Leaderboard

Chapter 97: Faulty I FELT LIKE that electric zap feeling I’d felt before was even more intense, and I felt my bladder send out a wave of urine into the diaper I wore. “Son of a…” I almost cursed but caught myself, “That hurt!!!” “Are you okay?” Gary asked me with concern. I shook my head and wrung my hands a little since they tingled. “I think so? Did they revert everything?” I realized my voice definitely did not sound like my Connor voice. “We’ll have to check visually,” Gary said, “But while my tablet said they were sent the code to revert and deactivate, I think you’re still Carly?” “I’m going to call his grandmother,” Beth said. Nikki reappeared right then and said, “Already called her, Beth. She should be here any…” “Connor?” Grandma came through right then. “I was already on my way up here. What’s going on?” “I think something went wrong?” I said to her. “You activated the revert state already?” Grandma asked Gary. “This says it activated?” Grandma looked at the screen for a few minutes before saying, “Okay, I’m going to need to take her and get this sorted out. Are you guys done for the day?” “Yes,” Charlotte said. “We’re done filming?” “Beth, why don’t you get changed and show me where you have Carly’s clothes? We’ll get this figured out…” She looked at Gary, “Would you ask Professor Ponce to call me? She oversaw the treatment?” “She did,” Gary said. “Good, tell her to call me.” Grandma carried me into the changing room, and I noted she was acting differently than usual. There was a ‘business’ face she wore, and I guessed that meant there was a serious problem. ‘Shit,’ I thought to myself. “This is a cute dress,” Grandma said. “Thanks,” I said, “I can’t say I picked it out?” “No, but it looks cute on you,” she said. “Do you think they’d mind if you wore it out? It would save us some time here?” Gary popped in right then, “Ponce said she’s going to call you.” “Thanks. Do you mind if Connor just wears this out?” He shook his head, “That’s fine. We have a backup, and I think we’re done filming anyway.” “We’ll return it,” she told him. “That’s fine, either way,” he replied. Grandma dug in my bag for one of the spare diapers she’d stashed that morning, changing what was a pretty soaked diaper then. Along with Nikki and Beth following us, Grandma carried me rapidly to the Kilby Center, where she wasted no time taking us to a lab as her phone rang. She activated the HoloProjector feature and said, “Good afternoon, Professor.” “Hi Amanda, what’s going on?” “The nanites you used... Were they actually the ones I sent you last week? Your student tried the revert function on them, but they failed to change him back? I need all the information on how they were programmed and what generation they were otherwise?” “Amanda, those were the exact ones you sent me! Did anything happen at all when the revert was activated? That should have been foolproof?” “My grandson got a pretty big electric shock, according to him and the witnesses.” “I have no idea why that would have happened? We use them all the time?” “I have a few ideas,” Grandma told him, “but I need more information.” “I’ll log into my account and send you the data I have in a couple minutes? It should be the same, but you can take a look.” “Thank you,” she said and hung up. “Connor, just sit down on this for a few minutes,” she told me while placing me on something that looked sort of like a scale but was easily wide enough to sit cross-legged. I watched her do some things with a tablet for a moment before saying, “Tessa?” Right then, the hologram I thought now only lived at her house appeared in the room. “What’s going on Amanda?” “We have a problem with the nanites changing Carly back to Connor. Can you please run a scan and let me know what nanites are active inside of her right now?” “Certainly, just a minute,” the hologram said. “What do you think is going on?” I asked her, even as I saw Beth and Nikki sit on some stools near the table she’d sat me down on. “I don’t want to say until I know something more; give me just a few minutes here,” she told me. “No matter what, you’re not going to die,” she assured me. “Well, until you said that, I wasn’t thinking in those terms,” I said nervously. She stroked my hair, then said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” We waited for a long minute before Tessa rematerialized and started a display up in front of us. “There are currently three types of nanites inside of Carly. The first kind is completely inert and inactive. I believe they are type TH4111A and are typically used by the theater department to adjust actors and actresses to better fit roles. Next is a type designated LG141B, which is attributed to being a part of LittleGo Plus serum?” “Excuse me?” Grandma said, “Those are still inside her and active?” “That is correct, Amanda.” “And the last type?” I asked. “They’re a weird hybrid of an outdated type A42 that I believe was used when Stacy was here? They’re not quite the same, though, as they’ve had some modifications?” “Well, now we know,” Grandma sighed. “Tessa, can you run an analysis of Carly for the concentration of the Casein Protein I have tagged for incontinence?” Tessa was over thirty years old, and it took her a second, but she said, “The concentration is quite high, Amanda; there’s a significant build-up in the Pontine Micturition Centers. From my analysis, I believe those centers are completely coated and blocked from signal transmission.” “Guess I’m going to be in diapers for a while,” I groaned. “Looks that way, sweetheart,” she said, squeezing me in a tight hug. “Okay, we may be able to solve this, but it won’t be solved any time soon…” “You sent Ponce other nanites for me?” I asked her. She looked sheepish, “Your mom and I wanted to ensure it was safe since we knew you were planning on using them… We never dreamed they wouldn’t work? Or that those others would go active?” “So what do we do about school?” I asked. “That is an excellent question,” Grandma said. “Let’s go to my office so I can send a few emails, and then we’ll go home. I need to call your aunt too…” “Why?” “You’re going to need some new clothes, and I don’t think we have time to go to the mall today.” I tried not to smile at that; her following statement helped. “Especially since we’ll also need to stop by the grocery store and pick up some more packs of diapers. You won’t be wearing training pants while that protein has everything blocked off…” And with that, my mood instantly plummeted! BETH HAD WATCHED quietly from the side, even as Nikki had slipped out to use the restroom. She knew something terrible had to have happened the moment Carly had screamed earlier. She’d suspected something was wrong, though, ever since her accidents began. As she watched Amanda work, she thought she was putting the pieces together pretty well from what was said. Clearly, Carly could tell things were not good on the potty front, as her cute face fell so hard at the knowledge she wouldn’t be wearing training pants anymore. At that, Beth decided to do what she could and crossed the room to pick up her… girlfriend from the scanner and cuddled her in her arms. She wiped a tear from her pudgy face then and realized that if the nanites weren’t changing, Carly would be stuck with a baby face. It was hard to get the full view as she held her, but Beth grimaced internally for the poor girl who was now every Big’s dream adoptee. Carly’s hair was blonde and definitely ‘cute’ even without the color being as light as possible. ‘She’s probably the kind of person who could just be out in the sun for a summer, though, and it would bleach,’ she thought while running a hand through the back of her hair and following Amanda to her office. When they set up the nanites to work on her, there had been a very accurate decision that she wouldn’t have breasts, and just child hips still, so no signs she was an adult. If anything, most people would assume she was a Tweener or a Big’s child about six months to one year of age at most. ‘Crawling to toddling if they were lucky’ for that milestone. They closed Amanda’s door behind them. Beth noted that Nikki had seen them but had chosen to stay outside the office. “Do you have anything you need to get done right now? Homework?” Amanda suddenly asked her as she sat on the office couch and held Carly on her lap, leaning against her chest. She shook her head, “I knew the project would take the weekend, so I got ahead on everything for tomorrow and most of the week.” “Okay,” she sighed, “just checking since this will take a bit. Carly, how is that diaper doing?” Carly jolted upright in her arms and blushed, “I think it’s wet?” “Beth, decision time; I know you two are a thing… Are you comfortable helping her out with these?” “Comfortable?” She found herself saying along with Carly. “Checking her at least right now?” Both were bright red, but at an embarrassed nod from Carly, she squeezed the padding of her diaper. “It’s probably getting close to needing a change? Still okay, though?” “Carly, you have a choice. Can you wait a while yet, or can Beth change you?” “Uhh…” Carly looked up into Beth’s eyes, and it looked like the looks of a deer freezing on the road and staring at its impending doom by car. Beth squeezed her and whispered, “It’s up to you; I’ll do it if you want me to. It doesn’t change anything between us. You’ll be going through a lot of those each day, and the university won’t let you change yourself?” “Beth,” Carly said while leaning into her. Amanda pulled out a diaper from her purse and a packet of wipes. “Just change her on the couch, Beth; you can use a changing pad in that basket.” Beth felt her internals icing up and her face burning like the sun. She stood and placed Carly back on the couch before walking to the waiting diaper and wipes. ‘I’m really about to change my boy… girlfriend’s diaper?!?’ It was taking her a bit of a leap to change the gender in her mind, even though nothing changed about how she felt about her. There was a connection with her that she’d never had with someone before. ‘About to be a whole new kind of connection,’ a voice in her head practically giggled at her. With a fresh diaper and wipes in hand, she crossed over and grabbed the purple changing pad covered in butterflies, even as Amanda was rapidly working on her emails and contacts. She could see it was an older pad, but it still did the trick as she unfolded it onto the couch. Gently, she lifted Carly under the shoulders and laid her out on top of the mat. Carly was just long enough to nearly fill the entire pad length. Beth ran a hand gently through her hair, which had shifted into her face. She placed her on her back, squeezed her shoulder, and then forced herself to pretend her girlfriend was just a baby who needed her diaper changed. That thought made her grimace, but she smiled as she looked down at the tiny girl. “Lift up,” she said as she pushed her legs up and moved the dress skirt out of the way first. She could see the diaper was swelling a little out of the cover. The matching diaper cover was pulled down to her ankles then, and she checked to ensure it was still dry before moving onto the diaper. This brand of diapers had a line moving down the center to help you tell when to change it. The area was discolored along about seventy percent of it, and from Beth’s time in Livy’s mom’s daycare hanging out, she knew it was time for a change. ‘She’s just one of her kids,’ she tried to tell herself. She thought back to the visits she’d made with Livy back there. Apparently, when you’re avoiding adoption yourself, finding a daycare that’s safe for your own babies is tough. It was a bit risky constantly working around the diapers Bigs thought you belonged in. Still, Livy’s mom felt it was a mission to help other Littles with their kids. Having not spent much time around Little’s babies, even Beth had been astounded by how tiny they were compared to their Big counterparts. She ripped the tapes loose on the diaper, and opened it up. Having seen what happened to Charlotte in the one scene, she quickly placed the new diaper and wiped her up. Whether by choice or chance, she was fortunate Carly didn’t pee on her. ‘Some people think of that as fun,’ she shook her head. ‘That is definitely not something I’m getting into!’ Beth was gentle as she changed the small girl, but sure, she had done a good job. She covered the new diaper with the diaper cover and wrapped the wipes in the old one, balling them up. “I’m going to go down the hall and throw this away?” Beth told Amanda. “Just leave it over there,” she said, pointing to a trashcan by the door with a lid. “The HoloCustodian will be by tonight to pick it up. There’s a bathroom in that door you can use to wash your hands,” she added, pointing to a door Beth assumed was a closet. “Be back in a sec,” she told Carly. I HAD FELT absolutely mortified when Grandma suggested that Beth change me! At one point, I had been bored and looked at some growth charts; with Beth’s height, it was like a big fifth-grade sister changing her eighteen-month-old baby sibling… And she was able to physically manage me just fine. It had been scary as she pulled the diaper open, but it was also the most caring touch I’d felt during a change in this dimension. She was gentle, loving, and quick with it… ‘Like Grandma said, it is inevitable she’ll help me again. I just hope I can maintain a peer role and not that of her being my babysitter.’ I heard the water run as she washed her hands before returning to the couch, pulling me onto her lap, and squeezing me. “I’ll never think less of you, Carly. I love you,” she said in my ear. I turned my face to her and quietly replied, “I love you too.” We’d known each other for such a short time, but I really did feel like I’d met my soulmate. Grandma’s phone rang right then, and I watched her answer it, projecting the hologram on top of her desk after motioning for us to be quiet. “Thank you for giving me a call, Ryan.” “Hi Professor, this has been an unusual week; we don’t usually talk this often,” President Barnes said. “Sorry about that; we’ll hopefully return to our normal once-a-year chat after this! You got my email?” Grandma asked. “I did, and I’m more than a little concerned about the effects you’re seeing. I’ve sent an email to the theater department to halt the use of those nanites until we’ve done a full review of the situation,” the university president said. “You might as well rescind that,” Grandma said, “Or, just modify it to say not to use it on Portal Littles for now? I’m certain Connor was a one-in-a-million fluke case.” “I still want a review done just to be safe; we’ll make it quick, though. What do you need from me? Obviously, if you can’t figure out a nanite problem, there’s not anyone else better?” “Well, there’s one Doctor we’ll take her to, but I agree with you. It’s more the university side of things. I want assurances that just because of her gender change and necessary identity change, we won’t have any problems with her registration?” “Oh,” President Barnes said, “I see where your concerns are. I’ll personally guarantee your granddaughter’s status here at Emerson. She’ll need to change nests then, won’t she?” “Yes, she will. I would ask that you please move her to Lilly Desmonde’s nest? She’s got a bit of a relationship already with Carly?” “Carly is her new name?” “Yes,” Grandma answered simply. “As long as she has room, which I’m sure she probably does, we’ll make that happen. I’ll call Grace Melburne, she’s the new acting Head Nest Mother, and let her know. I doubt it’ll be possible to move her in today?” “That’s fine, I’ll keep her at my house tonight anyway so I can monitor for any unexpected changes.” “We’ll let everyone know. Looking at her schedule, why don’t you plan to move Carly into her new nest after her HoloField Theory class? I think everyone can get away for the time she has lunch and get her to her math class without a problem?” “That’ll be great. Is it okay if Fred helps us move her in?” “That’ll be fine,” he told her. “Thanks, Ryan, see you tomorrow.” Grandma looked up at me, “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do today, Carly, Beth. Are you both ready to get out of here?” I nodded as Grandma gathered her purse and came around to the couch. She picked me up and sat me on her hip, “I guess let’s go get your diapers and anything else you need…” The idea of going diaper shopping made me want to just move into my new nest instead! ‘I’m glad Grandma suggested Lilly’s nest. At least I’ll have Mia and Amy in there too?’ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!!! Please press that Like Button for this chapter! If I see 25 I'll post another chapter on Monday. I have a bit of time off this week, so I'm hoping to get to writing at least 7-10 more chapters this week. Please help keep me motivated with the likes and comments! A lot of your questions have been answered in this chapter, please let me know what you think! Thanks for everyone who liked the last chapter! 💜 As always, if you enjoy this, please consider purchasing one of my completed works on Amazon Kindle! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia I might have almost dedicated this chapter title to you, your wording here was very timely! 🤣 Thanks! 💜

Chapter Thirty Two Amanda looked down at John in the shopping cart. She could feel the worry on her face. “John.” she started slowly “We’re going into this store to get groceries. It’s not too busy this early, and there’s only a few dozen cars here. All you have to do is be cute, and help me figure out what you like.” John just nodded at her. He still looked a bit forlorn. But at least he nodded. This wasn’t shaping up to be the fun outing together she had hoped for, but she figured if she went straight to the strawberries that might snap him out of it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ John knew he was being grumpy when Amanda started walking them into the store. He also knew that this was probably really bad timing to be grumpy. He tried thinking his way through all of this as quickly (and haphazardly) as he could. ‘Okay’ he thought to himself. ‘I knew I was stuck. Why am I suddenly pissed off about it?’ While he was debating in his head he saw the end of the parking lot and knew the building was close and he felt like he was being pressured to finish a thought process. So he reached over and patted Amanda on the arm. She stopped and leaned down to ask “You gonna be okay, sweety?” He nodded “I just need a moment. I’m a bit freaked out.” Her face filled his view and she kissed him on the forehead “Do you wanna talk about it?” He tried shaking his head but she was just staring at him like she cared SO much. “I don’t … wa… I THINK that….” He felt rather than saw her fingers running through his hair slowly. “Just try to say roughly what it is.” “I think …” he struggled to assemble a jumble of emotions into words “That … I … I think that I’m just really mad? Maybe just freaked ou… maybe it still hasn’t sunk in. I don’t know why I’m mad. Just that I’m mad.” Two large arms wrapped around him and a hunched over big woman hugged him to her chest. It wasn’t a bad sensation. But also didn’t really help his sense of helplessness. After a moment she got down to eye level with him again and said “I’m very proud of you?” “Uhhh…Why?” He had no idea why she would be proud of him for being mad. Her hand came into his view and she stroked his cheek with the back of a finger as she explained “It’s not easy to say what you feel. Especially when you’re confused.” He nodded like he understood. He almost sort of did. “Okay. We have to go get these groceries one way or another. What can we do now to make you feel a bit less mad, or maybe a bit more in control?” He looked down at where he was sitting. And then down … geeze he was higher up than he was tall. He knew what he wanted. “May I walk?” She looked him up and down and nodded. “On the one condition that Rupert comes with you.” Okay, weird condition, but whatever. “Yes Ma’am.” He was lifted out and stood on his feet and then Rupert was held out to him. “Okay, hold my hand, or hold onto the buggy. But don’t wander off no matter what you do. Say yes Ma’am.” He nodded “Yes Ma’am.” And that was how they walked in. Rupert under his right arm, his main hand holding onto Amanda’s right hand, and John feeling conflicted that he had to ask her to stop, but also somehow relieved that she heard him out. He felt a bit useless and dumb and confused. But somehow just being allowed to walk felt like it gave him a bit of control. Not much. But it was what was going to get. They passed through the automatic sliding doors and immediately he felt like he was looking ‘up’ at the most normal looking grocery store in the world. Shopping carts to the left of the door, rack of sales papers on a wobbly wire rack to the right. Flimsy table full of cheap … oh hey! John pulled on Amandas hand a bit and asked “Hey, what are those up there?” and he held out the hand with Rupert in it to sort of point at the clear containers. If those were what he thought they were, then this world was more normal than he expected. She looked down at him, then followed where he was pointing. “Oh. That’s some pastries. They try to sell you sweets the moment you wal… John why are you looking at me like that?” “I need to see!” It didn’t go unnoticed that she rolled her eyes while she chuckled, but she picked him up and got him up onto her hip as she walked over. John surveyed the table carefully. Sugar cookies the size of small plates. Croissants that he would have to hold with two hands, weird folded pastries filled with some sort of cheese that looked close enough to a danish. Silently, he nodded. “Okay. That seems normal enough.” He felt a pat on his back and he was slid down to the floor as she asked “Pass inspection?” With a silent nod from him, she waited like she wondered if he was going to explain anything. But when the explanation didn’t come she just shrugged and went back to walking. Clearly she didn’t understand how normal that table was. Looking through her legs as they turned right he saw generic floral display. Swinging his head back to the right, and of course up, he saw a cooler full of beverages and cheeses and those hilariously expensive looking bottles of juice. So far so good. Still obviously holding Amandas hand, his head was on a swivel, he felt like he was trying to look at everything at once, trying to find something different about this dimension. But it all seemed so oddly normal. “Oh! Can I see up there?” Very patiently, he was picked up and leaned so that he could see plastic containers of rotisserie chickens. “Heh. Your chicken looks way better than that.” There was definitely a chuckle behind him, but he was lowered back to the floor. They continued on their way with him unabashedly trying to see everything. He spotted shopping carts with Bigs pushing them. Several of them had kids, or kid-like adults in them. One woman in a dress with her blonde hair in a ponytail went by in front of them. She wasn’t paying attention to other people having to stop themselves from running into her as she payed no attention. That, unfortunately, also seemed normal. As they turned left he could see a great big wide open area with coolers that came up to Amanda’s waist. And therefore still over his head. But this area must have been a few hundred feet wide. Possibly more! “Hey umm… Mom?” he asked tentatively. “Yes sweety?” “Is this a big store?” She shook her head “No sweety. It’s sort of mid sized. I usually shop here instead of the bigger store because this one is less crowded and nowhere near as loud. I do go to the bigger ones for the sales sometimes.” Nodding yet again in almost comprehension, he said “This place is way bigger than a grocery store from my world.” Now she smiles “Would you say that it’s just over twice as big?” All he really did to respond was nod, but he let go of his hand and ruffled his hair. “Okay, hold onto the cart an I’ll go slow so you can keep up. We need a weeks worth of groceries, plus maybe some extra for one big meal this weekend. Even though we did a big meal two days ago. You’re not going to be good for my waist line.” “Not my fault.” he stated as he grabbed the back rail of the cart and walked as quickly as he could to keep up. She stopped at the obligatory wall of bread and grabbed two loaves. A few steps down was the usual section of peanut butter and assorted jellies. She looked down at him in consideration for a moment and grabbed a peanut butter and a squeeze bottle of red jelly. Then she squinted at him like she was remembering something. She turned and picked up a bottle of grape jelly and looked him up and down. He could tell that she was thinking of he and Kate stress eating three pounds of grapes the night before and almost throwing up on Aunt Cat. Time to look innocent “What?” he asked. She just shook her head and put the jelly into the cart. They continued on the way and started passing shelves with brightly colored fruit on the tops of them. This was the part of the store that he could never afford to visit consistently. As they passed between two rows, he spotted a small folding table. The table was only the height of his neck, so his curiosity was irresistible. Combined with the fact that Amanda stopped two (of her) steps away from the table, looked down at him, and then started pulling a little bag off of the roll. Well, temptation wasn’t even a strong enough word. John took five big steps and silently stood on tip toes to peek over the table to see what was on it. At first all he saw was an assortment of little paper plates with cut up bits of fruit and little snacks on it. Then he noticed a large gray hair woman leaning down to smile at him. Startled he stepped back too quickly and fell on his butt, squeaking a little as he landed on the hard floor. Thankfully he was wearing some padding. Silently the large smiling woman stood up and stepped around the table, and to him she looked like a thirteen foot tall smiling monster reaching for him. He started to scramble to get away from her, but a large hand closed firmly around his left upper arm and pulled him upright. His fight or flight reflex was swinging back and forth between flee and take a swing faster than he could process. He was rotated slightly and another hand patted his butt and he felt the top of his diaper being pulled back. THAT snapped him out of it, and he croaked out “Don’t touch my butt!” as every single muscle in his body tensed up like a steel cable, and Rupert fell from his hand. If the woman would have tilted him he would have kept the same pose, he was so tense. As she said something to him softly, she was pulling him closer. His fists were balled, his body was tense. He had a plan of escape. He was gonna punch her in the boob as hard as he could and cheese it to hide behind HIS giant. As he was being pulled within swinging range he heard a shout from behind him “JOHN. TAYLOR.” Oh shit. She used his full name. John looked up at the woman. Then over his shoulder at his big. Then he took his own posture into account. Think fast think fast think fast. He went limp and made grabby hands trying to reach for Rupert. That worked for the big that was holding him because he heard her say “Awww” and she stood up, lifting him up onto her hip with a sense of familiarity like she had lifted hundreds of people his size throughout her lifetime. She didn’t seem like a big monster. But she didn’t smell like his big. Not wrong, just not right. Amanda scooped up Rupert an stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot while she stared at him. Amanda looked mad. “John. I told you to hold either the cart or my hand. Why did you let go?” The older woman holding him came to his rescue by saying sweetly “Oh Mommy, don’t be too hard on him. He just saw a table that wasn’t too high for him to see and he was curious. He only let go for ten seconds.” Then the woman holding him looked down at him and said “You were going to go right back to your Mommy, weren’t you little boy?” John just nodded. “Uh huh” Amanda interrupted. “Thank you for helping him up Ma’am. He’s only been in our dimension for a week and he’s still a bit afraid of all the big changes” After a shuffling of a john shaped rag doll from one persons hip to another, Amanda looked at John expectantly and then nodded toward the woman. “John. Are you going to say thank you to this nice woman?” His brows furrowed, he was still mad that she touched his butt and looked in the back of his diaper. But he also knew he was about to get himself spanked. His face turned red, and he didn’t know if it was because he was mad, or because he was embarrassed. Amanda seemed to know some of what was going on in his head. “John. Take a deep breath. Use your words. Your words John. Nothing else. Just your words. Words.” Okay. The redness was embarrassment. Looking over he mumbled “Tha...Thank you Ma’am.” “Clearly.” Oh, she had the tone. John cleared his throat and said more clearly “Thank you Ma’am.” but still not able to look her in the eyes. “Awww, that’s okay sweety. You just fell down and needed some help up.” The woman seemed to have either not noticed, or been completely oblivious to his previous body language. The way Amanda was holding him, the tension of the fingers on his thigh… yeah. She noticed. “Well, thank you very much for helping him up. He will absolutely learn his lesson and not let go of the cart, because he will be spending more time IN it.” John slumped as he sighed. “Oh Mommy, don’t be mean to him. Here, let Nana Claire give him a treat!” John looked over at the seemingly nice woman, and then up at Amanda. It was his turn for raised eyebrows. Amanda still had something to say “I don’t know if he deserves it at the moment.” “Well, you are his Mommy, but I have samples of fruit and chocolate. And if he’s new here, then we get to find out what he likes together!” He could FEEL Amanda soften against him. He looked over at her and she winked at him. This Nana Claire woman was good at getting samples into littles, even if she was oblivious about other things. “Okay.” Amanda conceded “But you’re still in trouble, Mister.” Amanda carried him the whopping one step to the table so he could see, while the self proclaimed Nana Claire sat back on her stool. As he looked at the small (to them) table he saw a variety of colors. He didn’t know most of these things. Nana Claire gave John a little finger wave like you would a small child and then smiled to Amanda “So how did you wind up with your little bundle of joy here?” Amanda softened slightly as she explained “I found him out in the woods. Well, my dog did. He wandered into a rift and then got lost.” “I..” John started, but he stopped as Nana Claire talked over him. “Oh my! The poor baby must have been so scared! Luckily he has a Mommy to keep him safe!” He looked up, Amanda was smiling a little now. Nana Claire was good. Nana Claire soldiered on “So you haven’t had your baby long, do you know what kind of things that he likes to eat yet?” “I ca..” John stopped as he felt a firm pat on his thigh. Amanda answered for him “So far I know that he loves raw sweet peas, grapes, he tolerated the sweet tomatoes, he traded another little for all of her olives, and he goes wild for strawberries.” “But I…” He tried again. “Well! What a great little eater!” Nana Claire talked right over him. Not on purpose, but like she didn’t know he was capable of words. Amanda patted him on the thigh like she was trying to get his attention as she continued the conversation. “Part of what I hope to do today is get a variety of fruits and veggies to see what he likes.” “Ve…” As Nana Claire spoke like he wasn’t there again he couldn’t help himself, he leaned his head back, rolled his eyes and flopped his head forward onto a boob. As the conversation carried on he mumbled into Amandas chest “I just want an apple.” He was listening to the conversation, but only halfway. He mumbled a few random things into the boob he had his face in. “I ate an entire ostrich.” was one of them. And “I killed all the dinosaurs. They were delicious.” was another. After a few minutes of being talked over, literally and figuratively, Amanda rotated him and pointed at the table. Nana Claire had a handful of plates pushed to the front of the table and she was smiling at him like she was looking at an infant. Happy, bubbly, vacant. “Here you go, can you be a big boy and try these for us? Mommy told me some things you like and I bet you’re going to love all of these things.” John looked down at the tiny paper plate with some little cube of pale yellow fruit on it. He just knew he was going to hate it because it was coming from Nana Claire. With a look up to Amanda it was obvious at a glance that this fruit was going in his mouth one way or the other. He huffed. “Aww, new littles are shy. But you trust Nana Claire and you’ll be very happy that you did.” John gave her the best fake smile he could as he leaned back and reached across with his left hand and picked up the little cube of pale yellow. “That’s called a mango. Can you say mango?” John just shook his head and said “Nope.” and then popped the fruit from another dimension into his mouth before anyone could catch on that he was obviously being snarky. As he bit into the juicy cube, he stopped moving. His brain had to reset. That’s not a Mango. Mango shouldn’t taste that good. It was as though the inside of his mouth was filled with sweet liquid and slightly crunchy fruit. His brain caught up with his taste buds and he started chewing faster. The two bigs read him like a book because before he could swallow. By the time he was done Amanda had taken Rupert, put him into the buggy and gotten him his sippy cup and said “Drink some water.” They didn’t even ask how he like the mango. They just assumed that he did because he ate it like he was starving. After a few pulls of water Amanda held up a yellow square that was obviously pineapple. There was no way that was … it got closer to his mouth and he tried giving her ‘the look’ but this was her world and that was about to be his bite of pineapple. Fine. Of course Nana Claire had to chime in to help “Don’t worry sweety, you like sweet things and tart things. You’re gonna love that.” GOD HE WANTED HER TO BE WRONG. John took the bite of Pineapple as indignantly as he could manage. And just like the Mango, it was delicious! Bit tart on the follow which made his eyes cross briefly, but other than that amazing. He was made to drink more water and when he saw a blueberry coming at him he didn’t wait, he reached out and grabbed it and popped it into his mouth like a piece of candy. It tasted sweet and just a bit tart and the only thing that spoiled it at all was that Nana Claire said he would love it. He wanted her to be wrong so badly. Next was a piece of banana that had been cut in half to make a semi circle. Nana Claire said “Now Mommy, your little boy may not like the banana. But if you want, I’m sure he could try it like a big boy and find out for sure.” As the banana came at him he leaned back. It came closer still and he twisted to lean back a bit farther. As it got right to his mouth he willed his spine to go limp so he could bend upside down. It didn’t work as the bite of banana went into his mouth. He closed his eyes and tried not to make a face as he chewed it. The sweet flavor was fine. But the texture in his mouth going from firm to goop in a few chews made him stop. He wanted to spit it out. He wanted to spit it into orbit. He wanted to untaste this bite of banana. He wanted to send the banana through a rift so it would be someone else's problem. As he finally forced himself to swallow the bite, he didn’t even care how obvious his distaste was on his face or in his mannerisms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nana Claire nod “Well, it’s impossible to know for certain what our little babies like until they try it. He obviously does not like the banana.” A pox upon her for being right. Just as he finished taking some water out of his sippy cup, and before he could mouth off to her by shouting ‘Ya think!?’ he looked over and Nana Claire had left her stool and she was smiling at him holding a piece of strawberry out on a toothpick for him to take directly from her instead of from his own Mommy. That’s not fair. Nana Claire is good at this. Mean. Totally ignored him, but somehow actually did manage to read his body language. Which means that she knew full and well that he was scared and wanted to lash out earlier. But here she was offering him strawberry. He realized that she could indeed read him like a book as she said “Don’t worry, Nana Claire can tell what you like.” Begrudgingly he took the bite. Oh it was heaven. It was oh so sweet in just the right ways. It was just barely tart on the end. Juicy did not begin to describe it. It was perfect. Almost worth this batty dimension for more of these. Almost. He visibly relaxed. “Now!” Nana Claire, dismissive and mean and wonderful saint of strawberry procurement continued “I believe in saving the best for last. Mommy, is it okay if your baby boy has a piece of chocolate?” Amanda squinted down at him and asked softly “Do you want a piece?” Of course he nodded. It’s chocolate. So Nana Claire showed Amanda the packaging of the candy bar and gave her the whole sales pitch about how ‘Bigs don’t like sweets, but littles do. And this chocolate is made just for littles by people that love them.’ yada yada yada. Nana Claire opened up the little container with the samples of chocolate bar and instead of giving him a tiny piece, she got an especially big chunk and handed it to him. He had to take it with both hands. “Thank you Nana Claire!” He said without any prompting from either big. “Oh there’s his little voice! You are most welcome.” Of course -now- she could hear him. He would be more indignant, but he had a huge chunk of chocolate. One cautious nibble of it and he was sold. It was so good it tasted like drugs and addiction in one sweet sweet package. John was deposited into the shopping cart and Amanda and Nana Claire went around gathering up some fruits behind him. He heard something about “This looks like an apple but tastes like a grape” and honestly it didn’t matter, he had chocolate. Eventually they were done in the produce section and his fingertips were covered in chocolate. He didn’t really remember the last few minutes. Not did he felt the need to. As Amanda wiped his hands and mouth with a baby wipe he said “Mom?” “Yes sweety?” “Can you please tell her that I’m sorry that I got scared?” With a nod, Amanda turned and said “Nana Claire, John says that he’s sorry for getting scared earlier.” Of course she heard it from another big, Nana Claire smiled at him and said to Amanda “Oh that’s perfectly okay Dearie. He’s just new here and he hasn’t learned that the bigs know better. He’ll learn how much he needs to depend on us in no time, I promise.” With the two bigs nodding at each other, Amanda turned and pushed the cart away, with him now not only seated in it, but buckled in for good measure. His walking in the store privileges were obviously gone for the moment. “May I walk some more?” “No you may not.” He looked down at her feet as he said softly “Okay.” From there the rest of the shopping trip seemed to be comfortingly ordinary. Rice, beans, dry goods all went into the buggy behind him. He started to feel a bit giggly for some reason. He had no idea why, but when Amanda showed him a box of what was obviously a version of mac’n cheese shaped like little animals, he started having a giggle attack. Since he had been good since that incident two packs of marshmallows went into the front of the cart with him. He knew a bribe when he saw it. All went great and he was even tolerating having to twist around to see what groceries they had just passed. For some reason he started to enjoy putting his hand on top of hers when she was pushing the shopping cart. It made him smile. While they were in the cooler section and Amanda was reading the nutrition labels of various juices marketed for littles his stomach started to feel bubbly. It did not feel normal and the bubbles were not moving up. While he was focusing on the odd sensation a woman with a very familiar seeming haircut walked up behind Amanda and opened the cooler next to her, hitting Amanda with the door hard enough that Amanda said “Hey!” The rude woman said “Well, watch where you’re standing.” Amanda just let it pass with a harrumph. John saw her hit his Mommy with a door. And in his current state that set him off. John grabbed and launched a bag of marshmallows at the womans head. The bag just hit her and fell to the ground. It was like throwing a pillow at a giant golem. But it got the message across. The rude woman looked at him indignantly “Hey! You little turd! Don’t you know better!” Amanda turned and said “Hey! You don’t yell at him. You upset him in the first place.” “Well, certainly SOMEONE needs some mittens.” John started to chime in “Don’t hit my Momma!” but he stopped. For reasons that John could never explain, suddenly he didn’t have an urgent need to go. He HAD to go. The churning immediately turned to cramping and he grabbed the handle of the cart with a pained look on his face. He tried with all his might to stop it. But he may as well have been trying to stop a landslide with willpower alone. This did not feel normal. It was torrential and he couldn’t breathe as his entire abdomen convulsed to expel something that it wanted out of him more urgently than it wanted anything else. No movement should be this immediate, this liquid, and certainly not this foamy. It felt wrong in every possible way. John was trapped in the shopping cart and he tried desperately any way he could to pull himself up and take weight off of his bottom. It was beyond gross. And what was worse he had no choice or any chance. The woman had been prepared to scream at him and Amanda more, but while John sat there in the cart freaking out and obviously messing himself she stopped and stared. After a moment she covered her nose and said “Ugh. Littles!” and power walked away like she had anywhere else to be. All John knew was that it still hurt so much and more came out of him. It was too much. He was never one to cry easily, but he was also not prepared to be in another dimension and helplessly mess himself with the force of an upside down volcano. John started crying. And for some reason his emotions felt like they were dialed all the way up, so when he started crying he started CRYING. He didn’t even notice Amanda put the marshmallows back into the cart and start quickly walking away without saying a word. He barely noticed walking past over a dozen Bigs, all of whom looked at him and said some variation of “Awww, poor baby.” He was still crying when she unbuckled him. He was still crying when he was carried into the women's bathroom. He was certainly crying when he was laid down onto the changing table. His shoes were pulled off. His pants were peeled off. Amanda was talking to him softly, shushing him and trying to calm him down while she worked. He didn’t even register when she buckled a strap over his chest and ran across the bathroom to get several paper towels and put them under him and start wiping off his back and belly and legs. He started slowing down as she peeled the gross diaper off of him and saw what she had to work on. “Whew. Baby this is … a lot. Hold still for Momma.” Six paper towels and a dozen wipes later, she was going to great lengths to get everything off of the changing table and tilting him up to scrub underneath him. It was easily five minutes of dedicated work on Amanda's part before she had him in a fresh blue diaper. When she was finally done changing him, he was out of tears. He turned his head sideways as she went to the sink and turned his pants inside out, scrubbing them as best she could with hand soap and rinsing them under the faucet. After wringing them out as thoroughly as she could, she tried the hand drier on them. After a minute of the loud fan running she seemed to give up and walked back over to unbuckle him and picked him up into a big hug. She spoke softly as she asked “Are you feeling better now that you’re clean?” He nodded yes into her neck. “Are you out of tears? Do you need to cry any more?” He shook his head no into her neck. “Do you know that I love you?” He nodded yes into her neck again. “Why did you throw the marshmallows at that woman?” “Because she hit my Mom with a door.” There was quiet for a moment as he felt her hand stroking his back some more. Eventually she spoke again “Would you like to pick a pack of cookies?” Of course he nodded again.

