Leaderboard

I'm sorry it has taken so long to get this out. I may make a few corrections still, but I wanted everyone to know I have not given up the story. I will not give it up until I finish it. 03-20-24 Update: I fixed a lot of errors and improved the flow. Chapter 25 - Unexpected Addition Darlene's fingers drummed on the cold surface of her desk, her eyes staring blankly at the wall cluttered with sticky notes and IT reports. She still couldn't stop thinking about the meeting with Julian, which made her feel she was being trapped like an animal, desperately clawing for an escape. She wanted a way to vent this out of her system. Anger at Julian, Bryan, and Corporate about how they justified John’s response and pinned John's reckless behavior on her. She was only doing her job, trying to keep Avery safe just as she was asked to do. Their inability to keep their own employee safe from an ill-behaved employee who seems to have a record of issues with other employees somehow is now her fault, and there was nothing they could do but install dam security badges on each floor and entrance/exit. "Ugh," she muttered under her breath, grabbing her personal iPhone phone and swiping through her contacts. She needed someone to vent to, someone who would understand the pressure she was under and the injustice that was served to her. Laurisa and Ashley, her sisters, were always there for her in times like these. Her thumb hovered over their names before she pressed the call. The ringtone kept going on and on. "Come on, pick up," Darlene whispered, willing either of them to answer. But one by one, both calls went straight to voicemail. The weight of frustration settled heavily on her chest. "Damn it," she hissed, quickly typing out a text to both of them: 'I need to talk ASAP. Call me when you can. Really need my sisters right now.' She then proceeded to text her sisters again in desperation. “I really need one of you. I am about to lose it at work.” She sighed, locking her phone and placing it facedown on the desk. Alone with her thoughts, Darlene's mind raced back to the conversation with Julian. They just didn't understand that John was about to hurt Avery. If she let it go on, that is precisely what would have happened. He came up here in a fit of rage and was uncontrollable, yet somehow, she was expected to reign him in with calm and delicate talking. Avery had already finished his second cup of coffee and wanted to check on Darlene. He glanced down at his favorite coffee mug adorned with colorful Legos. Despite its sentimental value, it was covered in dark, crusty stains. Avery knew Darlene would see the mess and tease him. From the thought of this, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. So, he made his way to the communal kitchen, trying to ignore the uncomfortable bulkiness of his diaper underneath his sweatpants. In that moment, he longed for the simplicity of pull-ups, which were much easier to hide and more comfortable beneath clothing. It was a thought he never imagined he would have in his adult life. When Avery entered the kitchen area, a couple of employees were talking. Avery put his head down as he passed them by and went to the sink to wash his coffee mug. He could hear them discussing the new security measures. "Nice outfit," a voice jibed, breaking Avery's concentration. He looked down only to realize his shit was only half buttoned and showed his white shirt underneath, which was really his onesie; half his shirt was tucked into his pants, and the other half hanging out the sides of his pants. His face flushed as he looked up to see two of Darlene’s employees smirking at him. Avery turned away from them and faced the kitchen sink as he buttoned up his shirt as panic surged. Avery forced himself to remain calm. Surely, they didn't know about the diaper. Surely, Darlene hadn’t said anything to them, but Avery still felt exposed, as if they knew his secret. It didn’t matter; Avery couldn't help but feel self-conscious as the comment was made, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He hated that he had to wear bulky diapers, and the onesie Darlene had bought for him only made him feel more exposed. Yet, it was necessary to keep his secret hidden. Their comments didn’t help him shake off the constant reminder of his vulnerability. The internal struggle between wanting to hide and needing to accept his new reality waged within him. After buttoning up and tucking in his shirt, Avery turned around to face his coworkers. “Thanks," Avery replied tersely. He tried his best to ignore the comment. Then he put the coffee mug in the sink and placed some soap in it. He began washing the outside and inside of the mug, making sure to remove any lingering stains or residue. While he rinsed his mug, he could hear the coworkers’ mumbling words, but he couldn’t make them out. His heart panicked, and he wanted out of the kitchen as fast as possible. Avery was paranoid because he just knew the coworkers were talking about him. When he finished cleaning his coffee mug, Avery walked over and knocked on the office door before entering. "Is everything okay, Darlene?" Avery asked cautiously, opening the door slowly and peering into the office. His eyes were filled with concern, but he kept a respectful distance, sensing her need for space. "Fine, Avery," she lied, forcing herself to smile. "Just dealing with some... management issues." She didn't want to burden him with her problems, especially considering the struggles he was already facing in the current environment. She knew all too well about his fragile state and the anxiety that plagued him. "Alright," he said hesitantly. “Do you mind if I grab another cup of coffee?” Avery held out his Lego coffee mug. Darlene just nodded and said, “Sure.” Her voice was dry and monotone—not the normal Darlene, and certainly not the one he met prior to this weekend at her house. Avery walked over to the Keurig and placed a K-cup in there labeled morning brew. He then went to the small office fridge and found his normal bottle of creamer labeled “Avery’s Creamer”. He turned to see if Darlene was watching, but she wasn’t. She was focused on either her email or her iPhone. He could feel her anxiety even though she was trying to hide it. Afterward, he poured his creamer into the coffee mug, set it on the Keurig, and pressed brew. Avery watched Darlene from behind. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew this was all his fault, and she was hiding the real reason for her frustration. For some strange reason, he wanted to sit on her lap and hug her, but he refrained from doing it. She probably didn’t need a hug and would push him away right now. He was bad at reading people, and this wasn’t a time to try. Once the coffee was complete, Avery began to retreat back to his work. "If you need anything, though, I'm here." "Thank you, Avery," she whispered, grateful for his unwavering support. But right now, what she really needed was her sisters' advice. As Darlene tried to refocus on her work, she couldn't help but feel helpless, trapped within the confines of her own thoughts, the expectations of others, and the injustice she felt. Avery returned to his office to start working again, aware that he had changed the whole office atmosphere with the incident last Thursday. He couldn’t get over the feeling that everyone was looking at him, but he didn’t dare look up to see if he was right. As he sat down and sipped his coffee. Avery took a deep breath and tried to block out the distractions around him. It wasn’t long till Avery's fingers danced over the keyboard, the rhythmic tapping a soothing counterpoint to the chaos that had been swirling around him all morning. He finally had let go of the thoughts that the security cards were his fault, even though he could hear the whispers down the hallways and across the cubicles. He was able to immerse himself in his research on cell walls, seeking to understand better their structure and function for the drug interaction project he'd been assigned. The screen before him was filled with diagrams and molecular schematics, each more complex than the last. His heart pounded in his chest in excitement as he attempted to refocus on the task at hand, which he loved. He read that the cell wall lies outside the plasma membrane, which defines the boundaries of the cell itself. The wall is freely permeable to most molecules, but the membrane exhibits selective permeability, tending to concentrate specific dissolved molecules and ions inside the cell. This complicated the matter of how he could calculate the external and internal pressure effects on the cell wall, which he knew he needed to figure out to make these custom drugs effective. As he delved deeper into his research, Avery's thoughts wandered to Darlene, her own struggles weighing heavily on his mind. He wished there was more he could do to support her, but for now, all he could do was focus on his work and prove himself to be a valuable asset in their ongoing battle against cancer – and against the challenges they faced both within and beyond the walls of their workplace. A few hours passed as Avery's eyes darted between the lines of text on his computer screen, furiously absorbing every last bit of information about cell walls. The pressure of the onesie and diaper beneath his clothing weighed heavily on him today, a constant reminder of his vulnerability, but at this moment, this wasn’t what he was focused on. He clenched his jaw, determined not to let it hold him back. This whole day had not been what he had hoped to come back to. "Guess what, Avery?" A familiar voice cut through the tense silence, and he looked up to see Christy standing behind him in a pretty light blue work dress, the delicate light hugging her slender frame. Her hazel eyes sparkled with excitement as always. A hint of perfume lingered in the air, a subtle but alluring scent that added to her charm. She radiated energy and vitality as the always positive girl he had come to know. "Hey, Christy," Avery said, confused about why she was here since they didn’t have any time set up to work on anything together today. "What's going on? What are you doing here?" "Looks like we're about to be full-time work neighbors," she announced eagerly, gesturing to Bryan approaching with two boxes of office supplies in his arms. She grinned at Avery, her dimples deepening as she giggled in anticipation. "Really? That's great!" Avery forced a slight smile, though his mind raced with uncertainty. How would having a new coworker impact his already delicate situation? He didn’t want Christy to know about his diapers or, worse, about Darlene inspecting his diaper. Avery was also sure this had something to do with John, and once again, this was his fault in his mind. "Good morning, Avery," Bryan said. "I hope you don't mind us invading your space a little." "Of course not," Avery replied, trying to sound genuine but not so sure about this. "It'll be nice to have some company." Christy's enthusiasm seemed to be authentic as she started to grab one of the boxes from Bryan. "Is it okay if we put these boxes down on your desk for the moment until we know where I'm going to sit?" Christy asked, gesturing to the second box she held. "Sure," Avery managed to say, forcing a semi-fake smile onto his face. His thoughts churned like storm-tossed waves, threatening to pull him under. He really liked Christy but as an office mate. He wasn’t sure. "Here, let me help you with that," Avery offered, rising from his seat to take the box from Bryan’s hands before Christy could get to it. The box’s weight surprised him, and he nearly staggered under its bulk. “What in the world did she bring with her?” he thought to himself. He knew he should be grateful for the distraction her arrival provided—a brief respite from the relentless nagging feeling that all this was his fault—but in fact, it was just another reminder that it was his fault and another chance to be found out. "Thanks, Avery!" Christy beamed at him, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I can't wait to get settled in." There again was her enthusiastic voice. In fact, she was glad to be getting away from John and his two cohorts. It would be much better to be close to Avery and help him program his mathematical solutions in the software. Avery couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at her carefree attitude—something he had lost touch with long ago. "Let's go see where Darlene wants to put you," Bryan said, leading the way toward the office door. Avery placed the box on his desk, still feeling the shock of Christy's unexpected move.” Want to come with us, Avery?” Bryan clapped Avery on the shoulder. Avery just nodded yes, stood up, and followed behind Bryan and Christy. He prayed that neither of them could see the bulk or hear the slight crinkly sounds of the diaper he was wearing. As they approached Darelene’s office, Avery thought to himself that he was honestly a little shocked that Darlene would have agreed to this. But then it dawned on him as they approached: Darlene probably didn’t know. She would have told him. Bryan's knuckles rapped against the closed door, and Avery couldn't help but hold his breath. He could envision the conversation that was about to take place - the confusion, frustration, and possibly even anger that would follow. A wave of guilt washed over him, knowing he was adding to Darlene's already stressful day. The door opened, revealing a puzzled Darlene, who took in the sight of Bryan and Chisty standing together and Avery standing behind them. Bryan smiled. “Good morning, Darlene. I am so grateful you agreed to this. I need to know where you plan to let Christy sit," Bryan smiled. "What? No one told me about Christy coming up here," Darlene replied, both surprised and upset. Her gaze flicked to Avery, who felt he'd been caught red-handed, even though he'd had no part in the decision and no clue about it ahead of time. Avery quickly interjected, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on him. "I apologize, Darlene. This caught me off guard as well. I had no idea Christy would be joining us until just now." "Didn't Julian tell you?" Bryan asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "We're moving Christy up here for her protection away from John." Bryan watched as he read Darlene’s puzzled and upset facial expressions. “I thought Julian had already discussed this with you. He told me he was going to talk to you this morning." Bryan said hastily, trying to defuse the tension. "It's just a temporary arrangement." “Temporary by what means?! Till you get, John fired?!” Darlene quickly responded in anger. As the conversation continued, Avery became increasingly distracted by the warmth of his body and the confines of the onesie he wore beneath his clothes. He tried to focus on keeping his breathing steady, but his heart raced, fueled by anxiety and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, as he stood there feeling helpless to control this situation. Avery's heart clenched as a stepped back up against the back wall of Darlene’s office. He listened to the heated exchange between Darlene and Bryan just beyond his cubicle. He could feel the tension thicken in the air, and a knot formed in his stomach. It was apparent that Darlene wasn't happy about this unexpected change, especially since she had yet to be consulted first. He hated tense situations and never did good with them. "An IT department isn't the place for Christy," Darlene argued, her voice rising with frustration. "This isn’t a research center dedicated to some magical DNA cancer treatments and a hideout for employees who are afraid of your troublemakers." He couldn't help but empathize with Darlene's plight – she'd taken him under her wing when no one else would, and now it seemed her generosity was being taken advantage of. "Look, I understand your concerns," Bryan attempted to soothe her, his tone measured and calm. Avery's heart raced as he heard Bryan acknowledge Darlene's concerns. His anxiety increased, and he felt a sudden need to pee. "We know it's not ideal," Bryan said, "but we're worried about Christy's safety with John and his friends harassing her. With the new security badge system causing tensions, we need to take precautions." The mention of John made Avery's bladder twinge even more, but he tried to ignore the urge to use the bathroom. He wanted to be present for this conversation in case his name came up, though his body protested against his will. Plus, he was trapped inside Darlene’s Office with Bryan and Christy blocking the way. "Christy is the last person I'm taking in from your department," Darlene snapped, her voice raised so that anyone nearby could hear it. "You can't expect me to house your whole R&D center just because you can't control John and his fucking behavior." It took all of Darlene’s emotion and resolve not to slam the door on them. Avery winced at the outburst, clenching his thighs together instinctively. He could no longer deny the pressure building in his bladder, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the room. It felt like a choice between preserving his dignity, staying informed, and not looking like he didn’t care about what happened with Christy, and he didn't know which option was more terrifying. "Darlene, we would appreciate your help and understanding in this matter," Bryan replied, his voice tense but controlled. "We'll find a solution to the John issue as soon as possible." Darlene couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation. She knew that the solution was to ignore it and pretend like it would never happen again. Plus, they wanted to make an example out of her for office violence. Avery's mind raced, trying to formulate a plan. Should he try to slip away now or risk embarrassment by waiting too long? The sudden silence in the room interrupted his thoughts, signaling that the discussion had temporarily ended. Panic gripped him as he realized he'd missed his chance to escape unnoticed. "Get it together, Avery," he thought, forcing himself to focus on his work. "You've faced worse situations before." "Please, just let me make it through this," he silently prayed. "I can't afford another slip-up." The air in the office seemed to thicken as the silence continued. Then Darlene's voice reverberated off the walls again, her anger palpable. Avery, already on edge from desperately needing to use the restroom, felt his heart rate spike at the sudden outburst. His grip on his own self-control wavered, and in that moment of terror, he lost the battle. Warmth spread through the diaper between his legs, rapidly soaking up the unexpected release. Avery's cheeks burned with humiliation, and he tried to shift his body to the side of the door frame, trying to hide any evidence of his accident. The bulky padding now felt even more intrusive, a constant reminder of his failure to keep control. Christy, oblivious to the situation unfolding just a few feet away, had been observing the heated exchange with wide eyes. When she finally glanced over at Avery, she noticed him standing uncomfortably and shifting his posture, a pained expression etched across his face. Concern filled her, and she hurried over to check on him. "Hey, are you okay?" Christy whispered close to Avery, genuine worry in her voice. Avery forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself, especially with everyone on edge and arguing. It took all of his willpower to keep his gaze focused on Bryan and Darlene. "Alright, if you need anything, just let me know," Christy whispered close to him, puzzled by Avery's behavior. Darlene finally let out a long sigh, her frustration dissipating slightly. "Fine," she relented, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "But this is the last time, Bryan. I can't keep taking in people from other departments just because management can't control their employees." "Thank you, Darlene," Bryan said gratefully. "I promise we'll work on finding a more permanent solution." As the conversation drew close, Avery wanted to waddle back to his office and sit in his chair, defeated yet again, but he was wet and needed a change into a fresh diaper before he accidentally leaked. It wasn't that he had anything against Christy - quite the opposite, in fact. But the prospect of having someone so close to him, someone who could potentially discover his secret, filled him with dread. He felt a tear start to swell up around his eyes. "Get a grip, Avery, don’t start to cry now," he muttered under his breath as he felt the warmth of his diaper as it swelled up around his crotch. "Alright," Darlene relented, sighing. Christy, you'll be two desks down from Avery." "Thanks, Darlene," Christy said nodding gratefully, walking back to her new spot to begin unpacking her belongings. Avery watched from the corner of Darlene’s door, not moving till everyone left. Avery then slipped towards Darlene's desk, heart pounding in his chest. The shame hung heavy in the air around him, making it difficult to breathe. "Darlene, I..." he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I had another accident” as a tear slide down his face and his head hung low. "Did you bring a spare diaper in your backpack?" Darlene asked gently; concern etched across her face as she realized the argument was stressful for the boy. "Y-yes," Avery stammered, avoiding her gaze. "Alright, go get it, then." Avery wiped his tears before he left the room. Darlene got up and started closing the blinds to her office and waited for him to return. Avery quickly picked up his backpack, not paying attention to Christy, who was watching him walk back to Darelen’s office with it. When he came back with his backpack, she locked the door behind them. "Sit down," Darlene instructed, gesturing to the chair by her desk. Avery did as he was told, trying to keep his composure while his mind raced. Darlene's gentle yet firm voice offered advice, "Next time, try to remain calm. Perhaps you could practice some breathing exercises and visualize a happy place. There are some helpful apps for that." She reminded him that he couldn't let these incidents occur frequently, or others might start to question them. "I know," Avery mumbled, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He tried to focus on the patterns in the carpet beneath his feet, but his thoughts kept intruding, taunting him with images of his coworkers' reactions if they ever found out. "Okay, let's get you changed," Darlene perked up but kept her tone professional as she opened a drawer and the supplies she brought with her this morning. "And when we're done, we both need to get back to work." "Right," Avery agreed, his voice barely audible. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for yet another diaper change. He opened his backpack, pulled out his only spare diaper, and handed it to Darlene. It felt odd to be offering this exchange. Darlene spread out a large towel on the office floor, careful to smooth out any wrinkles. She then carefully arranged a few essential items: a package of baby wipes and a bottle of sweet-smelling baby powder. As he watched her, he couldn't help but feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the thought of using such items for their intended purpose. But Darlene didn't seem fazed at all, simply going about her business with a calm and confident demeanor. He couldn't help but be grateful for her as he didn’t realize this was her maternal instinct at play here. "Alright, lay down on the soft towel so I can change you into a fresh, clean diaper," Darlene instructed gently as she patted the towel. He couldn't help but feel a tingling sense of awareness and fear creeping over him, not because of Darlene but because Christy was just outside, within earshot. He could imagine her giggling if she knew his predicament. As he got up off the chair, he began to unzip his pants and step out of them, revealing the bottom of his onesie. “Do I take this off?” he asked confused. Darlene looked up at him, as she was already on her knee. “No need; the snaps are made for easy access just as I did before. Now, come on and lay down.” She patted the towel. The humiliation of these diaper changes had become all too familiar, yet a small part of him craved the comfort they provided and the attention he got from Darlene. Avery placed his pants on the chair and laid on the large towel. As Darlene leaned over to him, Avery closed his eyes and focused on the slow rise and fall of his chest. The shame still clung to him like a second skin, but he resolved to push past it and told himself to return and concentrate on his work when this was done praying Christy wouldn’t find out. He felt Darlene unbuttoned the onesie as he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, focusing on the patterns within the acoustic tiles. "Do I have to have the baby powder again?" he asked, hoping for the answer ‘no’ as he continued to stare up. Darlene looked down at him and replied, her tone firm but gentle. "As I said before, it's necessary to prevent diaper rash, so just trust me." He sighed, knowing she was right. But it didn't make the process any less mortifying. He heard the tapes unfasten from his diaper as she pulled the front end of the soaked diaper off, exposing him. He then lifted his hips as she slid the wet diaper from underneath him and then slid a new, fresh, disposable diaper into its place. He gritted his teeth as she applied the cold otion and baby powder, feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath her touch. He tried to connect the dots on the ceiling, hoping he wouldn’t get erect from her gentle touch on his sensitive parts. He could smell the heavy scent of baby powder in the air as it was applied to him. "Almost done," Darlene murmured, fastening the fresh diaper and then pulling the onesie in place, snapping the crotch back together. She helped him sit up, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. “You're doing great, Avery. Just remember to breathe and stay calm when you get nervous. Maybe you can prevent this future." After Darlene finished helping him, he quietly said a grateful "thank you." As Avery stood up, Darlene's hand almost reached out to pat his bottom, but she stopped herself, realizing what she was about to do. He then pulled his pants back on, feeling the added bulk of a new, fresh diaper underneath his onesie and trousers. "Of course," she replied, reassuringly squeezing his shoulder. "Now, let's get back out there and show them what you’re made of." It was almost as if she was giving encouragement to a boy not a young man. The embarrassment weighed heavily, but he couldn't afford to wallow in it. Suppressing a shudder, he picked up his backpack like he was about to head home and brought it back to his office. "Focus, Avery," he silently urged himself, knowing Christy was just outside Darlene’s office setting up her new desk. You can't change what happened, but you can keep it from happening again. You are smarter than this, stronger than this." He told himself as he did his best to hold back a tear. With that, he exited the office, determined to put the incident behind them and move forward with their day. A cacophony of thoughts raced through Avery's mind as he tried to drown out the sounds of Christy unpacking her belongings nearby. Christy glanced up from her unpacking, her gaze lingering on the closed blinds of Darlene's office. Curiosity piqued, she watched Avery return with his backpack, his body language tense and uneasy. The door clicked shut behind him, and Christy couldn't help but wonder if he was in trouble for something. "Is everything okay?" Christy asked genuine concern in her voice. "Everything's fine," Avery replied, trying to sound casual. "Just a minor issue." "Alright then," Christy said, nodding slowly as she returned to setting up her desk. Avery settled back at his desk, praying that the walls of the office had been thick enough to keep their secret safe. He focused on his research, determined not to let his anxiety get the better of him. Avery's heart raced as he returned to his desk again and slowly started to settle down, the scent of baby powder clinging to him like a cloak. Sitting down and looking at the computer, he did his best, trying not to draw attention to himself. Christy glanced at him from her new workstation; curiosity continued to be etched on her face. She didn’t feel like Avery was being straight with her and something was wrong. "Hey, Avery, can I pick your brain about this problem I'm working on that has your formulas?" she asked, strolling over with a notepad in hand. "I could use a fresh perspective." "Sure, let me take a look," Avery replied, attempting to calm his nerves. He was starting to focus on the equations before him, finding solace in their complexity. Avery began to explain the purpose and reasoning behind the equations. As they delved deeper into the project, Christy leaned in closer, her nose wrinkling delicately at a familiar scent. Soft notes of baby powder wafted toward her, causing her to pause and comment, "You smell like... baby powder?" Avery's muscles tensed when he heard the words. He struggled to maintain his composure. Sweat prickled at the back of his neck as he hastily responded, "Oh, uh, it's just a new laundry detergent." He prayed that she would accept his flimsy excuse. "It's supposed to be good for sensitive skin." "Ah, I see," Christy mused, raising her eyebrows with a hint of skepticism. She didn't press the matter further, but Avery could tell she was still puzzled by his choice of scent. The faint aroma of baby powder lingered in the air around them, mixing with the heady scent of coffee from their nearby cups. Avery quickly explained why he did what he did with the calculations that Christy was asking about. Christy finally agreed to his method. “it will be tricky to program, but I think I can figure something out.” She smiled. A wave of relief washed over Avery as Christy walked back with the notes she had taken and sat back down at her desk. They both separately drove back to their work. His mind whirred with calculations and possible solutions, grateful for the distraction from his earlier ordeal. Meanwhile, Darlene finally connected with her sister, Laurisa, on the phone when she called her back. She was eager to vent about the day's events and seek their advice. “Finally, you call me back. What took you so long?” Darlene exclaimed in a panicked and upset voice, feeling slightly neglected by her sister's delayed response. "Sorry, I was at the police department for new clients. They needed me to review their cases and complete all the necessary paperwork." Laurisa replied, her tone a bit strained as she became defensive of her own important work. Darlene could hear the exhaustion and frustration in her sister's voice and immediately regretted her initial outburst. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to imply that your work isn't important, too." She apologized sincerely, understanding the demands of her sister's job. “Darlene paused, trying not to cry from the stressful day. “I just really need my sisters, and I can’t talk about it here. I know it is short notice, but can we all meet up for dinner tonight? I really need to talk to you girls about what's been happening at work. I am about to lose it." Darlene said, her voice strained with frustration. "Of course," Laurisa agreed, concern evident in her tone. "We'll be there for you, sis. Just tell us where and when." "Great. Let's meet at that Greek place we love around four pm if that isn’t too early. It is the only way I think we will get any reservations this late in the week." Darlene suggested, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “No problem, I can get out of work early, and I am sure Ashley can too. Her work hours are generally not till late in the day.” Laurisa and Darlene both laughed. “I will make reservations for the three of us,” Laurisa replied. Darlene thought for a second. If they were going to leave work early, she needed to take Avery with her to ensure his protection. “No, make it four.” She paused. “I am going to bring Avery, the one I talked about previously.” “Oh really? It will be interesting to meet him,” Laurisa said. “First, you can’t Psychoanalyze the boy. The poor boy is confused enough as it is.” “Okay, I won’t. At least I won’t out loud. My job is to psychoanalyze people, and I can’t just turn it off,” Laurisa giggled. With that, Darlene hung up the phone, grateful for her sisters' unwavering support. As Avery and Christy continued work separately with only one empty desk between them, he found himself growing more comfortable in her presence, forgetting about the scent of baby powder. The earlier tension seemed to dissipate, replaced by the shared language of numbers and logic. For now, at least, his secret remained safe. About an hour later, Darlene came out of her office to talk to Avery. Christy looked up. Darlene was quick to the point. “Avery, I am going to leave work early at 3:30 pm today to have an early dinner with my sisters. With everything that has happened today and last week, I want you to leave with me and come to dinner. I just want to make sure your safe when I am not around. I don’t yet trust the badge system.” Avery looked up to see that in her expression, “No” wasn’t an answer Darlene would accept; however, it would be nice to leave before Christy so he would not have to worry about being caught in the elevator with his diaper on. Plus, lunch with Darlene last week was a wonderful break from fast food. “Sure, just give me five minutes heads up to wrap everything up.” Darlene nodded as she walked over to Christy and began talking to her. Darlene wanted to apologize for her previous behavior, saying she was taken off guard and that it wasn’t her fault she was so upset. Christy's face lit up with a radiant smile as she looked up at Darlene and they began to talk, her hazel eyes sparkling with warmth and excitement as they always seem to do. Avery couldn't help but steal a glance at her, his heart clenching as he watched her chat animatedly with Darlene, possibly about her new workspace. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about him, and the thought made his stomach churn with nervousness. Despite his desire to join in on their conversation, Avery stayed rooted in his seat, feeling left out and unsure of what they were discussing. He couldn't take his eyes off Christy, who seemed genuinely thrilled about something. As Darlene and Christy shook hands, Avery pretended to be focused on his work, trying not to eavesdrop. When Darlene approached him with a smile and an air of excitement, Avery couldn't help but feel a surge of anxiety. "Guess what, Avery," she said, practically bouncing with anticipation. He looked up at her, trying to act surprised by her sudden appearance. "What?" he asked eagerly. "Christy will be joining us for dinner!" Darlene announced gleefully. Avery tried to hide his nerves, but it was clear from the way his hands shook that he was taken aback. "I-I mean, that's great," he stuttered, attempting to sound enthusiastic. "I just wasn't expecting it." Darlene looked confused by his reaction. "I thought you would enjoy her company," she said innocently. Avery nodded quickly, trying to play it cool. "I do, I do. It's just...surprising." Inside, he was brimming with questions about what had just transpired between them and whether or not Christy knew about him wearing diapers. But outwardly, he put on a mask of composure and simply replied, "Christy is a wonderful person." "Perfect, Christy will join us at the restaurant around 4 pm," Darlene said with a hint of hesitation. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she had made a mistake by inviting her. However, with John lurking around and keeping a watchful eye on her was her duty. It seemed necessary to have invited her for safety. With a sigh, Darlene headed back to her office to wrap up the day's work. The anticipation of meeting her sisters and sharing all the events of the day filled her with some comfort. As she finished her work and shut down her computer, she could already picture herself sitting at the restaurant table, laughing and exchanging stories with her sisters, who were her best friends.

