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Chapter 59 - Cornered [7:30 PM] “Hi, I’ll take a falafel wrap with everything on it to go, medium heat, please,” the officer notified the restauranteur, as she looked up at the menu screen. “Also, a Coke Zero.” A low blond ponytail that had been wrapped into a bun protruded from under her cap at the back of her head. “I will prepare that for you right away, madam, but, may I engage you first on another matter?” The officer looked puzzled. “Sure,” she said. The man dropped his voice. “There is an unaccompanied child at one of my tables - he came in looking for something to eat. It looks like he has recently been injured, and, he is also wearing a cast from a previous injury. I asked him where his parents were, and I could tell that he made up a story. He is young – I would guess maybe nine or ten. This is a late hour for such a child to be out in the city by themselves. I was thinking that I would have to call someone from your department, but since you are here, maybe you could speak with him?” “What did he tell you?” “He said his parents were at the travel agency a couple of units over, but, I know they are closed.” Zack sat at his table chewing a remnant from his bagel, trying to look engrossed by the label on his apple juice, but out of the corner of his eye, he was watching the police officer at the counter. She had been looking at the menu and was now talking to the restauranteur, so, it seemed like maybe she had just stopped in for food. Then, her head did a quick scan of the tables, and settled on him. She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded to the man, before walking along the counter and heading towards where he was sitting. Crap! Zack’s heart raced. Maybe she’s looking for the bathroom. The officer did in fact walk right past Zack, and open the washroom door, causing Zack to raise his head and look, which she caught when she quickly looked over her shoulder, after glimpsing into the washroom to make sure it was unoccupied. She pushed the bathroom door closed and walked over. Zack’s wide eyes took in her dark blue uniform, black armored vest, and a belt that contained what looked like a half-dozen devices, including a radio, a sidearm, and a bright yellow handgrip that seemed to be some other type of weapon. But her face was friendly. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asked, but then she pulled the chair opposite him out without waiting for an answer. Zack swallowed hard. “Sure… I’m just leaving anyway,” he added. “Is that your scooter?” she inquired, tilting her head towards the battered device that rested against the table. Zack nodded weakly. The officer tilted her upper body over so that she could look under the table from the side. “Your knee is bleeding,” she observed. “What happened?” Zack took another sip from his apple juice, with slightly shaking hands. I shouldn’t have come in here… “I fell off my scooter,” he said simply. “Well, that looks like it smarts – you could probably use a bandage, maybe a couple, eh? What happened to your ankle?” “I broke it a couple of weeks ago, at baseball practice,” he said, lowering his voice and looking over towards the counter. The man behind it was busy and not paying attention. “You’re not having much luck these days, are you? What brings you down here tonight? Do you live nearby?” Zack grasped for the straw the police officer seemed to be offering. “Yes, yes, exactly – I live just up the street. Just getting a bite to eat, and I’ll head straight home.” “So, your parents are not at the travel agency?” “I’m sure they probably went home by now,” he said, nodding for emphasis. “And they left you here?” she asked in a neutral tone. “Uh, well, I come here all the time – it’s right up the street.” The officer lifted her arm and looked at her watch. “You come here all the time, downtown, at eight o’clock in the evening, by yourself?” Zack took another frantic swig from his juice while his overwhelmed brain tried to formulate a response. “Yes,” he said simply, and felt his cheeks start to burn. He felt like he was blinking excessively, too, but couldn’t help himself. He wished that his juice wasn’t nearly empty. “Here’s the thing… the man who runs this restaurant has never seen you before, and he is here every day. He’s concerned about you. I’m concerned, too. Can you tell me your name and address?” Zack dropped his face into the palms of his hands and took a shaky breath. Why didn’t I look at the goddamn street names around here?!? He tried to think of a street name that he knew, but that wouldn’t give away his actual origins. The park where he played baseball was on a street called Woodhaven… Woodhaven sounded like a common enough name – there had to be one in a city as big as this? Didn’t there? “I live on, uh, Woodhaven street. It’s close by.” “What’s your street number?” she asked smiling. Zack’s mind raced. “Two… one… two… three….” he said, intoning the last number almost like he was asking her. The officer reached behind her and pulled a phone out of one of her many pockets. She tapped on it for a few moments, and then looked up at him. “The nearest Woodhaven Street is in Olympia, my dear, and there is no two one two three Woodhaven, in any case. So, who are you?” Zack’s eyes went wide. DUMB DUMB DUMB to use an Olympia street name when I’m from Olympia. Dumb. “I am, uh, from Olympia… maybe I got the number wrong. We just moved.” “And how did you end up all the way up here? Olympia is at least fifty miles away. Did you ride your scooter?” Zack could feel panic gnawing at the corners of his mind, and he could not think of a good response, so, he told the truth, in a roundabout way. “I came on the bus,” he said, while looking at her with pleading eyes. “By yourself? From Olympia? That’s a long, complicated commute. What bus routes did you take?” Zack was defeated. “I don’t remember.” “And what business do you have in these parts?” “I just… wanted to go exploring a bit,” he said, with resignation, not expecting her to accept that, just as she hadn’t accepted anything he’d said so far. “It’s late for someone your age to be out exploring in the city by themselves, don’t you think? How old are you?” she asked, in a skeptical but kind tone. Don’t say your real age. Don’t give her any more accurate details. “I’m… I’m thirteen,” he answered, trying to sound confident. “What year were you born?” Zack froze, but then spit out an answer. He was good at math. “Twenty-eleven.” Phew. That was right. “And what’s your name?” Zack froze again. Come up with a name! Something as far away from ‘Zack’ as you can get. “Adam.” “What’s your last name, Adam?” He searched his mind. His science teacher in the sixth grade had been Mr. Cooper. He had no idea why that come to him. “Adam Cooper.” “Do you have a phone number, Adam Cooper?” she asked, holding her phone up expectantly. Zack sighed. “I… I don’t know it. It’s in my phone… and I don’t have my phone.” “So… you don’t know your address, because you just moved, and you don’t know your phone number, because you don’t have your phone. Do you live with your mom and dad?” Zack nodded. “Do they have names?” Zack looked like a deer caught in headlights again for a moment. Then, he remembered his roommate from the children’s hospital. “Tommy and Angela,” he spit out. “Tommy and Angela Cooper, who just moved to… Olympia, with their son, Adam, who is thirteen, is that correct?” Zack noded. “Where did you move to Olympia from?” Crap!!! “Uh, Canada, ma’am.” Fuck, why’d I’d I say Canada? “Canada… well, the plot thickens. Anywhere in particular, in Canada?” Zack hung his head. He was exhausted. “Just… just Canada.” “Well, Adam Cooper from Canada, so far, I have to say, I’m not fully embracing the story you are telling me. I’m not sure if Adam is your name or not, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not thirteen yet, and, I’m certain that if you’d lived in Canada, you would probably know where you lived. You seem pretty bright. I’m getting the impression that you don’t want me to know who you are, and I need to know why that is. Can you tell me why, Adam?” The man from behind the counter walked over towards them with another bottle of apple juice, a can of pop, and a cylindrical object wrapped in white wax paper. He placed all three on the table, and then slid the juice towards Zack, but it was too late. All the juice in the world couldn’t help Zack now. Simultaneously, tears began streaming down his face, and, he wet his diaper. _________ [7:50 PM] Zack held his head in his hands as the officer pressed a button on a radio microphone that was clipped to her vest, attached to a unit on her belt by a spiral cord. “This is twenty eighty-two, I’m ten seventy-five with an unidentified minor child on Northeast Forty-Third. Request social services at the division. Ask if EMS has a unit in the area that can meet us, non-emergency. I am transporting him, I’ll be ten ninety-seven at twenty thirty-five.” There was a burst of static, and then, “Roger, twenty eighty-two, passing on your requests.” Zack swallowed hard. “What does that mean, what you said on your radio?” he whispered. “What that means, Adam, is, unless you can tell me who you are, and where you’re from, for real, I am going to have to give you a ride back to my precinct. I told them we’d be there at about 8:35. I just need to pay for my wrap – it looks like I’ll be eating dinner a bit later.” The proprietor shook his head. “Not at all, officer, not at all. This is on me. Thank you for your kind assistance to our young friend here. Have you had enough to eat, my soccer player?” Zack nodded mutely. He was no longer hungry. “Well, take the juice with you for later. Come back and see me when you are feeling better.” “He plays soccer, too, does he? He just told me he plays baseball,” the officer said, looking directly at Zack. The man squeezed Zack’s shoulder and then walked back towards the counter, where a heavyset man in a long t-shirt seemed to be looking for someone in the back of the kitchen. “I didn’t introduce myself, Adam, I apologize. My name is Officer Riley. That is my real name, too.” She gave him a wink. “My car is parked just outside. You are not under arrest, Adam, but… don’t try to run, okay?” Zack looked up at her with tear-streaked cheeks. She winked again, then stood up, and turned the scooter 180 degrees, holding it steady for him. Reluctantly, he slid out from under the table, and gingerly placed his injured leg on its knee-rest, wincing as he felt the dried blood on it shift and crumble on the cushion. Once he was standing, he saw her raise one eyebrow slightly, as she took in his outfit. He blushed again, knowing that the sizeable diaper given to him in the ER had to be visible. Officer Riley put a hand on the handlebars of the scooter, but Zack sensed that, unlike when Kelly did it, she wasn’t rushing or intending to tow him. She just didn’t know how steady he would be, and she wanted to make sure he didn’t fall over. He set the pace as they rolled towards her vehicle, which turned out to be basically the same SUV that Kelly’s sister Kim had driven him to the hospital in. That seems like it happened months ago… “Adam, do you normally ride in a booster seat when you’re in a car?” she asked him, as she pulled the handle on the back door of the grey police vehicle. Zack shook his head vigorously. “No, I don’t,” he said. “You look like you’re nine or ten to me, but I’ll take your word for it. You slide in on the seat, and I’ll put your scooter in the back. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to back there… it’s not exactly clean. I have some pretty grungy passengers sometimes.” Zack paused when he looked into the black vinyl cavern that was the rear compartment of the police SUV. There was a plexiglass screen separating it from both the front seats, and the cargo area of the vehicle. A wire grid covered the windows. It looked like a cage. Sensing his hesitation, the officer put a hand on his shoulder. “I’d let you ride up front, buddy, but I think you’re too short – it wouldn’t be safe with the airbag. But you’re not under arrest, okay? I promise. This is just what we have to use right now, I’ll let you out as soon as we get to the station.” Zack reluctantly slid onto the flat vinyl seat, finding barely enough room for his casted ankle between the base of the seat and the plexiglass barrier behind the front seatbacks. There were no seatbelts, and the dome light was in a plexiglass cage. The officer closed the door, and then stood outside the vehicle, talking into her radio, for several minutes.