...and I would worship her!

Chapter 30: Red Little in Love 2 – LittleFallenPrincess All I saw was red. I didn’t have Charlie to hold me back or tell me to just drop it. I didn’t have my friends nearby. Malcolm was in the audience, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop me from doing something very, very stupid. Pouncing on Chris, I started flailing about, hitting him as hard as I could, wherever I could, as he lay there on the floor, screaming for help. I didn’t care. He… he caused what happened to Charlie. He… the head of LIBRA… was the corruption all along. He is the one pulling the strings like some fucking evil genius… and for what end? What could be worth putting my fucking wife in a fucking coma? I heard security rush the stage and all the press snapping pictures left and right, most likely trying to get the perfect picture that showed just what littles are capable of and why they should be regressed and kept as infants. But I didn’t care. This man… this monster… he hurt my Charlie, and I would make him pay. Clawing at his face, trying to hurt him as much as he hurt Charlie… I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me off, holding me back. One security guard held me back whilst the others around us rushed to Chris to see if he was okay. One guard was all that was needed with me being a little, as our security are all Amazons. “LET ME AT HIM! HE HURT CHARLIE! HE HYPNOTISED HER AND PUT HER IN A FUCKING COMA!” I screamed, making sure everyone heard me. “OLIVIA! OLIVIA!” I heard the press call out. “WHAT IS THIS ABOUT HYPNOSIS? AMAZONS CAN’T BE HYPNOTISED LIKE LITTLES CAN. WHY WOULD YOU MAKE SUCH ACCUSATIONS?” They shouted, trying to ask their questions over the chaos that was happening around us. I struggled against the tight grip of the Amazon security guard clad in black gear, but his strength far surpassed my own. So I focused my attention on the members of the press trying to squeeze over to get closer to me for a comment. “LIBRA has technology… technology that can be used on Amazons! It can regress any of you just like it can any other little!” I wish they could have heard me speak the truth. I wish they had heard what I had to say, but the ensuing chaos surrounding us meant that my quiet voice was inaudible and my message was lost. “Call an ambulance. Don’t bother with the police. I already have their permission for this.” I heard a familiar voice taking charge of the situation, before one of the crowd surrounding Chris stood up straight and looked directly at me. The Deputy Prime Minister. Rachel Brackenstone. Of course she was here. Brunette hair down to her shoulders, thick rimmed glasses perched on the tip of her nose, wrinkles adorning her very toned face… she looked good for her age, honestly. And as usual, she was wearing one of her very conservative dresses, never opting for a suit or even a blazer. She was the epitome of femininity. To me… she always reminded me of an old librarian. She was always in the background, keeping quiet, as the PM turned against littles and focused entirely on preserving the status quo. She had always been against little’s rights, but she was mostly harmless before the election. She always appeared to be very much on the fence, hence why I had decided to run for their party. But then we won, and just like the others… she showed her true colours. Always talking down to me, demeaning me, treating me like a child… she was just as bad as the rest of them. And here she was… looking at me with the creepiest grin on her face. “Oh Olivia… you overstepped this time.” She said, walking over to where the security guard held me. “Mrs Brackenstone…” A reporter called out. “Will your party punish this little girl for her crime?” She turned to the reporter and put on that innocent, sweet smile of hers she saves for the cameras. “Miss Clarke should be punished for her crime, just like any criminal. But I also believe that sometimes… little’s just aren’t raised properly. So I’ll make sure she is re-raised to be a good little baby…” My heart sank. “Does this mean what I think it means? Are you…?” A reporter asked her. “Adopting Miss Clarke? Absolutely.” “YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” I screamed. “LEGALLY I’M… MMPHHHH!” Before I could finish my sentence, a dummy gag was inserted into my mouth and quickly inflated, preventing me from speaking. “You broke the law and attacked someone, showing that you are clearly unable to be a grown up. And yes, whilst your marriage would mean that Charlie would become your Mummy… she’s currently in a coma, correct?” “Miss Williams really is in a coma?” Another reporter asked. “So with no Mummy to take care of you… I’ve decided I will take the role and adopt you myself.” Rachel turned and grinned at me. I struggled as hard as I could, trying my best to free myself, but this guard’s grip was not going to give way any time soon. “Mrs Brackenstone…” The PM’s advisor rushed up to her. “We’ve got it handled here. Ambulance is on its way, Chris will make it with just a few facial scars. If you want to take little Livie here, and get her adopted before…” “Before her little Judge friend turns up… yes, good idea. Let’s go get you legally adopted, shall we?” Rachel said, turning to me. I gulped as she indicated to the guard to follow her. ------------------------------------------------------------- We pulled up outside the nearest adoption centre, and my nerves were completely shot. I was powerless to resist any of this, not only due to their Amazon strength compared to my own, but also by the restraints they had put me in… …As if they knew they’d be needed. “Jeffrey, Marshall… wait outside the car for a minute, then you can help carry her in.” She told the security escorts who drove us here. Both well-built, sharply dressed men got out of the car, closed the doors and waited at the front of the car, leaving the Deputy Prime Minister and myself in the car, with me safely strapped into a car seat, unable to move, unable to speak… unable to do anything right now. “I’m sure you have a million questions right now. And you’re a clever little girl… I’m sure you worked out that this was all planned. You’ve been getting too big for your nappies lately… and needed knocking down a peg. Once we heard that Chris had the technology to hypnotise Amazons, I had this perfect idea to make Charlotte Williams… just like the rest of us Amazons. Or at least the few who still believe in how things should be. You did a great job at swaying the public, as a large amount of the population are actually siding with your silly little beliefs that littles are equal to Amazons. But don’t worry, once they see you being paraded about in your thick lil nappies and shitting yourself on stage… no one will believe that anymore.” I screamed at her, but most of it was muffled by the dummy. “I don’t know how you got yourself free of the hypnosis, as we programmed Charlie to want to hypnotise you. But believe me… I’ll make sure it sticks this time. You’ll be latched onto my tit, shitting yourself, and looking adorable. And there’s nothing that wife of yours can do.” I sighed, knowing she was right… that there was literally nothing I could do right now to save myself, especially with Charlie out of it. It meant that legally… I think this bitch can actually adopt me. Even if Charlie wakes up… it may be too late at that point. “So we’re going to go in, fill out a few forms, get you chipped and tagged, then you’ll be coming home with me. Then tomorrow… we’ll have another press event where I tell the country that you have been stripped of your position as both a member of Parliament… AND as a big girl. And that you’ll be going to the House of Commons… in a stroller. Does that sound good, babygirl? And if you’re well behaved… I won’t get you renamed whilst I’m here. Though I think you should at least take my last name, if you’re going to be my daughter.” I wanted to be sick. This… this was… I needed my wife. I needed Charlie. I didn’t know what to do… I felt so lost right now. Rachel signalled to the escorts, who walked over and opened both back doors. Whilst one helped my soon-to-be-Mummy out of her side, the other lifted the whole car seat out of the back using the carry handle, and carried me behind the Deputy PM into the adoption centre. ----------------------- “Name?” The adoption centre manager asked my kidnapper. Wearing a polo-shirt with the company logo on it, with her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail… she just looked… normal. As if she didn’t ruin little’s lives every day by giving them away to Amazons. “Mrs Rachel Brackenstone.” Rachel replied, positioning me carefully on the counter. “Occupation?” “Deputy Prime Minister.” “Wait… I thought you looked familiar!” The manager laughed. “Reason for adoption? Sorry, I need to ask, it’s on the form.” “Little assaulted someone. I’m re-raising her in response. If she’ll ever even get that far…” “This little kid assaulted someone?” “Don’t think she’s an innocent little baby. She’s vicious. Don’t let her out of the carrier.” Rachel warned. “Thank you for informing us. We’ll keep her in it for the health checkup. Now… What is her name?” “Olivia Clarke. Though I’d like to change it to Olivia Brackenstone, please.” “Are you married?” “Yes. My husband will be so happy he’s finally a Daddy!” ‘A… Daddy? Please… no…’ “His name?” The adoption centre manager asked. “Neil Brackenstone.” “Occupation?” “He’s on the board for this place.” “He is? Oh wow…” The Manager responded, shocked by this information. Honestly… so was I. I didn’t know just how corrupt and anti-little my party was. I just believed whatever Chris told me. And it’s clear now that he had his own agenda, and wasn’t wanting to improve the lives of littles at all. “How long will this take? I need to get home soon.” Rachel said, sighing. “If you’d like to fill in this form… I’ll take little Olivia here into the back for a quick checkup and get her processed. Would you like any…” “Chipped with tracking, please.” Rachel said, cutting her off. “Right-o… okay little Livie… let’s get you looked over for your new Mummy…” The Manager said, gripping the handle of my carrier and lifting me off the counter. I was carried off into the backroom, where a clinical table stood in the middle, surrounded by the usual cabinets you’d see in a Doctor’s examination room. And I knew just what this ‘checkup’ would entail. I’d have every orifice checked, my heartrate taken, everything. It would be invasive and disgusting and dehumanising. And I dreaded it so much right now, my heart racing as she settled me down on top of the examination table. “Your new Mummy says you’re going to be a handful… so we’ll have to be very careful with you, won’t we, sweetheart? But don’t worry, I’ll try to make it as painless as possible. And then when you’re chipped and tracked… your Mummy will never lose you! Now… let’s just do a quick scan for existing nanites, as your Mummy may want to get you adapted in the future, and she’ll need to know beforehand if there are already nanites in you. You silly littles pick them up so easily from all sorts of places!” The Manager brought a scanner over my body, which instantly gave off signals. “Oh… you do! Let’s see what they’re there for, shall we?” She pressed a few keys on the keyboard under the table before I heard screeching sounds coming from under me. “What the fuck? What the hell caused my computer to do that?” She cried out and stepped back in shock. I laughed behind the dummy, knowing full well that Faith must have added a few features to my nanites in that latest patch. Features I’d no doubt have to ask for details about if I ever get out of this predicament, but right now I just appreciated that I seemed to have some defence against this woman trying to process my adoption. “Fine. We’ll do it the old fashioned way without a scan. I’ll just note it as ‘has existing unknown nanites’. Now for… wait, what’s that noise?” I had no idea what she was talking about as she stopped completely in her tracks, listening for a non-existe… *thump* ‘Wait… no… I hear it…’ *thump* “What is that? It sounds like it's coming from outside…” She said, putting down her pen. *thump* A smashing sound echoed through the building as the door opened quickly and three people clambered in, hastily closing the door behind them. The Deputy PM looked terrified as she rushed over to the table, whilst her escorts barricaded the door with their backs. “What’s going on?” The Manager asked Rachel, a slight hint of panic in her voice. And with her own panicked voice and a terrified expression on her face, Rachel looked at me. “They’re here… for her.” ======================================================= If you haven't seen, I'm now up and running on Subscribestar! (Sorry for the reminder again, trying to get my subscribers back after the Patreon rubbish!) Hoping to start the new SubscribeStar exclusive short stories with a trial run in January! if the first commission goes well, I'll see how many I can handle per month (thinking about 2 per month. These stories won't be posted here at all.) ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my patrons for their support over the past couple of years! Seriously, your support meant the world to me, and I hope to be set up somewhere new soon. New chapters of Little in Love 2 every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! Sorry, wasn't stuck on FF7, just had to get some food and stuff. But there you, new chapter I was in the middle of editing it when you posted this Enjoy the update!

Mom is home finally. Sore, but moving around. We're both exhausted from a long week

