiled, “Now let’s go get to Samantha’s party, shall we?” We drove back towards the house, I looked over at Samantha, who was smiling. I sure was a lucky little girl, even if I did still like to gamble with razors. For my own, I didn’t quite know what to think. I mean, I was pretty much fully drenched in the full throes of babydom at this point, but I still understood what was going on around me, even if I wasn’t given full credit for it. I had A LOT running through my head at this point, and if on cue… “Oh man,” *sniff sniff* I think I smell a stinky girl in here, *sniff sniff””, I heard Mommy say, “Samantha, can you just check?” I felt Samantha move over across our aisle, “Ummhmm,” she groaned a bit, “yes, she’s the stinky culprit,” gagging while laughing. “We’re all buckled in, I’ll just change her back at home,” Mommy said. “Make sure you roll the windows down, we need air in here, sooo much air,” Aunty Becky exaggeratedly laughed. And so we went. As we began to drive, I sat in my poopy diaper, thinking about what had just happened. It was the anxiety, you know. It seemed like any time I hit anything remotely stressful, at least in my own mind, that was my reaction. My last poop was a Mommy Milk Coma, but this one was just a full on “panic poopy”, as I’d started thinking of them as. The fact of the matter was, even if I’d have wanted to go back to being an adult at this point, I’d have so much adjustment, that staying here and being re-raised by Mommy only made sense at this point. I loved her though and I’d grown to love being the baby of the family though, I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else at this point. Which is what made this whole thing so difficult. I loved Samantha, but I was really attached to Mommy, like really attached. Which made my reaction to this so…obvious. I just started crying. Bawling my eyes out. What a sight I was, sitting here in a poopy diaper, crying my eyes out because my Mommy was going to probably make me a forever baby now. To top it all off, the windows were down too, giving a whole row of entertainment or a walking birth control ad to anyone who got to witness it. “Ohhh, what’s wrong Jac-y? Something the matter,” Samantha tried to console me. “Mommy…baby foh-evah?” I sputtered back. “Ohhh, no sweetie, it’d just be for a little while, you’ll be with Samantha, and Auntie Claudia, and everyone else!” Mommy tried her best. “Buuut Mommmyyyy!!!” I wailed. I couldn’t’ control myself at this point, I really couldn’t. I’d been conditioned to become this way. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “Oh Princess Poopy Pants, it’ll all be ok,” Auntie Becky chimed in rather warmly, “we’ll get you trained before you know it!” “It’s not going to be for a little while, we’re not starting until *maybe* tomorrow,” Mommy told me, almost laughing. “We’ll get you into some clean panties and I’ll give you some num-nums at the house before the party, sound good?” “Ummhmm” I tried to calm down, nodding. It made me feel better, a little I guess, but I still didn’t want Mommy to leave. The rest of the ride home was uneventful. The three adults talked about school stuff, I think. I was blocked out in my head, trying to process the situation with my new increasingly overemotional state I’d found myself in. I guess it was the regression, but still, I didn’t know. We finally got home; apparently, we were the first ones. It was an empty house. While Samantha and Auntie Becky got everything out of the car, Mommy unbuckled me and took me and the diaper bag inside, and carried me up to my nursery. It was my naptime, too, and I supposed it would be nice for everyone to have a break from a sobbing poopy cranky toddler. I sobbed in her shoulder as I was supported by her insanely strong arms and grip. My Mommy was a superhero it seemed like! She layed my limp sobbing body on to the changing table and began to make sense of my poopy mess smeared across the entirety of my diaper area. “Oh honey, your little bottom is just covered in stinkies, just covered in little stinkies,” she teased as she continued to wipe my bottom. I even broke a smile a bit. “There’s my smiling little Princess, a stinky one, but a smiling one now!” she mused. “Are you sad Mommy is taking a trip?” I nodded. “Probably why you pooped your panties too, huh?” she inquired in an exaggerated tone. I nodded, smiling a bit again. “You’re a little girl that just loooooves pooping her panties, aren’t you?” I smiled and nodded. “Good thing you’ve got a great Mommy to keep your stinky little butt clean,” she smiled, as if expecting some applause. “Wuv you Mommy,” I lisped behind my pacifier. “I love you too, Jac-y, I love you so much. Don’t be sad for Mommy, I’ll be back before you know it, plus you’ll get to spend some quality time with Big Sissy, won’t it? Won’t that be fun to be with Big Sissy Samantha?” She had a point. I nodded. Probably wouldn’t miss changing my poopy diapers, especially as many as I’d been having lately. “Well good, now we’ve got you almost clean, just one more, and yep, all cleeean!” she spoke in a sing-song voice. Being back in a clean diaper was an amazing feeling, especially after being covered in all that poop. “Stay there for a sec, honey bug, Mommy needs to toss this nasty thing away, and we’ll get you some lunch real fast, sound good” As if I had a choice. My interactions were limited in this point in time, so I returned a sort of approving vacant look. “That’s what I thought, my little girl loves listening to her Mommy.” I smiled because I knew it was true. That’s why Mommy leaving was so hard. For the first time in my life, I’d really become attached. Mommy came back over and picked me off the table, and took me into her lap on the big comfy chair that she’d put in this new nursery. She unbuttoned her blouse, offering me her milk-dripping breast, which I happily latched onto and began suckling. Warm milk flowed into my mouth; this feeling never got old. If this was wrong, then I never wanted to feel right. I think I looked forward to this more than anything these days, that or playing with my dollies. “We needed to give you dinner early since the party’s coming, and I don’t know when I’d have time to feed you; my little girl is such an eager little eater," Mommy cooed as she ran her fingers through my hair.” I ate solids too, of course, but the only thing I drank was Mommy’s milk. If she couldn’t be there, she had a large supply of pumped milk that she kept in the downstairs refrigerator. I guess that’s what she was planning to do this time while she was gone. I loved Mommy’s milk, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy getting it from the source and not the bottle. Mommy switched me over to her other boob. “Feeling better Jac-y?” she asked in a somewhat concerned tone. I looked up and nodded, and continued to suckle. “There we go, that’s my little girl,” Mommy cooed as she kissed me on the forehead. I began to fall asleep in her arms. It was early, but this was usually my nap time, and after the day I had, I was soon drifting off into my own set of dreams. I came to a little while later; this is how my naps typically went. Sleep for a few hours, and let me feel, yep, there’s another dirty diaper for someone to change. I was back in my nursery, laying in my crib. I could hear talking downstairs; the party Mommy was talking about must have started already. As was typical, I was lying in an extremely wet diaper, but what else was new? If I didn’t, I’d be concerned, if I was being completely honest. At least I had a good view of my nursery; I really did love playing in here, and it was the perfect place to sleep when I needed to do it. There was a ton of stuff in here; it looked different than my old one, this one was really customized for “Princess Jaclyn”. There were cool paintings on the walls that Auntie Becky had painted, there were princess prints, unicorns, and really just about anything any little girl like me could ask for. As much as I liked to gaze at these things though, I wanted to be out and playing. “Ummummmummm” I started making noises that were obvious. There was a monitor in here, I knew someone would be up soon enough. And just like that, I heard steps coming my way. The door opened, revealing Auntie Claudia. “Oh, hiiii Princess,” she cooed. “Aun-ee Cwaadya!” I lisped behind my pacifier. “We heard a certain little Princess downstairs asking to go to the party! Do you know who that could be?” I shook my head, “nuh uhhhhh” I said with a bit of a smile. “You don’t? Is there another little Princess in this house?” “Nuh uhhh” I replied, shaking my head again, trying my best to tease. “Well, we need to find out then don’t we?” she teased, exaggeratedly putting her hands on her hips. She looked so much like Mommy it was scary. You could tell they were related at times like these, they even teased alike. She began taking the crib door down, reaching her hand into the front of my diaper, slipping a finger in the leg band. “Yep, just like I thought, wet tushy! Jac-yyys got a wettt tushhhhie,” she teased. “Let’s get your wet little bottom into something dry and see if we can find any other princesses besides this one here, alright?” she sang in a sweet Mommy-esque voice. She opened her arms, and I scooted around, plunging into them. Just like Mommy, she picked me up and carried me over to the changing table nearby. I laid back while she grabbed a new diaper and wipes and she quickly went to work. “Wow-ee Jac-y, did you drink the entire Kentucky River?” she teased, “I think it’s all in your diaper here!” I hadn’t had any leaks for a while, but she wasn’t wrong, I guess. My diapers could hold a ton, and I’d been drinking a lot of liquid, liquid that always found itself into the wet and often stinky confines of my diapers. I felt a familiar dryness soon enough, just as my bottom had taken a up and down vacation in the air for a few seconds; the diaper was pulled between my legs and taped tightly. “All done, there we go, alll dry Princess,” Auntie Claudia smiled, coming back over to where I was laying. I thought she was going to put me on her hip, but apparently she had other plans. She stood there, exaggerated once again, hands back on her hips. “So I heard a little girl was sad about her Mommy leaving,” she asked me. I nodded. “Well you shouldn’t be too upset, I think your big sissy might just be more than a little excited to spend the summer with you kiddo,” she told me, “your cousins and I are too; I think you might be coming over if your big sissy has things come up, won’t that be fun?” I thought about it. It did sound fun I guess. Caitlyn and Cassidy were always really fun to be around, and Auntie Claudia was well, my Auntie, and we always had fun over there. I was going to be sad to see Mommy leave though, I didn’t think it’d be forever. So I nodded. “Well that’s what I thought, we’ll have fun, and your Mommy will be back before you know it.” “Now let’s go downstairs, sound good? There’s caaaaake, I think I know a little princess who likes caaake,” she teased. I nodded and soon I was in her arms, on her hip going downstairs. I nuzzled my head into her neck, attempting to hide from it all. Everyone here took my strange situation in stride for whatever reason, but I still felt so reserved. I was a baby too, for all intents and purposes, and that status naturally came with doting, but still, I’d never truly gotten used to it. I’d had my diaper changed in front of strangers in bathrooms, by a lot of people at this party, they’d seen me at my worse emotional outbursts, but yet, I still had a sense of nervousness that was hard to put my little finger on. It was weird to me, I guess, because I’d never been the center of attention at any part of my former life. My parents always prioritized others, either my siblings or my cousins. Even Alanna had eyes elsewhere, I was basically a convenience. Not anymore. Today, it’ll be Samantha’s party officially, but I’ll get all the attention, or at least most of it. I’ve been thrust to the forefront, whether I’ve actually meant to or not. Auntie Claudia took me down through the sea of the living room. It was filled with people, people I knew. My family, Samantha’s friends, they were all here. I was happy to see them, of course, but I was happy to see Mommy too; she was sitting next to Auntie Becky with a few of the adults in the room, which, if Auntie Claudia’s direction was any indication, was where we were headed. “There she isssss!”, I heard Mommy exclaim. Auntie Claudia let me down, and I crawled my padded bottom as quickly as I could to my big sissy, completely etched in a smile, and I crawled to Mommy’s lap, cuddling quickly, all to a chorus of “awww’s” from the other adults. “Did you sleep well?” she asked me somewhat rhetorically, “I’m sure you did, you’re Mommy’s little deep sleeper, aren’tcha?”, she but her nose on mine, before giving me a big baby kiss on the cheek. “Feels like your bottom is dry too, nice warm little tushy, just like the way babygirl likes, huh?” I nodded. “Thanks for changing her Claudia,” Mommy looked at her sister, “I know she’s a little fountain these days.” “She sure was,” Auntie Claudia laughed, “good thing she’s got her diapers on, or else we’d be changing an awful lot of clothes.” Not resisting the opportunity to remind me of my stature, Auntie Becky jumped in, “I say that allll the time, it was the best decision you ever made,” she laughed, followed by a set of laughs from the others. “Let’s get you some cake, aaaand then you can go play with your cousins, or your big sissy; they’ve been asking for you since they got here,” Mommy teased, “just a popular little Princess,” she kissed me on the head. “Here you go Beth,” I heard Auntie Dana’s voice. I loved Auntie Dana, she was one of my first real babysitters, and I just…well…adored her. She was pretty, nice, amazing, and well, definitely out of my league. She was my Auntie, and though I may have harbored some of what you’d consider a “crush” way back when, things had definitely changed a bit, obviously. “Thanks Dana,” Mommy replied. “I can feed her if you want,” Auntie Dana told her, “I know that you’ve got a lot to tell everyone about.” “Ohh yes, if you don’t mind,” Mommy told her. “Over here with Auntie Dana, sweetie,” Auntie Dana patted the opening next to her. I obediently followed, but who wouldn’t want to be fed cake from their beautiful Auntie? I sat next to her, and she began feeding me, making small talk with everyone around her. She finally looked at me and smiled. “Jaclyn Claire, you have turned out to be one of the just most amazing little girls I’ve been around, I’m so sad that I don’t get to see you more,” she teased with an overexaggerated frown, “I know the girls both miss you too.” “I wuv you Auntie Dana,” I told her. “Ohhhh Auntie loves you too,” she smiled, putting me in a giant hug. As much anxiety as I had, things like this always made it subside. The hug was really tight! I think I got chocolate cake on everything but in my mouth; it was really all over the place. For something that should have been really simple, it had turned into quite a mess! “I have some wipes right here Dana,” I heard Mommy say, handing her a pack of wipes, “I think she managed to get everything dirty, even that pretty little dress of hers!” “This isn’t my first rodeo with this,” Auntie Dana laughed, wiping my face and hands, “I seem to remember a few times in the high chair with her back at home.” She finished, went back to holding me in a and looked at me, “Well little girl, we need to get you in something else, don’t we? I’m sure your Mommy has lots of cute little things we could dress you in right now, don’t you?” I’d wet my diaper in the midst of this; I was seemingly wet around the clock these days though, so I’m sure another diaper change was in order, done by someone in this little group. “I’ll go grab her something real quick, will you check her diaper too? She’s probably due for another one of those too, I’ll grab one,” I heard Mommy say. Soon I had yet another set of fingers checking my diaper, this time Auntie Dana. “Not like super wet, but probably could use a change, she has really sensitive skin doesn’t she?” Auntie Dana asked, looking at Mommy. “Oh yes, we’ve had some real problems with diaper rash with her, I’ll grab her a dry one when I’m upstairs.” We’ll be right here Beth, I’m getting in as many cuddles as I can, I don’t think it’ll leak between then and now” Auntie Dana laughed. “Just a little fountain,” I heard Auntie Becky say, “but a cute little fountain,” she smiled and winked at me. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around her marrying Mommy, but she was around so much anyway, I didn’t think that things could be THAT different. I snuggled in Auntie Dana’s lap for a little bit; I really missed her as my babysitter, she used to hold me like this a lot; it was uniquely her own. Pretty soon Mommy emerged holding a onesie, a changing pad, a few wipes, and a diaper. “Alrighty Princess, let’s get you all clean,” Mommy told me, “we might as well change your wet tushy while we’re at it.” I hadn’t thought about it happening down here; I was about to get an entire wardrobe change in front of a crowd of people, including my diaper. “Beth, I don’t mind doing it, after all, I kind of am partly responsible,” I heard Auntie Dana say. “It’s allll yours,” Mommy laughed, handing her the contents of her hands. “One second, let’s get Jac-y on the floor,” Auntie Dana told her. Soon I was on the floor; looking over, I saw my pink changing pad being laid down next to me. “Okay potty pants, let’s get you all clean and dry, shall we?” Auntie Dana looked at me, kind of pushing me towards the pad, as if I needed to take a hint. She popped a pacifier in my mouth for good measure. I went and assumed the position. I’d become so used to this, I don’t know what I’d do if I had anything happen otherwise. First my dress came off, and I was laying naked except for my diaper, and pretty soon, work started on that too. Some people looked, but others just went about their conversation as if a baby being changed in front of them was something that typically happened. It always blew my mind at how well this whole thing had gone. “Awww, did a certain little cutie make a mess in her panties?” I heard Samantha’s tell-tale teasing voice excitedly exclaim. Here I was, completely naked, Auntie Dana changing my wet diaper, and I looked up towards the source of her voice. There she was, standing there, beaming with delight, flanked by Rylie and Scarlett, who also seemed excited to see me, each featuring their own little exaggerated waves. Like I said, polar opposite things these days, life is stranger than fiction. Soon, I’d made eye contact with all three of them. “Hiiii Princess” the three of them spoke in a strange sort of unison. I really didn’t understand the mechanisms of how teenage girls operated, but I guess I’d never given it a ton of thought either. Maybe if Mommy ever let me get to that point, I would. Until then, they’d remain a mystery. I just kind of looked up at them, fairly sheepishly; I was in a fairly compromised situation. I just smiled a bit. “When she’s changed, you can have all the fun you want with her,” I heard Mommy say. I looked at Auntie Dana, “Don’t worry, we’ll get some snuggles in tonight,” she told me, “go have fun with your sissy, we’re almost done here.” She finished taping up my new diaper and putting the onesie on me, it was pink with a plaid pattern with a little ruffle around my bottom. It was cute I guess, definitely bougie, but Mommy was definitely a bougie Mommy. Auntie Dana snapped the onesie into place, and patted me on the bottom, “Go have fun with big sissy and her friends,” she smiled, “lots of fun.” “All dry AAAAND cute clothes? What a lucky little girl you are!” Samantha said, reaching for my hand, “let’s go play, okay? We need our princess fix, yes we do, yes we all do.” With that, I waddled off with Samantha and her friends. I was one of the girls I guess, and it felt amazing.