Chapter Thirty Five Amanda looked at her clock. About an hour until she had a guest, and somehow John was still awake. Usually he’s fallen over by now, but since lunch he was so wired he climbed on the couch, climbed down and ran around it with Xerxes following him. He drew for a few minutes and then got back up. Being mostly caught up work, with only an hour or so of work left to finish later, she stopped and pondered how to get him slowed down long enough for the sleepiness to take over without blatantly just putting him in the playpen. After a moment the idea came to her, so she tapped her computer to put into standby and went to gather her supplies. Bottle of a specific lotion. Shower cap. Gloves. Shower turned on. She was ready. Stepping out of the bathroom, she watched as John crawled around the corner of the couch and used the side of the couch to get back onto his feed and waddle away from Xerxes, towing a toy behind him. He definitely grumbled about the fact that once the rough pup diapers got the slightest bit wet he waddled, and when they got partly full he was reduced to crawling. But she had to admit it, he was rough on them and they never tore once. Waiting for John to waddle into range, she reached out and snatched him up. She got him against her up with a squish and hugged him “I know someone that’s getting a quick shower.” He grumped at her a bit about being stopped, but it was obvious to her that he was almost out of steam. Maybe he kept moving so he wouldn’t feel it. Either way, it was about to be solved by some relaxing warm water. Standing him up and kneeling down, she was able to undo the locking snaps on his onesie. Press up, twist halfway, pull, twist the rest of the way and pull while tilting it back away from the direction that it would get pulled if it got snagged. Or if little hands were trying to remove it. It was the most normal locking snap, meant to keep them from just getting tugged off while littles were playing. It also made sense to Amanda that some more regressed littles would try to take their clothes off even if it was cold, so that just seemed all too practical. With just a moment of effort, his onesie was off, his diaper was off and she was able to give him a quick pass with a wipe, and she could see that the cream she used in her diaper area had definitely gotten rid of all the hair. But the rash that wet hair had caused was just barely there. Swinging her charge up and into the bath tub she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and started explaining. He always seemed calmer if he halfway understood what was going on. “Okay John, do you remember us talking about you getting a bit scruffy?” He nodded “Yes…” “Well, first we’re going to wash your hair and then put a shower cap on you. Then I’m going to use this cream to knock that facial hair off, and that will take care of that, okay?” She watched him nod uncertainly and then she got to work shampooing his hair that was some how halfway oily again anyway. It was rewarding how he closed his eyes and enjoyed the scalp massage. Once he was shampooed and rinsed, she held up the shower cap and explained “I just need you to stand still for a moment. This will protect your hair and eyebrows so we don’t have to worry about any splashing, okay?” He looked a bit nervous as he nodded but she went ahead and put the shower cap onto him, and then dried her hands before putting on her thick gloves. Now it was time to be careful. She took a moment to make sure that his eyes and ears and even the back of his neck was covered up before using a fingertip to smear the paste onto his face, up under (but not into) his nose and all the way down to his neck and chest. Thankfully the nanite paste had no smell at all. Since he was cooperating and being a very good boy, she was able to wash her gloved hands off, and rinse his face off slowly with a cup of water. Just to be certain, she rinsed him a coupe of extra times. And now for the rest of him, she took an old rag that was about to be tossed and used it to rub him down all over with the same paste from the neck down. Since she wasn’t worried about messing up and having an accident, it didn’t even take a minute before she was washing him off thoroughly. After taking her gloves off and throwing them away with the rag, she went ahead and popped the now empty tube into the trash with the gloves. It’s amazing how you could buy a tube sized exactly to do one whole little, and it was honestly very inexpensive, too. Now it was time to lather him up for real and give him a good scrubbing down! The rest of the shower was uneventful, and the warm water worked wonders, as he was starting to sway back and forth trying to stay upright. As she got him up and wrapped in her fluffiest towel, she stepped out of the bathroom with him just in time to see a shadow moving through the window. Apparently she had gotten a later start on this than she expected, and her visitor was here. Before they would knock on the door and wake up her son, she half-dashed while keeping her upper body still to reach over and open the door. She was greeted by a formally dressed woman about her own height, which was on the short end of the spectrum for her people. The woman looked to be in her forties and dressed in a very casual pair of slacks and presentable cool blue blouse. Everything about this woman, including her demeanor seemed to exude calm and collected. Even her light brown hair, which most professionals wore up, was brushed out long and presented half in the back and half over one shoulder with not so much as a wrinkle or split end to be seen. Amanda waved silently in greeting and pointed to the now sleeping little on her shoulder. The woman nodded immediately in understanding. Waving the visitor inside, she gestured her to the counter where she always met with guests and had coffee. Only once she was seated and seemed comfortable did Amanda turn and walk as smoothly as she could manage to the her sons room. Pivoting him slowly onto the changing table, she unwrapped the towel from around him and gave him a quick once over. The nanites in the paste had done their job admirably, and he was smooth as a baby. When his body hair grew back it would likely be a gentle fuzz, and not something thick or unsanitary. He slept through her putting a rough pup onto him. He was still out when she put a fresh onesie on him. And he was completely limp when she laid him in the crib and pulled a blanket over him. She knew she would find him laying comically butt up on his big pillow later, but for now he was just an adorable sleeping blessing. She pulled out her phone and took a picture to prove that he could be still, before sliding the rail back up and turning out the light. As she started out of the door she was confronted by Xerxes, who was sitting up and staring at her. She had to lean down to whisper to the dog “Go lay down next to his crib.” Xerxes did not move. He obviously wanted his little. So with a sigh she grabbed his doggy bed and carried it into the room, putting it next to the crib. The dog looked indignant, but eventually gave up and sat on his bed looking into the crib. Stepping out of the room and pulling the door semi closed behind her, she pushed the child gate on the bathroom closed and flicked the towel into the hamper through the open laundry room door on her way to greet her visitor. Holding out her hand, she was greeted with a gentle handshake. “Hello, I’m Amanda Taylor. I’m pleased to meet you.” With a nod back “I’m Carol Scientia, pleased to meet you as well.” With a polite smile, Amanda motioned “I usually have a cup of coffee around this time of the day, and if you would like a cup, coffee is better when shared.” The woman nodded thoughtfully “I would happily share coffee with you.” Taking a moment to pop the seal on the vacuum container that she used to keep her coffee fresh on the counter, she quickly got a pot of coffee brewing and then dutifully resealed it. Turning back to Carol, she waved “I have a variety of coffee cups, if you would like to pick your own. Or if you would like, I could just grab one of my favorites.” Now with a smirk, Carol said “You know, I’m interested to see which one of them is your favorite.” With a nod, she reached out and pulled her two favorite mugs off of the cup hooks and sat them down on the counter. One was a sky blue with wisps of white that reminded her of looking up at the sky on a foggy morning as the sun comes up and starts to chase away the fog. And the other was an earthy brown with swirls of light green that reminded her of a freshly tilled garden, ready to be planted. Neither one was fancy. The handles were just the right size, the bottom was slightly rounded and comfortable to hold from the bottom. Filling both cups with black coffee, Amanda sat them down on the counter between her and Carol and motioned “Take your pick, these are my two favorites.” Carol nodded as she took the blue one, saying “Thank you very much. I find myself drawn to the blue one, so that is the one I will take.” After they had a few sips of coffee, Carol spoke up again “You have a very nice house. It’s just the right size. What drove you to move so far out of town?” Amanda took another sip as she thought of the best way to answer. Finally she spoke “I know that a lot of people like to live in tight little neighborhoods and keep everything identical, and that’s fine if they want to do that. I just don’t … fit that mold. I can’t have a garden in a suburb. I can’t ignore my yard for a couple of days if I’m backed up a bit on