Daniel may have got out of Emmy's house but he still finds himself in a very strange situation. When help finally arrives he is hopeful that it is time to put all of the craziness behind him. --- Writing is my passion and my only source of income. If you enjoy my stories you may be interested to learn that you can see every update I post one week before the rest of the world with a $5 pledge on one of my subscription sites. There has been a lot of upheaval recently with Patreon purging a lot of ABDL content so I have tried to diversify a little so that I can continue to bring everyone stories. For just a $5 pledge on any of these you can see updates a week early and for $10 you can see all of my 50+ EXCLUSIVE stories only available to subscribers. The money I get goes to paying bills and putting food on the table so I appreciate all of my subscribers and would appreciate anyone who might be interested in supporting me to check out my subscription sites ❤️ https://subscribestar.adult/elfy https://reamstories.com/elfy --- “You can’t be expected to deal with that all by yourself.” Martina said as she looked down at the diaper, “And there’s no shower or anything available. Don’t worry, it’ll be good practice for me!” Daniel’s hand was taken before he could formulate any words and he was practically dragged to the changing table. In truth he would never be able to climb up on to the padded surface without showing some parkour skills on the shelves beneath it. He was lifted into the air and sat on the edge of the changing table. The distressingly familiar feeling of his stinky poop spreading all over as he sank into it made him wince and shiver. “Sorry…” Martina said though she was still smiling. Daniel laid back and closed his eyes as the tapes on his diaper were pulled at. He had thought this was all over but it seemed like he had to endure this whole routine one more time. He let his head fall to one side and he looked out at the nursery as the front of his diaper was lowered. It was only as he was wiped clean that he thought about the fact that all this baby furniture was the same size as Emmy’s stuff. “How come you have all this?” Daniel asked with a frown. “I told you last night.” Martina grunted as she wiped the young man’s skin clean, “I have a little one on the way.” “But it’s all so… big.” Daniel said. “I’m a big person.” Martina replied with a chuckle, “Now how about you be a good little boy and let me finish changing you, eh?” Daniel was so used to being referred to as a child from Emmy that he barely even noticed Martina saying it. He had his legs lifted into the air and pushed back over his head leaving him very exposed. As he was cleaned Daniel couldn’t help but be filled with questions. He was starting to feel very nervous about the situation. “Will I be able to use the phone after this?” Daniel asked. He jumped as he felt a cold wipe move over his sensitive areas. “We’ll see.” Martina replied. “It’s just-” Daniel started. “I know.” Martina was sounding a little exasperated now. Daniel didn’t think he was asking a lot and was still looking away when Martina’s hand suddenly appeared in front of his face. He was surprised until he felt the latex bulb of his pacifier get popped into his mouth. He looked up to Martina with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. “You have to keep quiet.” Martina said by way of an explanation, “You don’t want the other guests to hear you.” It sort of made sense to Daniel especially whilst on the changing table like this. When a new diaper was slipped under his butt he sucked contentedly on the soother plugging his mouth. It was only as the front was lifted up and over his crotch that he suddenly thought to stop proceedings. His hands shot down to prevent the diaper from being taped up. “Wait! Why are you putting another diaper on me!?” Daniel exclaimed. “What else do you want me to do?” Martina replied, “I don’t have any men’s clothing here. The only stuff I have that will fit you is in this nursery. Not to mention the bathroom situation… All the bathrooms are attached to customer’s rooms. There isn’t one in here.” “C-Couldn’t we ask another guest to borrow something?” Daniel asked desperately. His words were lisped around the pacifier. “Don’t be silly.” Martina shook her head with a smile, “Come on, I know it’s not ideal but it’s our only choice.” Daniel felt anxious about the whole thing but he couldn’t think of an alternative. He scowled as he moved his hands away and let Martina tape him into yet another horrible diaper. He had to keep reminding himself that he would soon be free of all this. “Right, down you get.” Martina said when the diaper was taped tightly closed. Daniel felt Martina’s hands under his armpits and he was soon in the air. His legs kicked out uselessly as he was lowered to the floor. His diaper crinkled loudly as he wobbled on his feet slightly. Martina turned away from the changing table and went over to the closet, she started moving hangars and looking through outfits until she finally pulled one out. “I don’t understand…” Daniel gasped as he looked at the outfit. Martina was holding a navy blue onesie with a sailing boat stitched on the tummy and a little white anchor over the heart. It even came with a little sailor’s cap. Daniel didn’t understand why he would wear such a ridiculously childish outfit. The feelings of unease grew to the point that he could feel the butterflies of anxiety in his stomach. He chewed on the pacifier for comfort without even thinking. “Like I said, I don’t have anything for you.” Martina said with a shrug, “These are the only outfits I have that will fit you.” Daniel let out a whine and backed up a few paces. He was getting a very bad feeling about this and even though it seemed impossible it started to feel like he had swapped one prison with another. Daniel forced himself to calm down insofar as that was possible and tried to look at the situation from a rational viewpoint. It was very likely true that Martina didn’t have any appropriate clothes for him. “If you put this on I will go downstairs and call the authorities.” Martina said as she stepped forwards, “As soon as they arrive you can leave, I’m sure they’ll have more appropriate stuff to change into.” “Why can’t I call them myself?” Daniel asked warily. “The phone is downstairs.” Martina said, “And I think it’s best you stay in the nursery. You might… upset the other guests if they were to see you.” Daniel frowned but knew Martina was right. He had no interest in being seen like this by any more people than necessary. So when Martina advanced with the onesie he compliantly raised his arms in the air and allowed the infantile outfit to be slipped over his body. Martina bent down to push the poppers together under his diaper and he felt the disposable getting pulled closer to his body. “Excellent.” Martina said as she stepped back, “Now you just wait up here and kill some time. Help will be here before you know it.” Daniel nodded his head and gave a nervous smile as he watched Martina walk past him and out the door. He heard the click of a lock as he was left alone and wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. At least no one would walk in on him unexpectedly. Daniel looked around the room and wondered what he was going to do. He had no idea how long the authorities might take so he could be facing hours alone in the nursery and there were only childish toys and games available to play with. He waddled across the room and sat down on a rocking chair he saw in the corner. He sighed and looked around the room with anxiety gnawing away at him. Daniel had expected to run away from Emmy and find salvation. He didn’t expect to still be wearing baby clothes and diapers, he didn’t expect he would still be doing such humiliating things as pooping his diapers. He folded his arms across his chest and let out a long sigh of frustration. At least it would be over soon, maybe one day he would be able to look back on all this and laugh. He wondered if he could sell the rights to his story and have it turned into a movie. He found himself daydreaming different scenarios about what might happen when he got home. There were many disconcerting things about Daniel’s current predicament. The one that started playing on his mind the most was the lack of noise coming from anywhere else in the building. He had been told the place was fully booked and that was why he had to stay in the nursery and yet he hadn’t heard a single footstep outside of the door. Daniel bit nails anxiously. As much as he didn’t want to admit it he kind of wished he still had a pacifier, the rhythmic sucking always seemed to calm him down a little bit. He likened it to have a shot of liquor for courage. As he chewed on the tip of one of his fingers he was struck with an idea. He looked around guiltily before sticking out his thumb and hesitantly placing it into his mouth. With a sigh Daniel felt himself somewhat calmed though he had no idea why. He suspected it was something to do with the feeling being familiar from childhood. Regardless he decided it was an acceptable way to calm his nerves, it wasn’t like anyone could see him in the nursery after all. It also didn’t make sense to just sit there going out of his mind with boredom if no one could see him either. Daniel slipped off his chair and started looking around the room. It was as Daniel was using his one free hand to look through a deep chest of toys that he finally heard some footsteps coming to the door. Daniel turned around and faced the entrance with his thumb still planted firmly in his mouth. He remembered it was there just as the door opened and he pulled it out with a wet plop and held it behind his back. “I have good news.” Martina said as she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. “Oh?” Daniel perked up. “Yeah, rescue is coming.” Martina smiled, “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” “Oh thank God.” Daniel sighed heavily. “Will you need a fresh diaper before you go?” Martina asked innocently, “It might be a long trip…” “I’m fine.” Daniel blushed as he looked down at the floor. “Alright, just wait here.” Martina said with another smile. “Well, actually, maybe I sho-” Daniel started but Martina was already closing the door behind her. Daniel sighed. The last thing he wanted was to be seen by the police in a nursery although with how he was dressed maybe it didn’t really matter. He would’ve done anything to have a change of clothes, then again maybe they would see him dressed like this and would have no choice but to take what he said seriously. He had to hope so. The next few minutes were an interminable wait for Daniel. He couldn’t help but think that at any moment Emmy was going to burst through the door and drag him back to her house. When he heard a distant knock on the front door he listened intently. There were loud voices and then footsteps coming up the stairs. Daniel stood in the middle of the room and nervously waited. When the door finally opened he held his breath. “She’s downstairs.” Martina said as she looked into the room. “W-Who is?” Daniel asked nervously. “Your help.” Martina said as she held the door open and stepped aside, “It’s safe. There’s no one else here.” “What about the guests?” Daniel frowned. “They’re all out.” Martina answered, “Most people come here to visit places nearby. I barely see anyone except for morning and night.” Daniel waddled forwards and out of the nursery into the hallway. He felt a palpable sense of unreality, the situation had left him grasping for anything that might be normal and he was coming up empty. He reached the top of the stairs and saw how large the steps were, it was just like at Emmy’s house. “I can carry you if…” Martina started. “Not necessary.” Daniel cut her off. He didn’t mean to be rude but he did not want to be carried around like a baby again. Martina put her hands up and waited patiently. There was only one way Daniel was going to be able to negotiate the large stairs. He sat down on the top step and slowly slipped forwards until his feet hit the next step, he then lowered himself down until he was sitting again. He distinctly remembered going down the stairs like this as a child, it was embarrassing but what was one more humiliation if it meant getting away from this area for good. It took Daniel a long time to get to the bottom of the stairs and by the time he stood up on the first floor he was out of breath and a little sweaty from the effort. He took a second and waited for Martina to come down, she pointed at the door to the little café area Daniel had been taken to the previous night when he had arrived. Daniel hurried over and eagerly awaited Martina to open it. As soon as the door opened a crack Daniel pushed through into a room that was completely empty of other people. He looked around wondering where the help was. “Hello?” Daniel called out, “Martina, I…” The door behind Daniel closed with Martina still out in the hallway. Daniel immediately felt a sinking feeling as he turned around and banged on the wood of the door. He couldn’t reach the handle and Martina wasn’t answering his increasingly panicky calls for help. “My, my… Haven’t we been a bad baby.” Emmy’s voice was perfectly calm. --- You can find out what happens next RIGHT NOW on my subscription pages: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1205028 https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyuiwxy1/chapter/fc5b5cc7-ff38-4c44-ae17-2d967c40c756

All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.

Chapter 9: Running Dry Mom’s eyes went back and forth between the sleeping bag on the floor and the uncovered mattress still covered in baking soda. Like yesterday, I had slept in much longer than intended because of how late I had finally fallen asleep after cleaning up after the fake bedwetting incident. Unlike yesterday, Mom had come to investigate why I hadn’t gotten out of bed at a reasonable time. I had woken up to the sight of her standing over me at the foot of the sleeping bag. The second night of waking up on the floor was less disorientating than the first. I knew right away both where I was and why I was there. I had intentionally peed on the bed, and Grace had helped me clean up. I stretched my mouth open in a wide yawn and rubbed my eyes. This was not how I had intended for my mom to find out about the bedwetting. I would have preferred a discreet conversation once I was fully awake rather than be wakened to her witnessing the aftermath of it. I had less control of my secrets than I thought I did. “What happened?” Mom asked. The question irked me. The answer seemed rather obvious. Why else would I be in a sleeping bag? And why else would all the sheets and blankets have been taken off of the mattress? Why was Mom insisting that I spell it out for her? I didn’t bother describing the elaborate dream I had made up for Grace last night. “Um,” I said, my gaze fixed on Mom’s slippers rather than her face. “It happened again.” Mom sighed. “I did tell you that you shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night.” That was true. Mom had caught me in the middle of drinking one more glass of water before going to bed. I had worried that it would have caused problems with being able to pee on the bed, but I still had been hydrated enough to do so. The last thing I needed was for Mom to be fixated on how much liquids I was drinking. “I was thirsty. And it’s not like that’s caused problems before.” “And it’s not like you’ve ever wet the bed before, much less two times in a row,” Mom said. “I think it would be good if you drank a little bit less in the evening.” There wasn’t anything I could say to argue back against that. From Mom’s perspective, it was a completely reasonable request. From what I could recall, Grace had been under similar restrictions back when she was a bedwetter. I would just need to be more discreet when getting extra water to drink today. There were footsteps in the hallway. Then Grace walked by, passing my open bedroom door on the way to her own bedroom. Mom turned around just in time to briefly make eye contact with Grace before my older sister scurried off. Great. Now, Mom and Grace both knew that each other knew about my bedwetting. Mom rushed over to close the door. “I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I’ll talk with your sister and make sure she respects your privacy. I should have closed the door behind me when I came to get you up.” “It’s fine. She found out last night. She helped me get it cleaned.” “Oh,” Mom said. “That was nice of her.” “Yeah,” I said. Best to get the full truth out. “She knows that I know about her past bedwetting as well.” “I see,” Mom said. “Still, I’ll have a talk with her later this morning. Did you start the washing machine last night?” “Yeah.” “Well, no one else has started on any laundry this morning, so it’s still in there. Please move it over to the dryer before you get in the shower.” Mom left the bedroom without giving me any further instructions. It was Sunday morning. That sucked cause it meant the weekend was already halfway over. The only good thing was that I only had one more week left of school before summer break. That also meant that our soccer tournament was continuing this afternoon. We had a game scheduled for right after lunch, and there would be another one early in the evening if we won. All that exercise would at least give me plenty of excuses to drink more water. I rolled up my sleeping bag and tucked it back in the closet. I stood and stretched for a couple of minutes before heading downstairs to move the bedding over to the dryer. I wasn’t super sore from having slept on the floor, but I was beginning to notice the effects of having done so for two nights in a row. <><><> Getting hydrated was a lot more difficult when everyone was monitoring how much I was drinking. My problems with getting enough to drink started as soon as I got home from the soccer match. I had gone through two bottles of Gatorade while I had been playing, but with how hot it had been during the game, I was sure I had practically sweated it all out. We’d lost three to zero in the sweltering heat, and the score would have been even more lopsided if not for some heroic saves by Angie, who was the team’s goalie. And that was the end of soccer – at least playing competitively on a team – until it was time to try out for the middle school team in the fall. There were some summers when I had played in a summer league with Angie and Emma, but with the lengthy vacation my parents had planned to celebrate my sister’s high school graduation, that wasn’t an option this year. That had been disappointing, but Mom and Dad had made it up to me by signing me up for a week-long, overnight soccer camp instead. After having taken a quick shower, I thought I had the kitchen to myself as I retrieved a plastic cup from the cupboard and grabbed the filtered water from the fridge. Still, it wouldn’t do to dawdle. I needed to drink the water quickly. I lifted the cup to my lips and tilted my head back as I began to chug down the water as fast as possible. It wasn’t fast enough. I had gotten halfway through the cup of water when I heard my sister’s voice behind me. “Not sure that’s a good idea.” The shock of hearing Grace’s voice, especially when I had been so certain that she had been tucked away in her bedroom, caused my hand to slip. Instead of continuing to pour the water into my mouth, I splashed a large amount onto my chin and T-shirt. I turned to face my sister. “Seriously, don’t sneak up on me like that.” Graced eyed the wet spots on my shirt as I wiped my chin dry on my sleeve. My face burned. It brought me back to how she had looked at me in the hallway last night when it had been my pajama pants rather than my T-shirt that had been wet. Grace grimaced a little, as if she wasn’t entirely comfortable with what she was about to say. “Look, I know from experience that, um, drinking as much water as you’re drinking right now isn’t always a good idea.” She looked around as if she was making sure no one was eavesdropping on the conversation and then leaned in closer to me. “Probably best to limit your liquids until bed unless you like waking up to change your sheets in the middle of the night.” My chest froze at that last whispered sentence from Grace. What, why would she think that I – or anyone – would like waking up to a wet bed? “What? I don’t like it.” Grace rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t like it. It’s just a figure of speech.” “But I can’t, like, not drink anything at all,” I protested. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t drink anything,” Grace said. “But, like, chugging a sixteen-ounce cup of water isn’t exactly going to make things easier on your bladder tonight.” It wasn’t as if I could very well argue with her about that point. My older sister was the expert on bedwetting, after all. I emptied the remainder of the water from the glass into the sink. I would need to find other opportunities to stay hydrated. That proved to be difficult. <><><> Grace had helped Mom and Dad set the table for dinner. We always sat in the same spot around the table. Our parents sat on one end together, with Jackson next to Mom, so she could keep him in line. Grace sat next to Dad, and I was sandwiched between my two siblings. The glass of water in front of my plate was technically full, but Grace had also filled it to the brim with ice, so there was only about half as much water in it as normal. Not that I could say anything about it at the moment. The last thing I needed was for Jackson to find out about the bedwetting as well. He would not handle it as discretely as I had with Grace when I was his age. I desperately wanted to excuse myself from the table to refill my glass of water, but I had a sinking feeling that Mom and Dad would definitely say something about it. They wouldn’t outright tell me that I should drink less to avoid wetting the bed – not in front of Jackson – but I suspected they would encourage me to drink less, and I didn’t want to deal with that embarrassing conversation. I stared at the glass of ice as I took another bite of spaghetti, as if I could mentally make the ice cubes begin to melt a little bit faster. By the time I was finished eating my spaghetti, enough ice had melted to allow me to have one more small sip before it was time to take the dishes to the kitchen for Grace to get them washed. The rest of the evening didn’t go any better. It seemed like every time I got up to walk past the kitchen, Mom, Dad, or Grace were in sight. That was a problem. I needed them to think I was wetting the bed naturally, like whatever genetics had caused Grace to be a bedwetter was now doing it for me. If my parents thought that the bedwetting was only due to how much water I was drinking, I worried they might focus on that rather than purchase pull-ups. I managed to sneak in a few sips of water here and there, but it wasn’t nearly as much as I’d had to drink the other night. I also put off going to the bathroom. The last time I had peed had been shortly before dinner. Even without as much to drink, if I went from then until midnight, surely I’d need to pee badly enough at that point that wetting the bed wouldn’t be difficult. <><><> It was a school night, so I was sent to bed a bit earlier. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when Mom peeked into the bathroom. “Madelyn,” Mom said. I took the toothbrush out of my mouth so that I could reply. “Yes?” “Make sure you use the toilet before you go to bed, OK?” “I will,” I replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I didn’t want to be treated like a baby who had to be reminded to go to the toilet, even if Mom did think I’d had two actually bedwetting accidents so far this weekend. I brushed my teeth for another ten seconds and then shut the bathroom door behind me. Was Mom still out in the hallway? I couldn’t tell if her footsteps had carried her all the way to the stairs or if she had just gone to her bedroom. There also hadn’t been a sound of any doors closing. That was a problem. The bathroom wasn’t very soundproof. Mom might be able to notice if I didn’t pee at all, as should would be able to hear me if I did go like she had asked. I didn’t need to pee all that badly at this point, but I did need to go enough that I shouldn’t have trouble peeing as long as I was sitting on a toilet rather than in my bed. I lifted the lid to the toilet seat, let my pajamas fall to my feet, and sat down. I had to find a way to convince Mom and Dad that none of their other methods of getting me to stop wetting the bed – limiting fluids and making me use the toilet right before going to sleep – were working. I needed to reach the point where they would give up trying to stop the bedwetting and switch their focus to limiting the damage from it by getting me pull-ups to wear. That meant that I needed to convince them that I was doing my best to avoid wetting the bed, so I would have to use the toilet now and try to figure out a way to still wet the bed later tonight. I didn’t have any difficulty in getting my bladder to release. The sound of the urine streaming into the toilet was proof that I had done exactly what Mom had asked me to. I had hoped that I’d perhaps be able to stop the stream mid-pee, giving myself a better chance to wet the bed later, but that wasn’t successful. Once my bladder started to empty, there was no stopping it until every last drop was out. I took a peek in my parents’ bedroom after leaving the bathroom. Mom was lying in bed on top of the sheets, reading a book. That was a problem. There would be no sneaking any more drinks of water tonight, not even the yucky tap water from the bathroom sink. The next two hours passed slowly. My eyes were sore from staring at my phone by the time I was certain that everyone was asleep. There had to be a better way of faking the bedwetting, but every alternative I’d considered so far had presented some sort of complication, something that would risk Mom and Dad – and now Grace as well – discovering that something was off about my bedwetting. I had to stick to faking the bedwetting in a way that looked perfectly natural. There couldn’t be any doubt in my parents’ minds that it was real. With the clock now past midnight, I still didn’t feel like I needed to pee at all, but I was determined to try either way. I sat on my knees on the bed for about ten minutes until I could barely keep my eyes open. It was the same routine I had followed the past two nights. I strained as hard as I could, trying to conjure pictures of water and rivers and streams in my head. It was no use. I couldn’t get anything to come out. My bladder was still too empty. I nearly lay down in bed in resignation, but another plan to fake my bedwetting suddenly sprang to mind. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

the scent of a well pissed bed

So apparently the allergy medicine made me loopy and I typed out a chapter where Steve the Squirrel had to save the family and entire dimension from evil dimension jumping chinchillas. Maybe I'll repurpose the delirious fever and medicine driven scene for a dream later. Gonna get some more sleep and edit the story and post the next chapter (sans chinchilla invasion) tonight. (Edit to admit something: The weirdest part was that Miss Bairn had a scene where she didn't even fight back, she just stared at the invaders like she was disappointed in them and they ran away. I may actually be subconsciously afraid of her character.)