Hello there! Chapter 7 is finally here! This chapter in particular is a pretty "spicy" one, and I had a blast putting it together. I hope you enjoy, and please continue reading after the chapter for a quick update. With that said, here is Chapter 7, and, as always, thank you for reading. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 7: Hurts So Good (CW: Diaper Wetting, Diaper Messing, Spanking, Enema, Oral Sex) June 4th, 2023. 1:41pm A…a spanking? This early? Mommy pats her lap, ushering me to lie across it. “But Mommy, why am I being punished?” I mumble behind the pacifier. “Oh, is my baby confused? Let me clear that up for you then,” She stands up and looks into my eyes. While the height difference between us is only an inch, I can feel her towering over me. “You stayed out late last night, and didn’t think to text me beyond ‘I’ll take an Uber’. You came home drunk, and along with the scent of alcohol, your clothes reeked of cigarette smoke. You then threw up your overindulgence, and the cherry on top? You leaked all over the bathroom floor. Not to mention, you’ve already broken the “no talking” command I gave you. These are all very naughty things. And who do you think is responsible for that? I’ll let you answer.” I feel my sense of shame return, but it’s not alone. I feel…Little. Being talked down to like this, having my misdeeds listed before me, is making me feel incredibly small. “It…it’s my responsibility, Mommy.” She lets out a rather large laugh and places her hand on my head. “Oh no, my silly girl. It’s my responsibility. Mommy needs to teach you right from wrong, to help guide you when needed, and to punish you when necessary.” Oh goddess, my heart won’t stop beating. “So, I’ll say it again; you need to be punished. Now are you going to be a good girl and get over my lap, or are you going to keep being naughty?” Is…is she testing me? I can see it written all over her. This is her way of asking me how I want this scene to go. Well, if I’m going to be a baby, I might as well act like one. “NO! I don’t wanna spanking!” I stomp my foot, capping off my tantrum with the disrespectful act. “I see my baby is going to be a brat today. Well so be it,” Mommy grabs my hand and marches me over to the chair. Pushing me over her lap. I can feel her hand rubbing against my padded rear. “I would say this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you, but Mommy doesn’t tell lies.” A thwap rings through the air, her hand making contact with the diaper. That…didn’t hurt. The cushy material acts as a great insulator for the spanks, with only a slight tingling making its way through the protection. As a series of spanks continue to come, I begin to giggle, and Mommy takes notice. “I’m glad this is funny to you, 'cause this is the warm-up,” She reaches her hand out towards the floor, reaching into a large duffle bag. Rummaging through, she pulls out a wooden paddle, roughly 8 inches in length excluding the handle. “This is where your real spanking begins.” I feel the oak instrument brush against me, rubbing in circles, around and around, until a sudden swat has me flinch. OW! Okay, I felt that one. Even through the diaper, I can feel the sting across my cheeks. Swat after swat makes contact, and I can feel a warmth start to build in my rear. It hurts, but for some reason, it feels good. I don’t want it to stop! Mommy bends her head over, and I can feel her breath on my neck. “Green?” she whispers to me. “Green. Very Green.” I reply. “Such a naughty girl! I don’t think I’m getting through to you, but don’t fret. I have just the thing to fix that,” Her hand grabs hold of the back of my diaper, tugging it down, exposing my bare bottom to the air. “Are you ready sweetie?” I don’t have time to reply, as the spanking begins anew. FUCK! I can feel THAT! It hurts…but it hurts so good! Leaning into my role, I wriggle my legs, kicking them up and down in faux protest. “Don’t struggle Little One, you’ll only make this worse for yourself.” Good, that’s what I’m hoping. As the onslaught on my skin continues, I begin to feel another sensation build. Not now bladder! Having not gone since last night's incident, the urge is strong. “Mo…Mommy, stop. I need to go potty!” But she doesn’t stop. The spanking continues, and my desperation grows. “You’re not getting out of your punishment that easily. You can hold it until we’re finished. Now no talking, you little brat.” An especially strong swat tells me what I need to know; the spanking will continue, and I shouldn’t ask again. It seems like the spanking will never end at this point, the pace only growing faster, the whacks only growing stronger. I know I won’t be able to hold it much longer, so I don’t. I release the floodgates, trusting the front of my diaper to contain it all. Mommy stops her assault, taking note of the warmth emanating on her lap. “Didn’t I just tell you to hold it? Unbelievable! I guess you’re going to need a few more spanks to learn how to behave.” The combination of the warm pee and the punishment is becoming too much to bear. I can feel myself growing large, my erection poking into her lap. The wiggling from the spanking only adds to the increase in my gratification. I don’t know how much longer I can last. She whispers in my ear once more. “I can feel you getting hard baby. It’s okay, you can do what you need to do.” With the message received, she resumes her work with the paddle. Oh, oh goddess, I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum from being spanked, wearing my soaked diaper. What a naughty girl I am! Mommy brings her arm back, unleashing the hardest spanks so far. She begins to speak, enunciating each word with another smack of the paddle. “This! Is! What! Naughty! Little! Brats! Deserve!” That was all it took. The combination of emotions and sensations has reached its climax, and I release what little control I have. The tip of my penis, now tilted to the top of my diaper from the struggle, begins to shoot load after load onto Mommy’s lap. Time seems to have no meaning, but eventually, I fall limp, resting on her cum covered lap. Mommy begins to rub the small of my back, calming me down from my lust-filled high. “That’s it baby, good job taking your punishment. Such a good girl.” I can feel a cool liquid being applied to my backside, lotion I presume. Her fingers work the soothing balm into my stinging ass, instantly relieving part of the soreness. For a few minutes, I sit there, enjoying the gentle message of the aftercare. I can feel her hands remove from my cheeks and onto my shoulders. “Okay baby, stand up for me, will you?” I follow her command, and I feel the slight sag of the diaper, backside still tugged neatly underneath my butt. We both look down at her dress, noticing the white stains covering the front. “Such a dirty girl Roxie. Look at the mess you made. I think it’s time to move on to the second part of your punishment,” Shit, there’s more? Mommy grabs me by the hand and leads me to the corner, guiding my face towards the wall. “Now stay here until I say otherwise, and don’t even think about rubbing your bottom.” I can hear the door to the nursery open before closing once again. While I’m tempted to disobey, I keep my hands to my side, not daring to soothe my aching butt. The first few minutes pass quickly enough, but as time marches forward, I can feel my patience beginning to wane. Outside of the room, I think I can make out some miscellaneous noises: the sound of shoes across tile, the opening of cabinets, and…the running of the faucet? What could E…Mommy be planning? I don’t have to wait much longer for my answer, as I can hear the door behind me open once more. I can feel her approach, and tempted as I may be to turn around, I keep my nose in the corner. I can hear what I believe to be the sound of the crib’s rails lowering, along with noises I can’t quite discern. The noise quotes, and I hear Mommy begin to speak. “Okay Little One, turn around for me.” I do as I’m told, and I take a look at Mommy, her simple black dress having been replaced with a pink, long-sleeved shirt and mom jeans. She’s leaning hard into the “Contemporary” Mommy look. I can feel a little twitch beneath my diaper, my member not having the energy to resume full-mast, but still excited by the sight before me. “Can you make your way over to me sweetie?” I begin to take a single step, but Mommy holds out her hand. “Not like that, Little One. You’re a baby right now, and babies crawl, don’t they?” Oh, how I love this woman. I get down on all fours and clumsily make my way over to her, my reddened cheeks facing the sky. As I reach my destination, I look up at her, radiant as always, and I can’t help but feel like an actual baby. I watch as she bends over, and am surprised when she scoops me into her arms. “Wow Mommy, I’m surprised you can pick me up.” “Thank you, baby, but it’s really not a challenge. You’ve lost a lot of weight these last couple of years,” She’s right of course, but it still hurts to hear. When we first met, I could’ve been described as somewhat pudgy, and it caused…well there were a lot of issues that came with that. So I worked on myself, not for the expectations of the world, but for me. I started running on the treadmill, switched from regular soda to diet, and opted for fewer calories in my meals. I thought I made pretty good progress, but if Emma could pick me up this easily, perhaps I might want to consider putting some weight back on. “Alright, let’s get you in your crib!” But it’s still light out! I didn’t want the fun to end so quickly. “Mommy, I’m not tired yet.” She gently lays me down on my stomach, and I can feel the crinkle of the plastic sheet beneath the bedding, adorned with cartoonish images of teddy bears and letter blocks. “Don’t fret, it’s not quite bedtime for you yet.” She points up to the headboard of the bed, and I understand what she means. Hanging above me is a silicone bag, a shade of red deeper than my rear end. From the bag, a thin white hose extends feet in length, ending in a long tip. I know what it is from personal experience. I am no stranger to Enemas, having used them for years at this point. After all, it’s a necessary part of anal; being able to clean your insides out. “It’s time for your medicine baby. You have so many yucky toxins in your body that we have to clear out,” She pauses, waiting to see if I have any objection, before picking up the tip. She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a small canister of petroleum jelly, and liberally applies it to the nozzle. “Alright, take a breath for me, darling.” I feel the nozzle slip through my back door, and with a click, warm water begins filling my insides. I breathe in and out, letting the familiar cramps pass by as the lower part of my abdomen begins to bulge out. The water goes from a steady stream, to a light flow, and finally to just a few drops trickling into me. The tip is removed from my anus, and I clench my muscles tight, letting just a single drop escape my body. Letting the hose hang over the rail of the crib, Mommy then takes my diaper in hand, pulling the bottom back into place. I can feel the churning inside my colon, begging for an escape. “Mommy, I hafta go poop. Can I pwease use the potty?” I hope my use of baby talk may persuade her, but it falls on deaf ears. “You’re wearing your potty, silly. But I’ll tell you what. I have to get dinner started, so I’m going to leave you in the crib. If I come back and you haven’t filled your diaper, I’ll consider letting you use the potty.” She raises the side rail, sealing me inside the infantile bed, before walking out towards the kitchen, giving me one last look as the door closes behind her. I can feel the cramps increasing at a breakneck pace. Please cook fast Emma. *** Minutes seem to pass like hours, each moment becoming more agonizing. At this point, my stomach is screaming at me, demanding me to release it from its struggles. I don’t think I can hold out much longer. A thought strikes me; So why hold out? You’re a baby, aren’t you? So why don’t you just let go, and let your diaper handle the mess? My inner monologue makes a great point. Why try to fight it any longer? Sure, I haven’t ever released an enema into a diaper before, but would it be so different than just messing like usual? Mid thought, another cramp in my stomach tells me it's time. Even if Mommy were to come back in right now, I don’t think I’d be able to make my way to the hallway, let alone the toilet, without releasing. I get on my knees, spreading my legs apart, and with a crouch, I push. It takes a moment for anything to happen, but as soon as the liquidy mess makes its way to the entrance, my pushing results in an immediate wave rushing out from within me. The sounds of wet farts echo from the walls as more and more of the mess makes its way into my diaper’s seat. As soon as I thought the worst was over, another wave would make its way out, until finally, nothing remained inside me. I let out a sigh of relief, happy to have the mixture out of my body. I crank my head around, doing the best I can to assess the damage. The back of the diaper, once a solid, pristine white, was now a splotchy mess of different shades of brown. The diaper had done its job, evident by the layer of brownish water making its way toward the top of the absorbent material. I wonder… I get onto my hands and feet, entering into a crab-like position, before lowering my rear onto the bedding. Making contact, I can feel the mess shift around as my body comes to rest, making its way into whatever crevices it can reach. Oh my goddess, this will NOT be the last time I do this. I shift my weight back and forth, grinding the diaper beneath me. I’m a bit worried about leaks, but while the diaper is rather full, it seems to be holding up rather well to the movement. My grinding is interrupted by the creak of the door. In walks Mommy, holding her nose with one hand and waving the air with another. “Well, I guess that means you couldn’t hold it,” she walks over to the crib, lowers the rails, and cups the back of my diaper, checking its used status. “Such a big load you made for Mommy. Good girl.” She gives me a few gentle pats on the rear, careful not to spread the mess too much. “How about I get you changed, and we can eat dinner?” Here I am, grinding away in a lust-filled stupor, and she’s worked diligently to make us food. It’s more than that though. Throughout all of this, all Emma has done is make sure that I’ve been satisfied with our arrangement. I wish I could do something for her. I suckle on my pacifier as I think about this, and the eureka moment hits me. Duh, Roxie. I’ll just do what babies do best; putting things in their mouths. I grab Emma’s hand and pull her into the crib, catching her by surprise. “Wh…what are you doing, baby? We’ve got…” I take a page from her book, placing my finger on her lips. I gently raise the hem of her shirt, exposing her bra. “Oh, I think I get it.” She raises her arms, allowing me to remove the shirt from her body. I reach behind her chest, fumbling with the straps before the sexy garment finally falls free. I take a brief look at her breasts; even now, after all these years, I’m enamored with their size and shape. They put my A-cups to shame. I remove the pacifier from my lips and bring my mouth towards her nipple, letting my warm breath fall across the surface. She shudders in response, and I place my lips over her teat, suckling in that way that I know drives her crazy. “Oh, fu…fuck baby, keep doing that. Keep sucking on Mommy’s tit.” she gasps, and I’m more than happy to oblige her request. I work my tongue into the mix, extracting a moan from her mouth for my efforts. I take my hand and bring it up to her other breast, working my fingers around the area, gently squeezing as I go along. I hear cries of affirmation escaping her throat, so I continue, keeping up the pace. I hear her voice finally come to the surface. “Baby, Mommy…Mommy needs you. She needs to feel your mouth.” Damn, that was quick. I guess she’s more turned on by this than I thought. I’m not one to deny her request though. I remove her nipple from my mouth, a string of saliva bridging the surfaces. I proceed to carry out a series of pecks down her body, leaving a trail of black marks from my lipstick. Upon reaching her abdomen, I put my fingers to work and unbutton her pants, pulling the zipper down to reveal more of her skin. I tenderly slide them down her thighs, revealing her bright pink thong. Holy shit, that’s hot. I bring my lips to her folds, placing kisses along the entrance. “Roxie, please don’t tease me right now! I need this…need you.” The go-ahead was given, and I place my face between her thighs, lapping away at her core. She cries out, rasping at the air, and clenches her thighs around my head. “Oh fuck! Roxie, I’m so close, just a bit more baby.” I delve my tongue deeper inside, allowing the slow and steady strokes to build in pace. Hearing her cooes of pleasure urge me further, and I bring the tips of my fingers over her clit, providing her with simultaneous waves of pleasure. “FUCK! OH GOD, I’M COMING!” Her desperate cries blurting out into the air, I can feel her legs wrapping around my head, pushing me further inside her warm embrace. Her back arched out, I can sense the spasms radiating through her body. Her crevice tightens around me and I can feel my tastebuds being coated in her ejaculate. Her body calms itself, and my head is released from her limbs. I take a hard gasp of air, letting my lungs fill themselves back up. I can feel her cum coated over my lips, which I gladly lick, enjoying the taste. I look down at Emma, skin covered in a radiant glow, beads of sweat trickling from her brow. Still conscious, but reeling from the aftermath, she utters an unintelligible word of gratitude. I lay down across her chest, being spent myself, before giving her a peck on the lips, allowing her a taste of her nectar. “You’re welcome, Amore.” I collapse into her, and feel my eyes close. For this brief moment, let us rest. *** I’m unsure of the passage of time, but I awaken from our post-coital nap to see the setting sun through the window, basking the room in its orange glow. I can feel Emma shifting beneath me, perhaps the source of my awakening. “You have a good nap, Mommy?” My question is returned with a smooch, and I can see the pure elation on her face. “Thank you, Roxie. That…I needed that.” “Anytime my love. Now, I hate to kill the mood, but my diaper REALLY needs to be changed.” The smell has permeated the air at this point, creating a slightly unpleasant odor. “Okay baby, let’s get that taken care of.” She gently guides me off her chest, stretching her limbs out as she exits the crib. Holding out her arms, I make my way into them, wrapping my legs around her waist. I bury my head into her neck, enjoying the moment of being held by Mommy. Ever so gently, she lays me across the plastic top of the changing table. I can feel the mess spread itself all over again, but I decide not to worry about it. Mommy will take care of me. Walking over to the shelves, she grabs a fresh diaper, as well as a small bin, over to the table. Looking inside, I can see a wide array of changing supplies: powder, baby oil, wipes, everything that is surely needed to deal with the nuclear disaster inside my diaper. Ripping off the tapes one at a time, I avert my eyes to the sight within. I don’t want to see that. I feel the front of the diaper come forward, the stench becoming stronger whilst exposed to the air. “Pee-yew. Someone made a big stinky for Mommy, didn’t she?” Her gentle cooes help alleviate my disposition, making me feel 10 times better about the mess. Taking a wet wipe in hand, she holds it between her palms for a moment, allowing her body heat to warm it up. Lifting my legs upwards with her spare hand, she places the wipe between my cheeks, and I can feel her removing as much of the mess as she can. Throwing the used wipe into the diaper, she grabs a second one, repeating the process. After going through about a dozen wipes, she slides the diaper out from underneath my raised body, setting my legs down with care. She proceeds to wrap up the used garment, taking care to not spill any of the mess within. Tying the sides into a cute little know, I watch her grab a diaper disposal bag from the bin and place the soiled diaper inside. She then ties the bag shut and tosses the bag underneath the changing table. I hear a thunk of plastic on plastic, realizing that the old trash can still be underneath the desk. She really thought of everything. Picking up the new diaper, Mommy folds it open and gives me a light tap on the thigh. I raise my hips, allowing her to slide the change underneath me. “Look at you, being such a good girl right now. If only you could behave like this all the time.” I roll my eyes at the teasing remark and allow her to begin powdering my privates. She works her fingers around, spreading the substance evenly around my skin. She grabs a single wet wipe from the pack and uses it to clean the remnants of the powder from her fingers before tossing it in the trash. “Alright sweetie, last step! Do you want to help Mommy with the tapes?” With a blush, I nod my head, instantly slipping into my little headspace. She brings the front into place, allowing me the honor of doing the tape job. Now tightly secured to my waist, Mommy grabs my hand and helps me off of the changing table. “Now let’s get you into some more… age-appropriate clothes, shall we?” Hand in hand, she walks me over to the closet. Flicking the switch, I take notice of the changes made to the inside. What used to be a space for the storage of clothes, most never to be worn again, has been emptied out. The racks look bare, with only a couple of outfits adorning the hangers. Upon closer inspection, I realize that it wasn’t just “a couple of outfits”, but MY little clothes hanging up. “I know it looks a bit barren right now, but I’m sure we can fill it out with all sorts of new clothes for my beautiful baby,” The sound of obtaining new clothes perks me up, removing that last bit of sluggishness from the nap. “Now pick out what you want to wear, unless you want to just wear a diaper.” Just…a diaper? No, no more impure thoughts brain! I glance over my options, knowing them well, and decide to go with a classic. I pull the black skull onesie from the hanger. After all, it’s now my favorite piece. Remembering that moment just days ago brings a small tear to my eye. I was first accepted while wearing this onesie, and now, it shall remain in my heart as a cherished item. “Good choice love, now let’s get that yucky grown-up shirt off of you.” Taking the shirt from my hands, we begin to walk out of the closet. I can see the significance of my choice is lost on her, but it doesn’t matter. Guiding me back into the main room of the nursery, she places the onesie down for a moment, raising my arms up into place. I feel the cotton slip off over my head, and the chill of the evening covering my nude form. “Don’t worry, you’ll be nice and toasty soon.” I watch her open the snaps of the onesie, the satisfying pops ringing out. That sound never gets old to me. She begins working my arms through the holes, before finally sliding it down over my head. With a tug, the material evens itself out, and Mommy gets to work snapping the clothing back up, encompassing my fresh change in the black-dyed cloth. She takes my hand once more, and guides me to the mirror on the nursery door, allowing me to gaze upon myself. I look so…pretty. Except for my hair. It was admittedly a mess right now, sticking up in several different directions. I see her take notice as well. “Now that won’t do. How about I fix your hair up real quick?” *** Reminder to self: next time you eat her out, wear a damn hair tie! An agonizing 20 minutes of detangling, brushing, and conditioning later, my hair is back to its usual self. I guess you could call this a ‘fun’ bonding experience. Every time the brush made contact with a know, I’d yelp out in pain, resulting in about a thousand ‘Sorry’s from Emma. “Okay baby, that was rough, but we made it through relatively unscathed! How about we finally eat dinner? I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” My stomach growls in response. Yeah, I guess I really haven’t eaten today. “Sure, I could eat right now.” We exit the bathroom, my body waddling behind Mommy as we make our way to the kitchen. I watch as she pulls out a chair, beckoning me to sit. Taking my seat, she pushes the chair into the table for me. I’m getting the royal treatment today! “Alright sweetie, I’ll be back in just a moment with the food. Sit tight!” I watch her disappear through the walkway that separates the small dining section from the rest of the kitchen. I wonder what’s for dinner? Maybe she made her Chicken Cacciatore, oh or maybe some Spaghetti Bolognese! I can’t wait to dig in! Mere moments later, I see Emma return empty-handed, her face flushed. “So…bad news. I thought I left the stove on low, but apparently, I turned it off, so the Bolognese is ruined,” NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CURSE YOU, CRUEL WORLD! “But here’s the good news! We needed to go and grab your car for tomorrow anyway, so why don’t we go out to eat? We can make it a date night!” “Um, sure Em, but what about my outfit?” I was just starting to get used to wearing my onesie around her, but I guess I’ll have to get changed. “First, that’s Mommy to you, and second, just throw a pair of jeans and a jacket on. With other clothes, it will just look like a normal T-shirt, so what’s the use in changing? She makes a good point. I guess, to the average onlooker, it would appear to be nothing more than a shirt with a cartoon skull on the front, and I guess it would help cover up my diaper while out. “Okay Mommy, let me throw some stuff on, and we’ll go.” *** I looked myself over in the mirror once more, wanting to make sure my outfit was sufficiently covered. Wearing a diaper underneath my usual clothes was one thing, but leaving the house in a diaper and onesie has me a tad paranoid. The black jeans, simple in design, do well to conform to my current fit, and the black leather jacket, a size up from my standard wear, does a fantastic job covering my rear. I can’t even tell what I’m wearing underneath. Applying a fresh coat of black lipstick, I’m satisfied with the look of my “adult” self. I grab my purse from the counter and make my way to the front door. Emma is already there waiting for me, opting to keep her outfit from earlier on. “Alright, all set sweetie?” “Yes Mommy, now let’s go, I’m absolutely famished.” “Big words for such a little girl. Okay, let’s go.” She opens up the door, stepping into the cool air of the autumn evening, her hair swaying slightly in the breeze. She smiles at me, and I take a step out the door to follow her. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I do know one thing; I’ll have my Mommy every step of the way. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello Everyone, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 7 of Embracing Oneself I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you had just as much fun reading it. I just wanted to give a quick heads up about the next 2 chapters. The chapter following this one will be the first of the "side chapters", which will focus on how Roxie and Emma first met. It may be a tough read for some, but I believe that reading it will give a lot of insight into the character's pasts and motivations. Chapter 8, however, will go back to the main story, and will essentially be the end of "Act 1." Now, just because the current "Act" is ending does not mean the story is coming to an end, or that the chapters will slow down with their release. Instead, think of it like the ending of a the first season of a show. The story for that season comes to a close, plot points are closed out, some new ones emerge to tease viewers, and the "arc" for the season wraps up. Starting with Chapter 9, there will be a slight time jump, nothing to crazy, but it's there. Along with the time skip, Chapter 9 will be setting the stage for the true introduction of Alex and Jessica. I outlined those two along with Roxie and Emma when I initially started drafting the story, and all 4 of them are equally important to the story. I hope you look forward to these plans. I promise to work as quickly as I can, so you can learn about the second half of our protagonists. Now, if you'll excuse me, my diaper has sprung a leak, so I bid you adiue! Thank you for reading.