work. Everyone around you is constantly pressuring you to conform to their ideals of your life. If … I guess if that makes sense?” Carol simply nodded along in understanding as Amanda spoke and when she stopped, Carol simply pointed to the three rows of mugs hanging under the counter from cup hooks. She spoke “Much like your coffee mugs there. Not being all identical is not a bad thing. Sometimes the uniqueness makes us more complete as a whole. And just the same, there are all types of people. If I may ask, how do you like your garden?” Now Amanda smiled “I love my garden. Now that I have John in my life I may need to save up a bit and move the fence back and then move the whole garden back next year so that he has more room to play. As much as he tries to spend all of his time outdoors, it may do to get him a nice playhouse. Maybe one of those with the solar panels to power some fans on the inside, since it get humid here in the summer.” Carol smiled “That’s more of a what you want to do with your garden than it is how you feel about it. It sounds like your garden is a big part of your life that you are willing to, literally in this case, move back to make room for someone in your life.” With a little laugh, Amanda nodded in agreement “I think that you might be right. I wasn’t lonely before, but now I already don’t think I could live without my son in my life.” Yet another smile in response, until the look on her face changed “Tell me, do you ever have any trouble with wildlife in your garden?” Cautiously, Amanda asked back “Do you mean like birds and squirrels?” After a very short pause, the response came “I mean those things, as well as foxes and snakes. Just any wildlife in general.” “Well, with the smell of Xerxes here, foxes have never dared come anywhere near the house. I do get the occasional garden snake. They’re non venomous, so I just get my gloves and grab them and carry them off to the treeline to set them free.” “Have you ever had any venomous snakes?” Now with a sigh, Amanda admitted “Only once.” “And how did you handle it?” “Well … it was rearing up at Xerxes, so I grabbed the shovel and … I’m sad to say that I had to make the decision to kill it. I felt bad about it, so I buried it out front and planted a white Azalea bush over it as my way of apologizing to it.” There was a pause while Carol left her to have her thoughts before she spoke up again “You know, from the report I was given, and what you’ve said so far, you strike me as a very model Big in some ways, and a bit rebellious in others.” Unable to hold in a bit of a laugh, Amanda asked “Okay. I can’t resist asking: How so?” After calmly finishing her sip of coffee, the visitor explained “You act to protect first and foremost. You value nature, you value life, and I’m willing to bet that you don’t want to mess up the forest around you, as you’d rather live in the middle of it, and not make it conform to your ideals.” Amanda nodded “I suppose that is all pretty accurate. And as for the rebellious side?” “Well” she paused to take a sip. “Where most people would just conform to what their neighbors expected of them and blend in to avoid standing out, which I’m certain that you tried to do, you decided that life was not for you, and you changed everything about your life that you needed to in order to get away from it and live more like you wanted.” Trying to take a sip of her coffee was a mistake as she choked on it a little as Carol ended her statement. That took a moment of coughing to get over. Covering her mouth as she finished coughing, she mumbled “My son is rubbing off on me.” Now even the incredibly calm seeming Carol joined in the chuckling “Littles do tend to bring out the best in us in some ways, and try our patience in others.” “Amen.” Exclaimed Amanda and they even raised mugs and clinked them together. After another sip, Amanda spoke this time, saying “Do you know what the giveaway is that a neighborhood is going to be super oppressive, from my point of view?” Now looking intrigued, Carol leaned in with a smirk and asked “Oh? Do tell, I’m always looking for more ways to understand patients.” Amanda held up one finger and answered simply “The mail boxes.” That gave Carol a moment of pause before she asked “Okay, what is it about the mailboxes?” Smiling now, Amanda explained “If all of the mail boxes are ornate and every single one of them is completely identical in every way, then that neighborhood is usually the kind where someone will yell at their neighbors about anything end everything, from how they park, to if their mulch is faded, if they plant a bush without clearing it with everyone else first, even if their driveway is dirty. Next time you drive through an unfamiliar neighborhood, look at the mailboxes.” For her part, Carol listened intently, nodding along, and finally agreed “You know, that is a bit reductive in a way, but I can only think of examples that prove your point. My Mother moved into a neighborhood like that and let’s just say that I got my masters by studying and writing about the people in the neighborhood around my Mother.” Waving a hand, Amanda explained “Oh, I’m certain that there are exceptions. But when I was trying to find a new place to live, that became my red flag before I found this place and fell in love with it.” Another moment and a couple of sips of coffee later, Amanda got up and brought the carafe over and refilled both of their cups. After putting the carafe back in place she said “Please let me know if you would like any water to drink as well.” With a nod Carol took her mug again before explaining “So I suppose you’re patiently waiting for me to ‘get to the point’ as it were?” Amanda shrugged a bit “I’m not going to rush you or anything, I figure that the small talk was polite conversation, and I don’t mind it. But if you’re ready, we can change the topic.” Carol reached over and placed her hand onto Amanda’s own and said softly “I was sent out to check on you because you seemed pretty shaken up last night. Which is very reasonable.” All that Amanda could really do in this situation was nod, trying not to dwell on the events that left her crying all night long. “Well.” Carol explained “The best possible news is that the little girl that you saved woke up two hours ago. She doesn’t know where she is and she doesn’t remember how she got to where she was, but she remembers being carried and someones voice telling her to wake up.” Finally she realized that she had been holding her breath when she exhaled and slumped against the counter in front of her, mumbling “Thank the Goddess.” For her part, Carol did not seem to say anything, she waited patiently for Amanda to take a few deep breaths and sit back up before continuing. “Now that she is awake, the LPS has assigned a case worker and she is in an LICU unit. She’s going to be very well taken care of and they’ll get her healed up. A Child Psychologist will be visiting with her, and she will be placed in a loving home.” It took a bit longer to process than Amanda was willing to admit, but the end result was still a relief. Seemingly that relief must have started to show on her face. Speaking now, Carol did not interrupt her until the end of her moment of reflection. “So you made quite an impression with Agent Praefectus, and the paramedics. There is a bit of a push to offer you a cash reward for your assistance. It wouldn’t be a huge number, but the higher ups over Agent Preafectus want you to be willing to cooperate in the future for a few things.” Immediately Amanda held up a hand “I refuse to take any money for that. Period.” Smiling now, Carol looked the image of pride as she explained “I already told them that you would likely refuse. But I know them so they are very likely to send out a contractor to try and talk you into an improvement to your driveway and maybe a walking path at the very edge of your property line, at the very least.” Frowning a bit, Amanda argued “I can maintain these things. There’s no need for that, really.” Now Carol seemed to actively choose to give a nonchalant shrug as she explained “I am here to help you adjust and make sure you are doing well after a traumatic event. You seem like the type that would prefer to know in advance. Arguing with them directly is your job.” Nodding appreciatively, Amanda admitted “Yes, I do appreciate that.” After a long quiet moment sitting together. After finishing her second cup of coffee, Amanda admitted out loud “You know, I thought this would be more stressful and it would turn into some sort of session? Looking up from her own mug, Carol commented with a straight face “You’ve been answering questions and reflecting on things for an hour now.” That gave Amanda a moment of pause while she thought. “Now” Carol interrupted her thoughts “It seems like you’ve had time to talk about the events from last night with someone and spent the night with them being there for you?” Amanda nodded along. “Have you noticed suddenly feeling over the top as far as being protective of your son today?” “Well … A bit, yes. I think I’ve kept it mostly under control though.” Carol nodded along “Why don’t we talk for a bit longer, let this process, and you can tell me how this has affected your internal dialogue.” Amanda sighed a bit “Okay, so that’s probably going to be a bit harder.” ~~~~~~~ An hour and a half John woke up in his crib, and not snuggling with his dog. He had that feeling that he got when he slept either too much or not enough and even flopping onto his giant pillow, which usually worked wonders, could relieve his temporary grumpiness.