Chapter 96: In the Can WE TOOK A short break before returning to the scene we planned to start with at ‘Grandma’s house.’ Fortunately, that was a pretty short scene that didn’t involve a lot of cast or resources. Beth was involved in the scene for the first time that morning, but her parts were minimal. Meanwhile, I’d had another wet diaper changed to maintain the continuity that my character hadn’t had one… ‘I’ll probably be visiting those changing stations this week,’ I admitted. There had been no reason to meet the HoloCaretakers I’d heard about from the other Littles in murmurs occasionally the past couple of weeks. They were better about changes than the Bigs. Still, some of them had actual nanny programming, and I’d heard pacifiers and forced bottles happened to a few Littles. I sighed and shook my head, clear of those worries, as we moved to film what was probably the worst scene of the whole project for me. I knew it was also the one that would probably make non-Littles wish they were me! At the action call, I followed behind Charlotte as she cradled a sleeping Beth. Beth’s performance as a sleeping child was quite believable, even as she was nursing a pacifier. We stopped filming at the base of the stairs, started again for the stairs twice, and finally reached the nursery our characters now shared. Charlotte placed Beth on the changing table and changed the artificially wet diaper she wore before dressing her in a purple nightgown. She was tucked into bed, still sleeping, even as I stood by and watched. That particular scene had to be filmed a couple more times so they could get Charlotte’s goodnight kiss just right. It was kind of a cool shot because they filmed her from one side, placing her down on the bed, before virtually removing the wall to let a prepositioned camera get the view from the other side with the wall gone. “Action!” was finally called in the last part of the scene. Charlotte turned from the bed and whispered, “Come here, Brianna.” My not-so-dry diaper was exchanged for a dry one before I was dressed in a miniature version of Beth’s nightgown. As soon as she was done changing me, she carried me from the room and downstairs to the living room. A comfy rocking recliner was against one end of the living room, with a baby blanket waiting on the top of the headrest. Charlotte wrapped me inside of it before I heard, “Cut!” “We good with all of that?” Sebastian asked Will. “It should? I think that worked well. The lighting was good, and we had good coverage as Charlotte carried her down.” “The footage from the camera on the dolly looked good and smooth, too,” Sophia noted. “Okay, Charlotte, go put on the MamaSkin, everyone else, take five!” “MamaSkin?” I asked Sophia as Charlotte sat me on the recliner and walked away. “It’s kind of like the bodysuit Beth has been wearing, but meant to be for an actress playing a nursing mother.” “Meaning?” I asked. “Meaning it’ll prevent you from getting a dose of breastmilk if Charlotte is lactating,” Isabella said from beside me. I blanched, “So I really am supposed to…” “Nurse?” Isabella asked before nodding, “Yeah, and unless you really do want to nurse Charlotte’s boobies, this is the only way to film it and have it look right.” “Not that most boys probably don’t dream of that,” Sophia joked. I rolled my eyes, but as I saw Beth descending the staircase, I asked the important follow-up question: “So what am I drinking?” Gary showed up right then, “Just some plain cow’s milk,” he said. “Promise?” Beth asked, coming up right then. “I even brought the sealed container to show you before we load her with it,” he said reassuringly. When Charlotte returned, I watched as they placed a couple of ‘bladders’ on either side of her that fed into hoses that least to nipples on skin that I would have been convinced was real if I couldn’t see the seams at close inspection. My limited time of seeing nipples in photos led me to believe it was as realistic as something could get. “Comfy enough?” Gary asked Charlotte. She shrugged, “Honestly, this is pretty weird.” “Better than giving the audience a look at your real chest?” he asked. She rolled her eyes, “Trust me, this will look real enough! I’m not sure which would be worse between the fake CGI images and this. I admit I always thought I’d make a lot more money for my first nude scene!” Everyone on set laughed at that. “Someone hand me my little girl, and let’s get this show on the road!” Charlotte said after getting her top back and settled into looking modest and normal. I was placed on her lap, and she gave me a reassuring squeeze as we waited for the crew to finish getting to their places. “Quiet on the set!” A moment later, I heard, “Scene twenty-six, take one!” “Action!” Charlotte made eye contact with me, and it felt like we had an exceptional connection at the moment as she soothingly said, “You’ve probably saved our company, Brianna.” I squirmed as if I was embarrassed and replied, “Hopefully?” “If nothing else, now I know who is responsible and to go after. I’ll call my lawyer first thing in the morning and get them to figure out how we get the police involved.” I shook my head, “It’ll have to be the Feds in this case. Rob and the others are looking at all sorts of Federal charges.” She nodded, staring at me for a moment before giving me a quizzical look. “You know, you could have just told me you couldn’t fix this, right?” I shrugged, “You’ve always been good to me, even before this.” “Even by me forcing you to be my adopted little girl?” “I could have run the other night...? I didn’t have to say yes?” Charlotte pulled me in tighter, “Why did you?” I chewed on the side of my cheek for a moment, looked down, and quietly said, “I knew you were a great mommy?” I looked up at Charlotte and saw several tears streaming down her face. I reached up and wiped one from her face as she gave me a small smile and choked back a sob. “I hope I can be...” she wiped the rest from her face. She suddenly looked down at her shirt, and as I followed her gaze, I realized there must have been another squib-like device, as a couple of moist spots appeared on either side of her chest. She looked down for a second before looking me back in the eyes. “I said I would give you a treat later?” “You already did? I thought that was the restaurant? I’ve never gotten to eat at any place like that before?” I paused, “The food was amazing!” Charlotte laughed, “For good reason, the only Littles there are adopted!” She smiled at me and tickled my stomach teasingly. “No... I had something else in mind that could help you adjust for these last couple weeks before we try potty training Callie again.” “What’s that?” Charlotte smiled at me as she said, “It’s a special mommy gift to you!” I forced my face to move to a panicked expression as if I had just figured out what was happening, even as Charlotte unbuttoned the shirt. I stared for a long moment before she physically adjusted me and placed my face at her nipple. I didn’t latch on right away, having been told to wait until she forced a latch on my mouth. As soon as I did latch, I began sucking away at the now-warm milk. “Cut!” I moved my head away from her chest and reassured myself based on the fact I could stop that it wasn’t breastmilk. “How was the take?” I asked as Charlotte straightened her top. “I think it worked,” Sebastian said. “I don’t think it would go any better if we did it again,” Will agreed. “Charlotte?” Sebastian asked. She looked thoughtful for a moment, “No, I think it worked fine. Let’s get me unhooked from this. Gary, can you get Beth and Carly into their last costumes, and we’ll film the final scene?” She looked at a clock high on the wall, “I think we might be able to get it all finished and in the can in an hour if everyone can hold off on lunch?” “Sounds good!” Will said. “Then take ten, and let’s finish this final scene!” Sebastian said. Charlotte gently leaned forward and let me down onto the ground. I walked with Beth and Gary back to the wardrobe room. My diaper was dry, so I managed to get onto the toilet and successfully went for the first time that day before being changed into a new diaper by Sophia and dressed in a grey sweater dress that was covered with a tessellating embossed series of hearts in the same color. The columns looked like lines from a distance, but it was cute. A diaper cover was pulled up my legs over my diaper, and I was turned over to Isabella. She had just finished putting Beth’s hair in a cute style with two little braids coming to the back of her head and a large bow to hold it in the middle. “There is no way that would last through a day of daycare,” I laughed. “With the nanites, it would,” Isabella said as she lifted me onto the chair we had been doing hair in for the past few days. “I forgot about that stuff,” I admitted. “It’s such an odd thing to use something so advanced on,” I told her. She shrugged, “We’ve had nanites commonly used for over thirty years; I don’t think any of us think it’s that advanced anymore?” “Huh,” I said. I felt Isabella working and knew she had to be making my hair match Beth’s. When Beth appeared in a matching grey dress herself, I knew we were indeed pulling the sisters’ look one last time in the film. BETH FOLLOWED CARLY out to the set as soon as Isabella finished with her hair. As much as she hated the look on herself, she couldn’t help but believe Carly looked absolutely adorable like this! The grey worked amazingly well with their hair and eyes, especially since everything in the playhouse and the daycare was so bright and colorful! As they came out to the soundstage, they discovered both the indoor classroom of the daycare setup and a play yard with the play house were set up and ready to go. Cameras were set up inside the playhouse, and it looked like one was set to do the same trick of making the wall go away that they’d used with the bedroom scene. She saw Charlotte just coming out of what Beth was pretty sure she had arrived in for the day. “Ready to wrap this up, you two?” “Definitely!” Beth said, “I never want to wear another of these outfits again!” Charlotte giggled at that, “I don’t blame you!” Ten minutes later, they began shooting with her, Carly, and a HoloCharacter inside the large playhouse. The HoloCharacter was about a foot taller than Carly but still shorter than she was. The character was playing with a toy pan on the stove, as Beth had Carly sitting in a ‘play’ high chair that was probably just one of those short convertible ones. She tried to spoon a fake spoonful of a jar of baby-pureed peas into Carly’s closed mouth. “You’re the baby; you have to eat it!” she whined at Carly. “But why am I the baby?” Carly whined back. “I’m older than both of you?” The HoloCharacter walked over and wore the sternest expression ever worn by a two-year-old girl, “You littlest, you baby!” Carly looked back at Beth, pleading with my eyes, but Callie said, “She’s right, you’re the shortest. Now sit in your high chair and let Mommy feed you.” Carly was about to fight more when she added, “I’ll tell Mommy on you if you don’t!” With a sigh, Carly pretended to eat the play food and did her best not to let the fake spoon hit her mouth. She managed to actually land it inside twice, though, and Beth smirked as Carly made a face as if she had sand or something in her mouth. When enough time passed that she would have seemed to get bored of it, she said, “All done! What a good baby!” Beth grimaced internally but forced herself to smile as she suddenly squatted and activated her PooPloder. A moment later, Isabella came in to play Miss Terry. “Oh, did you finish feeding your baby, Callie?” Beth smiled and bounced a bit, “Uh-huh! She’s a good baby!” Isabella knelt down, smiled at her, and then turned her around to check her diaper. “I bet she is. Since you’re done feeding her, we’d better change Mommy into a fresh diaper, huh?” Beth looked at her with a confused look, “Huh?” “You’re poopy, dear!” “Nuh-uh,” she started to argue but made a face that sold her suddenly realizing she was. “Bree, come?” “Sure,” Isabella said as she grabbed both girls’ hands and led them inside the daycare. “Cut!” Sebastian called. “Will?” he asked. “All good, I think?” “Charlotte?” He asked. “I agree, I can’t see anything worth refilming. Beth and Carly did a great job with that scene. I thought I was going to lose it when the spoon went into your mouth, Carly,” Charlotte said. Carly stuck her tongue out at Charlotte, “I’m just glad it wasn’t a real play area… can you imagine how gross and how many germs would be on those things?!?” Charlotte laughed, “Babies don’t care though, huh?” “Almost done, everyone; let’s get this final scene in!” Sebastian said. There was a flurry of activity on the set as they reset cameras and relocated a few dolly tracks to smooth out some camera movements. Finally, they stood on the other side of the door to come in, and the call to action was made. Beth awkwardly waddled and followed Isabella to the changing table with her fully loaded diaper. Beth held her arms up even as Isabella leaned over to pick her up and placed her on the changing table. As she placed the safety strap on Beth, she looked down at Carly beside her. “Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you here, Bree? But I guess you get to start potty training again next week!” Beth heard Carly’s sigh, “Mommy did say that.” Beth frowned deeply, “No wanna use potty!!!!” She then kicked her feet up and down at the end of the table in defiance! “No kicking, Callie!” Isabella warned. “Why not Callie? Being a big girl is fun! And using the potty isn’t a big deal?” Carly asked as if trying to defuse the misbehaving sister. “It’s boring! You have to stop playing!” “But…” Carly was about to argue when she went silent. Isabella was pulling the diaper cover down and the dress out of the way as she looked down at Carly. “Well, maybe you’ll both just have to find out how much fun you can have when you don’t have to stop playing to have your diapers changed!” “Bree, you still there?” Beth asked. Isabella patted her on the head, “She’s fine, she’s just having her own poopy moment.” “Bree poopy too!” Beth giggled. They filmed Beth being let down and Carly being placed on the table in her place. She winced as the contents of the PooPloder-filled diaper were pressed against her. Isabella quietly muttered, “You may never get out of diapers if she keeps that attitude up.” Beth watched from the side as Carly said the final line, “Don’t I know it!” They filmed the completion of the diaper change for good measure before Beth heard, “Cut!!!” Several minutes later, after reviewing the footage, Charlotte said, “That’s a wrap, everyone!” Cheers filled the room, as the crew felt they had done a lot of work to get there the past few weeks! “Okay, Connor, let’s go get you back to being Connor,” Gary said suddenly from beside them. “Cast photo first!” Charlotte insisted. “I guess,” he agreed. All of the crew crowded into the nursery part of the daycare and staged themselves, holding toys and rattles. A few even put pacifiers in their giant mouths. It was a cute photo they showed Beth and the others before they went to get changed. ‘I just hope we can get Carly figured out…’ she thought. Back in the wardrobe room, they helped Carly sit in the hair styling chair, and Beth watched Isabella first deactivate the hair nanites. A bow was still holding the hair in the back of her head. Still, the color seemingly instantly reverted to her usual dirty blonde, and her hair was a little more lifeless. Gary then came over with the tablet that controlled the gender nanites. “Okay, hopefully, this fixes everything here, Connor; you ready?” “Go for it,” Beth heard Carly say. As soon as Gary activated the system, Carly shouted in pain even as she briefly convulsed! When she stopped moving, everyone froze. It looked like nothing had changed!!! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like Button! I have some time off this week, so hopefully, I'll be able to get a bigger lead on chapters than I have right now. At a certain point, I may have to cut back to one a week to keep the flow going when my life gets nuts again in the fall. (It's always nuts, but sometimes it's worse than others!) Anyway, if this gets 25 likes by Sunday, I'll give you a bonus. If that one gets that, I'll probably be in the mood to give a third next week. This chapter answered many of your questions, but of course, some remain unanswered. Answers come in those next chapters! (Some of them, at least!) As always, if you enjoy my works, please consider purchasing the completed ones on Amazon Kindle! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter 8: Equals Grace clasped both of her hands over her mouth, holding back a muffled reaction that might have otherwise woken up the rest of our family. My hands remained on the front of my pajama pants, as pointless as it was to remain in the posture as I wasn’t able to fully conceal how I had peed myself. Neither of us moved. I couldn’t take my eyes off of my sister. As much as I had worked to avoid it, I had known that it was a possibility that Grace might find out about my faked bedwetting. As a former bedwetter herself, my older sister would be attuned to the signs that something might be off about me. And it was certainly better than having my younger brother or friends discover this secret. But of all the ways Grace could have discovered my fake bedwetting, this had to be among the worst. I had anticipated something much less dramatic and certainly much less embarrassing. I couldn’t stand in front of my parents’ bedroom door forever. That was not a feasible plan. There were only a couple of directions I go could. Returning to my room wasn’t an option. Doing so would require going toward my sister. I was definitely not going to do anything to wake up my parents at this point and turn my bedwetting incident into a whole family affair. Running down the stairs in the dark wasn’t an option, either. That left the bathroom. I dashed inside it with a few quick steps, closing the door as gently as I could while also shutting it quickly. I was safe. Safe, but trapped. I listened at the door, hoping that Grace would go back to her room and give me some privacy to get back to my bedroom and get cleaned up. At least let me change into a dry set of pajamas. I was having no such luck. I flipped on the light switch. Even if I hadn’t peed quite as much as last night, my pants didn’t appear any less soaked. Enough time had passed, and the wet clothes were already beginning to get uncomfortable as the initial warmth faded away. The expression on my older sister’s face had left no doubt that there had been enough light in the hallway for her to notice how wet my pajamas were. And she had been a bedwetter. If it had been Jackson instead, I perhaps could have tried to say I had just spilled a glass of water on myself. My six-year-old brother might have been gullible enough to fall for that, especially if he was still a bit drowsy. But Grace? No, she knew exactly what wet pants looked like from having wet the bed. I heard footsteps in the hallway. I held my breath. Then there were two soft taps on the bathroom door. There was some faint whispering from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. I breathed out. Grace wasn’t going to let me avoid having this conversation. I leaned forward and pressed my ear up against the door in an attempt to make out what my sister was saying. There was another series of soft taps on the door, followed again by my sister’s voice. This time, I could make out what she was saying, if just barely. “Is everything OK in there? I can help. Promise I’m not going to judge you or anything.” If I hadn’t known about my sister’s previous bedwetting, it might have been harder to trust that statement. But I figured that I could. She had actually gone through what I was only attempting to fake. I stepped back and pulled the door open. Grace at least had the courtesy this time to not stare down right at the wet spot on my pajama pants. But what was she thinking as she was looking at me? Did Grace see a reflection of herself from six years ago? If I were to go back and look at our old family photo albums from that vacation, it would be plain to anyone that I was almost an exact carbon-copy of her when she was my age. I realized that I probably looked the same to her as she had looked to me when I had watched her walk up the staircase in her wet pajamas six years ago. “I can help you get things cleaned up, but I really need to pee first.” I had been so absorbed in my own embarrassment and concern about what my sister was seeing and thinking that I hadn’t noticed how she was a bit fidgety herself. Had she perhaps woken up just in time to avoid having an actual bedwetting accident herself? Graced squeezed past me into the bathroom as I stepped out into the hallway and made a beeline back to my bedroom. That we hadn’t woken up our parents or Jackson was a minor miracle with how we had been going back and forth in the upstairs hallway. I used my shirt to pat myself dry after taking off my pajama pants and underwear. It wasn’t nearly as good as hopping in the shower to get myself washed off, but it would have to do for now. I turned and stared at my wet bedding. I just had to remember that it wasn’t like Grace hadn’t seen anything like this before. This had been her own nightly reality for years. The toilet flushed in the distance. I kept my back to the bedroom door. My hands were starting to shake. I tried to keep my mind focused on the prize at the end of the road. Soon, I’d be wearing pull-ups to bed each night. I’d only have to endure the embarrassment of peeing on the bed for a short while before I’d get those pull-ups. And then it would be incredibly easy to discreetly continue faking the bedwetting. The handle on the bedroom door rattled behind me as Grace made her way into the room, shutting the door behind herself. This was rare territory for my sister to be in. We typically respected the privacy of each other’s rooms, only opening them a bit if there was a message that needed to be passed along. Graced walked up beside me with her eyes fixed on the aftermath of my fake bedwetting incident. “Do you need a hug?” I nodded, leaning in toward my sister as she pulled me into a firm embrace and rubbed her hand on my back. My hands were no longer shaking a few seconds later. “It’s nothing to worry about,” Grace said. “I promise I’m not going to tell anyone about it.” I waited expectantly. Surely, if there was any time for her to bring up her own history of bedwetting, this would be it. It would make sense for Grace to use that as a way to try to comfort me. And that would be my chance, the chance to ask all of the questions about her bedwetting that I had been dying to ask the past few years. But, for whatever reason, Grace didn’t seem willing to bring that subject up. “So,” Grace said, her gaze again turned toward the bed. I thought back to the question Mom had asked me the other night. She had asked me if I had a dream about going to the toilet while I was asleep. That seemed like a plausible excuse to give to my older sister, though I provided more embellishment than I did with Mom last night. I described an elaborate, made-up dream to Grace, one that I hadn’t thought was a dream at the time, so when the urge to pee happened, I hadn’t realized that I needed to wake up to avoid peeing the bed. “So yeah,” I said, concluding the tale. “I thought I had made it to the toilet in time, but then I felt something wet, and I woke up.” “You probably had too much to drink this evening.” “No, I didn’t.” Grace gave me a bit of side-eye. “I recall that someone refilled her glass a couple of times at dinner.” “Yeah, that’s just the stir-fry was spicy.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad. So, anyway, were you going to tell Mom and Dad about the accident?” There was a truthful answer for me to give to that question. “I… I was going to ask for help with getting things cleaned up. But I decided I’d rather take care of it on my own.” “I can help bring things down to the laundry room. But you can’t go to bed before getting the mattress cleaned up. I’ll have to see if there are some cleaning chemicals that would work for it.” I helped Grace strip the bed. Like last night, there was a sizable wet spot on the mattress. The thin, cotton mattress protector wasn’t up to the task of handling things when an entire bladder was emptied onto it. There was no sign that Jackson or our parents had been disturbed from their sleep as we ventured out into the hallway and made our way down to the basement. Grace was carrying most of the bedding while I held my wet pajamas in one hand and my phone in the other to light the way down the stairs. How would I be reacting if I had actually wet the bed without intending to do it? I decided to try to play down the bedwetting accident. “I really don’t know what happened,” I said as I tossed my wet pajamas into the washing machine. “I’ve never had anything happen like this since like when I was a baby.” Grace gave me that look. The one that said she knew that was a terrible liar, which, a lot of the time, was true. “You didn’t wet the bed last night as well?” I tried to make my response sound as indignant as possible. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grace put her hands on her waist. “So, all of your bedding was in the dryer before breakfast for no reason at all? Like I said, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to lie about it.” My face suddenly felt rather warm. Here I was, thinking I had been quite sneaky in managing to get my bedding back up to my room without being caught. And Grace had known about it all day long and hadn’t said a single word to me. Grace’s curiosity was beginning to get annoying. Time to turn the tables on her. “So what? You were a bedwetter until you were my age.” Grace’s face momentarily blanched, and then she regained her composure. “Me, no. I don’t know what you are talking about.” It was my turn to get annoyed at my sister for not being truthful with me. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t need to lie about it.” It was Grace’s turn for her face to go as red as mine had a few seconds earlier. “How? That was forever ago?” I recounted the tale about how I had accidentally stumbled across the scene of her having wet the bed that time we had been visiting our grandparents six years ago, from overhearing her conversation with Mom to watching her walk up the stairs in obviously wet pajamas. The expression on Grace’s face told me that she remembered that fateful night as well. “Mom and Dad caught me after you went upstairs. They made me promise to not tell anyone about it,” I said. “They said I wasn’t to ever say anything about it to you, either.” My voice dropped off at the conclusion of the tale, and we stood silently as the washing machine begin rumbling after having filled up with water. My shame at having my bedwetting discovered had dissolved now that I had forced Grace to admit her own bedwetting past. We were equals now. I was now burning with curiosity. There were so many things I wanted to know. Chief among them was if Grace had ever worn pull-ups to bed. I desperately needed to know if that was something my parents had ever used with her. But there were other things I was curious about as well, such as information that could help me better fake my own bedwetting in the coming weeks. How often had she wet the bed? Did it typically happen at certain times of the night? Did she usually pee a lot or a little when it happened? It was as if Grace could read my mind. “I don’t want to talk about it, OK?” she said. “Let’s just get your mattress cleaned up, and then we can get some sleep.” I silently accepted her refusal to say anything further on the matter. With our secrets now revealed to each other, perhaps I’d get another chance to talk with Grace about it once she had gotten over the fact that I had known about her bedwetting for the past six years. We returned to my bedroom, stopping at a closet while Grace showed me which cleaning supplies would be best for removing the urine stains and odor from the mattress. She walked me through the process of drying and cleaning the mattress. That was going to be helpful for future nights when I would preferably be handling this process all on my own. “That should do it,” Grace said as she finished dusting the wet spot with baking soda. “That will need to be brushed or vacuumed off in the morning.” She turned around after taking a couple of steps toward the door. “You really should hop in the shower before you get in the sleeping bag. Otherwise, you’re going to wake up smelling like pee.” I suspected that this was advice Grace had learned from experience. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

Chapter 6: Not Going to Happen Again There had to be some kind of catch. I looked at my older sister in astonishment after hearing her spell out the favor she wanted. I really hadn’t had a clue about what the favor was going to be, but what she was asking wasn’t anywhere close to any of the guesses that had been swirling around in my head since she had done my homework for me yesterday in return for a then-secret favor. I guess I had just figured that it was going to be something a little bigger than what she had asked, or at least something that I otherwise wouldn’t have wanted to do for her. But this? It would be a piece of cake. Grace was taking us to the mall. She was supposed to stick with us as a chaperone the whole time. Instead, she was going to drop us off at the mall and return to pick us up four hours later. All I and my friends had to do was not say anything about it. “Well,” Grace said with a hint of impatience in her voice. Oh, yeah. I suppose she needed me to answer her and not just stand around gawking at her. “Yeah, of course.” And that was the end of that discussion. Grace left to head back to her room. I texted my friends the good news. I made no mention of the favor in the message to them. Nothing done on a phone was secret, after all. I really didn’t think that my parents looked through my text messages, but I wasn’t confident that they didn’t have the ability to do so if they ever wanted to. I still couldn’t help but question the situation. Grace was a good older sister, but her altruism had never extended this far before. What was in it for her? She would get four hours to herself, four hours when her time would be unaccounted for by our parents. What could be so important that she’d risk the fallout of her plot being discovered? For me, I couldn’t see any downside to it at all. Four hours by ourselves at the mall. That was going to be an easy secret to keep; it was not like I would have any incentive to tattle on my older sister. There was one other benefit for Grace, which I noticed once I went back downstairs. I suppose it didn’t hurt my sister that her willingness to take me and my friends to the mall also got her in Mom’s good graces. Mom was practically gushing about how much of a good older sibling Grace was. That was true, just not in the way that Mom was thinking. <><><> When my parents upgraded to a new minivan last year, they handed down the old one to my sister. The silver Toyota Sienna wasn’t the most fashionable of vehicles for a teen girl to be driving around. My sister had nearly thrown a fit when our parents told her that it would be her vehicle after she got her license. But a car was a car, and having one was a lot better than not having one. Grace skipped the turn that led to one of the two massive parking ramps on either side of the three-story mall and instead drove us right up to one of the entrances. “You guys have fun,” Grace said as she pulled over to the curb and put the van into park. “I’ll be back to get you right here at five. Any problems and you call me right away, OK?” I got out of the passenger seat, and Emma and Angie joined me on the sidewalk, but not without a little confusion. “We’re getting chauffeur service now?” Angie asked as Grace pulled away. Grace and I hadn’t said anything about the favor on the way to the mall. I had almost thought she had either forgotten about it or had decided to backtrack. And I hadn’t wanted to bring the topic up in front of my friends in case Grace had somehow decided to change her mind. “Oh no,” I replied. “We’re on our own today.” Emma and Angie both stared at me. “How in the world did you get her to do that?” Emma asked. I told them about how Grace had done my homework for me the other day, using that assistance basically as blackmail to get me to lie to my parents about the trip to the mall. The rules at the mall were that kids under the age of sixteen couldn’t be left unsupervised after 5 p.m. But all of our parents were stricter than that. We’d never been left on our own at the mall before. “You cheated on your homework?” Emma asked indignantly. She was a stickler for following the rules. I didn’t think that accusation was all that fair. “You heard what Mr. Thompson said. That’s for eighth grade. It’s not like we were supposed to be learning about it this year, anyway.” “Fine,” Emma said, her hands on her hips. “But what exactly am I supposed to tell my parents?” “You’ll tell them that Grace did an awesome job of taking us to the mall,” I said. “You’re saying I should lie to them?” Emma asked. “Do you want to go home?” Angie asked. “You don’t need to be specific. Just say Grace took us to the mall. That’s technically the truth, after all.” Emma sighed in defeat. “Fine.” “Then come on,” Angie said, heading toward the mall entrance. “What are you waiting for?” <><><> “I need to pee quick,” I said, excusing myself at the sight of the first restrooms we passed. The two full glasses of Kool-Aid I’d drunk with my lunch of leftover pizza had been a lot, even for my typically strong bladder. The restroom was nearly deserted. I stepped into a stall near the end. Staying hydrated like this was getting to be a nuisance. It would be so much easier to fake my bedwetting once I had pull-ups. I would need to have another conversation with Emma and Angie once I got back out to the hallway. Angie seemed on board with keeping the secret, but I needed to make it crystal clear to Emma that she had better be on the same page with us. My phone buzzed. I reached down to get it from the pocket of my shorts. It was a message from Mom sent to the group chat that we shared with her and my sister. She had asked how we were doing at the mall. Grace had already replied a few seconds later, saying that we were having a good time and had gotten there OK. I thought about joining the conversation but decided that the less I said, the better. Best to keep things simple if we were going to try to keep our stories straight. I started to head to the sink to wash my hands – which usually meant running them through the water for a few seconds – when something near the restroom entrance caught my eye. There was a woman leaning over a girl on the diaper changing station. That wasn’t an uncommon sight at the mall, and normally, I didn’t pay much attention to it, but this was different. The girl looked only a little younger than Jackson. Maybe old enough to be starting kindergarten next fall. She was certainly old enough that she should have been potty trained already. She barely fit on the diaper changing station indented into the bathroom wall. I walked over to the faucet that was the second closest to where the change was taking place. I usually rushed through washing my hands, but this time, I worked to scrub them as thoroughly as possible, taking slight peeks to the side every few seconds. There could be no mistaking what I saw. The pull-ups the girl was being changed into matched the designs on the ones I had seen in the magazine I had under my bed. This was a new idea, one that hadn’t even occurred to me before. The pull-ups were advertised as nighttime underwear designed for kids who wet the bed. But here was a girl who was wearing them during the day. I hadn’t even considered that possibility before, which made me feel a bit stupid. There wouldn’t be any reason why a pull-up worn at night also wouldn’t be effective during the day. It wasn’t like a pull-up would be less absorbent while the sun was out. But a girl not potty trained at that age? What was wrong with her? I figured it probably had some sort of special needs situation or disability. But as I continued to wash my hands, I caught snippets of the conversation between the mom and daughter: just idle chit-chat about what they were planning to do and see at the mall in what was an otherwise normal conversation for a kid that age, nothing different from conversations I’d had with my brother when he’d been that age. I averted my eyes – focusing on putting some more soap on my hands – as the mom finished putting a clean pull-up on her daughter and helped her to her feet. There wasn’t anyone else in the restroom when I at last finished washing my hands. I grabbed a large wad of paper towels to dry my hands off. The used pull-up was staring right at me on the top of the nearly full garbage bin as I went to discard the paper towels on my way out of the restroom. I paused for several moments as I stared at it. The questions it raised were ones I couldn’t even dare to let myself think about, let alone answer, for fear of the possibilities nibbling at the far reaches of my brain. I stopped at a drinking fountain after leaving the restroom, taking a few long sips of water. Had to keep up my hydration, as annoying as it was. I snuck up on my friends, both of whom were glued to their phones. I peeked over Angie’s shoulder silently to watch the videos she was scrolling through on TikTok. Dad was adamant that Grace and I shouldn’t use that app. He called it poorly disguised Chinese spyware. I couldn’t see why a foreign government would care about funny dancing videos. But he was the IT expert, so there was no changing his mind. I had to make do with gleaning information from my friends about what the latest social media trends were. “Boo!” I tapped Angie on her shoulder. She jumped and nearly dropped her phone. “You’re such a creep sometimes,” Angie said. “So, what should we do first?” Emma asked. “You decided that you’re good with being at the mall without Grace?” I asked. There needed to be no question about that before we did anything else. Emma bit her lip. “I won’t say anything. I promise. Let’s just not make a habit out of it.” “What do you think Grace is hiding?” Angie asked. “Has to be something she doesn’t want anyone finding out if she’s going to go to all that trouble to keep it secret.” “Maybe it’s a boyfriend,” Emma said. That didn’t seem likely. Grace had someone she’d gone out with for about six months during her junior year. Michael had been a bit of a jerk to me, though, so he wasn’t missed. “No,” I said. “Remember that boyfriend she had? She wouldn’t need to hide it.” “So, a girlfriend then?” Angie asked. That was an interesting question. But I thought of all the posters of boy bands that covered my sister’s bedroom walls. No, it was pretty clear where her interests lay. “No,” I said confidently. “That’s not her thing.” We considered a few other options, but nothing seemed to fit for Grace. We set the mystery of what Grace was up to aside, as there wasn’t any obvious answer we could find for her decision, and set off to explore the mall. As we walked down one of the mall’s many corridors, I thought back to that commercial that had aired on TV the other night. How my friend had laughed and mocked the idea of someone our age needing to wear pull-ups to bed. Their reaction hadn’t dissuaded me from going forward with the fake bedwetting, but it had reaffirmed the need to keep it secret at all costs. There were going to be a lot of sleepovers happening over the summer. My fake bedwetting shouldn’t be a problem as long as Mom had gotten me pull-ups by then. The ad on TV did tout the ability of the pull-ups to be discretely concealed beneath pajamas, but I wasn’t going to be taking that risk around my friends. I wouldn’t even have to wear the pull-ups to bed. I could just tell Mom that I did and then pretend that I must have had a rare dry night. So even if I was staying overnight at one of my friend’s houses, it wouldn’t be a problem at all. Bam. Someone’s shoulder hit me in the face, and I fell backward onto the hallway floor. A man standing over me cursed and then looked down at me. “Stupid kids, watch where you are going.” “Seriously, Mads, you need to pay attention to where you are walking,” Emma said as she gave me a hand and helped me to my feet. “What do you even spend all your time daydreaming about, anyway?” Angie asked. My mind immediately went back to that day three years ago. The way the pull-up felt around my waist. The way my reflection looked in the mirror. The never-ending longing to be able to finally relive that moment. “You look so adorable when you blush like that,” Emma said. “Shut up,” I muttered. I started to walk down the hallway, paying more attention to my surroundings this time. “Is it boys?” Emma asked as she caught up to me. “No, gross. Why would you even say that?” “Yep, definitely boys. I think someone doth protest too much,” Angie said. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. That was better than my friends knowing what I was actually daydreaming about. But not much better. As we made our way to the massive M&M candy shop on the far side of the mall, I had to endure their theories about which boy in our grade I must have a crush on. They went through practically every boy that was in any of my classes, weighing the pros and cons of each option, before settling at last on Ali, who was in my math class and was on the boy’s U13 soccer team for our soccer club. “Am I right,” Angie asked. I didn’t really feel like indulging in their game any longer. “No comment.” We had arrived at the candy store, which had every possible variation of M&M candies that one could want, and quite a few that I couldn’t see anyone ever eating. We filled a bag of custom flavors to share and munched on the chocolate candies while exploring the mall. We walked in a loop around each of the three floors in the three-story complex. We knew every spot in the mall that gave out free samples. There was a hot sauce place that Angie preferred. I only dared to sample the mildest flavors. I didn’t need any further motivation to drink more water. The beef jerky shop next door was my favorite. They even had alligator jerky for sale. Thankfully, there weren’t any samples for it. Besides that, we managed to get some samples of honey, chocolate, and sports drinks. We spent the rest of the time trying on a bunch of clothes. None of us had a bunch of spare cash to make any big purchases, but we had fun squeezing into changing stalls and taking videos and photos for Angie and Emma’s social media accounts. Dad probably wouldn’t approve, but he hadn’t ever explicitly forbidden me from appearing on my friends’ social media pages, and I had been smart enough to make sure that I never brought up that topic with him. Grace did a good job of covering for us with Mom. She texted me a couple of times to ask what my friends and I were up to, and then she dutifully used that information to update Mom about what we were doing. And when we were ready to leave, Grace was right on time to pick us up at five p.m. I took a look over at the dash in front of the steering wheel. My sister must have spent a sizable amount of time driving while we were at the mall. The gas tank was a lot less full than it had been when we’d left home. <><><> “How was your time at the mall?” Mom asked a few seconds after we had stepped in the front door. This was where I needed to live up to my end of the favor. I could see Grace giving me a look out of the corner of my eye, one that told me I better stick to our agreement or else. “It was great,” I said, giving my sister a smile as I looked in her direction. “It was really nice of Grace to take us.” And that was that. There wasn’t any interrogation of what we had done at the mall. That’s one benefit of being a kid who usually has a very difficult time with lying to their parents. Mom didn’t have any reason to suspect that anything was off. It wasn’t quite time for dinner. I grabbed a book I had gotten from the library, one about teenagers struggling to survive in a far-off dystopia, but I wasn’t really paying much attention to what I was reading. Outside of asking me to retrieve my bedding from the basement, my parents hadn’t even made the slightest hint at what had happened last night with the supposed bedwetting. That was both a good thing and a problem. It was good because I was supremely embarrassed by the situation. I still couldn’t get over the look on Mom’s face when she noticed my wet shorts while I was standing at her bedroom door or how Dad had craned his head around in bed to try to see what was going on. I was going to need to somehow work up the courage to do that again tonight. But there was a downside to their seeming indifference. Yes, it was only one accident, and they wouldn’t have any reason to expect that it was anything other than a one-off event, but the way it had been seemingly brushed off and forgotten about didn’t bode well for convincing them that pull-ups were going to be the solution to this bedwetting problem. And that assumed that they would know that the pull-ups were an option for me. I still didn’t know if they had ever had my sister wear pull-ups to manage her own bedwetting. I couldn’t imagine having to wash bedding every single day. The problem was I had been too young at the time to really recall if I had noticed anything out of the ordinary with my sister. It wasn’t impossible to believe that Grace had worn pull-ups and that my parents had gone to great lengths to keep the situation discreet. And by the time I had any interest in the subject, she had already long been toilet trained at night. I had secretly searched her room multiple times but had never found even the slightest bit of evidence of pull-ups. I made sure to finish my whole glass of milk with dinner. I didn’t get a refill. Having to drink one glass of it a day was bad enough. Usually, I would try to sneak into the kitchen and pour some out at the end of dinner. Mom gave me a brief smile as she noticed that both my plate and glass were completely empty as I went to drop them off on the kitchen counter near the sink. Dinners were a family affair. Grace probably would have eaten hers in her room if she had wanted to, but that wasn’t allowed. Still, she hid herself away in her bedroom, saying she wanted to work on some graphic design projects on her computer as soon as she had finished doing the dishes. That meant that game night was just me, Jackson, and my parents. He was old enough to understand the rules of Uno, but not quite old enough to handle having to draw four without coming close to throwing a tantrum. Dad took Jackson upstairs to give him a bath while Mom and I switched to playing a round of the card game Canasta. I was on pins and needles throughout our conversation as we chatted during the game. There were so many secrets that I was juggling. My desire for diapers. The fake bedwetting. My algebra homework. Grace leaving us at the mall. I tried to keep a straight face through all of it, but I must not have succeeded. It was Mom’s turn, but she set her cards down. “Is everything OK?” What did she suspect? Did she know? A wave of guilt ran over me. I came perilously close to blurting everything out right then and there. Mom reached forward and touched my hand. “You don’t need to worry about what happened last night. You remember how I told you that your sister used to struggle with wetting the bed? And that was several times a week for quite a number of years. It’s not something you can control. That’s why it’s called an accident. We never punished or embarrassed Grace for it, and it’s not going to be any different for you.” “Yeah, it’s just…” I struggled at trying to figure out what I was supposed to say. “Don’t let it bother you.” Mom said. “You’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight, and it will be a distant memory in a couple of days.” That made me feel quite guilty. My sheets weren’t going to stay dry tonight. That was out of the question now. If I were to convince Mom and Dad to get me pull-ups, it would take a lot of consistently wet nights. Plodding footsteps coming down the stairs told us that Dad was done getting my brother ready for bed. That meant the upstairs bathroom was ready for me. I was extremely glad the conversation about bedwetting had wrapped up before his return. “Make sure you brush your teeth for two minutes,” Mom said. “Oh, and Maddy, don’t forget to use the toilet as well.” I got up to head upstairs right away, much faster than I normally would have obeyed a request to go brush my teeth. I hoped Mom wouldn’t see how badly I was blushing at her reminder to pee before going to bed. I hadn’t managed to drink quite as much water as I had done yesterday. That, combined with the fact that I didn’t even need to pee nearly as much as I had at this point last night, meant that it would probably be best to get some additional liquids in me before I retreated to my bedroom. I could have drunk some water from the bathroom sink. That would have been the discrete thing to do. But I hated the taste of the tap water at our house. It was bad enough that I needed to brush my teeth with it. That was the main reason I often tried to skirt that nighttime responsibility. Instead, I tiptoed down the stairs. Mom and Dad weren’t in sight. They were probably watching one of their more adult shows in the family room. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and pulled out a filtered water jug from the refrigerator. I filled the glass about halfway up. That should be enough to ensure that I’d be more than able to pee on the bed in a couple of hours. I raised the glass to my lips, taking a few long sips of the cool water. It was a much better choice than trying to drink from the bathroom sink. “Maddy,” Mom said in a tone that suggested she wasn’t that happy about what I was doing. I lowered the glass from my lips. Mom was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. I looked down at the nearly empty glass. “What, I’m thirsty?” “You probably shouldn’t be drinking that much water right before you get into bed,” Mom said. “That doesn’t help with staying dry at night.” “Oh,” I said, trying my best to pretend that I hadn’t even thought ahead to the possibility that drinking more would cause me to wet the bed. I set the glass down on the counter. I would have preferred to have finished it. I would have to settle for a few sips of tap water upstairs instead. I put on what I thought was a good display of confidence. “Relax, Mom. It’s not going to happen again.” --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