JUST THE FACTS, MA'AM When Vickie used her key to enter Sarah's apartment, she wasn't quite sure what to expect. She knew that it would be more than an hour before Sarah got home, but it was possible that Ian and Priscilla would be waiting for her. It all depended on how the hunt for the diaper thieves was going. The apartment was empty. Deciding that she was hungry as well as thirsty, Vickie began rummaging through Sarah's refrigerator, but she found nothing to her liking. The apartment felt as empty as it looked, the only sign of life the chair ominously sitting in the center of the living room. It didn't take a great deal of imagination to realize that this was where Sarah would be administering a spanking, a paddling, or a caning to correct her bad behavior, as well as Ian's. Shrugging her shoulders, Vickie decided to venture upstairs to Ian's apartment. She knew where Sarah kept the spare key, and she knew that his frig and pantry would be a lot more promising. Since they would be packing everything up on Friday, there would be no harm done no matter what she chose to eat and drink. Ian's frig was a treasure chest filled with mysterious delights. She was familiar with prosciutto, and had had her share of Genoa salami, but the man had a love affair with stuffed olives and peppers that clearly did not start in Minnesota. Not for the first time, she wondered where a guy whose car was buried under a snowbank even found this stuff. And what's this? Vickie took the lid off a container with something called Tzatziki, and sniffed the creamy white contents. She had no idea what it was, but it smelled good, so she was willing to give it a try. Made in Greece. Figures … Prowling around in a cupboard, she found a flatbread that looked like it would go well with the gunk. Pita. Isn't that Lebanese, or something? Diving into the refrigerator a second time, she came away with a nicely chilled bottle of rose. Val Verde Winery … Del Rio, Texas. Huh? Who knew they made wine in Texas? Looking around, she spotted a bottle of deep, dark red wine from Jordan squirreled up against the frig, with a lovely set of Waterford wine glasses keeping it company. She grabbed two, thinking to try both wines after she camped out on the living room floor. Fine food and drink, so long as you don't mind roughing it … Vickie had no way to know that Ian had cultivated the habit of eating and drinking well in the jungles of southeast Asia. Guy's been everywhere … Getting down on the floor, leaning back against the couch, Vickie grabbed the phone and called Sarah. . . . . Sarah reached over to turn off the pump, and disconnected the lead from her left breast. She had given it fifteen minutes per teat, just as the lady running the infants and maternity wear shop at the mall had instructed. And there was no getting around the fact that having a machine slurping away at your boobs felt downright weird. She wondered how a woman was ever expected to feel comfortable with so ridiculous a contraption. Probably invented by a man … Sarah answered the phone on the first ring, her sensuous breasts not yet returned to the prison of her functional but plain bra. She made a mental note to add maternity bras to the trio's next shopping trip. Sitting at her desk on the third floor of a busy urban hospital … nude from the waist up … She felt ridiculous. “Hello.” “Mommy, it's me. I'm at Ian's. There's no one here, and no one downstairs. I'm guessing that the diaper thieves showed up, and that he's chasing them down. Has he called?” “No, baby girl, not yet. How's your diapee holding up? Are you wet, poopy, or both?” “I'm a little wet, Mommy, but okay for now. Will you be home soon?” “As soon as Heidi comes in, I'll be coming straight home. You have been a very naughty girl, and you deserve a paddling. If I find you sitting quietly on my living room floor, like a good baby, you will receive ten swats. If you are anywhere else … twenty. Do you understand me, baby girl?” “Yeth, Mommy, I unnerstan. I be good, Mommy, really! Pwese don't paddle me hard!” Sarah hung up. Training Vickie was going to be an incredible challenge, and she was eagerly looking forward to it. . . . . Am I overdoing it, Vickie wondered. Nah … Sarah is really lapping this mommy shit up! Choices … choices … Vickie reached for the bottle of rose. It would go nicely with her Mediterranean hors d'oeuvres; the Jordanian red, she reflected, was best saved for later: a makeshift anesthetic was preferable to no anesthetic at all. Besides, she was extremely fond of a well turned out, rich red wine. . . . . All in all, Ian reflected, it had gone quite smoothly. When it turned out that they were the first to arrive at the sorority house, on the spur of the moment he had asked Priscilla to drop him off in front. He proposed to stand in the driveway while she parked, lights off, on a nearby side street that offered a clear view of the property. When Tippi and her friend showed up and their brake lights came on, that would be her cue to charge in with siren blaring and lights flashing. The skeptical look on Priscilla's face told Ian that she didn't think much of his plan, but rather than argue with him, she settled for sensibly suggesting that he find a patch of light on the driveway and stand in it. He was wearing dark clothing, she pointed out, and might not be spotted before he was run over. The resulting paperwork would be a nightmare. Ian had grinned, and stolen a quick kiss. Whatever else they were, Priscilla Canon and Ian Grady were, as they say south of the border, simpatico. Narrowly avoiding a brush with the bumper of Cindy Carlson's car, Ian played the innocent bystander while Priscilla, supported by two other officers, carried out the arrests under the watchful eye of campus police chief Walt Mischof. Julia's loudly beeping transmitter made it clear to all that the stolen diapers were in the trunk of Cindy's car-- and made it patently clear to Tippi Bjornsen that the jig was well and truly up. Both girls confessed, and much to the delight of a steadily growing crowd of frat boys from the surrounding houses, were cuffed and hauled off to spend the night in a cold and drafty cell. Arraignment, and a pleading before a municipal judge, would come in the morning. Unless Ian could shut it all down first. At the house mother's urging, the Chief set up a temporary command post in her office. From there, with Bernice Miller's approval, he ordered his officers to fan out and thoroughly search the public areas for the stolen diapers. These were quickly located in a corner of the basement, most of them still in their unopened Lullaby Diaper Service bags. Once they were photographed, the substantial hoard of baby and adult diapers were hauled into the dining room, where in due course the sorority would be assembled to confront the stolen fruits of their collective labor. From Ian's point of view, it was fortunate that a time consuming search for accessories to the crime next got under way. The otherwise bored cadre of campus cops (it was a Wednesday night, after all) were tasked to interview each and every one of the sorority house's fifty odd residents, not all of whom happened to be home at the moment. For example, Janis Marsden showed up when the proceedings were barely under way, praying that her heavily diapered state would go unnoticed. In fact, on a night when the campus cops were breaking up a gang of diaper thieves who had been terrorizing the city (tune in to your local news at ten, brought to you by WPPP's very own Lyle Gunderson and Amy Kinkaid), it was Janis' sheer bad luck that a young woman waddling like an overgrown toddler was going to be noticed by everybody. Cracking under the pressure of a roomful of unforgiving stares, Janis had broken down and confessed. Having been placed under arrest for her daring theft of hospital diapers, she was currently being detained in her room. No one had got around to removing her diaper and baby pants, but it had to be done: the hardened criminals with whom Janis would soon be sharing a cell could use such deadly weapons to unleash a murderous rampage. After due consideration, Chief Mischof opted to delegate the task to Officer Canon on the reasonable assumption that she was the only female officer present with a track record of changing wet and possibly poopy adult diapers. This left Bernice, the Chief, Ian and Julia sitting around a coffee table in Bernice's office. For Ian and Julia, the moment was awkward in the extreme. Ian had made love to Julia's daughter mere hours earlier, and hoped to make love to her again before the night was out. What was one supposed to say to the Mom at moments like this? For her part, Julia had absolutely no idea what to say to an undercover government agent whom she suspected was banging her daughter. Wisely, they decided to ignore one another. I'd like to take Priscilla home, but that might be a tad awkward, given that she lives with her parents … I wonder if he speaks Farsi … shipping him off to Iran would at least buy us some breathing space ... I most definitely do not want to take her to one of those seedy motels up the street. Probably half the girls in these houses lost their virginity in those dumps. Wonder if they give a discount to sorority girls scalping members of the faculty … There's got to be something we can arrest him for … is it against the law to change his diapers in a public setting? Oh, damn it, wait … my daughter is the one changing him! “Sorry about all this, Bernice,” Chief Mischof said sympathetically. “If the Dean catches it on the news at ten, your visit to his office tomorrow is going to be pretty awkward. Hope you don't lose your charter.” Bernice shook her head in despair. “I don't understand any of this,” she lamented; “stealing diapers … what is the matter with these girls? I swear, Walt, I've been doing this for twenty-five years, and this is the worst it's ever been. Half these girls shouldn't even be here; they're wasting their time, and their parents money. And speaking of diapers ...” Bernice shifted in her chair. “Professor, are you all right? I mean … do you need your diaper changed?” She didn't know the source of Ian's incontinence, but the bulge in his pants made it clear what he was wearing in the way of underwear. “I'm fine for the moment, but thank you for asking.” Ian decided to seize the moment. “Chief, what comes next? Priscilla … er … Officer Canon tells me that a fine, a hundred hours of community service, and a term of probation are par for the course in matters like this.” “She's right, Professor. The DA will shake his head, ask me why I can't keep the lid on over here, and give them the proverbial slap on the wrist. Gareth has political ambitions, and sending a bunch of sorority girls to the workhouse isn't going to win him any votes in the suburbs.” “Makes sense, but in this case it won't work. The injured party is Spats Belmondo, and he will see a light sentence as a calculated insult to his dignity. If he lets this slide, he'll lose face with his crew, and with the other capi. So, he won't let it slide.” “Professor Grady is right, Chief; when Spats hired me, he made it clear that he wanted to handle this matter without police interference. These girls are in real danger.” “And yet you took the case.” The Chief was frowning. “Why did you do that?” “Professor Grady and I are on the same page here. If Spats had found these girls on his own, he would have fed them into a wood chipper, feet first. We collaborated to bring the police in, which buys us some time. Now, it's up to the DA to come up with a punishment that Spats will be prepared to live with.” “Precisely,” Ian agreed. “Get the DA on the phone, and tell him to haul his ass over here. I'll tell him how we're going to play this.” “How about telling me first.” “Sure. The whole sorority is going to volunteer to work as candy stripers at the hospital, and to keep at it until they graduate. The fine is going to be stiff enough to cause some real pain, and Spats is going to be generously compensated for his time and trouble. But the icing on the cake? Since Zeta Alpha Pi has a hard on for diapers, they can spend the rest of their time here wearing them, and using them. And Lullaby Diaper Service will be supplying them, which guarantees Spats a tidy little profit going forward. He's a businessman, and as such won't be inclined to murder his own customers.” “Interesting. I'll make the call. Not sure the DA will bite, but I'll give it a try.” “Let me deal with him. I can be very persuasive.” Oh, this ought to be good, Julia thought. “Drop my name into the conversation, and suggest that he call your counterpart downtown. What do you think, Julia? Will that do the trick?” “Professor Grady has friends in very high places,” she admitted in the most neutral tone of voice she could muster. “Very high.” “Once he's here?” Ian had a huge grin on his face. “I'll make him an offer that he can't refuse!” . . . . Pulling into her garage, Rita was on a mission. The first order of business was the four remaining breast pumps. One would stay in the trunk to go to the office, and a second would end up in her bedroom. The most fitting home for the remaining two, she decided, was the empty closet in the third bedroom that they were converting into a nursery for Ian and Vickie. She liked the idea of hooking Vickie up when she was lounging in her crib, but when it came to finding a way for their baby girl to pump at work, she was completely stumped. With luck, Sarah would have the answer. Dragging the boxes into the foyer one by one, Rita hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes. She visited her bedroom first, saving the nursery for last. But when she opened its door, she nodded in satisfaction. It was a tight fit, but with the two cribs set back to back in the center of the room, there was just enough space for the changing table on one wall, and the dresser and chest of drawers on the other. It seemed symbolically fitting, almost a sacred ritual given the solemnity of the moment, that Vickie's two breast pumps ended up on the closet floor. Returning to the kitchen, Rita opened her liquor cabinet, choosing to mark the occasion with a glass of Courvoisier, the expensive cognac being her most cherished indulgence. Then she strolled into the living room, studying her walls and thinking about Ian's art work, the boldness of its colors. He must like Vermeer … Looking around her living room, Rita sadly shook her head. The empty walls, the usual furnishings laid out in the usual way-- it was all so dull. As dull as my whole life. Ian? The guy's been everywhere. And me? One trip out of the country, the old 'If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium' tour … nine countries in eighteen days, and I didn't even have an affair with the tour guide. But I did fall in love with Vermeer … there's that. “The Alvar is going directly over the couch,” she said out loud. “All that red ...” She took a sip of her drink. “But on his income, how could he possibly have afforded a Chagall?” She thought that it would look nice in her bedroom. “We definitely are going to need a bigger house! A much bigger nursery … hell, with four of us and the babies … we're going to need bigger everything!” Rita had started to peruse the real estate listings, concentrating on her dream home-- an honest to goodness mansion on the shores of Lake Minnetonka. With their four combined incomes, the only limit to what they could afford was her imagination. . . . . When Sarah finally made it home, she was disappointed to discover that Ian was still not there, but relieved to find Vickie sitting in the middle of the living room floor. She was going to try out her new paddle on Vickie's shapely ass, but with a diaper rash in play, she was afraid that the threatened twenty swats would be way over the top. Ten swats would do nicely. And seeing that Vickie had already stripped down to her blouse and diaper cover, and was sitting with arms outstretched waiting for a hug, she decided to go a bit easier on her rear end than originally planned. “Did you miss your mommy, baby girl,” Sarah cooed. “Mama,” Vickie answered; “binkie, Mama … binkie!” She was pouting like an adorable little toddler. Vickie had spent several minutes in Ian's bathroom, comparing pouts and frowns in front of the mirror. She concluded that pouting, which she had long practiced to good effect with her various boyfriends and one night stands, was her best choice. “Ah, you're so cute,” Sarah oohed and awed as she reached into her pocket; “yes you are, yes you are! Open wide, baby girl … here comes your binkie!” Vickie happily accepted the pacifier, and began enthusiatically sucking … Coat this thing with crème de menthe, and it wouldn't be bad at all. Definitely beats chewing on a pencil … Sarah left the room just long enough to fetch her breast pump, and with it the cane and paddle. Vickie's eyes went wide when she eyeballed Sarah attacking one of the throw cushions on her couch with the cane. “It feels like all it takes is a flick of the wrist,” she muttered, but loud enough for Vickie to hear. SWISH … CRACK!! SWISH … CRACK!! Sitting down in the chair that she had used to punish Ian the night before, she centered the cushion on her lap, raised her new paddle on high, and repeatedly brought it down on the cushion with a resounding … THWACK … THWACK … THWACK … Satisfied with her choice, Sarah stared hard at Vickie, and stabbed her thigh with her middle finger. Vickie obediently crawled over and, using Sarah's legs for support, climbed to her feet. Sarah first unfastened and removed the baby girl's blouse. Taking the key from her pocket, she then reached out to unlock her diaper cover, which she slid down to her ankles. Vickie's pink baby pants came next, and finally her heavy diaper, which was only slightly damp and unfortunately poop free. The laxatives in your breast milk will make you go potty in your diapee, baby girl … hmm … should I add a diuretic as well? Unbidden, Vickie eased herself over Sarah's lap, her legs helplessly pinned by the heavy canvas shackling her ankles. Sarah grasped her baby girl's right hand, and pinned it to the base of her spine, then wrapped her legs tight around Vickie's calves. With her bottom protruding and her body expertly immobilized, Vickie was finally ready for her paddling. Rubbing lazy circles around Vickie's cheeks and lightly slapping her thighs, Sarah took her time with the preliminaries. When she was finally ready, she raised the paddle on high, and brought it down, but not with full force. Thwack … Thwack … Each butt cheek received a measured blow, and then Sarah began Vickie's punishment in earnest. THWACK!! THWACK!! THWACK!! THWACK!! Vickie moaned, then screamed into her pacifier, her body contorting with the pain. Sarah had not spared the skin already red with diaper rash, which was now an ugly, livid crimson shade. Four more strokes, delivered more gently, finished the first part of Vickie's punishment. Now, it was time for her upper thighs to feel the weight of Sarah's palm. Nor did she hold back, one heavy blow after another raining down upon the exposed flesh. Only when she was finished did Sarah release Vickie's imprisoned right arm, so that the wailing toddler could slide off her lap and onto the carpet. Vickie was on the threshold of a massive orgasm, her entire body seemingly on fire. Struggling to her knees, she turned wide eyed to face Sarah, sucking mindlessly on her pacifier, desperate for relief. “Mommy,” she whispered, “make me come … please make me come. Your fingers … anything … make me come!!” Sarah looked down at her baby girl in disbelief, then leaned over to run her fingers between her thighs. Sure enough. She was wet, and when Sarah grazed her clit, Vickie moaned like a wounded animal, a sound born at once of anguish and pleasure. “Please,” she whispered again. “Baby girl,” she said sternly, “I want you to roll over on your back and stretch out. Do it now!” When Vickie obeyed, Sarah grabbed the thick hospital diaper, which she knew could not be defeated by the baby's questing fingers, and slid it under her tortured bottom. Bringing it up between Vickie's legs, she efficiently pinned it back in place before pulling up her baby pants and diaper cover. Vickie offered no resistance, but her body shuddered when she heard the lock click home. In the silence of Sarah's living room, it sounded like a thunderclap. “There,” Sarah said in a soothing voice. “Now, I want you to crawl over to the corner, get up on your knees, and press your nose against the wall. Naughty babies need time outs as well as spankings. Stay there, and don't move while I prepare your ba bas.” Sarah retreated to the bathroom, and found her water pills. Two of these, in bottles already laced with fast acting laxatives, would guarantee Vickie a very wet and very messy night. But Sarah would not be changing her in the morning. She was going to send her naughty little girl straight to Rita's office, and let her do the honors. . . . . When the District Attorney walked through the door with his bodyguard, it was safe to say that Gareth Q. Ballstrom was not a happy camper. He had managed to avoid the local news crews on the way in, but he did not fancy his chances on the way out. He knew a FUBAR when he saw one, and with the next election less than a year away, bad publicity he did not need. The bottom line was that he needed something good to feed the press when he walked out the door. It was hard for Ian to keep a straight face. He put the DA in his late thirties, with a lanky frame and chiseled jaw straight out of central casting. A three hundred dollar haircut, and enough hair gel to keep things under control in a class five hurricane, would go hand and glove with the practiced insincerity of the professional politician's smile. Ignoring the others, the DA marched up to where Ian was sitting. Ian did not bother to get up. “You must be Grady,” he barked. “The Chief tells me that I need to listen to what you have to say. I'm listening.” “Take a seat.” Ian was smiling graciously as he pointed at the lone empty chair in the room. “Chief Mischof will bring you up to speed, then we'll figure out what to do next.” The Chief neatly summarized the crime, the arrests to date, and the recovery of the stolen articles in a public area of the house that they had permission to search. The evidence would be admissible in court, and they had post-Miranda confessions from two of the girls that would also hold up. His officers were currently interviewing everyone else in the house, and in due course would haul them into the dining room for a heart to heart talk about their immediate futures. His immediate objectives were to get permission to search all their rooms, and to gauge who else had been actively engaged in the planning and execution of this conspiracy. “Now let me get this straight,” Ballstrom snorted when the Chief finished his report. “You dragged me over here in the middle of the night because a bunch of sorority girls have been running around town stealing diapers off of people's front porches? What am I supposed to do? Go before the judge in the morning, and urge him to lock up these hard cases and throw away the key? Puh … lese!” “Spats Belmondo.” Julia spoke up for the first time. And I'm ...” “I know who you are, Missus Canon. Your firm handled my sister's divorce two years ago. She was pleased with the results. What's Belmondo got to do with this?” “He owns Lullaby Diaper Service, which is the injured party here. Spats hired me to find the thieves, and then report back to him so that he could handle the matter privately. I'll leave that part of it to your imagination … you know what Spats is like. Anyway, the Professor and I hatched a plan to have the police make the pinch, and it worked. Now, the trick is to find a punishment that will make both Spats and the judge happy. Ian has the solution; your job will be getting the judge to go along. Professor?” Ian took over, but when he got to the part where the girls would be wearing diapers for the rest of their university days, the DA climbed angrily to his feet. “Are you nuts, Grady? How the hell do you expect me to sell this nonsense to the unlucky bastard who draws this case in the morning?” “Well, you could bring a wood chipper into the courtroom and show him exactly how it works,” Ian scoffed. “But it would be easier simply to ask the judge to endorse a plea agreement that the girls will be affirming before they go to bed tonight. The four of us will sell them on the idea, and you sell the judge. Then you can campaign on a law and order platform, get reelected, and we all live happily ever after. Oh, and my friends back East will remember you kindly, if and when you choose to run for higher office.” The DA grinned wolfishly, pleased that the professor had got to the point without too much beating around the bush. “Professor, you've got a deal. The fine and community service is easy, but you have to sell these girls on the diapers or I won't bring it up. If they agree to it, the judge will as well. He's also up for election in the fall.” The two men shook hands, and Ballstrom left to grab some free publicity from the local news hounds. Ian fully expected him to tap into his well honed sense of righteous indignation, and preach the need to bring a little law and order to the notorious denizens of Fraternity Row. . . . . “So, what's going to happen to me?” Janis Marsden was sitting cross-legged on her bed, head bowed, utterly disconsolate. But she was no longer wearing the hospital diaper and vinyl pants; these had been set aside with the diapers in her backpack. “Well,” Priscilla began, “you were apprehended in the possession of stolen property. So, at some point you will be taken downtown and processed. You'll spend the night in a cell, and in the morning you'll be taken before a judge. If you plead not guilty, the prosecuting attorney will request that you make bail, which means that your parents will have to come to terms with a bail bondsman. If you plead guilty and agree to whatever punishment the DA's office seeks, you'll probably avoid a return trip to jail.” “It was all so stupid,” Janis sniffled. She was wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “Janis,” Priscilla cautioned, “although I've read you your rights, I want to remind you that anything you say to me can be admitted into evidence if I'm called to testify. Remember, you don't have to say a word to me, or to anyone else. Just because Cindy and Tippi have already confessed doesn't mean that you have to as well.” “But I want to because … because it was all so stupid … the usual crap that goes on up and down the Row all year long.” “And yet it was very well organized,” Priscilla countered, hinting at the argument the Assistant District Attorney would surely make before the judge. “Methodically researching the diaper service van's stops beforehand … using at least two cars to orchestrate the theft across a series of outings … playing Fox and Hounds with a highly experienced private detective, and getting the best of her.” Priscilla shook her head sorrowfully. “This was a conspiracy, Janis, and you were a participant. Even if you weren't physically stealing the diapers, you were an accessory both before and after the fact. And we haven't even got to the hospital yet … the betrayal of trust. Did you ever stop and think about how disappointed everyone would be with you if you got caught?” “Tippi … Cindy … Melanie … they said that it was just a few lousy diapers, and that if I got caught, I should just say that it was a sorority stunt. They all thought that they'd probably help me carry the diapers out to my car!” “Well, they were wrong, and here we are. So, get a grip on yourself. We're going downstairs to hear what Chief Mischof has to say.” Priscilla made a mental note to track down Melanie. She appeared to be another one of the ringleaders. . . . . “We have fifty two girls in residence,” Bernice summarized. She was looking down at the print out of the roster in her lap. “We had forty seven at dinner, so making allowance for Cindy, Tippi and Janis, nearly a full house. Only two are still out and about.” “Probably scalp hunting,” she muttered under her breath. “And you're sure of the breakdown?” The Chief had asked her to run down the list, and tag the names of those most likely to be involved in the planning and execution of the heist. “Supremely so,” she replied, her eyes flashing. “Walt, in my job you take the measure of your charges, try to figure out which ones are okay and which ones are trouble. Right now, this house is top heavy with Legacies, and they're all sitting on the Council. Cindy is currently the chair, Tippi a mover and shaker, and Janis a go along to get along type. I'm sorry that she's caught up in this. Her mother did not want her to join ZAP, and went along with it only when Janis agreed to do volunteer work at the hospital. Marilyn is going to be furious.” “And you're sure about this Melanie Wilson,” the Chief pressed. “One of Cindy's ladies in waiting? Yes, I'm sure.” “Janis' mother is Marilyn Marsden? Recruitment Services International?” Ian had not been paying much attention to the back and forth between Bernice and the Chief, but his head had snapped up at the mention of Marilyn's name. He vaguely recalled that Janis' name had come up in a passing exchange between Priscilla and Marilyn earlier in the afternoon in his office, but once again his attention had been elsewhere. Between the afterglow of making love to Priscilla, and the upcoming calls with Donnie and Irina, his attention had most definitely been elsewhere. “Yes,” Bernice agreed. “Do you know her?” “She's my agent,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin. “A nice lady … and she's gonna be pissed, if you'll pardon my French.” "It's quite all right, Professor.” Bernice quite liked Ian's down to earth demeanor. “We speak it a lot around here!” “So, you've gone and hired an agent?” Walt was relieved to hear it. “Guess this means that you won't be needing Officer Canon to chaperon you around campus anymore.” Ian stole a sideways glance at Julia. Rapidly running the pros and cons of the opening the Chief had just given him through his mind, he opted to tiptoe through the tulips. “Sorry, Chief, but I'm stealing her from you, at least for a while. I put the arm on a guy at Langley who owes me a favor or two, and Pris is now Quantico bound-- the embassy security training program. Don't know if she'll want to stay with your department when she returns, but the prospect of a substantial raise might influence her decision.” “Well, I'll be damned.” Walt was shaking his head, trying to process what he had just heard. “Quantico, eh? That's quite a feather in her cap. I'll see what I can do.” “Thanks … and sorry, Julia. She's planning to tell you and your husband tonight or tomorrow morning, depending upon when we all get out of here. Please don't spoil the surprise.” “I'll try not to.” Julia nodded her head, thinking it over. She'll be over a thousand miles away, and right now? Maybe that's not such a bad idea. “Here's what I want to do,” the Chief announced. "We'll bring the girls down to the dining room in fours, starting with the ones on Bernice's list that seem least likely to be involved. We'll seat them at the back, and watch their facial reactions when we bring the most likely suspects in. That'll tell us a lot.” The Chief stood up, and headed out the door, leaving the others to follow. But Ian lagged behind. Catching Bernice's eye, he mimicked making a phone call. “Go ahead,” she whispered as she turned to follow Julia to the dining room. . . . . “Getting a lot of calls from this area code, but I don't recognize the number. That you, Street?” “In the flesh. Sorry to disturb you at home.” In reality, Donnie Freeman was saying that he was free to talk, and Ian that he was not under duress. Years earlier, they had devised a series of casual phrases that they could use over the phone, each one of them containing a code word. “Got an interesting one for you. Vincent Belmondo, otherwise known as Spats Belmondo. A local Mafia capo. I'm looking for petals and thorns, not later than tomorrow morning.” “Not a problem. Do we have any interest?” “It's possible we owe the guy a favor. Do you remember Antonio?” “Ah, yes! I thought the name sounded familiar. A distant relative, perhaps?” “Hard to say. Vinnie's niece speaks Italian straight out of the streets of Naples, but Antonio sounded Catania born and bred. But a lot of those families headed north before they came here.” “Interesting. And I've got one for you. From the looks of it, your fiancee is following in her mother's footsteps.” “How so?” “She went shopping earlier today … used a credit card in a sex shop in the northern suburbs. Think she's into edible underwear?” “Donnie, FYI? She wears granny panties. I'm hoping that Vickie will rub off on her, so this might be a good omen.” “The Director's offer still stands: honeymoon for you and your various loves in the Greek isles, all expenses paid. But he wants a blow by blow description of your sex life in return … a morale boost, so to speak, for a joint that's down in the dumps these days.” “Too bad that I don't know any good restaurants in Teheran, but I don't. Sorry.” “Wouldn't dream of asking you for a recommendation, Street. It's not in the cards. Get back to you in the morning. Ciao.” “Ciao,” Ian replied, hanging up the phone with a heavy sigh.

"Let us never speak of that particualr diaper change again," he said. "The colors. I've never seen colors like that in a diaper, and I never want to again," she replied, and shuddered. Her and Jerry was standing outside the bathroom, he still in a t shirt and his now fresh diaper, and her holding her bags. "Oh right!" he said, suddenly remembering that he was suppsoed to be bratting. He sat flat down heavily on the floor. "Babykins, we need to go." He reached his arms up toward her, making grabbing motions. "I can't Mommy! I'm too much of a baby! You have to carry me!" "What!? No, crawl if you want." He made a show of trying to get to all fours, the collapsing on the ground. "I can't Mommy! it's too hard for a bratty little baby who needs to be put in mean daycares like me!" She roled her eyes. "Ohhh you are such a brat!" "I know Mommy! That's why I'm going to the Deliquent Daycare!" He remained lying on the ground with his hands in the air toward her. Mommy dropped her bags, then reached down and grabbed his wrist, then began to drag him accross the floor toward the door. He slumped down as much as he could, turning himself into complete dead weight to her efforts. "You... spoiled... pampered... brat," she strained. "Look mommy! It's like I'm dead! BLLAARRR!" he tilted his head back and stuck his toungue out. "Alright, here," she panted. "Mhmm. Say where are our bags?" "FUCK!" she said, and headed back to get them. "I don't think you are supposed to swear in front of babies! I'm impressionable, what if I say it now and its your fault!" "Then I'll rinse your mouth out with soap!" "That's not fair! It be your fault!" "Life isn't fair! And neither is soap!" As she walked to get the bags, Jerry slowly got back up on all fours. He began to crawl into the next room as quietly as he could. "WHAT?! You can move now! Come back here!" she shouted. "EEEP!" Jerry shouted, and got up and ran back into the kitchen. "NO! HEY! COME BACK!" Mommy shouted as she blocked him off around the table. He tried to dart to the right around it, then switched to the left. "Gotcha!" She shouted as she finally grabbed him by the wrist, and he stopped. "BLARG dead again!" he said, and slumped back down with his toung out. "Oh you. You are going to that daycare whether you like it or not," She began to drag him. "I think technically you are supposed to CARRY babies, not drag them. This feels wrong somehow." "Technically I'm also not supposed to change babies back into their old diapers, but you're verging on that too." "Eeep," he said, and went back to playing dead. They arrived back at the door, and she sat him down, then put his pants and shoes in front of him. She looked at him expetently. "Well?" "Well what?" "We are going out. You need your clothes." He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Oh no Mommy! I'm such a dumb, bratty little adult baby I totally forgot how to get dressed! I think someone needs to do it FOR me!" She looked at him with her hands akimbo. "Alright, I can do that for my baby." She bent over down to his legs. "Huh." He said. That argument was far too easy to win, and he sensed she had something else planned. "First foot!" She said, and he lifted one. She put a sock on it. "Second foot!" She said again, and repeated the processed. "First foot again!" She said. He lifted it, and she attatched a shoe to it. "What?" He said, suprised. "And final foot," She picked up his last foot. "What about pants?" he asked. She tied his shoe laces. "And done!" "OH MY GOD WHAT ABOUT PANTS!?!" he shouted. "What about them? Babies don't need pants, they are fine in just their shirts, shoes, and diapers."