Lila on a family vacation This started as an English writing - training project for me. I have to give credit to the original Story “Lila’s family vacation” from Reatykeuniverse for the idea, the plot, and the beautiful name Lila that I used as a starting point. The first chapters are more like a close-bound rewrite with a lot of added sections in the middle, while the later parts just stick to the basic plot and do not have a lot in common with the original. This is the first part (apx. 6000 words) of the story that is already finished and has apx. 46000 words. While correcting takes a lot of effort for me due to my problem with reading and seeing spelling errors, it will take about two weeks to finish a chapter. So please be patient, I will try my best not to keep you waiting. Even though this is not my first story, I do a lot of writing in German, but it is my first story in English. I put a lot of effort into correcting all the grammar and spelling errors and hope there are not too many left to spoil your reading experience. I welcome any constructive feedback on my writing style, grammar and spelling, but please add as much information as possible, so I can improve. And I would also love to hear if you liked the story. If you want to know more, I just opened an intro thread in the nursery Annie's Intro ### Chapter 1 - Traveling - Discover what seemed to be lost. "Mum really, why do I have to wear diapers again?", complained Lila. "Hey honey, we are never going to force it if you don't want to," replied her mum Maria, "but you always wore them for the last years on our vacations, and it always made our trips a lot less stressful, for all of us?” She struggled with her decision while her mum placed the bag on her bed. This bag was clearly designed to appeal to a nurse in a retirement home and did not charm the little girl into the decision to wear them on the trip. As Lila stared at the colorful sheets of her bed, she felt the conflict in her. She was not eager to wear anything other than her panties. And all of her classmates in school would surely throw such a big tantrum that her parents would not dare to mention these diapers ever again. On the other hand, her mum was right, she wet the bed at least sometimes, and for some seconds she remembered how this unusual habit started for the now teenage girl. Whenever her parents could get some days off work, the family went on a trip together, and her mum used to put her girl in pull-ups just before they were leaving. All this started when Lila had a wetting accident when the family was on a city trip to Berlin when she was seven. It was the first year when she finally managed to stay dry during the day and at the packed museum, the line to the toilet was way too long for the young girl to hold it. Lila was in tears and did not want to leave the bathroom anymore, and her mum needed all her mummy magic to cheer the little girl up and get her ready for the rest of her day. To protect her from embarrassing accidents and to make it easier for her child, Lila, and her parents decided to keep her in the pull-ups she still wore for bed-wetting just in case during the day for the rest of the city trip. This worked so well that from there onwards, it became a secret family tradition for the little girl to be in pull-ups whenever they went on a vacation. In all those years, Lila didn't mind wearing pull-ups on occasions like this. She still wore them to bed at night, and wearing them on vacations during the day gave her back some kind of security. She even peed in them when she did not want to rush to the next restroom or was on the road. But now she is thirteen! Nearly a grownup woman in her eyes. And to her dismay, her mum got her tape diapers designed for a senile granny, instead of the slightly embarrassing but at least funny-looking pull-ups. Furthermore, she could slide down these bed-wetter's pants easily on her own when she headed to the bathroom. Lila had indeed outgrown her pull-ups, they did not fit her properly and on the rare occasions she wet the bed they hardly prevented the wet stains on the sheets. So the last time she'd worn them on a trip, her mom had decided to switch to diapers when she was not sleeping on her well-protected bed at home. While she still stared at the bag, Lila was obviously hesitant to wear ugly full-tape diapers, especially at her age. But after recalling her last wet night which was not even one week ago and that she probably would sleep on the plane, she ultimately decided to go with the diapers, just to be safe. "Fine..." she gave in, still trying to look serious, "But this is the last time I swear, and it will be just for the flights and when I sleep!" "You are such a responsible girl.", Maria praised her daughter, leaving her confused about what could be responsible in using diapers. "Please lie down, honey. So we get your diaper on you." Still, in her thoughts, Lila was obeying Mom's instructions sheepishly, took off her skirt and underwear, and laid herself on the soft bed while she noticed the crinkling of her mattress protector as she squirmed and twisted. "Can you put your bottoms up, please." her Mom patiently asked, not wanting to embarrass her girl more than necessary by just lifting her legs with her arms. And she unfolded a plain white fabric and laid it under her daughter's bum. Lila was weirdly feeling comfortable as she put some cream and powder on her before she taped the diaper in place and adjusted the leak guards. "We're all done, and you are ready for your vacation!" Her mum smiled at her. "Do you want to check that you have everything, we have to leave in fifteen minutes." ### Lila was in her thoughts for most of their trip to the airport. And when they arrived, Mum even needed to hold her hand because she was still daydreaming. However she looked at it, the diaper that she wore did not feel uncomfortable. She even liked the soft material that hugged her and that was wiping away all her worries. With the ease of her mind, she dreamed about all her past vacations where she was young and free. In retrospect, she had a really great childhood. Her parents were always there for Lila, and one of the reasons why she did not mind wearing her Pull-Ups in the past was that her parents did not make a big thing out of it when she had a small uppsie accident in them. After the family got their baggage checked in, they still had time to spare before heading for the gate, so they sat on one of the benches to wait and relax. Lila was exhausted from walking through the endless corridors and for a brief moment wanted to sit on her mom's lap as she did countless times in the past, but instead, she sat next to her, suddenly feeling her need to pee. "Mom," she secretly whispered, mindful that they were in a crowded airport, "I need to pee really urgently." “Oh, right now, can't you hold in any longer?” she replied searching for a bathroom while only seeing a corridor packed with endless shops offering their expensive and often useless duty-free stuff. As a young preteen child, Lila didn't mind using her pull-ups, especially when there was no clean bathroom nearby. She leaned on Mum's side, trying to get comfortable with all the people around. “This was much easier on our last trip”, she commented with a sigh. At the same time, she was getting ready to accept her daughter's wish to head to the bathroom whenever possible. “No mummy, I don't want to, my feet are hurting!”, Lila confessed. Wishing she had not protested against her parent's request for her to be diapered and unaware that her mum now could easily read the trouble of her little girl's mind like an open book "You know, I don't mind if you use your diaper, honey. I am sure it will hold up fine.", her mom carefully suggested, while at the same time easing her girl with her hand. For some seconds, Lila thought about that option out of her dilemma. Her parents put her in actual diapers, and that is what they are for, aren't they? Vaguely, she remembered the moon and the stars that promised a dry night on the package. It would soak up everything, she assured herself, while on the other hand remembering the good old days when she just peed in the pull-ups whenever she had to go. Once, she nearly let her mum talk her into going poopy, because they were in a subway with no bathrooms available. On that occasion, she finally made it to a stinky metro bathroom, and she also remembered that she wished she had any other option as it was so gross and dirty. However, this was completely different in her eyes. She just wet the bed in her sleep and the toilet was surely just a short distance away and perhaps most importantly, even when she was small for her age she was a teeny now. Her mum noticed the still ongoing fight in her girl's mind. “Don't worry, little one. Just go pee if you need to, that is what you wear them for. And it will be our secret, I promise”, she heard her mother, laying her arm on her daughter's shoulder. Was it really so strange for her to wet her diaper, she questioned her belief. Her mum just had given Lila permission to use it when she needed to pee. And the diaper felt so soft and comfy, it could not be that bad, could it? First slightly squirming, Lila tried to release the pressure on her bladder, but it was quite difficult to do so deliberately, especially sitting on a bench in a crowded airport. This time she obviously pushed, pressing her eyes together as she slowly was able to squeeze out a few drops. “It is quite hard if you are not used to it, do you want to sit with me, it makes it easier.”, her mum promised. Lila switched over to the welcoming lap, suddenly noticing the difference. Without the hard surface she was sitting on, the next push gradually grew into a steady flow, making her crotch warm and squishy for a second. She hardly could stop peeing until her need was gone, and she felt dry and comfy again. Mom had taken notice of the growing warmth on her lap and had figured out what was happening. "Are you done wetting?" she asked with a motherly smile. Still a little embarrassed but glad she had the urgent need off her mind, Lila nodded in response. "The shop assistant assured me, it will keep you dry even if you have to go pee another time. But are you still feeling comfy and dry?" asked her worried Mom as discreetly as possible. For a second she forgot she was in public, squeezing her thighs together and checking the now not-too-obvious bulge between her legs. Not bad she had to admit, it was warm and still soft but not wet as her old pull-up would have been. "I'm good.", said Lila as she decided to not switch back to her own seat and was slightly thankful that her mum talked her into wearing a diaper again. Actually, Lila thought the warm feeling of her wet diaper was quite pleasant. She could tell that she had peed quite a bit into her babyish underwear, but these diapers were more absorbent than her old bed-wetters pants, and they could definitely hold a lot more. Maybe she was hesitant when arguing that she did not need the diapers on the trip. And she had to admit that wetting herself was still a big stress relief for her on this busy transit through the airports. As the minutes passed, their flight was announced over the speakers and Lila's family made their way to the crowded boarding gate. “You should finish your bottle”, her dad reminded her about the half a liter of sparkling water in her hands. Lila took a sip, as she noticed she had to pee again. I am already wet, she thought and as she only pushed a little, she was surprised how easily she started wetting. “Lila, we better change your diaper before we board the plane, don't we honey?”, suggested her Mom, as she spotted a toilet with a baby changing symbol added to the women’s bathroom. “You know, having to change your diaper on the plane would be a nightmare and very obvious.” Without trusting her diaper too much, she agreed with Mom that a change in the plane would be better avoided. After placing their bags with Dad, Mom took Lila to the toilet. There was a changing table, but it was