Chapter 2 There was a horrible silence following the Magician’s words. Even though it had barely been ten minutes since they’d finished their lunch, all five ladies were beginning to feel an uncomfortable pressure in their bladder and bowels. Abby was terrified. If she lost, she’d be made incontinent?! After what she’d seen, she had no doubt the Magician was capable of doing that. She glanced at the other girls. They looked utterly absurd with their bulky adult nappies pushing their thighs apart. She looked down at the bulging disposable diaper between her own legs, imagining what it would be like having to wear one all the time, to be so helpless that she couldn’t even control her most basic bodily functions, forced to pee and poop in her pants like some oversized infant! She felt sick. She couldn’t let that happen to her. She just couldn’t! Her life would be ruined! How would anyone find her attractive if she had to waddle around in stinky nappies wherever she went?! She’d just eaten a big lunch, and now, according to the Magician, her bladder and bowel control was the same as it had been when she was three years old. Had she been potty-trained at three? She must have been. Surely! Becky was panicking. She knew for a fact that she hadn’t been fully trained until she was four years old. She thought about the disgusting little brats at her daycare, stopping in the middle of their play to squat down and poop their pants without any control at all. If she lost, she’d be just like them. No! That wouldn’t happen to her. It couldn’t! She hated changing messy nappies more than anything in the world. The idea that she might have her own dirty diapers to deal with was just too horrible to contemplate! She clenched her bum cheeks as hard as she could and focused on staying clean. Madelyn knew she couldn’t let herself lose. There was no way she could show up at any of her women’s rights groups as a diaper-dependent thumbsucker. She’d be a joke! A cause of second-hand embarrassment for women everywhere! What kind of message would it be sending if an icon of the feminist movement was some kind of big baby? She sucked her thumb and concentrated as hard as she could on not pooping herself. Katherine was trembling in fear. She couldn’t keep her job as a model if she had to wear stupid diapers under her clothes all the time! She imagined trying to walk down the catwalk, waddling awkwardly, maybe even pausing halfway down to bend her knees, scrunch up her face, and fill her pants with a yucky mess. She’d probably be stuck doing diaper commercials for the rest of her career! Her outfits were so important to her – how she dressed was an expression of her identity, of her beauty and elegance. All diapers would do would show off how immature and helpless she was. If she ended up incontinent she might as well start wearing bonnets and baby dresses too! Susie still had horrible memories from when she’d been potty trained. Her mother managed to combine a ruthless severity with a nauseatingly patronising tone. Whoopsie-daisy! Susie did a wee-wee in her pants instead of using the potty like a big girl! I think someone just earned herself some smacky bum-bum time and a week with nothing to cover her nappy when her friends come over! Yes she did! The idea of ending up back in nappies forever was unthinkable. Even now the prospect of wetting her nappy, let alone messing it, sent a terrible shiver down her spine. She couldn’t let this happen to her! Becky was beginning to struggle. She knew she’d only lose if she messed herself, but she didn’t want to be the first to pee her diaper either. Her fidgeting became squirming, and her squirming became a full-on potty dance. She wasn’t the only one; pretty soon all five women were wiggling ludicrously on the spot, hands clutching between their legs. With a sudden, uncontrollable rush, Becky started pissing herself. She squealed in dismay, regretting it a moment later when she realised she might as well have just announced to everyone that she’d wet her nappy. The Magician walked forwards with a knowing smile. “Has Becky had a little accident?” he asked. Ignoring her whines of displeasure, he brushed her hands aside and cupped the front of her diaper. “Oh yes,” he said happily. “I think I know a certain little girl who’s done lots of wee-wees in her pants.” He spun her around suddenly and pulled out the waistband of her nappy to peek inside. “But no poo-poos yet. What a big girl!” Abby felt her own bladder give way shortly afterwards. It was disgusting! She hadn’t wet her pants since she’d been a very little girl, and it made her feel so small and pathetic, her nappy flooding with pee, the soggy padding pressed up against her nether regions. And she couldn’t even relax her stupid potty dance, because even though the pressure in her bladder had been relieved, there was a new pressure growing in her bottom, becoming stronger and stronger by the second. She pressed her hands to the back of her diaper, her brow furrowed in concentration. The Magician looked on gleefully at the five grown women he’d reduced to potty-dancing toddlers. Madelyn whined around her thumb, wiggling in place and making her nappy crinkle noisily. Katherine whimpered, all her dignity and poise forgotten as she hopped from foot to foot in a ridiculous potty dance, both hands pressed to the seat of her Pampers, her breasts bouncing around on her chest, barely contained by her bra. Susie squirmed in place, her face set, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead as she concentrated with all her might on not messing her pants. Abby and Becky were looking the most desperate. There was real panic on their faces as they felt themselves on the edge of losing control, facing a future where stinky diapers would be their regular underwear. Then, with a sudden loud fart, Becky helplessly bent her knees and stuck out her padded bottom. “Nooooo….” she whimpered, but it was too late. The beautiful, eighteen-year-old woman screwed up her face and started going to the potty in her own pants, just like those disgusting brats she had to change every day at work. She burst into tears as she pushed out a yucky mess uncontrollably into her nappy, too repulsed by what was happening in that moment to think about anything else. Abby started crying too as, only a moment or two later, she also started messing her nappy like a giant baby. But when she looked up through her blurry eyes, she saw that Becky had pooped her pants first. Despite how disgusting she felt, how thoroughly she’d degraded herself in front of an audience, one of them a very attractive man, a faint smile of relief appeared on her face. She hadn’t lost. The moment they saw Becky fill her pants, and Abby a few seconds later, Madelyn, Katherine, and Susie hurriedly toddled over to the plastic potties, tugged their sopping wet nappies off urgently, and planted their bare bottoms down on the tiny little things. They knew they must look totally ridiculous, three adult women perched on training potties sized for toddlers, but at least they didn’t look as absurd as Abby and Becky, standing bow-legged in their dirty diapers. They let go with immense relief, not even caring that they were doing number two in full view of everyone else in the room. As Becky finished loading her nappy, she looked up to see the Magician smiling down at her sinisterly. “Well, it looks like we have our loser,” he said. “Although you probably won’t be able to tell just at the moment, sweetheart, you should know that you are now totally incontinent.” “No!” Becky shrieked, her eyes wide and terrified. “I can’t! I can’t be incontinent! Please give me another chance!” “Awww, sorry stinky-pants,” the Magician said in mock-pity, “but it’s back to nappies full-time for baby Becky.” “Oh God no!” Becky wailed piteously, staggering backwards and staring down at the stinky diaper drooping heavily between her legs. She started breathing very fast. “This isn’t happening… This isn’t happening…” Abby felt a little bit sorry for her, but she was glad it was Becky, and not her, who would be making big smelly messes in her pants for the rest of her life. Her own nappy felt disgusting, and although she was relieved she hadn’t lost, she still felt a shiver of fear at how close she’d come to being turned into some gross, pants-pooping baby-woman forever. The Magician turned to the three women who’d made it to the potty. A pack of baby wipes materialised in his hand, and Madelyn, Katherine, and Susie suddenly realised they’d been provided with nothing to wipe their own bottoms with. “No, wait!” Susie said desperately as the Magician approached her first. “Can’t we just do it ourselves? We didn’t even lose the challenge!” “Come on now, sweetie. Get up and turn around. Daddy needs to wipe your bottom.” Cringing in shame, but too scared of further punishment to resist, Susie got up, turned around, and presented her bottom to the Magician to clean. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that none of the other girls were watching while the Magician worked at her messy bum with one cool wet wipe after the other. It reminded her once again of the days when she’d still been under her mother’s control. She’d made the mistake of smoking a cigarette in the bathroom once during her teens, and from that moment on she’d never been allowed privacy in the toilet – the bathroom door had to stay open at all times, and her mother would make sure to check on her regularly. But even worse had been when her mother had found a pair of her stained underwear in the clothes hamper. It had been hardly anything, but from then on, even though she’d been eighteen years old, her mother had insisted on wiping Susie’s bottom for her. With the threat of spankings, and many other punishments to keep her in line, Susie had had no choice but to give in. She blushed furiously as the Magician wiped her clean, feeling like the last three years of independence she’d experienced had suddenly been undone, and she was back in her mother’s house as nothing but an overgrown child. “There we go!” the Magician announced when he was done. “All clean! Now onto the next little lady.” He moved on to repeat the process with Katherine and Madelyn. Like Susie, the two of them wanted to fight and argue, but they were too humiliated and broken down by what had just happened. They just wanted to get clean again, so they submitted meekly to getting their bottoms wiped like little girls who were still being potty trained. Smiling in satisfaction, the Magician turned back to Becky, who was now looking dazed and confused. “I had to go potty…” she whispered, as if she didn’t really believe what had just happened. “You certainly did!” the Magician laughed delightedly. “But I’m afraid there won’t be any potties in your future from now on, sweetie. Just thick, crinkly diapers.” Becky broke down into hysterical sobs, the full weight of what had been done to her finally hitting. “Unless you win the competition, of course,” the Magician added, “in which case you can use one of your wishes to get back to normal.” He turned to the other girls. “Your rooms are down the corridor on the left. You’ll see your names on the doors. But I expect you back in the dining room in half an hour or so, understand? You’ll be voting on which of you gets removed from the game this evening, so you’ll need some time to talk to each other. You can all go and change first. Except for Becky here.” He turned back to her, smiling maliciously. “Having a messy bottom is going to be an everyday part of your life from now on, sweetie, so you need to get used to toddling around in poopy pants.” Becky started crying even more forcefully while the other girls hurried off to their rooms, their bare bottoms jiggling, and Abby waddled after them as quickly as she could in her messy nappy, desperate to get changed.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Twenty-Eight: Who is Dorothy After the party, the girls and Auntie Sara piled into the car and headed to a restaurant down the road for lunch. After entering the restaurant lobby, the hostess greeted them with, “Welcome to Main Street Diner. I love your princess costumes, girls, two kids menus with an adult?” Auntie Sara told her, “Yes, please.” “Please follow me, going to the Trunk ‘n Treat?” “Yes, Ma’am, we had a Girl Scout Halloween party in the morning, too,” Stacy answered the Hostess. Smiling, she said, “Your waitress will be Steph. I hope you enjoy your meal and get lots of candy at the Trunk ‘n Treat.” “Thank you, Ma’am,” Katie said while following Auntie’s instructions to crawl into the booth, with Stacy sitting next to her. “Ma’am, before you leave, can you bring me or have our waitress bring me at least two more of these napkins, please,” Auntie asked the hostess. “Sure, Ma’am.” Soon, the waitress returned with the requested napkins while the girls looked at their menus. Katie soon jumped when someone tucked a napkin into the neckline of her dress. Turning to look at the aisle behind her, she found Auntie doing the same thing to Stacy. After Auntie sat down again, she asked the girls, “What are you girls going to have?” “I will have the hamburger with iced tea, please, Mommie.” “Can I please have a grilled cheese with an iced tea, Auntie,” Katie asked while flipping her menu over to color the stuff on the back. After they had their lunch and paid, the small party decided to walk to the trunk ‘n treat a block down the street. Auntie made them stop at the trunk of the car, pulling out two personalized fabric pumpkins from it. Katie smiled and thanked her Auntie for hers as they walked the block. “Girls, you are to stay together and within the eyesight of me at all times. You should be no further from your best friend, that you are able to reach out and touch them always, you understand me?” “Yes, Mommie,” and “Yes, Auntie,” were the replies she received. “Katie, how far should you be from Stacy while at the Trunk ‘n Treat?” Auntie quizzed her niece. Katie answered, “Close enough to touch her without difficulty.” Auntie continued with, “Stacy, how far should you be from me?” “Close enough so you can see us without difficulty, Mommie,” Stacy answered as they turned into the parking lot where the Trunk ‘n Treat was happening. Almost immediately, the girls were going from car trunk to trunk to fill their pumpkins up with candy. Katie made sure to thank everyone for the candy, occasionally lightly poking her adoptive sister to induce a thank you out of her. Stacy took particular delight in the one time she got to poke Katie to remind her to say thank you, which rewarded her with a stuck-out tongue after the thanks. Both of the girls liked the decorations in the trunks. When they got to the corner, Stacy was going to continue walking, but her friend pointed out, “Sis if we continue walking, we will get out of view of Auntie. We better wait.” Stacy stopped walking to wait for her Mommie while Katie looked around at the various decorated trunks. One of the SUVs in the middle of the lane of cars seemed very familiar, causing her to ask her best friend, “Stacy, is that my Daddie’s Blue Escalade?” “It might be, but I don’t recognize Dorothy handing out candy in front of the trunk,” Stacy told her as they continued after Auntie caught up to them. Meanwhile, Katie was looking at Dorothy like she looked very familiar. Talking to herself out loud, she said, “Take the wig off her head. She looks like, nah, it can’t be.” As they continued down the aisle of open trunks, Stacy pointed out, “A scarecrow has shown up at the Escalade that might be your Daddie, Katie.” “If the scarecrow is my Daddie, who is the Dorothy, she looks like someone who should be in Mountain with a wig on, Stacy,” Katie replied. Looking back towards Dorothy as they headed to the next trunk a few cars down, it appeared that she was looking at them and waving at them. “Did Dorothy just wave at us, Katie?” Stacy asked with a shocked tone. “I think so. It must be her, but why is she here?” “Who is she?” Stacy asked as they went to the car cater-corner from the Escalade. “Allison, Kathleen’s roommate at college.” “Oh,” Stacy said, not knowing what to say as they continued on. Finally, they were at the Escalade, and both of them said, “Trick or Treat,” to Dorothy. “Here you go, Katie and Stacy,” Dorothy said while dropping a fun-size candy bar in each of the girls' pumpkins. “Thank you, Ally,” Katie said in thanks, lightly poking her sis to get thanks out of her. Stacy jumped and then, “Sorry, thank you, Ma’am.” “Why or how are you here, Ally?” Katie quizzed while her Daddie was busy talking to Auntie, who had caught up. “Your big sister was supposed to be here, but she has theatre commitments today, so she asked me to do it. I am having a blast, too,” Allison told her regressed roommate. “I like your costume, Ally. If I may call you that?” Stacy told her. “Thank you, I like it too. It is elegantly made, and yes, you may.” “Did my Auntie Jill make that?” Katie asked. Ally answered, “I am not sure. Tiff handed me the whole outfit, the red glittery shoes, and wig included,” as she handed some more candy out. Stacy and Katie were examining the dress as they were interrupted by Daddie. He said, “If you two want to finish getting candy, you better go now. I know Sara wants to make a stop at the photo area before they pack up for the day.” They skipped away after saying, “Yes, Daddie,” and “Yes, Uncle,” with giggles. Soon, they were done collecting candy, so they waited for Auntie to catch up. After she caught up with them, they were led to a line that led to the area, which was, according to the sign, a photo booth. Slowly, they snaked through the line until they were next in line. Looking at the booth, she could see there were some hay bales with blankets on top of them decorated with pumpkins, mums, ornamental grasses, and other fall items. A guy was posing the family in front of them and taking their pictures. When it was their turn, Auntie told the guy, “The girls, together and apart, please.” “You sure you don’t want a picture of all three of you?” “If I must, Sir,” She said with a smile. Soon, the guy was posing the little blended family, this way and that way, in between taking pictures. After they were done and Auntie had picked up the proof information, they headed back to Daddie’s Car. On the way there, Katie jumped a little as her bottom was discreetly squeezed by her Auntie. “I realize she doesn't match your theme, Adam, but I am going to leave your mostly dry daughter here while I take my daughter to the bathroom,” Auntie told Daddie. “Stacy, let me have your pumpkin, please, you too, Katie,” Daddie said, holding his hand out. After collecting both pumpkins, he placed them in the backseat of the car. Soon Stacy was back from the little girl's room, and Auntie was telling her, “You are going to stay with Uncle Adam. He will bring you to Church tomorrow. It is your father’s and mine date night, Stacy.” Rolling her eyes, Stacy asked, “My stuff is already at Uncle’s house?” Seeing a nod of affirmation, she continued with, “Bye, Mommie.” “Bye, Auntie,” Katie said in between handing out candies. After the trunk ‘n treat event was over, Daddie closed the hatch and opened the three passenger doors for the girls. Katie instinctively went to the passenger side back seat, only to be beaten to it by Stacy. “I would like to sit in Katie’s location, please,” Stacy said. Katie just shrugged and went to the opposite side of the car while Daddie was saying, “You sure, sweetie,” to Stacy. “Yes, Uncle,” she said as Daddie was seat belting Katie in her booster seat, and shutting the door. Soon, he was helping Stacy into the car seat, “Stacy, please spread your legs so I can scrunch up your dress to get to the crotch strap,” he said as he put her arms through the shoulder straps. He paused in the middle for a quick moment to slap Katie’s hand for digging for candy in her pumpkin. After scrunching up the dress, he finished strapping his niece into the car seat’s five-point harness. Soon, they were on the road to home, with Daddie taking the chance to quiz Ally on her plans, “Are you staying overnight, or am I dropping you off at the college tonight?” he asked. “If you will have me and have a bed, I bought stuff for tomorrow, including Church.” “Do you have enough so I can make one trip to Mountain and take both of you on Monday morning?” Allison appeared to be thinking about that, “I think I do. What are the plans for tomorrow?” Daddies answered with, “Stacy’s parents are coming for dinner after church. Other than that, nothing really.” “Can I cook dinner for today and tomorrow? I like cooking but don’t get to do it at college,” Allison asked as they turned into the driveway. “Fine with me. I have bought a roast for tomorrow,” he said, pulling into the garage. Once they came to a stop, Katie undid her seatbelt, while Stacy was trying to figure out her harness. “Umm, Katie, how do you undo this harness?” Stacy asked. Katie tried her car door and, finding it wouldn’t open either, said, “You don’t. Daddie or Ally will have to release you with the key, and apparently, I don’t get to open my door either.” “Oh,” was all Stacy said as Ally opened the door and stuck the key in the harness, releasing the trapped girl. Meanwhile, Daddie was opening Katie’s door and helping her out. “The child locks have been on the doors since day one. Today was the only opportunity you had to try them,” he told her as she was helped out of the car. “If it would be helpful, Sir, I will get the girls out of their costumes while you change,” Ally suggested. “And cook dinner, too? If you insist, I was just going to put them in their PJs early, Stacy’s bag is in the Parlour,” he replied. Ally unbuttoned the girls' dresses and told them to head upstairs and to strip and remove their wigs, too, in the process. She said she would be upstairs soon to help them. With the instructions delivered, she stuck her head into the freezer to see what was available. She walked into Katie’s bedroom after following the sound of young voices. She found Katie trying to reach a hanger in the closet and Stacy working on removing her wig. Taking two hangers from the closet, she handed Katie one and hung Stacy’s costume up. Handing Stacy a hooded bath towel that was hanging from Katie’s door, she instructed her to go use the bathroom. “Ok, little girl, time to deal with that soaked diaper on you. Lay down on the trundle bed, please, after I place this changing mat on it,” Ally told Katie. As she was finishing up with Katie’s padding, she asked her regressed roommate, “Who hasn’t changed your diaper?” “Stacy, myself, mine, and Stacy’s fathers, and until today, my roommate,” Katie said, sticking her tongue out as Stacy returned back to the room. “And your roommate has been looking forward to doing that to you for a while,” Ally said, causing Katie to blush fire-engine red. Digging a one-piece footed jammie out of Katie’s drawers and another one out of Stacy’s bag, she handed them to the girls. “Please put these on and wait for me in the turret while I get this costume off,” she told the girls. After about ten minutes, Ally came back to where the girls were quietly talking in the turret and started to attack Katie’s face with a wet wipe. After about three wipes, she turned to clean the makeup off Stacy’s face. “Where are the bathroom and washcloths?” she asked the girls before leaving the room. Ally soon returned with a damp washcloth and continued scrubbing the girls’ faces. “You two go downstairs and watch TV while I cook dinner. The chicken should be defrosted by now,” she told them as she led them out of the room. The two girls went downstairs to find Daddie watching football on the telly in his pajamas, causing Katie to roll her eyes. She was leading her friend towards the den to watch television in there when he said, “Katie Ann, sweetie you have mail.” He handed her a Highlights Magazine, a Disney Princesses Magazine, and an American Girl catalog, which got a smile out of both girls. The girls soon settled down to watch Nickelodeon and read highlights. ~o~O~o~ After an excellent dinner of chicken on a bed of rice, all four of them were playing a game of Trivial Pursuit - Family Edition in the dining room. Allison had just asked Stacy a green question about what fruit is dried to make raisins. After they gave the correct answer, Allison took the opportunity to ask Adam a question she had, “Adam, where do you want the Dorothy costume?” “Better ask Tiffany that question. It is hers. She made it, too, as far as I know. It is my understanding that she likes to make the most of her costumes. Where is it currently hanging?” he said. “Same place Stacy’s costume is hanging, on the back of Katie’s door,” Ally continued as Katie took her turn. “For a green wedge, please answer this question: Is your appendix on the right side of your body true or false?” Stacy quizzed her best friend. “True?” The regressed girl answered questionably. After winning her wedge, Katie finally caught up with Stacy. Allison was winning with five wedgies, the girls had four each, and Daddie was trailing with two. Katie preferred questions from Stacy because she thought that the questions that Allison and Daddie asked her were more difficult, almost like they were asking her the adult questions. A few questions later, Stacy had five wedges, and Allison had all her wedges. Stacy was in a rush to get her six wedges before Ally made it back to the center to win the game. “Ally, for the win, please answer which country has only one timezone - Russia, Australia, or China?” Katie quizzed her roommate. “Australia?” Ally answered. “Sorry that was wrong, the correct answer was China,” Katie replied, with a suspicious look on her face, since she thought Ally answered that wrong on purpose. “For your last wedge, Stacy, please answer, how many basic positions are there in ballet?” Daddie asked Stacy. “Five?” Stacy replied after thinking for a bit. “Correct, roll again,” Daddie told her as he handed her an orange wedge. Katie looked even more suspicious at Ally when she got her next winning question wrong, too, almost as if she was trying to prolong the game to give Stacy a chance to win. Daddie looked at the time and said, “Someone better win this soon. It is just after nine P.M. Two girls got to be in bed in about twenty minutes.” When the nail-biting game was finally won by Ally, Katie had five wedges, Stacy had all six and was one space from the center, and Daddie was trailing behind with three. “Allison, the guest room next to Katie’s is made up for you. I am going to tuck the girls in,” Daddie said. “I will gladly do that if you don’t mind,” Ally said. “Fine with me, make sure they brush their teeth, Katie is dry, and Stacy uses the bathroom,” he instructed all three of them. “I will clean up this mess,” he continued. After she marched them upstairs and they did their bathroom duties, she put a dry diaper on her regressed roommate. Pulling back both covers, she waited until the girls crawled in bed and trundle bed. After tucking them in, she started to read them a picture book from the many books spread around Katie's room.

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.”