Hey everyone! Sorry for skipping Sunday when I was originally going to put this up but there was just no way I could finish this bit of the story then and get a lick of sleep. I guess things just happen that way sometimes, but I hope at least that everyone had a good St. Patrick’s Day! So, I think it’s pretty fair to say that this will not be my most popular story on here. I’m actually totally okay with that as I’m a little more assured now as a writer on here than I would have been in the past. I have a guess as to why it’s not seeming as popular by far, but considering I have two other of these ‘stuffy’s tale’ stories, I’m just curious why you all think these may be amongst my least popular writings on here. No worries, I will still finish this story out, but I’m just curious about everyone else’s opinion on this matter to see if I may be missing something in my own writing at this point. The other two deal with the creation of the drug FOY, so they’re pretty important to my overall universe at least and I want to do them, but any pointers might help me in these stories and maybe even others I write as well. Also, as this story just doesn’t necessarily seem to be clicking with readers, I’m going to try to write it as fast I can and then post it all at about the same hastened speed. This means that with only likely 8 or 9 chapters after this one, it should be all done relatively soon. Lastly, for those of you reading this one, I’m still trying to determine my next story, so be sure to let me know what you want of the three stories I placed on here to decide from. For those of you who may have missed these options or whatnot, just refer back to chapter 4. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter for those of you reading it! Chapter 5: The Way Forward is as Muddy as the Ground Two days later, I was primed and ready to try again. Unfortunately, yesterday, Pete had included me in the decision of which Little to choose, and while it was a step forward for me, we both chose the wrong Little again for what I needed at this junction. She wasn’t bratty or anything, but her extreme joy over finding a new toy companion sent her into a fitful of giggles… and a bit of a rampage. Of course, she was just frolicking around with me as a partially regressed Little might do, but she ended up knowing a block tower over where one of them hit the building Little on their head. One stern talking to and subsequent timeout later, I was pulled away from her and the day soon ended afterwards. So, today, with two interactions with Littles under my proverbial belt, I felt I was more than ready to get back in this. My confidence was only further bolstered when I found out that Damien was simply alone the day I came up to him because he was just working off a timeout that he had been placed in for extreme roughhousing earlier in the day. Today, I wanted to find a calmer Little and Pete was only so happy to oblige. Pickings were a little slim though after a few of the stuffy-less Littles were out sick today. “Hmmm,” he mused, scanning the crowd before him, “he’s not as calm as you might like normally, but see there?” I nodded as I saw the Little that Pete was pointing to. “That’s Travis. He can be a bit hyper, but he’s definitely better with toys than Damien was. Plus, he’s already a little more regressed, so a new toy, or even stuffy for him, would do him wonders. And, even better, he’s been feeling very down lately and could probably use a friend more than most of the others in this room at least. So… what do you think?” I was still hesitant about the whole hyper business that Pete had mentioned with Travis, but he also seemed shy and lonely right then, so I felt that even my visibly scarred form could be of some comfort to him today. A challenge perhaps, but one that I was up to. “I’m in. I’ll wait until after everyone is distracted during snack time and then I’ll make my move.” Pete nodded, and I waited for my moment. It took a bit longer today to get to snack time due to a few tantrums that occurred with a few of the newbies in the room, but soon, every little was handed a small cup of celery and carrots. Some of the Littles’ caregivers had allowed for dressings and the like, but others were flat-out refused. Again, some Littles threw tantrums because of this, while others just accepted it. Sensing the chaos from one particular Little near the painted barn on the wall, I made my move. Gratefully, it didn’t take long for Travis to notice me after swallowing another carrot stick in his mouth. “Oh, lookie! A new friend!” With the speed and force of a fighter jet, the Little scooped me up and held me high above his head. His eyes immediately began to widen and look on me in a fascination I really hadn’t seen since Charley had first unboxed me so long ago now. Beyond anything else, that feeling of being ‘awed’ felt good again. To my surprise though, Travis actually seemed interested in my scars, rather than horrified or put off by them as others had. I suppose a toy was just a toy to some, but I quickly found out just how different Travis was from the other Littles that had previously held me. To my surprise and elation then, the Little’s eyes grew and his previously melancholy seemed to evaporate in seconds. “Oh! Look at you! You’re just so cool! Lightning bolts and scars even? Oh wow! Were you a vet as well? A service dog maybe? So tough, but now we’re just alike!” I stared back at him in my solid toy form and quickly saw a small scar on his face and I wondered if that was all, but Travis seemed eager to connect with me. As if to confirm this, in seconds, he set me on the floor facing him and pulled aside his romper as best he could. His strength and coordination had clearly taken a hit from his regression regime, but he was able to expose his chest a little and I could see the start of a massive scar. Seeing where it was and the fact that it seemed to continue beyond the fabric he had pulled aside, I knew Travis had been gravely injured at some point a while ago. My sympathies for the Little immediately grew. “It was a big owie, but I got out and then came here for a vacation. A few oopsies later and now my mommy loves me more than anything else in the world! Now, I can do the same for you!” he said excitedly. Finally, I felt that a Little loved me for who I was and not just the shiny flashing my line came with. It still felt weird, but with Travis, I felt I could make it work. For the next hour, Travis and I played excitedly, but like with Damien, Travis then saw the buttons on my underbelly. I panicked as he began to press them, and just like Damien as well, his frustrations soon began to get the better of him. “Work! Work! Work! Come on!” His thick and heavy fingers smashed into my underside repeatedly. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it was decidedly uncomfortable. I didn’t want to break any of the rules of being a toy, but I was getting desperate after a few minutes of him pounding away. I could already see Travis’ frustration mounting, and I knew his disinterest in me was going to take over soon if something else didn’t happen soon. As such, I just hoped I was right, and did the one thing I could. “Aarf! Aarf-arf!” I fake barked out. Travis quickly paused and flipped me back to the right way up and stared intensely at me. I feared and wondered what was going through his head. So, okay, yes, I broke… well, ‘bent’ a few rules, but I had only done it on suggestion from Pete. Damien clearly had issues beyond a broken toy, but his reaction to my busted and technically now-absent features, had been a major red flag going forward with any other Little. I couldn’t very well remove my buttons and remain physically intact around here for long, so we had come up with a backup plan. Toys could only break the ‘no life’ rule if a Little was in terrible, likely life-threatening, danger, or when the action could be passed off as something else. This could vary widely, but anything like the motion being blamed on the wind, random tremors in a table, or something like that would satisfy that caveat. It was inherently a small action, but it could be enough of a doubt in their minds if a living being noticed that they wouldn’t question our true existence after. Keeping all that in mind, when Travis hit my buttons and was quickly getting frustrated from a lack of results, I resorted to my formulated plan B. I was a dog after all, so me barking from him pushing one of my controls wasn’t necessarily out of the question. It was a little wonky as far as the rules went because my buttons did anything but make me bark before, but when Travis only smiled afterward, I knew my ruse had worked. “That’s right, boy! We need to go outside real soon with Miss Tully and the others! She said it was really nice outside when we were doin’ the weather song this mornin’!” The crisis had been averted and I could only subtly sigh with relief under the crook of Travis’ arm right after. Of course, he got a little frustrated once again when it wasn’t quite recess time yet and he had to endure a diaper change, but these weren’t my fault, and in fact, Travis only held me tighter in his frustrations. Like usual around here though, time moved quickly for a nicely distracted Little. Travis was no exception to this. “Recess!” Miss Tully finally announced, Travis practically having glued himself to the nearby window looking outside on the farm side of the Meadows room. “Come on everyone!” She began to clap a bit to ensure she got everyone’s attention. “Outside time class! Just be sure to be careful. It rained last night, and it might be a little muddy in spots.” I could see a few Littles nodding their heads at her subsequent warnings and instructions, but most only charged forward and out the nearby door. To my dismay, Travis was one of them, and when the fresh air greeted us at last, I saw that Miss Tully had vastly undersold the amount of mud that was out here still. Unless one stuck to the playground, they were going to track mud everywhere they went afterwards. Still, our time during recess flew by in a flash, and that was honestly saying something coming from me, but I felt it was almost the most fun I had ever had in my entire existence. Being the hyperactive type though, Travis and I would pretend we were something for five minutes and then quickly flip to something else. In one instance, we started off as a sailor. “Avast! Lookie ahead, Dash!” Travis shouted out to me while still being held by him at the top of the playground. I did but Travis also held me aloft to give me a better view. Travis then leaned in with his ear. “What’s that you say? There be rocks ahead?” He nodded my head. “Shiver me timbers! The sails won’t be able to give us enough wind. We’ll be sure to crash!” In our little game, I panicked at what would happen next, but Travis knew the rules of make-believe better than I did. In a second, he jumped to the side. “There! Now we’re in space! We can just fly around any rocks out there or use our laser guns! Come on, Dash! We need to protect the ship! Our kettle spice has to make it to the colonists! Without it, they’ll get all icky and sick. Come on!” We then climbed even higher on the playground equipment and then to one side where there was just some railing where Travis could just squeeze his legs underneath. He sat me carefully next to him, but I could also see that at least two volunteers were closely monitoring us from down on the ground. Travis was on the brawnier side than a lot of the other Littles here still, but I imagined that the staff probably just had one policy for all Littles here, regardless of size. Vigilance seemed to be their stock and trade. “Pew-pew-pew! Fire the lasers, Dash!” Travis called out from by my side. I imagined it myself, but I also wondered what Travis saw himself with his own imagination. His face was so concentrated. I felt just his eyes alone could shatter anything in his mind or even reality from how hard they were focusing. ‘Wow… talk about commitment… his cheeks are even starting to puff out and… oh…’ While Travis had indeed been focusing with deadly accuracy over destroying the asteroids, and later the alien invaders, the dreaded bubble greens, to anyone who knew, it was obvious what he was doing. As if to confirm even further what I had suspected, Travis slightly bent forward, and a giant wet fart erupted from his backside. Now, whenever someone like Charley ever did that for most of the time that I was with him, a look of sheer revulsion would cross their face… at least for a while that is. My mechanizations worked him down a lot in the end, but while Charley may not have had control, he could still recognize his own bodily functions when they did occur for the longest time. So, while Travis had a clear physical reaction to what had just been deposited in the rear of his diaper, his mental reaction barely registered it beyond the sound he had just made. “Oh! Gross, Dash! We’re not supposed to use the fart cannons! That’s only for the deadly space lizard. Sends ‘em into a frenzy!” Right then, I was very glad there was a stiff breeze going the opposite direction of my nose. Still, time moved on, and things went on like that for a while longer until Travis had utilized every spare inch of the playground in one of his little skits. Others were content to stay on one storyline for all of recess or to just have fun in general, but not Travis. So, like any bored Little without direct Big intervention, he tried to find other things to do, and when his patience ran out with the chalk, his eyes drifted over to the one unused piece of area back here yet; the muddy fields just beyond the mulch of the playset. ‘Don’t… please don’t, Travis…’ But my thoughts were my own. Travis could neither hear them, nor even at that point, likely register them even if he had. He was a determined Little who saw a new land to conquer and to play in. There was no second argument, and the daycare workers and volunteers were too preoccupied by an incident involving a big red ball on the other side of the lot to see what he was up to. So, without a single reservation, Travis hopped over and quickly went feet first into the mud. Well, I will be the first to admit that we did have a lot of fun. Playing dystopian scavenger and then bumbling archeologist was fun and all, but all that ended when Travis harkened back to days of old and began to play soldier. “Incoming!” To my horror, the Little then plummeted themselves to the earth before making an explosion noise nearby. The mud splattered everywhere as he smacked the ground with his body and then his hand to simulate the bomb dropping nearby. The muck below even began to seep onto me, and for half a second, I almost thought that Travis was intentionally pushing me further into the chocolate and tan ooze, but looking more closely, he was just trying to steady himself as his ankles sank further, but still… “Whew… the enemy is getting’ closer every day, Dash. Lucky for my quick reflexes, huh?” Travis asked to me just about as causally as one might as about the weather. I wanted to get out of there so badly, but the odd playful smile plastered over his face, underneath all that mud, strangely made it almost all seem worth it in seconds flat. “I guess the next round of milo is on you tonight! Just be sure to top up my sippy for…” “Travis Reese!” Miss Valerie shouted as she marched over to where we were. Flames were nearly shooting out of her head she was so mad. ‘Uh oh…’ “Yes Miss Valerie?” Travis asked about as innocently as he could, being nearly covered with mud on his front side. “You… I can’t even begin to… I…” she just rolled her eyes as she looked over the Little before her and I quickly knew that she had some speech planned, but it all seemed to vanish in a second. “Ugh! You naughty little thing, you. I can’t stay mad, but also, what you did was very wrong.” “Wrong?” Travis asked, seeming genuinely confused. “What’s wrong about playin’?” Miss Valerie sighed. “Playing is fine, Travis, but you getting into mud isn’t.” She then stuck out her hand to help the mud-caked Little out of the muck. “Now, come on. You need to get… I don’t even know… maybe a run through the hose?” Fully expecting to be clean in seconds, I was shocked when Travis suddenly crossed his arms at her request of him. “No.” Miss Valerie visibly wasn’t expecting it either. “No…? What do you mean, ‘no’?” To my horror, Travis then smacked his foot into the mud and sent it all flying, including a spot that got on Miss Valerie’s almost brand-new shoes. “I said no!” Her mind seemed to be tumbling about over the Little’s recent outburst, but confusion soon turned to anger once more. If he had only gotten out like she had asked, all would have been fine. Instead, Travis probably only just made things worse than they were in the first place. “Travis Reese!” she belted out. ‘Dang it… she’s using her punishment tone now… he’s a goner…’ Everyone here had their own tones and if you listened hard, one could almost predict the workers’ behaviors and Miss Valerie was no exception, but now, that just confirmed my fears over Travis’ soon to be fate. “You get out of that hole this instance, or you’ll be in so much trouble… ugh!” She looked back down at her shoe and even pants that had gotten splattered as well. “Geez! Your mommy will have to buy a new paddle after the time she’s done with you when you get home tonight!” Travis yelped a little bit and without any further prompting, and Miss Valerie, satisfied with his submission to her as a Little would to a Big, turned around and began to lead him to the hose on the side of the building. Right as Miss Valerie turned away though, something happened I didn’t expect by a long shot. The day had been going so well, and I thought I had finally found my Little. Travis was a bit damaged and definitely regressed, but they were all things that seemed to blend in well with my own peculiarities as well. All this felt even more definitive during our playtime, even up to mere minutes ago. So, I think my shock was reasonable when Travis looked down to me with the most hardened and evil looks that I think I had ever seen in my life. In fact, I didn’t even think it was a possible for a Little to ever look at a toy like that. If I could have run away then, I would have. “You! You did this… you… you stupid toy! You got me in trouble!” Without another word, he then picked me up by the neck and with one heave, like some Olympic athlete, he tossed me far and wide and, to my horror, straight into the muck. Not being able to move, I could only watch in horror as my form began to slip into the gooey substance while Travis walked away with Miss Valerie in the lead and none the wiser over what had just transpired. Right then, I felt so betrayed by the Little I had hoped for in all this new mess and my new path of life here. Under Pete, I had chosen Travis, and he might not have been the most ideal Little for me as far as his hyper personality was concerned, but I did feel happy with him. In seconds though, all that had changed. The mud continued to seep around me and take me under. In my panic, I saw that no one had seemed to notice Travis’ tossing of me in here, but at the same time, there were still too many Little floating around nearby to move on my own. So, devoted fully to the code of the toys, I remained still… even as the mud covered my whole body, and then finally, my eyes… Darkness… Nothingness… My doom and my terrible ending to a wasted life… It was over… “Miss Tully! Miss Tully!” a voice suddenly shouted from nearby. ‘That voice… it sounded so familiar… but how?’ I then heard a bunch of hurried footsteps near to where I was still slowly sinking. “What is it? What’s the matter, Georgie?” Miss Tully panickily asked the nearby waiting Little. ‘Wait… Georgie?’ “There’s a stuffy in the mud!” the still oddly familiar sounding Little, Georgie, cried. “He’s sinkin’! Please hurry! He’s gotta be so lonely and scared…” “Oh no!” Miss Tully called out, a legitimate tone of concern in her voice. She was always good like that with the Littles when she wanted to be or when they were good with her. “I’ll get Splash for you honey!” ‘Yep… Splash… Georgie… oh, please, oh please, don’t recognize me Georgie…’ The last thing I needed right then was one of Charley’s and Hop’s old friends seeing I was here right now. “No, no. I got Splash inside,” Georgie corrected Miss Tully. I briefly panicked, thinking she wouldn’t retrieve me now. “Too dangerous out here with all the mud! Dis is someone else! Please, oh please, help him, Miss Tully!” My heart froze, as I didn’t hear anything over the cars rushing by outside from the main road. It was about lunchtime and most workers were probably getting a bite to eat for the day. So, for a few minutes, I was left alone… seemingly forgotten, discarded, and abandoned… once more at this daycare… Then, suddenly, light! Glorious light invaded my eyes and a quick falling away from the ground and the sucking, oozing mud from beneath me. In seconds, I saw a smiling Miss Tully and an overjoyed Georgie. Briefly looking down and to my relief right then, from all the mud, I knew there was no way he could have recognized me as the former stuffy of his best friend. “Okay, Georgie,” Miss Tully started up. “You go on inside. You tell Mrs. Gillies to give you a cookie for lunch. You were a very good boy today for noticing this poor toy out here in the mud.” “Thank you, Miss Tully!” He started to sprint away, but then turned back. “Miss Tully? Is he going to be okay?” Miss Tully sighed and looked down at me, but to my relief once again, she smiled back at the curious Little. “I think so, Georgie. He’s a little rough right now, but I think he wasn’t in there for long. Probably just needs a bath…” And with that, Georgie smiled about as widely as he could and ran back inside for his cookie reward. As for me, I got exactly what Miss Tully had described… a large bubble bath in the back of the daycare. She eventually got one of the volunteers to finish up once she knew I was not permanently damaged and was going to be worth the clean-up, but a bath from anyone was still a welcome moment of my tumultuous day. Soon, after I was drying off nearby, many of the other toys began to surround me, including Pete and Sam. After a little cheering from the other toys and then clearing them away, Pete and Sam guided me back to the maintenance room. “I just don’t get it…” I mused in both happiness and confusion as Sam worked on ensuring I was still in working order, my back split open once more. Pete sighed. “It’s not your fault, Dash… these Littles… once regressed, they get confused. Sometimes, they even get flashes of who they used to be when they get stressed out. Travis was a mean and bitter Little when he first arrived. All this was ‘too degrading’ and things like that. He’s one of the few around here who probably is happier in life with a higher dose of regression, but he’s not the norm…” “I’ll say…” Sam chirped in from my rear once again. “That Little is alone for a reason. Too trained from the military and was a fighter around here with all the other Littles. Sweet thing now, but back then… ouch for anyone who got in his way.” “That’s right,” Pete concurred. “Today, all that happened to you was that you were on the receiving end of being the scapegoat for a regressing mind. I’m sorry that happened, but you handled it very well. A lot of us are impressed… as I’m sure you could tell from before.” “He’s right!” Sam exerted from behind me. “All thanks to me removing your batteries in fact, you didn’t get fried out there in the mud. Now, you actually get to brag to a bunch of toys tonight and take in all that delicious her praise.” “But I didn’t do much…” I quickly protested back. Every toy since I had come out of the wash and later been greeted by anyone else, was almost treating me like a hero. “I just kept Travis company… that’s nothing. It was just… sitting.” “That’s the job,” Pete emphasized. “We’re not there to save a government from collapsing or to take the hill and win the day. We’re there to comfort these Littles in the best ways we can. It can mean a lot to them, but often, that just means being there for them in whatever way they need, and that alone can be the bravest thing we do. It’s definitely not nothing.” “He’s not wrong there,” a voice said from the darkness. All three of us tensed up as Sam had just finished closing me up. Soon though, we all realized it was just Carmen. “You went out there, consequences or not, and put yourself on the line…” Pete exhaled loudly. “Geez, Carmen. A little warning next time…” He then turned back to me. “But regardless, I thought you two could talk. Give you someone whom you actually seemed to connect with before… and who at least wanted to come out of the shadows…” Carmen rolled her eyes at the last comment but nodded to Pete. “Thanks. I think we’ll just talk it out here. Dash might need what I have to say to him tonight more than you two.” Pete nodded and while Sam seemed like he wanted to stay, Pete ushered him out as well. Carmen then turned back to me once they were gone. “He was right, you know. Old feather-brained might be off about some bits and not have the best judgement always, but he was right then. What you did today was a big deal… and everyone else here knows it as well.” “But that’s just it!” I fired back, a little louder than I was anticipating. Noticing Carmen almost jump back, I lowered my voice. “Sorry, but it’s just so weird. I was like… the villain last week. Now, everyone else is treating me like I did the noblest thing ever getting tossed in the mud.” Carmen smiled. “That is a big deal, Dash, but what they’re commending you more on is what came before and after that moment.” I looked at her questioningly. “Well, for starters and the easier one to explain to you, but you stayed still in the muck. You followed our code over your own self-interest. That showed everyone your commitment to this whole ‘new leaf’ bit you have going for you, personality-wise at least.” “Is that not common with toys?” I asked questioningly. I was always taught to uphold that code above all else. Carmen shook her head. “Not with the pits… that’s what we call that area by the way. It’s a no-go zone after it rains, and you shouldn’t have even been out there today in the first place. Toys really shouldn’t go outside unless the playground is completely mud-free. Lost about ten toys there when this place first opened apparently…” “Oh…” It was something I never even had considered, but I thought that might have been my fate as well today, so it made a certain amount of sense to me as well. “And the second thing then?” “Right,” Carmen nodded, the singular line of gold stitching only on her right ear glinting in the lights overhead. “Second, was that you played with Travis.” “And?” Again, I felt that was what I was supposed to do. “Wasn’t that my task?” Carmen waved her hand about. “Eh… only to a certain degree. See, today, you were with a Little in your playtime, but you were only there for him. You didn’t try and regress him or change him… you just kept up with his demands and stuck it out. Before the whole mud disaster with him, his smile was wider than I had seen on him for years. That’s the big deal.” “Oh…” The realizations of the impact of today on my future here were finally hitting me. Today showed that I was serious about my change of path. Today showed that my task here to be one of them was truly possible. “The reaction of the Little is the important part… and I helped him today…” “Yep… now you’re getting it…” She then looked down and oddly almost a little ashamed. “It takes guts here to help these Littles… that’s for sure…” She scoffed. “Its definitely not something that everyone has here…” “Meaning?” I felt fairly certain I knew what she was going to say, but I waited for her to tell me in her own words. Carmen sighed. “I’ve never even attempted to bond with a Little here. Even before…” she then gestured to her body, “I was still scared… I did it because I was a toy… but that was it… I didn’t do it for a Little to help them out. It was just a job to me… but I still got burned in the end…” I hesitated but given my own scars, I had been desperately wanting to ask her about her own since I had met her. In the times since my council meeting decision, I had met with other times as well, but now, I felt I had the most right to ask. So, I did. “If you don’t mind… uh, how did that happen?” I asked, gesturing to her fairly extensive patchwork of stitching and other bits of cloth and fur. Carmen sighed, and for a moment, I felt I had royally screwed up. She proved me otherwise. “I had a Little… before here, I mean… She was a bit regressed… more mental than physical though…” I could already see the emotion welling up inside her. “She forgot me one night out on the lawn… I think she was punished for something stupid… like not calling her caregiver ‘mommy,’ but I was there until the next morning.” She then paused, and while I didn’t want to pressure her for more of her story, I wanted to know more, so I gently pressed… more in support than nagging though. “Go on…” Carmen nodded and recollected herself to continue. “Her daddy was hungover from that night… he usually was, but the next morning, he walked out and began to mow the lawn…” ‘Oh hell…’ She blinked rapidly, almost as if she was feeling the pain from that day, but she just pushed on. “He didn’t realize it until it was too late. He tried to fix me… but my Little rejected my appearance completely… screamed in terror even… So, I came here. No Little since then for me.” It was a lot to take in, but I knew that becoming one of the forgotten toys here rarely came with a heartwarming story. “I’m so sorry, Carmen…” She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s really okay. Happened so long ago, but now… I just wanted to thank you personally tonight…” I arched one of my brows in curiosity. “Oh? What for?” “Well…” she began. “You’ve given me the courage to put myself back out there. Sam did a check on me today right before you and I’m all good to go. I’m going to try tomorrow to find a new Little of my own.” “Oh! That’s wonderful to hear, Carmen!” I was so confused with the emotions I was feeling, but pride and maybe even happiness for my new friends felt like chief amongst them. I knew she wanted it, and I could see the contentment on her face immediately with her new revelation to me. “You’ll do great. I just know it.” If Carmen could blush, I’m pretty sure she would have done it right then, but instead, she just finally managed to stumble out with a simple, “Thanks…” For me though, it was enough. We then departed, and after a few more congratulatory speeches and pats on my back, I made my way over to the Burrows room to sleep for the night. I had a long day, but I still had a few nagging thoughts before I drifted off that I just couldn’t shake… both good and bad. So, while today had been an ultimate failure in finding a new Little to be within the one-week timeline I had been given by the toy council, I also felt that I might have just turned a corner. Other toys were already respecting me more than they ever had before, but even inside, I felt a shift of something. Today, for the first time, a Little had accepted me for who I was in this new form, and I hadn’t used even a lick of regression on him. Then bonus, I even managed to have fun with him afterwards. If this was what I was trying to achieve… I wanted more. Still, I had been tossed aside like garbage into the disgusting muck on the playground in the end, and that repeatedly played in and haunted my mind. It was a major trip-up on my part, and while all the toys had assured me that I had done well, a lingering part of me questioned that as well. Deep down, I even began to wonder if all this was still possible or not for a toy like me. With that on my mind though, as I settled in for the night, I couldn’t help but hear the soft crying of a new Little arrival in the Burrows room. I wasn’t sure who they were, but hearing them in their pitiful state, I knew that there could be far worse fates for anything with a soul in this dimension. I only hoped that like my own misadventures today and yet hopeful future, their life here would improve as well.

I don't understand the confusion about this post. I see Kelly in the same light as I saw the Mom in "All My Mothers Rules". The could have adjacent cells and exchange parenting tips! I think the cop would be sympathetic to Zach's story and call CPS.

Yes, I am assuming so. It feels funny to be excited for all of that again, despite knowing how grueling those days of initial recovery really were. But, eyes on the prize!

Is it possible that Kelly did all this in desperation to have a mother son relationship with Zach? I may not like her methods, but I cannot unsee a frustrated step parent, that just wants to be a part of the family. I would love to see her express Joy and Relief to see Zach safe, followed by a well earned talk and punishment. I see Kelly as a well intentioned individual, who perhaps went a bit to far trying to fit. Though I think ole Zach just lost his big boy pants for a lot longer now lol. (Though I truly hope LS lets him have them back in the end)

Chapter 3 Sarah took a deep breath and approached Kate at recess. "Hey Kate, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to sleep over at my house this weekend? We could make pizzas and watch movies, it would be really fun!" Kate bit her lip, not quite meeting Sarah's hopeful gaze. "Oh, um... I don't think I can this weekend either. I have... another thing with my family. But do you want to sleepover at my house next weekend?" Sarah panicked, not having expected to receive an invitation herself. “Um, I have a thing… with my family. Yeah,” was the best Sarah could manage. Kate looked disappointed. Sarah's heart sank as Kate as the bell rang and they made it back to class. Disappointment and confusion swirled in her chest - why did Kate keep turning her down? Was it something Sarah had done? And what would she think of her refusal? At home that afternoon, Sarah flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh as her mom walked in. "Kate said no to the sleepover again. I don't understand, Mom. Does she not want to be my friend anymore? She asked me if I wanted to sleepover at her house but I don’t want her to find out about my diapers." Her mom sat beside her, rubbing soothing circles on Sarah's back. "Oh honey, I'm sure that's not it. Sometimes people have their own reasons for things that we can't see." Sarah leaned into her mom's comforting touch, blinking back frustrated tears. Her mom was quiet for a moment, considering. "You know, I might have an idea for how we could make a sleepover work at her house, if you're open to it." Sarah looked up, curiosity piqued. "What is it?" "Well, what if I came over to Kate's house in the evening to help you with your 'medication'? Maybe you ‘forgot’ to bring it. That way I could discreetly diaper you for the night someplace private. And then in the morning, you could slip into the bathroom first thing to take it off and dispose of it before Kate even wakes up. You can put it in some plastic bags in your backpack so you can throw it out here. No one will know." Sarah wrinkled her nose, uncertain. "I don't know, Mom. It seems really risky. What if Kate or her mom finds out?" "I understand it feels scary," her mom soothed. "But we could practice beforehand to make sure you feel comfortable and confident. Want to try a couple dry runs this afternoon, to see how it would work?" Sarah hesitated, then nodded slowly. If it meant a chance at a real sleepover with Kate, maybe it was worth a shot. That afternoon, Sarah and her mom set up a mock sleepover scenario in the living room. Sarah's mom had her lie down on a towel for the diaper change. "Okay sweetie, I'm going to diaper you now, just like I would if we were at the sleepover," her mom narrated gently, unfolding one of the thick, crinkly diapers. Sarah blushed but nodded, trying to quell her nerves. She lifted her hips as her mom slid the diaper beneath her, the rustling loud in the quiet room, brought up the front of the diaper up snugly and fastened the tapes securely. "There we go, all set," her mom said, helping Sarah sit up. "Now let's get your pajamas on over it." Sarah had chosen her baggiest pajama pants and a long, oversized t-shirt, hoping they would help conceal the bulky diaper. She wiggled into them, relieved to find that the diaper was barely noticeable underneath the loose fabric. "Okay, looking good," her mom approved. "In the morning, you'll want to wake up before Kate to take the diaper off. Roll it up tightly and slip it into a plastic bag, then you can discreetly put that bag inside your backpack to throw away later." Sarah nodded, trying to commit the steps to memory. They practiced the full routine a couple more times, with Sarah setting a quiet alarm for the morning, tiptoeing to the bathroom, carefully removing and rolling up the diaper, and sliding the plastic bag into her backpack. By the third practice run, the process felt a bit more familiar, even if Sarah's cheeks still flushed with embarrassment each time. Her mom's calm, matter-of-fact demeanor helped somewhat, making it feel more like a medical necessity than a shameful secret. Sarah's mom gave her an encouraging smile as she taped up the diaper for the final practice run. "You're doing great, sweetie. I have an idea - why don't you keep your diaper and pajamas on for a little longer? That way you can make sure the diaper stays well-hidden under your clothes, just like it will need to at the sleepover." Sarah shifted uncertainly, the diaper feeling bulky between her legs. "I guess that makes sense," she agreed hesitantly. She didn’t want to keep the diaper on, but her mom had a good point about getting used to it for the sleepover. Her mom nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "And you know, it might be a good idea to practice with a wet diaper too, since that's what will happen at the sleepover in the morning. That way you can get a feel for how to handle it discreetly in the morning." Sarah's cheeks flushed at the suggestion, an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach. "You mean... pee in the diaper? On purpose?" Her mom gave a sympathetic nod. "I know it feels strange, honey. But it's better to practice in a safe, controlled environment than to be caught off guard at Kate's house with a wet diaper in the morning. This way you can troubleshoot any issues and build your confidence." Sarah bit her lip, considering. The idea made her squirm with embarrassment, but she had to admit her mom had a point. Better to confront the awkwardness now than in the middle of a sleepover. "Okay," she finally agreed, her voice small. "I'll try it." Her mom squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Brave girl. Remember, this is just practice. It doesn't define you." Sarah took a shaky breath and nodded, trying to absorb her mom's words. She stood up carefully, acutely aware of the diaper's bulk beneath her loose pajama pants and baggy t-shirt. "Why don't you go about your normal afternoon routine," her mom suggested. "Do some homework, watch a little TV, whatever you'd like. Just keep the diaper on and let yourself use it when you need to. We can reconvene before dinner to see how it went." Sarah agreed, her stomach fluttering with nerves. She made her way to her bedroom, each crinkly step a reminder of the challenge ahead. After several minutes of trying to focus on her homework while acutely aware of the diaper's presence, Sarah felt her bladder twinge insistently. She took a deep breath, then hesitantly relaxed, feeling an odd mix of relief and embarrassment as a warm gush of urine flooded into the waiting diaper. The thick padding quickly absorbed the liquid, swelling noticeably between her legs. Sarah gingerly stood up from her desk chair. The soggy bulk felt awkward and uncomfortable as she shuffled out to find her mom. "Mom?" she called softly, her voice wavering. "I, um... I wet the diaper." Her mom looked up from her book, giving Sarah an encouraging smile. "Okay, sweetie. How do you feel? Let's talk through the steps of changing out of it, like you'll need to do discreetly at Kate's." Sarah nodded, her face still flushed with embarrassment. She carefully made her way to the bathroom, the saturated diaper sagging heavily with each step. Once inside, she hesitated, unsure where to start. Her mom noticed her uncertainty and guided gently, "First, take off your pajama pants." Sarah followed the instructions, gingerly tugging her loose pj bottoms over the bulky diaper and setting them aside. She stood in her baggy nightshirt, the wet diaper now clearly visible. "Good," her mom encouraged. "Now, unfasten the diaper tapes and slowly remove the diaper." With shaking fingers, Sarah peeled open the tapes, the cool air hitting her damp skin. Gingerly, she slid the sodden diaper down her legs, face scrunched in distaste at the sensation. "Okay, now fold the diaper up carefully and wrap it tightly in one of these plastic bags to contain any leaks," her mom instructed, handing Sarah a small stack of disposable diaper sacks. Sarah did as she was told, wrinkling her nose as she wrapped the diaper into a compact plastic bundle. "Excellent," her mom praised. "Now give yourself a quick wipe-down with a wipe before putting on your underwear." Blushing furiously, Sarah cleaned herself up and quickly tugged on a clean pair of panties, feeling an odd mix of relief and residual embarrassment. Her mom smiled at her warmly. "You did great, honey. I know it feels strange and uncomfortable, but you're handling it with a lot of maturity. The more you practice these steps, the more confident and discreet you'll be able to be at the actual sleepover." Sarah nodded, trying to absorb the praise over the swirling of her chaotic emotions. Her mom hesitated, then added gently, "In fact, it might be a good idea to try another practice run, just to really solidify the process. What do you think about trying again with a fresh diaper, to simulate the full sleepover experience?" Sarah's stomach swooped at the suggestion, her cheeks flaming anew. But beneath the knee-jerk embarrassment, a flicker of pragmatism glowed. Her mom was right - the more she practiced, the less daunting it would feel at Kate's house. "Okay," she finally agreed, her voice small but determined. "Let's do it." With an encouraging nod, her mom retrieved a clean diaper. Sarah laid down on her bed, heart thumping as her mom gently slid the thick padding beneath her bottom. The front of the diaper was pulled up snugly between her legs and the tapes fastened securely, leaving Sarah once again diapered and blushing. "There we go," her mom said softly, helping Sarah back into her loose pajama pants. "Remember, this is just practice. It doesn't define you. You're still my brave, brilliant girl, no matter what." Sarah leaned into her mom's reassuring embrace, drawing strength from her unwavering support. The diaper crinkled quietly as she shifted, a tangible reminder of the challenge ahead. But beneath the nerves and embarrassment, a fragile determination was taking root. With enough practice and her mom's steadfast guidance, maybe, just maybe, she could handle this.

LOL so he can just repeat the process? Maybe, though I think we all know where he belongs. But either way, no spoilers, final section is up so you can see what happens for real Three months had passed. Ryan looked out the window at the rising towers beyond. He breathed in fresh air, and sighed, smiling. He turned back into the massive condo. His pink skirts swirled as he walked through the house, making sure every inch of it was clean before Mommy got home. She would be there soon, probably with a friend, and he wanted to make sure it was perfect. He checked the curried meat in the slow cooker. He had become a much better cook since he had moved in- the state of his butt often depended on if his Mommy liked what he cooked. An alarm went off, marking the end of his free day. He grabbed his paddle and leash from where he kept them in the living room, walked to the front door, and knelt. As he had done dozens of times, he attached the leash to the collar he now permanently wore, and held the handle, along with his collar, in his upturned hands. He bent over. He checked his outfit. As a rule, his diaper should always be exposed. Today he was wearing triple layered bunny hops, covered by locking plastic pants he never held the key to. He had already filled them several times that day, and hoped that would make his Mommy happy. He waited. From that point on, it could be minutes, or hours, until she was home. His job was to remain perfectly still regardless, and a monitoring camera ensured he obeyed. As long as he never heard otherwise, this is how he spent the time from four PM until whenever she got home. Fortunately, it wasn't long until he heard footsteps. There were two of them, and from the weight he guessed the other was male. That told him Mommy had taken home one of her boyfriends. Depending on how the night went, he may be asked to join, perhaps help the man, or he might be left locked up in his cage, merely witnessing it as he struggled, helpless, with no relief. He hoped for the first- it gave him the best chance of reward. The door opened, and his Mommy walked in. She bent and took the leash and paddle from his hand. She put a foot under his mouth, and he kissed it. She moved aside, and another larger foot came under, which he kissed too. "Knees," she commanded. He snapped up into position. This position, also called "position 2", was normally what came next. It had him kneeling regularly, back straight, and hands on his lap. Mommy walked round to his back, and lifted his skirt. She tsked. "That is one poopy pamper, Diaper Girl," she said the name that now came to him as if capitalized, the name printed on his collar, the name he was most willing to respond to. "Pathetic. A 25 year old man in a dirty diaper. Lets decide if you've earned a change." "Yes mommy," he said. "Eyes," she said. He looked up at her. This was the first time since she came in that he saw her face, as well as the man beside her. He had seen him a few times, though he didn't know his name. The man in question liked proving he was dominant over Ryan, and Ryan had no issues accepting that role. However, the ways he did it could get rough, and Ryan gulped, thinking about what kind of night he was in for. Mommy reached down and cupped his face. "Alright then Diaper Girl. We are going to look around the house, and see if you made any mistakes or left any chores undone. Then, we will see the dinner you cooked us, and decide if we like it, or if its going in your pampers too. What we decide will determine if we punish you, and if we change you." "Then tonight, we will have some fun. You will eat early in your high chair, then take your normal place waiting on us. After that, Mommy's boyfriend has some things he wants you to do to help him get ready to please Mommy, and you will watch from your cage as we go about it. If, and I mean IF, you do everything perfectly, we might reward you tonight. Alright? Ryan nodded eagerly. "Good boy. Position 1." He put his head down, prone and bowing. "Position 2." He knelt back up as he was. She laughed. "Position 3." He lay back ward and lifted his legs in the air, then grabbed at his ankles. This was something his Mommy had shown him, and he had learned from yoga. It was called "baby pose." Aside from being a stretch, it left him particularly venerable, and always made him blush. When Mommy sometimes tied his wrists to his ankles in it, he became as helpless as he looked. "Hmmm," she said. "Diaper position." He switched his hands to his knees and held his knees to his chest. This was used for spankings, changes, or just to make him feel more helpless. She shook her head. "No, position 3." He switched back, and she nodded. "Good boy. That will do." She knelt down in front of him, and put a hand on his now exposed diaper. She rubbed the mess into him, and he moaned as her hand went back and forth. She took the pacifier from the string on his chest and put it in his mouth, then returned to rubbing his diaper. "Now, you will stay like this until we return, understand?" she said, and pressed hard on his diaper. She returned to her teasing, cooing voice, the same tone that had driven him mad on the first night. He nodded. "Good boy. I hope for your sake you did your chores and can have fun tonight, or you will have to stay in your dirty diapers allll night," she said. He nodded again. She stood up. "Good boy. Just stay like that stinky pants, Mommy doesn't want your smell following us around." He nodded agreement, and watched them leave. No matter what the result from their inspection was, he couldn't wait. If they came back to spank him, keep him in his dirty diapers, and lock him up for the night, he knew he'd spend the night panting and loving every sensation. If they came back to praise him, change him and let him join in their games, then it was even better. He lay back and sighed. He didn't know if there was a more perfect life for him.

He groaned, but bit his lip again and held back his smile. He crossed his legs, then bent down to grab his ankles. A slight crunching sound reminded him of the other humiliating instruction he had been given for that morning. He smiled more, both at the humiliation and the knowledge Edward could make him do something so embarrassing. Also, it meant he may have a bit of extra protection for his punishment. He held his breath as Edward walked behind him. He felt Edward put a hand on Kaden's back. His other rested lightly on his bottom, and he felt Edward rubbing it up and down. Edward loved to grope him before his punishments, and Kaden loved knowing how he was being taken advantage of. WHACK! The first smack always took his breath away. No matter how many times it happened, it always came as a shock that he, a grown man, was being spanked as punishment. WHACK! The second one made him gasp, and he felt Edward rub him again. WHACK WHACK WHACK! Kaden closed his eyes and groaned. Edward was an expert and delivering his spankings on Kaden. They always started slowly, giving him time to realize what he was in for. Then, just as the knowledge really settled, Edward went full force. The blows got harder and faster as they went on. Kaden began grunting with each spank, then shouting, and was finally crying out loud as the blows rained down. Still, he held onto his ankles, and refused to move. Finally they stopped, and Kaden breathed out heavily. Edward rubbed his throbbing backside, enjoying the feeling of it. Kaden was confused. He hadn't been counting, but it seemed fewer spanks then he had expected. "Stand," Edward said, and Kenyan obeyed. Edward smiled at him. "Good boy. You took your spanking well. Now, I think I could tell from the feeling there that you obeyed my other order well." He bit his lip. "Yes sir." "Good boy. But let's check to be sure, shall we?" He reached into his pocket and dug out a key. "Put your hands on your head." Kaden placed both his hands on his head. He watched as Edward leaned down and unlocked the buckle on his pants. He pulled them down, revealing the thick, white diaper he had been ordered to wear. Kaden had never seen the kind before they arrived at his door, or even considered that they might exist. They were printed with baby blue band across the top with teddy bears dancing along them. He only then realized that they matched his suit and tie, and blushed at the knowledge that meant he probably wasn't going to be getting his pants back soon. He blushed at the thought of spending the day wearing a fine suit on his top half, but only a printed diaper on the bottom. The garment was humiliating enough on its own, the contrast made it even worse, as if his attempts at fine dressing was just a silly game. Edward was rubbing his hands around it, moving from groping his backside and his groin through the plastic material. Kenyan moaned and let his mouth hang open in pleasure. "Hmm. They look nice on you, very fitting. I think I'll put you in them again," Edward said with his eyes down at the diaper, and Kenyan shuddered at the thought. Edward then looked up and leaned in close to Kaden's face. "Did you follow my other orders Kaden, about breakfast?" "Yes sir," he moaned. "And what were they?" Kaden shuddered. He had a guess of why this order had been given, and was nervous to see if he was right. "That for breakfast I was to have three eggs, a bran muffin, an apple, some porridge, and a glass of prune juice, then coffee and water." "Did you eat it all?" "Yes sir." The meal had been far larger then he was used to, and far more then Edward normally told him to eat. It had more then upset his stomach, and he had been cramping and groaning by the end. "And did you follow my final instruction? What was it again" He shuddered again. This was more toward what he thought. "Yes sir." He sighed, afraid to admit it. "That between waking up and meeting you, I wasn't to go to the bathroom except to shower and wash my hands." The orders followed Edward's knack for pointlessly specific orders, except that, as was sometimes the case, Kaden worried there was a hidden reason behind them after all. His being ordered to wear a diaper, then being ordered to over eat and drink but not use the bathroom left him with only one idea of what he was going to end up doing.