Me too. Plastic bags, kitchen roll, sellotape: Leaked like a sieve. Later on I'd buy the biggest pampers I could, cut two up and tape together to make one: Leaked like a sieve. I didn't try my first adult disposable until I was in my 20's (Tena Super - solid green) - it was a revelation (although they still leaked, didn't they?).

I mean, surely us littles wouldn't completely abuse any technology just because we thought it was super amazing and could do anything we want it to with absolutely no side effects.

Cloth

Priscilla believes that Sarah will stay the course, but I'm not so sure. Sarah wants to rule her household with an iron fist, but she will soon learn that it will never happen. The head of security (Priscilla) will be the ultimate decision maker.

Yes, I noticed that too. I always took it as his sense of humour, and that scatological things add to a type of horror as a "gross out" thing. He has some interesting discussions of types of horror and that was one of them.

I read Gerald’s Game about 3 years after I realized I was in fact ABDL, going back and re-reading older Stephen King and subsequently later Kng novels, I have realized that about 95% of his works include at least a single mention of diapers, bed wetting, pants pissing or messing. Not implying King is ABDL, but obviously he finds anything infantilizing, horrifying

Thanks! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far! That's definetly something I considered when writing the first couple chapters, but without giving any upcoming details away, I decided to start the story off with Roxie not knowing about Emma's more dominant side The main theme I settled on for the story is embracing the things that the characters have either tried to hide from others, not just the secrets Roxie was hiding. I guess I could've portrayed that a bit better in the dialogue though 😅. I think you'll find a lot of satisfaction in Chapter 4 though *wink wink* I'm glad to see people enjoying this work! It means so much to have people like the words I've put to the page...or tex in this case 😁. I'm currently working on writing the next few chapters, and I plan on dropping 2 or 3 at a time to give a decent amount of material for you all to digest. So stay tuned!

That's an interesting thought. I have had a lot on my mind this week, and not a lot of it had anything to do with whether or not I would wet the bed, or, diapers in general. They were just kind of a background process - I wore them, wet them, and replaced them responsibly, but I didn't give it a lot of thought. I had a team of colleagues in the area and we did some site visits in tandem that, added up, constitute more time with my workmates and more time on site in the last week, than I experienced in the previous 3 months. So maybe not thinking about bedwetting is the key to bedwetting. That, and drinking more. I think I may be the man for this assignment... Every once in a while. Most of the time, if they comment, it is entirely of their own accord - if I ask my wife if my diaper is visible under a particular outfit, I'm just as likely to get a potshot as I am to get usable feedback, so I don't tend to invite that unless I really need an opinion. For example, with dressy clothes for work or social functions, or, if I've bought something new, I might ask my them if "this looks okay" or if I can "get away with wearing this." A couple of times my wife has suggested wearing one of "your bodysuit thingies" (a onesie), for example. I don't often take my wife or either of my daughters out shopping for clothing with me, because our philosophies and objectives around that activity are entirely discordant. I like to go to the first place I think will have the thing I need, buy it in the size I know fits me, generally not try it on, and walk out of there, pronto. The exception to this are things that I know will need to be fitted, such as suits, or, if I'm on the ragged edge of a size, I might try a couple of sizes out over a realistic diaper, just to make sure I'm not fooling myself into believing that I've slimmed down enough to wear something that I will later regret buying. But I do that in the privacy of the dressing room. They like to go to 20 different places, try everything on, quite possibly buy nothing, and then go back another day and try stuff on again a few times, before buying it. They have taken me shopping for things before, and I'll put up with modeling a couple of items, but I'd rather be dragged behind wild horses than spend a day traipsing through a mall and looking at myself in a mirror repeatedly. On another topic, I am, I guess I could say, proud of myself today... I've spent the day in a cloth diaper and (printed) plastic pants. I am trying to push through my squeamishness about wearing them in front of my wife, although for the most part, I have been clothed. She did see me in them this morning when I was brushing my teeth, and later, I changed out of pajama pants and into jeans in our room while she was chatting to me about an upcoming trip. After that, I was sorting clothes and trying to figure out what could go away for the summer (on the probably incorrect assumption that winter weather is nearly over for us), and what could be donated or burned. During that process, she was coming and going from our room. One unanticipated side effect of being "the diapered one" in the house is that it's become harder to achieve privacy... I guess the general assumption is, I don't need it? If I'm in the shower or in the washroom with the door closed, usually I will get at least a knock before the door is opened, but in my room, no such courtesy is extended. Maybe it's because my kids and my wife are female, and so they don't worry about privacy much among themselves. But, whereas I would be loath to throw open one of my kids' bedroom doors without knocking and getting an affirmative response, they just toss the door open into our room all the time. Or, as happened today, my wife throws the door open and goes walking out without closing it behind her. I was trying shorts on and sorting them according to if they fit or would likely fit in the near future, or if they should be relegated back into long-term storage, and was in a t-shirt and plastic pants, when she left the room to go get something from our guest bedroom, so I went over to close the door behind her... and nearly came face to face with my daughter, coming down the hall to use our bathroom. Sigh.

A welcome update. Glad to see someone actively resist forced breast feeding; it's a welcome departure from the same old, same old. Well done.

This was inspired by a piece of art by Bojay. Through the Mirror Chrissy woke up and thought for a minute, did she feel any different? No not really. She thought she would, after all it was her thirteenth birthday. She figured now that she was a teenager she would feel something. Nope she felt the same as always. Maybe she looked different. She could hear her mom calling for her to come down to breakfast, but she had time to look at the mirror and see if she looked any different. She walked over to the mirror and looked into it. She didn’t think she looked any different, but something was different. Her room looked wrong. That was it, but why would the mirror show her room wrong. She reached out to touch the mirror and her hand sank right into the mirror. That was definitely wrong, so she yanked it back out. Her hand looked okay, but how had it sunk into the mirror. She reached out to touch the mirror, again and again her hand sank in. She could still feel it and it didn’t hurt, that was good, but what was on the other side of the mirror. Her curiosity was aroused and she figured if she didn’t like it she could always come back. Boldly she took a step forward into the mirror, and she passed right through it. Coming out the other side, something was very wrong. She looked around and everything was huge and so high up. The floor was much closer also, then she realized that she was crawling. Why am I crawling and why is everything so big she thought. She sat down and that felt wrong, she looked at her crotch and saw that she was wearing a diaper. She turned back to the mirror and saw a very pretty baby girl looking back at her. A tear started down the cheek of the baby in the mirror, and she felt one on her own cheek at the same instant. She realized that she was the baby in the mirror and reached out to touch the mirror, hoping that she would fall through. Her hand felt the cold glass of the mirror. She starting crying in earnest now, flailing with her pudgy hands at the mirror. Her mother came into the room to answer the crying of her child, “Chrissy how did you get over here?” She picked up Chrissy and tried to comfort her, but could not. Even telling her that she should be happy, because it was her first birthday didn’t help. That even seemed to make her cry more. Slowly Chrissy’s memory of what had happened faded although she always looked at the big mirror warily. She grew up, made friends, and went to school. Until one morning when. Chrissy woke up and thought for a minute, did she feel any different? No not really. She thought she would, after all it was her thirteenth birthday...

Part 7: After the tumultuous group session, Dr. Simmons secured Jacob’s newly written diary of shame around his neck and passed him off to yet another orderly. There was so little continuity in his care that he scarcely glanced at her face as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders to guide him down the hall back to his room. His diaper drooped heavily under him, and Jacob worried that he might be leaving a trail of brown fluid in his wake. Others made a broad path for him as he passed, but his current attendant talked to him kindly as if she didn’t even notice the foulness. “Good boy, Jacob,” she praised him. “That’s it. You know how to get back to your room. I bet you will feel good once we get you in a clean diaper.” He wanted to take comfort in her kindness, but after the day he’d had, it just made him wonder if this new woman thought he couldn’t think past the contents of his diaper, that he didn’t know how to walk down the hall to his room. At least Miss Kristen’s disdain made him feel that there was at least some expectation that he could be better than a drooling infant. "There we go, Jacob, let's get you into a nice, fresh diaper," she chirped as she helped him climb onto the changing table and pulled a strap against his mid-section to ensure he didn’t fling himself off. As she unfolded the used diaper, the room was filled with the pungent odor of Jacob's uncontrolled release. The smell was acrid, a potent mixture of ammonia from the urine and a heavier, more suffocating odor from the feces that had been confined against his skin for too long. With the diaper opened, the orderly's face tightened for a moment, a professional mask slipping at the reality of the task ahead. The mess was substantial, coating Jacob's genitals and bottom in a way that made the cleanup not just necessary but arduous. Without a word, she folded the front of the diaper down, ensuring the soiled interior didn't come into contact with Jacob, yet leaving it under him as a protective layer for the changing surface. She began with wipes, each one drawing across his skin with a cold, damp touch that was startling each time. The wipes were thorough but gentle, moving methodically over his skin to remove every trace of the mess. She had to pay particular attention to the head of his penis, and Jacob closed his eyes and willed himself to avoid yet another humiliating erection. As she worked, she revealed the irritated skin beneath, which stung as the cold wipes worked against it and tingled in the open air. As the mess covering his front diminished, she scooped Jacob's knees up in one hand to lift his bottom off the ground. Her hands were gentle, but each touch, each wipe, each shift of his body only emphasized how she perceived him: utterly incapable. Once she had cleared most of the mess, the orderly disposed of the soiled diaper and prepared Jacob for a fresh one. Despite the clear need for a soothing treatment, she strictly adhered to her orders, leaving the reddened skin untreated and exposed. Jacob couldn’t help but groan as the new diaper was sealed around him. He instinctively moved his arms to try to reach his stinging groin. Desperate for some kind of relief. “Now, now, those restraints are there to keep you from touching your little pee pee,” the orderly chided. As she fastened the last tape on his new diaper, a sudden commotion outside the room caught her attention. Her head snapped towards the door. "Oh dear, what now?" she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to Jacob. With an apologetic glance, she hurried off, leaving Jacob on the table. Left alone, Jacob's first instinct was a surge of relief — relief from the infantilizing treatment, if only for a moment. He was still restrained and strapped to the changing table, in full view of anyone looking in through the window, but he was alone in this room with no one to taunt him. Jacob lay there waiting for the orderly to return for a while; he didn’t know how long. The room grew quiet as the chaos outside seemed to have resolved or moved elsewhere. The straps around his waist and the restraints keeping his hands linked to his neck made any significant movement a challenge. Yet, he was realizing that he may, for once, have actually been forgotten about. It was unclear how long he would be left strapped to this table before someone remembered him. He began to carefully test the restraints, feeling for any slack that might offer him an opportunity. The strap around his waist was secure but not beyond manipulation. With a mixture of resolve and ingenuity, he contorted slightly, straining against the limitations imposed by the restraints binding his hands to his neck. It was a painstaking process, each small shift bringing him incrementally closer to the buckle of the waist restraint. He sucked against the pacifier still lodged in his mouth as he tried to draw in more air. The fresh diaper crinkled loudly with every move, making Jacob pause and worry that someone might pass by and hear it outside, but he knew that was absurd. Loud as it was, it couldn’t be that loud, right? Bit by bit, Jacob managed to maneuver his restrained hands towards the buckle. His fingers, clumsy from the awkward positioning, fumbled with the fastening. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers caught the edge of the buckle, and with a careful tug, he loosened it enough to wriggle free from the strap's hold. The sense of achievement was immediate, a small victory he needed to not fully buy into all Dr. Simmons said about him. On the edge of his changing table, Jacob paused, his feet dangling as he assessed the drop. It wasn't far to the floor, but the restraints around his hands and the uncertainty of his balance made the descent daunting. Carefully, he slid further until gravity took over, and his feet made contact with the ground. He was right to be concerned as he immediately fell backward, landing with a muffled thud on his diapered bottom. The impact was jarring but not as painful as it could have been—his diaper served as an unintended cushion. He felt like a toddler, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him and his thick diaper ballooning between them as his arms dangled from his neck, but at the same time, Jacob felt a surge of freedom. He was still within the confines of the room, his movements hampered by the restraints, but the act of getting off the table on his own was a small victory against his current state of dependency. Emboldened, he moved towards the door, where he cautiously peered out into the hall. The hallway was mostly empty, save for an orderly stationed at a desk some distance away, engrossed in paperwork. Jacob watched for a moment, the orderly's obliviousness to his observation granting him a sense of invisibility. However, the risk of being seen was too great, and he quickly ducked back into the room. Jacob fiddled with his hand restraints. The buckles, designed to prevent exactly this kind of manipulation, held fast, leaving him to confront the futility of his situation. He harbored a faint hope that the day's activities might have loosened the straps enough to allow for an escape. However, as he twisted and turned his wrists, the reality set in without resorting to the extreme measure of dislocating his thumbs; freedom remained out of reach. He looked in the bathroom mirror at himself. His arms restrained close to his body, the diary of the day's events dangling around his neck, and the pacifier that dominated the bottom of his face. He didn’t dare move the diary. Jacob worried such a move might result in Dr. Simmons having his failures tattooed against him or something far more extreme than a pad of paper with barely legible script. But as he saw the strap for the pacifier more clearly now, he realized he could work that out of his mouth. The size of the bulb made it difficult, but with the help of his hands, which easily reached his face, he could wiggle it out. His jaw ached from the relief of being free from the gag. He yearned to speak, to fill the silence with his voice, but the risk of drawing unwanted attention kept him mute. In the mirror, Jacob could see the damage left behind by the pacifier. His skin was deeply indented to such an extreme that there would be no doubt what had been in his mouth. He rubbed at the skin, wondering how long it would take to bounce back if it would bounce back. He moved next for this collar but couldn’t find the buckle. Contorting himself, he finally saw in the mirror that there was some kind of clasp covering it, but he couldn’t work it out. The knowledge that his restraint was somehow smarter than him reminded Jacob of all Dr. Simmons had said. He looked back on his education; there were As in English and math, but he also remembered taking a life skills class where they prepared him to balance a checkbook and fill out a timesheet. He’d never played sports or had many friends because of his size and condition. Was his degree a delusion? Were his classmates all other students in special ed? He made his way to the bed. The restraints were laid open in anticipation of his return, making it less inviting as a place to relax. Yet, exhaustion from his exertions compelled him. After several awkward attempts, he managed to settle into a position that was not entirely uncomfortable. He drew the blanket at the bed’s base over himself. In this small, personal space, he curled up, hoping to blend into the background, to be forgotten in the aftermath of the day's events. He drifted to sleep. When Jacob next woke, the sight that met his eyes was not welcome. Miss Kristen had returned. The golden hue flooding the room through the window told him it must be evening. She pulled back the covers, revealing the soaked diaper. Jacob hadn't eaten since breakfast, and his stomach growled. "Wakey wakey, Jacob! Looks like you've had a busy day," she said with a jovial tone that caught Jacob off guard. She spotted the notepad around Jacob's neck and wasted no time leafing through it. Reading aloud, she found each entry more amusing than the last. “‘Couldn't stop myself from humping my diaper in the bouncer.' Oh, Jacob, well, we already knew you’re public masturbartor, not too surprising!! 'Drank from a bottle,’ 'Couldn't finish simple patterns,' 'Failed IQ test.' Not the brightest, are we? And what's this? 'Exposed for lying about graduating high school when I was in special ed, not real school.' Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, honesty is the best policy," she tsked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. Miss Kristen paused for effect before reading the last entry, "'Pooped in my diaper in front of the whole group after claiming I could hold it.' A grand finale indeed!" Her laughter filled the room, devoid of any empathy or understanding. “But Jacob,” she paused, grinning at him and grabbing his face with one hand, forcing him to pucker his lips like a fish as he looked at her. “Your day isn’t over, yet!” she threatened with a punctuated slap to the front of his diaper, which, if Jacob wasn’t fully awake yet, was enough to jolt him to attention. “What does that mean?” Jacob asked and almost recoiled at the sound of his own voice after not hearing it in so many hours. Miss Kristen stopped her movement to get up and fetch a gown from the changing table when he spoke like she, too, was surprised to find he could speak. Her eyes widened in the realization that, of course, he’d been gagged during their last interaction. "Oh, Jacob, I see we've decided to be naughty and lose our little pacifier," she said, her tone threatening. "But don't you worry, your mouth will be full again soon enough," she added cryptically, her words heavy with an unspoken promise of further interventions. The nature of her statement left Jacob uneasy, the ambiguity of her words casting a shadow over the momentary sense of victory he had felt at discarding the pacifier. Miss Kristen retrieved a hospital gown from the changing table and reached around Jacob’s neck, releasing the collar more easily than Jacob expected, given his earlier difficulty. She spent longer undoing the restraints that bound his hands. “Now, just because I’m releasing you doesn’t mean you should stick your little hands down your wet diaper, Jacob. That would be yucky.” The release from the restraints brought both physical relief and a reminder of the reasons behind their necessity. Jacob's arms ached as blood flow returned to normal. Miss Kristen continued, removing his sweatshirt, sliding the hospital gown over his arms, and securing it behind his neck. She left the waist tie undone so that Jacob’s diaper was on full display when he stood. His stomach grumbled again in hunger. "Don’t worry, Jacob, I’m taking you to dinner," Miss Kristen told him with a look that suggested he should worry about what was on the menu. Jacob was surprised when Miss Kristen, with her characteristic hold on the back of his neck, guided him towards the ward’s exit and into the main wings of the hospital. As they walked, he sensed she was deliberately choosing the most circuitous route. They wandered through a labyrinth of hallways, passing various wards and a multitude of hospital staff and patients. Jacob’s diaper wasn’t so wet to droop, but he’d released enough to make the padding grow awkwardly, and a small yellow tint was plain to all who looked. The whispering and sidelong glances from those who passed were unmistakable, adding layers to Jacob's profound embarrassment. Eventually, they arrived at an unexpected destination: the maternity ward. The sounds of newborns and the sight of new mothers were out of place for Jacob's current situation. Miss Kristen, however, appeared unfazed by this incongruity. She opened the door to a room within the ward, revealing a woman sitting on a couch. She had a matronly appearance, with large bosoms and a kind yet somewhat imposing presence. Her eyes landed on Jacob, taking in his state with a quick, discerning glance. Miss Kristen, with a grin still playing on her lips, announced their arrival. "Good evening, Mrs. Green! Brought someone to see you.” Jacob stood there, the open back of his gown and his wet diaper on full display, feeling utterly out of place in the maternal setting of the room. As Miss Kristen left, closing the door and leaving him alone with the woman, Jacob felt a new surge of apprehension. The woman, her demeanor matronly yet commanding, beckoned Jacob closer with a gesture that brooked no refusal. When he neared her, the woman stood, her presence even more imposing up close. She inspected his diaper, her touch invasive as she prodded the padding. "Oh dear, what a state you're in," she remarked, her tone laced with a mixture of pity and scorn. "A grown man, yet so utterly helpless and pathetic. It's quite a sight, isn't it?" She pulled open the back of his diaper and peered inside. "I've been informed about your delusions, Jacob. You seem to have trouble accepting how infantile both your mind and body really are. Part of your resistance, it seems, is tied to your fears about intimacy." Finding nothing, she moved back around to his front, running her hand over his diapered penis and making the fabric crinkle loudly. "You think accepting your true state will rob you of any chance at intimacy in your life. But Jacob, intimacy isn't just about physical connections. It's about accepting who you are and finding someone who understands and cares for you in that state." In his current state, the idea of intimacy seemed an impossible, almost cruel concept to Jacob. "You need to embrace your reality, Jacob," she continued, her tone firm. "Only then can you understand what true intimacy might look like for you." She couldn’t quite be certain given the thickness of the padding, but she felt confident Jacob’s pee pee had stiffened beneath the sodden fabric. She sat back on the couch and motioned for Jacob to sit beside her. Jacob's stomach grumbled audibly as he sat down. With an unexpected gentleness, she guided Jacob into her lap, cradling him. "I heard you forgot to eat lunch, Jacob," she gently scolded. Jacob started to resist, to protest that this wasn’t a true statement. He didn’t forget; no one came to get him, but she simply placed a finger over his lips and continued to cradle him tightly. "It seems you really do need someone to look after you, like the baby you are." The woman's voice dropped to a whisper, heavy with seriousness. "Jacob, Dr. Simmons says you need to experience something the type of intimacy someone with an infantile behaviors like yours can appreciate. She thinks it's essential for you to learn to breastfeed." Jacob's heart skipped a beat at her words. The idea was absurd, beyond anything he could have imagined. As an adult man in a psychiatric hospital, the notion of being taught to breastfeed was as surreal as it was unsettling. He couldn't make sense of it or grasp how this could be part of any legitimate treatment plan. The woman, however, continued to speak with an air of conviction, her gaze never wavering. "You see, Jacob, breastfeeding can create a unique bond and sense of security. It will help you realize how helpless you are." She gently patted the front of his diaper as if he needed any reminder as to why everyone thought he deserved to be treated this way. Mrs. Green, undeterred by Jacob's obvious shock, maintained her nurturing yet firm demeanor. "Jacob, I know this is difficult for you to understand, but you must admit part of your body is up for the occasion.” She squeezed the area of his diaper where she knew his penis would be. “Now, it’s too small for me to feel, but I bet that little wee wee of yours feels very good now that you’re so close to such large breasts.” She easily unlatched her shirt and bra, clearly designed for easy feedings, so her large breast fell out. Her hands were warm and reassuring as she guided her nipple to his closed lips, teasing it against them. "Open your mouth, Jacob," she instructed, her voice patient and maternal. Jacob closed his eyes, wondering what would happen if he had just said no. If he got up and tried to run away. He would probably end up right back here, but in a straight jacket, he considered and opened his mouth to accept the woman’s nipple. "Just like that, Jacob. Relax and let it happen." The woman continued to rub his diaper, ensuring it crinkled with each stroke as he began to suck on her nipple. "There, there, this is all fitting for a big baby like you. You do need this, don't you, Jacob? You need someone to feed you and monitor your diapers and behavior." As the woman continued her mocking and Jacob continued sucking, milk began to flow. Jacob, thinking this was an exercise in make-believe, was entirely unprepared for this reality. He attempted to pull away, his movements sudden and awkward, but the woman held him firmly in place. "Shh, it's okay, Jacob. Just relax," she soothed, cradling him tighter so she was now patting him on his bottom as she pressed her breast into him, not letting him pull back. As milk filled his mouth brought, a surge of panic overwhelmed him. In a desperate bid for release, Jacob clamped his teeth down on her nipple, just enough he hoped to make her release him. And it worked. She shrieked out in pain, reflexively pushing him from her lap, sending him tumbling to the floor. Jacob looked up at her from the ground; a solitary drop of milk lingered at the corner of his mouth. His eyes darted to the door, the urge to flee from the room, from the repercussions of his actions, pressing heavily upon him. The greater risk was now not getting away, not making his escape. Yet, as he scrambled to his feet, his movements were hampered by the sudden, vice-like grip that encased his wrist. In an instant, Mrs. Green regained her composure and control over the situation. Her grip tightened, pulling Jacob's arm behind his back swiftly, leaving no room for resistance. She drew him back towards the couch with ease until Jacob was once again over her lap. Only now, he was not looking into breasts. He was staring at the floor as she pinned him to her thighs with his diapered bottom exposed to the inevitable blows to come. Jacob cringed in anticipation for the first strike. If you are enjoying this story, know that I have promised that all of this story will make it onto this site and I intend to do that but it will always be behind when I post on patreon (there are 11 parts on patreon ... I imagine this story will have 13 parts, so it is almost complete). My patreon has other stories and now captions which are all deviations on a similar theme of diapered men being debased, degraded, and humiliated. patreon.com/user?u=7664738

To support the site, I will be putting all my previous stories there, as well as giving it a head start on any future stories (before posting them here). If I can get out of the writing slump I'm currently in, that is.