What a great experience, I am thrilled you were able experience the freedom of diapers

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.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne Proofread by Jamie M ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Twenty-Four: Can We Borrow Later the same day, the girls were sitting around the common room. Some were doing homework while watching the television. Katie Ann, who had followed Daddie’s instructions as usual on weekends, did her homework Friday, so she had her ever-present book, which was still ‘On the Banks of Plum Creek.’ Claire asked, “Anyone have any Halloween plans?” “There is an annual Halloween event in Mountain, but it is more aimed at children, and where are we going to get one of those?” Holly, who is from Mountain, pointed out. Tiff’s head shot up. She looked at Katie Ann, who was still using her as a pillow and said, “Girls!” while pointing at the regressed teenager. Katie Ann could only blush. Claire asked, “Where are we going to get a costume for her? We are not exactly made out of money, and most of the good ones are probably gone.” Tiff remembered what outfits Katie told her the little girl wore the first time she met Owner. She just stared at Katie and slowly said, “Yeah, where are we going to get a costume,” before dragging Katie into Tiff’s room. The rest of the girls, clueless, could just stare at the now-closed door. Tiff grilled Katie Ann once the door was closed, “You wore a cat and a rag doll the first weekend you saw Adam. Both of those would be great costumes.” “Raggedy Ann, maybe, but I am not wearing the cat as a child. You don’t want to know where its tail goes. I also have a princess costume I got last month.” Katie Ann told her. Tiff pleaded with Katie to text, call, or message Adam to borrow an outfit for the event. Katie Ann pulled her phone out and called Daddie. After he picked it up, she said, “Hello, Daddie.” “You start to miss me already? I just dropped you off a few hours ago.” “The girls want to take a child to a Halloween event. Me!’ “I have a feeling this involves me somehow?” “Tiffany wants me to ask to borrow Raggedy Ann or the princess costume for the event.” “Is Tiffany there?” he asked, hearing a voice of affirmation, continuing, “hand the phone to her.” “Hi?” Tiffany meekly said as if she was talking to a great person. After verifying that Tiffany had a car, Daddie continued with, “You are welcome to come now to pick up a costume. I will even feed you. See if any of your cluster mates want to come, too. She should have shoes that work in her dorm room that will work for both. But you will have to pick up matching tights for her.” Tiffany thanked him for the offer and said she would have Katie tell him how many to expect. “Oh, Tiffany, one more thing.” “Yes?” “Katie Ann really needs a booster seat to ride in a car. Please stop on the way to pick one up, and I will reimburse you.” “Will do, see you later,” Tiffany said as she hung up the phone and handed it to Katie Ann. After leading Katie by the hand back into the common room, Tiff addressed the cluster as a whole, “The two of us are going to pick up a costume for Katie Ann. Does anyone want to join us? There are two more seats in the car. Free food had been offered.” Most of the gathered people said they had homework that must be done, but Allison jumped at the chance for free food and to really meet this person her roommate disappeared with every two weeks. Taking the phone from her bib pocket, she called Daddie and was going to tell him the requested information, but she didn’t get the chance. Tiffany, after taking the phone from her, did the talking for her, telling him two chicken meals after inquiring with Allison. The adoptive sisters left the dorm hand in hand, with Allison following behind them. Soon, they were by Tiff’s Neon. Katie was helped in the backseat, and then the bigger sister seatbelted her in, noticing that the shoulder strap went across the bottom of her sister’s chin. Katie expertly grabbed the shoulder strap and put it under her armpit to move it across her chest. Tiffany could only think that girl had done that a few times. Soon, the little girl was back in her library book to pass the time. They weren’t on the road a long time before Tiffany stopped at Target. Katie just looked confused. Allison had a knowing smile since she had been informed of the required stop. After telling the car that she would be back, Tiffany ran into the baby section. She looked at the selection in front of her. She really wanted to grab a five-point like she knew Adam had, but he had said booster. Taking a pink booster in the box, she paid for it with cash and made sure to keep the $32.81 receipt. Coming to the car, she opened Katie’s car door and helped her out. Noticing the booster, the little sister blushed. Now, on the booster, Tiffany noticed that the seat belt hit on her sister’s shoulder, not the chin anymore. Soon, they were back on the road, and Katie was back engrossed in her book. After they pulled into the driveway, Allison expressed, “DAMN, look at the size of this brick house,” which caused Tiffany to nod and the little girl in the back seat to just blush. Tiffany helped her sister out of the backseat, and all the girls went to the door. Katie tested the door handle, finding it unlocked. She just opened the door and went into the house as if she owned it. “Daddie, we are here,” she screamed. “Inside voice, Buttercup, in your bedroom,” came a disembodied voice from the stairs. The little regressed girl led the little group to her bedroom. Her two cluster mates went “Aww” after walking into the room. She noticed that Daddie had the rag doll and the princess costumes lying on her dollhouse bed when they walked into the room. Tiff mentioned while looking around, “Your room is adorable, sis. Oh, and you have a turret room, too. Everything is dollhouse themed, and the bottom half of the walls match, too.” Meanwhile, Ally was looking at the costumes on the bed and mentioned, “Does it matter which outfit we pick from her?” Tiff pointed out that there will be quite a lot of princesses at the event. Probably, the ragdoll will be a rarer costume there. Ally, on the other hand, pointed out the princess costume was cuter. While the two older girls, at least in physical appearance, discussed the costumes, Katie was just rocking on her rocking chair, hugging one of her stuffed animals. Once her sister won the debate with the rag doll outfit, the little group started to head downstairs for the promised food. Ally asked as they were leaving the room, “What is that padded table for, Mr. Olsen?” That question caused Tiff to start giggling out loud. Katie Ann's face had also turned red in response as Daddie squeezed the little girl's bottom. He told them, “Call me Adam, Allison, and it feels like I need to show you what that table is for right now anyway.” With that said, he picked up the little girl and strapped his daughter down. As he was getting the supplies out, Tiff asked if she could change her sister's bottom. The request caused the little girl’s face to get bright red again. After the bottom was changed, Adam let the regressed girl down, and the little group went downstairs to the parlour. As Katie was entertaining her college friends, the doorbell rang. She was told to answer it because he was busy in the kitchen. She answered it to find Stacy standing there, with an open mouth, to find her opening the door. “Hi, Sis, you missed me already?” Katie said to Stacy. Stacy shuddered, “What are you doing back here? Didn't Uncle Adam take you back to college already? I have an invitation that I am supposed to give to Uncle,” as she walked into the parlour. “I was taken back to college. I came back with my roommate and my big sister, not to be confused with my twin sister,” Katie answered while pointing out her college mates and giving their names. “You're still in the same clothes? You didn’t grow up, sis?” “Stac, I never change ‘til bedtime after I get back to college. Besides, I am not sure I am grown up right now. Tiff, how old am I right now?” “Seven, of course, little sister,” Tiff responded with a smirk. Daddie walked into the room, saying dinner was done and asking who was at the door. He addressed Stacy when he saw her standing there, “Hello Stacy, did you notice Katie was back and stopped by to say hi to your sister?” “No, I didn’t know she was here ‘til she opened the door. I have an invitation that Mommie says that I am to hand to you,” handing the paper to him. Daddie read the invitation and told her that Katie Ann would be there. After saying goodbye to her sister’s college mates and giving her sister a hug, she went back to her home. Daddie asked Tiff to help Katie into her high chair and for her to make sure the little girl was strapped in. After the little group was sitting around the table, Katie asked, “What is the invitation for, Daddie?” “Normally, I would refuse to provide that information, but I am sure your friends want to know too. You are invited to a Brownies event the next time you are here, Princess,” Daddie told them, as he sat plates of chicken and rice in front of each person, with his daughter’s plate set on her tray being a smaller portion. After the meal was done, Tiffany decided they had to head back to Mountain if Katie was going to make her bedtime in time. As they were walking to the car with the costume in hand, Daddie asked, “Tiffany, do you have a receipt for me?” Tiff handed him the receipt and received two twenties in return, and try as she might, she couldn’t get him to accept any change. She requested, “What do I do with the booster when we get back to college?” “It is Katie’s. I am sure she will need it again sometime,” he told her. Soon, the little Neon was headed southward towards Mountain, with the passenger in the backseat drifting asleep because of the darkness outside. Chapter Twenty-Five: Costume Winner Next Saturday saw a hive of activity in the cluster after an early dinner, with a majority of the girls getting ready for a Halloween party. Tiffany, in a Strawberry Shortcake costume, came across the cluster to see if Katie was ready in her rag doll costume that she had given her after they got back from dinner. She found her sister in the costume reading a book in the cluster, so she asked her, “What are you reading? Raggedy Ann?” “Macbeth for Literature, there is a lot of stuff I would rather read than Shakespeare,” Katie answered. “Let’s finish getting you dressed. So, the cluster can bring our star attraction to the event,” Tiff said as she was buttoning up the back of the costume. She continued by tying the sash for the pinafore before leading Katie to her room. Taking off the wig that was sitting loosely on the rag doll’s hair, she started to french braid the hair before pinning the tails out of the way. Tiff then attached the wig back to Katie’s hair before painting a face on her face. After she was helped up, she felt Tiff pat her bottom. “Are you going to be okay with not being padded? We don’t have any of them here,” Tiff asked. “The pull-ups will do,” Katie answered. With that discussion done, the two sisters headed back into the cluster where the rest of the group that was going was waiting. Tiff addressed the rest of the group, “Girls, remember Katie is seven today.” Claire, who was dressed up as a scarecrow, mumbled what she thought was quietly to herself, “Was she ever college age?” The group responded with voices of "good question," causing Claire to jump in surprise that her rhetorical question was heard. Tiffany, after taking Katie’s hand, said: “Lead on to the event, Holly.” With that cue, the little costumed group headed towards downtown Mountain. After they got to the town hall, Holly spoke to the person at the door, “9 adults and one child.” “How old is she?” “I believe seven.” “You want to enter her in the costume contest?” Holly looked at Tiff and got a nod of affirmative, so she responded with yes. “Nine fifty for admission and two fifty for the contest. I will need someone to fill out the forms for the young girl.” After Holly paid for the lot to enter, she was handed a stack of papers for the contest, which she gave to Tiff. The other eight, including Holly, entered the event to enjoy what little there was for adults. Tiff started to fill out a form that was in the papers that she got, occasionally looking at Katie while going hmm. After handing the form back to the lady at the door, she pinned a number to her little sister’s behind. “She is yours?” the lady asked Tiff. “She is my little sister,” which caused Katie to nod silently. “Let me see your ID. We need to fill out…” the lady paused and looked at the contest form, “... Katie’s security ID band.” After the lady was done, she handed the ID and a paper wristband back to Tiff. She instructed, “Put the band on her wrist. You will have to show that ID for her to leave this building. The costume parade and judging starts over there in about twenty minutes. I recommend dropping her off soon.” The lady pointed to the far corner where most of the kids were standing. After Tiffany put the paper band on Katie, the two headed towards the start of the parade. The ragdoll was checked in for the second-grade category, and she was told to stand where some other kids who looked to be around seven years old. After her big sister left, Katie just looked around the large event hall. There was a bouncy castle near her and a few carnival games next to it. She could see other activities spread around the hall. A girl standing next to her dressed as Alice interrupted her thoughts, “I like your outfit, Raggedy Ann. I am Laura.” “Thank you, Laura. I am Katie. You have a nice costume, too.” “It isn’t homemade like yours, you don’t go to my school, where do you go?” “Clearwater Elementary, I am here visiting my sister this weekend.” “Why is she here? Shouldn’t she be in Clearwater, too?” “She goes to Mountain College.” “Oh, makes sense, was she Strawberry Shortcake?” “Yes, she was. Oh, the younger kids are starting, Laura.” By the time the parade got to the second graders, Katie and Laura were becoming good friends. The parade snaked around the hall. As they went by one area, she heard a voice say, “Katie!” Turning towards the voice, she saw her cluster mates standing together in between camera flashes. “Who are those people with your sister?” Laura asked. “Her dorm mates,” Katie pointed out. They went a little further, and Laura’s name was shouted. Turning to the voice, it appeared that it was Laura’s parents with the required camera. She asked her new friend, “Your parents?” “Yes, my mama and papa.” Soon, they were at the judging stand. A lady said her number out loud, and she was asked to make a slow spin and then continue on with the parade. After the parade was over, Laura dragged Katie to the carnival games. As she was dragged by Tiffany, she just waved at her sister and followed her new friend to the games. After the two girls had their fun at the games, winning candy along the way, Katie was the one leading towards the bouncy castle this time. After they were done in the castle, Laura wanted to try bobbing for apples. “I will mess up my makeup if I do that. I will gladly watch, though,” the ragdoll pointed out. So that is precisely what the two girls did, with Katie giggling at Laura's attempts to get an apple. The regressed got lapped when the other girl finally got one, earning more candy for her attempt. After handing her new friend a towel to dry her face, the regressed girl led her new friend towards a bunch of donuts hanging on strings. She asked the lady staffing the game table, “What is the object of this game, Ma’am?” “To be the first to eat all your donut without any bits dropping to the floor with no hands.” Looking at Laura and getting a nod, she said, “We'd like to play it, Ma’am.” The lady had the two girls each stand under a hanging donut and adjusted the donut's height so the girls would have to stand on their toes to reach the top of the donut. She then took another ribbon and loosely tied the girls' hands behind their backs. After they were told to go, the two girls slowly but surely ate their donuts, with it being neck and neck between Laura and Katie. Laura actually won because the last sliver of Katie’s won the war with gravity and hit the floor. After undoing the ribbons around their wrists, Katie was handed a small bag of candy, and Laura was handed a larger bag. As they were heading to what looked like a tug of war, they heard from the loudspeaker, “I hope everyone had fun today. If the Boys and Girls can find their parents and gather around the stage, we will award the prizes earned today.” Katie and Laura headed towards the stage, finding Tiffany and her fellow cluster mates conveniently standing next to Laura’s parents as if they were discussing the two young girls. After handing her small collection of candy to Tiff, she continued talking to Laura, specifically the American Girl dolls discussion they started right before the donut contest. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Girls and Boys, may I have your attention,” a lady on the stage said into the mic. “We will start with the Baby category and progress up the ages to the Teenager category. Please stay around to the end for best of show and a few other prizes.” “Without further ado, let me present the third place for the baby - store-bought category, David Smith,” the lady continued. A lady carrying a small baby dressed as Dumbo walked up to the stage to connect the prize. “In second place, we have Ally Arthur.” Katie just tuned out the rest and continued her discussion with Laura. The two girls were busy quietly discussing whatever came to their mind when Katie felt someone kicking the back of her shoes. Someone must have got Laura's attention, too, because she jumped and turned to look at her parents. “In the best of first-grade category, we have Emily Kamp, with her Butterfly costume.” A young girl dressed as a butterfly came up to pick up her prize. “In our second grade - store-bought category in third place, we have Laura Schneider with her Alice costume.” Katie pushed her shocked friend towards the stage. After the prize was grabbed, the announcer continued with second place and first place for the second-grade store-bought category. “In our second grade - homemade category in third place, we have Katie Tee-gee-hoof in her Raggedy Ann costume,” the announcer said. Katie just rolled her eyes at the butchering of her last name. She headed to the stage to get an envelope and a third-place ribbon handed to her. The lady whispered to her as she was handing it to her, “Make sure you stay to the end prizes.” Handing the items to Tiff as she was getting a hug from her big sister, the two little girls continued to talk quietly as more prizes were handed out since they figured that as third place, they wouldn’t win a best-of-category award. “That concludes our categories. The next ten prizes were open to all children in the contest. We will start with our furthest-away prize. Usually, this prize requires us to get a map of the county to decide what address is further away, but not this year. The winner this year is from over an hour away from Clearwater. We have Katie Tee-gee-hoof,” the announcer said to a thunder of applause. Katie, busy in a discussion about Disney Princesses, missed her butchered name, but Tiffany had not. The older girl pushed her little sister towards the aisle. Blinking from the shock of finding herself in the aisle, she walked towards the stage to receive another envelope and a small plaque. They went on to award the youngest, oldest, most creative, funniest, scariest, most complicated, laziest, punniest, and best of show. Laura and Katie didn’t win any of those prizes. Katie was happy with the two prizes she won. She would have been happy with not winning a prize, too. “Thank you for taking part in our annual children’s Halloween contest and festival. We hope you all had a fun time. Can I have applause for all our games volunteers,” she paused for a moment before continuing, “and applause for all our contestants in our contest? ” That last bit got equally loud applause as the first applause. “Goodnight, everyone,” the lady concluded. After the two girls hugged goodbye, the nine college students led a tired little girl back to the dorm. Tiffany did have to check Katie out of the hall at one of the cops checking IDs and children’s wristbands before they could properly head to the dorm. Once back at the dorm, Tiffany took charge and got Katie ready for bed. She scrubbed her little sister's face first. It was well past ten by the time the regressed girl was tucked in her bed. ~o~O~o~ Sunday evening, while getting dinner at the food court, Katie was stopped by one of the cooks who looked very familiar. “I thought that was you, Katie … Laura enjoyed spending time with you at the Halloween event,” the cook said. She got a lump in her throat, realizing that if Laura’s mother worked in the food hall, she had seen her multiple times. The cook had to already know that the regressed girl was a college student. Slowly, she composed her statement, “Thank you, am I in trouble, Mrs. Schneider?” “No, from what I saw yesterday and previous times in this dining hall, I’m not sure if you are a college student. Your appearance today wouldn’t give anyone questions if I told them that you are seven. You appear outward as a school-age girl while getting a college education. Also, your good manners could rub off on Laura next time you two are together.” “Next time?!?!” “You don’t want to see your new friend again?” “I didn’t say that, Ma’am. A return visit would require a backstory as to why I am back in town instead of at the elementary school that I technically haven’t gone to for longer than my supposedly seven years of age.” “There is always being honest,” Mrs. Schneider suggested. “That I am both seven and nineteen?” “Is that how you see yourself?” “I feel more like seven years old than the nineteen that I really am, except when I am in class or doing homework.” “I will let her know I saw you, and you are still a cutie out of costume. I will let you get back to your dinner.” With a red face, Katie said, “Thank you, Ma’am.” After taking her tray of food to her cluster table, the girls started to grill the regressed girl. “Was that Laura’s Mother you were talking to Katie?” Holly asked. After giving a nod of affirmation, Katie was quizzed by her big sister if that was going to cause a problem. “I'm not sure. She didn’t seem upset. She did want to set up a playdate with Laura.” Tiffany just giggled, “You are going to have a nice collection of friends your age with Stacy and Laura.” Blushing, Katie just nodded and dug into her food.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne Proofread by Jamie M ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Twenty-Three: Fastest Prize The following day, the two girls were woken up bright and early by Auntie tickling both of them. Sleep still in their eyes, they went downstairs. Again, like a sloth, to the table for breakfast. A bowl of cereal and some orange juice was set in front of each of the girls, and Katie was handed her pill. After breakfast was done, they were sent back upstairs to change. Auntie followed them to help the regressed girl with her bottom and help the girls get their dresses over their heads in the Curlformers. Stacy worked on putting the supplied white tights on while her friend's bottom was changed. Soon, Auntie helped the girls put a full petticoat over their huge heads, and Katie was putting her tights on while Auntie was busy with Stacy. Turning to the closet in the room, Auntie pulled out, what looked like to the regressed girl, brand new, matching dresses, except one was trimmed in pink, the other in light purple. Taking the pink one out of the clear dress shopping bag and removing the tags, she put it on Katie, then did the same with the other one with Stacy. After buttoning each of them up, she patted each of them on the bottom and told them to get downstairs so that she could work on their heads. Auntie started on Katie's head first, removing the bonnet, before removing the tubes, exposing a head of curly hair. After spraying the girl's head with a nice dose of hairspray, she tied a large pink bow in her niece's hair. She was soon repeating the same stuff with her daughter's head. Soon, Stacy spotted a bow that matched her dress. As Auntie was heading upstairs to join her husband in getting ready for church, Katie asked if and when she would see her Daddie. "He is meeting us at church, sweetie," was offered in reply. The two girls played quietly till it was time to leave for church. Auntie got out of the closet identical white knitted cardigan sweaters for both of the girls to put on. The little blended family then proceeded to head to the car to go to church. At the church, the girls and Auntie were dropped off before Stacy's father parked the car. As Katie walked into the church, she saw her Daddie standing around chatting with other church members with a cup of coffee in his hand. When he noticed her standing patiently by his side, he addressed her, "Hello Princess, did you have fun yesterday?" As he was chatting with her, he was helping her out of her cardigan. Katie started to excitedly tell him about her fun the previous day. When she was done describing her day, she was sent to keep herself occupied with Stacy. Soon, Daddie was ushering both the girls towards the Sanctuary, towards a pew that already had Auntie and Stacy's father in it. Later, after they were released to the children's church, Katie was happy that she was learning the way toward her Sunday classroom. When the small group of young grade school kids got to the classroom, they wondered why the teacher had a package of toilet paper on the table. Heather, who hadn't yet seen the two girls today, asked the matching girls, "Are you sure you two aren't two sisters?" Stacy gritted her teeth from laughing out loud because of being called a twin of her friend, who was actually over a decade older than her. Katie just shrugged and said, "Quite sure, though she makes an excellent sister," finishing with a smile towards Stacy. After sitting next to Stacy, Katie was handed a Halloween-themed coloring sheet. After a short Bible lesson, the children were asked to form groups of three. Stacy and Katie ended up in a group with another girl, whose name was Jennie. Each group was handed two rolls of TP and told to pick one person to be the mummy, and they had five minutes to wrap them with TP. Before it was even over, Jennie, who was the smallest of the three, was wearing both of the rolls. As the first ones being done, they won one of the candy prize categories. After they cleaned up the mess from the game, the children had a small snack before being released from the classroom. Katie led her friend back to their parents in the common room, where they were found with coffee cups in their hands, chatting to other members. Katie Ann let her Daddie know she was out of Sunday School before joining her friend on the bench to chat quietly. Soon, Daddie was escorting the two girls to the parking lot and dropping off Stacy at her parents' car. After strapping Katie in her seat, he started driving towards what she thought was home since she couldn't see her stuff in the back. Once they were home, they went up to Katie's room to change her into casual clothes. Once her bottom was dry, she was changed into a white long-sleeve dress. The dress had an attached black skirt and a black cat climbing out of a jack-o'lantern on the front of it. She then put on the black leggings Daddie had given her, and her socks and princess tennis shoes, while Daddie changed his clothes himself. She sat down on her bed to wait for him to finish while she looked around her room to kill her boredom. Something didn't look right. Something was different. Finally, it hit her. A giant teddy bear was looking at her from one of the turret window seats. Walking over to inspect it, she realized that it would be taller than her if it were standing. As she was looking at it, Daddie asked her, "Do you want to be inside that teddy bear again, Buttercup?" Realizing that was why it was larger than her, her face turned bright red, and she shook her head and said, "Not today, Daddie." "Good, the Bullards are expecting us for dinner," Daddie mentioned as he changed her bow to an orange bow before he led her next door for dinner. During the dinner, the girls were asked if they were ready to carve their pumpkins after dinner. That question caused the group to be rewarded with two excited girls. After Stacy's Daddie had cleaned out the insides of both pumpkins after dinner, the girls, with a painting smock on to protect their clothes, were handed a kid-safe pumpkin carver. They were told to have fun carving their pumpkin. Katie decided to go with a traditional face on the pumpkin, especially after she tried to make the first cut. She jokingly tried asking for a real knife, but both her Daddie, who was supervising her, and Auntie, who was supervising Stacy, refused to provide one. Stacy's Daddie, on the other hand, behind the camera, just chuckled at the two girl's struggles. After the pumpkin carving was done, it was time for Katie to get back to college. The two girls hugged goodbye, and Daddie carried her pumpkin home and set it next to the front door. Daddie led her to the Escalade. Then Daddie helped her in her child seat in the car before strapping her in with the five-point harness. She strained to watch him go to the house and get her stuff out of the house and put them in the back. Sick of having a crick in her neck, she turned to the ever-present bag of activities next to her and saw that the latest Disney Princess magazine was in it. She grabbed it and a crayon, and got comfortable for the hour or so ride to college. She briefly looked up from the story she was reading in it to notice they were on the move. Before long, Daddie was parking his Escalade in front of her dorm before coming over to let her out of her child's seat. Helping her out of the vehicle, they went to the hatch. He handed her the homework bag while he took her clean laundry and set her car bag that he was holding on top of it before closing the back. Together, they walked up the stairs to the third floor before walking into the cluster. Katie Ann tried her door, and she found it locked. While she was digging her keys out of her bag, Tiff greeted her with, "Hello, little sister," while smiling at her hair in curls and an orange bow. Katie Ann smiled back at Tiff while struggling to unlock her door. After she finally got her door open, she let her Daddie in first before following him. He had put her laundry basket on her bed, and she set the heavy backpack next to it. Bending down to hug the little girl, Daddie told her, "See you in two weeks. You will also spend Halloween with me." Nodding, she said, "See you in two weeks." Watching him depart, she set to work putting her laundry and a fresh supply of pull-ups away after setting the activities on her bed. Turning to her homework bag, she set that by her desk before digging out the library book from the bag on her bed. Seeing Tiff was in the common room, Katie leaned against her like she was a pillow before cracking open 'On the Banks of Plum Creek.' The older girl's reaction was to put her arm around the little girl. "Have an enjoyable time with your Daddie this weekend?" the ever-watchful big sister inquired. "Yes, Friday homework; I went with Stacy to a corn maze and picked out a pumpkin on Saturday, today church as usual," was the answer before she returned to her book.