Academy II By Personalias "At the end of the world, there will be neither clamor nor calamity, neither echo nor epoch. It will be mired in silence and sleep, in deliverance and death. At the end of the world, there will be both patience and purpose, both temperance and time. Only then will it be graced with eternity, and from eternity, a chance." -The Source, in valediction Chapter 1: 90 Days The world was perfect. Things like poverty, crime, disease, starvation, war, pollution, homelessness, and politics had been relegated to the history books. Slight Correction: The world was almost perfect. After today it would be perfect. After today, Ai Sinclair would be out of diapers again. Then, the world would be perfect. Ai sat on the bus on her way to work, her long flowing skirt hanging placidly down to her shins. Her sensible, navy blue skirt, matching flats and plain white blouse showed her to be the smart, talented, young professional she knew she was. The indigo colored broach around her neck added a touch of flair and sophistication, as did the knitting needles she used to keep her hair up in a bun. Only the dreaded garment she was sitting in betrayed her imperfection. Beside her on the next seat over was her black leather satchel bag (she refused to call it a diaper bag). It had just enough of the folded plain white rectangles to get her through the day. After today, she fully intended to hide it away in the back of a closet somewhere until she forgot about it. In ages past, before Ai was born, someone might have tossed the damn thing out or donated it to charity. Charities were obsolete, and throwing away a perfectly good bag might be grounds enough to extend her sentence. That meant more time before she could get married, more teasing from her co-workers, and more diapers. Ai wasn’t about to stumble when she was so close to the finish line. Nervously, Ai rolled up her sleeve and stared at the glowing dot on her wrist right beneath her palm. The one that marked her as Pink. For as long as that dot was lit up, the medical nanites in her bloodstream made it so she had no bladder control. She couldn’t remember if they affected the muscles in her body or if they somehow dimmed some small part of her brain that controlled the sphincter muscles of her bladder. Maybe both? It was the sort of thing she wished she’d paid more attention to back in middle school. In the grand scheme of things, the ‘how’ didn’t matter, only the ‘when’. It had been determined that Ai was too stressed and needed to take a break, and so for the last eighty-nine days, the only time Ai Sinclair realized that she’d needed to pee was when she felt the padding beneath her grow warm and squishy. Today was day ninety; the last day of her sentence. PING! The young woman’s eye twitched and she dug her phone out of the satchel bag’s side pocket. On it was a message: Hello, Ai. Your heart rate has accelerated and I have detected an increase in cortisol in your bloodstream. Are you feeling alright? Anxious? I can adjust your mood nanites to increase your comfort. Reading that message had anything but a calming effect on Ai. Thinking quickly, Ai tapped back: No thank you, Luna. I’m just very excited to be going back to big girl panties at the end of the day. I appreciate your concern, but help is not needed at this time. Dancing bubbles appeared underneath Ai’s message. It was an affectation, of course. Luna was capable of carrying on conversations with over seven billion people at once without missing a step. The artificial intelligence had formulated its response the nanosecond Ai had pressed ‘Send’. Hidden cameras on the bus were likely observing her initial reply as she typed it. But the little waves of ellipses gave the illusion that Ai was communicating with a person on her level instead of a supercomputer that was smarter than every human that ever lived combined. The message came back: There’s nothing wrong with being a Pink, Ai. I hope you know that. These past ninety days were meant as a way to help you reset, refocus, and recontextualize your work-life balance as well as your personal relationships. Luna had a passive aggressive streak an equator wide. It had started out as a personal assistant application; something to be downloaded to a phone. Despite its evolution, Ai sometimes got the feeling that Luna resented its origins and held it against people. Ai replied immediately: I completely agree, Luna. There’s also nothing wrong with taking pride in one’s accomplishments and how far one has come. I am simply feeling the thrill of anticipation as I re-progress in my personal journey. The bubbles danced for only a second: That’s completely valid. My apologies, Ai. Ai’s thumbs did a tarantella: Nothing to apologize for. Would you please pick out some music for me to listen to? Something to help me harness my energy and keep the positive vibes going? The reply was immediate. No waves of dots whatsoever: Of course. Let me know if there’s any other way I can be of service. Enjoy your last day. The earbuds Ai kept in the side pocket with her phone started playing something. She dug them out, inserted them, and couldn’t help smiling. “Like the legend of the phoenix All ends with beginnings What keeps the planet spinning The force of love beginning” Damn, Luna was good at her job. Ai had loved this song ever since she was a little girl. It always put her in a good mood. At the core of its programming, Luna was still a servant. The only problem was that Luna was determined to serve and fix everything at all times. And when a superintelligent near omnipotent digital god-being decides to look for a problem, it will inevitably find one, even if said problem needs to be manufactured. That’s how Ai ended up like this. She’d been too stressed, too focused, and too ambitious to the point of accidental self-harm. She’d been losing sleep, blowing off social engagements, getting in more fights with her fiancé over every little thing, eating too poorly, and generally not taking care of herself. And when people stopped taking proper care of themselves, Luna tended to intervene. Diapers and temporary incontinence were Luna’s preferred form of self-correction. It had forced Ai to be more aware of her surroundings and her personal needs. It humbled her and made her more mindful of her diet. It was a pain monitoring for leaks and having to coordinate bowel movements with how wet she was - the diapers provided were always the tape on kind - but overall it had been good for her, according to Luna. The diapers also served as a kind of warning. Luna only allowed someone as much independence as they could safely manage on their own. Those who couldn’t handle the rigors of everyday life were aggressively supported. Over her music, Ai heard a panicked outcry. “Luna! No! Please!” Ai’s head turned with the other riders towards the back of the bus. A fair-skinned man in need of a shave leapt out of his seat, eyes wide in panic. Ai followed his gaze down to the front of his jeans where an even darker patch was blossoming; his bladder releasing its contents involuntarily. “We've come too far to give up who we are So let's raise the bar and our cups to the stars” The man’s phone tumbled out of his hand and into the puddle forming at his feet. He looked at his wrist in abject horror, clamping down on it as if to staunch the bleeding. Ai didn’t need to hear the mocking giggles to notice the facial expressions and body language of the other passengers. Bemused looks, cruel smiles, heads shaking in condescension and finger pointing abounded all around her. A giant, practically celebratory chorus of “BABY!” erupted so loudly that even the music couldn’t drown it out. Ai scooted an inch away from her satchel bag. It was only an inch, but that was as far away as she could manage without pressing her face up against the window glass. Amidst the cheering and jeering at the slacker’s misfortune, the bus crawled to a halt. The doors opened with a hiss. Looking at her window, Ai could tell they weren’t at an official stop. That meant Luna had likely asked the driver to pull over. It could do that. Luna could speak to anyone through almost any electronic device. Methods and mediums of communication were more a matter of individual privacy and location and not limitations of software or technology. From where she sat near the front, Ai immediately understood why the bus had pulled over. A woman in rose colored scrubs decorated with drawings of safety pins, baby rattles, and storks ascended the steps. Slung over her shoulder was a large baby blue diaper bag of the same approximate dimensions as Ai’s satchel. Ai removed an earbud and sucked on her teeth. “Hello Georgie,” the Carer said. “My name’s Nicole. Looks like you had a little accident. Let’s get you sorted out, okay?” The man who’d just wet his pants took his hand off his wrist and visibly choked back a sob. “Two?” he asked, “Why two?” The Carer stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she shushed him. “It’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She was gently guiding him backwards. Behind him, people were getting out of the way and making room. “But-!” “I understand you’re upset,” the Carer said, “but let’s not make a scene, okay?” From the diaper bag she pulled out a changing mat and laid it across the now empty row of seats in the back that ran side to side; an impromptu changing table. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in a nice dry diaper, and then we’ll have a little chat, okay?” “But my wor-” “Shhhhh….” Ultimately the man laid down and the Carer started taking off his pants, cooing and fussing over him as if he were a fussy toddler. Along with the diaper, this one decorated in colorful cartoon characters, the Carer produced a plain white towel. Another passenger volunteered to take it and started mopping up the pee. Only then did the bus begin to move again. Ai turned around in her seat, her neck akin to an owl, her eyes zeroing in on the humiliated man’s wrist. Sure enough, as advertised, not one but two glowing rose dots shined under his skin, advertising his reduced status to the world in a more absolute and immutable way than a diaper and a onesie ever would. Two dots? What could he have done that would have rushed him straight to two dots? The young woman’s eyes wandered over to the blue diaper bag with the same morbid fascination people used to look at car crashes. Stitched into the broad side of the diaper bag with a darker thread of blue was a name. “GEORGIE”. Ai’s mouth went dry and her stomach twisted itself into knots. The old song in her earbud ended and was replaced by a soft, calm, feminine voice that sounded almost human. Almost. “Don’t worry, Ai. I did not send this Carer here for you. You have given me no reason to believe you require this level of care in your daily life. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made.” Ai nodded her head calmly, afraid to respond verbally lest one of the other passengers suspect what Luna was talking to her about. Despite Luna’s assurances that her time was almost up, it was no small relief to Ai when her stop came and she got off the bus and away from the blubbering newly minted man-child and his new Carer. She clutched her satchel bag, and did her best to keep her composure as she trotted on the sidewalk. Just a few blocks and she could sit down at her cubicle and she could let the day blur by until its completion. She was so going out for margaritas later tonight. Near the home stretch to her work, another Carer passed by pushing a stroller. Its occupant, a black woman, sucked on a bottle of orange juice. Her diaper was on full display and squishing against the straps; the blueberry party dress too short to hide any hint of modesty. Level two Pinks didn’t need modesty. They couldn’t handle it. Ai and the girl in the stroller briefly locked eyes. The girl in the stroller had the wherewithal to look away in embarrassment. One dot was a warning that one needed to re-evaluate their life. Anything more was basically a proclamation of failure. Maybe the girl could work her way back up the ladder like Ai was about to. Maybe. Lots of influencers, entrepreneurs, and celebrities had been on record that they needed extra Caring before they got themselves together and hit it big. But some people, so Ai had been taught, just didn’t want to get themselves together. That’s where Luna and her Carers came in. Ai opened the door to her work and slipped in as quietly as she could. Marjorie at the front desk didn’t pick her head up. “There she is,” the older woman said good naturedly. “Right on time, as always.” “How did you know it was me?” Ai asked. Marjorie tapped her ear and smiled. “Who else around here crinkles whenever they take a step?” “Oh…” Ai felt her face heat up. Over the last ninety days, she’d learned to almost completely ignore the sound her diapers made with every movement and shift she made. Almost. Marjorie’s smile turned sympathetic. “Get ready to get razzed today,” she warned. “Everybody’s gonna get one last shot in before you’re back to normal tomorrow.” Her first week as a Pink had been filled with teasing and terrible jokes from her coworkers. Pacifiers had been left in her desk drawer. Her coffee mug had been hidden and replaced with a cheap plastic baby bottle. Someone had left one of those jingling wrist rattles with a note that read “To cover your dot”. People had said ‘Hey baby’ in a way that wasn’t hitting on her. But after a few days (and perhaps some discreet warnings from Luna about going too far), the jokes had gotten old and the office gossip turned inevitably to other matters. “Let them have their laughs,” Ai replied. “I sort of have it coming.” It was a lie that Ai didn’t realize she’d told until after she’d uttered it. Marjorie shrugged her big heavy shoulders. “It is what it is. Plenty of people get Pinked. It’s nothing to get worked up over.” “Yeah,” Ai lied again. “I’m just glad that it’s almost over.” On that she was truly sincere. “The janitors are too,” Marjorie chuckled. “Hank is getting tired of emptying the trash can in the ladies' room.” Ai’s ears lit on fire. “Sorry.” That was the truth, too. “It’s his job, and Hank bitches about everything. Do what you gotta do, lady.” The smaller of the two women shifted nervously. Her satchel suddenly became an albatross. “Speaking of which, I need to powder my nose. ‘Scuse me!” She shuffled off past her coworker and slid into the single stall women’s restroom. “Damn,” she hissed. “Why’d I say ‘powder’?” As had become routine, Ai locked the door and dug everything out of her bag before proceeding. Wipes. Powder. Diaper. She hiked her skirt all the way down to her ankles and ripped off the tapes as fast as she could. She wiped herself all over, careful not to miss a spot; grateful that she wouldn’t have to religiously shave down there after today. She tossed the used wipes into the open soiled diaper at her feet, balled it up, and tossed the wretched thing away. For her own ego and peace of mind, she sat on the toilet and counted to a hundred, just in case. A sliver of a smirk jerked at the corners of her mouth when she heard the sound of liquid hitting liquid. Good timing felt like victory some days. An extra wiping and a triumphant flush later, and Ai was almost good to go. Finally, she opened the fresh diaper, sprinkled baby powder inside it and taped it on herself while standing up. Originally, she hadn’t been very good at this. She’d leaked unnecessarily more than once due to poor positioning and not getting the tapes right. It’s amazing how good someone can get at something when they aren’t given a choice. After she hiked her skirt back up and smoothed it back out, she realized how nice it would be to be able to wear pants again. The last three months had forced her wardrobe to be considerably baggier. Not so deep down, Ai couldn’t stand the sight of her diapers and even a hint of bulk between the legs or a slip of a waistband was mortifying to her. If not for the necessities of bathing and changing, Ai might have forgotten what the shape of her legs looked like. She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and took a deep breath. She peeked into her satchel bag and counted the remaining diapers. The last she would ever have to wear. “One down,” she whispered. “Two to go.” ******************************************************************************************************** Late that afternoon, an email popped up across Ai’s computer screen. Dear Ai, Congratulations on making it 90 days. I’m very proud of how far you’ve come in such a short time. I believe Mr. Grant wishes to speak with you as well. Love always, Luna Ai stood up from her desk and felt the weight around her waist shift with gravity. She looked down at her satchel bag and bit her lip, nervously. She could really use a change just then. That and she had only one diaper left. Plus lunch was finally catching up to her. She decided against it, however. Best not to keep the boss waiting. That and she could use needing to change as an excuse if a hasty exit was required. It was a small benefit to her status, one she’d be glad to be rid of, but she might as well use it one last time. She opted to leave her bag where it lay and go see what Mr. Grant wanted. “Please, Ms. Sinclair,” Mr. Grant gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.” Ai obliged him and took a seat. The chairs were cushy and comfortable, but also low to the ground. Anyone sitting in them would feel even smaller sitting across from Mr. Grant’s giant oak desk. “What can I do for you, sir?” Ai asked, professionally and politely. “I just wanted to take a moment to thank you,” Mr. Grant said. “Not many Pinks handle their situation as gracefully as you have.” Ai kept her hands neatly folded in her lap. “Thank you very much, Mr. Grant. I hope I haven’t been too much of an inconvenience to you.” “Not at all,” her boss waved off the apology. “We’re here to support you to help you be the best you can be. You’ve been a model team member and I’ve been happy to accommodate you and will continue to accommodate you as long as you need.” Ai blinked. “I’m sorry?” He laughed off her question like a mall Santa. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Plenty of people get Pinked. It’s only one little dot. Just keep doing what you’re doing and it’ll be over before you know it.” Ai could feel panic start to set in. She was almost out of the forest but could hear the snapping of dry twigs and the hungry growl of a wolf behind her. “Luna?” she called out to the room. “What’s going on?” An artificial voice came out of the office’s speaker phone. “Mr. Grant is praising you for your perseverance thus far. I would also like to congratulate you on that front. You’ve been very mature given the circumstances.” “Why are you talking like I’m going to still be Pink tomorrow?” Ai demanded. “My time is up! I’m literally on my last diaper!” Mr. Grant suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “About that…” his eyes shifted from side to side. “Luna?” The machine’s gentle, soothing, irritating voice sounded off. “After much consideration, it has been determined that you would benefit from another ninety days of recuperation.” “Ninety days!” Ai found herself shouting. “Ninety days?! Just this morning you were telling me how proud you were of me and how good I’ve been!” “Careful…” Mr. Grant warned. “I am proud of you,” Luna droned. “You’ve made incredible progress. But progress is not the same as completion.” “What is there left to do?” Ai demanded to know. “I’m getting enough sleep! I’m not watching as much television! I’m eating better!” She gesticulated in Mr. Grant’s direction. “All of my work is still on time!” “Yes,” Luna agreed. “But you still seem to think that being Pink is a punishment. It’s not.” Without meaning to, Ai rose to her feet. “Then why are you punishing me?” “I told you she wouldn’t take this well,” Mr. Grant muttered. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Ai shrieked at her employer. “What business is it of yours if I’m Pink or not? Who do you think you are? My parents?!” Mr. Grant leaned back in his chair, distinctly uncomfortable despite Ai’s relatively diminutive stature. “I have known you your entire life,” Luna replied. “And Mr. Grant has a right to know about your status as it directly affects his work environment.” Ai’s fists balled up in rage. “Fuck you, Luna!” she stomped your foot. “I’ve been pissing my pants for three months and you still haven’t told me what I did wrong!” “It’s not about right and wro-” “Shut up you binary coded bitch!” Ai’s stomping foot sounded like thunder. “As you wish…” “And as for you!” Ai pointed directly at her two-faced sonofabitch boss. “How fucking dare you! I’ve been dealing with hazing and shame and whispers behind my back for literal months! And did I see any kind of memo about it? Did anybody get their ass chewed out and fired for harassment? Did anybody else get sent back to diapers? No! They didn’t.” Mr. Grant looked like he was about to say something, but Ai’s fury was disproportionate to anything the man had ever witnessed. “You want to be supportive?!” Ai screamed. “Stop taking orders from a bonkers machine! But you know what? I’m not taking orders from you anymore. I…I…I…!” Something was wrong. Ai’s stomach cramped up. As if on their own, her knees bent slightly. Then, completely against her will, she started to push. “Oh, Miss Sinclair,” Mr. Grant said. “I’m so sorry. I can’t say as I’m surprised, but I am sorry.” Ai had no comeback. She was too busy filling her pants. She was acutely aware while her cheeks spread and the first lumpy mass exited her. It was a small agony feeling the mess hit the back of her diaper and become smushed and spread by the contents behind it. It was even worse when she felt the pressure release and was allowed a gasp as her cheeks came back together and then spread a second time while she started pushing again. There was a knock at the door. Ai couldn’t help but continue pushing, near the point of tears feeling the consistency shift to wetter and sloppier. “Come in,” Luna’s voice welcomed. A tall woman with raven hair walked around to Ai’s. Her scrubs were rose colored and decorated with safety pins, storks, bottles, and rattles. The diaper bag she carried was pastel pink. Ai had a feeling she knew whose name was stitched on it. “Hello Ai,” she said. “My name’s Maria!” The way she spoke indicated that she thought Ai was a simpleton. “If that’s too hard to say, you can try ‘Nana’.” The Carer walked back around and disappeared behind Ai. Just when the young woman’s body finished emptying itself, she felt two fingers stick themselves into the waistband of her incredibly heavy diaper and pull it back. “Good girl!” Ai felt a hand pat her on the bottom, pressing the vile stuff that had just exited her up against her bum and spread it around even more. Her legs felt a breeze. Her skirt was now puddled around her ankles. “Mr. Grant, would you mind clearing your desk off for me? I don’t think her diaper is going to last if she takes another step.” “Of…of course,” Mr. Grant stuttered. He hurriedly swiped papers, pens, his nameplate, and various other knick-knacks off his desk so that the Carer would lay out a changing mat. Not unkindly he said, “And don’t worry, Ai. I don’t hold anything you just said against you. Pinks can’t help it. I’m sure we can make a work from home arrangement if you’d like.” Ai’s world went into a spin figuratively and literally as the Carer picked her up, spun her around and sat her down on the desk. Ai could feel the mess cake itself on her bottom. The Carer took the time to slip off her flats first. “Okay,” she coaxed. “Down we go. That’s a good girl.” “Please…” Ai begged, her voice a choked up whisper. “Please not here.” Her new ‘Nana’ took out an incredibly babyish diaper and wipes. “Don’t be silly,” she cooed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to be modest.” Ai’s ears didn’t hear it, but she swore she could hear an unspoken ‘anymore’ in the tall woman’s tone. Ai lifted up her wrist and stared at the second glowing dot, freshly added. “Why, Luna?” she choked. “Why?” “I’m afraid that won’t do you any good,” the Carer cooed. “Luna never talks to children.” The world went completely blurry for Ai just then. The tears finally won out right as the tapes on her diaper were torn loose.

I went 24/7 about 4 years ago. I rarely mess in my diapers since it involves more work than I care for. I recommend that you protect your skin. Rashes are a pain to get rid of. I told my urologist and my primary care physician that I was doing this as a choice, not because of any medical issue. I didn't want them trying to cure a nonproblem. Outside of that, I have been fortunate to mostly work from home or work in my own office. The gym was tricky, but it is only a big deal if you make it one.

Spats aint happy! Bad things happen when Spats aint happy. Maybe a visit with the girls will cool him down? Hope he don't screw up and piss off Ian. He would have to change his nickname to Splat!

I don't have to wear one even though I would like to all of the time. So how long will you wear a diaper after first wetting? I like to wait until I think it might leak. How long after messing in it? My wife doesn't want me to mess mine so I would have a hard time answering this one.

Chapter 12: A New Solution I woke up with a bunch of fur in my face. I let out a loud sneeze as I shoved our orange cat off of me. Chester trotted halfway to my now open bedroom door – he must have snuck in while I was sleeping – and then looked back and made a chirpy meow at me. Yes, yes, I get it, cat. You’re hungry. There was no choice but to get up and feed him. Not unless I wanted him bothering me until it was time to get up and get ready for school. My digital clock still said there was an hour-and-a-half left until it was time to get up for the day. I could probably even squeeze in another ten minute of sleep if I waited until Mom came to wake me up. I looked down at my pajamas as I got out of the sleeping bag. There was a clear and obvious problem. These were the same ones I had worn to bed last night. I had forgotten to toss them in the laundry with my bedding last night. I took a deep breath. That was a close call. If Mom had caught me in these pajamas, it would have raised questions I’d be unable to provide a satisfactory answer for. I changed into a new pair of pajamas and headed downstairs with my old ones. There wasn’t a need for the flashlight app on my phone as the first rays of sunlight were coming through the windows. I walked as quietly as I could. Chester trotted alongside me, chirping noisily. At least I’d have a good excuse for being up if anyone was awake when I was returning to my bedroom. I filled up Chester’s food and water bowls in the laundry room. They hadn’t even been fully empty. The stupid cat couldn’t be satisfied with eating out of a bowl that was only half-way full. Now I needed to deal with my pajamas. I turned on the faucet in the sink next to the washing machine and held my pajamas under the water until they were soaked. I twisted them in my hands to wring out all the excess water and then stuffed the pajamas in with the still very damp bedding in the washing machine. There, now, when Mom moved the laundry over to the dryer, nothing would seem out of place. <><><> A yawn escaped me at the start of math class. Mr. Thompson was going around handing back our final homework assignment of the year before we got started on our final exam. It had taken me about an hour to fall back to sleep after putting my pajamas in the washing machine. At that point, I’d only gotten another thirty minutes of sleep before Mom woke me up for school. From the look on her face, this most recent fake bedwetting incident had completely caught her by surprise. I suppose she had thought all the preventative measures she’d made me take would have been enough to bring the bedwetting to an end. Mom had taken care of vacuuming up the baking soda on the mattress and moving the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer. As far as I was able to tell, she hadn’t caught on to the fact that I had faked the bedwetting accident simply by tossing my bedding and pajamas in the washing machine. Mr. Thompson handed the algebra homework paper to me as he passed by my desk. I stared at it in disbelief. The letter “C” was circled in red at the top right corner. I skimmed through the questions. Several of them had been marked as incorrect with red dashes through them. That was a complete betrayal. It was totally unfair. I had held up to my end of the bargain in keeping Grace’s secret, and she hadn’t even bothered to deliver me a good grade. There was no way these questions had been too difficult for my older sister. I tucked the assignment angrily into my backpack. I was going to have a word with Grace after school. The next set of papers our teacher handed out was even less fun than the first. Our final exam for the math class was fifty questions long and would account for twenty-five percent of the grade for the year. It was hard enough to do math when I was fully awake, but I was exhausted from the lack of sleep over the past several days. All the numbers and symbols seemed to dance around in front of me as I tried to work my way through each question. It didn’t help that I’d already had to sit through five different tests today, with each one seeming to go worse than the one preceding it. It was no use. I gave up about halfway through, beginning to fill in the little multiple-choice circles with my pencils with my best guess after reading through the question once. At least if I finished earlier, I could find somewhere to sit and rest outside in the hallway. <><><> I struggled to pretend that the way my parents were limiting my liquids didn’t annoy me. But it wasn’t fair. Mom had made fresh-squeezed lemonade to go with our dinner of hotdogs fresh off of the backyard grill, and I had been given a much smaller portion of lemonade than I would have preferred. Even Jackson had as much as me, and Mom was as careful with monitoring his sugar intake as she had been when I was his age. But the amount I had to drink tonight was irrelevant. I intended to instead wet the bed closer to when I was about to get up in the morning, so long as I could figure out a way to be awake at least a decent time before needing to get up for school. No amount of restrictions on how much I was allowed to drink would change the fact that I would need to pee when I woke up in the morning. I wasn’t sure of all the specifics of the plan. I would simply need to improvise when the time came. I watched as Grace quickly finished her meal, excusing herself from the table and heading off toward her bedroom. I hadn’t managed to corner her yet. She still owed me an explanation for the poor grade she had gotten me on the Algebra homework. I finished my hotdog in a large final bite and washed it down with the remainder of my pitiful serving of lemonade. It was time to confront my sister. I retrieved the mangled homework paper from my backpack in my bedroom, straightening it out before walking up to my sister’s bedroom door. I knocked on Grace’s door. No response. I knocked again, a bit louder. “I’m coming,” Grace said. “Yes, I know I need to still do the dishes.” A few seconds later, her bedroom door cracked open a few inches. “Oh, it’s you?” Grace said. “I’m busy.” I shoved the homework paper in her face before she could shut the door on me. Grace nudged it aside with her hand. “What are you so upset about?” Grace asked nonchalantly. “I got a ‘C’ on the assignment. You were supposed to help me get all the questions correct.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Let me let you in on a secret of cheating on homework. Never get a score that would make your teacher suspicious. If you had turned in an assignment that had every single answer correct, that would raise a lot of questions. I doubt you’ve gotten an ‘A’ on any assignment in the class this year, and to do so on an especially difficult one would make it look really obvious that you didn’t do the work yourself.” “Oh.” I hadn’t considered that at all. “If I hadn’t helped, you probably would have gotten a zero on it,” Grace said. “So, you still came out well ahead. Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.” Grace stepped back and shut the door in my face. I was left to wonder how she was so knowledgeable about cheating on homework. <><><> “Maddy, your dad and I need to talk with you about something.” I could feel my heart begin to speed up. That phrase was never the harbinger of good news. I looked up at Mom from where I was sitting on the couch with my phone. She was standing near the entrance to the living room. There was a serious look on her face, but it differed from the more annoyed expression that she wore when I was in trouble for something. Jackson was oblivious to Mom’s request. He was sprawled out on the carpet in front of the couch, playing Minecraft on a tablet. Thankfully, Grace was nowhere to be seen. She was secluded upstairs again in her bedroom after having come down briefly to wash dishes in the kitchen. What could I have possibly done wrong? The list of options was longer than I would have liked. It had to be something more than just forgetting my chores. I would just be sent off to do them right away if that were the case. The one thing that didn’t worry me was my end-of-year grades. They weren’t looking to be that good, but Mom and Dad wouldn’t be getting hold of them for at least a week or more. That could be dealt with later. But there was the Algebra quiz. Had Mr. Thompson decided something was off after all and told my parents about it? Or had one of my friends blabbed about how Grace had left us on our own at the mall? Either of those would have me spending a sizable amount of time grounded at the start of summer break. But as bad as either of those two outcomes might be, there were even worse possibilities to consider. What if they’d caught on to how I had been faking the bedwetting? If they questioned me about whether it was real, would I be able to lie effectively, or would I crumble under the pressure of that interrogation? “Maddy, come on,” Mom said, giving her head a slight shake in the direction of the hallway. I stepped carefully over my brother as I walked in a straight line toward the hallway. Regardless of what I was going to be disciplined for, I had a pretty good idea of how it was going to go down. Unlike either of my friends, I had never been on the receiving end of a spanking. That didn’t mean that my parents’ disciplinary methods were ever enjoyable. In fact, there were a number of times when I think I would have rather endured a spanking than be forced to be grounded from electronics for a week. As I followed Mom down the hallway, I was mentally bracing myself for the long lecture I was about to get, followed by being grounded from whatever my parents thought would best convince me to behave better in the future. There wasn’t a specific location in the house where these conversations normally took place; it was always somewhere away from my siblings, so they couldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation. I followed Mom to the entrance room, where Dad was already sitting on the right side of a small couch. Dad patted the middle of the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat, Maddy.” That was different from normal. Aside from the fact that these lectures usually began before being given a chance to sit down, there was the realization that neither of my parents had used my full name. That made me even more confused. So, I wasn’t in trouble? I took a seat next to Dad, and then Mom squeezed in beside me to my left. There was barely enough room for us on the couch, which was probably only meant for two occupants. I kept my mouth shut. Better to wait and see what exactly my parents were up to than guess and be wrong. “We need to have a talk about what’s been happening at night,” Mom said. “About how we’re going to need to handle the bedwetting.” There it was. I tried to get myself into the right mindset for this conversation. I had to talk as though the bedwetting was surprising and upsetting, that I wanted nothing more than for it to come to an end. And, if possible, I needed to find a way to discreetly steer the conversation toward the possibility of getting pull-ups without revealing how badly I wanted those specific undergarments. “It is kind of our fault, in a way,” Dad said. “And mine,” Mom added. I looked back and forth between my parents. How in the world could it be their fault that I was wetting the bed? “I read that if both parents had a history of wetting the bed as kids, then it meant their own kids have a three-in-four chance of being bedwetters themselves,” Dad explained. Fractions always gave me a hard time. I tried to picture it in my head the way that my elementary math teacher had explained long ago. Leave it to Dad to turn bedwetting into a math problem. “What that means,” Mom said, “is that since your father and I both were bedwetters when we were kids, that means that it was very likely that our own kids would have issues with that as well. We thought we’d dodged a bullet with you and Jackson, but I guess not.” Wait. What? I conjured images of Mom and Dad as kids, drawing on old family photo albums I had gone through before. The idea of either of them waking up in the middle of the night to wet sheets was too much. I started to laugh. “No way.” I looked back and forth at Mom and Dad again. Sitting sandwiched between them was making this conversation more difficult than necessary. “For real?” “I think I wet the bed nearly every night until I was nine or so,” Mom said. “I remember I wasn’t allowed to go on any sleepovers until I stopped. It lasted a bit longer for you, honey?” “Yes,” Dad muttered. I’d never seen him look so flustered. “Bedwetting didn’t stop for me until I turned fourteen. My siblings weren’t as, um, understanding about it as they should have been.” “The point we’re trying to say, Maddy,” Mom said, “is that bedwetting isn’t a big deal. It isn’t your fault or anything you need to be embarrassed about. It’s something that lots of other kids have to deal with. I don’t think this bedwetting phase should last all that long, but we’ll be with you to help you get through it, no matter how long it takes.” “And if you have any questions or anything you want to tell us,” Dad said. “I promise we won’t judge you for it. We went through the same things as you.” If only I was bold enough to take Dad up on that offer. There was a question I wanted to ask really badly. Had either of my parents worn diapers or pull-ups to bed? Had there even bed ones available in their size that long ago? But I had to work to hold myself back from asking about it. No kid my age was going to proactively seek out information about diapers. I had to remember that I was supposed to be feeling embarrassed and concerned about the situation. “I just don’t get why it started all of a sudden.” “I don’t know either,” Mom said. “We’ll worry about that if it keeps up. For now, I think we’re just going to focus on making things a bit easier to clean up if the bedwetting happens again. We are going to need to do something to make sure that your mattress doesn’t get ruined. Cleaning it up afterward is OK for the occasional accident, but not if you are peeing on it almost every night.” I focused all my thoughts on keeping a straight face. This was it. This was when they would tell me that they had purchased the pull-ups so that the mattress wouldn’t be getting wet every night. I could hardly believe my luck. I would be getting pull-ups after wetting the bed only three times in four days. “We’re going to switch your mattress for the one that Grace has on her bed,” Dad said. “It has a waterproof covering, which makes it a lot easier to clean up after bedwetting accidents.” That was not what I wanted. There was no hiding the look of disappointment on my face. But it improved my subterfuge, as Mom and Dad took it to be a sign that I was embarrassed by needing a special mattress. Mom began to rub my back. “I’m sure this bedwetting phase will run its course quickly enough, but until then, won’t it be a lot nice to not have to worry about cleaning the mattress in the middle of the night? You could swap the bedding out and go back to sleeping in bed rather than on the floor in a sleeping bag.” “I guess.” Mom had a solid point. It would be nice not to have to spray cleaning solutions and then dry off the mattress with paper towels and sprinkle baking soda all over it. Faking the bedwetting would take a lot less work on my part. “We better get that done before it’s time for bed. Why don’t we get that taken care of now?” Dad said. I followed my parents up the stairs and to my bedroom. My room was a bit of a mess. I had some dirty clothes tossed on the floor that should have been put in the laundry hamper, there was a pile of unfolded laundry on my bed that I had been supposed to get put away before dinner, and then there was the fact that I hadn’t made the bed either like I was supposed to. I had just tossed the clean sheets and covers haphazardly across the mattress. Mom examined the scene with a sigh. “We’ll talk about the state of your bedroom later. Why don’t you get everything off of the mattress and set it to the side while we talk with your sister about the mattress swap?” They left me to it, shutting the door behind them as they walked over to my sister’s bedroom. I picked up the dirty laundry and tossed it into the hamper in the closet, then went to tackle the mess that was my bed. After tossing everything unceremoniously on the floor, I heard some raised voices from out in the hallway. I tiptoed over to my door and placed my ear right up against it. “You’ve been asking for a new mattress for a long time,” Dad said. “Yeah, and you always told me that you weren’t quite ready to trust me with one yet,” Grace said. Did that mean what I thought it meant? Grace had supposedly stopped wetting the bed when she was twelve. “Seriously, it was only like once or twice a year at that point. Besides, it hasn’t happened for like two years now.” That probably wasn’t without any close calls, though. The time Grace had caught me in the hallway a few nights ago, she had been in quite the hurry to go use the toilet herself. “Exactly,” Mom said. “So now is the perfect time to do the swap because of how your sister has been wetting the bed a lot the past few days.” “That’s gross, Mom. I don’t want Maddy’s mattress. Not after she’s peed all over it.” “Hey,” Mom said. “It got cleaned up right away each time. There aren’t any visible stains, and it doesn’t even smell funny at all. Besides, it’s not like the mattress you are giving her hasn’t been peed on several hundred times.” “Yeah, but it has a plastic cover. It cleans off without a trace.” “Look, we’re doing the mattress swap. I’m sure Maddy will be done with the bedwetting soon. When that happens. She’ll have her old mattress back, and we’ll buy a new one for you.” “Ugh, fine,” Grace said. “I’ll get the sheets off.” I heard my sister’s bedroom door shut rather loudly. I retreated to standing back near my bed lest my parents returned to my bedroom to catch me eavesdropping. Mom opened my bedroom door a few seconds later. “Are you all set, Maddy?” “Yeah.” “Good; why don’t you help me get your mattress off of the bed frame?” The mattress wasn’t as heavy as I had expected it to be, but it was still a bit of work to lift it up and set it against the wall. Dad and Grace entered the bedroom a minute later, carrying a strange mattress. It wasn’t a normal looking white mattress, like mine, and it also didn’t have a fabric exterior. It instead had a light blue vinyl exterior. It looked more like something that would be seen in a hospital than a bedroom. The new mattress fit onto the bedframe perfectly, which was the benefit of us both having queen-sized beds. From how Grace was looking at my mattress, I could tell that she was trying to determine if there were any visible urine stains on it. I didn’t know why Grace had thrown such a fuss in the hallway. It seemed that she was getting the better deal out of this. She finally had a normal, comfortable mattress to sleep on. “Well, that’s set,” Mom said. “Why don’t you get your bed made, Maddy, we’ll leave you to it.” Dad and Grace grabbed my mattress while Mom went ahead and held the door open all the way so they could maneuver it out into the hallway and toward Grace’s bedroom. Mom shut the door behind her, leaving me by myself. Once all the sheets and covers were back on, my bed didn’t look any different. At first glance, there wouldn’t be any way to tell that something was off. The changed the moment I laid down on it, as it crinkled loudly, reminiscent of that time three years ago when I had snooped through my sister’s bedroom. Even shifting my weight ever so slightly caused more plastic crinkling sounds. There was no question that it was a downgrade from my other mattress. It likely was going to take a while to get used to sleeping in it. Still, it couldn’t be argued that this was going to beat sleeping on the floor. I tried to lie as still as I could, just to get a moment of silence. It wasn’t the pull-ups I had been hoping for. It was progress. Mom and Dad were now taking the bedwetting seriously, but was it progress in the right direction? Had this been their sole solution for my sister’s bedwetting? What if they had never once purchased pull-ups for her? What if my parents didn’t care that my sheets and bedding got soaked with urine every night so long as the mattress was protected? Could that be the reason I had never noticed Grace wearing a pull-up before bed? Was this why I hadn’t been able to find any evidence of pull-ups since that time I had searched her bedroom? Had my parents deliberately decided not to get her pull-ups, or perhaps had they not even realized that it was an option? My sister had been potty trained around the same age as me, meaning she would have been about two when she was dry during the day. She didn’t stop regularly wetting the bed until she was twelve. Had she really gone through ten straight years of waking up to wet pajamas every night? Ten straight years of needing to change sheets and bedding in the dark, first with her parents’ help and then on her own? That sounded absolutely awful. And that still left the question about what had happened on that vacation to my grandparents’ place six years ago. Grace had wet the bed that first night. And there had been no further evidence of accidents after that. Had six-year-old me simply not been all that observant? Or had something else been going on at the time? I hadn’t even considered the possibility of different types of mattresses. I realized that there was still a lot about bedwetting that I didn’t know. I checked my phone. It was about time to get ready for bed again. I went to brush my teeth and use the toilet. There was nothing to do but keep pressing forward with my plan. My parents still seemed to think that the bedwetting would end soon. Perhaps if it didn’t, they might start to look at solutions other than the waterproof mattress. I set the alarm on my phone for forty-five minutes before I was supposed to be up for school. It wouldn’t do any good to have it wake anyone else in the house. But I had the perfect solution in mind. As I laid back down on my now super crinkly bed, I plugged a pair of headphones into my phone. I tucked one of them into my right ear, making sure to lay down in a way that wouldn’t cause me to dislodge the headphones while I was asleep. I would pee in the bed when I woke up early and allow Mom to discover me sleeping in a wet bed when she came to get me up for school. I needed to make the bedwetting as inconvenient as possible. I had to get to a point where my parents would realize that pull-ups would make managing it so much easier. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