Good start! 🙂

HAPPY BLOODY BIRTHDAY!!!! You've done us all proud by over-indulging and leaking as a consequence. That's what being in the "Terrible Twos" looks like and I salute you! 🤣

Interesting. It lines up with my own experiences. I post twice a week and I do think that is the most important part. If people can see you are consistent and posting often they'll see you as more likely to give them bang for their buck. It also helps to give the impression that this is a "job" You are posting so much that clearly you are working hard at it and "deserve" support. Posting that often also means you are often seen at the top of the websites you post to givnig you more eyes on your product, more chance for engagement, etc. I guess I'm in the minority in terms of posting to different platforms, though only just. I post to five public platforms (one of which doesn't let me link my subscription info) but consistently earn well over $1000 a month, to be honest, I can't even think of another place to start posting to. I haven't reached the heights my Patreon did before it was deleted but before all that went down I was pushing towards $1900. It's a full time job for me... but I'm also aware that if my wife wasn't working or I was on my own it wouldn't be nearly enough to live on. It's interesting what you said about commissions. I have been told I don't charge enough before (heck, I have a person currently commissioning me that demanded I charge them more!) but I'm really not sure about it. On the one hand I'm happy to charge less because it provides content for my subscription platforms but on the other it does mean I'm cheap. I've struggled a lot with the idea of raising prices beyond my standard $10 per 1000 words. The exclusive content part is up and down. The benefit is that it can increase subscriber numbers, the negative is that you're posting a lot of work all at once and still need to keep up with your regular schedule. I have posted exclusive stories before that have done little or nothing to boost numbers, however, I hve also posted exclusive stories that have DEFINITELY caused an increase in subscribers which is then sustained. I do believe there is a correlation but it doesn't always work, you essentially have to post the right thing at the right time. I also believe hving a library of exclusive stories can attract people more. I'm able to advertise a large library of exclusive stories and I do think it attracts people at a higher tier because sometimes I won't post a exclusive story for a couple of months but I'll still have people csubbing at that higher tier to read them. Thank you for the survey. It was very interesting

Chapter 13: Night of rebellion I glanced at the glowing digits of my watch, the soft luminescence barely cutting through the darkness. 1 a.m. I slid my hand beneath the mattress, fingers wrapping around the cool metal of my creation – the sonic screwdriver. Carefully, I eased out from under the covers, avoiding any noise that might betray my movement. The screwdriver felt like an extension of my own will, a key to freedom that I had forged in secret. I pointed it at the lock on my crib and activated it. The mechanism clicked softly, and with a gentle push, the railing lowered. Next was Adrian's crib. I crept over, holding my breath as I worked on his lock. Another quiet click and his barrier gave way too. Adrian's eyes flickered open; a shared glance was all we needed to communicate years of pent-up frustration and the burning desire for autonomy. Silently, we slipped out of our cribs and onto the cool floor. Mateo had done his part well; the liquid he provided ate through the adhesive on our diapers without leaving a trace. We peeled them off with a sense of urgency mixed with disgust for having to wear them in the first place. Dressed swiftly in black clothes that seemed to swallow what little light there was, we were shadows within a shadow. Our movements were practiced and precise; this wasn't just about sneaking out—it was a statement, a declaration that we weren't going to be shackled by these humiliating constraints any longer. "We need to be quick and silent," I whispered to Adrian as we finished dressing. "Every second counts." He nodded, his eyes hard with determination. "Let's do this," he murmured back. The door opened silently under the touch of my sonic driver, and we stepped out into the corridor beyond. * * * In the stillness of night, Dean Norris's sleep was a distant memory as her communicator buzzed urgently on the nightstand. She squinted against the soft glow of the screen, Argos's voice, clear and devoid of sleep, infiltrated the silence. "Dean Norris, surveillance indicates movement. The Littles are on the move, and there are unidentified Bigs in proximity. Positions remain undetermined." Frowning, Dean swung her legs off the bed, her mind already racing. She padded across the cool floor to her home office, where screens awaited her command. "I need eyes on this, Argos. Redirect the feed to me and LPS immediately." With a few swift keystrokes, the wall of monitors blinked to life. Images streamed in real-time, night vision casting an eerie glow over shadowy figures weaving through the university grounds. Dean leaned closer, studying each frame with precision. Argos's capabilities were unmatched, yet these intruders moved like phantoms – seen but untraceable. She grabbed her communicator again. "Alert LPS. Have them sweep the area. Keep me updated on any changes." "Affirmative," came Argos's response. The room filled with the hum of technology as Dean Norris watched and waited, ready to act against whatever threatened her charges under Emerson's moonlit sky. * * * The night draped over Emerson University like a velvet cloak, stars winking down at us as we stood huddled near the library's service entrance. My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of nerves and adrenaline. Beside me, Adrian shifted on his feet, his eyes sharp and alert. We both wore our dark goggles, giving us the surreal vision of night as clear as day. Mateo had been talking in hushed tones with a couple of others I hadn't met before. One was tall and lean, with a runner's build, while the other had the broad shoulders of a swimmer. They both gave off an air of quiet confidence. "Guys, this is Jules and Leo," Mateo said, gesturing to each in turn. "They're in on the plan." Jules gave a curt nod, his gaze flicking to the drone in my hands. "You're the tech whiz with the toys?" "That's me," I answered with a small grin, feeling a sliver of pride cut through the tension. I held up the drone—a compact piece of machinery that looked more like a shadow in my hands. "This little buddy is going to give us eyes in the sky." Leo crossed his arms, his eyes meeting mine. "And you're sure it won't be detected?" I nodded firmly. "It's fitted with stealth tech. Silent and invisible to most sensors." With practiced ease, I activated the drone and it buzzed to life with barely a whisper, its dark form melting into the night sky above us. Adrian stepped forward then, taking charge in a way that hinted at some past military training he never talked about. He looked every bit the part of an operative from one of those spy films we used to watch back home. "Alright," he said quietly, "Bix's drone will keep an eye out for any unexpected company. Let's not waste time." With those words hanging in the air like mist, Adrian slipped on his goggles and approached the door. He examined it for a moment before giving us a hand signal—the all-clear. I watched him disappear inside first, his movements fluid and precise. After a beat, Jules followed him silently into the shadows of the doorway. Leo glanced at me and gave an encouraging nod before he too stepped through. My turn. Heart racing, I glanced up at my drone one last time through my goggles—its silent flight reassuring me—and followed them into the library's underbelly. Once inside, I felt like we'd entered another world—a place where we weren't just Littles subject to diapers and demeaning rules but rebels on a mission that could change everything. "We stick together," I whispered to myself as much as to them, reaffirming our pact against whatever lay ahead. * * * Mateo's voice echoed softly in the darkness, "Two floors down, guys." I nodded, gripping the controls of the drone. We moved cautiously, shadows merging with the darkness around us. The library loomed ominously, a giant monolith of knowledge that held secrets we were about to uncover. We had a simple plan. Use the drone to navigate the labyrinth of shelves and trigger any potential alarms before we got there. Adrian was in charge of the map, a digital blueprint of the library layout that glowed on his tablet. He directed us with whispered instructions while I controlled the drone, its small propellers humming quietly as it flew ahead. My heart pounded as we descended the grand staircase, each step creaking under our weight. The silence was oppressive, wrapping around us like a blanket. We relied on the dim light from Adrian's tablet and the faint glow from my drone controller to guide our path. "Left here," Adrian whispered, pointing towards a dark corridor. The drone zoomed ahead, its infrared sensors scanning for any hidden alarms. A red light blinked on my controller. I froze. "Wait," I muttered, studying the display. It was an alarm sensor, invisible to the naked eye but glaringly obvious to my drone. "False alarm," I breathed out after a moment of tense silence. The red light on my controller had turned green again. It was just a stray signal from an old security system long out of use. We continued our descent, our movements slow and deliberate. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet library - our hushed whispers, the rustle of our clothes against each other, even our breaths seemed too loud. Suddenly, Adrian hissed a warning. "Stop!" I froze mid-step as he pointed at something ahead - another alarm sensor blinking ominously on his tablet's screen. This time it wasn't a false alarm. We had triggered something. The drone buzzed as I maneuvered it, sending it towards the blinking light on Adrian's tablet. The drone's camera feed showed us a laser grid, crisscrossing the hallway ahead. With a sigh of relief, I directed the drone through the grid, watching as it successfully navigated through without setting off any alarms. We had avoided a potential disaster. "Alright," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We're clear." Adrian nodded, and we continued our descent into the library's depths. The promise of hidden knowledge drove us forward, adrenaline pumping in our veins as we navigated through the darkened corridors of the library. Our first heist was going according to plan, despite the close calls and false alarms. Our footfalls were muffled by the ancient carpeting as we moved deeper into the library. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of old books and a sense of untold stories. A low hum of electricity filled the air as we neared our destination: the restricted section. "Here it is," Adrian whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the silence. The door to the restricted section loomed in front of us, imposing and heavy. It was made of solid metal, with a sophisticated electronic lock that seemed out of place amidst the library's ancient grandeur. Taking a deep breath, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my sonic screwdriver. It was an ingenious device, a combination of technology and ingenuity. I had spent countless hours perfecting it, tinkering with different settings and functions until I was satisfied with its performance. I aimed the sonic screwdriver at the door's lock, holding my breath as I activated it. A high-pitched whirring filled the air as I manipulated the device, watching for any signs of success. To my disappointment, the door remained stubbornly closed. I frowned, adjusting the settings on my screwdriver and trying again. The whirring grew louder, but still, nothing happened. I could feel Adrian's gaze on me, his worry palpable in the silent room. "Bix..." he began, but I shook my head. "Give me a minute," I muttered, refusing to admit defeat. The door was just another challenge to overcome - a test of my abilities and determination. But no matter how much I tweaked or adjusted my sonic screwdriver, the door refused to budge. Frustration bubbled within me as I tried again and again to no avail. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my hand in defeat. The sonic screwdriver felt heavy in my hand - a reminder of my failure. "It's not working," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed was deafening, our hopes dashed by a single, unyielding door. "Over there," Mateo's voice was low but urgent, his finger pointing to a curtain at the far end of the room. I squinted, making out the outline of a hidden service lift behind the heavy fabric. A wave of relief washed over me. It wasn't over yet. We hurried over, our steps echoing softly in the cavernous room. The lift was small and looked like it was designed for moving heavy boxes or Littles, not a group of determined young men. I pushed the button and we stepped inside, our bodies pressing close in the confined space. The lift jerked to life, sending us descending into the depths of the building. We watched as each floor passed by, an endless stretch of darkness that seemed to swallow us whole. I could feel Adrian's arm brushing against mine, his grip tight on the railing as we plummeted further down. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we continued our descent. The small light inside the lift flickered ominously, casting long shadows that danced on our faces. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the lift and our own shallow breaths. Suddenly, with a jolt that nearly knocked us off our feet, the lift came to an abrupt stop. We stumbled, clutching onto each other for support as we tried to regain our balance. The doors creaked open to reveal a vast room unlike anything we had expected. It wasn't a library or even an archive - it looked more like an abandoned military complex. Dust swirled in the air, catching in the weak beams of light filtering in from cracked windows high above us. Old equipment lay strewn about haphazardly; metal desks covered in layers of dust and decayed paperwork; rusted lockers lined against one wall; a giant map of Amazonia, faded and peeling, hung on the opposite wall. A chill ran down my spine as I stepped out of the lift, the others following closely behind. The room felt eerie and forgotten, a stark contrast to the polished grandeur of the library above us. I glanced back at Adrian and Mateo, their faces mirroring my own confusion. This was not what we had planned for. "Merde, what's going on?" I cursed under my breath, confusion and frustration mingling in a sour cocktail in my mind. The whole situation seemed off, the air heavy with a foreboding sense of something lurking just beyond our understanding. Without warning, the lights snapped on, blinding in their intensity after the thick darkness we'd been steeped in. My hand shot up to shield my eyes, and as they adjusted, the sight before me sent a jolt of ice through my veins. There stood Evelyn, flanked by five Bigs decked out in intimidating gear, their arms crossed and faces set in hard lines. Each one was equipped with weapons that gleamed ominously under the harsh fluorescent lights. And there, among them, stood Aiden – his charming facade replaced by a steely gaze that cut right through me. Evelyn's lips twisted into that all-too-familiar condescending smile as she clucked her tongue. "Swearing is not becoming of little ones," she chided, her voice carrying that same patronizing lilt I'd come to despise. I clenched my jaw tight enough to ache, anger bubbling up like a volcano on the brink of eruption. Yet, despite the heat of my emotions, a cold shiver ran down my spine. This was bad – worse than any of us could have anticipated. "Now," Evelyn continued, her eyes sweeping over us like we were errant children caught with our hands in the cookie jar. "You can come to us willingly or face consequences far worse than a few swats on your behind." The threat hung heavy in the air between us. My heart pounded against my ribcage with the force of a drum in the silence that followed her ultimatum. The instinct to rebel surged within me, but reason clawed its way through the fog of defiance. We were outmatched and outgunned – quite literally. I exchanged a quick glance with Adrian and Mateo; their faces were pale but resolute. None of us wanted to yield to Evelyn's twisted games or Aiden's duplicity. But as much as it pained me to even consider it, fighting back seemed like signing our own death warrants. A muscle ticked in Adrian's jaw as he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Mateo's hand twitched by his side, but he too seemed resigned to our fate. With every fiber of my being screaming in protest, I stepped forward. "We'll come willingly," I said through gritted teeth. It felt like swallowing shards of glass – bitter and sharp – but it was our only choice. Evelyn's smile widened into a triumphant grin as we moved toward them, her cohorts parting to make way for our surrender. Each step felt heavier than the last; I was acutely aware of the rustle of our clothing and the muffled thuds of our footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. As we approached them, my mind raced with thoughts of Eric and all I had hoped to achieve here in Amazonia – now slipping through my fingers like sand. But deep down, beneath layers of fear and resignation, a small ember of defiance still glowed hot and unyielding. Whatever Evelyn had planned for us next, I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

Chapter 7 Madelyn gasped as she felt her short hair tickling her neck as it began to lengthen, growing down past her shoulders, not stopping until it was halfway down her back. It lightened in colour as it grew, turning from its original black to a trashy shade of bleached platinum blonde. But Madelyn didn’t have time to mourn her sensible, gender-neutral hairstyle. Her childish clothes had suddenly vanished, leaving her totally naked, and she could feel a strange tingling in her breasts. She looked down at them and squealed in horror. They were expanding, her nearly flat chest ballooning outwards. She clutched at her boobs desperately, trying to stop them getting any bigger, but it was hopeless. They went from A-cup to B-cup, then C-cup, then D-cup, then double-Ds, growing larger and larger until the proud, dignified, man-hating feminist had an enormous pair of pornstar tits jutting out from her chest. Struggling to see past her new breasts, Madelyn realised that all the hair on her body had vanished below the neck. The thatch of pubic hair she kept above her pussy, the symbol of her womanhood, had disappeared, leaving her bare as a little girl – like those traitorous patriarchal stooges who shaved away their maturity just to cater to men’s perverted tastes. She stared down at her new body in disgust. She looked like a total bimbo! And unless she won the competition, this was what she’d be stuck looking like forever. She thought about having to explain her ridiculous new stripper body to her fellow academics, and her thumb slipped anxiously back between her lips, which felt much fuller than before. Looking up, Madelyn saw her reflection in the large mirror that hung across one of the walls, and tears of anger and shame welled up in her eyes. Reflected back at her was a big-titted slut with a thumbsucking habit. She looked like everything she hated. An immature skank, at once childish and lewd. A total disgrace to women everywhere. Abby, Becky, and Katherine looked at Madelyn with queasy expressions on their faces. On one level they thought she’d gotten off lightly – at least there was nothing overtly babyish about her new appearance – but on the other hand they knew her whorish look had been chosen by the Magician precisely because it was one that she would detest, and that thought gave them no comfort at all. “Do you like your new look, Maddy?” the Magician asked. Madelyn had never hated his smirk more than she did at that moment. “I wook wike a bimbo!” she shrieked. She’d yanked her thumb out of her mouth to speak, but her new plumped-up lips were enough on their own to make a mockery of her once-confident, commanding voice. She felt sick. Her mouth definitely wasn’t meant for talking anymore. DSLs, Madelyn thought in revulsion. She had dick-sucking lips. But if her lips had been enlarged, it was nothing compared to what the Magician had done to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, feeling their weight in disbelief. Jugs. The word came into her head unbidden. She had jugs. Knockers. Melons. “I forgot, you don’t approve of large breasts, do you Maddy?” the Magician mocked. He conjured an academic-looking paper from nowhere and opened it. Madelyn recognised it as one of the feminist journals she occasionally wrote for. “Where was it… Ah, here we are. ‘Women who fill their bodies with silicone and inflate their breasts for the sole purpose of making themselves more appealing to the male gaze are the very worst among women. They reduce themselves to objects, livestock with ridiculous, oversized udders, making a mockery not just of themselves, but of every other woman whose reputation is damaged as a result.’” The Magician looked up from the article, grinning. “How does it feel, Maddy?” he asked. “To have a pair of udders of your own?” Madelyn glared at him furiously, but with her bimbo-blonde hair framing her face and her pouty lips wrapped around her thumb, her scowl just looked adorable – and the tears glittering in her eyes didn’t help. They threatened to spill down her cheeks, but Madelyn was desperate not to cry. She was determined not to degrade herself even further by bawling like a baby, no matter what the Magician did to her. “Poor little thing,” the Magician cooed. “What’s the matter, honey? There’s no need to look so upset. I’m sure you’re worried that none of your ugly old pantsuits and mannish clothes will fit over your new figure, isn’t that right? Well don’t worry. I’ve taken the liberty of supplying you with a whole new wardrobe of appropriate outfits! Why don’t we get you dressed, cutiepie? You’re a gorgeous girl, Maddy, but you can’t go running around in your birthday suit all day. We’ll soon have you looking pretty as a princess!” He snapped his fingers, and Madelyn felt clothes reappear on her body at once. She looked at herself in the mirror again and let out another squeal of dismay. Framing her face and her newly bleached blonde head was a pale pink baby bonnet, trimmed in white lace at the edges, much like the one that Katherine had chosen to wear for the challenge. She was also wearing a pastel pink frock, so puffy and frilly that it might have made her look like a two-year-old on the way to visit her grandma if it wasn’t for the fact that the outline of her enormous tits were clearly visible beneath it, her nipples poking out obscenely. The hem of her childish dress ended halfway down her perky, plumped-up rear, leaving the bulky adult nappy she was now wearing almost completely exposed. It bulged around her bottom and between her thighs, pushing her slender legs apart and contrasting ridiculously with her new ultrafeminine body. She also wore a pair of thigh-high white socks with pink bows on the top, and on her feet were two black, silver-buckled Mary-Janes. With her thumb planted in her mouth to complete the image, Madelyn looked utterly ridiculous. Staring back at her in the mirror, wide-eyed and horrified, was a voluptuous woman’s body crammed into the most babyish clothes she could possibly imagine. Abby had to stifle a laugh, and Katherine allowed herself a smirk – she’d disliked Madelyn’s superior attitude, and obvious disdain for her profession as a model, right from the start, and as far as she was concerned, the stupid woman was getting exactly what was coming to her. Upon seeing her new outfit, Madelyn instinctively took a step backwards, and as she did so her nipples brushed against the material of her frock dress. Immediately, a rush of pleasure pulsed through her tits, sending a delightful tingle straight down her spine and into her pussy. She had to suck hard on her thumb to supress a moan, and her pussy started getting wet inside her nappy. After the feeling passed, she looked up at the Magician in shock. “Have you noticed how sensitive your new boobies are, baby?” he asked, chuckling. “You were so austere and sexless before, but I think keeping you constantly horny will improve your attitude towards men, don’t you think?” Madelyn could only whine her displeasure, struggling to keep her mind clear as every slight movement she made caused her boobs to rub against the fabric of her clothes and send another bolt of ecstasy coursing through her body. She shook her head and tried to focus. She had other things to worry about. She clutched at the bulky white diaper between her legs with a fearful expression on her face. Had she been made incontinent too?! “Don’t worry, little Maddy, you’ve still got your potty training,” the Magician soothed her, correctly interpreting her look of terror. “But I thought putting you in nappies would help prevent that naughty little no-no spot of yours leaving icky wet spots everywhere. I know how much all this is turning you on.” Madelyn’s self-control failed. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, and she started to sniffle. She looked over at Abby, Becky, and Katherine, and seeing the looks of mingled pity and contempt on their faces, she burst into tears. She was supposed to be the one who was always in control! The tough, self-possessed woman who’d lead them out of this mess! And now she was just some stupid bimbo baby! She bawled like a little girl, destroying whatever was left of her reputation among the others. “Awww,” the Magician cooed condescendingly. “There, there, baby.” He pulled Madelyn’s bombshell body in for a cuddle, one hand rubbing her back, the other patting her padded bottom. “It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.” Madelyn sobbed into his chest. She wanted to shove him away, to spit in the face of this evil, tyrannical patriarch… but she was too overwhelmed by her emotions, and too scared of what else he might do to her. “Abby, Katherine, the two of you can go back to your rooms and change if you like,” the Magician said. “We’ll be meeting back in the dining room for lunch and the second vote. Becky, you’d better stay here so I can change that stinky little bottom of yours. And I think baby Maddy could do with a bit more cuddling before I send her off too.” Madelyn continued to cry. Becky blushed, but she was pleased she’d finally be getting out of the disgusting diaper that was now hanging off her hips. Abby and Katherine hurried out of the hall and back towards their rooms – they didn’t talk all the way, still angry at each other from their last encounter alone. Katherine wrinkled her nose pointedly at the soaking wet skirt and underwear Abby was wearing, and Abby shot her a nasty look before entering her room. Once she was inside, Abby immediately stripped off her soggy skirt and peeled her pissy underwear down her legs. She was relieved that she hadn’t lost and ended up like Madelyn, stuck looking like some ridiculous adult baby pornstar, but still… she’d come second to last again. How much longer could she keep this up? It would only take one mistake for her life to be permanently altered. She changed back into adult clothes – it seemed as though the Magician had transported her entire wardrobe from home to this room – and lay down on the bed, trying to get the imagine of the once-confident Madelyn sobbing like a babified barbie-doll out of her mind. Sometime later, Abby left her room and headed for the dining room for lunch. The other three girls were already there – Katherine looking snooty, Becky looking embarrassed but pleased to be out of her filthy nappy at last (though the outline of her fresh one was visible under her jeans), and Madelyn sucking her thumb, teary-eyed and big-titted, looking like a mallrat bimbo who’d raided a store full of toddler clothes. The Magician was sat at the head of the table again, tucking into a steak. Abby took a seat and helped herself to food. None of them talked, just like every other meal they’d had so far. On the one hand, they were all in this together, innocents stolen away by the Magician for his sick game, but on the other hand they all knew that only one of them could win his insane competition and avoid a terrible fate. It was hard to feel a sense of camaraderie with people they’d have to vote out, writing down their names and condemning them to a lifetime of diapers or spankings or whatever other twisted fantasies the Magician had in mind for them. Once they were all finished with their food, the Magician got to his feet, smiling down at all of them with that horrible sparkling light in his dark eyes. “Well girls,” he said, “you know the drill.” He waved his hand and their plates vanished, to be replaced by the ballot box. “I’ll give you a few moments to talk among yourselves.” He vanished. Abby knew she had to move quickly. Katherine would almost certainly vote for her this round, so she had to make sure neither of the others would too. She hurried over to Becky and whispered, “How about we both vote for Katherine? She’s such a stuck-up bitch! You’ve seen the way she looks at us, haven’t you? Like we’re something disgusting.” Becky looked pathetically hopeful. “You don’t think I’m disgusting?” she asked meekly. Abby had to stop herself laughing. Of course she thought Becky was disgusting! Who wouldn’t? She was a grown woman who still pooped her pants for God’s sake! Abby had had to put up with her stinking up every room she was in for just one day and she already wanted her kicked out of the competition – but saving her own neck took precedence at the moment, and years of cheating on her boyfriends had made her an excellent liar. “Of course not!” she said earnestly. “This isn’t your fault, Becky. It’s the Magician and his sick games. You can’t help what he’s turned you into. But Katherine doesn’t understand that. Personally, I think she deserves whatever the Magician decides to do to her.” “What are you two talking about?” Katherine interrupted angrily, toddling over to them. Madelyn followed, not wanting to be left out, but just the walk around the dining table was enough to leave her a wet, squirming mess. Her boobs jiggled near-constantly, and the tingling pleasure that began in her oversensitive nipples rushed straight to her twat. She gasped and moaned behind her thumb, blushing furiously. “None of your business,” Abby told her. She turned to Madelyn. “I think we should vote for Katherine. We need to start thinking about how to get out of this mess, and we need someone like you to help with that, Miss Smith. But we don’t need her.” Madelyn barely heard her. She was sucking her thumb enthusiastically and fighting the urge to shove one of her hands down the front of her nappy and start playing with herself. But she understood enough of what Abby had said to get the message. She looked at Katherine appraisingly. Katherine glared back. “You’ve got to be joking. Abby is clearly the one we need to vote out! She’s a nasty, manipulative little brat. Only someone totally stupid would fall for her tricks.” Abby opened her mouth furiously, but before any of them could say any more, the Magician reappeared in their midst, making them jump. “It’s time, girls,” he grinned. “I hope you’re ready.” He handed a piece of paper and a crayon to each other them, and they moved away from each other to lean over the table and write down a name. The Magician collected them up when they were done, and looked down at them. He laughed. “Three to one!” he said happily. “Oh dear! Someone’s not very popular, I see.” Katherine’s superior look faltered slightly. She hadn’t lost. The other two must have voted for Abby as well. She was going to win the competition and wish herself back to normal, in addition to whatever else she wanted. She wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life waddling about like a stupid toddler. She couldn’t. Then the Magician’s gaze fell upon her. “It looks like it’s bye-bye for little Katie,” he cooed mockingly. Abby grinned almost as broadly as the Magician. “No,” said Katherine, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. “NO!” She backed away as the Magician advanced on her, but she lost her balance and fell hard on her bottom. The Magician stood over her with an evil look in his eyes. “I know the perfect penalty for you, young lady,” he said. “All that status as a model has gone straight to your head, you see. I think your fellow contestants got a sense of why you have a reputation as the most bitchy and entitled girl in the whole modelling industry, and they only got to know you for a day! But fortunately for everyone else, those days are over. The catwalk isn’t the right place for a silly little girl, Katie.” The Magician grinned sadistically. “Especially not one who can’t even dress herself!” Katherine looked petrified. With a wave of the Magician’s hand, the elegant dress that she’d changed into after that day’s challenge vanished, to be replaced by a silly, frilly baby frock, just like the one Madelyn’s stripper body was crammed into, only pure white instead of pink. Her silk stockings and expensive heels disappeared too, replaced by ruffled socks and trainers with Velcro straps. A lacy bonnet soon framed her face, the same one she’d worn earlier that day, and an enormous baby bib came into being to tie itself around her neck. Emblazoned on the front was a cartoonish depiction of Katherine’s own face, grinning stupidly and covered in baby food, above a caption that read “Messy Little Girl”. A pacifier on the end of a cord appeared out of nowhere, clipping itself to the front of her frock in case any adults needed to soothe the fussy, overgrown baby it belonged to. Finally, her underwear began to thicken, her lacey lingerie expanding between her legs and turning white. Katherine stared down at her new clothes, appalled. She looked absolutely ludicrous! Even worse than when she’d dressed up for the second challenge! She lifted up the hem of her toddler dress and screamed when she saw the bulky disposable diaper taped around her waist. She immediately started clawing at it, desperate to rip it off and fling it away, but the moment her fingers made contact with her nappy, they become weak and uncoordinated, and all she could do was pat feebly at the puffy white padding. “I can’t get it off!” Katherine shrieked, panicking and starting to hyperventilate. “Of course you can’t, sweetie,” said the Magician. “Weren’t you listening to what I said? You can’t dress yourself anymore. I’ve taken that privilege away from you permanently. Other people will decide what you wear from now on. Maybe that will teach you a little bit of humility.” Katherine started screaming madly. “Time for you to head home, little one!” the Magician said happily, his voice raised over the din. “I’ll leave you to your family to look after. I hear you have a sister who you’ve been very rude to for years. I’m sure she’ll take good care of you! Bye-bye, baby!” And with a snap of his fingers, the fashion model turned screeching baby-woman disappeared off to her new life, leaving the other three ladies staring at the place where she’d vanished, her screams still echoing in their ears.