Testing? They don't need no testing.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne Proofread by Jamie M ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Twenty: I Am Not Stupid Mrs. Bullard repeated herself, “I am not stupid. She isn’t your daughter. Remember, Adam, I have known you since grade school.” Breathing, she continued, “Eight years ago, when Katie would have been conceived, you would have been sixteen or seventeen. You were dating my sister at that time.” Katie Ann just looked down at her feet, not knowing what to do in this situation. She was supposed to be a doll, so she was not to move or talk. She didn’t have any input in the case. She also hoped in her mind that the dating Mrs. Bullard was talking about was in the past. Sara Bullard continued, “She is not my niece. I also have never pegged you, Adam, for the cheating type. Also, up ’til the middle of the summer, you had Heidi regularly coming over on the weekends. You were not exactly secretive about what you did with her. I don’t try to be nosy, but you don’t shut your curtains. Suddenly, she stopped coming, and Katie showed up a few months later, who, according to this room, is probably wearing the same stuff,” as she patted the little girl on the bottom. “Yep, she is.” “I hardly doubt that you would force an actual child to wear diapers. So unless she is incontinent, she probably isn’t really seven. She looks believable but a little tall,” she said. She turned to Katie Ann, and she said, “Who are you, and how old are you?” Sighing, Owner said, “She is...” Sara said, “No, I want her to answer.” Sighing again, he said, “Kathleen, you can talk and move.” Sighing, Katie answered, “I am Kathleen or Katie Ann Telgenhof. When I am not willingly a young seven-year-old, I am a nineteen-year-old college student.” “And he isn’t forcing you to be young, is he? You apparently put on a good show, or at least when you are around Stacy. Every other word out her mouth is Katie this, Katie that,” She continued. “I came into this relationship as a submissive. Daddie or Owner decides what I am going to be. He usually treats me as a seven-year-old, with a hint of toddler thrown in the mix in private. I do enjoy being a child because I have the most freedom.” Katie started sadly because she figured she was probably going to lose her friend. She continued, “It used to upset me when people treated me like a child because I was trying to be an adult and failing at it. But in my child persona, my life just feels right. And people don’t look down at me as a child.” Sara, noticing that this was hard for Katie, was rubbing the rag doll's back. She asked both of them, “Since you both are technically adults, is this a sexual relationship?” Katie said, “Nope, I am under contract to him, and no sex is in it. For that matter, no abuse of any kind is in it, too.” “What is she wearing on her chest? It feels strange,” Sara asked. The doll answered, “A binder. It makes my AA chest flat,” as Adam threw a binder from the dresser to Sara. Katie, figuring out where this conversation was going spoke, “I will avoid spending time around Stacy. I won’t go with her to Sunday school tomorrow.” Daddie told her, “That won’t be a problem, Katie Ann, you won’t go back to church.” Sara interrupted, “Neither of you will do either of those things. Stacy will still escort you,” pointing at Katie, “to the first and second-grade Sunday school class. Adam, you will still take your daughter to church on Sundays when she is here. I didn’t come here to break the two girls up. Katie and Stacy appear to be good friends and are having fun together. Adam, you will still be Stacy’s occasional babysitter, too. Nothing will change between our two houses except that the truth will be known. The status quo will remain. What were your plans for tomorrow, Adam, before I stopped by?” “Take her to church and then back to college after she puts casual clothes on,” he said. “Your plans for tomorrow are now, no ifs or buts about it, taking her to church. You then will come directly to my house to have dinner. Then you can take her to college later.” The neighbor lady said in an authoritarian tone. Daddie and Katie just shrugged at each other. As Mrs. Bullard was getting ready to leave the room, Katie asked, “So I can still be friends with Stacy?” Coming back to Katie, Sara patted her on the head and told her, “Yes, you may. Stacy would kill me if I kept you two apart. Though someone needs to tell her the truth, leave that up to me.” “How will I know when Stacy knows?” Katie inquired. “She will tell you when she knows,” Sara told the worrisome little girl as she walked out of the room, with Adam following her. He came back into the room and, after picking her up, said, “I am too emotionally tired to put your face on. You will sleep like that in my bed tonight, Buttercup,” as he carried her across the hall. ~o~O~o~ Walking into church the next day, Katie Ann, in a lovely Lavender dress and a matching bow on top of her braid, was attacked by what can only be described as tropical storm Stacy. Stacy grabbed her hand and told Daddie, “I am going to borrow Katie for a bit, Mr. Olsen.” He nodded yes at Stacy in response to the departing girls. Smiling, Stacy led Katie towards some other young girls, saying to the girls, “Becka, Heather, this is Katie, my neighbor.” The three girls started talking a mile a minute, with Katie occasionally putting her bit in but mostly just being shy. Stacy, seeing Katie was mostly quiet, asked her in a whisper, “Are you ok, Katie?” “I am shy, plus nervous about something,” Katie whispered back. Stacy whispered, “We will talk at my house about the nervous issue, but you weren’t shy two weeks ago.” Katie, with a slight tongue showing, said, “You didn’t give me a chance to be shy two weeks ago!” Stacy said quietly, “Oh,” as her mother ushered both of the girls toward the sanctuary. Katie looked around for her Daddie and didn’t see him as she followed Stacy’s Mommie. They were led to a pew in the church, where she saw her Daddie and another guy waiting for them. It seemed to her that Mrs. Bullard purposely sat between the two young girls. After the preacher released the children, Katie followed Stacy toward the same classroom as last time. Once they got there, Katie counted ten to fifteen first and second-graders again. The only difference between this time and last time is the teacher personally greeted Katie as she entered the room. ~o~O~o~ Again, after Sunday school was over, Katie followed Stacy back to the common room, holding tight to her artwork. She was getting more nervous about what would happen at the Bullards. Stacy hadn’t mentioned knowing anything while they were in the church, but maybe that was by design. Stacy was definitely still her friend. She was more nervous about Mrs. Bullard. And who had that mystery guy been in the pew with them? Once they got back to the gathering room, she noticed her Daddie talking and drinking coffee again. She patiently waited for him to see her. When he did, she gave him her artwork. She then went to usurp a cookie and stand near Stacy, who was standing near the mystery guy. She tapped Stacy on the shoulder, causing her friend to jump in surprise. “Katie, you scared me, … oh, this is my Daddie, Daddie, this is Katie,” Stacy said. Mr. Bullard said to Katie, “I have heard all about you from my talkative daughter. It's nice to finally meet you.” Thinking to herself, Katie thought, “And probably from his wife.” She said out loud, “Thank you, sir.” “Daddie, can I ride with Mr. Olsen, or Katie ride with us?” Stacy asked. Mr. Bullard said, “You both need boosters; you two can be separated for the short time it takes to get home.” Stacy had a pout on her face, and she led Katie over to a bench to wait impatiently since it looked like the adults were going to talk for a while. The two girls quietly played tic tac toe in the velvet of the seat while they were waiting since they were bored. “Katie, Stacy, time to go, sweeties,” they heard Sara say. Katie got up and erased the evidence of their game. She went to where Daddie was standing. She was helped into her seat when they got to the car. After she was strapped in, he started driving, following the Bullards. Not that he needed directions, though, to his home. After Daddie had unstrapped her, she started walking away from the car. She hadn’t walked halfway between the houses when Stacy grabbed her hand, dragged her toward her parents, and asked, “Now, can I tell her?” “Yes, you may.” Looking at Katie, Stacy said, “I know you have two different ages, but I don’t care,” which got a smile out of the regressed girl. Continuing, she asked, “What school do you go to? You never told me?” “Mountain College,” was the answer Stacy received, as they were walking in the house. “No, no, that is where the older you goes. I can’t exactly tell my friends that. Where does my good friend, Katie, go?” “Oh, Clearwater Elementary in Clearwater, I live with my Mommie there. That is the answer I told the hairstylist,” Katie said, giggling with a smile. Stacy turned and looked at Daddie and asked, “Speaking about that, can I get my hair braided like Katie, Mr. Olsen, please?” “One or two braids?” Thinking about it, she answered, “Two, please.” “I need to run home before I can do that,” he said, turning to run home. He wasn’t gone long when he came back. To Katie, it looked like he had grabbed her diaper bag and a shopping bag. Taking the shopping bag, he sat on the couch and patted the seat next to him for Stacy to sit down at. Soon, she spotted two pigtails with white ribbons tickling her ears. “You two girls switch spots, please,” he said. Katie sat down in the spot and felt her Daddie undoing her hair before braiding it again in pigtails with ribbons tickling her ears, too. “Both of you sit very closely together, please,” he said. The two girls felt him messing with the braid close to the other girl; they weren’t sure what he was doing. Soon, Katie’s Daddie said, “Go show your Mommy in the kitchen, Stacy.” Stacy tried to get up to show her Mommie, only to have her head jerk back towards Katie. They discovered that Daddie had hair-banded the two girls' braids together. Slowly, the two girls got up and walked towards the kitchen. It caused the two guys to smile at their struggle. Walking into the kitchen, Sara greeted the girls with, “What do we have here?” “Daddie is mean!” Katie exclaimed in a pouty voice. “Let me separate you two so we can eat.” “No, let me get photo evidence first,” Mr. Bullard said with an evil chuckle. He had the girls stand in front of a wall and then took their picture a few times. He made sure the braid was in the picture before separating the two girls. Stacy led Katie to the table and made sure they were sitting together. Mrs. Bullard came behind the two girls and tucked a napkin in their necklines. “You both are wearing dress clothes. I know how messy you can be, Stacy, and Katie probably is too.” Katie looked at the plate and saw that it was already loaded with a kid-size portion of potatoes, brussels sprouts, and some tender-looking meat. She wasn’t thrilled about the sprouts, but Mrs. Bullard had been an excellent host, so she would eat it. They had Stacy say grace, and then everyone tucked in their food. The adults started conversing about the two girls, while the girls just stayed quiet and ate their food. “Where did you two go yesterday?” Mrs. Bullard asked. “The zoo,” Daddie answered. Mr. Bullard said, “‘I always liked ‘Hanna Valley.” “We didn’t go there. Someone would not have enjoyed that,” Daddie said, looking at Katie. Almost in unison, all the Bullards asked, “Why?” Stacy, in particular, was looking at her friend like she had grown a horn. Katie started to open her mouth, but Daddie continued, “The older her volunteers are there, so she wouldn’t have had a fun time. She would always be worried if someone would make the connection.” “Oh,” Stacy said while Mr. Bullard was looking at her like he just made a connection like he had seen her before. With that, the subject was changed, this time to older hers college and major. Katie went to try to answer those questions. She realized they didn’t want her answers; they wanted Daddie’s answers when they ignored her first answer. Soon, Mrs. Bullard was cleaning the plates off the table and setting apple pie in front of everyone. After the pie was done, the girls were excused to Stacy’s room. Stacy mentioned, “My room is not as cool as the room you have. I don’t have a turret. I used to love to sleep in that room when I stayed overnight with Mr. Olsen.” “Does he not watch you anymore?” “No, he still does occasionally, but it is no longer a guest room. It is your room now.” “I think he did redecorate it for me, but you are welcome to sleep in when I am gone. Heck, you are welcome to share the bed with me. We are small enough.” The girls sat down to play Guess Who quietly while the adults talked downstairs. Katie eventually realized that she had a problem, so she told Stacy, “I will be back. I have to deal with something.” She walked back downstairs, following the voices of the adults, and all conversation stopped when she entered the room. Looking at them, she asked, “What are you three discussing?” “You,” was the answer she got. “Oh,” and she turned to leave, sadly. “Did you need something, Princess?” Daddie asked. “Yes, I need a change,” she embarrassedly mumbled. Mrs. Bullard, having just barely heard it, said, “I will do it. Where is her diaper bag?” After being told where it was and getting it, Mrs. Bullard led Katie back up to Stacy’s room. After laying a pad down on Stacy’s bed to protect it, she asked Katie to lie down on it. Katie found it a little embarrassing to be changed by her friend’s mom while said friend watched. After the regressed girl was dry, she felt a pat on her bottom and was told, “You two continue playing nicely.” Soon, they heard, “Katie Ann, help Stacy clean up. It is time to go,” being yelled up the stairs by Daddie. After they cleaned up, they walked downstairs together. Katie was surprised to discover it was already after four o’clock. They had been there for over four hours. After she got hugs from all the Bullards, Daddie took her hand and led her to the car, strapping her car seat. She realized she was still in her dress clothes, so she said, “Daddie?” “Yes, Princess?” “Did I lose my tennis shoes?” “No, they are with your clean laundry in the back.” “Ok,” was her reply, as she grabbed the book from her car bag to occupy herself during the hour ride. After they got to the college, she was unstrapped, and after grabbing the items from the back, they went upstairs to the cluster, where they saw Tiffany pacing. It was as if she was impatiently waiting for something or someone to return. Setting her items on her bed, she hugged Daddie goodbye and told him, “See you in two weeks, Daddie.” She was putting her laundry away when Tiffany knocked on the door. After she let her in, she returned to putting her items away. Tiff spoke, “Little sister, you look cute. Your Sunday best?” “Yes, we went directly from church to the neighbor’s house, to college. I will need your or Ally’s help undoing the buttons in the back at bedtime. Have you eaten dinner yet? I am hungry?” she told Tiff as the pull-up packages were put away. Taking her hand, Tiff said, “Come on, little sis, let’s go get dinner. I can’t wait to show off the cutie pie you are.”