The brand new ABU Teddy that I came up with, a cross between an ABU Little Kings and a Kiddo Teddy's 😎😂😂😂

I don't know if you only read the stories or also the comments. But believe me compared to others (like me) you are not bad to Connor with this comment. I live for bad bad things happening to characters in DD.

One of the best chapters so far in one of my favourite stories! I am definitely looking forward to seeing how Tippi reacts to the proposed deal…

Chapter 4 --- The next day Sarah approached Kate with a shy smile. "I was thinking... I think I can spend the night at your house next weekend. We don’t have that… thing … with my family." Kate’s heart leaped into her throat, not believing that Sarah had said yes, but now that the moment was here, the reality of it felt overwhelming. She bounced on her toes. "Awesome! It's going to be so much fun. We can stay up late telling ghost stories and painting each other's nails and..." As Kate chattered on enthusiastically, Sarah felt a blush creeping up her neck. The idea of her first sleepover was thrilling, but the looming specter of her nighttime issues hung heavily over the excitement. She thought of the practice runs she'd done with her mom, the awkward process of diapering and cleaning up discreetly. Could they really pull that off at Kate's house, without anyone finding out? Sarah took a deep breath, trying to center herself. Her mom's words echoed in her head: "You're facing your fears head-on, and that's the definition of bravery." She could do this. She had a plan, she had practiced, and most importantly, she had her mom's unwavering support. Sarah tuned back in to Kate's animated planning, forcing a smile that she hoped looked more confident than she felt. "That all sounds perfect," she agreed, her voice only slightly unsteady. "I can't wait." Their teacher called for the class to settle down, and the rest of the day passed in a blur, Sarah's mind constantly flicking between giddy anticipation and nervous worst-case scenarios. By the time she got home, she felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest touch. *** Kate nervously fiddled with the hem of her shirt as she approached her mom, who was folding laundry in the living room. "Hey Mom? Sarah said she could spend then night. Can we practice the sleepover plan one more time? I want to make sure I've got it down." Kate's mom smiled warmly, reaching out to smooth Kate's hair. "That’s great news. Of course, sweetie. Let's go through it step by step, so you feel totally prepared." She retrieved a diaper from the package in Kate's room, then paused. "For the sleepover how about we store most of these in the master bedroom? That way, they'll be out of sight.” Kate nodded gratefully, and followed her mom to the bathroom for their practice run. Lucky, their dog, tried to follow, but Kate’s mom closed the door and said, “Lucky, you’ll have to wait - there’s barely enough room for two of us in her.” "Alright, honey, go ahead and lie down on the bathmat," her mom instructed gently as Lucky whined quietly outside the door. Kate obeyed, her heart fluttering with nerves about the sleepover as she settled onto the plush rug. The bathroom tile felt cool against her bare legs. Her mom knelt beside her, unfolding the diaper with practiced movements. "Bottom up, sweetie." Kate lifted her hips, allowing her mom to slide the diaper beneath her. "There we go," her mom murmured, securing the tabs snugly around Kate's waist. "How does that feel? Not too tight?" Kate sat up gingerly, aware of the comfortable bulk between her legs. "Perfect," she assured, wriggling a bit to settle the padding. Her mom helped her to her feet, then walked her through the morning removal process. "So, first thing when you wake up, you'll want to sneak in here and take off the diaper. Roll it up tightly, then slip it into one of these scented bags, like this." She demonstrated, sealing the bag with a quick twist. "Then just tuck it into the trash can under the sink. I'll make sure to empty it before Sarah wakes up, so she'll never know it was there." Kate nodded along, committing each step to memory. A small part of her marveled at how surreal this all felt - strategizing ways to hide diapers from her best friend, like some kind of bizarre spy mission. As if reading her mind, her mom reached out to cup Kate's cheek, her eyes soft with understanding. "I know this all feels a bit strange and scary, honey. But you're handling it with so much grace and bravery. I'm really proud of you." Kate leaned into the touch, feeling some of her anxiety melt away. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered. "I couldn't do this without you." They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing together, until Kate remembered something. "Oh! Um, while we're here...could you maybe put me in a fresh diaper?" Her mom, recognizing her nervousness about the sleepover, smiled tenderly. "Of course, sweetie. Come here." She guided Kate back down to the bathmat, diapering her with the same gentle efficiency as before. As she taped the last tab in place, she smoothed a hand over Kate's arm. "It's okay to be nervous," she murmured. "Sleepovers can be scary even without the extra challenges. But you've got this, Kate. You're so much stronger than you know." Kate blinked back sudden tears, nodding shakily. "I love you, Mom," she whispered, the words feeling somehow too big and not big enough for this moment. Her mom gathered her into a warm hug, mindful of the padding between them. "I love you too, baby. Always and forever, no matter what." *** The next day at school, Sarah and Kate huddled together during lunch, excitement and nerves mingling as they planned out their sleepover. "I was thinking we could make personal pizzas for dinner," Kate suggested, doodling topping ideas in the margin of her notebook. "And then maybe have an epic Mario Kart tournament after?" Sarah grinned, nudging Kate's shoulder with her own. "That sounds perfect. And we can't forget the most important part - staying up way too late talking and giggling until your mom has to tell us to go to sleep for the third time." Kate laughed, a bright, unburdened sound that made Sarah's heart lift. In that moment, all her anxiety about diapers and nighttime accidents felt far away, eclipsed by the simple joy of scheming with her best friend. The rest of the day passed in a blur of giddy anticipation and carefully concealed nerves. By the time Sarah got home, she felt like a bottle of shaken soda, ready to burst with a jumble of emotions. When Sarah got home, her mom emerged from the home office, and sensing Sarah’s nervous energy, motioned for her to sit on the couch. She said, “We have a great plan - I know it will work. Let’s review it again. We can even do another dry run." They settled on the living room couch, Sarah fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she repeated the plan they'd come up with. "So when it's getting close to bedtime, you’ll come over and say I forgot my medication. You'll meet me in the bathroom to help with the diaper. Then in the morning, I'll get up before Kate, take off the diaper, and wrap it up to throw it away when I get home. Right?" Her mom nodded, reaching out to still Sarah's restless hands with a gentle squeeze. "That's right, honey. And remember, we'll have your overnight bag packed with extra diapers and supplies, just in case." Sarah took a deep breath, trying to let her mom's calm confidence settle her jumping nerves. "Okay. Yeah. I think I've got it."

Wow, what a fun read! From start to finish, the laughs just kept coming. You didn't take any prisoners here, but the take down of the Dean is a classic. Now, it's on to the parallel chapter in the Homage story. Keep them coming!

That's why we change diapers before they leak. I prefer medium capacity diapers even though I have to change them more often than high capacity diapers. These become too thick, less discreet and more uncomfortable when they become saturated. But that is of course a personal choice.

You may be on to something. As one of the responders indicated, many people have a negative association of sleeping in wet sheets. That may create a subconcious bias towards only bedwetting if in a diaper at night vs "anytime anywhere" bedwetting. In theory, sleeping for weeks without a diaper, wetting the sheets whenever the urinary urge comes on could reduce / remove that barrier. Meaning, training ones self to be comfortable letting go without a diaper every night. Eventually your body will let go automatically into the sheets (even without a diaper) Of course, you'd need to also be comfortable sleeping in a wet bed every night and probably have to reposition the idea of laundry every day to a positive. If you're wetting while asleep without a diaper consistently, I am confident you would likewise wet while asleep even with a diaper. Speaking from experience, I am maybe 25% to half used to sleeping in a wet bed (If the diaper majorly leaks, I won't change the sheets until the morning. But I do take off the wet shirt and usually the underpad and set them aside for the morning. That said, I have trained to uncontrollable wettings at night when in a diaper (Example- staying in a friend's new bed, minimizing liquids and peeing right before bed to not have an accident THAT night... but awakening having soaked the diaper and stained the bed without remembering it anyways) "Wetting without remembering" may happen up to several times a week, but I can also go maybe 2 weeks where it doesn't happen. A therapist once told me it's best to "go with the flow" meaning enjoy when it happens but don't stress if it doesn't (versus worrying about wetting or not wetting). Seems to work.

Also a furry! Just a girl that can't wait to make friends!!

They've gone full Kohls. Just waiting for Bambino Bucks and a Bambino credit card. Maybe they should have never gone full Kohls.

I saw a guy once who could grab tapes from both sides and stick them down simultaneously and with perfect alignment. He was incredible. Truly a step above all of us.

Well, I've mentally really shifted to looking towards the future. I already have my flight and hotel booked. I'm staying at the exact same hotel. This time I don't have a day ahead in the hotel before my surgery, but I'm fine with that. It will be great to get the surgery going the very morning after I arrive. I continue to not be blocked, and not need diapers. So, I'm glad this has all been set in motion again.

Depending on what you're editing in that might be the case. Text should be like this. Paragraph. Paragraph. If you're seeing that without messing with your spacing, you probably have an extra paragraph character like this. Paragraph Paragraph The second is what I'm seeing in the post.

I don't care about discretion. I don't care if someone can tell or can figure out that plastic-backed toddler underwear is involved. I wear the normal size clothing regardless of diaper status.

Chapter 3: Growing Pains Something was wrong. Ai looked up from her tablet. “Hey,” Ai asked. “Where’s Winnie?” The other Two-Dots looked at one another around the sandbox. “Who?” “Winnie,” Ai repeated. “Ginger? Frizzy hair? Likes to tattle when people have had an accident? Tries to help with diaper changes?” That last part certainly didn’t narrow the field down. “So,” one of the others said, “You but not Asian?” Cruel titters rang out and Ai rose out from her spot and marched over to Maria. “Excuse me, Maria?” Ai asked. “Where’s Winnie?” Maria blinked. “Who?” “We had the sleepover that one time? Could you ask Luna where she is?” A flash of recognition. “Oh! Winnie! That Winnie! Luna promoted her back to one-dot about a month ago. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” Fresh adrenaline and hope surged through the Pink’s veins. Someone got out! Someone actually got out! She’d done it! That meant it could be done! “How?” Maria frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Luna just ran all the calculations and determined that Winnie was ready.” “When will I be ready?” “That’s not up to me to decide.” She knew Winnie hadn’t been at two dots that much longer! “Am I close?” A warning look was given. “Ai…” “I’ve got to be close!” Ai gushed. “I try and help get people’s diaper bags and I tell the Carers when somebody needs changing! And I tell you whenever I need a change! I’ve gotta be almost ready! I’ve gotta!” She was practically dancing. Maria reached out and patted the girl on top of her head. “I don’t think it works like that.” “But…but…but…why not?” “Go play.” *************************************************************************************************** Ai rode in her stroller. The soft click-clacking the wheels of her stroller as it rode over the panels of sidewalk mixed with the rhythmic suckling and the taste of apple juice. All in all it was soothing, an easy distraction. She was behind on her rent, but not enough for her to lose her apartment. (Her apartment that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside of). She just had to pay a fine on top of everything else. She stared down, past her bottle, at the tablet in her lap. Goddamn thing had become the center of her whole world these last few months. She’d progressed, though. Luna had almost forgiven her; determined that she was independent enough to reactivate her privileges and reinstall all of her old capabilities. She just knew it. The blueberry party dress she’d been put in felt like such an upgrade after all the onesies and rompers. Finally her diaper was on display for all to see! That meant something, didn’t it? Of course it did. It had to! Apple juice finished, her eyelids started to droop. Too many late nights trying to get that extra pay. Tonight would likely be no different. So much to do. So much to get ready for. And nothing but noisy playgrounds to get it done on. Maybe if she took just a little nap… “Hi Maria!” Ai’s eyes jerked open. Directly across from her was another stroller, carrying another Pink. The young man looked completely mortified as was appropriate. “Candice! Hello!” Maria said, her voice booming out from behind Ai’s stroller. “Who’s this?” “This is Josh,” the other Carer replied. “Luna just sent me to him today! We’re getting to know each other!” “He is such a cutie!” Maria cooed. The man who had likely just soiled himself for the first time in ages sunk down in his seat trying to disappear. Ai wanted to tell him that he’d get used to it, but Luna might think she wasn’t ready if she told lies. “Oh yes he is! We’re going to have such fun together getting him back on track!” The other Carer stepped around the stroller and bent over. “And who do we have…is that Ai?” Ai’s muscles seized up in surprise and panic. She didn’t know the woman’s name, but she knew the face. “Where’s Greggy?” “Greggy?” the Carer said. “Greggy was three charges ago!” Three charges? How had she not noticed? How had this happened? Greggy had definitely been demoted to Two-Dot status after Ai. How had he graduated so quickly? What was his secret? What had he done right? What was she continuing to do wrong? Ai felt her diaper warming up. It was a coincidence but the timing felt appropriate. Though it’s said Luna controlled people’s nanites. Perhaps a point was being made. ********************************************************************************************************** The slow, familiar, not quite in-tune notes of ‘Happy Birthday’ echoed out of Maria’s kitchen. Maria wasn’t much of a singer, but something delicious was baking in the oven. Ai put aside her tablet and got up from the carpet. She wasn’t allowed on the furniture. If she wanted to sit with back support her options were the wall, the highchair, or the ‘activity chair’, which was Maria’s term for an incredibly oversized and immobile walker. “What’s cooking?” Ai asked. She remembered her manners and added, “it smells wonderful.” “I’m glad you agree,” Maria smiled. “I’m baking it for you. Chocolate cake is still your favorite, right?” Ai’s mouth began salivating. “Yes ma’am!” she said. Were she a dog, her tail would be wagging. Not so deep in the back of her mind, hope and hunger mingled. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion?” “I know a certain someone who has a very special day coming up,” Maria replied in a jovial sing-song voice. Ai’s toes curled and dug into the linoleum. She’d already been forced to spend a birthday in this state, so it couldn’t be that. “What kind of special day…?” A smile dared to tug at the corner of her lips. Was this…a graduation cake? Would she be moving out soon? Go back to the probationary period of only one dot? Maybe even gain her potty training all the way back? A girl could dream, right? Maria took off her apron and stepped forward, arms spread wide for a hug. “I know it’s early but…” Ai practically leaped into the other woman’s embrace, hugging her as hard as she could. “Happy Anniversary, Ai!” Ai’s arms went slack, dangling uselessly at her side. She was only vaguely aware of one of Maria’s hands patting her backside and pulling back the waistband. “Just checking,” she whispered, casually. Ai pushed herself away from Maria. Her Luna-assigned Carer let her. “It’s been a year?!” she cried out. So many emotions to process. Where had all the time gone? Why hadn’t she been promoted yet? Would she ever? Or was she just slaving away at a sandbox, shitting herself, making someone else money so she could hold onto an apartment she’d never get to live in again? “Why am I…?! How did this…?! Why am I still…?!” Ai had neither the strength nor the heart to finish any of those questions. “Honey,” Maria clicked her tongue. “You’ve made progress but Luna says you’ve still got a long way to go.” “How long?” But Ai already knew the answer. “As long as it takes, dear. As long as it takes.” ************************************************************************************************************** A year. It had been an entire year. How the hell had that happened? Ai stomped onto the playground the next morning, barefoot save for the T-shirt and diaper Maria had dressed her in this morning. Her stomach gave her one of the few warnings she could still detect with an audible gurgle. This morning’s oatmeal would be catching up to her soon. For a full year she’d been stuck like this. Stuck in neutral. Idling. Waiting for forgiveness- or at least instructions on how to make amends- that would never come. Behind her, the other Pinks who still hoped to return to their old lives plugged away and teased each other incessantly. Their mean-spirited and tired giggles were as part of Ai’s environmental soundtrack as much as the tweeting of birds and the chittering of squirrels. None of that mattered. Not anymore. Ai had finally been able to put a name to all the emotions she’d been experiencing, roiling around inside her like a hurricane. Denial. Anger. Envy. Despair. But not acceptance. Never acceptance. A whole year of grieving. Fuck grieving. Fuck it all. So many faces had changed. None of the others at the sandbox seemed familiar to her anymore. They’d come and gone and come and gone while she remained trapped, serving a life sentence for crimes she’d never been charged with. Who hadn’t changed? The lifers. The ones that had long ago given up. The ones that screamed and cried and laughed and lived. The ones that made their Carers actually have to work instead of sitting on a bench, idly reading trashy books, only stirring to give a bottle or wipe an ass. She marched up to the first face she recognized. Ironic, or perhaps appropriate, considering. “Hi!” The Indian girl said, her smile big and toothy. The three pink dots that bled all the way to her forearm became a strobe because of how quickly she waved. “I’m Bala!” She held out a little porcelain doll, oddly delicate, considering how this familiar stranger seemed to enjoy doing everything cranked up to eleven. “Do you wanna-?” “Yes,” Ai said, before the girl could finish the question. “Teach me.” Tears started to form and drip down her face. “Please…please teach me.”