It was actually @superabsorbantpolymer who made that quote but it might as well have been me since as a child, I did exactly the same thing. Another data point in favour of your hypothesis. As a kid, I'd rescued a couple of ancient towels from the route to the rag bag, appropriated some of the abundant supplies of nappy pins that were scattered around the house (all my siblings were younger and in contrast to myself, were bedwetters until at least 6 or 7 years of age) and for plastic pants, there were shopping bags. Back in the late 1970s and into the early 1980s, the rise of supermarkets (and the associated downfall of the corner grocery store) had seen paper bags replaced with good old fossil-fuel-derived, single-use plastic bags. We weren't talking the ultra-thin Chinese plastic bags that would split if you looked at them too long either. These were old school, thick, crinkly white plastic and when you were done with them, you could stuff them down a sea turtle's neck or choke a seagull. It seemed discarded plastic bags always went to the beach. Such were the environmental mores of the day. By making holes in the two bottom corners of the bag that were smaller than the diameter of one's thighs, the bag could be hauled up over one's legs like plastic pants. Each of these corner holes could have their edges folded over themselves creating quite a strong, elastic-like seal albeit at the small price of tourniquet-type blood starvation to one's lower limbs. The body of the bag would form the plastic pant and the open top would serve as the waist opening which could be folded back down into the towel-nappy for a more dubious, but still serviceable seal. Thusly attired, one could pee freely whilst maintaining dry outerwear and looking like awful lot like a toddler. Presumably great minds think alike 🤣

Put on a diaper and shit in it!

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

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 Thirty: Girl Scouts The next morning, a sleepy Katie was woken up by Ally, “Rise and shine, little girl. It is time to get you dressed for school.” After a quick diaper change, a white tee with orange long sleeves featuring a unicorn and a few pumpkins on the front was dropped over her head. She was offered a pair of tan corduroys to put on herself and some ruffled socks. After she was dressed, Allison sat next to her and put her hair into curly pigtails. Ally continued with tying two orange bows into the regressed girl's hair so that her ears were being tickled again. Both of them soon headed downstairs, where they found Daddie gathering up Ally’s bags and a few other items in the mud room. Katie didn’t recognize any of her items in the pile, except it appeared her laundry basket was being used as a convenient place to put multiple bags when she tried looking in the room before her roommate ushered her to the high chair. After strapping Katie in the chair and placing a bib on the regressed girl, Allison set a bowl of cereal on the tray before getting her own bowl of cereal. After both bowls were done and the little girl had drunk her sippy cup, Allison led her charge to the car after cleaning the messy face. Allison was busy strapping her regressed roommate into her car seat just as Daddie was putting the last bags into the back of the car. Heading down the road, he asked her where he was dropping her off. Allison said, “My first class on Mondays is actually the same class as Katie.” “Okay, you will find your stuff in your dorm room, Allison,” Daddie said. Ally tried to say thank you, but Katie asked how he was going to do that. All the regressed girl got in response was Ally reaching back and putting a pacifier in the little girl’s mouth. She then said, “Thank You, Adam. Please keep in mind what I told you yesterday on the way home from church.” “I haven’t forgotten about it. I am not sure if I will be able to deal with it this week. It may require me to order some stuff online, Allison,” Daddy said. When they got to the building that both of their classes were in, Ally got out of the car and opened Katie’s door. She then took the pacifier out of the regressed girl’s mouth and put it in her own pocket. She finally released the trapped girl before both of them went to the back, where Daddie was waiting with two backpacks. He handed Ally her backpack before handing his daughter a pink Disney Princess backpack, not her purple backpack. “Sweetie, I will pick you up directly from your eleven o’clock class at twelve-thirty to forty-five. You will find your college ID in the front pocket of your new backpack,” Daddie instructed his daughter. “Where are my keys and my phone, Daddie?” Katie asked. He answered, “You don’t need either one today. You are just going to be away from me for just under four hours, Sweetheart.” Shrugging, Katie just hugged him before grabbing the hand that Ally was holding out for her. With that, both of the girls went in for Literature class. “Allison, is it bring your little sister to college day?” A fellow college student asked in the hall. “In the spirit of the season, I have dressed my roommate quite young since she lost a bet, but if you excuse me, if we dilly dally, we will be late,” Ally told the student. Seated in the classroom, Katie and Ally talked to their fellow students quietly while they waited for the professor to arrive. Soon, she entered, and, while facing the whiteboard, started with, “OK, class, we will continue our discussion about Mark Twain we started…” before trailing off and staring at Katie, as she turned around, “... Kathleen, is that you?” Blushing, Katie meekly said, “... last I checked.” Shrugging, the professor just continued with teaching the class. ~o~O~o~ At twelve forty, Daddie picked up Katie from where she was waiting for him. She soon found herself back in the car seat and started to read the book she had found in the car activity bag while Daddie was placing her backpack in the now empty back. Once they were back in Riverville, after a quick stop at Wendy’s for food, they both went up to her bedroom to change her bottom. “Sweetheart, why don’t you do your homework in the turret before you go to Stacy’s house for Girl Scouts,” he said as he handed her the princess backpack. “Girl Scouts?” she asked as she set up on the window seat. “Yes, Stacy and Aunt Sara invited you,” he mentioned. ~o~O~o~ Katie packed her homework back up after she was done and then took her backpack and the sippy cup downstairs. She didn’t find Daddie in the main parts of the house, so she screamed, “Daddie, where are you?” “Katie Ann Telgenhof, inside voice, I was in my home office. You can put your nose in the corner for screaming,” Daddie said, coming into the parlour where she was standing. She decided not to argue and just put her nose in the corner as requested. While she was standing in the corner, she heard what sounded like a bus stop nearby. Soon after the bus left, she was released from the corner with, “Katie Ann, you may come out of the corner, go to the mud room, and put your shoes on, and then you can go next door. Let me know before you walk across the lawn so I can watch you,” Daddie told her. Walking to the office, she found Daddie on the phone discussing business. She patiently waited for him to be done. When he was, she told him, “Daddie, I am ready to go next door.” She was escorted to the front door, where he watched her cross the two lawns. Ringing the doorbell, she was greeted by Auntie opening the door. “Katie, come on in. Stacy is doing homework in the kitchen,” Auntie Sara said as she let her adopted niece in. She continued, “Adam always dresses you in the cutest outfits, Sweetie.” “Thank you, Auntie, but Ally dressed me today,” Katie corrected her Auntie as she walked towards her friend. She looked at the homework that Stacy was doing. It appeared the homework was two-digit addition math. “Eighteen plus fourteen is thirty-two, Bestie,” she told Stacy. Stacy jumped and said, “Katie Telgenhof, I didn’t see you come in. You scared me,” as she gave her best friend a hug. “Kathleen Annabelle Telgenhof, let Stacy do her own homework,” Auntie said as she gave the regressed girl a quick swat on her padded bottom. The swat caused Katie to jump and rub her bottom. It really just hurt her pride. There was no real pain. “Katie, while Stacy is doing her homework, you can do your own homework,” Auntie Sara continued. “My homework? I did my college homework already, Auntie Sara.” “Not that homework, Katie. It's your second-grade homework,” Auntie pointed out, and she handed the little girl a stack of books. Looking at the books, Katie saw that they were second-grade workbooks, specifically math, reading comprehension, geography, science, and one simply called scholar. Flipping to the front of one of the books, she saw that the owner had been pre-filled out with ‘Katie Telgenhof.’ Shrugging, she just sat down quietly next to her best friend at the breakfast bar. “I want you to do ten pages, at least one page in each book, and I will be grading them,” she was told as she was handed a pencil. As Katie was working on the first page of the math book, she felt Auntie playing around with her hair. “Auntie, what are you doing?” “Changing the color of your bow so it will match your new Girl Scout outfit when you eventually put it on,” was the answer received. After she was done, she told both girls, “I am going to grade my own students’ homework. Let me know if you need help or when both of you are done,” and walked out of the room. ~o~O~o~ “Mommie we are done,” Stacy pointed out to where her mother was working. She handed her homework to her mother and waited while it was checked over. “Very good, Sweetheart,” Auntie told her own daughter before walking over to where Katie was waiting with her books. After receiving the books from her nieces, she also checked them over. Auntie told her niece, “Very good, Sweetie. OK, both of you, head up to Stacy’s room and change. Stacy, your clean uniform is on the head of the bed. Katie, your new uniform is at the foot. I will be up soon to change your bottom.” When Katie got to her friend's bedroom, she saw two brownie uniforms sitting on the bed. Going to the one that Auntie said was hers, she started to change her blouse and put the skirt on. After that was done, she took a look at the vest before putting it on. It had the normal starter items on it, with no badges earned. Lastly, she turned to face Stacy, who was dressed similarly to her, except for her friend, who had a few badges. When Auntie walked in the room, Stacy was sent downstairs while Katie’s bottom was dealt with. Katie noticed that the diaper bag was different than the one Daddie used, and having Allison’s weekend discussion fresh on her mind, asked, “Auntie? Did Daddie provide that diaper bag?” “He offered to, but I bought everything myself. You are over here enough for me to need my own.” “Why do you do it? I am technically not incontinent. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind diapers, but everyone has been jumping at the chance to diaper me.” “I do it because that is who you are, and I love you for who you are. On the other hand, I seem to remember that you said your pull-ups are not staying dry at college,” Auntie said, helping her niece up. Katie turned bright red and, not knowing what to say, just walked out of the room with Auntie to wait downstairs with Stacy for the other girls. The two girls were not alone for long. Soon, other girls started to show up. When Becka showed up, she asked, “Katie, did you join Girl Scouts?” “I am not sure,” Katie said. Looking at Auntie, she continued, “Auntie, did I join this Girl Scouts troop?” “I would love to have you, but I don’t think I or your mother can manage the hour journey one way every Monday, so you will only join us on the rare occasions when your Dad is watching you on Mondays. Sorry, Sweetie,” Auntie said. Katie mumbled quietly, barely loud enough for Stacy to hear, with a frown, “Which is almost never!” Auntie continued, “Maybe if you enjoy this, I can help you find a troop at home,” which got a smile out of Katie. When all the girls had arrived, Auntie told them all, “Welcome, girls. We are going to get started with the promise before singing a silly song. Eventually, we will be walking to our previously scheduled volunteering at the nursing home, and finally, we will close back here for your parents to pick you up. As you may notice, we have a guest today that you may have met on Saturday. Katie give everybody a wave, and everyone say hi to Katie.” Katie just shyly waved as a chorus of girls said hi to her before joining the girls in the Girl Scout Promise she remembered from her past. ~o~O~o~ “Do I have all the girls here in the lobby?” Auntie asked as she counted the gathered girls in the lobby of the nursing home. She continued with, “Nine troublemakers, I believe that is everyone, please group up into groups of three, and each group hold hands as we cross streets, like how we got here.” With that, she led the girls back towards her house. When they got back to the house, one or two cars were parked in the driveway, with patiently waiting parents in them. Auntie ignored them and led the girls towards the house, where she had the girls gather into a friendship circle as a closer. Once she officially closed the meeting, she released the girls to their parents. Katie just milled around until the rest of the girls had left before Auntie and Stacy escorted her to her house next door. She walked in the door, letting the Bullards in behind her, to find Daddie watching another sports game, which caused her to respond with her normal eye roll. Daddie greeted them soon after they entered, “Hello girls, how well behaved was she, Sara?” Auntie replied back to him, “She is always an Angel, Adam, well other than trying to do Stacy’s homework for her, but I quickly nipped that in the butt. Here are her clothes, and she probably is only damp. I changed her two hours ago, just before the other girls showed up.” While this discussion was going on, Katie blushed and rubbed her bottom, which her Daddie did not miss. Handing her the bag, she was sent upstairs to change into the pajamas she wore over the weekend. She returned downstairs to discover that the Bullards had left, and Daddie was cooking dinner in the kitchen. “Come sit down. The food is almost ready. After dinner, we can find a Disney movie to watch before bedtime, Sweetie,” Daddie told her.

Y'all are making me feel like a giant at 5'7" --- Sam has suffered a disaster on the bike ride and now she needs to deal with the aftermath. That mean more than just cleaning up though as Nina comes to have a heart-to-heart. --- My writing is my passion and my income. I'm only able to write as much as I do because of the wonderful support from my subscribers. With the ABDL purge on Patreon hurting my income dramatically I have set up a couple of alternatives. If you enjoy my work and want to support me there has never been a time where I need it more. For $5 you can see every update to my stories one week before anyone else and for $10 you get early access PLUS access to 50+ stories EXCLUSIVE to subscribers. There are other rewards and tiers available including discounted commissions. To find out more please consider visiting one of my subscription sites. Prices, rewards and eveything else are the same across both https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy Thank you for reading and supporting me and my work ❤️ --- Walking beyond the line of trees Sam looked for a spot that would give her some space. After walking a few yards into the forest it almost felt like she had entered a different world. It was darker and cooler as the tall trees blocked the sun. Sound seemed to be dampened as well. The trees blocking off everything that wasn’t in the tiny clearing Sam now stood in. It would’ve been beautiful if it hadn’t been for the smell. That wasn’t the forest’s fault though. The floor was soft thanks to the dead pine needles that littered the ground creating a natural pillow. Sam let go of the bag and decided this was as good of a place as any. She pulled out one of the clean baby diapers and placed it on a stump nearby. Grimacing, Sam crouched down to untie her shoes. It meant feeling the messy waste in the back of her pants spreading further as she lowered herself. It was gross. Sam looked around to make sure there was no one watching and then finally pulled down her pants. As she stepped out of her clothes she checked to make sure there was no leakage, thankfully the diaper seemed to have contained everything. She felt a little impressed at how much punishment these disposables could take. “Alright.” Sam muttered to herself as she looked down, “How am I going to do this?” It was a legitimate question. Sam knew that there would be quite a mess in that diaper and she wanted desperately to avoid getting any of it on her clothes or hands. Holding up her shirt and cleaning at the same time seemed like it would be very tough. She thought about how babies were changed on their backs and decided she would give it a go that way, at least it would make it easier to keep her shirt out of the way. Sam laid down amongst the pine needles and foliage. She pulled her shirt up and out of the way before reaching for the diaper tapes. With the toilet roll at the ready she started to pull the tapes away from the front of the padding, the smell seemed to get worse with each one. When the final tape came away the front of the diaper slumped against her. She tentatively lifted it and was pleased that none of the poop had seemed to have migrated to the front of the disposable, it seemed like that would make clean up slightly easier. Getting to work Sam scrunched up her face as she tried to clean herself. It quickly became apparent how difficult it would be, it seemed like every time she cleaned one area another would be smeared, she couldn’t see behind herself either so had to tentatively try to clean whilst blind to how bad things were. Sam had no idea how long she was in that clearing working away but it felt like forever. She felt slightly panicky that she would be left behind, that her friends would just leave her there. They would see this as their chance to break away from her. It was completely irrational but she didn’t feel like she was in a rational situation. She stood up and bent over to try to finish cleaning the last hard to reach places. Finally, with the last of the toilet paper, Sam wiped all over her behind and between her legs. When the paper came away clean she let out a deep sigh of relief. The diaper was still laying open on the ground but she had been around the smell so much that her nose was actually getting used to it. She had tried to drop all the used paper in the diaper and she made sure not to leave anything behind as she folded the diaper up and taped it closed. It felt like a miracle that, as far as she could tell, she hadn’t dirtied her clothes or hands. “Sam?” Nina’s voice called out through the trees. Her friends were looking for her. Sam froze and then a second later Nina stepped out from behind a tree. She looked around and then saw Sam and the scene of the change. The small woman grabbed the diaper she had taken out for the change and used it to cover herself up like a shy toddler. “Oh, sorry.” Nina said as she spun around, “We were just starting to worry you were lost.” “It’s fine.” Sam said with a long sigh, “If you give me a second I’ll be done.” “Sure.” Nina replied. She walked over and picked at the bark of a tree and making sure not to watch Sam. Sam opened the diaper and laid it on the ground. She sat down on it and then lowered herself so she was on top of it. She looked to the side where Nina was still pointedly looking away as if the tree in front of her was the most interesting thing in the world. The temptation to ask Nina to help was strong but she couldn’t, she had blown that with her constant stream of embarrassing situations and there was no need to cause another one now. Reaching down between her legs with a grunt Sam pulled the diaper up and quickly taped it closed. It was a skill she was quickly getting good at. She sat up with loud crinkling that Nina seemed to be pretending not to hear and then she put her pants back on. “You can turn around.” Sam said as she hopped up on to a log at the back of the clearing. Nina turned and smiled as she looked around the clearing. She walked over and sat on the log net to Sam. For a good half a minute they just sat in silence listening to the birds singing above them and the leaves rustling as the wind blew through them. It was peaceful. “Been a crazy day, huh?” Nina finally said. “Things have been crazy ever since we got here.” Sam replied, “I’m really sorry about… everything.” “What? No! You have nothing to apologise for.” Nina said quickly “I feel like I do.” Sam shrugged, “You guys just want a normal holiday with friends and I’m here turning everything into a complicated mess. I’m a massive burden.” “None of it has been your fault.” Nina said, “I’m the one who should be sorry.” “Why on Earth would you need to apologise?” Sam asked. “You were right behind me on this bike ride.” Nina kicked the ground. The frustration at herself leaving a small scrape in the dirt, “You were going through all that shit and I should’ve been there to help. I should’ve heard you or checked on you or… something.” “First of all, did you mean that to be a pun?” Sam asked with a small smile, “Secondly, you couldn’t hear me. There was nothing you could’ve done. I should’ve remembered to use the toilet before we left. Even if you saw the trouble I was in what would we have done? It’s not like there’s an overabundance of bathrooms around here. It’s not your fault.” “I’ll agree it wasn’t my fault if you agree it wasn’t your fault either.” Nina said with her own smile. Sam held out her hand and Nina shook it a second later before both girls laughed themselves to silence. Sam sighed as she looked over at the balled up diaper still laying in the middle of the clearing. She found herself wondering what they were going to do with it, they couldn’t leave it there after all. “And you’re not a burden.” Nina broke the silence, “I don’t want you to ever think like that, OK?” Sam nodded her head a couple of times but didn’t really believe Nina. It was easy to say that she wasn’t a burden or that nothing was her fault but it was a lot harder to believe it. She knew that if she had stayed home the other three would be having a much smoother time. She couldn’t blame them for resenting her. She resented herself. “Besides, I don’t think I’d have come if you weren’t here.” Nina finally said. She was looking pointedly away from Sam back at the tree that had captivated her as Sam had changed. “What!?” Sam was shocked. “I’m serious.” Nina said. “But… Why?” Sam frowned as she looked at Nina. Her cheeks were red but how much that was because of the recent physical exertion Sam couldn’t know. “Because you’re my closest friend!” Nina laughed, “I would want to be wherever you were. Here, back at the dorms… Heck, I’d probably follow you home to your family in the summer if you let me.” Nina laughed but Sam was feeling a flood of emotions. The wave of affection she had felt earlier was back. She felt like she was tingling all over and she was worried she was about to faint. Nina turned to look at Sam and then did a double-take when she saw Sam was looking right back at her. The air was still and even the birds seemed to have stopped chirping. Sam climbed to her feet on the log and closed the distance to her much larger friend. She held her arms out and before Nina could say anything she wrapped them as far around Nina’s chest as they would go. She leaned against Nina’s clothes as she closed her eyes. She didn’t know what she was doing, all she knew was that she had a lot of emotions and they needed to be expressed. She didn’t trust her mouth to say them so she fell back on something a lot simpler. Just as Sam was about to pull back she unexpectedly felt Nina’s arms around her as well. Her heart fluttered as the hug was returned. No words were shared but it felt like that one physical embrace communicated more than any of their conversations had ever done. They could’ve been wrapped up there for one minute or one hour. Time seemed irrelevant to Sam, it faded into the background along with the trees around them and the sound of nature. All that existed for Sam was what she could feel. Eventually Sam felt Nina’s hands gently take her arms. They separated but Sam didn’t look away from her friend’s face. She wondered what was about to happen as her heart felt like it was about to burst. Almost imperceptibly Nina leaned forwards towards Sam. “Nina?” Amy’s voice cut into the clearing. Sam jumped and both she and Nina scooted away from each other. Just a moment later Amy came walking into the small clearing in the same direction Nina had. She looked over at the two on the log and smiled with relief. “We thought you were both lost!” Amy said, “Chrissy is just-… Are you two alright?” “We’re fine.” Sam and Nina said at exactly the same time. “You just look a little…” Amy paused to find the right word. That was quite something for Amy who seemed to know more words than the dictionary, “Flustered?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nina said. She almost sounded convincing, “I was just helping Sam.” “Right…” It sounded like Amy suspected something was going on but didn’t know what, “Anyway, you guys missed a bald eagle swooping over the lake and grabbing a fish. It was so cool!” Sam smiled. Amy started gushing excitedly about the wildlife encounter and as happy as Sam was that her friend was excited she was happier that it had distracted from asking more questions. They started making their way back to the clearing. Nina scooped up the messy diaper from the ground, she pulled out a plastic bag she had in her pocket and slipped the used disposable inside. She placed the plastic back in the backpack she had let Sam borrow and managed to do it all so smoothly Amy didn’t notice as she led the way. “Finally.” Chrissy said as the other three emerged from the trees, “I’d run out of people to send in looking for you.” “Sorry.” Sam replied with a timid little smile. “Is everything alright?” Chrissy asked. “Everything’s fine.” Nina answered, “Now let’s get eating. I’m starving.” --- If you want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW at either of the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyymi677/chapter/fc4760f5-ef1f-4dd2-a4e5-7a38eaa28a2d https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1200075

Somewhat surprisingly, it is the exterior of the indwelling catheter where the bacteria mostly grow. The flushing of the urine down the centre tube keep that part mostly clean.

I've no plans to stop, don't worry. I'm writing chapter 6 as we speak.

I am currently sitting in a diaper full of diarrhea. The accident started about 2 hours ago with a contraction and a long solid poop the second wave was a diarrhea mudslide followed by more diarrhea mudslides coming about 15 minutes apart. My diaper is pretty full now and I am pretty sure there has been a diarrhea blowout into my diaper cover. I will be changing shortly.