just made to change a baby, and it was way too small to accommodate Lila. But upmost importantly, it would have been incredibly embarrassing for the small but still teenage girl, so instead they headed to one of the empty stalls together. Her Mom shut the door, “Can you lift your skirt for me, please.” Lila shyly raised her skirt, revealing the yellow-tainted diaper. “It was a good decision we switched you to diapers”, explained Mom, as she removed the tapes, letting the sodden diaper suddenly fall on the floor with a ‘plop’. “Your pull-ups would have been leaking long ago”, she concluded. “Now, do you still need to go potty?” Yes, Lila did feel a very light need to go, but using her diaper was not as bad as she thought, and she slowly began to regret that she was so determined to not use them on the trip. At least she could be using them on the flight and avoid the smelly dirty places they surely used as toilets here as well, she was making her decision. “No, I’m fine, Mom.”, Lila replied as she remembered how disgusting the toilets in public always were. “Sure honey.”, her mum smiled again. She cleaned her darling with a couple of quick wipes, unfolded the fresh diaper, and taped it on her daughter as if she never stopped doing it. Lila let go of her skirt and enjoyed the dryness of her underwear for a second. A wet diaper did not feel uncomfortable at all, but the feeling of a fresh and clean one felt pretty nice as well. “Let's go on a vacation” her Mom cheered, as she rolled up her sodden diaper, throwing it in the bin. While Lila was in a daydream about what just happened, she stepped out of the stall and followed her Mom. ### “Honey, good morning, we have just landed.” whispered her Mom as she gently kissed Lila awake. Opening her eyes, the girl slowly began to sit upright, rubbing all the sleepiness out of her face while stretching her legs. Yes, it was a good flight, she loved the thrill of takeoff and enjoyed the view over the clouds while she was taking advantage of the drinks and snacks they delivered. Eventually, all her adventures of the day caught up with the young girl, and she had fallen asleep with a smile for the rest of her flight. Now, as she stretched and wanted to get up, she noticed the slightly damp and warm feeling in her crotch. She indeed used her diapers two times on the transit when she had to go, and she was glad that Mum had not said a word about the not-too-small amount of soda that she downed. Feeling awake and ready to explore now, Lila glanced around the plane, noticing that most of the passengers had already disembarked and were on their way to the luggage claim. She did not want to wait any longer, as her dad was busy getting their bags from the overhead compartment. And in a moment her daughter was up on her feed waiting for her day bag and ready to start their vacation. As she was on her feet, she noticed her soaked diaper sag a little and the bulge between her legs was quite visible now if you knew it was there. She checked the back of her skirt for leaks and surely was relieved that everything still was dry For a second she wondered, whenever she had used her pull-ups it never felt this heavy. But this diaper had kept her dry and could handle a lot more than her old bed-wetters pants. As they followed all the signs to the baggage claim, Lila's belly started to feel uncomfortable, and she eventually had to go to the bathroom soon. Seeing that her parents were in a bit of a rush, she paid no mind to the ache and focused on keeping up with their pace. After arriving at the baggage claim, Lila went to grab a trolley while Mom and Dad waited at the conveyor belt for their bags. She pushed the trolley forward and joyfully jumped while rolling with it for some meters when she noticed the need to go suddenly coming back. But her parents looked so busy in the hustle and bustle of the airport, and she did not dare to raise her voice. Obviously, her only option was to tell Mom to take her diaper off for her to go to the restroom. But as she thought about that stinky room, she got a slight feeling of nausea in her throat. Actually peeing in the diapers saved her from this unpleasant experience on the transit through the airports. And now that she realized that this need would not be solved in such a quick but also childish and embarrassing manner, the worries that were so distant returned. Her mum sometimes offered her to just go when she was at the edge of having an accident and even if that was some years ago, she had to admit that her current underwear was made with that kind of accident in mind. And she even wore full tape-on diapers and was not in pull-ups now. Little kids and Babies do that all the time, don't they? She even remembered the adults talking about kids on the edge of potty training, just putting a diaper on when they needed to poop. It cannot be that uncomfortable. She was wondering what it would be like to go poopy in her diaper. And while the idea settled into her mind, she even got a little curious about how it would feel. Suddenly the need to go returned. Lila was sure she would not be able to hold back much longer as she squirmed and wiggled, hoping her need just would go away. “Lila, you look so worried. What's up?” she suddenly approached her little girl who was obviously feeling uncomfortable. “I... I am fine. It is just I may need to go to the bathroom a little longer really soon.”, she admitted sheepishly. “I can go to the toilet with you after we get our bags, in about five minutes, can you still wait for so long?” she explained, not realizing that her girl was on the edge of losing the battle against her belly. Lila put her hand on her tummy and felt the growing need to go now. Slowly shaking her head, she looked at her as she always did when she desperately wanted her help. “Can’t you come with me, so we can go now.”, she asked shyly, not willing to let her mum go and signaling that she might not be able to go on her own. “No baby, Bernhard needs my help, we cannot leave right now. ... So if you really need to go so urgently, I wouldn’t mind you using your diaper for poop as well. It's just a short trip to our hotel and I can change you when we get there easily.”, she told her and stroked her back as she always did when she was uncomfortable or stressed. Her mum just suggested that she should poop in her ‘just in case’ diaper. This was so embarrassing was her first thought, but after some moments she realized it would finally take the ache from her. And while everyone else would have ditched the proposal, for Lila it calmed her dilemma and even made her a little curious. Peeing in the diaper was such a relief, so pooping herself could not be so bad after all? She assumed in her mind. She smiled in Lila's face. “I really don't mind if you need to. You don't have to fight that hard.”, she tried to ease away the little girl's resistance. Maybe using it was the best option for her. As embarrassing as it was to admit, the thought of doing that with her mum’s consent made her feel loved and protected as if nothing could harm her. So Lila started wondering what it would feel like to actually do the other thing as well. With a sigh, Lila decided she wanted to try it, at least once. And this time she had a good excuse. Her parents had no time to accompany her, and she would not dare to go into the toilet alone, which could potentially be gross, dirty, and scary with all the unfamiliar people around. Even the idea of facing all the looks of strangers, the smells and flushing sounds without someone she knew close made her confident about her decision. “I think I'll use my ... you know, Mommy.”, Lila whispered, embarrassed and felt like a loved little girl while her mommy protected her. “It's ok you will feel much better”, she heard her say as Mom smiled and nodded, and joined Dad at the conveyor belt, leaving Lila some meters away waiting with their trolley. Lila tried to let it go, like she did when she needed to pee on the plane. But the ache in her belly just intensified further, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. After all, pooping herself was a lot more … involving than peeing. As she looked up again, she noticed all the adults were just staring where their luggage would appear. Surely no one would pay any attention to her, except for mum and dad of course. With that in mind, Lila leaned a little bit forward, resting some of her weight on the trolley. She relaxed her hold on her bowels and gave another slight push. A small trickle of pee released first before a tiny bit of her mess began making its way out. It cannot be that hard, Lila wondered, as she saw a little baby boy standing with his legs slightly apart, clearly doing his business in his pants. He does not care at all that he was messing his diaper. She felt the pressure in her belly coming back and also slightly spread her legs apart as she started to push. This time there wasn’t resistance in her tummy. Lila could feel the warmth quickly spreading as sticky poop squished against her bum. In relief, she exhaled and felt the load settle itself at the back of her diaper. Lila felt her belly relaxing a little. She now just wanted to feel comfortable again and all this nasty stuff out of her tummy. Once again she pushed a little harder, this time, and a few seconds later she was confident she had gotten everything out, while she realized that the feeling of pooping herself was much different from just wetting. While the diaper would quickly absorb all her pee, the poop had instead formed a slightly warm mess at the back of her diaper. However, she felt that it was actually quite pleasant and didn't feel bad at all. And it’s at least much better than having to use an icky, stinky restroom. Lila assured herself. She shook herself and pretended to smooth out the back of her skirt, carefully placing her hand on the diaper to make sure it was not too obvious as she was still in public. And she noticed the diaper was heavier now, and the sag kept most of her firm mess away from the childlike-looking girl's skin. For a second she smelled a faint lingering odor of poop. But she looked old enough that no one would expect it to be her who is poopy. Lila raised her head and saw her Mum looking over at her while she was still standing here doing her business as the little baby boy did just some moments ago. She noticed the kind smile on mummy's face as she turned back, helping dad take a heavy bag off. Mum knows, flashed to her mind as she wanted to be back with her parents. Lila slowly walked towards the conveyor belt to join them again. Somehow she wanted to tell them that she was messy, but it was much too embarrassing and babyish for her to admit. What will my daddy think of me just going in my diaper for that as well? The slight scent, however, told her parents anyway as she was approaching them. As Bernhard had picked up all their bags he sniffed and, with a knowing gaze, took Lila by her hand as he had not done for some years. “Let's get our car and finally head to the hotel.”, he said, willingly ignoring what his child just did and as if he was telling her everything was ok Lila was glad she was not alone anymore. She followed Dad and also stayed close to him while they were standing in the car rental pickup line. Standing in line, her mom decided that it was a good time to do a quick diaper check. She tried to pull on Lila's back of her pants, when her daughter quickly turned away and leaned closer to dad “Mom!” she exclaimed, “people are going to see!” “Don’t worry, no one’s going to think badly of you. And I just have to make sure that your diaper was holding up after your accident. You don't want to have a messy leak in the rental car after all. So do you let me check your diaper?” replied Mom with a loving smile while she did not even bother to lower her voice. “Mum ... !