Chapter 2: Terrible Twos Ai sat on the edge of the sandbox, her back to the sand, miserably poking away on the tablet and trying to get as much work as possible done despite the plurality of roadblocks in her way. For starters, the fire engine red tablet in her lap was incredibly sensitive. It was designed to be a children’s gaming tablet and jam-packed with plenty of pastel pixelated entertainment for less developed minds to enjoy. Ai was allowed to use it for other purposes, but this model didn’t have any compatible keyboards so the girl was forced to make due with the installed keyboarding app in order to write her emails, reports, and fill out her spreadsheets. That simple limitation made it exceedingly difficult to do her job. The lack of tactile input made it so she couldn’t type without looking at the keyboard. The simple act of resting her hands on the keys in preparation registered the same as if she were mashing together a string of a’s, ‘j’s, f’s, k’s, d’s and so forth. As a result, Ai had to hunt and peck for every letter of every word making it extremely difficult to build up any kind of momentum or fall into a rhythm. The keyboarding software lacked an autocomplete feature, too, and punctuations, numbers, and so on required a completely different set-up to be opened. Frankly, it would have been easier to do her work on a phone. If only she’d been allowed one. Ai spared a moment to stare at the inside of her wrist. There were still two bright pink dots glowing just underneath her skin. Disbelief and despair had blended together into a potent cocktail so as to erase her object permanence. When she wasn’t retreating inside herself to deal with the shock or desperately trying to get work done on a computer designed for children she was looking at her wrist over and over. It was like looking for a missing pet or lost car keys; whether it was on the periphery of her vision or her thoughts Ai kept swearing she could almost see a singular dot proclaiming her current level of social demotion over, but every time she looked, there were the same two dots humming back at her. The young lady blinked and stared back at the screen, forcing herself to get back to work. Maria (Ai refused to call her ‘Nana’) had taken her to a public playground, but Ai chose to sulk and work in the sandbox. Ai hadn’t technically been fired from her job. She just wasn’t allowed to show up in person because the office didn’t have the facilities required to ‘meet her level of care’. But she would be fired if she couldn’t meet her deadlines. Nothing would happen to her if she lost her job. Luna ensured that everyone got the level of care they required. She technically hadn’t been evicted from her apartment, either. She just wasn’t allowed to stay there since she was required to sleep in a crib at Maria’s residence. She would be evicted if she got fired and couldn’t wire the rent over to her landlord. Nothing would happen to her if an eviction notice came. No one was homeless in the wonderful world Luna had so precisely organized. That was exactly Ai’s problem: If she lost her job and her home, nothing would happen to her. She’d stay stuck in this ridiculous yellow onesie and diaper, her Pink status would never be removed, and she’d be sucking on bottles, sleeping in cribs, and filling her pants while contributing nothing to society for the rest of her life. In a world where there was no risk, wealth was measured in independence. The more you could handle without Luna’s intervention, the better off you were. Conversely, Ai was the poorest she’d ever been because the artificial intelligence had deemed her needing the same care as a child. All of this raced, looped around, and spiraled back in on itself while Ai scrambled to get as much work done before Maria took her out for lunch. Pinks didn’t have daycares since after the first dot they were each assigned a personal Carer. Ai had to try and get her work done in her stroller, or on a playground, or wherever Maria decided to take her for ‘fresh air and enrichment’. That meant humiliating outfits, public diaper changes, and the smiles and scoffs of any random passersby. Just the other day, Ai endured a mother explaining to her toddler why ‘the big girl looked like a baby’. Maria apparently made enough money so that she could take Ai out to eat at least once a day. That meant public high chair feedings, face wipings, waitresses who loved pinching her cheeks telling her how cute she was, and hot guys thinking she was anything but. And the worst part of it all was she still hadn’t figured out what she’d done to need all of this. Luna wouldn’t talk directly to her anymore, and if Maria knew why, she wasn’t sharing. “How long do I have to stay like this?” Ai had asked that first day. “For as long as you need to, sweetie,” Maria replied. “For as long as you need to.” Presently, Ai pecked as quickly and as diligently as she could on the edge of the sandbox. Next to her were other Two-Dots grinding away to prove their potential for independence, pecking away at their own toy tablets. Of all of them, Ai was dressed the least modestly. Girls were in dresses and jumpers that only really covered the tops of their diapers. Boys wore thin shorts with elasticized waists that left the tops of their diapers constantly poking out and did nothing to hide the bulbous shape of the bulk between their thighs. Maria had condemned Ai to a yellow onesie with pastel green frogs hopping all around, her hair done up in pigtails, and a pacifier dangling from its clip, unused. Every nearby bench was occupied by Carers; their signature rose colored scrubs a uniform and symbol of their position in society. They sat quietly, reading trashy novels to themselves unless Luna or something else notified them of their charge needing something. Ai knew that this was all Luna’s decision, and that it was all for her own good, but she couldn’t help but feel resentful towards Maria. The sentient computer had calculated and handed down the decree, but it was Maria who was doing the dirty work. Ai shifted and barely noticed the squelch beneath her bottom. It had been months since she’d peed in a toilet. Frankly she was used to the feeling of a wet diaper, almost as if that first dot had been to desensitize and prepare her for her second. Her nose wrinkled and she instead took comfort that, if she leaked, it’d be Maria that would have to deal with it. She lifted her head and took in the playground. Pinks who had given up played loudly, screaming and running around without a care in the world. Some people really were suited to this pathetic lifestyle. Their Carers were working up quite a sweat, pushing swings, spinning merry-go-rounds, refereeing games of duck-duck-goose, and generally yelling at the overgrown children to be careful. Ai’s pigtails swayed lightly as she shook her head in quiet disgust. A ping from her tablet caught her attention. She looked down and saw that she had a new email. There was no subject, but she knew the sender intimately. Very intimately. She leaned forward, not quite on her haunches, and opened the message. Her eyes read the message but did not fully comprehend. She read it again. And again. And again. “He’s leaving me?” she said out loud, her voice trembling. “But it’s only been a week.” She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her as she adjusted herself and off the balls of her feet and sat back down. “EW!” A shrill voice cried. “Ai pooped! Ai pooped!” A chorus of snickers rose up to greet Ai, along with the sudden warm, lumpy feeling in the back of her onesie. Other Pinks dashed away from her leaving her side of the sandbox abandoned; their retreating footsteps the sound of dry crackling leaves being carried away by the wind. They pinched their noses and waved their hands in front of their face. Ai’s throat felt swollen, but not because of the mockery. What the hell? It’s not as if any of them could control their bowels thanks to the nanites! Constipation was the only thing keeping them from dropping a load in their diapers, too! Drawn by the mocking laughter, Maria trotted over to the sandbox and deadlifted Ai onto her hip. Nanites could do more than prevent disease and take away continence it seemed. “Come on, Miss Stinky Britches,” the Carer clucked. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Fingers pointed out like lasers and followed Ai all the way down to the changing mat laid out in the grass. Unwilling to yield or show weakness, Ai stared straight up at the cloudy sky; numbing herself; willing herself not to cry or blush or whimper or hide her face in her hands. “So this is Ai,” another Carer said from the bench. “You’re right, Maria. She is a real cutie.” “Shhh,” Marie chuckled, unbuttoning the snaps in Ai’s onesie. “She doesn’t know that, yet.” “I would appreciate it,” Ai said, finding her voice, “if you could please do this quickly. I’ve got work to do.” Her request was punctuated by the sounds of tapes ripping off and her diaper coming undone. “Oooooh,” the other Carer cooed. “Someone’s very serious today!” “She’s very precocious,” Maria agreed, lifting Ai’s legs and wiping her bottom for her. “Your Nana is changing you as quick as she can,” the third woman assured her. “Then you can go right back to playing on your little tablet with the other couch potatoes.” Ai was about to retort, but the mention of her tablet reminded her that she’d just been abandoned. That final straw weighed her down enough so that she retreated back down into herself while the old diaper was balled up and replaced, her ass powdered and creamed, and she was resealed into her cutesy crinkling prison. “All done.” The young woman got up and walked back to the sandbox. She hated how stiff the new diaper was, forcing her to move with it instead of the other way around. Within the next fifteen to twenty minutes it wouldn’t be as stiff, but she’d likely be at least a little wet. She hated that more. The spot she’d been sitting in had been taken by the remaining Pinks, with no one looking to budge. A pity as she’d been sitting in the perfect spot beneath the shade of an overhanging tree. Now she’d have to worm and wriggle her way back in. “Hey,” she realized, “Where’d my tablet go?” All the other Pinks stared down at their laps, pretending they hadn’t heard her. “Mother…!” Out of the corner of her eye, a flash of movement from the playground demanded Ai’s attention. A woman in nothing but a bright pink t-shirt, a sagging diaper, and white tennis shoes zoomed around on the playground. Or rather, she had been zooming. It was her sudden stop that caught Ai’s attention. She had a dark complexion- Ai would have guessed Indian at a glance- her eyes deep pools of brown and flowers in her hair. If not for the diaper, Ai would have thought her pretty. Speaking of her diaper, the girl was busy filling it. Her knees were slightly bent, her fists clenched, and those deep brown pools seemed distant for a second. Ai didn’t know how she knew the other girl was pooping. The thing around her hips was already so ballooned out and sagging that anything extra added to it would have been purely incidental by this point in time. Somehow she just knew. Then, as quickly as she stopped, the girl started zooming again, climbing up the nearest slide to go down it, the contents of her non-pants likely squishing and sloshing all around. But no one was coming to change her. No one was tattling or monitoring her. No one was stopping her from doing what she wanted to do in the moment. Was that…jealousy Ai was feeling? “Ew! Penelope pooped!” The same shrill voice as before sounded off. “EWWWWWWWW!’ Ai squealed, wanting to fit in. She pinched her nose and pointed her finger at the offending Pink. A lady in her thirties stood up and stomped her foot. “Tattletales!” With a huff, she stomped over to her Carer on a faraway bench to get cleaned up. Ai took her spot on the sandbox. And the girl’s forgotten tablet. ********************************************************************************************************* “Miss Maria! Miss Maria!” Winnie screamed. “Ai pooped again! She needs changed!” Ai rolled her eyes. “Really, Winnie?” Winne grinned, evilly. “What? You did, didn’t you? Or do you not know, anymore?” “None of us know,” Ai growled. “That’s kind of the point.” The straps on the other woman’s pink denim shortalls bobbed up and down with her shrug. “Just trying to help.” She ran off to Maria’s bench and started jawing, no doubt telling the Carer that Ai had just soiled herself (as if Maria hadn’t heard the first time). It was the weekend. Prior to this, Ai would normally have been enjoying herself and sleeping in. But she was too busy trying to catch up on work and dealing with brats like Winnie to enjoy it. No sleeping in, either. Winnie’s Carer was taking the day off, so the pair of Pinks were having a ‘playdate’ that would bleed over into a ‘sleepover’. Funny how the people who changed diapers got days off but the people trapped in them never did. In addition to her having to make an entire budget proposal one finger peck at a time, she now had to deal with this little pissant who had nothing to do but tattle and make a big deal about uncontrollable and insignificant things. That was enough for Maria. She walked over to Ai’s sandbox, picked her up, giving Ai’s bum a pat, confirming Winnie’s accusations. “Wow. You really do need a change!” Maria remarked. “What am I feeding you?!” Ai’s only solace was that the playground wasn’t as crowded on the weekends. Winnie came waddling up, holding Ai’s diaper bag. “Can I help change her, Miss Maria?” she asked, her voice completely aspartame. “Of course you may,” Maria said. “First be a dear and lay out the changing mat somewhere nice and flat.” Winnie did so, rifling through Ai’s bag and unfolding the vinyl backed mat on a patch of grass. “Good girl,” Maria praised. She laid Ai down and started popping the snaps open. “You can hand me the wipes packet and start unfolding the new diaper while I clean Ai up.” “Yes ma’am!” Ai felt her blood boil. She’d already lost count of how many people had seen her naked from the waist down, her messy bottom on display for all to see. But there was something so…so…intrusive about this stranger, this other Pink rifling through her diapers and supplies, acting as if she were any better than Ai. The entire time, Winnie stood over her, never breaking off eye contact while she handed the fresh diaper and then the powder to Maria. Ai held her tongue, not daring to back down. When the deed was done, Maria pulled Ai up to a sitting position. “You were very good,” Maria said. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Ai took the hint. “Thank you, Maria.” “You’re very welcome, sweetie. Is there anything you want to tell Winnie? She helped when she didn’t have to.” Ai almost swallowed her tongue. Winnie stood over her with her arms folded, her smile concealing a nasty sneer. “Th-th-thank you, Winnie.” Winnie parroted Maria. “You’re very welcome, sweetie.” Her parroting was rewarded with the Carer’s bubbling laughter. “Okay,” Maria declared, shooing. “Off you two go. Go play. Luna wants you to enjoy this time and have fun.” “Actually,” Winnie said. “I need help, too, Miss Maria.” Her eyes cast downward as she traced a circle with her foot. “I need a change, too. I think I’m about to leak.” Maria lit up. “Very good, Winnie! I’ll be happy to clean you up!” “Can I help?” Ai asked. She was already clumsily climbing to her feet and looking around, trying to find Winnie’s diaper bag. Turnaround was fair play. Except it wasn’t. “No,” Maria said simply. “That’s alright Ai. I know you have a lot of work to do. You should get back to it.” “But-!” A bottle was thrust in her face. “If you really want to help, drink your juice before it gets too warm. I can tell that you’re starting to get dehydrated. Let’s fix that, shall we?” “Yeah, let’s fix that!” Ai snatched the bottle and trudged back over to the sandbox and sat down with a harumph. She turned her head and watched Winnie get laid down on the bench, obscuring her form from three sides. She tilted the rubber nipple to her lip and started chugging the disgusting apple juice. Ai hated apple juice, it was by far the worst of all the common fruit juices. Orders were orders, though. If she ever wanted to have her status upgraded, she’d do as she was told without complaint until Luna had calculated that she was ready for more independence and responsibilities. “WAAAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The sound of inconsolable blubbering made Ai’s ears prick up. If Ai hadn’t known any better, she would have thought an actual child was crying save for the lower tones. Just behind her, out on the sidewalk, a stroller was passing by. Its lone occupant, a Pink, was screaming like the world was about to end. Ai tilted her head curiously to the side, unsure what to make of it. Most Pinks were quiet and demure in public, too embarrassed or contrite to make much of a scene. This girl’s screams were enough to turn heads. What was going on? The stroller stopped, and the person pushing it walked around and dropped to one knee so as to be at the Pink’s eye level. “What’s wrong, Bala?” the carer asked, her voice syrupy, loving and concerned. The girl, Bala apparently, made no reply. She just kept screaming. Her bare feet kicked the air inches away from the Carer’s face. It was hard to tell due to distance and angles, but Ai thought there was something vaguely familiar about the girl. “Is it your diaper?” the Carer asked. Ai watched her hand reach forward and check. “No. I don’t think it’s that. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? I just fed you. Do you want more?” She dug into the holstered diaper bag and offered up a bottle. The bottle went flying out of the Carer’s grasp and tumbled onto the grass near the sandbox. No one, including the Carer, paid it any mind. Pedestrians would turn their head towards the sound of the disturbance and the sight of thrashing limbs, but would quickly whip their heads the other way around once they confirmed what they were hearing and seeing as ‘none of their business’. Something similar had happened to Ai on her first day like this, but there was something…different. Despite herself, Ai leaned forward and picked it up. She walked carefully forward towards the Carer and the stroller’s occupant, the bulk of her diaper causing her to waddle and toddle all the way over. The Carer barely noticed. Once the bottle went sailing, she just kept digging in the bag. “Aya? Do you want your Aya? Is that it?” She took out a porcelain doll dressed in finery and waved it to get the screaming woman’s attention. The girl in the stroller stopped bellowing and took the doll. “Aya!” “Okay,” the Carer wiped the sweat from her forehead. “That was it. You just wanted your Aya.” “Excuse me,” Ai said right at the edge where the playground ended and the sidewalk began. She positioned herself so that she could see into the stroller proper. To her surprise it was the same girl from a few days ago, the ‘pooper’ who kept on playing without a care in the world. “Yes?” The Carer asked, expectantly. Ai’s reply was automatic and unthinking. Her mind and mouth were in two separate locations for all intents and purposes. “I think you dropped this.” She held out the bottle as far as she could from herself, nipple facing the Carer. The woman in the rose scrubs took it gratefully. “Thank you, dear. That was very kind of you.” She turned her gaze to the stroller. “Say ‘thank you’, Bala.” “No.” A gasp of surprise escaped from Ai. You could do that?! Say ‘no’ to a Carer? Saying ‘no’ to one of Luna’s agents was like refusing an order from Luna herself! It just wasn’t done! The girl was trapped in a stroller, had no home of her own, pissed and shit in herself uncontrollably every day, and couldn’t even feed or dress herself, yet she might as well be defying gravity. The Carer sighed and took her position behind the stroller. “Oh Bala, what am I gonna do with you little lady?” What indeed? *********************************************************************************************** “Ewww!” Ai shrieked. “Greggy pooped! Greggy pooped!” She pointed to the man in the sailor suit and scuttled away from him. “I heard it! I heard it!” Sounds like static bristled into the air as a dozen crinkling bottoms moved away from him. Fingers were pointed and noses were pinched. Ai was getting so good at this that although she’d barely heard the crinkling of the Pink’s diaper ballooning or his unconscious grunts, she instantly knew what was happening. “EWWWWWWW!” The boy burst out into sudden and shocked tears. Snot bubbles started forming and dripping out of his nose and all of his syllables turned into vowels. His Carer rushed over and checked him, pulling the waistband back and staring down inside of his pants. “Oh poor Greggy. Did you make a boom boom?” Inconsolable, Greggy nodded but continued blubbering incessantly. He was led by the hand away towards the public restrooms to be changed. “Can I help?” Ai offered, waiting to be praised. “No Ai,” the Carer sighed. “I’ve got this.” It was mildly disturbing that the Carer knew Ai’s name but not the other way around. Had she really been at this long enough to develop a reputation? “But-” “You’ve helped enough, dear. Go play.” Ai’s face fell and started to sizzle. What was she doing wrong? When someone else told on her they were praised. When she told on someone else, not so much. It didn’t make any sense. She went to take a step and get back to work on her tablet, but noticed how heavy her diaper felt. Today’s romper was really straining to hold the soggy thing up. With constantly worrying about the state of her underwear and the difficulties in working her tablet, Ai felt as if her workload had tripled, despite assurances from management that it had in fact gone down. Feeling drained and weary, Ai walked bowlegged to Maria. Maybe it’d be easy to work in a dry diaper. “Excuse me. Maria?” Maria looked up from her Harlequin romance novel. Her seventh since taking Ai into her care. “Yes?” “I’m very wet, ma’am. Could you please change me?” “Of course.” The change went as expected with Maria humming a jaunty little tune to herself while she went about wiping Ai’s nethers. Strange how routine it had all become. Routine enough that she was at least able to read work emails while her legs were up over her head and a cold wipe was cleansing and probing every nook and cranny. “There you go,” Maria chirped. “All done.” “Thank you.” “Good girl. Go play.” Ai stood up and stopped herself long enough to watch her Carer ball up and toss away the used diaper into a public garbage can. “Maria?” The tall, imposing Carer regarded her. “Yes dear?” “How much longer will I be stuck like this?” The Carer repeated the mantra again. “For as long as it’s needed.” “How long will that be?” “Go play, Ai. Go play.” She looked out onto the playground, viewing the Pinks who made no effort to have their status upgraded. Unlike literally everyone at the sandbox, they seemed happy somehow. What did they have that she lacked?

Cool (I say cool beans, all the time!)

Hello to all who took their time to comment on my question. Thanks for all your replies and analysis. On the weekend I was able to each out to the original author and got a short approval to post it. And I finished to type the last chapter that I added in the end. I will need to go over gramma and spelling once more before I may post it an some 2 or 3 weeks. As english is not my mother tongue I will take my time for that and its about 46000 Works and 100 pages (with a lot of new lines to make it readable). A lot of thanks also from LittleFenny for this explanation about the law behind that. As the first capers are really pretty similar, because it was where I started and were not to confident to deviate to a grater parts of the original story, The only thing apart of rewriting in my own words was that i added inner monologs to describe her feelings and padded out the plot where explanations and reasons where missing. So there, the degree of similarity is on a event to event basis and you can actually still compare each paragraph where something happens. In the later parts i just read the original and recreated another part that fit in the gap and it even has little to no connection to the original, with adding new events that happened, adding new days they where just skipped in the original, adding friendship. So it just the basic idea that is similar, and that is the reason I want to post it anyway. In the end i am glad that i got the approval from the original author. Again thanks a lot for all the comments that was a great help for me. Annie

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-Four: Your Mother’s ID Stacy had a blank look on her face as if she had been briefed in the car about what was going to happen. Aunt Sara didn’t say much. She just led her Niece to the couch. Once everybody was in the room including George, Aunt Sara started the questions. “Katie, why did you come home this weekend?” Katie pleaded that she just wanted to socialize with her parents and asked if she was allowed to do that. “Yes, you may, but you never have done that in your college years. You always came home because you wanted something or to do laundry,” Marlene explained. Katie figured the gig was going to be up sooner or later. She thought hard and slowly said, “I guess I just wanted to see if it was possible to be nineteen anymore for me.” With tears in her eyes, she continued, “I couldn’t do it at college because … it is hard to explain.” Sara, who was rubbing her adopted niece's back, said, “You regress easily around Tiffany, Allison, and the rest of your dorm mates?” “Yes, and the people I usually run into treat me young no matter what I look like,” Katie explained. Sara said slowly, “It probably didn’t work for you today because you ran into Stacy and me.” “I am not so sure. I was having a blast guiding my best friend around the zoo. I probably bored her with useless information.” Katie said with a smirk. Stacy exclaimed as she hugged her best friend, “Katie Ann! You couldn’t bore me even if you tried. I enjoyed those zoo facts.” “How old were you today, Sweetie?” Marlene asked. Katie explained that she hadn’t really paid attention, but since she was being a tour guide, she probably was her nineteen-year-old persona. She continued with, “I am sorry if I worried anyone with coming home. I wasn’t really honest with my reasons for it.” “We love you and could tell something was troubling you. We just were not sure what it was,” Marlene told her daughter. Sara continued, “The first thought was a fight with Adam, so we asked him…” “Daddie knows!?!?” Katie interrupted as she exclaimed. Auntie Sara, with a pained look, said, “And Allison and Tiffany.” All the, fighting to not regress, girl could say with a worried tone, “Oh.” Before continuing, “What changes from here?” Sara looked at Marlene as if she wanted her to answer that question. Marlene told her daughter, “As far as I know, nothing major has changed. You are still our sometimes nineteen-year-old daughter, sometimes seven-year-old granddaughter.” The last word caused Katie’s father to cough. Which earned him a glare from her before continuing, “No matter what happens, we love you, Princess." Auntie said to the Telgenhofs, "I hate to admit it, but from my angle, the seven-year-old side is winning." That statement caused the short girl to turn bright red. “You are still my best friend, brat,” Stacy said with her tongue out. Katie just responded with her own tongue and said, “Brat” back. “I am sure Mrs. Telgenhof has two corners I can borrow for two naughty girls,” Auntie told the girls. Katie held her hands in a circle above her head before saying, “I am an angel, Auntie Sara.” “How old do you want to be today, my Angel with devil horns?” Mother asked. Katie, after coughing and faking hurt, asked, “That depends. Is Stacy staying or leaving? If she is staying, the answer is yes; otherwise, nineteen. I still want to spend the weekend grown-up. Marlene and Sara almost simultaneously asked, “Yes?!?!” “Yes, for three reasons. One - I really want to be nineteen this weekend. Two - I didn’t bring a binder or any youthful-looking clothes. Never mind the fact that all my clothes are actually girls' clothes now, anyway. But … Three - I can almost certainly guarantee that I will be regressed around Stacy. That isn’t a bad thing, by the way.” “Since I don’t think it is fair for Marlene to cook for extra mouths with no notice, how about I take everyone out to eat.” Sara offered. “Before we go, Katie, is the diaper or pull-up dry?” She continued. Katie just looked at her feet and meekly said, “I am wearing panties.” “Won’t Adam be surprised when he does your laundry next weekend,” Auntie teased her niece. Seeing that her niece was sticking her tongue out, she tapped under her chin. Katie pouted for her punishment as she followed the group out of the house. All five were soon climbing into Sara’s Mini-Van to head to a nice sit-down restaurant. Sara had rearranged the boasters, so the two girls were sitting in the far back, leaving the middle seat for George. When they pulled into the Red Lobster in town, Marlene looked back at her husband with a slightly worried look on her face. The face didn’t go unnoticed by the driver. Sara told Marlene, “Don’t worry about the cost. I am paying.” George pleaded with Sara, “You don’t have to. I am sure your husband might not like this bill.” “Katie, who is your Uncle Sam?” Auntie asked. Katie answered nonchalantly, “Uncle Sam is State Congressman Sam Bullard.” “As Katie just indirectly pointed out, money is not an issue in my family. I will gladly pay for all five of us.” Sara said. Figuring they were not going to win the discussion, the Telgenhofs piled out of the car. George helped the girls out of the van before closing the back sliding door. As the small party walked up to the hostess's desk, the hostess asked, “Three adults and two kids, Ladies and Gentlemen?” Auntie looked at Katie for confirmation and got a slight nod yes from the little girl. She confirmed the hostess and followed them to a circular table. The girls were playing a game on the children’s menu when she made them decide what to eat. Stacy asked for the popcorn shrimp, while Katie asked permission to get the petite lobster tail. Once the regressed girl got permission, the girls went back to their game. Meanwhile, the adults were discussing the two girls' friendship and various other topics about them. ~o~O~o~ “Auntie?” Katie quietly asked away from Stacy. After she was acknowledged, she continued, “Can I take my little sister to Siblings weekend at college?” Auntie questioned when and got a reply: “First weekend after Thanksgiving.” “I don’t care, but who is going to watch you two? Ally or Tiff?” Auntie asked jokingly. Continuing, she said, “Get me all the details as soon as possible.” Katie faked hurt before sticking her tongue out at her Aunt. She immediately regretted it when she got the chin tap in response. She went to Stacy and said, “Little Sis, how would you like to come to Siblings Weekend at college?” A suddenly hyper Stacy hugged her best friend and, with vigor, said, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” ~o~O~o~ After Auntie had dropped the Telgenhofs off, the ladies headed to Katie’s room to help her get ready for bed. Soon she was probably protected for bed, so they went towards the TV to veg in front of it until it was time for bed. ~o~O~o~ After dinner after church the next afternoon, Katie decided to leave her dress on for the drive home. Marlene looked at her daughter in the lavender girl's dress, her hair in a braid with a lavender bow. She was starting to understand why people saw her daughter as a child. That girl she saw at the restaurant yesterday wasn’t the daughter she was used to seeing. One significant difference she noticed was that the girl was smiling about being treated like a child instead of frowning. After Katie had loaded the car, she said goodbye to her parents. Soon, she was on the road back to college. She had been on the road for maybe thirty minutes when she noticed cop lights in her rearview mirror. After she pulled over, the cop came up to the window and said, “Why did you take your mother’s car without permission, YOUNG GIRL.” The cop all but ignored the ID she was holding out. They said, “Your mother’s ID doesn’t do you any good. You follow me to my car while I go talk to my dispatcher.” Katie made sure to grab her phone before she followed the cop to open the passenger back door of the cop car. The cop stepped away to talk on his handheld. Katie, seeing how this conversation was going to go, decided that she better get Adam involved. Taking her phone from next to her, she told him when he answered, between tears. “Adam, I have been pulled over for underage driving in some small town on the way home. The cop refused to even look at my license.” “Katie Ann, calm down. Here is what you do when the cop comes back to tell him your lawyer wants to talk to him,” Adam told her softly. Katie noticed another cop car had driven up in the meanwhile. As if the officer was waiting for the cue, the other officer, who happened to be a lady, walked to where Katie was sitting. She knelt down so she was about the same height as the little girl. “You are not underage, are you? My fellow cop swears you are, but your plate and those bumps on your chest tell me you are not. What is your name? My name is Officer Lori.” “Katie Telgenhof, Ma’am” Lori asked, “Can I see your license, Katie?” “It is on the front seat of my car. I left it there when I followed him. My lawyer wants to talk to you two.” Katie answered as the other officer walked over. The first officer asked, “Why would a young girl have a lawyer?” “I told you already, she is not a young girl. I pointed out that note on the plate comments already to you. This is your baby. You talk to the lawyer.” The second officer mentioned as she went to get the license. Since the phone was in speaker mode, the first officer asked who he was talking to. When Adam identified himself, the officer got very distressed visually. “What can I do for you, Mr. Olsen.” “I would like to know why you are harassing my nineteen-year-old girlfriend. I would like to know why you didn’t run the plates per Article 57, section 2389. I would also like to know why you didn’t run or even look at her license per section 2309 of the same article.” Adam said firmly over the phone. The cop answered almost as if he knew he was in trouble, “I assumed she was underage. How do you know I didn’t run her plates anyway.” “If you ran the plates before you pulled her over as required by section 2389, you would see the note explaining that she wasn’t underage,” Adam explained. “I guess I will let her go on her way.” “Let me verify she is okay with going first. Let me remind you that this doesn't just disappear into thin air. Her Uncle, Congressman Sam Bullard, and I will be at your station in just over an hour to discuss this little incident.” That last statement caused both officers to visibly frown. Shaking, the cop handed the phone back to Katie and waited while the short girl talked to her Boyfriend. “Yes, Adam?” Softly, Adam asked her, “Are you okay, Buttercup, to drive back to college? If not, I will swing by and pick up Ally or Tiff on the way.” “I am not sure if I am fine, but I will make do for the half-hour drive. Ally and Tiff can’t drive my custom-modified car anyway. They are too tall for the controls. It would take too much effort for them to remove the modifications to drive it.” “Are you still in speaker mode, and is the officer still there?” “Yes, for both.” “Officer, What is your badge number?” The officer meekly answered, “Badge number 5637, sir.” “OK, Katie, I will see you Friday, drive safely. Call me when you get to Mountain. And I love you.” “I love you too, and I will.” With that said, Katie hung up the phone and asked the officer if she was free to go. After getting an affirmative, she accepted her license and went back to her car to continue on toward Mountain. ~o~O~o~ “Hello, Katie, how was the trip?” Ally asked her roommate. Katie answered, “One word, interesting.” “Besides the fact that it is three words, what do you mean?” "I expect Adam to call you to watch for me after my day today, but let's see: I guided Stacy around the zoo, got interrogated by Auntie and my Mother, and got pulled over by a cop who couldn’t see me as anything but a seven-year-old. Interesting!” “I see,” Ally said, almost as if she didn’t know what to say. Noticing the odd silence, Katie decided to fill it, “I am going to read a book before dinner to relax. Can you please diaper me before bed … Oh, before I forget it, I would like to be seven when I wake up.” Allison replied, “Either Tiff or I will deal with your bottom tonight. We will treat you as little Katie as we tuck you in bed.” Katie thought to herself, “That wasn’t what I said, but it works, I guess.”

Was in a thoroughly soaked Cushies Ultra earlier. Changed into a Kiddo to finish the night, only slightly wet.

Bear in mind that I'm not a mod on the site (and I think we should all thank whatever higher powers we believe in for that), but I was part of the discussion when the rules were drawn up. I'm not one hundred percent certain, so you might want to wait for an official ruling, but I believe we defined "adult" as both physically and mentally adult, and "underage" as not meeting one or both of these criteria. So to reply to your four examples, my guess would be : Probably yes (provided the boys in the example don't have any developmental issues and they are only behaving childishly). As to whether the "adult caregiver" is a close relative or not... Well, that's a different kettle of fish. Maybe (It would probably depend on how the younger character goes about pretending to be a preteen. After all, I can't think of too many eighteen-year-olds that make believable twelve-year-olds, let alone even younger.) I'd guess almost certainly a hard no. And the fact that you yourself put "consentual" in quotation marks should tell you that you knew the answer to this one. Also, saying that a well-known author wrote a story like that doesn't make it better. A lot of things have been done before without that making them OK. Definitely no. Physically and mentally adult means just what it says. Now, like I said, I'm not a mod, but since it's been almost a week since you posted your questions, I figured you should get some kind of answer, even if it is technically unofficial. I'm sure that if I got anything wrong, the mods will post a corrected ruling.

"Sweetie, don't make Mommy mad!" "Well if I'm supposed to be a brat who needs to go to the Delinquant Daycare, then maybe I should play the role better," he was going to say. However, instead he got through "Well if... MMPH!" before another heaping load of beans was pushed into his open mouth. He glared at her. She glared back. He opened his mouth and spat out the beans back down his bib. "WAHH WAHH!" he shouted, rolling his eyes back. "Since I'm such a BRATTY BABY I've decided I don't want to eat Mommy's beans anymore! " "HEY!" she shouted, scooping the beans back up and shoving htem in again. "You eat that like a good baby!" He spat them out again. "But Mommy, I CAN"T be a GOOD baby if I'm going to the DELINQUENT DAYCARE. That's only for BAD BABIES. How can I be a good baby if I'm going there!" "OHHH YOU BRAT!" she said. "DO AS YOU"RE TOLD!" He turned his mouth away from another spoonfull, dodging it with his head left and right. "I can't! I have to be a bad baby since I'm going to the Delinquent Daycare! Only good babies do as they're told! This must be NORMAL for you!" She grabbed his head and held it in place as she pushed a spoonfull in. In reasponse, he lifted an arm up and swung it accross the high chair's table, knocking the food to the floor. "Oh you bad baby!" she shouted. She waved the spoon at him. "You are going to eat that off the floor, then you are going to the daycare where they will teach you how to be a good baby for your Mommy!" She said it again in the same tone of voice as earlier, as if quoting it off their website. "NO!" He shouted. He grabbed at the high chair table and shook it. "I'M A BAD BABY WHO NEEDS TO GET PUNISHED AT A MEAN DAYCARE! I'M GOING TO BEHAVE LIKE ONE! WAHHH!!" She slammed her arms down on the table to stop his shaking then put the plate, halfhazardly recovered with the food from the ground, back in front of him. He leaned back with his arms folded and glared at her, and she glared back. She pointed at the plate. "Now, listen buster. You are going to eat every bite of this food I made you are I will dump it straight into your diaper, then you'll HAVE to behave if you want a diaper change, so I'll make you eat a double portion. Make. Your. Choice." He knew it must look ridiculous to see him glaring while sitting in a high chair, wearing a bib, t shirt, and diaper, but he didn't care so he glared harder. Deciding on something more fitting, he stuck out his toung and blew "PHBBTTT!" at her, making sure to get some spittle on her face, and letting the eloquence of his counterargument speak for itself. She wiped it off carefully. "Ok, if that's the way you want to play it, one bean filled pamper coming up." She leaned toward him, pulled his back away from the high chair, and lifted the plate up. "NO NO NO I"LL EAT IT NO... AGGGHHH!" he shouted as the sloppy mess was dumped into his underwear. He leaned away from her and pushed his back against the chair, only to see her with his open baby bottle held in front of him. "No I'm sor.... EEEEP!" he shrieked as the smoothie was dumped into the front of his diaper. "Oh my god that's so cold on my freaking dick holy f..." "No swearing or your next meal will be a soap bar." "Fudgsicles. Cold like fudgeicles," he said. He settled back down into the diaper and felt the mixture of cold and warm food. "Ewww, this is even grosser then my normally messy diapers." "Mhmm," she said. "I think anyone with a nose and who isn't wearing them would disagree. So you'll finish your plate?" He sighed and hung his head. "Yes Mommy," he said, and she went back into the kitchen to cook again. He drummed his fingers on the high chair as he watched her, thinking of his options. He knew he would end up in the Delinquent Daycare of course. There was no changing that, espescially since she had already paid, and it seem at least a bit exciting. He had read into it before. It was explicitely an adults only kink service, simmilar to a dominatrix or BDSM dungeon. They had full facilities where they promised to bring submissives to their knees, generally themed diapers and littles. The punishments they described seemed to be all well above what he'd normally get, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested in pushing boundaries. However, there was no way he was going to let his Mommy off scott free for sending him there. She had effectivly checkmated his earlier bratting with the food-in-diaper manuever, as his role meant he'd normally never change his own diaper while his Mommy, and he didn't want to be in it for too long. With most of his dirty diapers, he had a play against her by using his smell to make her want him changed to, but he sensed that the smell of bacon and mixed berries wouldn't have the same effect. So, for now, if he wanted a diaper change, he needed to be a "good boy." However, she would have to change him before they left, which would give him plenty of opportunity for more bratting latter without the threat, and also knowing since they'd be driving to the nursery there wouldn't be much time for reprisal. If she tried to make him stay in it longer, he'd argue that their agreement on no dirty diapers in public unless he agreed should include "dirtiness" from undigested food as well as its digested counterpart. She put the plate in front of him, interrupting his plotting. She pushed a spoon toward him and said "Open for the choo choo train!" He opened his mouth and stuck his toung out while keeping his arms still folded. "New vehicle this time? Did the plane crash?" He said with a mouth full of food. "Nope! They've arrived at the airport and are heading to the hotel! Here comes a taxi from the train station!" He swallowed another spoonfull. He ate until his stomach was bloated and full, and finished the plates.

When I put myself in Kelly's head... yeah, she's upset.