Chapter Twenty Nine John sat with Kate on the couch not moving or saying anything while Aunt Cat helped Amanda. The door to the bathroom was still open, and Agent Praefectus was standing just inside the the storm door. After only a couple of minutes they could hear the clicking of Xerxes nails on floor coming out of the bathroom, and Aunt Cat walked around the couch with a hair dryer and two towels. “Okay!” she declared “Johns Mommy is going to take a much needed shower and she needs a few minutes of quiet time. And I know two littles that are about to dry a dog! Doesn’t that sound exciting!” They both stared at her in disbelief for a moment. As it became obvious that she was quite serious, she walked to the wall by the window and plugged the cord of the hair dryer. She turned to the two littles on the couch and asked “Okay! Who wants to use the hair dryer while the other uses the towels?” John saw Kate flex briefly and then SPRING off of the couch holding up her hand “I’ve got the hair dryer, he has to use the towels!” Staring indignantly for a moment, John slid off the couch and grabbed a towel. He watched Kate grab the hair dryer with both hands and get it up onto her thigh. Aunt Cat lead Xerxes over and once Kate got the hair dryer turned on, the dog sat down and tried biting the air coming at his face. Aunt Cat immediately walked over to talk to Agent Praefectus and then he realized the genius of he plan. This way the two littles wouldn’t be able to hear what the ‘grown ups’ were talking about over the hair dryer. He was both frustrated about being excluded, and impressed at how subtle they were. With a deep breath, he grabbed a towel and spent a couple of minutes trying to scrub the dog, before just throwing one end over the dogs torso and grabbing both ends and pulling one and then the other, back and forth with all of his weight. They worked together, with Kate drying the dog’s legs and belly, and John struggling to get the top part. Every so often John would look over and he caught Aunt Cat and the ABI guy talking and writing things down. After some time he was gone, and Aunt Cat was carrying some blankets from the couch into the laundry room. Their job of drying the dog was going along very well. Until the dog rolled onto his back, pulling John on top of him by the towel he was holding. Face first into wet fur. John stood back up and looked indignant. Kate aimed the hair dryer at him, leaving him sputtering and flailing. Eventually they finished their task, and then John and Kate spent a moment laying on top of the dog, admiring how he smelt amazing and was soft like an excited squirmy cloud that kept trying to roll around on the floor. They both stopped climbing the dog as the bathroom door opened. All eyes were on Amanda as she came out. John could immediately see on her face that she wasn’t as stressed, but she looked drained. Clearly she has managed to de-stress a bit, but the days events had taken their toll. Abandoning anything else, John waddled around the couch and held up his arms to offer a hug. She leaned down and scooped him up into a hug and he was lifted into his usual spot high on her chest with his cheek against hers. Her cheek felt puffy against the side of his face. She’d been crying. So he turned his head and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He couldn’t do much, and he knew he could never have run out into the rain here to save someones life like she had just done. But trying to comfort her was what he could do. Deep in his chest he still didn’t like feeling in any way like a toddler. But for just this moment he was willing to comfort her in what ways that he had the power to. Besides, that little kiss on the cheek made her smile warmly. And right now that smile was worth a lot. He propped his head onto her shoulder and heard her whisper quietly into his ear “You don’t have to behave any way that you don’t want to. But thank you so very much. It’s past your bedtime, but would you like a cuddle?” Nodding into her neck a bit, he was rewarded with a pat on his booty. Then he felt himself being carried. But instead of turning around the couch, he felt himself being carried in a straight line and then saw the door frame and the taupe walls of his room. As he was pivoted down onto the changing table he said quietly “Hey wait. Betrayal.” and then out loud “Betrayal!” as the foam bars just flopped over his chest. “I am betrayed. Rupert, you must avenge me.” He could see her rolling her eyes and it was obvious that she wanted to laugh. “John, you know it’s bedtime.” He nodded. She continued “We don’t want any repeats of the other morning?” He shook his head vehemently. The memory of stains on her shirt from carrying him still haunting his memory. And finally she sighed “So you’re just being a goofy dork?” He held his left hand in the air, one finger pointed at the ceiling and declared “Yes!” He was rewarded for his efforts by her laughing as she shook her head and saying “Well, you’re MY dork.” as she tugged his shorts off. He let his hands fall completely limp into the wrist straps. He tried to pay attention to what her hands were doing below him as she unsnapped his onesie bottom. He had secretly tried to undo the snaps while she wasn’t looking earlier today, but for the life of him couldn’t see how they were stuck together. They must twist or something. And then began the usual routine of getting him diapered for bed. Lifting, scrubbing, another application of whatever that ointment was from earlier, more scrubbing, and an extra coating of powder while she observed out loud “That rash is going to take a couple of days to heal.” When the change was finished, she sat him up and pulled the onesie up and over his head. After a moment she held up one of the baggy shirts of hers he had been wearing to bed, and a blue shirt in his own size with a puppy on it. Guessing her intent, he pointed at the blue shirt and was rewarded with the one he pointed at being pulled unto him. She picked him up and he was being carried in just a shirt and diaper back to the living room. “Wait!” he said as he squeezed her with his arms and legs. With a look of confusion, she stopped and asked “What?” “I’m … only half dressed.” he explained. She just shook her head “No shorts are going to fit over your diaper, and Kate is about to be dressed the exact same way for bed.” Just then Aunt Cat carried Kate right past them. Kate turned and stuck her tongue out at him as they passed. So he obviously stuck his tongue back out at her. That got him a light swat on the insanely thick diaper. With an amused sniff Amanda said “Come on, it looks like Aunt Cat put a blankie on the rocking chair for us.” Moments later he was cradled to her chest with a warm fluffy comforter over the two of them. He had a view of his door as Aunt Cat and Kate came out. Kate was in a diaper identical to his, and the shirt that he had passed on. Did it look that huge on him, too? He was smaller than her, it might look even bigger. As Aunt Cat got settled in on the couch, and wrapped Kate in a blanket, Amanda asked “Hey, can you toss me his stuffie?” Aunt Cat immediately got up saying “That’s right, I almost forgot to get Kate's stuffy out.” She didn’t even bother to put Kate down, just carried her swaddled up in the blanket and held to her chest. A big stuffie was deposited against his chest and John happily wrapped his arms around it. Looking over, he could see them settling back on the couch, this time with Kate clinging onto a distorted mass of cloud. Squinting at it, he could just make out a button nose and the general shape of … a Llama? Kate held up the unfathomably fluffy looking Llama stuffie and said “Duchess” So with a chuckle John held up his black puppy and said “Rupert.” He could see Kate smirk as she amended “Duchess Fluffy. She’s royalty.” Not to let sleeping stuffies lay, he looked at Rupert and back to Kate “Admiral Rupert.” And it continued on with “Duchess Fluffy, of Llamington.” He had to take a moment to yawn as the warmth from Amanda and the blanket fresh from the dryer started to seep into him. After a yawn break he continued the competition “Admiral Rupert Barkley, Of the Isle of Ruff." He had to look to see why she was quiet and he saw her yawning too. She complained “Stop yawning, you’re making me and *yawn* Duchess …” Aunt Cat ended the competition by putting a fingertip to Kate's lips and said “Shhh, it’s time to nurse and get some sleep.” He could hear Kate giving up on the couch and saying “Yes Mommy.” Then he was shuffled around so that he was facing away from the couch and rocked back and forth slowly. Whispering from above him, Amanda asked “Are you ready to nurse, too?” He just shook his head and asked “Can we cuddle for a bit?” “Of course we can, sweetheart.” and the rocking motion continued and they enjoyed a quiet moment together, wrapped up in a warm blanket. John simply laid there taking the moment to think. He really didn’t want to be treated like a baby. But if he truly did get himself trapped here, he figured he could at least enjoy the snuggles. He couldn’t help replaying the events from this afternoon in his mind. Amanda immediately taking Xerxes and running off into the rain to save a life. She didn’t hesitate or second guess at all. She just went to it. And Aunt Cat had driven out here in the rain, so that had to have happened on purpose. And then Aunt Cat tried to keep them calm with some hot chocolate. When that had failed, she tried getting them to sing. He and Kate had agreed to color to get her to stop trying so hard, but even then they insisted on sitting on the living room floor so that they would be there when Amanda came back. He and Kate tried all sorts of guessed about why another little would have come through the rift like he did. The best guess they could come up with was that there was a rescue party searching for him, assuming he was lost in the woods. Or dead. Probably both. And his new adopted Mother, apparently, was brave. She had saved someone that may have been searching for him. And been crying because she hadn’t found them awake. “Hey.” he whispered up. “Yes, Sweety?” He couldn’t even stop himself from saying “Thank you.” He felt a kiss on his forehead. “For what?” When another break for a yawn passed he explained “For being you. You’re a pretty awesome Mom. I didn't set out to come to this world. But if I had to pick any one in this world, it would be you every time.” He felt arms around him squeezing him gently. Finally after a few minutes he shifted his head against her breast and she winced. As a shirt was pulled up, and a bra strap unslung behind him he heard “Okay, it’s time. They’re tender.” And then he found himself in front of a nipple and he knew what was expected of him. This was not how he expected to be interacting with nipples at this point in his life, to say the least. But at least it was delicious. ~~~~~~~~~~ John woke up because something next to him moved. He could feel something over his belly. He looked down to see an arm the same size as his own. Milk addled as his brain was, he barely registered it. He was falling back asleep, but he stretched a bit and moved his arm around until someones head was on his shoulder instead of cutting off circulation to his arm. It was odd, he could feel two legs wrapped around one of his own, and it felt like a warm pillow was pressed against his hip. With another yawn he tried to roll over, but couldn’t as he slid back into the sleepy abyss.

My favorite

Hi everybody! I'm Chris! I'm 19 and asd, I wear diapers to help with accidents mostly cause by overstimulation and straight up forgetting to go pee. I bedwet a few nights a week as well. Parents have kept me diapered my whole life.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Nineteen: Where We Going Saturday morning, Daddie got Katie Ann out of bed bright and early. He changed her diaper while she was still half asleep after removing her nightie. He then dropped a pink t-shirt with a bow just below her collarbone on it. “I want to get off soon, Princess. Can you finish dressing yourself?” he asked. After she nodded, she was handed a flower-embroidered denim jumper to put on. Daddie left to go to his room to get ready. She found a pair of socks waiting for her on her bed, so she finished getting dressed for the day. She wondered what time it was. The sun didn’t look fully up yet. She wondered if Daddie purposely didn’t put a clock in her bedroom. She questioned outside her room, “Daddie?” A disembodied voice came up the steps, “Downstairs, Sweetie. Make sure you bring anything you want for your car bag downstairs with you. It will be a long ride to where we are going today.” Following Daddie’s instructions, she grabbed the library book and headed downstairs. Seeing movement in the kitchen, she wandered towards it. It appeared to her that Daddie was getting breakfast ready for the two of them. Her bib was sitting on the back of the high chair, and the tray was removed. He helped her up in the chair before strapping her in and putting the bib on her. Finally, he put the tray in place. “Where are your pills, sweetie?” he asked her. “In the front pocket of my backpack, Daddie.” He headed to the mudroom to get her pills. He soon was setting a pill on the tray, along with a sippy cup of apple juice. He set a plate of pancakes in front of her before grabbing his own plate and sitting next to her. She started eating the delicious food while wondering where they were going. According to the clock on the microwave across the room, it was seven thirty in the morning. After she was done eating, her face looked like she painted her face with syrup. She sat patiently, waiting for her Daddie to finish eating. After he was done, he attacked Katie's messy face before putting bows in her hair. Letting her down, both of them went to the mud room to put on shoes, with her sitting patiently for him to do hers. After her light-up tennis shoes were on, they went to the car. He opened the door for her to crawl into her car seat. After strapping her in, he went to the driver’s seat and started backing out of the garage. After she grabbed her book from her car bag, she asked, “Where are we going, Daddie?” “The Zoo, Princess” With worry spreading across her face, she asked nervously, “What Zoo?” Katie asked as she looked at how she was dressed. “I don’t think anyone, looking at how you are dressed, would think you are an adult right now, Katie Ann. Even your boss probably wouldn’t recognize you. But we are going to Pittsburgh, not Susquehanna Valley. The reason is because I know you would be too nervous to enjoy yourself. So relax, Princess,” he told her. She told him, “Last time my friends and I went to the zoo, they tried to get me in as a child to tease me, but it didn’t work. They were told good try, and the lady selling tickets greeted me by name.” Thinking, she continued softly as if to herself, “Granted, some things were different then,” looking at her clothes again and feeling the bows on her ears. She returned to her book to stop distracting her Daddie and let him drive safely to the zoo. About an hour and a half later, he told her that they were there. After they were parked and he got out of the car, Daddie stopped at the door opposite her, not her door first. Coming to her door, he unstrapped her. He proceeded to hand her a red ladybug rain jacket while saying, “Please put this on, sweetie. It is sprinkling.” After putting her rain jacket on, she followed her Daddie hand in hand towards the entrance to the Zoo. Once they got to the entrance area, he paid for admission for one adult and one child. While entering the park, they paused in front of the stroller rental area. He asked her teasingly, “Do we have to get you a stroller?” She wasn’t sure how to answer that. An actual seven-year-old probably would walk. Daddie was in control of her according to the contract. That was something that hadn’t been brought up in a while, and she didn’t want to break the illusion with the other people standing around. He took her lack of answer as not wanting one, so said, “Maybe not. You are too old for one.” He took her hand to continue to where the animals were. ~o~O~o~ As they were walking through the giftshop to leave the Zoo, Katie Ann asked her Daddie, “Can I get something, please?” “That depends on what you want, Princess?” “That stuffed otter, and ...” she said, pointing at about a 15-inch long otter, and then after pointing at a pink t-shirt with a polar bear on it, “... that t-shirt, plllleeeaassseee, Daaddddiiiieeee.” “Go grab your otter, and I will go see if the shirt is your size,” he told her, shaking his head as he headed to the shirt. She gladly skipped to grab an otter and came back to her Daddie. He was flipping through the shirts, then pulled two out and held them up to her for size. “Would an XS or S be better,” he said to no one in particular. Seeing a teenager who worked at the gift shop, he asked if they had a fitting room and got directed to a curtained-off corner. He headed there with shirts in one hand and Katie Ann in the other hand. Closing the curtain, he had her remove her jumper and then handed her the S to try over her other shirt. Deciding that it went on her a little too easy, he had her try the XS shirt. “Ok, take that off, sweetie, and put your jumper back on. We will go with the small. Extra small is a little tight on you,” he told her. They head to the till to pay for the items before heading to the car. After she was strapped in, Daddie started driving through the city streets of Pittsburgh before saying we are here. “Where is here, Daddie?” she asked when it looked like another parking lot. “The Botanical Gardens, Princess.” Leaving the car, they held hands and went to the big glass building. “One adult and a kid, please,” he told the lady behind the counter. ~o~O~o~ Katie Ann had really liked the Gardens, especially the children’s garden. After they were back in the car, Daddie started back to Riverville. They stopped for a happy meal for her mid-route. After they were back on the road, Katie’s book dropped out of her hands as she drifted asleep. Daddie, having heard the sound of the book falling, looked back at her. When he saw Katie was asleep, he smiled at how cute she looked sleeping. He pulled the car off to the shoulder so he could take a picture of her and pick the book up so as not to ruin it. He was very careful not to wake her while he picked it up. Soon, they were back on the road, not that she would notice in her relaxed state. Pulling into the driveway, he said, “Katie Ann, time to wake up.” Her eyes popped open as if she were a doll, and she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Morning, Sunshine,” he continued. She looked around, surprised they were already home, and asked, “Did I fall asleep, or did you turn on warp speed?” “Warp speed, Sweetie. No, you fell asleep, and I got the photo evidence to prove your cute state,” he said, getting out of the car to let her out. After he unstrapped her, he picked her up and said, “It is time for you to become my rag doll again, Buttercup.” He carried her directly upstairs, setting her down on the changing table and strapping her down. Turning to her closet, he pulled out a dress bag and set it on her bed. Turning back to her, he changed her bottom. After he took her shoes and socks off and her jumper and shirt off, he put her in the doll’s one piece, making sure her hands were in fists. He took her bows out and then zipped the headpiece shut. Sitting Katie back on the ground, he put the rag doll outfit on her before hairpinning her wig on her. Directing her to the bed, he told her, “Be a good little doll while I go get the face paint for your face.” Soon after he walked out of the room, Buttercup heard the doorbell going crazy. She could then hear muffled voices whiffling up the stairs. Footsteps up the stairs were the last thing she heard before she saw Mrs. Bullard and Owner walking into the room. He was just shrugging at her about the situation. Mrs. Bullard addressed her, “As I told Adam downstairs, I am not stupid. A daughter doesn’t appear out of nowhere!” ~o~O~o~ Author's Note: Comments, and questions are always welcomed. I will be away from a physical computer for the next week and half to two weeks. I will resume posting when I have access to a physical computer again. I will have my cell phone, but not a physical computer. -- Thanks Becky

Mistake Thirteen I needed a break. I was going stir crazy at the Memoriam, and my fight with Judith had me on edge. I reassigned the same attendant to take care of Judith that I had before, the one she didn't remember. If Judith even mentioned my name, the attendant was supposed to text me. If I was going to go on vacation somewhere, I wanted to go somewhere warm. Maybe back to South Africa, since it was late spring over there. I could visit family before the holidays. But I wasn't going on vacation. Even if the Magistrate would approve the time off, I was too much of a workaholic to step away from the Academy project. So I went to the next best place: Academy Z. Most of the Academies were in the United States; it was easier to keep track of them. But one Magister had land in Columbia. I wore a yellow sundress and a big floppy hat. The weather was perfect. "Maryyyyy!" I couldn't stop the small woman from crashing into me. I almost fell down. She wore a children's school uniform and her hair in pigtails. I ruffled her hair playfully, but she broke our hug and slapped at my hands. "I just did my pigtails," she said sourly. "Please be more careful." "Sorry," I laughed. "Your hair still looks great." "It better," she pouted, pulling on the ends to make them even. "Are those new glasses?" "Ah, yeah," I sighed. "I mean, they aren't new. But I got used to them, so…" "Cool, cool, cool." But she didn't care about my glasses. "So what did you bring me?" "Penny, manners." A man came up behind her with exhaustion written all over his face. He probably hadn't slept. Classic overachiever. "Nice to see you, Kenzō," I said, pulling him in for a hug. He hugged me back. Both he and Penny were shorter than me. "Marrryyyy," Penny whined. "Can I pleeeeaaaase have the thing you brought me?" "Penny," Kenzō sighed. "No, no, it's okay." I swung my purse around and reached inside. I pulled out a small candy, wrapped in red foil. Penny snatched it out of my hand. "What is it?" she asked. "Cherry Ripe. It's from Australia." "Ooohhh..." She immediately started to unwrap it. Penny loved foreign candy, so I always brought something with me when I came to see her. "How's M?" Kenzō asked. Kenzō was a quieter guy with a lot of patience. He was kind of spacey sometimes, because he would get lost in his head designing things. He was the Academy's tech lead, and he was damn good at his job. He was also Penny's boyfriend. "It's so unbelievably dull," I groaned. "And Judith is really pissing me off, which makes it a thousand times worse." "Things have been lively everywhere else," Kenzō said. "Now that all these places have residents, it feels like there's always something to do." "Reassign me anywhere else," I joked, but not really. If they took me off Judith's case, I wouldn't be held responsible. "If I could, I'd have you working with us at Academy L," Kenzō said with a smile. "But your talents would be wasted there." "Yeah?" "None of the Candies would understand a word you're saying." While Kenzō and I talked, I went over to Penny and lifted her skirt. Without breaking conversation, I stuck a finger in the leg band of her diaper. She nearly dropped her candy, slapping my hands away and taking two panicked steps backward. "MARIA!" "I'm surprised you're still dry," I teased. "I changed her less than an hour ago," Kenzō added. Penny blushed and went back to her candy. I knew she loved when people did stuff like that, teased her and checked her and treated her like a little girl. Thankfully, I'd had a lot of practice. Hell, Penny was the whole reason I'd had any practice at all. If it wasn't for her, we never would have come up with the regression angle for the Academies. "Let's walk," I said, motioning down the path. Academy Z was set up a lot like a zoo. The whole park was dotted with artificial environments. The outdoor playpens, parks, and playgrounds had high walls of glass around them. The indoor nurseries and daycares had a wall of glass to look in. There was never more than two or three Candies per exhibit, and the park was only half-full. Despite that, a hundred or so people were walking around, poking at the glass and cooing at the adult babies on the other side. "This is a big turnout," I said, a little impressed. "Some are Academy workers who wanted an all-expense paid vacation," Kenzō explained. "The rest are paid actors, participating in a 'psychological experiment'." "You aren't worried about anyone taking pictures or telling someone about this?" I asked. "We partnered with a few local colleges to offer credit for participation. They signed an NDA. If they say anything about it, they lose the credit and probably a lot of money." "Hm... I guess when you act like something is normal, people think it's normal." "Generally speaking." "I wanna see the babies at the park!" Penny said excitedly. She raced on ahead and Kenzō had to hurry to catch up. I waited on the bench while Penny made faces at the grown man in a diaper and a T-shirt. The man did his best to ignore her while he rocked on the little horsey ride. To him, Penny probably looked like an actual middle schooler and Kenzō her actual father. I mean, Penny was Korean and Kenzō was Hawaiian, but people are stupid. I imagined what it must be like to be watched like that by a dad and a little girl; the family angle was a strong move. "Do you know what Eli and ——— are up to?" I asked, walking to the next exhibit. "Problem solving, I suppose," Kenzō shrugged. He wasn't usually kept in the loop. Or rather, he didn't want to be. He wanted to work on his projects and not much else. "Any new developments?" I asked, but that question was to Penny. "Uhhhhh... well, the Hanged Man is out of the picture." "Out of the picture?" "Oh, he died." Woah. Okay. I didn't expect that, especially out of Penny's mouth in her best little girl voice. "He had to. It was inevitable," Penny said, maybe trying to assuage my concern. It must have been written all over my face. "I know, I just... thought maybe it was a metaphor or something." "He wrote poems," Penny said. "Even when he forgot how to write, he still kept trying to write poems. It was cute." "How did he..." Did I even want to know? "Well, I think he kinda fell apart," Penny pouted. "All the gaslighting, us pretending he was someone else. He wasn't sure of anything, and he wanted it to stop. When the attendant used the marker on him..." The markers were prototypes at best. They had a lot of unexpected side-effects, and Kenzō was constantly updating them. But Penny was implying that the Hanged Man used the marker to create a reality where he wasn't alive anymore. That was a lot to take in... "I've added a safety protocol since then," Kenzō added. "It won't happen again." "And it doesn't matter," Penny added cheerfully. "In Eden, we can just bring him back! No harm done." No harm done. The Academy was built around the idea that the ends justified the means. A few broken eggs now, but we would make it better. We could fix everything in the end. We could have our cake and eat it too. But knowing that we made a man so willing to die... I thought about Judith. I went up to a glass pane and looked inside. A little girl was banging on the other wall, on the far side of the little room. She knew there had to be a way out of the cubicle, decorated with a dozen plushies and foam puzzle-piece tiles. She glanced sideways at me, and I smiled. I tapped the glass and cooed at her. I watched her shake her head. Then the girl suddenly froze. She doubled over onto her hands and knees and I watched her face scrunch up. The seat of her onesie expanded as she pushed, filling her diaper. I imagined what the smell in that little room must be like for her. The next time she caught my gaze, I laughed. I pointed and motioned for Kenzō and Penny. They laughed too, and the girl inside began to sob. Humans were so easy to break. But after we got what we needed, she wouldn't remember any of it anyway. Trauma is still trauma if you never remember it, but what if it never happened? What if we can go back and change our means after we get to the ends? Is that still a bad thing? My day with Penny and Kenzō was calm and relaxing. It reminded me of our time together before we found Judith. It was just the vacation I needed, and I still got to work. But at the end of the day, as we were heading out of the park, I still had one question. "Is this really the best use for me right now? Staying with Judith? There's so much else going on..." "Penny thinks so," Kenzō shrugged. "She's really powerful," Penny pouted. "I still don't know which Arcana she is, and I spend hours every day trying to figure it out." "Do you think she's the Star?" I asked. "No, I don't. But I can't be sure. And what if she's the Tower? Or the Fool? There's a lot worse things she could be..." "Fool seems appropriate," I sighed. "She's far too trusting." "If you keep her in check, and it won't matter who she is," Penny reassured me. "If we control her, she can't hurt us." "Sure, sure." If we could control her. But what if we couldn't? "Just keep being you," Penny said brightly. "You can do anything." Penny was sometimes an anomaly. Acting like a little girl was so natural for her, but then there were moments like that. She was smart. She did her job well. And I knew, in a perfect world, she wouldn't have to be smart or do her job well to matter. She could just be a little girl and be loved for it. Maybe that was why she was on this project in the first place. As a reward for all her hard work, once we were away from the zoo and away from the Candies, I stuck my hand up the back of her dress again. Her cheeks went crimson. "Seems like your little girl needs a diaper change," I said to Kenzō. "Well, then we better get going." I hugged them both goodbye. They wanted me to stay for longer, but I needed to get back to work. I had to figure out what to do about Judith. The flight back to Academy M took a while, and I thought a lot about my talks with Kenzō and Penny. My job was to figure out who Judith was, and why she mattered so much. I needed to figure out her role. But all I could think about was that man, the one that died. He died feeling broken. He died scared and alone. I should have taken another few days off. I should have gone to Rachel, my on-staff therapist. I hadn't had an appointment with her since I met Ai. I thought I could handle it. I thought I was handling it. But I was mistaken.