“, Lila tried to make a futile argument, while her dad just looked her in the eyes. “Really baby. No one knows you here, so it’s okay you don't need to feel ashamed about accidents while using diapers for traveling.” he underlined Mum's argument. The girl was really embarrassed now and hid her face in her dad's shirt. Lila felt loved, and she trusted her parents, but at the same time, she felt like a small toddler being checked for a messy accident. “I will have a short look.", her mum announced once more. Lila just moved her head in approval, while she felt her mum touch her bum and felt a tiny pull at her waistband and the back of her diaper. “You will be fine for now.”, she announced after a second. Getting her diaper checked by Mom was embarrassing, not only because they were in public, but also because it was their parent’s proof that she had indeed messed herself. Oh well, thought Lila. Her parents had surely smelled it already, and they would see it when she was in the hotel room. Dad hurried away with the clerk from the rental company and got over to the pick-up point. The mother and daughter couple patiently waited outside, where the company put some benches for all the waiting customers. With all the arriving passengers, nearly all seats were taken, and her mum just got the last free spot. “Do you like to sit on my lap again?”, she offered her girl, as she knew her feet were hurting after the long day of traveling. “But I have just...”, Lila stumbled as discreetly as she could, while at the same time she could not confess that she had a messy load in her diaper. “I am your mum, I don't mind your little skunky bum, and I have seen and changed you a lot in the past years”, she calmed her down, while not even confirming that this accident was a one-time ever event for her childlike small but already teenage daughter. Lila slowly sat on her mom's lap, while the strange feeling of the soft mess now spread all over her boom, confused her senses and created the strong childish need to cuddle with her mum. As her mum wrapped her loving arms around her, she no longer could stand being the independent teeny anymore but hid her face on mum's shoulder, ignoring what she might look like. Feeling her body so close and being loved by her mum was all she needed to leave her grumpy teenage thoughts behind. “Hi, you sleepy head, you have a really comfortable seat don't you”, her dad greeted her daughter as he arrived with their rental car and took their heavy luggage into the trunk. “Yes Daddy”, she cheered, not yet ready to let Mum go. “Lila is so sweet and affectionate today.”, her mother responded. “Do you want to cuddle your daddy too?”, the man offered his darling a chance to leave her mom's lap. She hugged him, still experiencing the irresistible childlike love for her parents. As if her dad had been on a week-long business trip, she now was clamping on him, even not letting him go as he lifted her up as a little girl. “We had a small issue with the car arrangement.”, the strong man on her shoulder, told his wife. “They did not have a booster for our Lila. The only possibility was the safer but more expensive child seat option for younger ones, but at least they did not charge us extra.” Feeling so much love from him, the girl could not protest, but she still didn't want it to be too childish. “What kind of child seat?”, she found the courage to ask, interrupting her parent's discussion. “Oh, it is a nice one in a purplish red color”, he advertised. Without dropping his girl to the ground, he took her over to the backseats of the car, opening the door and revealing a full-sized seat that even had shoulder straps as a seat for a rally driver. First, she wanted to protest that she was not a baby, but then the love from her parents and the comfortable hug lulled her into thinking twice about it. Wasn't her diaper the same thing, something childish, that could actually feel nice and comfortable? “Oh I am sure you are in for trouble”, his wife commented on the seat that her husband had chosen, remembering all the discussions she had with her daughter in the past weeks. Lila did not want to be a grumpy vacation Grinch, and maybe she also wanted to show her mum that she was wrong. “It is ok, at least we will have one, and we can enjoy our time here.” Her teenage side enjoyed the surprised feeling on her mum's face. “I think our big girl is not as grumpy and cranky as you think. Can I let you down to try it? It may be a little difficult with the buckles.” “But Daddy, I still want to cuddle with you.”, she confessed that the child in her was back in command. Slightly caught off guard, he whispered, “Do you mind if I tuck you in?”, he suggested, remembering the countless times that he placed his sleepy or sad daughter in the back of their car. “Yes Daddy” she mumbled while the only important thing was that he did not let her down on the hot and hard street. With some well-trained moves, he opened the door and let her slip on the seat. Without thinking, she put her hands in the shoulder straps and let him close the buckle with a click. Lila wiggled a little And while she noticed the lack of space to move, she somehow also felt comfortable. She liked the soft fabric and the small pillow that was there for her head. “I like it”, she confirmed again. And as the adults smiled a little, she added, “Just don't make me use it at home when my classmates see me. Ok?” The two adults, who were still astonished by the change in her teenage girl’s temper, got in at the front. With the push of a button, they opened the window a bit to let in the fresh summer vibes and to keep Lila's poopy smell at bay that still kind of lingered around her. As the drive was getting boring, she had time to think about all the things that changed while they left their city apartment. Most of all was that she, despite all her doubts, actually liked her diapers and the freedom she had to pee or even poop whenever she needed. But there was also the trust and love for her parents that was crowing again, as if her puberty had never sent the first confusing ideas in her mind. Making her more cranky than she actually wanted to be. ### Excited about the new place, Lila jumped on the queen-size bed in their hotel room. Her parents had just checked themselves in at the reception, and the young girl could not wait to explore everything the place had to offer. There were so many nice things she could think about that she nearly forgot about her messy diaper, that she still wore under her slightly childlike shorts. Mom had started unpacking all their bags, while her Dad headed down to the lobby, surely parking their car in the hotel's parking garage. As the last empty bag was packed away, her Mom looked at her girl. Lila was lying on the bed, checking out the kid's channels on TV while thinking about the hotel pool and the waterslides that they had here. The last things that Mom left on the bed were Lila's old travel changing mat and a fresh pack of wipes. “Honey, come, let us get that poopy diaper of yours changed.” Mom announced as she placed the mat and her wipes next to her on the bed. “Can you lift your tushie for a moment, baby?” “I am not a baby” she insisted, ignoring the obvious smell and still letting her mum slide the changing pad up under her back. Then she raised her skirt over her belly. With her hand, she signaled her girl, that she could lie back down Lila could feel the soft but water-impermeable layer around her changing area and noticed that she was indeed acting as if she was a baby girl. And while noticing that, she became a lot more self-conscious about the embarrassing thing she did. “Mom you know, I think I have to clean that up by myself.” offered Lila embarrassed, and at the same time she simply wanted to vanish into thin air. But still, she trusted her mum that she would not leave her alone with all the mess she had in her diaper. Maria placed her hand on her kid's belly, “I will do that, honey. I promised that when I told you to go poopy.” replied Mom. “Besides, when you were a baby, I’ve changed your poopy diapers a ton of times, and I really don't mind doing it again today.” Lila relaxed as she heard that, she relented in relief and slowly spread her legs, making it at least as easy as possible for her Mom. “Oh, this diaper is full.” giggled Mom as she opened the tapes, revealing the mess on her booty. “I am sorry. Your mummy should have changed your way earlier. This must have been very uncomfortable.” “It was not that bad, Mom, I nearly forgot about that after some moments.”, replied Lila honestly. “You know actually ...“, she continued, before her embarrassment suddenly stopped her. “Actually, ...?” continued her Mom, as she softly began wiping down Lila’s messy tushie. “It’s just… I don't know, it made the trip much easier for me and I kind of liked it a little, I guess…” stumbled Lila. “And I really hate to go to the smelly bathrooms. In my diapers I felt so loved and protected as if I am still your little child.”, she confessed. “You are always my child and I love you.”, she told Lila and Mom continued wiping in silence as the young girl enjoyed the feeling of the cold, soothing wipe gently rubbing against her skin while being so close to her mum. As Maria rolled up the dirty diaper, she kissed her belly. “You are all clean now.” exclaimed her mom, waiting for a second to see if she would stand up to get her panties on. But as the moments passed, it was clear that there was more Lila wanted from her. And with a sarcastically strict voice, she said, “Now, we have something to discuss, my little one. You know, I used to insist that you wear pull-ups in the past because I didn’t want you stressing about having an accident, especially since you wet the bed pretty often.” She paused for a second to see Lila’s reaction and when there was no sign of refusal she continued, “Today I promised you that you could switch back to wearing undies this year. But, you had accidents in them a lot today, and you told me you also liked the security and comfort that they gave you. So I thought we might as well keep you in diapers like what we’ve always done, or do you really want to switch back to underwear right now and just wear them as bed-wetting briefs at night?” Mom’s question surprised Lila. She did enjoy her diapers a little on the trip, and she just told her that it was comfy and made her feel protected and small. She now regretted her strong refusal. And while her pride as a teenager was on the line, she truthfully did want to be diapered again. “Do you mind if I choose the diapers?”, confessed Lila with her face red like a tomato... “Of course not, my girl. I think those will give you a much more relaxed vacation if you don't have to worry about bed-wetting when you are tired.”, said Mom, who then went to grab some fresh diapers and powder from the closet. “But how can I go to the bathroom and pee when I wear them, I mean they are real diapers and not just pull-ups” the girl wondered as she felt the soft fabric under her bum. “Oh.” Her mum replied, “I really don't mind you using them when you need to go, and if we have a toilet close by you just come with me and I help you to get to the potty” Gently, she fluffed up another plain white diaper, placed it under her booty, and sprinkled a little bit of powder. After checking the alignment was right and nothing was too tight, she taped the diaper in place and carefully adjusted the leak guards, as Lila rolled over at her belly and giggled. “You are done, baby”, she said as she gave the diaper a gentle pat “Could you tell me when you need a change.” her mum reminded her of their mutual agreement that they had on their previous trips. “Okay.” nodded Lila. The little girl somehow was conflicted. Wearing a diaper, wetting and pooping in it was surely supposed to have been so shameful. Especially for a young woman her age, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the strange feeling at all. And getting her diaper changed by her mom was supposed to be extremely embarrassing at thirteen. But for her, it was different. It felt somewhat nice. She felt like a loved child and enjoyed the childish affection and trust, she experienced while returning into this nearly lost stage of their mummy-daughter relationship.