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

Of course getting a bike wasn't going to be simple for Sam. When is anything simple for her? Once the friends get underway Sam is given plenty of time to appreciate the view and think about her complicated feelings. --- My writing is my passion and my income. I'm only able to write as much as I do because of the wonderful support from my subscribers. With the ABDL purge on Patreon hurting my income dramatically I have set up a couple of alternatives. If you enjoy my work and want to support me there has never been a time where I need it more. For $5 you can see every update to my stories one week before anyone else and for $10 you get early access PLUS access to 50+ stories EXCLUSIVE to subscribers. There are other rewards and tiers available including discounted commissions. To find out more please consider visiting one of my subscription sites. Prices, rewards and eveything else are the same across both https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy Thank you for reading and supporting me and my work ❤️ --- Sam had a lot on her mind. For once she wasn’t thinking about the diaper rubbing against the inside of her thighs, instead she couldn’t stop thinking about the sudden surge of feelings she had felt towards Nina. She was more confused than ever before. It was fortunately not a long walk to the bike area. A large warehouse sized building with a translucent ceiling that let a lot of light in. There was a small shop selling bike accessories and things off to the side but most of the floor space was just covered with bicycles. Sam looked around in awe, she had never seen so many bikes in one place and the air was filled with bells ringing and the sound of maintenance being done. There was a small desk with a Midforest employee stood behind it. He seemed to be checking some bike locks as the women approached him. “Hello. Picking up?” The man asked. “Yes. We reserved some bikes under the name Christine Walker.” Chrissy said. “Uh huh.” The man entered the details on the tablet on the desk, “OK, just bear with me for a minute.” The employee walked away leaving the girls to wait. There was no shortage of things to see. Sam found all the people wandering around with different types of bikes interesting. There was a lot of movement and colour. Amy, meanwhile, was looking through her guidebook and excitedly telling the others what they might see. Her enthusiasm was contagious, she was normally very reserved so to see her so chipper about something made Sam happy. “OK, we have three mountain bikes.” The man replied as he came back. Sam immediately felt her good mood faltering. Every single time there was a problem it always worked out worse for her and she had to think this was going to be no exception. The man lined up the three bikes and helmets and then checked his terminal again. “We have the four adult bikes booked but I see you a have a kid with you. Let me just check something.” The man walked away again before anyone could correct him. Sam blushed again. She didn’t blame him, she looked more childish than ever she was sure. The other girls looked and gave “what can you do?” kind of shrugs. They waited anxiously until the man came back again. “I’m afraid we don’t have any children’s bikes available.” The man said as he scrolled on the screen, “You must’ve made a mistake on the booking because there’s no way she could use an adult bike. Let me see… We have two option as far as I can see. We have… tricycles or the trailer.” As if to show what the trailer was someone walked past with a bike that had a small pod attached to the back. At the end of a little metal attachment was a child seat with restraints, there were two wheels, one on either side, and a transparent canopy that covered the whole thing from the elements. Sam had seen children riding around in these little trailers on preceding days with their parents cycling and pulling them along. “But Sam is an adult.” Chrissy said with frustration, “Why are none of you people ready for a smaller than average adult!? I swear I’m going to report Midforest to…” “Chrissy.” Sam sighed, “He’s right. I can’t ride one of those bikes… I mean, it’s just basic physics. I wouldn’t reach the pedals.” The employee looked a little bewildered. It was hard to tell if Chrissy’s sudden anger or Sam talking and actually proving she wasn’t a baby was more confusing to him. Sam looked at one of the nearby tricycles. There was no doubt they were primarily for children. “It might be hard to keep up on the trail.” Nina said as she followed Sam’s gaze to the three wheeled bike. Sam had to agree. The trail was going to be over a lot of uneven ground with loose surfaces and probably some steep hills, it didn’t seem like the tricycle was built to be taken off the tarmacked areas. “I’m… I’m sorry, ma’am.” The man was looking down at Sam. She could see he was struggling with the familiar internal battle of looking at someone who appeared to be a child but wasn’t, “Did I hear you’re all going out on a trail?” “Yes.” Sam replied. “The tricycles will struggle with that.” The man said, confirming Sam’s suspicions, “It doesn’t have the gears of a regular bike and the steeper hills will be a big problem if nothing else.” “Which means…” Sam looked at a nearby trailer. It was clearly the only option. “If you don’t want to do it no one will make you.” Nina said quietly. “We’ll take the trailer.” Sam said. She put on a brave smile. Chrissy didn’t look happy that Sam was being treated differently but she signed the forms and everyone started walking out with their bikes. One of them had the trailer attached and that was the one that Amy was pushing. Sam followed the others out. Already her thighs were getting annoyed about the thick padding between them, privately she thought getting to sit down the whole time on this trail was probably a good thing. “Alright, Sam, if you want to hop in we…” Amy started. “Is it… Would it be OK if Nina was the one on this bike?” Sam asked as she placed a hand on the tire of the bicycle that was attached to the trailer. “Why?” Amy asked, “I mean, it’s not a problem, I’m just wondering if there’s a reason.” “Nina’s the fittest.” Sam said logically, “I know I’m light but I’m still extra weight.” “Makes sense to me.” Chrissy said, “Leaves you free to do some cool tricks, Amy. I bet you could do an awesome wheelie.” Everyone laughed. As Sam looked at the trailer that was to be her method of transport. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nina looking at her curiously. The truth was that Nina was the fittest of the four of them, she had run track in high school, but there were other reasons that Sam chose her roommate to be the one attached to her. “Need some help?” Nina asked when Sam looked over. “Just with the straps I think.” Sam replied. “Ah, good thinking.” Nina said as she crouched down next to the trailer, “Seat belts save lives. When we get into a fifteen bicycle pile-up you’ll be nice and safe.” Sam laughed perhaps a little too hard. Her cheeks went a little pink as she started climbing into the trailer. It wasn’t the easiest thing to get into like this and after getting her foot caught on the corner she started to fall backwards. Her arms swung around as she tried to stay up but she was going down until she felt two hands catch her. One was on her back and the other was resting square on the rear of her diaper. Sam’s eyes flew open as she was helped to get upright by Nina’s hands pressing against her. She turned and sat down in the seat with a face as red as the trailer base. Nina’s face seemed to be similarly red. She didn’t say anything as she reached in and helped Sam with the straps. As the straps were tightened Sam felt herself getting pushed back against the seat. The way the bottom of the safety seat curved meant that Sam sunk into it and her clearly padded crotch was pushed out slightly in front of her, her legs hung uselessly over the lip of the seat. She hadn’t realised just how much like a baby she was going to feel when sat down like this. She was very much reminded of a child’s seat in a car. “Alright?” Nina asked nervously, “Everything OK?” Sam nodded her head and Nina smiled. Reached over to the zip on the clear plastic canopy and brought it all the way round. It suddenly seemed like Sam was in her own little bubble. Sound became a bit muffled but she could see everything. What she didn’t like to see was other people looking in at her and waving as if she was a child. She could hardly blame their assumptions but it still made her grumpy. “Everyone ready?” Chrissy asked from nearby as she sat on her saddle, “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Sam heard Nina laugh as she hopped over the frame of the bike and sat down. A second later Sam felt a jolt as they started to move. All of a sudden she felt a lot less happy about her position as she gripped the sides of her safety seat. It was strange to be pulled along like this without any control over her speed or direction. The group cycled along the tarmac roads past the adventure course and the main plaza. Sam shifted awkwardly in her seat, she was quickly finding that these restraints were no joke as she could barely lean forwards at all. Just to find out if she could she tried to call out for Nina’s attention but it seemed like she couldn’t be heard. The combination of the other girls talking, the canopy and the sounds of tires crunching on gravel parts of the road seemed to drown out Sam’s small high-pitched voice. After passing most of the more populated areas of Midforest (and Chrissy nearly fell off her bike after an ill-conceived attempt at a “trick”) the group came to a small opening that led into the forest. Amy checked the signs and her map and then excitedly clapped her hands. She led the way on to the trail. Sam immediately noticed that the trail was harder for her friends to cycle than the flat tarmac had been. The loose gravel path rapidly rose and fell and there were many bumps. Sam could tell Nina was having to work hard with the extra weight attached to her bike, she was frequently rising out of the saddle to try and peddle harder to keep up. Every time Nina lifted up Sam couldn’t help but stare at her butt. It looked just fantastic under Nina’s pants. This was an unusual sensation for Sam to say the least. She’d never found herself attracted to anyone much. Amy, who was well-researched on topics like sexuality, suggested Sam might be demi-sexual. Sam had to look up what that meant and found out that it was, essentially, a descriptor for a person that only experienced sexual feelings for someone after developing a close bond with them. In other words Sam didn’t fancy people because of how they looked or if they seemed nice, she had to have an emotional attachment first. Was that what was happening now? Did Sam actually have a crush on her best friend? Sam tried to think logically about everything. She had always kept walls up so other people didn’t get too close. She was obsessed with not being seen as less than an adult, she never let anyone see her naked or even mostly undressed but in the last few days it had all changed. Nina had seen Sam at her most vulnerable and embarrassed but she still stood by her. “Guys! We should stop here!” Amy shouted, “It’s beautiful and we’ll be able to see herons, kingfishers and…” “Alright, we get it.” Chrissy said as she skidded to a stop, “I could use a breather.” Nina slowed and then finally stopped. Sam had been lost in thought but as she now looked around she agreed the scenery was stunning. This section of the path was winding up the side of a hill with the lush forest on one side and on the other a large beautiful looking lake. There was near silence apart from the four girls. “Um, guys?” Sam said after half a minute. “Oh crap!” Nina quickly said as she hurried over. Sam’s three friends had been walking over to the edge of the path to look down to the lake and seemingly forgetting that Sam was strapped into her seat. Nina hurried over and unzipped the canopy as she muttered apologies. Sam found it hard to look at her friend for reasons that had nothing to do with her diaper. With the straps removed Sam still couldn’t get out of the deep seat without help. Nina took both her hands and helped pull her up. Once Sam was standing she held on for just a second longer than she had to. Sam hopped down from the trailer and went to the others to look at the lake. Amy already had her binoculars out and was urgently scanning the edge of the water for wildlife. “It’s beautiful.” Sam said as she stood on tip-toes to see over the low hedge at the side of the road. “Here. Let me help you.” Nina said. “You really don’t…” Sam started. Sam felt Nina’s hands take hold of her and she was suddenly lifted off the ground. Sam’s eyes were wide open as she was lifted all the way up to sit on Nina’s shoulders. Her hands wrapped around Nina’s forehead to keep herself stable. She had to admit the view was even more beautiful from this elevated viewpoint and she looked around at the scenery with a smile. Even though the hefty diaper between her legs was pressing against the back of Nina’s head she felt only a little embarrassed. “Are you feeling alright?” Chrissy asked suddenly. “Huh?” Sam looked around to where Chrissy was frowning and holding up her bike. “You normally HATE people picking you up.” Chrissy said accurately. Sam couldn’t respond. It was true, she actively avoided it in all situations even if it meant she had to struggle or find some way to climb up to where she needed to go. She hated to even ask for help yet alone ask to be lifted up. Now she was sitting on Nina’s shoulders without a care in the world. Her face went red, she didn’t know what to say. “She just wanted to see the view.” Nina said, “Do you have a better idea?” Chrissy shrugged and turned away to look at the view again. Sam saw her head quickly turn to look at Sam one more time before she let the subject drop. Sam was grateful for Nina’s intervention. The truth of why she was happy to let Nina pick her up wasn’t something she was fully prepared to admit to herself yet alone other people. “Ooh, look!” Amy excitedly pointed across the lake, “It’s an osprey!” Without binoculars all Sam could see was a small bird gliding fast over the water. She watched it get lower and lower until the bird’s legs stuck out in front of its head and it made contact with the surface. A few seconds later it started laboriously flapping its wings and when it rose up it had a fish in its talons. Amy squealed excitedly as she followed the osprey’s progress back amongst the trees. “Cool.” Chrissy nodded her head appreciatively. “That was amazing!” Amy smiled widely as she lowered her binoculars, “Wait… what are you doing up there?” Somehow Amy had been so absorbed in watching the lake and the animals she had completely missed what was happening with Sam. She was frowning in confusion exactly the same way Chrissy had been. “It doesn’t matter.” Nina said, “We should probably move on anyway.” Nina crouched down and allowed Sam to carefully lower herself to the ground. Almost as soon as her feet touched the earth she felt a rumble in her belly. That was ominous but there was little she could do right there and then. She tried to ignore the looks she was getting from Chrissy and Amy as she was helped back into her trailer. “Thank you.” Sam said as the straps were done up. “You’d have done the same for me.” Nina said with a smile. “I don’t know if sitting on my shoulders would be all that useful to you.” Sam joked. The two shared a laugh before the canopy was closed around Sam again. As she heard Nina giggling she felt like her heart was swelling again. She was almost grateful when her friend went back to the bike since it would stop Sam from making a fool of herself. She chastised herself. Of all the times to develop a crush on someone this was a bad one, not to mention it being on her best friend. She would ruin the closeness they had if she told the truth. Besides how could anyone like Sam in that way when she had embarrassed herself in front of them so often. Sam’s internal monologue was stopped when there was a sudden pull and the trailer started moving. It was only a few minutes later that Sam felt another rumbling in her tummy, it was more urgent this time and now she was getting really worried. “Um, Nina?” Sam called out as loudly as she could manage. --- If you want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW at either of the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyymi677/chapter/f401115a-6967-45d5-aac3-74a2abe6e9df https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1184467

Chapter 4: Unless I Knock I really hadn’t thought this through as well as I should have. I continued to stare down at the massive wet spot underneath me on the bed. The urine had spread out in a puddle around me. I could feel the wetness beneath me from my knees to my toes as my bare skin pressed against where the urine had soaked through the sheets. It was still warm, though not quite as warm as it had been in the seconds after I had finished peeing. I couldn’t bring myself to move. I had attempted to inch away at first, but that only accentuated the feeling of the wetness against my skin. I did not like that sensation at all. I drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. I had done it. Actually done it. I hadn’t chickened out this time. This next week was going to be the worst of it. I was going to need to keep doing this until my parents decided to purchase pull-ups for me. And that was something that had to be their decision. No twelve-year-old, even one who would be far better off wearing pull-ups to bed, would be actively asking their parents to purchase them for her. That meant Mom and Dad would need to arrive at the decision on their own, without anything but the most subtle of hints from me. As I sat uncomfortably on what couldn’t actually be described as an accident, I now fully understood why my two younger cousins had no issues with their parents buying them pull-ups to wear to bed. For the longest time, I had struggled to understand why someone who was just a regular bedwetter – not someone like myself who actually wanted to wear diapers for the sake of wearing them – would be OK with doing so at night. The proof was right underneath me. There couldn’t be any way that someone would prefer going through this every night rather than wearing a pull-up or diaper to bed. There couldn’t be any question that having an accident contained in a pull-up would be preferable to having to deal with soaked pajamas and bedding in the middle of the night. I couldn’t just continue to sit in the middle of the bed. I inched over to the side of the bed, leaving a trail of wet spots across the sheets as I moved away from the nucleus of the fake bedwetting accident. I reached to the side of the bed, where I could barely make out the outline of the lamp sitting on the nightstand. My hands fumbled across it in the dark for a few seconds before they came across the light switch. I averted my eyes, shielding them from the blinding light with my arm. Then I opened my eyes again. The damage was far worse than it had appeared when I had wet the bed in darkness. My light pink sheets only made the location of the accident more apparent. And I had indeed left a trail of wetness over to where I was sitting next to the lamp. The bottom of my light blue cotton pajama shorts were completely soaked, as was the underwear beneath them. Even my T-shirt hadn’t been completely spared. The bottom of it must have touched a wet spot on the bed as I had gone to turn the lamp on, as there were some wet spots on the bottom of the shirt as well. I had known the process of faking bedwetting to get pull-ups wasn’t going to be pretty, but even then, the reality of what it was going to entail hadn’t really sunk in until now. But now what? My initial plan had been to wet the bed in the morning, but I had worried that might not be a good idea. There were several problems I found with that option. The first was that all the wet spots on the bedding would still be warm; it would look a lot more like I had peed a few minutes ago than having had an accident in the middle of the night. Too suspicious. The second issue with that idea was how it would be much harder to conceal the bedwetting from Grace and Jackson. They would both be awake, and it would be much more likely that they would come across wet laundry being hauled down to the laundry room or eavesdrop on a conversation about bedwetting between me and our parents. That meant that a nighttime accident was necessary, and I would need to proactively inform my parents about it. How in the world was I supposed to begin that conversation? Hey, Mom and Dad, it’s me. Maddy. You know, your twelve-year-old daughter who has never wet the bed before. About that. I just pissed all over my pajamas and bed just now while I was asleep. Sorry about that. Can you help me get cleaned up? Just another thing I hadn’t thought through. But I was going to have to do it, and soon. I stifled a yawn. I couldn’t risk falling asleep and being forced to attempt to stealthily hide my wet bedding from my siblings while also informing my parents of the accident. I just had to trust that my parents would show the same amount of discretion in handling my bedwetting as they had done for my older sister. I grabbed a dry portion of the bed cover and used it to wipe off my feet and legs before getting off of the bed. It wasn’t super bad to walk in wet shorts, but the wet underwear beneath them clung to me uncomfortably as I retrieved my phone, turning on its flashlight function as I turned off the bedroom lamp. I had to nudge Chester back into the hallway with my foot as I creaked open the door. The stupid cat would probably accidentally end up in my wet bedding if I let him in. It was bad enough that I was probably going to need to get in the shower. The one time we’d had to bathe that poor cat gave me no desire to have to do it again. I shut the bedroom door behind me as I entered the hallway. A few seconds later, I was standing in front of my parents’ closed bedroom door. I couldn’t bring myself to even gently tap on the door, let alone knock on it enough to wake them up. But the longer I waited, the more likely it was that one of my siblings might get up to use the restroom or get a late-night sip of water. I silently went through a half-dozen variations of what I could say to my parents. I wasn’t happy with any of them. The truth was that I wasn’t going to find the right thing to say. There wasn’t any possible way to explain the situation to my parents that wasn’t completely and utterly humiliating. My thoughts drifted back to the magazine under the bed. This was the price I had to pay to get my pull-ups. I hoped it would be worth it. I reached out and pressed the palm of my right hand against the door. The door wasn’t locked, but I knew better than to open it without their permission. I pulled my hand back a few inches and then did what could be most accurately described as a few soft pats on the door. In the silence of the night, the sound of my palm on the wood door seemed to reverberate through the hallway. But I knew I hadn’t actually made enough noise to wake anyone up, whether that was my siblings or my parents. I closed my hand into a fist. I couldn’t bring myself to knock on the door. I thought of a desperate plan to turn back. I could sneak down to the basement. I knew for a fact that the washer and dryer weren’t audible from the second-floor bedrooms. I could get everything washed and dried. I could remake the bed. No one would be any bit the wiser to what had occurred. I would be exhausted the next morning. But it was Saturday. I could sleep in. I shook my head. That was how this always went. I couldn’t let myself get turned aside, not after everything I’d done. I tried to build an image in my head of what my life would be like next week. Mom would have purchased a small package of pull-ups for me. I would have pretended to be embarrassed about using them, but would have reluctantly agreed to do so in the end. I would be lying in bed, wearing them in place of my underwear. I certainly wouldn’t have any pajama shorts over them. No, I would want to be able to see the colorful design, run my hand against the crinkly exterior. Even three years later, I could still longingly recall exactly how that had felt, along with the padding that so comfortably fit between my legs. And then, when I was wetting myself in bed, it would all be contained. I wanted ever so badly to know what that felt like. None of that was going to happen unless I knocked. No matter how embarrassing the next week was going to be, it would all pass. And I would get what I wanted. I rapped my knuckles on the door several times. I winced at the sound it made, but there was no way around it. I paused, listening first for any sounds from behind the door and then from further down the hallway where my siblings were sleeping. Nothing from either one of them. I rapped my hands again on the door. This time a little harder than before. And this time, there was a result. I thought I heard something creaking from beyond the door. Then a hushed conversation. Then a couple of footsteps. Then the door opened. I didn’t have to fake the shame and embarrassment I felt as the bedroom door creaked open to reveal Mom standing in front of me in a nightgown, with the dim light of my phone illuminating her face. My hands were trembling as I looked at her. Through the gap in the door, I could see Dad, who was still in bed. He was also craning his head to get a look at me. “Is everything alright?” Mom asked. She didn’t sound as though she was fully awake yet. “I… I…” The beginning of my planned response drifted off into nothing. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. It turned out that I didn’t have to. My face burned as Mom’s eyes drifted away from mine and down toward my waist. There was no immediate verbal reaction to what she was seeing, but her eyes told the story that her lips didn’t. Her eyes blinked rapidly a couple of times and then widened, staring at my shorts for several seconds before breaking away to look back at me. I couldn’t meet her eyes this time. I focused instead on the sash of her nightgown. Mom turned around and motioned for Dad to get back into bed. “It’s OK, honey. I’ve got it.” She stepped out next to me in the hallway, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her. “Let’s go and get everything cleaned up,” Mom said as she began to walk toward my bedroom. Even though I’d had some light from the lamp and my phone, my eyes still weren’t prepared for how bright the room suddenly got when Mom flipped on the light switch to my room. Mom took a deep breath as she surveyed the bedroom. “You have one of those dreams where you thought you were sitting on the toilet?” “Yeah,” I muttered. I didn’t even know that was a thing. But it seemed like a believable lie to go along with. “Well, it happens,” Mom said. She didn’t sound upset. Just tired. “I’ll take care of getting the bedding in the wash, but you need to get yourself cleaned up as well once you’ve helped me get the bedding stripped.” I tossed all of my pillows to the floor. They, thankfully, had been completely spared. Mom didn’t say anything further as she helped me strip the bed. The cover hadn’t gotten all that wet, just a little bit from where it had gotten tossed in the wet bedding and used to dry myself off. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the bedding. The sheets were very soaked. There was a thin cotton mattress protector beneath the sheets. Also soaked. And then there was the mattress itself. The wet spot on it was as bad as I had feared, considering how wet all the bedding had been. I really hoped that I hadn’t ruined it. Though, on the other hand, that type of damage might spur my parents on to get me pull-ups a lot more quickly. Mom had wrapped the sheets and mattress protector in the much dryer cover and was holding it all in her arms. “One more thing, Maddy. I need to wash your clothes as well. Just take them off in the bathroom, and then you can inch the door open a little bit to hand your wet pajamas to me. I need to put them in the wash with all of your bedding. And you need to get cleaned up in the shower before getting dressed again for bed.” I hastily grabbed some underwear and clean pajamas from the dresser and retreated into the bathroom. I grimaced as I pulled off my wet shorts and underwear. I had forgotten how much I disliked the sensation of wet fabric on my skin. Per Mom’s instructions, I slid my wet clothes through a slightly open door. I winced at the thought of Mom having to pick them up as if she wasn’t already holding plenty of evidence of my supposed bedwetting accident. I turned on the shower, adjusting the shower head so that the water was coming out at an angle that would allow me to step into the shower and wash my midsection without getting my hair wet. I hated going to bed with wet hair, and I wasn’t going to use a loud hairdryer at this time of night. There wasn’t much that could wake up either Jackson or Grace, but the hair dryer might be loud enough to do so. The last thing I needed was for either of them to be wondering why I had been up taking a shower at this time of the night. Since I wasn’t washing my hair, it only took me a couple of minutes to get scrubbed down. I washed as thoroughly as I could, eager to get every trace of urine off of my skin. Once I had pull-ups to wear to bed, that wouldn’t be a problem. Those would actually be able to absorb everything. I could see the light coming into the hallway from my open bedroom door as I stepped out of the bathroom. I walked slowly through the hallway in a conscious effort to not create any more noise than I had made already. Mom was patting the mattress dry with paper towels. There were two bottles of cleaning sprays on the nightstand, along with a rather sizable pile of wet, discarded paper towels. A bit of guilt ran through me at the sight of Mom cleaning up after my mess. None of this was fair to her. I grabbed a handful of paper towels off of the roll and leaned over the mattress next to Mom, pressing the towels against a wet spot that now gave off the harsh scene of cleaning chemicals. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I pressed another wad of paper towels into the mattress. Mom took a break from patting the mattress dry and rubbed my back. “Don’t worry about it, Maddy. You were asleep. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, it’s not like it is the first time I’ve had to clean up a mattress in the middle of the night.” I knew she was referring to my older sister, but as eager as I was for more details about Grace’s past bedwetting, I couldn’t bring myself to ask Mom some more questions. Besides, I doubted I would get any more answers than on that day when I had accidentally found out about my sister’s bedwetting. We went through a couple dozen more paper towels before Mom stepped back from the bed and turned to look at me. “Well, I think your mattress will survive. But it still needs to dry some more. I set up your sleeping bag on the floor.” I had been so focused on helping Mom clean the mattress that I hadn’t noticed the dark purple sleeping bag that had been unrolled at the foot of the bed. It was all set up for me to crawl into. And, of course, Chester was already curled up on top of it. For a dumb cat, he could be pretty perceptive sometimes. I knelt down and slid into the cool sleeping bag, careful not to displace the cat. “I wouldn’t get too worked up about it,” Mom said quietly to me as she went to turn the light off. “I’m sure it’s just a one-time thing.” Her hand touched the switch. I was enveloped in darkness. If only she knew. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com

I can't feel anything in the urethra, just the warm wetness spurts in my diaper and my general level of sogginess. Ok I definitely want to try this.

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

Reddy's new reality, when he wakes up.

I love the smell of my bedroom from my nightly bedwetting

For me as an adult baby and especially one that’s a full time permanent adult baby. Here’s what makes me feel like a baby; 1) Being diaper checked by anyone including my mom. Even being talked to like a little. 2) pooping and peeing in my diapers in places that Adults, grown-ups and big kids can never do. 3) being diaper changed by my mom. Even being put into clothes that exposes my diapers. The biggest thing that makes me feel like I’m a baby is being in a soft, very thick and crinkly diaper where I can’t close my legs. I’m waddling or crawling on all fours like a baby.

https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories/2018/073.html This is one that I wrote a few years ago. Let me know what you think. Thanks

For a period of time, the trailer park I live in had an operational garbage truck and did their own trash collection. I'm sure at some point the staff, or even my landlady who helped at times just might have noticed the large diapers in my trash. They do know I am single. On a side note, one of my sisters is a nurse that has exclusively worked in nursing homes. She used to bring Attends boxes home to use for storage and hauling Christmas presents around. So several times I got to bring my Christmas haul home in an adult diaper box.

I guess I can say diapers turned me on from the very young age of twelve. I would get off the bus and stop in front of my house and make like i am checking the mail box and totally soak my diaper under my panties, and then mess my diaper as my knees got weak. I would go to the back of my house and climb up into the tree house and go inside and sit and squish it around. Relax in a messy diaper for a good half hour then go inside and clean up before my parents came home from work.. Those were the good innocent years (lol). Now so many years later it is almost the same thing but now I have grown older and can hold a good BM for two days and drive with my diaper full, it's even more fun.