Thank you for your kind words. A bit of spoiler: This plot line doesn't reappear until Chapter 57. ~o~O~o~ Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne Proofread by Jamie M ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Eight: Resort Kitten Tiffany, who had long since turned to fake watching the TV, saw Kath’s door being opened, and the same guy stepped out before setting the covered object on the ground outside the door. He picked it up after testing to make sure Kath’s door was locked. She could see that he had Kath’s bag over one shoulder and a blue duffle bag on top of the object. She also noticed that it seemed to be heavier than before. Looking at the time, she discovered he had been in there for just over an hour. She decided to follow him from a distance as he carried it slowly and surely down the steps. He was treating it as if it was extremely fragile now, too. Once she got to the lobby, she saw him loading it in the backseat of a blue Cadillac Escalade. Taking the time to jot down the license plate, she watched him carefully secure that covered object in the backseat before taking the duffle and Kath’s bag and placing them in the very full back. Closing both the backseat door and the hatch door, he got in and drove off. Going back up to the third floor to get her class supplies, she paused to knock on Kathleen’s room just to make sure Kath was where she thought she was. ~o~O~o~ It felt like to Buttercup that she was being carried down the steps. She kept getting bumped around. The pet bed could be so much thicker, so thick that she hardly fit in the carrier, and she would still have bumps and bruises. She knew Owner wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was just the nature of the steps. Not having hands to hold on to anything, she tried bracing herself against the sides. She heard Owner whisper to her that she still had one flight of steps to go. Doing the mental math, which meant she was halfway down the steps, she braced herself for the last set of steps. Finally, the jarring stopped, so she moved her arms away from the side and relaxed. Soon after, she felt the temperature change that signified she was outside. After she was placed down in the backseat of the Owner’s vehicle, she heard what sounded like someone trying to strap the carrier down. Hearing doors open and closed, she wondered if she was going to be in total darkness for what she was led to believe was a couple of hours’ trip. She didn’t have long to wait. The flap was removed from the door, and the door was opened, and she could see that Owner was reaching from the driver's seat. After setting a bowl of what looked like soft cat food in her carrier, he told her that was her lunch before closing and locking the door again. He then strapped what looked like a large pet water holder to the cage door. Taking timid bites, she found that it was a mix of soft and hard cat food and not as terrible as she thought it would be. She wouldn’t go out of her way to eat this stuff, but it wasn’t going to kill her. She just hoped that she wasn’t going to eat cat food all weekend long, let alone every time she was with Owner, that it would be a long year. “Take a catnap, my kitty. It is going to be a two to three hours drive,” she was told as she felt the car moving. She tried to look out the window, but all she could see from her angle was the top of buildings, trees, and mountains. She thought the view in the car towards the controls might be better, but all she got with that was a small portion of his side. Next thing she knew, she was drifting asleep to that catnap. ~o~O~o~ She was jarred awake when she felt the carrier being moved. Hearing Owner speaking, it sounded like he was giving instructions to someone, “Be extremely careful with her” and “Everything in the back, but the blue duffel bag” were two of the things she heard. Looking out of the door after she was set down, all she could see was a blue SUV. It sounded like bags were being stacked alongside of her and on top of her. Owner’s voice again instructed the unknown group, “We need to stop and check her in, then you can take the lot to our room.” As she was being wheeled into the building, she decided there was way too much marble, elegant details, and gold leaf in her field of vision for this to be a cheap resort. “Sir Adam, it is always nice to see you. What wing would you like your VIP room to be in? And where is your sub that you have registered?” Owner's face blocked her field of vision as he unlocked the door and helped her out of the carrier. “Little, and here she is.” As Buttercup was looking around at the large, very ornate lobby, she heard the clerk say, “VIP or not, you can’t bring a child here, especially one already dressed for pet play.” She noticed Owner handed what she assumed to be her license to the twenty-something girl behind the counter while assuring them she was nineteen. She wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. She was counting the floors above her. It appeared to be five when she heard, “Kathleen Annabelle Telgenhof, answer the lady.” “Umm, Sorry, ask me again,” she answered embarrassingly. The lady behind the counter began to quiz Kathleen about the details of her license. She was asked to spell her last name, her birthday, address, hair color, and finally, her height. “I believe they rounded up, so it should say 53. Otherwise, it might say 52,” was Kathleen's answer to the last one. “Let me add a copy of this to her profile. I expect she will be quizzed a few times being that short,” the lady said, doing something out of Kathleen's vision before handing a few items to Owner. “Buttercup, let me have your left arm,” she was asked as Owner grabbed it. Taking it, he undid the buttons before placing what looked like a hospital ID band around her wrist and firmly locking it on her. The buttons were redone, and she was helped back into the carrier by him. Once she was all the way in it, but before she had a chance to turn around, she heard the door closed, and she thought a click of a lock. She was being wheeled by the unknown person. She could sometimes catch a glimpse of Owner’s legs, so she knew it wasn’t him. She got comfortable, then proceeded to read her left wrist, in what light came from the door. It called her Katie Ann Telgenhof (S/VIP), had her nickname of Buttercup, and said her Owner was Adam Olsen (VIP). It also had her birthday on it, and then it was followed by some numbers that looked like codes. They were labeled Program, Group, and Location. There were what looked to be dates on it too, 9/1-9/4, finished by a barcode on it. They stopped shortly to open a door before wheeling her into a room. Once again, Owner was in instructions mode. “Place the bags nicely on the floor in this room and place her on the master bed.” As she was being sat on the bed, she heard a knock on the door. Owner and what appeared to be a mysterious two persons went to the door she could just barely see, after which someone wheeled a cart into the other room before leaving. The other two individuals left with them. Owner unlocked the door before helping her out of the crate. “Just the two of us now, kitty.” “Meow” “I am going to get some dinner for both of us before I help you in the bathroom.” “Meow” With that, Owner began to feed Buttercup what tasted like pasta alfredo, which pleased her greatly that it didn’t come from a bag with a cat’s face on it. In between feeding her, he took bites himself from the same plate. Occasionally, he would bring a sippy cup of iced tea to her lips. True to his word, after dinner, he helped her in the bathroom, before returning her wretched tail back where it came from. Returning to the suite after her business was done, he had her cuddle up to him as he petted her while he watched the telly. ~o~O~o~ Chapter Nine: Raggedy Ann and The Guard Kathleen rolled over and tried to figure out where she was, why she couldn’t extend her hands, and what was the weird feeling on her chest and bum hole. As the sleep butterflies slowly disappeared, she remembered that she was Buttercup, with her Owner for the first time, wearing a kitten outfit at a BDSM resort. Her chest felt weird because it was flat. Her small breasts were bound. As for her bum hole, that was because of the evil, wretched tail. She really didn’t mind this outfit. Truthfully, she thought she looked cute in it when she caught glimpses of herself in brass work in the room yesterday. Yep, she didn’t mind this outfit … EXCEPT… that bloody tail that she hated with a passion. The last thing she remembers was being petted by Owner in the suite proper, not being in this room, which looked like a bedroom. She must have fallen fast asleep, so asleep that she couldn’t be woken up. She had a bad habit of doing that. He must have carried her to bed last night when he went to bed himself. Looking at the clock across the room, she noticed that it was barely after four in the morning. She tried to fall back asleep after curling back in a ball in her cat bed on top of the same bed that apparently Owner was also sleeping in, listening to his soft breathing. Buttercup was trying to chase a butterfly in the midst of flowers in her dreams when she felt her ears being scratched. She looked around for the person distracting her from her flying target so she could stick her claws in them, but it was just her and her butterfly. She felt her ears being scratched again as she batted for the butterfly. She puzzled over the scratching sensation when it was just her and the butterfly. “Poof,” went the butterfly when she realized the scratching was Owner trying to wake her up. Stretching, she made a purring sound as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Good morning, my kitty,” she was told as he petted her. Picking her up, he carried her to the bathroom. Sitting her down on the floor, she saw the collars being removed, and the sound of the zip tie being cut. After her wrists were untied, she was helped out of the cat outfit. Then he finally took her wretched tail out. Breathing a sigh of relief that didn’t last long, she went, “MEOW MEOW MEOW,” as she put her hands on the throne. Allowing her to do her business, he pointed out that she isn’t a cat anymore. Owner said that she is allowed to use words but finished with these suspicious words, “at least ‘til I get you dressed again.” Stepping out of the room to give her privacy, he returned when she said she was done. Picking her up, she was laid down on a white pad on the bed. He then proceeded to give her a damp sponge bath after stopping to remove the masks from her face. Staring at the ceiling while he was doing her legs, she felt him stop and get something that sounded like it was wrapped in plastic. Her legs were then grabbed, and something thicker was put under her bum. “It is a snowstorm,” he said in a silly tone. Looking at him, she noticed he was putting powder on her bottom. POWDER?!?! “He isn’t diapering me, is he?” she thought. Straining to see what that thick pad was, she confirmed exactly what she thought it was. She was going to be diapered. Before she could react, that diaper was closed and around her bottom. Patting it, he told her to stay put while he got her clothes for the day. After helping her put her feet into what looked to be another one-piece outfit, he fed her fisted hands in the arms. Her left arm was precisely like the kitty outfit. The hand was only attached to the bottom, so her resort ID band was out in the open. After making sure her hands were in fists in the onesie hands, he tied the hidden ribbons, locking her fists in. Pulling the headpiece up from her still-flat chest, she noticed the top of the outfit was made of a mesh-like material, so her hair was clearly visible. As he was zipping her up, she took stock of the outfit. Other than her legs, which were striped red and white, the rest of it was just a nude fabric color. It hugged her skin, and it really showed off her padding. Though the outfit had thick hands, most of them were just stuffing. Her real hands were in the palms in fists. She was a bit confused about what she was. She needed more details. Helping her to stand next to the bed, he dropped a blue long-sleeve dress over her head before buttoning her up the back. While he placed a white apron onto the front of her, she thought she might be Alice or Raggedy Ann, though probably the latter with her legs. She was helped into a pair of black shiny Mary Janes. She felt they were tighter than expected but not too tight. Then she remembered that Tiffany took accurate measurements of her and didn’t write what Buttercup usually wore down. As he was setting a red yarn wig on her head, they heard the room doorbell ring. After he left to deal with it, she took the chance to look at herself in a reflective room decoration. She was definitely Raggedy Ann. She thought it looked good. Though her wig was crooked, and she currently had no face, though she was sure neither of those would stay like that long. “Let’s finish getting my doll dressed so we can eat before our breakfast gets cold.” Fixing the wig, he started to attach it to yesterday’s braid with bobby pins. Leading her out in the main room, she was sat by the table, which had some covered plates on it. He then started to paint her face slowly. He began to paint her nose slowly with a red triangle before painting muted red circles on her cheeks. Still staying with the red face paint, he painted her lips just in the center. Watching him switch to a brown makeup pencil, she felt him tapping above her upper lip as if she were getting freckles. Finally, she saw him picking up a black pencil, and he gave her lashes before extending her lips. After cleaning up his mess, he uncovered the breakfast. Apparently, her breakfast today was two pancakes and a sippy cup of unknown liquid. He had bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, and what looked like sausage gravy with a cup of coffee. She couldn’t even dream of eating that much food. Putting syrup on her pancakes, he began to feed her, between bites of his own, while giving her instructions on her character. In his presence, or in this hotel room, she was a doll. She didn’t move a muscle herself. He would move her where he wanted her unless he was holding her hand, then she was to walk alongside him. At no time was she supposed to talk as a doll unless it was an emergency or it was a hotel staff member demanding information. Both breakfasts gone, and the cups empty, he softly cleaned her face so the repairs were minimal. Repairs done, he carried her to the couch and cuddled up to her while he watched television. ~o~O~o~ Buttercup, the doll, was kind of watching the television from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t supposed to turn her head towards it. She was instructed to keep whatever position Owner set her in when she was in this outfit. Right now, it was sideways on the couch, leaning against him, with her arms crossed. Nothing was interesting on the telly anyway. He was watching some sports game. She would make a gagging motion and/or a sound, but both of those probably would get her in trouble. It had to be almost over. She heard the announcer say something about seconds on the clock in the fourth quarter. She thought he started watching it in the pre-game, so she must have been sitting here in this same position for hours. She heard what sounded like his PDA going off, and in order to get to the pocket it was in, he folded her up, placing her head near her feet. She hoped she didn’t stay in this position for long. It wasn’t painful right now, but she could see it getting more uncomfortable as time went along. She felt him getting up before noticing him coming towards her in the corner of her eye. He set about helping her up on her feet before grabbing her hand and walking towards the door. Walking alongside him as he had instructed earlier, she was told, “I have a couple of hours' meeting today. We will get lunch first. Then I will leave you in the VIP Lounge while I have the meeting. You are free to walk around while I am gone.” Going into the hall, she could see that the decoration for this part of the hotel reminded her of a daycare, one designed with adult-sized people in mind. Going through a set of doors at the end of the hall, the difference was huge. On one side of the doors was a daycare. The other side was an expensive five-star resort. Looking through the balcony bars at the lobby below, she appeared to be on the third floor. After a short ride down to the main floor, he led her into a small restaurant nearby. He helped her into a chair before sitting down himself. They had barely sat down long when Buttercup heard behind her, “What can I get you two?” “She will have grilled cheese and Iced Tea from your Littles menu, and I will have a french dip with a coke to drink. Please place it on my tab.” The mysterious voice acknowledged the order and then disappeared. Buttercup noticed that the couple at the next table were dressed as Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. Owner must have noticed her eye movement because he addressed her, “This resort has a huge wardrobe available for guests use. Unfortunately, none of them are Buttercup’s size, being an actual child’s size. This outfit and the kitten one were custom-made for you.” It couldn’t have been five minutes before a grilled cheese sandwich with apple slices and a sippy cup was set in front of her. Owner promptly set about making sure she was well-fed and bringing the sippy cup to her lips. Grabbing her hands, he had her place them on each side of the sippy cup on the edge of the table before moving them to her mouth so she was holding her own sippy cup in her mouth. Taking that as a hint, she drank her iced tea. She could see that he didn’t touch his sandwich until her food was all fed to her, and then he started eating himself. After he was done, he helped her up, and, grabbing her hand again, she was led out of the restaurant, briefly stopping to grab a refill of her sippy cup. Going through more corridors, he paused briefly to enter a code at a door before leading both of them through it. Buttercup thought this wing looked even more expensive. “Sir Adam, welcome to the VIP lounge.” “Thank you. I will be leaving my submissive here for a few hours while I deal with resort business,” Owner replied to the lady wearing a French maid outfit. “Is she over 18? Let’s check her in.” After letting the lady know that she was indeed over eighteen, he gently moved Buttercup’s left arm towards the lady. After the ID band was scanned, he led the ragdoll into the room after letting them know he wasn’t staying. She was drinking iced tea, and she was not allowed to drink alcohol. Raggedy Kath just dropped her mouth after she was led into a combination library, bar, comfortable lounge, and computer lab. Owner told her she was free to move around before leaving her. The first thing the rag doll did was go to the bookshelves to see if any books caught her eye. One that caught her eye was ‘Gone with the Wind.’ Which promptly reminded her she didn’t actually have hands when she tried to take it off the shelf. Going to a stack of magazines, she found one labeled Reminisce. She somehow managed to get it to where she left her sippy cup. She was on her third Reminisce and was, by now, becoming quite good at turning the pages with her covered fists. The lady who checked her in made sure her sippy cup was never near-empty either. She heard raised voices over her. She looked up, and it was a security guard and the lady in the French maid outfit. They appear to be discussing her, precisely her age. “Young girl, how old are you?” the guard demanded as he noticed she looking. “19, born in March of 87,” she replied, holding her ID band up for view. The guard, seeing the ID band, scanned it and started to quiz her stuff off her driver’s license. Satisfied with the answers, he left the room to continue his rounds. The lady just meekly apologizes for her distraction, offering treats and complimentary items for her to excuse the experience. She knew she wasn’t really supposed to talk, but the lady demanded an answer. The ragdoll answered, “I don’t have the freedom to accept those. Please offer them to my Owner when he picks me up.” Realizing that was the best the lady was going to get, she left the little girl. The next time Buttercup looked up from her magazine, she found not only was her sippy cup refilled, but she had two chocolate chip cookies next to it. Shaking her head, she just ate them. There was no need to upset the lady anymore. ~o~O~o~ Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Buttercup jumped, looking up from her tenth magazine. She really enjoyed these. It was Owner, there to pick her up from the lounge. “I understand you had a little incident. I am happy with how you handled it. You just saved me some money for tomorrow, not that is a problem, but it is always nice to have comps,” Owner praised her for her earlier actions. Nodding and blushing as red as her painted cheeks, she handed her owner her sippy cup before going to put the magazine away. She heard, “Katie Ann, I will put that away.” When she turned toward the voice, she found it was the French maid lady. After handing the maid the Reminisce, she offered Owner her hand. He led her back to the lobby and what looked like a seafood restaurant. She heard him check in for a reservation. Soon after, they were being led to a booth, where she was made to go in first, and then he got in after her on the same side. “Can I have your Littles Menu? She will have an iced tea in this sippy cup, and I will have a Chardonnay.” After the other menu was dropped off, she noticed that he was looking at both and scratching his chin. “How big are your Littles portions?” He asked the waitress when she came to the table. After being informed that the Littles menu was designed for adult appetites, he ordered, “In that case, I will have your surf and turf with a baked potato and your green beans, and she will have your lobster tail on a bed of rice with carrots.” Soon after the waitress left, a basket of crab cakes was placed on the table. He looked at the little rag doll and said, “I give you permission to move and talk now, Kathleen,” after setting a crab cake and her drink within her reach. Realizing her full first name was basically him ordering her to be an adult. She was to come out of any character she was, she went meekly, “Yes, Owner? Sir?” She was then quizzed on her weekend so far. If she was enjoying the relationship and the outfits, and if it was what she thought it was going to be. She was enjoying almost everything, to the surprise of herself, and loved the outfits. “Except for that bloody wretched tail,” she pointed out. She didn’t have a realistic vision of what a real-life sub was. She admitted that. He just chuckled at her about the tail before informing her that she was being tested these last two days. He had another plan for her, something other than a cat or a doll. “Don’t get me wrong, this weekend isn’t the last time you are going to see either of them, including that tail, but I have another lifestyle planned for you. How about your chest?” Kath expresses clueless about what Owner meant by her chest. “Your binder?” “Oh, I haven’t even felt it for most of today, true to your word. I didn’t notice it once I got used to it. It felt different and uncomfortable yesterday, but not painful. Once I got used to it, I stopped noticing it,” she answered. Happy with her answers, she was told, “Buttercup, you free to move, but no more talking.” The waitress used that cue to place their meals down, almost like she was waiting off-stage for a cue. Owner set to work feeding both her and himself their meals. She enjoyed the lobster, something she hadn’t really had before. After their meals were done - or, in the rag doll’s case, had a full stomach - the two of them went back to the room. She had a doggy bag with her leftovers and a sippy cup around her wrist on the side that wasn’t holding Owner’s hand. After taking care of her food and changing her bottom, she was led back to the couch. She watched him put a DVD in the player. When it came up, she could only silently giggle at the fact it was a Raggedy Ann disk. Cuddling into Owner, she sat to watch herself on the telly.