Chapter 35: Unrest Little in Love 2 – LittleFallenPrincess “And so unrest consumes the country for a fifth day.” The news reporter began their segment. “There is a warrant out for Ms Clarke’s arrest, as she is believed to be the instigator of the protesting and rioting, after her adorable speech earlier this week.” My team and I stood around the monitors, watching the latest propaganda news segment being broadcast. “Does this…?” I began to ask Dotty, who was sitting at the computer, looking exhausted. “Have subliminal hypnosis intended for littles? Yes. Thankfully we have our filter program which blocks out any hypnosis they are trying to push into our heads.” Dotty explained to me. “Otherwise we’d be giving up the fight and giving in, shitting ourselves as we babble incessantly.” “Exactly. Thankfully, most littles are either already out protesting and aren’t watching the news, mostly they avoid the news because they know it’s dangerous for them, or they were already adopted and regressed. The Amazons think this will work, but they really underestimate us. This will barely affect any littles.” “Right, I need to…” “You need to get some rest, Olivia.” Dotty said to me, trying to sound stern. “I’m fine.” “You’ve barely been sleeping since you took over. You’re doing a great job, and we’re helping as many protesters as possible, especially the littles. We’ve infiltrated the systems the Amazons are using, to keep one step ahead of them and try to disrupt them as best we can. But you need to sleep.” “I’ll sleep once this is over.” I replied, sounding more like a brat than a leader. “When do you think this will end? Today? Tomorrow? Or will this continue for weeks? Months? Years?” She said, raising her eyebrow at me. “Don’t care. I’ll have a nap later.” “You’ll have a nap, right now, missy…” I heard a voice coming from the entrance to LIBRA’s hidden operation. “Oh hey Claire!” I responded. “How is Malcolm?” “He’s helping organise things on the east side of the city. Eve has got the hospital locked down, only allowing littles through who have been regressed by the police or by the police’s Amazon allies.” Claire responded, walking over to me. “And what about Charlie? Is she okay?” “That friend of hers is looking after her. She says Charlie is fine for now, but still no sign of her waking up.” I sighed, trying to rub the tiredness from my eyes, as I looked back to the monitors. “This can’t go on forever. It’s bad out there. Maybe not warzone bad, but it’s still bad for everyone involved, especially littles.” I said, groggily. “How does this end?” Dotty asked, looking away from her screen at me. “Either we win, the people get what they want, and we enact real change for the betterment of everyone in this country… or we all lose and we end up shitting our nappies and sucking on our toes in nurseries across the country.” “Can I go for option A?” She smiled awkwardly at me. “We’ve heard no comment from the government, they don’t seem to be backing down, so we have to prepare ourselves for option B…” “At least you’ll have a great Mummy…” Dotty laughed, awkwardly. “As if they’d let me stay with my wife… they’ll declare her unfit to be a mother and put me with some little-hating arsehole who will wipe my mind.” “Girls… let's move away from this topic, I can see you both visibly shaking.” Claire said, thankfully distracting us both. “The west and north sides of the city have got their assignments and everything is being handled.” “And the south?” I asked. “Not heard back from them yet. I was going to go check in on them…” I quickly interrupted her. “Can I come?” “Liv… we know it’s too dangerous for you to leave. Not now anyway, not with the police looking for you and every anti-little Amazon out there trying to be the one to adopt you.” “But I’m getting a little stir crazy in here…” I wasn’t exaggerating, being stuck in this place for nearly a week has made me miss fresh air and sunlight. It was barely hours after I arrived that the Chief of Police broadcast that they had a warrant out for my arrest. So after a very brief discussion in which everyone made sure to tell me just how dangerous it is for me to even show my face outside the windows, and how important I am to the cause right now… I was basically imprisoned within LIBRA HQ. At least they set me up a little room off to the side, which was basically a closet, just for me. It had a bed, some spare clothes and just enough room to change in. But aside from changing my clothes in the morning… I barely used the room. I had the occasional nap when I was forced to, but I was too focused on helping people out there from here at LIBRA HQ, trying my best to lead a team I was still getting to know. It was a lot, and involved what were probably some of the most stressful and terrifying things I had ever had to do, but the thought of what would happen if we failed gave me the drive to continue. Problem was… without Charlie I was close to my breaking point, and if we didn’t have some kind of positive change soon… I was going to crash and burn. And then I wouldn’t be useful to anyone. At least I knew Charlie was in good hands, Eve and Faith were working tirelessly on not only helping littles who had been affected by hypnosis during the protests, but also on helping Charlie. One of the first things that I did when I got here was ask about the hypnosis they had developed that would work on Amazons. Thankfully, Dotty was all too happy to give me the machine that had been used on Charlie to give to Faith, hoping that she could reverse engineer it to create a fix for my wife. “Liv, go lay down. You’ve barely slept, you’ve barely eaten, and you’ve not had any time to yourself…” Claire repeated. “But…” Claire gave me her sternest ‘do it now, little lady’ face, making me quake in my boots. “Right, can you handle things without her?” Claire asked Dotty. “We’ll be fine. You go rest, Olivia.” Dotty replied. “Come on then, Liv…” Claire said, lifting me up, plopping me on her hips and carrying me off to the little room that had been made up for me. “Won’t you doing this… undermine my leadership or something?” I asked as Claire carried me on her hip through the back corridors. “Hun… we’re all worried about you. They all love you, you’re doing a great job. If it wasn’t for you… the protests would have been quashed days ago. Your organisation and your leadership has ensured we’ve had the right resources and the right people in the places we needed them most. We’ve stopped countless arrests because of you. Now you need to rest. A few hours in bed won’t hurt the cause, don’t worry.” “But…” “If anything changes, regarding the protests or Charlie, I’ll wake you up straight away, don’t worry, Princess.” I could feel something within me stir a little at being called that. It wasn’t enough to make me feel that headspace again, but it was enough to alert me that it still exists. That even after everything with not-Charlie… that side of me wasn’t completely ruined. Problem was… I wasn’t sure how long it would take for that side of me to heal. And also how it’d react with actual Charlie babying me… because a large part of me worried that that bridge had been burned and wasn’t being rebuilt any time. I guess I’ll have to wait and find out… if Charlie ever wakes up… “I know you haven’t had anything to occupy yourself other than the protests, and I also know you haven’t eaten much…” “Snitches…” I pouted as Claire opened the door to my ‘room’ and placed me gently on the bed. “So I got you a few things whilst I was out.” I looked to my side to see a brown paper bag. And the inner child within me squealed in delight at the thought of a surprise, so I quickly grabbed it and opened it to find a sandwich, a packet of crisps, a drink and… a colouring book, along with some crayons. “I… I don’t know if…” “Hey Liv, you don’t have to if you’re not up for it. I just thought it may be a good, simple idea for you to get your mind off things and focus on something else for ten minutes. So you’ve got 20 minutes to eat and colour, then I’m checking in on you. If you’re not in bed by then… I’ll put you to bed myself. Including a bedtime story…” “A bedtime story… from Claire? Oh wow… I must be really special…” “Oh Olivia… of course you are! Before our little team got together, I felt lost. But then I met you and Malcolm and Eve and… well, I gained a family. I love you just as if I would my kid sister, if I had one.” “You never talk about your family…” “They’re all gone. But maybe I’ll tell you about them, once this is all over. But you have to be good, eat some food, and get some sleep!” “What about LIBRA?” I asked. “What about them?” “You had them before you met us…” “They allowed me to do some good in the world. But it felt more like helping an organisation than helping the littles themselves. Especially as an Amazon in a littles rights organisation, I felt like a bit of an outsider, even if a good number of us are Amazons. It was your team that made me feel special… wanted… loved. So if you want that bedtime story… the offer is there…” “I’ll hold you to that offer… in the future. Maybe I’ll get Charlie to let you babysit.” I smiled up at her. “I could probably do with the practice, now that I have a baby on the way.” “Are you still being careful out there? I don’t want you, or the baby, getting hurt whilst all this is going on.” “Liv… you worry too much, now get some sleep. I’ll check in on you in a while.” I smiled up at her and nodded as she closed the door. As soon as the door shut, I grabbed the sandwich