24 HOURS FROM TULSA Oh, I was only twenty four hours from Tulsa Ah, only one day away from your arms I hate to do this to you but I love somebody new, what can I do? Gene Pitney (1963), Dusty Springfield (1964) . . . . Ian leaned back, closed his eyes, and allowed his taste buds to take control of his senses. A pastrami sandwich with all the trimmings was a treat at the best of times, but coming on top of a steady diet of breast milk, it was nirvana. “Real food,” he sighed contentedly, “real food!” When he opened his eyes, he saw that Priscilla was staring at him strangely. “What?” “The look on your face. Ian, your resilience ...” Priscilla shook her head, trying to come to terms with it. “A half hour ago, you were in so much pain that I was fighting to hold back the tears, and there were a couple of times when it took everything I had not to throw up in your trash can. And now?” She continued to shake her head. “Now, here we are, eating a late lunch in my favorite deli, acting as if nothing terrible had ever happened to either one of us. I'm sitting here trying to process the strangest day in my whole life, and I'm not having much luck.” After changing Ian's diaper, she had led him out to her cruiser and driven directly to the deli, parking in the slot reserved for her mother at the rear of the building. Sitting at the small table, sandwiches, chips and beverages spread out in front of them, the only thing that seemed out of place was Priscilla's uniform. In every other respect, they appeared to be a young couple who had taken advantage of a late winter afternoon lull to duck in out of the cold and enjoy each other's company. “I'm afraid it's about to get stranger still,” Ian grimaced. He took a sip of his coffee, and was surprised to see that his hand wasn't shaking. “How so?” Priscilla leaned across the table, drawing closer to him. The intimacy of the gesture warmed her. Ian's smile, she now realized, had always been tinged with sorrow, with regret, the sometimes visible face of a broken heart. She longed to take him in her arms, to hold him close, and somehow to make all the pain go away. “I made love to you without thinking about the consequences. And they're real. Seriously, Priscilla, what I laid out for you wasn't theoretical; it's going to happen.” “No regrets, Ian … for either of us. One of the things I'm trying to process is my feelings for you. I'm nor ashamed of them, and I'm not going to apologize-- to Sarah, or anyone else.” “Good, because I don't want you to. And if anyone asks you straight out, just say da.” Priscilla's laugh was heartfelt. “I'm glad you feel that way because I don't think either one of us could deny it with a straight face!” “My thoughts exactly,” Ian grinned. “So, here's what I'm thinking.” He leaned forward, further closing the distance between them. “The security team will be organized into outer and inner perimeters, and when there are women and small children involved, the standard procedure is to have an all-female team on the inside, led by someone local with police experience. I'm pretty sure that Donnie would agree to make you the principal agent, but it would mean living on site … after completing the standard training course at Quantico, with a bit of supplemental training tossed in to fit the specific situation. The basic course is thirty-three days, and the supplemental would probably occur on site. Think you can live without me for a month?” “How on site is on site?” The twinkle in Priscilla's eyes told Ian that she was already sold, if only for the fringe benefits. “In the bedroom next to the target, which initially will be Sarah. By the way, I expect to be comfortably situated in one of the cribs that I occupied in the psych ward. The odds are good that a bedroom will be converted into a nursery, with me the sole occupant. Could get lonely in there.” The twinkle in Ian's eyes told Priscilla that Ian was not about to end their relationship. “And would this nursery of yours have a changing table, where I could look after you properly?” The twinkle in Priscilla's eyes had turned positively devilish. “Count on it … and perhaps one of those miniature refrigerators to house my ba bas.” His cock was straining to get hard inside its diapered prison. “Well, free room and board … and a course at Quantico would look awfully good on my resume ...” “But can I survive without you for a whole month? You've already made it clear that nobody else on the force would be willing to change my shitty diaper.” Ian was rather glad that the deli was all but deserted this late in the afternoon. “Suzie Marshall might be willing ...” “Can't see Sarah giving her the key. Besides, she probably isn't pistol trained. City girls just don't know their guns.” “Well, I could ask Mom; she doesn't have much to do in December, knows a good pistol when she sees one, and has definitely changed the odd diaper.” “Might make your dad jealous ...” Ian snapped his fingers. “How about one of those cute coeds camping out at the office? Maybe for extra credit.” “Hmm … nope … too late in the term. Sorry.” “Know any nannies packing heat?” “Not really … wait … Harriet's a possibility. She definitely wants to get in your pants, and her uncle is a notorious gangster. She may know what to do with a loaded gun.” “In my current state, make it a double action.” “Cocked and loaded, are you? Ready to fire?” “Not sure about the pin … might need some tender, loving care.” Just needs a little oil … a bit of pampering.” “Pampering is always good ...” Priscilla reached out to clasp the back of Ian's neck, and pulled him forward. “Such a baby,” she murmured, as she kissed him full on the lips, holding him tightly in her grasp. “But don't worry. A month at Quantico will go by fast, and then Mommy will always be here to change your shitty diaper. Da?” “Da.” . . . . “One more stop and we can call it a day,” Sarah announced. She turned around in her seat, and double checked to make sure that Vickie's seat belt was properly fastened. “Where to?” Rita was making her way slowly down the aisle. The accident rate in snow bound mall parking lots was staggering. “Mom says that we need to visit a shop in the northern suburbs. They apparently have a nice array of spanking implements that will encourage our babies to be more obedient.” “Works for me,” Rita shrugged as she glanced in the rear view mirror to see how Vickie was reacting. She wasn't particularly surprised to see that their colleague was staring aimlessly out the window, and paying no attention whatsoever to the frank discussion of corporal punishment underway in the front seat. When it came to paddling the rear end, Rita suspected that there was precious little to be left to Vickie's imagination. “Did you think that she was a bit too cruel,” Rita continued. “Who?” Sarah wasn't sure who they were talking about. “The lady running the store. It's one thing to leave that boy in the storeroom in a diaper and baby pants, sucking on a pacifier, while she rang up our purchase. But taking his trousers with her, and calling his mother to come pick him up? I don't know about that.” “Well, if the mother sent him to the store in the first place, obviously there's no harm done. But if he lied about that … if he's acting out some kind of baby fetish behind her back, it's better for her to find out now rather than later. Rita, you of all people know that reality rarely measures up to fantasy, especially adolescent fantasy. If she indulges him … starts sending him to school in diapers and treating him like a baby at home, he might decide that his fantasy isn't all that he thought it would be, and he'll move on. But if this is what he really wants, either she takes her new baby home and helps him come to terms with his infantile desires, or they end up in counseling. Either way, Tommy comes out ahead.” “I suppose so,” Rita reluctantly conceded, “but I hope that his diaper holds up. When his mother walks through the door, that poor kid is going to pee up a storm!” “They'll probably have to pry his pacifier loose with a crowbar,” Sarah laughed. “And I can't wait to slip Ian's pacifier into his mouth when we get home. It will get a real workout when I'm spanking his baby butt! How about you, baby girl?” Sarah twisted around in her seat, and licked her lips as she thought about what she had in store for Vickie. “You're so naughty that I'm not even going to bother spanking you. Nope. I'm going straight to the paddle, or perhaps I'll graduate to the cane that I'm going to buy at our next stop. Mom says that it might be the only thing that will get your attention. We'll see, baby girl; we'll see. But don't worry! You'll have your binkie to calm your tears!” . . . . Priscilla peeked at her watch, then stood up. “Be right back,” she said; “I'm going to call Mom, and see how things are going on her end.” Waving at the guys behind the counter, Priscilla opened a door marked MANAGER, and disappeared inside, leaving Ian to salivate over the next bite of his pastrami sandwich. While he ate, he was also thinking about his next talk with Donnie Freeman. Ian well understood that it was not in the Agency's best interest to find his daughter, for the simple reason that he would cease working for Langley the moment Linh arrived on his doorstep. When he had refused the latest Polish mission, he had in effect cast a formal vote of no confidence in a community that he had distrusted since adolescence. He was pinning his hopes on the Russians, but he wasn't quite ready to write the DC crowd off completely. Rita, Vickie and Sarah gave him three cards to play in this convoluted game, and Priscilla's admission that they were lovers had just added a fourth. As long as the Agency could keep control, Donnie would have been perfectly happy to learn that he was sleeping with every woman who crossed his path. Sex was merely a means, children the end. Ian concluded that pitching Priscilla to the Agency would be like tossing bloody meat into shark infested waters. The outcome was a foregone conclusion. . . . . “Fantasy Island?” Rita did a double take as she pulled into the lot. It was obviously a shop selling “marital aids,” but with a hardware store on one side and an Asian supermarket on the other, it looked distinctly out of place. “Yep. Mom says that this is the place to shop in the Twin Cities when you're looking for adult toys. Baby girl, have you been here?” Sarah would have bet a healthy sum that Vickie had an account here. After all, her wands had to come from someplace, and if her mom was right, this was the most likely source. “Uh huh,” Vickie muttered. She left it at that. “Well,” Sarah smiled brightly, “let's get you unbuckled, and then you and Auntie Rita can come inside with me, and we'll see what they have to offer!” Vickie waited for Sarah to unfasten her seat belt, and then slid out of the car. She needed a diaper change, and she knew that the shop had a restroom, but she was hoping to avoid the humiliation of being changed in public. She fervently hoped that she wasn't leaking. Vickie's heart sank the moment they walked through the door. She had done business with the young lady behind the counter on more than one occasion. “Victoria! It's good to see you again! And you've brought friends. Welcome!” “Hi, Jessica. Uh, these are two of my friends from work, Sarah and Rita.” Vickie nodded to left and right. “Sarah's in the market for an upscale paddle and a cane. Last time I checked, you had a really good selection.” “Right this way,” Jessica beamed. “Tell me how much you want it to hurt, and I guarantee you that we've got what you need. On a scale of one to ten, think two for an over the knee spanking, four for a ping pong paddle, five for a paddle with holes, and eight for a birch cane.” “Well,” Sarah laughed, “neither spankings nor paddling seems to have got my boyfriend's attention, so I want to move up. I'll need both the paddle with holes, and a cane.” “Good choices! I'd also like to sell you a whip, which comes in at ten, and I'll toss in a mannequin free of charge. If you haven't used a whip before, you really want to practice before turning it loose on your boyfriend. Whips and chains are not for amateurs, but once you master the whip, it will always be your first choice. Does he need a chastity cage?” “Do you sell them?” Sarah was getting really excited. “We have everything from cheap stuff that's good only for a bit of role playing to state of the art, stainless steel devices that can't be defeated, and with locks that can't be picked. Absolute control is guaranteed, or your money back!” “Fantastic! Show me … show me … show me! The best that you've got!” Jessica opened a case near the cash register, and brought out a life size replica of the male genitalia, and a small but brightly colored cardboard box. Opening it, she placed a ring and sheath on the counter, with a key that was already attached to an odd shaped lock. Reaching back into the case, she hauled out a small plastic piece whose purpose was anything but obvious. “Here's how it works,” she explained. “You squeeze the guy's balls inside the ring, and ratchet it closed, just like a handcuff. You want it tight, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation. Then, you slide his penis into this sheath; the best way to go about it is to tie a piece of string behind the head with a slip knot, and ease it into place. Next, slide this plastic cover into place on top of the penis; it will prevent pull out, which is the only thing that can defeat the device. Line up these two holes and these two pins like so, insert the lock, which is housed inside the ring, turn the key, and pull it out. That's all there is to it. Just ice his penis down first; the maximum length the cage will take is one inch. Oh, and for permanent chastity, just fill the lock with solder. Give him a choice between permanent chastity and a whipping, and I guarantee that he will beg you for the whip.” “Wonderful! I mean, really … wow! Thank you so much for your help; you've really got everything that I need. Now, could you do me a favor? My baby girl probably needs her diaper changed. If I get her diaper bag out of the car, do you have someplace I can change her?” Jessica looked around, not catching on to what Sarah was talking about. Then she stole a glance at Vickie's bottom, and broke out into a big smile. “Oh, yes, Sarah, changing your baby's dirty diaper won't be a problem. You can use the storeroom; there's a work bench in there that will nicely serve as a changing table. By the way, I'm Jessica!” “It's nice to meet you, Jessica … and again, thank you for all your help. Dealing with two naughty babies is really stressing me out, but with your help I'll finally have a fighting chance of bring them to heel.” “It's my pleasure, and if you ever need a babysitter, just give me a call.” Jessica handed Sarah a card with both her home and work telephone numbers. "And if you ever want to have a weekend free, I'd love to look after both of them. This one is such a cutie!” Jessica reached out to tickle Vickie's cheek. Sarah reached into her bag, brought out Vickie's pacifier, and slipped it into her mouth. “Baby girl just loves her binkie,” Sarah declared; “she finds it very soothing.” “Why don't you take her to the storeroom and get her undressed,” Rita suggested. “I'll fetch her diaper bag, and join you in a minute.” “Good idea,” Sarah crowed. “Come on, baby girl, let's go change your diapee!” . . . . When Priscilla returned to the table, she beat Ian to the punch. “Mom's sitting in the school parking lot across the street from your building. She's got a clear view of the entrance to your lot, but she says that the snow is piled so high on one old beater with California plates that she can't see all the way to the end of it. Somebody needs to get out there and clean that rust bucket off!” “I'll mention it to the owner the next time I run into him,” Ian said in his best deadpan voice. “If his girlfriend is the outdoors type, maybe he can con her into doing it for him.” “Might take a bribe.” “Rumor has it that the guy's just a big baby. He might get by with nursing on Mommy's titties.” “Be a step up from the bottles of breast milk that are his daily lot. I know for a fact that he's a tit man.” “The real question is whether he can keep his end up.” “You would have to ask his girlfriend about that.” “The last time I saw her, she had this big shit-eating grin on her face. If I had to guess, I'd say that the guy's got the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.” “I want to make love to you ...” “We could go to your apartment … no … wait … bad idea. Mom's got your place under surveillance. Really bad idea.” “Yeah.” Ian let out a deep, regretful sigh, and slipped out of Priscilla's grasp. “We should be prepared to back her play. You're a cop, and I'm a secret agent who needs to get his toy back. Who else is in on this gig?” “My boss, Chief Mischof … and he's big on dramatic entrances. Trust me … he'll show up with lights flashing, siren blaring … it's quite a show.” . . . . “Rita, I have to get back to work; remember, through Tuesday next, I'm covering the first half of Heidi's shift.” Sarah was thinking about the tasks ahead. “So, on Friday, the two of you will have to deal with Ian's apartment without me. Can you manage?” “We'll manage.” In her usual thorough way, Rita had already gathered enough boxes to pack up Ian's kitchen, bathroom and closets. She would find out on Thursday whether he had the original boxes for his stereo and TV, or needed replacements. Amos would load whatever she and Vickie left behind Friday night on his truck late Saturday morning, and dump it in her garage to be sorted out later. She would deal with Ian's artwork, far the most valuable of his few possessions, personally. “And will you help, baby girl, or are you just going to get in the way?” “We'll get it done,” Vickie shrugged. “Providing that disaster doesn't strike on Saturday night, are we still planning to tackle my apartment on Sunday?” “Absolutely.” Sarah couldn't wait to see the look on Vickie's face when she discovered that her bed was gone, and realized that she would be sleeping in one of their hospital cribs forevermore. She planned to put the cribs back to back, so that Vickie and Ian could touch and even kiss, but nothing more. With his cock safely locked inside the chastity device, her baby husband would experience a level of frustration that she would alleviate only in exchange for his obedience. She was going to enforce the D/s contract that he had signed-- enforce every word of it. “Jessica's offer reminds me that we do have to think about babysitters for our little ones,” Sarah noted. She was talking to Rita, and making a point of ignoring Vickie completely. “After all, they'll be times when we want to do grown-up things by ourselves. Do you think that Jessica would make a good babysitter?” “It depends on her schedule, but if she's free when we need her, I would certainly try her out. I've been worrying about babysitters because I would expect Ian to try and charm them right out of their panties. Once we have him locked in that chastity cage, a lot of my worries are going to disappear.” “So, you agree with my plan to keep him under lock and key?” “Absolutely. If we're going to have babies, I don't want him touching himself, and I certainly don't want him having sex with other women. We're going to keep him very busy, so he will need to conserve his energy to satisfy us.” “Ian is still my patient,” Vickie growled from the back seat, “and I fully intend to complete his treatment successfully. Both of you have a role to play here, or have you forgotten?” “Not at all,” Rita smoothly countered. “Manny and I will get together sometime on Friday and set dates for the 'diaper your favorite nurse' auction. If the sessions take hold, all three of us will be able to summon Princess Poopy Pants at will. Working together, Vic, the three of us should be able to trigger a breakthrough with less risk than if you try it alone. Once he's stable, we can keep the Princess in reserve to help him through future crises.” “At least once I'd like to repress the Major and allow the Princess to enjoy life for a while,” Sarah added. “Who knows? We might discover that we like the Princess better, and want to spend more time with her!” . . . . “Let's sneak across the road,” Ian suggested. “There's a bank of pay phones off the hospital's main lobby. I'll ring Donnie, and if you want, you can track Amos down in the ER and confirm that everything's ready for tomorrow night.” “Sounds like a plan; let's do it.” What Priscilla really wanted to do was find a vacant hospital room. Making love with Ian had left her horny as hell. Rip his clothes off, ditch the canvas chastity belt, pray that his diaper was poop free, and then make mad, passionate love to the first man to excite her since her brief but torrid affair with her eleventh grade biology teacher. Not for the first time, Priscilla asked herself what the hell was wrong with Sarah. She had somehow latched on to a great guy, and yet she treated him like crap. Did she think that he could be taken for granted because of his diapers? Given that she was sharing him with two of her friends, that seemed unlikely in the extreme. Whatever her motive, Suzie Marshall wanted Ian badly, and Vickie wasn't having it. Their rivalry was common knowledge. Ian had had a brief fling with his department secretary, and neither of them was treating it like some deep, dark secret. The lady running his diaper service was clearly in the market for a husband, and just as clearly believed that Ian would fit the bill quite nicely. Ian was wounded in body and spirit, but he was gentle and loving-- a combination so potent that it amounted to an aphrodisiac. And Sarah hadn't simply spanked him … she had paddled him! What the hell is wrong with this woman? In the lobby, Priscilla assured Ian that she could find the ER without difficulty-- in fact, it had been only two weeks since her last visit, when she and another officer had transported a professor who had collapsed in his office from a kidney stone attack. Amos welcomed her with open arms, and assured her that he had already cached the supplies that they would need for the upcoming drinking contest. He was raring to go, and no, he would not agree to man up and wear a diaper. He wanted to give the other team a fighting chance, or at least the illusion of one. Male pride, Priscilla sighed, stubborn male pride. Still shaking her head, she headed back to the lobby. . . . . “I recognize the area code, but not the number. That you, Street?” “In the flesh, Donnie. Calling from a pay phone in the hospital where Sarah works. Everybody having fun back there?” “At your expense, you mean? Sure. Setting aside the worrisome fact that one of our most senior agents can pick up the phone and call Irina Orlov whenever he feels like it, your love life is the talk of the building. If you're taking pills, the Director wants the prescription. Seriously, Street. Four women? Where do you find the time, never mind the energy?” “No pills, Donnie. Sorry, but it's simply a matter of self-discipline.” “Yeah, right. Cook up something a bit more convincing, and the Director will cover the cost of your honeymoon out of petty cash. By all means, take all four of the lovely ladies with you to Athens, have a heart to heart with Irina, and then move on to that quaint little hotel you told me about on Santorini. Get Irina to give us a bit of raw meat, and it's a legit expense. Gotta keep the bean counters happy, know what I mean?” “Helps to have something to offer in trade.” “How about we loosen the travel restriction for their embassy personnel a bit? Say another fifty miles?” “I'll make the offer, but it would be nice to have some leeway. Say … oh … a hundred?” “We can live with that, but we'd have to have something meaningful in return. And I'm not talking about bathtub vodka.” “About Priscilla … Julia's daughter ...” “Listening.” “Not to get too far ahead of the curve, but we may need a security officer in house. She's the logical choice, and she's receptive to the idea of visiting Quantico.” “Sweet. You sure you can survive without your nanny for a month, plus?” “Not really. She treats me like royalty. Diaper changes are a real treat.” “It's hard to tell on the recording, Street. How did she handle the truth?” “A couple of bad moments, but she hung in there. She gives me hope.” “You got a plan for the encore?” “Saturday night. Priscilla is urging me to do a bit of editing, but otherwise to give the same account.” “Ian, they have to know. There's no getting around this … they have to know.” “Yeah. And one of these days, I need to apologize to Emily.” Ian was badly startled when he felt an arm drape across his shoulders. Mushy poop was exploding into his diaper as he looked to his right. Seeing Priscilla, he grinned with relief, and turned to kiss her lightly on the lips. Priscilla's arm dropped, to wrap around his waist. It felt so good simply to hold him tight. “Got to go,” Ian said as his attention shifted back to the telephone. “I'll call you at home on Sunday, and share the highlights.” . . . . “Am I the only one who thinks that Sarah could use some professional help?” From the back seat, Vickie was watching her colleague exit the parking garage, holding the box containing one of the breast pumps to her chest. “I mean, really, what's she going to say when someone yells out 'hey Sarah, need help? What's in the box'?” “Considering that we're all going to add a full cup size to our bras,” Rita replied defensively, “there's not a lot to be gained by keeping this a secret.” “So, you want us to follow her over hill and dale, all the way to the seventh floor? I can see it now … 'yeah, folks, that's right. We don't have babies. We're not pregnant. But gee, we thought it would be so much fun to breast feed the boy friend that we're all sharing, so the three of us are going into the milk production business'. Think that might get our Director's attention?” “You have a point. Maybe we should come back around … say … 2 AM?” “And in the meantime, have you noticed that I'm sharing the backseat with a friggin' mannequin? A MANNEQUIN? That crazy bitch wants to lock our boyfriend in a chastity cage, keep the key, and graduate from spankings and paddling to caning and … ta da … a whip. Rita, this is nuts! Please … pretty please … tell me that you are not good with this!!!” “Of course not! For God's sake, Vic, calm down! Do I have to remind you that yesterday Sarah had all the keys to your diaper cover, and today I've got one in my purse? Here!” Rita reached into her bag, grabbed the key, and handed it over. “I'll get your diaper bag out of the trunk. Go home. Take a shower. Have something to drink. I'll give you sixty to ninety minutes, then I'll drop by to lock you in a fresh diaper and send you on your way. You are going to Sarah's tonight, right?” “Right. The game plan seems to call for spankings all around, and I've already got a diaper rash. My usual kinky fun this ain't gonna be.” “Not much I can do about the rash. My advice is to keep going with your bratty toddler routine. Sarah seems to be lapping it up, and you've got me convinced that this is the real you!” “Well, of course it's the real me! I am a brat, and I need my mommy. What I don't need is a sadistic bitch ruining my life, or Ian's. This D/s crap has to be shelved until after we've managed his breakthrough. Until then, it's counterproductive.” “I wholeheartedly agree!” “Then prove it.” “How?” “Tomorrow night. Amos and Ian want to tie one on, and Priscilla has set up a drinking contest with a bunch of cops in a bar up northeast. It's pretty much drink until you pass out, and whoever pisses his or her pants first has to buy the next round. The four of us are challenging the best the cops can put up, and Priscilla is going to wear a diaper to give us the edge. But my diaper will be soaked before we begin … unless you come along and change me just before we get started.” “Are you suicidal? Sarah will skin both of you alive!” “Rita, I think Ian is having second thoughts about his relationship with Sarah … serious second thoughts. He's signed on to become her baby husband, not an abused slave. She's changing the rules after the game's begun, and he's not having it. Look, I want the man, not the baby; you can have the baby all to yourself. Push comes to shove, we don't need Sarah. Between the two of us, we can see to all of Ian's needs. So, are you in or out?” “In,” Rita sadly admitted. “But you have to buy me some time to try and sort this out. I'll stop by the bar and change your diaper, but then I'm going to lock you up for the duration. Take your punishment, even if it's extreme. If Sarah does overreact, I can use that to play the honest broker. I don't want to lose a friend, but she's letting her fantasies run wild, and it has to stop. If she doesn't come to her senses and Ian asks for our help, I'll do what I think is in his best interest.” . . . . Sarah was crossing the lobby, heading for the corridor and the elevator that would whisk her up to the third floor. She was planning to activate the breast pump, and make sure that the mechanical beast actually worked. A twenty minute break, which she would take in another hour or so, would give her a chance to try it out. Glancing to her right, she saw a man talking on one of the bank of public telephones beyond the receptionist's desk. Her pace slowed as she looked him over. He was facing away from her, but she would have sworn that it was Ian, although she couldn't imagine what would have brought him to the hospital. Moments later, a young policewoman came into view, her face lighting up with a smile as she drew near the pay phone. Priscilla, Sarah said to herself, remembering yesterday's events. Her name is Priscilla. She watched as Priscilla's arm reached out to grasp the man's shoulders. The man turned, his face startled at first but then settling into a welcoming smile. He kissed her lightly on the lips. It was Ian. Priscilla's arm dropped, to wrap around Ian's waist. Possession. Sarah's world collapsed around her. Blindly, fighting to hold back the tears, the breast pump mocking her every step, she stumbled on across the lobby and down the corridor to await the elevator. Mercifully, it was otherwise empty as she made the brief journey to the third floor, and took refuge behind the closed door of her office. Turning on the radio, which was always tuned to her favorite country and western station, Sarah collapsed into her chair. The breast pump now forgotten, she crossed her arms and lowered her head to the desk. Quietly, she began to sob. Perversely, almost as if a demon was taunting her, a tune began to play softly in the background, a song about love lost, sudden and unexpected … The jukebox started to play And night time turned into day As we were dancing, closely, All of a sudden I lost control as I held her charms And I caressed her, kissed her, Told her I'd die before I would let her out of my arms Oh, I was only twenty four hours from Tulsa ... Soon, Sarah's tears began to flow.

Welcome !

Puppyz No I would go whenever I felt the urge, before, after, same time. Didn’t matter. I think his mum knew that we enjoyed it so she would let us sit in a messy diaper or pants for at least 10-15 mins. If we were in diapers she would let us pee them until they were really sagging. Sleep overs were the best.

Benny is a bit nervous about walking down the street in just a diaper and shirt, but he gets to choose who he walks with, and that makes him excited. "Can Ms. Beth walk with us? Pwease?" He asks her as he grabs her hand (Oh wow. I guess that is humiliating. Like in a way you wouldn't think about)

Beth: "Oh, you're welcome, Benny. It's just what any good babysitter would do. You don't have to thank me" Mommy: "And why did she have to change you Benny?"

"Yes, Daddy" (Good for me. No limits here. I like to really feel like a baby)

Mommy puts Benny's legs down. Beth tapes his diaper up. Mommy gives Daddy the stinky bundle to Daddy to throw away. He rolls the bundle up, puts it in a bag, and heads toward the nearest trash can

I absolutely love it! That's one very wholesome moment and some happy memories! Chapter Ten Amanda picked up the sleeping little and shuffled him from propped against her chest to laying against her with his head next to her and lightly brushed his back, whispering softly to him “I sure hope you aren't as scared of loud amazons as I think you will be. Your Aunt Cat is a bit much." She picked up the sippy cup with her left hand and held it up toward the light. He had barely made a dent in it. He probably didn't even realize he'd been awake as long as he had, and that was after everything he had been through yesterday. Well. Time to get some work done. She stood up and carried him with her as she went and put the cup back in the fridge, and walked back over to where the comforter was still folded in half on the floor. Not really wanting to put him down, she walked over to her spare bedroom and opened the door to it look inside. Inside the room she looked at the day bed that she had been given by her friend Cat when she moved in. It had three sides, but what if he rolled off of the front in his sleep? Maybe she could get some sort of attachment for the bed and he could have a big bed all to himself. There was a writing desk and a chair, but that was much too high for him. Oh well, that is a problem for tomorrow. Walking back to the living room she gave up and knelt down on the comforter. “Xerxes” she whispered. The dog needed no further prompting to walk over to the comforter and lay down on it, his tail thumping softly up and down against it. As she laid her charge down and covered him back up, she sighed. “Yeah, we have to get you to the city tomorrow and get you registered so that no one can take you away. And I probably need to tell the research group that I work with that I found a rift little.” As she started to walk away, she whispered “Xerxes: Guard.” Peeking outside at the wagon full of sweet peas, she could see that he really did do a good job. Even if he then ate himself into a food coma. He definitely wanted to help and do his best. With a look at the clock, Amanda sighed. She had two hours to finish editing an article and inserting references to research, and email one of her bosses. Time to get after it. Walking over to her office, which was really just meant to be a small bedroom for a little when the place was constructed (The irony only now occurred to her) she sat at her desk and while her computer was booting up, she rolled her chair back a bit and started looking at how she could rearrange the desk so that she could see out into the living room while she worked. It would be pretty easy, but she would definitely need some help when Cat got here. She logged in and typed out a message to her employer that was studying rift littles, and then spent a few minutes adding notes to her note card, documenting everything that had happened with John today before switching over to her office software. She was most of the way though editing an article and setting up links to relevant sources when she got a message from a research team leader on the group chat. “Hi Miss Taylor. This is Andy with the research team. I had a message forwarded to me. Did you find a little that came through a rift?” Oh wow, okay she expected a response in a few days, not less than an hour. She replied in the little pop up “Hi Andy, I am the one that found a little that came through a rift. Is your group still studying them?” “Yes Ma'am, we currently don't have any littles in our local area and are just and are simply keeping up with medical records. With permission from their adopted parents, of course.” “Naturally. How can I help you?” “Well Miss Taylor, I believe that we have a unique opportunity before us.” “You want to study my little.” “Yes Ma'am, we do. We would help with some of the tasks that you need to get done to accommodate your new little, and even pay you a monthly stipend for his expenses. We've had the funding donated by a corporation that wants to study what happens to littles cognitive ability as they adapt to our world, but we've not yet found any right as they arrived. You have a unique opportunity, and they are willing to pay for this data." She shook her head as she typed a reply “That is only acceptable if it does not affect him negatively. I need to know that you would be expecting from him first.” The reply came almost immediately, as though they had already been typing. “Good news! He won't even know that he is participating. We will send a wrist band for him to wear that will track his vitals, and it even has GPS tracking so you can always find him. You just go get him his checkup at your family doctor and they send us his information, and we will also send a tablet with some puzzle games and pattern detection games. All you have to do is just open the box and let him explore the tablet and play the games. An hour of playtime every couple of days should be more than enough.” Amanda sat there thinking about it for a moment. She didn't have TV service, so the games would give him something to do. “Okay, I'll give it a try, but if he starts to seem uncomfortable with it, we will stop immediately.” “That is always the plan. Besides, you have to do more work than he does. We'll need some pictures and a thorough account of how he got here, as well as weekly updates. That's honestly what the stipend is for." Now she got to laugh “I have already been keeping a journal of every detail about him that I can, just in case I have to explain things to LPS.” And finally she got back the reply “You should get him registered with LPS as soon as possible. Sometimes they get a bit cranky about rift littles. Best of luck to you, and make absolutely certain to send us all the receipts for every single purchase you make for him … Please.” Amanda stretched a bit in her chair. One more paragraph and two more links and she was done, and then she would have about an hour before company arrives to make some coffee. While she was finishing up her last bit of work she could hear John calling her name “Am... Amanda!?” He sounded alarmed, like maybe he'd had a bad dream. “Miss Amanda?” Yeah, the poor thing definitely sounded upset about something. Without looking up from her work she called distractedly “It's okay sweety, Mommy's in the office finishing up her work.” She heard a crinkling sound getting closer and looked to see the little standing there struggling to hold his knees together and whimpering. “I need to use the bathroom.” He said in a strained voice. With a nod, she answered “I'm almost done with my work, I'll be there in about two minutes.” He shook his head “I don't … think I can wait.” Stopping to save her work and hit the button to upload the now completed article, she closed the app. “Sweety, if you have to go that badly...It's not a big deal.” He stood there shaking his head “No, please. Anything but that. Please. I can't ...” Now powering down her computer she stood up and started to walk toward him, only to see him sink down to his knees on the floor, and it looked like he was about to start crying. And mumbling something that sounded like “I don't wanna” over and over.