Mistake Eleven When I entered the beach house, we were barely through our hellos when I told her to wet herself. She put on a fleeting blush and did as she was told. For the rest of the week, every time I arrived at the beach house, I told her to pee her pants. It started to become the first thing we did, even before hellos, even before I set down her medicine cup. Sometimes she would struggle. Sometimes she couldn't do it very much. But always, there was a wet spot between her thighs. "Wet yourself," I told her. It was the tenth day in a row. "Nana..." "Wet yourself," I said again. So she did. Rivulets of dark denim appeared down her inner thighs and a puddle formed beneath her feet. "Good girl," I cooed. "Nana," she said again, quieter this time. "Yes?" I asked. "Am I gonna... are we gonna... today...?" She still struggled with the word 'sex'. Honestly, she probably didn't consider what we did 'sex' at all. It was a different thing, a thing she didn't have a word for. And she wanted it. "Does that matter?" I asked. "Kind of," Judith said sourly. "I've been doing this all week... listening to you, and..." "You listen to me because that's what good girls do," I said plainly. "And good girls get rewarded." "Well, I haven't been rewarded," Judith huffed. She wasn't wrong. In the past ten days, I'd rubbed her diaper once and I let her grind on Papa once. But she'd worn a diaper every single day. "I can't reward you for just anything," I said. "I don't think peeing my pants is just anything," she said sharply. She sure was on edge. "It's part of your routine," I said. "I enter. You wet yourself. There's nothing special about this." "But..." Judith hesitated. She knew I was right. It was so mundane these days. "I'm sorry I'm not living up to your needs," I said sadly. "By the time I'm done stripping you of your wet clothes, cleaning up the floors, putting on your laundry... that's a lot of work. I don't always have the energy to jump into pleasuring my little girl." "I didn't ask for that..." Judith pouted, but I knew she was feeling guilty. "But that's the problem, isn't it?" I asked. "You want more time with Papa. You want me to rub your diaper more." "No, um... well..." Judith looked away. She didn't know what to say. Of course that was what she wanted. I'd cultivated that association. It was call and response. But wanting sex had a bad social stigma. Judith fell prey to that. "I guess we can change our routine," I sighed. "You don't have to have accidents for me." "No!" Judith almost panicked. It wasn't just the idea of going backward, of taking away something that was intrinsically ours. It was also the implication: fewer accidents, fewer diapers, fewer orgasms. "Well, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do," I said. "You aren't. I... I want to. I just... I didn't realize it was so much work for you." Judith looked at her feet and bit her lip. She was thinking. She was trying to solve the problem. And the solution was obvious. But I wanted to her to come up with it on her own. She had already accepted so many new things. Was this just another straw of hay in the haystack, or was it the straw that would break the camel's back? "What if... I was already in a diaper?" she asked, muttering under her breath. "Then you wouldn't have to clean up. Would that ruin the vibe for you…?" "If you were already in a diaper when I got here?" I raised my eyebrows, in mock surprise. But a welcome surprise. I put my finger to my lips and theatrically thought for a few more moments, before nodding with all the cautious optimism of a woman trying kombucha for the first time. "That could work," I said, more to myself than her. "The idea of you wearing diapers for me all the time is kind of sexy. A permanent fixture, a reminder that you're powerless, and that you belong to me. Like a collar." "Uh..." Judith blushed a little deeper and twirled the end of her hair. "That is... an idea..." "Oh, you like that, do you? My collared baby girl, only instead of around your neck... it's around your hips." "Ya know, I wasn't into all this stuff when I met you," Judith said flatly, still blushing. "But you're into it now?" I asked, catching her past tense. "Well... I like how happy it makes you. And you get so excited." Admittedly, that was my intention. I was a lot less aloof, a lot more intimate when she was in a submissive position. I'd cultivated that association. To get my affection, she had to give up her power. But I guess I was just a little surprised with her selflessness. It wasn't just an eagerness to get fucked that led her into the lion's jaws, but a willingness to see me happy. Judith was the perfect mark for manipulating. "Let's get you changed," I said, taking her hand "Yes please." Judith said, following after me without a single ounce of hesitation. She used to be so humiliated walking around in wet pants, but now she had nothing more than a light blush on her cheeks. When we were in the en suite bathroom, I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. "I thought it was kind of weird, all this baby stuff," Judith admitted. "But through like, a lens of... I dunno. Powerlessness, like you said? Not being allowed to use the bathroom, or touch myself... or when you put the pacifier in my mouth to shut me up. You deciding what I wear, even though it isn't appropriate for a woman my age." I stripped off her panties next, and she raised her arms when I removed her shirt. She crossed her arms over her bare chest; she hadn't been wearing bras at all the past few days, ever since I mentioned they got in the way of groping her. "It's like... you aren't treating me like a baby. Babies don't have sex, for one. The baby stuff is just a filter." "That's true," I said. It was that way for most of the Academy, to be honest. We didn't want any of the Candies to actually be babies. We wanted them to feel helpless, and like we knew best. We wanted them to obey us. Regression was just the perfect filter to get the picture we wanted. "C'mon." I took her hand again and led her to the bed. I unfolded the diaper and laid her down on top of it. Changing her was so routine now, she didn't even complain. I taped the diaper on expertly and patted the front. Her cheeks were pink. "Princess dress?" I asked. "Ugh..." "Princess dress!" I confirmed, and went over to the closet. I knew Judith wasn't big into the whole princess aesthetic, but the more I forced it upon her the more she accepted it. It was a part of her, whether she liked it or not. That made my victory all the sweeter. I put her in a fluffy pink dress and sent her out to the living room to watch TV. I had to clean the kitchen floor and start her laundry again, possibly for the last time. We didn't have sex. We watched a movie. She hinted at feeling aroused a few times, squirming or leaning up to kiss me. I let her efforts go unnoticed. Eventually, she gave up. She knew I'd had to clean up after her once again, and that I was probably tired. I wasn't. I kissed her goodbye and left her feeling frustrated and needy. She wasn't allowed near the door when I opened it; protocol or whatever lie I made up. So Judith stood on the far side of her foyer in her diaper and princess dress as I left. I watched on her monitor as she went to the bedroom. She changed out of the dress and the diaper. She hesitated, looking at the pair of panties in her hand, and then at the bed. I watched her climb onto the mattress and slip her hand between her legs. After a minute or two of warming herself up, she stopped. She fell back onto the mattress and covered her face with her hands. I knew my words were ringing in her ears. She was a good girl. She shouldn't do that without permission. Finally, she got up and put on her pajamas, unsatisfied. She wore panties. I went to bed wondering how to play my next card. If I did it right, she would never wear panties again. The next morning, I watched her on the monitor. She didn't use the bathroom, which was pretty normal. It made it easier for her to wet herself when I arrived. But this time, about ten minutes before I was due to come in, she changed herself into a diaper. Then she put her jeans back on over them. When I came into the foyer, Judith was already on her feet. She hurried over to the same place she always stood, a little blush on her cheeks. "Wet yourself," I said simply. A moment passed. A few. I could see the blush on Judith's cheeks getting redder and redder. "Judith," I said. "I told you to wet yourself." "I did, Nana..." she muttered under her breath, unable to look at me. "I don't see a wet spot on your jeans. I don't see a puddle at your feet. I don't hear the dripping sounds of a princess who is so helpless she can't even control her own potty habits." "I... uh..." Judith's voice dropped a little, from muttering to a near-whisper. "I'm... wearing a diaper..." My eyes lit up in theatrical joy. "Oh you are? My goodness, what a good girl! And why are you wearing a diaper, sweetheart?" "Because..." I could read the words in Judith's mind: because you told me to. Because it's what you want. But she knew that wasn't what I wanted to hear, and I left her so needy last night. "Because... I keep having accidents," Judith sighed, looking away. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment. "Oh, that's right! You keep having accidents, and so you shouldn't be trusted in panties anymore. Right?" "Nana..." Judith whined. "Right?" I asked again. "Right..." she sighed. I could have pushed her a little bit more in that moment, but I decided against it. Instead, I stepped up to her and started to unbutton her jeans. She stood there, embarrassed, as I slipped them to the floor. I took one look at her diaper, swollen between her legs, and clicked my tongue, shaking my head side to side. "Did you put this diaper on yourself? The tapes are so uneven. I'm surprised you didn't leak all over the floor!" "I... uh..." Judith had probably never once thought about the shame of putting a diaper on wrong. Now she had something to strive toward. A pride of being diapered, a pride of doing it properly. "You just need more practice, right sweetheart? That's what you were trying to say?" "I guess..." "Well, I can't let you stay in this diaper," I sighed. "Let's get you changed." I led Judith to the bedroom and changed her out of her wet diaper. I'd changed her into diapers dozens of times, but this was only the second time I'd changed her out of a wet one. And, of course, into a new diaper. Judith didn't argue. She didn't complain. She didn't fight me. But I did catch her watching me as I pulled the diaper up between her legs. Before I pulled one of the tabs up, I paused. "Would you like to learn how to put on your diaper?" I asked. I was kind and sincere, but the words themselves embarrassed Judith. Her diaper. "Uh... sure..." "No, no. You should ask if you want something. Can you do that for me?" "Nana..." Judith muttered. But then she said: "Can you... please show me how to put on a diaper...?" "Of course, princess." I centered her body on the seat and pulled the diaper up between her legs again. "First step... make sure you're in the middle of your diaper. If you pull up the wings, they should be about the same length on each side. Then, when you pull the front up, make sure it comes up to about here, where your belly button is. Are you paying attention?" "Yes, Nana..." she mumbled. "Then you pull one wing up, and tape the bottom one first. You want it to point up a little, toward you. Like this. And then do the same for the other side. Not too tight, okay?" "Yes, Nana..." "Then the top ones come across like this. They point a little bit down, and they should feel secure around your waist. Stick it about here, and then the same on the other side. And there you go! All diapered! Now what do you say?" "Thank you, Nana..." "Good girl." I helped sit Judith up. She was still wearing her shirt. "You can keep your top on today," I said, "since you didn't get your clothes all wet. If you get really good at putting on your diapers, maybe you can keep your jeans too!" "Yes, Nana..." Judith wouldn't look at me. She was blushing furiously. I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed that she had done a bad job, or that she had to ask for help. Either way, it worked in my favor. "Let's go play a game. You have board games upstairs, right?" Judith looked at me forlornly. She had obviously hoped to have a more intimate day, but she was so obedient in that moment that she nodded her head. Judith got Candyland from the upstairs closet. We played a few games, and she never seemed to pull the right cards. I thought that was charming, since she could have pulled whatever card she wanted if she wasn't locked down by her own submission. I won every game because she wanted me to win every game. After we finished the game, I decided to play my own card. "Princess... I've been thinking. Do you remember yesterday, when we talked about your diaper being like a collar?" "Uh... yeah, I remember," Judith blushed. "Well, a pet doesn't take their collar off. They wear it all the time." "I have to take it off sometimes," Judith said, already anticipating what I was going to say. "I know, I know. And I'm not always here to change you. But... well, you wear them most of the day anyway, don't you? And you've worn them to bed. So..." "I have to change sometimes," Judith repeated. With a sigh, I reached over and took her pacifier from the clip on her shirt. I stuck it in her mouth to shut her up. She pouted and sucked on the teat. "I want you to wear diapers all the time," I said plainly. "You can change when you need to, and you can still use the bathroom. But no more panties. I want to know that you're always collared. And I want you to remember you belong to me." Judith was quiet for a moment, not that she had a choice. I waited an appropriate amount of time, for her embarrassment to simmer down. Then I pulled the pacifier from her mouth. She took a moment to speak, planning her words carefully: "I wanna have sex." I blinked. Well, that wasn't what I expected... "If I'm gonna wear diapers all the time," Judith went on, "then I wanna have sex." "So, what you're saying..." I said slowly, "is that you'll trade away all your underwear, if I make you cum in your diaper?" It was Judith's turn to blink in surprise. She didn't think about it that way. She didn't think of those words in that order. She didn't think about the meaning of her trade. But what I'd said... I wasn't wrong. That's what Judith wanted. "I... guess so," Judith blushed. "But not just once! Every few days, or..." "Five times," I interrupted. Judith stared at me with bewilderment. Just five times. Five orgasms in her diapers, in exchange for the promise to never wear panties again. I wondered if she even considered the option of leaving, that none of my rules would apply if she could get out of the fake hospital. That she could get five orgasms, then the very next day remember everything I needed from her and leave. Did she even want that? "I... I don't..." "Five times," I said again. "Five times, whenever you want. At your request. You say the word, I make it happen. Five times, five little moments of control. You'll do things my way, but you'll get to decide when." Judith drew little circles on the Candyland board. She was thinking. She bit her lip. It had been over a week since she'd had an orgasm. She'd worn so many diapers since that time... "F-fine..." Judith mumbled, her cheeks rosy like on a winter's night. "Deal," I said happily. For me, it was a win-win. I could have her in diapers all the time, and I had five more instances of conditioning her. But some things are just too good to be true. I should have bargained for four, because five was a mistake. "Now," she said flatly. "Now?" I asked. "You're sure?" "Now," she said again. So I leaned forward on my knees and pushed her flat against the living room carpet. I crawled on top of her, snaking my hands up her thighs, against the front of her diaper, and up under her shirt. I squeezed her breast as my knee pushed against the padding between her legs. She shivered and let out a moan. "Good girl," I whispered, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers with the force of a hurricane. When I pulled away, she looked dizzy and out of breath. I crossed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. The other reached down and bushed the plastic of her diaper. Crinkling echoed through the room. I leaned in close to her face and started to rub the front of her diaper. Already, her arousal was overwhelming her. She looked up at me with glossy eyes, and I said: "I'm going to make you cum in your diaper, princess. Because you love them so much. And when I'm done, you and I are going to walk into your room, empty out your underwear drawer, and cut each pair up into shreds. Just like your autonomy. Just like your freedom. Into shreds." Judith's whimpers were a mix of arousal and humiliation. "You're going to help," I whispered. "You're going to help destroy your adulthood. Can you do that for me?" Judith nodded her head, lost in the bliss of my hand and the diaper between her legs. "Yes, Nana..."

Sofia is biased. She is actively waiting on pins and needles for the next chapter at another location. She is also the reason I even know about this site. She convinced me to post it here. ~o~O~o~ Katie Ann What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Six: Sign That Life Away Kathleen took a pen out of her bag and, for better or worse, initialed the articles and signed and dated the contract. When that was done, she also initialed the appendices before putting her pen away. With her life signed away, she turned to sign her body away to Owner. She noticed it was mostly filled out, turning her health care over to Owner. “And my father, if Owner is not available!” she exclaimed. She wondered how Owner got her father's first name and her home telephone number. Continuing reading, she noticed the end-of-life questions the cover sheet talked about, the do not resuscitate line was crossed off, she must stay connected to life support, and her organs would be donated. Signing and dating that one, she turned to the revocation form. All she had to do was sign it. It was dated in the future for August thirty-first of the following year, which was the end of her servitude. Her body signed away, and she then turned to the example sheet. It listed examples of the changes specified in the document. It also specified that changes were not limited to these examples. Temporary examples were clothes, makeup, face painting, and lifestyle. She didn’t see a problem with most of that. She was a little leery about the last one, but not enough to scare her. Semi-permanent examples were hairstyle, color, and length. She remembered that the papers gave Owner exclusive control over them. She just hoped that Owner didn’t make her look like a clown or bald. Thinking about her hair appointment, she had scheduled for next week. Owner might raise an exception with that. She sent Owner a text message, “Owner, Girl has hair app. for 8/25, but Art. 3 gives you exclusive rights to my hair, but it is before 9/1. Would you like Girl to cancel it?” Returning to the examples, she discovered that permanent examples were intentional wounds, tattoos, and piercings. She didn’t think any of those would be a problem, contract or no contract. She didn’t expect any of those would happen. The next set of examples were the medically necessary changes; it was probably the longest list. Some of the examples were unintentional wounds, eyeglasses, broken bones, vaccinations, all the way down to chemotherapy. She noticed it listed medicine, and then on the following line, it listed birth control. She felt that oddly strange. She noticed, glancing back at the legal documents, that she remembered article five and the power of attorney forms. Owner or herself could make any medically necessary changes to herself. The contract and power of attorney gave him complete control over her. She just hoped he didn’t abuse that control. Flipping to the next page, the questionnaire, she started to read it. It asked for items like her exact measurements, items she didn’t have a clue what they were or how to get them. The next item was if she was allergic to anything. She could answer no to that, at least as far as she knew. Medicine was the subsequent information that Owner wanted to know about. She didn’t need any pills currently. In the same vane, it wanted to know about any medical issues. Buttercup wrote down that she sometimes gets light-headed and has headaches. She also wrote down the elephant in the room, which was dwarfism, something she hates to say or even admit. “Wow, Owner wants to know a huge amount of stuff, like behavior issues, mental issues, and favorite color.” She answered with hints of shyness, none known, and lavender, respectively. She was also asked about smoking, alcohol, and drug habits, something she could definitely answer no to each of those. Looking at the time, she was surprised to find it was almost one. She had better get lunch before they stopped serving soon. She thought that the measurements and copying would have to wait. Gathering up the mountain of paperwork, she put it in her bag and ran out of the room. “WALK!” came a disembodied shout from the checkout desk. Dropping down to a fast walk, she continued out of the library, picking up to a run again once she was outside. Slowing down to cross the street, she ran across campus to Reynolds Hall, which was the food hall for the college. Screeching to a stop at the ID desk, she checked in for lunch. She was starting to feel dizzy and a hint of a headache, typical results of getting her heart pumping. Walking to her cluster's regular table, she placed her bag down and sat down to wait for the lightheadedness to go away. “KATHLEEN, you don’t look so good,” her cluster-mate, Tiffany, said in a worried tone. Kathleen replied, “I just ran,“ a huff of breath, “from the,” a huff of breath, “library, I,” a huff of breath, “will be fine,” a huff of breath, “in five,” huff of breath, “minutes, Tiff.” Looking at the time, Tiffany said, “Lunch will end soon. Do you want me to go pick up something?” Between huffs of breath, the reply was, “Please.” “What do you want? To drink?” “Anything," huff of breath, “Not a big,” huff of breath, “plate.” After she got her breath back, she noticed that Tiffany had set a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich on it, with a pudding cup and a fruit cup on the side. Next to it was a glass that looked like it had apple juice in it. Tasting it. Yes, it was apple juice. “Thank you. I lost track of time,” she said to Tiffany, who was just finishing up her plate. She continued, “Tiff, you are in theater costumes, right?” Not sure where Kath was going with this, Tiff answered hesitantly, “Yeah, Kath.” “Can you measure me? Someone wants them, and I don’t know them,” she said between bites of her sandwich. With a breath of relief, Tiff replied, “Sure, I was afraid you were going to ask me to make you something. Right after lunch, ok?” Nodding, Kath continued with her lunch. The two girls ambled across campus to Whitlatter Hall. Tiffany was purposely slowing Kathleen down, seeing how the little girl had really scared Tiff. She really had thought the girl was on her deathbed. Walking into the cluster, Tiff told Kath, “Put your swimsuit on, please, so we can get accurate measurements.” Heading to her dorm room to do the requested task, she heard Tiff request her step stool, too. After changing, she gathered up the questionnaire and step stool, then headed across the hall. She promptly heard a whistle, “Nice suit, Kath,” and “Looking good!” from the common room. Red with embarrassment, she knocked on Tiffany’s room door, which rewarded her with “Come In.” Taking the stool from Kath, Tiffany set it down in the middle of the room and patted it, indicating Kathleen was supposed to get on it. She then took the paper from Kath’s hands. Glancing at it, she noticed the measurements section and then all the other questions. “Wow, Kath, this form asks lots of personal questions. What is it for?” As she was stepping up on the stool, she glanced at the now-closed door and weighed her options. She really needed those measurements, and she couldn’t think of a lie that would make sense. With a whisper, she said, “Information my Owner wants.” As soon as she uttered those words from her lips, the pause in the room was notable, as was Tiffany's lack of movement to start measuring her. She looked down at Kath, and the seriousness in her eyes let her know that a little more than ‘my Owner’ would be needed. "I know, and I will tell the whole story," Kath spoked softly to Tiff. As Tiff started to measure Kath, her silence was broken as she assumed the role of sister, mother, or counselor. "How old is he or she," Tiff stated while continuing to measure and jot down figures. “He, 25” “Now let's hear the whole story, young lady,” Tiffany instructed, putting the tape around Kathleen’s waist. As she told the story from the beginning, Kathleen noticed that Tiffany was writing numbers down twice. Wondering why, she asked with curiosity, “Why are you keeping a copy of my measurements?” In the process of putting the fabric tape around Kath’s head, Tiffany answered, “I get sick of doing class projects to a dress form. Sometimes, it is nice to make it to a friend's size.” After telling Kath to spread her legs a bit, Tiff ran the tape from her shoulder, down her back, between her legs, and up her front to her shoulder. “Tiff, what was that measurement? It felt so weird!” “It is your girth, used primarily to make leotards and bodysuits,” was the answer Kath received. “Step down and stand up straight against the wall,” Tiffany continued. After her height measurement was done, Kathleen noticed that Tiffany wrote down fifty-two and a quarter, even shorter than she had thought she was. She was then asked to sit on the bed with her feet out. “Tiffany, that tickles,” she exclaimed when the tape measurer was placed against the bottom of her feet. Tiffany just mumbled, “Sorry,” as she wrote down, ‘AA,’ then went to a stack of books on her desk. Pulling one out, she flipped to a chart and, after running her finger down it, wrote seven slash eight on the questionnaire. Flipping a few pages, she wrote two on the paper. Finally flipping to another table, she put her finger on the bottom and then shook her head. “What were those, Tiff?” Tiffany, still staring at the last chart, said, “You are an AA cup, and you wear a girl’s size seven - eight, and your shoe size is a children’s two, and finally, the paper wants your adult size, but you are below the scale.” “I usually wear a size four in shoes and a Juniors extra small.” “Those both are big on you, right? The Juniors are more than big on you,” Tiff said while looking at the Junior's chart. Kathleen could only nod her head while looking at her feet. Looking at the paper next to her, she saw that it was entirely filled out, and Tiffany had put less than Junior XS on the paper. “Thank you, Tiff.” “Don’t mention it. Just expect a call to be a dress dummy for a class sometime this year,” Tiffany said with a smirk while padding the other paper. “Now, young lady, you don’t move from that spot while I go to your room and get this contract. Do you hear me?” Tiffany’s seriousness returned as she instructed Kathleen to stay put. Meekly, Kath nodded. After asking where it was, Tiffany went across the cluster to get the forms. Returning, she sat down next to the little meek girl, running her hand on the girl's back like a big sister would do to comfort her little sister as she read the legal documents. Truthfully, the two girls were the same age, but because of the height differences, Tiffany thought of herself as Kathleen’s big sister. You could have heard a pin drop in the room between Tiffany’s ‘Oohs’ and ‘Umms.’ Finally done reading, Tiffany finally spoke, “He is a lawyer, isn’t he? It isn’t as bad as I envisioned at first. He appears to have your best interest at heart in some of these articles.” Pausing for a breath, she flipped back to an article in the contract, “What GPA do you normally average for a semester?” “Just under four, why?” Tiffany, showing a slight hint of jealousy, pointed out, “The contract rewards you seven hundred and fifty dollars per semester if you make at least a three-point-eight!” Kathleen, who had not noticed that fine print, was shocked. Tiffany continued slowly, “On the other hand, if you don’t keep your total GPA above a three or stay full-time, your bottom is going to be doubly sore,” while looking at the same article. The little girl just stared at her fascinating feet. Examining the stack of papers some more, Tiff slowly said, as she pinched the top of her nose, “I will allow it, not happy about the health care though. I will be watching you, and if I see anything suspicious or scary I will give this address to the authorities,” as she wrote Adam’s address down on a piece of paper. Holding onto the documents, she told Kathleen, “I want a copy of these,” before handing the papers to Kathleen. Mentioning she was thinking of swimming since she was already dressed for it, after stopping at the post office, Kathleen left the room. Receiving another round of catcalls for the common room, she went to her room, got dressed, and grabbed her bag after returning the envelope to it. She stopped at the library on the way to the post office to make two copies of the legal documents and forms. Placing the originals in the return envelope, she included a copy of her schedule and the copy receipt for his share before sealing the envelope. She stared at the envelope, trying to get her feet to work. Now that it was done, she was scared of her future. Ding went her phone, grabbing it, she saw it was from Master, scratch that, Owner. “Buttercup, sorry, I was in court today. Please cancel the appointment. Owner will take care of that from now on. What is Girl doing?” “Staring at a sealed envelope, trying to work up the courage to walk to the post office.” “It is a big step, isn’t it? Giving life control away is not the same as online. I promised not to abuse power. And I hope you like what I do, too.” Walking out of the library, she texted, “I am going! Going to the swimming pool afterward.” “Classes tomorrow?” “Yes, the first one is at 10 o’clock,” she types hesitantly, walking into the post office. “Bedtime is 9:30, enjoy the pool, Buttercup.” After handing the envelope to the same lady as earlier, she sent a text to Owner that the envelope was sent. Leaving the post office, she started skipping to the field house. ~o~O~o~ Author's Note: Comments, and questions are always welcomed.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Three: Cheeky Little Submissive “Kathleen, you have a phone call from an Allison,” her mother yelled from the kitchen, which caused Kathleen to run to the phone. “Hello Allison, nice to hear from you,” she answered. … “Yes, I will be there sometime in the afternoon on the Thirteenth.” … “Good to hear.” … “Yes, I was in the same hall last year. The Whitlatter is a cluster-style girls' dorm with eight to ten rooms around a central common room. Our particular cluster is ten rooms.” … “No, each room has its own bathroom, and each room has two of everything: a closet, a desk, a dresser, and, of course, a bed for each girl.” … “Yes, the desks have internet connections, and there is WiFi in the dorm.” … “The common sitting rooms have a small kitchenette, and television, through the channels, leaves a lot to be desired.” … “Where did you transfer from?” … “Nice to know. It was nice to talk to you, talk to you on the thirteenth.” … “You too,” Kathleen replied before hanging up the phone. Wandering back to her laptop in her bedroom, she noticed that she had about three messages from Master, one that quizzed her if she was ready for bed, and two that asked, “Are you actually there?” with a buzz. She answered Master with, “Master, Buttercup, sorry about the interruption. Her college roommate called her. Buttercup will get ready for bed now.” She didn’t have to wait long for Master’s reply, “Master will excuse Buttercup this time.” The message was followed by a winking smile. She ran to get ready for bed, just in the silly case Master was omnipresent. She had already left him in mid-conversation to talk to her roommate on the phone. She didn’t want to upset him more. Coming back from the bathroom, she typed on the computer, “Buttercup is ready for bed.” “*patting Buttercup on the head* Very good behaving Buttercup. Does my girl have any plans for tomorrow?” “I will do my normal five hours of volunteering tomorrow.” “What time do you start, and often do you do that?” “I usually start at the zoo opening at nine a.m. Usually Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and sometimes Sundays.” “Since you volunteer, what does Buttercup do for income?” “Buttercup has a nice allowance from her parents. Not many places want to hire someone who looks like a grade school student.” “What does Girl want to do for a living after college?” “A veterinarian or a zookeeper.” “Thanks for the information, Buttercup. Master believes it is Buttercup’s nine-thirty bedtime.” With a quiet squeak, almost like a mouse, she quickly looked at the time before replying, “Yes, Sir.” With that, she logged off her laptop and crawled in bed, feeling loved. ~o~O~o~ Walking into the volunteer office, she greeted Mr. Cooper, “Sorry, I am late. I was pulled over for underage driving.” Sighing, she continued, “What would you like me to display?” “Calm down, Kathleen, you don’t have any assigned hours, or for that matter, assigned days. That being said, I will gladly take any hours you can give me,” Mr. Cooper answered. Continuing, he said, “It's supposed to be nice today, so the zoo should be busy today. You could either make a selection of furs and display them near the Polar Bear exhibit, preferably in view of the gift shop.” After breathing, he suggested, “The other idea is to hand out brushes and sell goat food in the petting zoo.” Thinking to herself, Kathleen thought about how much fun the goats could be and how heavy a table would be to drag to the polar bear area. She was a submissive. She didn’t like making choices, so she asked, “Is a table already set up at the Polar Bear area?” “No, but if you choose that option, I arrange it to be set up for you, so you don’t have to do it.” “Darn, there goes the easy out option. Now I actually have to decide,” Kathleen thought to herself. “I guess I will go pet the goats,” Kathleen finally said with a smirk. Shaking his finger, he said, “You are supposed to work, not cuddle the animals, young lady,” Mark chuckled. Picking up a two-way radio, he said, “V1 to KK1, over.” “KK1 answering,” squelched the radio. Mark replied, “Expect Kathleen. She is going to help with the brushes and feed in the goat area for a few hours.” “Roger,” Kathleen heard as she started her walk towards the Kids' Korner. Once she got to the booth that supplied brushes and feed, she let herself in. The red-headed teenage girl in the booth inquired, “So you are the famous Kathleen I have heard about.” “I wouldn’t say famous,” Kathleen mentioned with a blush, looking at the nametag on her blue shirt, “Heather. What would you like me to do?” “We are getting low on premade doses of feed. Could you make some?” “Sure,” was her reply as she started to do the task she was asked to do. She switched over to handing out brushes after the feed was restocked. “How much for a brush?” a guest asked her. “Free, with a non-monetary collateral deposit,” was Kathleen's, by now, well-rehearsed answer. Which rewarded her with a set of car keys in exchange for a brush. “Please put your name on this paper so we can make sure you get them back.” ~o~O~o~ After five hours in the booth, she stepped out of the booth with a brush in her hand. Going up to April, the goat, she started to brush it. After about three minutes of brushing, she heard a giggle from the booth. “You've been wanting to do that for hours, admit it,” Heather chuckled between her giggles. Embarrassed, she handed the brush back to Heather and then started her journey to Mr. Cooper’s office. “Five hours and fifteen minutes today, Kathleen?” Mark asked. Kathleen replied, “Better make it ten minutes,” thinking of the time she spent brushing the goat. “Still twenty minutes both ways?” Kathleen nodded as she started to head to the parking lot. ~o~O~o~ “Dinner,” came the call from the dining room. Meandering her way to the table, she noticed that dinner today was Beef and Noodles with Brussels sprouts. Her mother was already scooping a small portion of each for her. Setting her partial glass of Peach Tea down, she sat down at the table. “Are you volunteering tomorrow and Saturday?” her father, George, asked. She replied, “Tomorrow is my last day for this year. I figured Saturday would be good for loading the two cars. I should say goodbye to Zoe and Ann, too. I might see if they want to see that new Pirates of the Caribbean movie tomorrow night.” “When do we have to be in Mountain?” her mother, Marlene, asked. “We can pick up the room keys from noon to five.” Returning to her bedroom, she sent messages to Ann and Zoe, suggesting the movie tomorrow. She also sent a one to Master that she was back from dinner, which was met with silence. “Sounds good with me. Johnny Depp is dreamy. I am assuming I am driving,” was Zoe’s reply. Kathleen replied, “Unless you want to experience being pulled over for underage driving, though it has already happened this week, so I’m not due for it.” A frown was the reply Kathleen received. Ann’s answer came about five minutes later, “Sure, make sure you bring your ID,” with a smirking face. After online conversations were done, she returned to her current book, ‘Fablehaven.’ After about thirty minutes of reading, her laptop buzzed. Opening the lid, she saw a message from Master, “Buttercup, sorry I missed your message. I had to run to the post office before they closed for the day.” “Buttercup will excuse it this time,” with a tongue sticking out face was Kathleen’s reply. After she sent it, she immediately regretted it. “Cheeky little submissive!” was Master’s scolding answer, “Turn that webcam on, Buttercup.” Kathleen eepped and turned the requested webcam on, then knelt in front of the laptop. “Aim the camera at the corner and locate yourself there. Master will buzz when you can get out of it.” Doing the requested aiming, she went to the corner, placing her nose squarely in the corner. After what seemed to her to be like fifteen minutes, her laptop buzzed. Looking at the time, she noticed it was only about five minutes. Kneeling, with her hands behind her back in front of the computer, she waited for Master’s message. “What was Buttercup doing before she got herself in trouble?” “Reading Fablehaven.” Master proceeded to quiz what Buttercup’s plans were for Friday through Sunday and when college classes started. When she told him about the Friday movie plans, he asked when the movie would be finished. “We are going to the eight P.M. showing, it is a two-and-a-half hour movie, so ten-thirty.” “So Buttercup will be up past her bedtime by almost two hours?” Gulping, Buttercup replied, “Yes, Sir.” “Buttercup will come straight home and send Master a text to let him know when Buttercup is crawling in bed.” The message concluded with his phone number. The next message she got made her yelp loudly and have a lump in her throat. “Buttercup has fifteen minutes to get ready for bed. Don’t close the webcam. We will talk after Girl is dressed for bed.” Grabbing her pajamas, she headed for the bathroom to do her before-bed routine. Walking back into the room and kneeling in front of the computer, she saw it took her fourteen minutes. Breathing a sigh of relief, she waited for Master’s reply. “Very good, my Buttercup. Master is interested in why Girl left her online game and went looking for an online/offline?” With that questioning, Kathleen started a long discussion about Baron, the game, and the lost account. She was being so long-winded with it that she didn’t notice when it hit nine-thirty, and Master didn’t actually send her to bed until nine-forty-five. ~o~O~o~ Author's Note: Comments, and questions are always welcomed. I am currently writing chapter 69 of this story. -- Thanks Becky

Mistake Seven Saying goodbye to Judith was an ordeal. She even asked if our kiss was the reason I was leaving, which was something I wanted to avoid. I didn't want her cards on the table, but it felt like I was forcing her hand. Thankfully, she wouldn't remember any of it. I had to hire a replacement to babysit her while I was away. He would take over her lessons, and I'd given him explicit instructions on how to keep her out of trouble. All he had to do was stall for time, until I got back. Thankfully, she wouldn't remember any of that either. I didn't arrive at Academy I until late the following night. I was exhausted, but Eli sent over a filing cabinet with reports on all the candidates - or Candies, I guess - and my curiosity got the best of me. Candies was a clever word; cute enough to identify with, and veiled enough to be misleading. I wished I had been the one to come up with it. I sure didn't go through 1508 files (the number was printed on a card on the front of the cabinet), but I went through a few that mattered. Ai Sinclair. Age 25. There was a photo in her file. Asian-American. Brown eyes. Long, dark hair. And that same blank expression every Candy had in their file. That picture was taken after the first Touch. Next page. #1091. One of the newer ones? And she was already causing so much trouble. Likelihood: 61%. Anything over ten percent was a cause for concern. Penny didn't believe in 100%, not when it came to people. She always said "anything more likely than a coin toss is all but certain sooner or later". I read on. Transferred from Academy V. Despite our attempts, we are unable to locate the Chariot. #1091 will find it for us. Ah, right. The Chariot. In less cryptic terms: will. It was the one thing we couldn't control with the markers, so we needed to find the right candidate to be the will of the Academy. Ai might have been an Arcana magnet, but I didn't see how she would help us with that. The final note in her file was "Watch her, and never let her near #254." Interesting. I put Ai's file back in the cabinet and went looking for #254. Unfortunately, the whole cabinet was organized alphabetically by last name. It took me an hour to find the right one, in the last drawer. Kione Williams. Age 27. Black. Brown eyes. Dark, curly hair. She was cute. I flipped the page. #254. Likelihood: 92%. Fuck. Transferred from Academy R. History of visual and auditory hallucinations. Disconnect with reality reduces the efficacy of Touches. The markers didn't work on her? Wow, Eli really did have his hands full. I read on. Transferred from Academy B. Designated: High Priestess. I didn't know tarot all that well, but Penny gave us all a crash course when the markers were handed out. I knew enough to get by. The High Priestess was the guardian of the subconscious. She was a teacher of hidden truths. The Magician was her counterpart, an embodiment of the tangible world. The power to create something real from nothing at all. If Ai was the Magician, it made sense that she wasn't allowed anywhere near Kione. Everything was really coming together, wasn't it? Everything we worked for... and it all came down to picking the right two people. The next morning, I dressed in a white coat and put on my reading glasses. I wanted to look smart, like I knew what I was doing. Honestly though? I was just winging it. "You know the rules?" one of the orderlies asked me. "I do." "If you need any help—" "That won't be necessary," I said simply. The orderly nodded and let me into the warmly lit room. I looked down at the sleeping girl on the bed. She was wearing a pink shirt with puffy sleeves and had a diaper taped around her hips. She looked so helpless. This was going to be fun. Her eyes flickered open. She saw me first. She looked at her surroundings. Then she tried to say something, but the pacifier between her lips kept her silent. She reached a trembling hand to her lips, but found the pacifier stuck in place. "Easy there, munchkin," I cooed as her eyes flickered open. "Try not to move too much now, not while you're still coming to." I watched her tug at the pacifier, but it was full of creamy pink liquid: a helpful little tool the Academy had at its disposal. I wouldn't have used it on Judith, but here things were different. Academy I wasn't about making friends. "I'll be happy to remove your binkie," I said, watching her eyebrows pull together at the word 'binkie'. "But you need to promise you'll be good for me. Do you promise?" Ai stared at me. Then she looked down at her outfit. At the diaper between her legs, decorated with baby blocks and teddy bears. When I saw her start to panic, I put my finger to the button of her pacifier and a few drops of that creamy pink liquid dripped into her mouth. Instantly, she calmed down and her eyes glossed over. So. Easy. "Like any adjustment," I said, "this is going to take time. It's going to be scary at times, but the better you behave, the sooner it's going to become easy, and then normal. You can fight every step of the way, or you can lean into the help provided and be a good girl. Either way, the destination will be the same - only your journey will change." I watched Ai's face contort with confusion. It didn't matter if she understood what I was saying; she would very soon. But she started to tug on her pacifier again. Such blatant disobedience. So I pushed the pacifier again and her eyes drooped. "You have quite the resistance," I said, tilting my head. She must have had a lot of pink milk in Academy V - her tolerance was rather high. I snapped my fingers, took out the marker, and touched it to Ai's forehead. Academy I was all about memory and time manipulation; I could use the snap of my fingers to turn her consciousness on or off whenever I needed to. She was putty in my hands. Or so I thought. I shouldn't have underestimated Ai Sinclair.

Same, I wear 24/7 usually and will definitely go in public but I won’t offend anyone. I usually leave right away. I hate public bathrooms so I won’t go in one. I admit that I do enjoy going in public.

I mess my diaper on purpose all the time, I always know if I need to go shit, I just never take the time to run to the bathroom to go shit as I'm always wearing a diaper, so I just go shit whenever it needs to happen, does not bother me if I'm out in public, at work or at home, if I need to go shit I just go shit.