and rabidly tore open the packaging, shoving the food into my mouth like I hadn’t eaten in days. Which… I genuinely can’t remember how long it had been. “Liv…” “Huh?” I replied, my eyes still firmly closed as I was curled up in the foetal position, the blanket wrapped around my body tightly. “Wake up, Liv…” “Jus… ten more minutes…” I mumbled out loud. “Liv… wake up!” “Huh… wha?” I asked as I shot out of my sleepy haze and the world started loading in around me. “Liv… it’s Charlie… she woke up!” Claire said, sitting at the end of my bed. “SHE WHAT?” I yelled, jumping up in bed so I was now upright. I felt a surge of relief flow through my body and an excitement I couldn’t hold in as the news that my wife had woken up triggered a burst of energy within me. “She’s still a bit out of it, but she’s slowly coming to.” “WHEN?” I said, diving out of bed and grabbing my shoes, pulling them closer so I could get them on and go. “A few minutes ago. Faith sent a message as soon as she could.” “I need to see her!” “And I’ll take you, but…” Claire sighed. And all of a sudden… that burst of energy had gone. If you follow good news with a ‘but’, it never ends well. Suddenly that excitement and energy… was replaced with fear and dread. “But what, Claire?” “You have a call…” She sounded nervous. “From who?” “...The Prime Minister.” “How did he…?” “We disabled the tracking in your phone, but we left it on in case they tried to contact you.” They had taken my phone from me shortly after I first arrived at LIBRA HQ, worried that as I’d be a priority target, I’d be tracked. I hadn’t known they’d kept it on the whole time. I bet I had loads of messages from friends and family worried about me days ago. At least Claire had the sense to go around and take our friends and family to safehouses, as the police would no doubt go for my parents, Charlie’s parents, my friends… basically anyone I had regular contact with. “What does he want?” “He wants… to speak to you.” “But Charlie…” “Can wait. She’s awake, but she’s still not herself.” “The hypnosis removal didn’t work?” “Oh it did… but she’s still in a bit of a daze. She’s been awake for literally minutes. So first, Prime Minister, then your wife.” “Fine. Let’s go see what that windbag wants to offer us…” ======================================================= If you haven't seen, I'm now up and running on Subscribestar! (Sorry for the reminder again, trying to get my subscribers back after the Patreon rubbish!) ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my patrons for their support over the past couple of years! Seriously, your support meant the world to me, and I hope to be set up somewhere new soon. New chapters of Little in Love 2 every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Sent $50

I don't know enough about the platforms you mentioned to really offer much sound advice, other than to say that I've been a DL pretty much my entire life - I can't remember ever not being fascinated with diapers and wearing them, etc. I'm married and I have a family. and opening up about this to my wife felt fraught with risk and was terrifying, really, and it took me a long time to do it. In the meantime, I had diapers hidden around the house and I wore them when my family was away, or when I was away on trips, and I didn't, and I don't consider that to be in any way cheating on her. I wasn't meeting up with people - that could be a different story, depending on what was involved, I guess - but, in any relationship, there has to be some psychological space that is just yours, and some that is just theirs. Expecting two people to be completely open books to each other about everything is probably unrealistic, and something like this can feel like a bombshell, in that it could potentially imperil everything that he likes about his relationship with you, if you consider it to be immediately the most important aspect of his personality, and, particularly if you also find it objectionable. In the end, I "came out" to my wife because I knew that sooner or later, she would probably find out, and I figured we were both better off if that happened on a prescribed timeline, and not some Wednesday afternoon when she's searching for a tire pump and comes across a case of giant toddler diapers in the back of the garage, or whatever. Your partner probably wishes now that they'd been more proactive, rather than waiting for you to step on this landmine of sorts, but, it's a huge step - most people's attitudes about diapers were formed when they were very, very young - diapers are for babies, diapers are gross, diapers are shameful, nobody wants to wear diapers, why would you want to do that? So, expecting understanding and openness from you on the topic could be considered wildly optimistic, even in a really good relationship. I wouldn't use their hiding of "this" interest as a litmus test for the health of your entire relationship, is what I'm saying. And if it's really not a big deal to you, then once they believe that, they are going to be ecstatic, most likely, and your relationship will be stronger than ever.

Seventy-Five Paige was a year older than I was. She went to college with plans of being a teacher, but realized rather quickly that she just didn’t have the passion for education that she thought she did. After dropping out, she took on a few small jobs–hoping that she’d figure out what she actually wanted to do sooner than later. She didn’t. But then her sister, who wasn’t just in a band–but, apparently, a rather well-known rock band that was getting airplay on the radio–offered a room at her apartment to Paige. If, for no other reason, than to get Paige away from their parents, who nagged Paige everyday about when she was going to go back to school. For the record, I had never heard of the band her sister was in. But she played me one of their songs, and I thought it was alright. Nobody asked Paige to get a job, but she felt it was only fair that she contribute a little money towards food and internet–since she had been consuming a lot of both. Hence, the pizza delivery job. She liked horror movies, chimichangas, and reading sapphic erotica while laying in bed at night. She was currently taking a little hiatus from weed, as she feared she had been building a resistance to it–but she felt like she was just about ready to be stoned again. Her middle name was Helen. Her childhood dog was named Sam. She still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She sighed, taking a sip from her third pint. “...and, I guess that pretty much catches you up with who I am.” “I feel like we’re besties now,” I said, only sort-of joking. I had given her some details about myself–carefully picking and choosing the least scary details from my life to share. I told her about the complicated relationship I had with my mother–but not that she had been sent photographs of my messy diaper. I told her that I was working for a big corporation, and that I left with my boss to work for her new company–but not that I was living with her or that she kept my cock locked in a cage. I told her that I had also put my education on pause because I needed time to figure myself out–but not that ‘figuring myself out’ also entailed getting potty trained for the second time in my life. As best as I could tell, she still seemed fond of me. “And no stinky diapers?” she asked. “You’re really hoping that I poop my pants, aren’t you?” “I’m just so curious!” “Yeah, but what then?” I asked. “Then I’m wearing a really dirty diaper. Best case scenario–I have to change myself somewhere. And do I really want to change my messy diaper in a bar bathroom? I didn’t even like to piss in one before I wore diapers all the time. Worst case scenario–I have to ride the train home in said diaper. Stinking up the place.” “Okay…but you have everything you need in your diaper bag, right?” she asked, pointing to my bookbag. “Sure.” “So, if you had to change yourself before going home, there’s a lot of places you could do it besides a bar’s bathroom.” I should’ve seen where she was going with this, but my ability to pick up social cues was still pretty rusty. “I guess. But I’d still need to find a place to…” “I was talking about my place,” she said, stopping just short of rolling her eyes at me. “If you need a place to change yourself, my place isn’t that far from here.” “Oh.” It didn’t seem like a bad idea. Except… “Oh!” Going to her place was a surefire way to find myself needing to explain my chastity. And Mommy. And every other crazy part of my life that I wasn’t sure if she was ready for or not. “No pressure, of course. Just saying that it’s an option.” “Right,” I said. I didn’t want to commit to anything just yet. “I really appreciate that.” “So, obviously people know that you wear them,” she said. “But is that, like, the scene you’re in? Your friends all wear diapers too? You have, like, diaper parties?” “Diaper parties sound kind of nice,” I laughed. “Whatever those are. Yes…some of my friends wear them too.” Again, we were on the verge of going too deep into my bizarre world. I wanted to pull back a little. “That’s a good thing, though,” she said. “Right? You don’t ever feel alone in it.” “That’s true.” I supposed I had the same thought once or twice, but I didn’t think about it nearly as much as I should’ve. “I told a friend of mine,” she shrugged. “Well, he’s a friend, but he’s also more than a friend.” “A boyfriend?” “No, no. More like a…friend with benefits? A ‘no strings attached’ sort of thing.” “Ah.” I wasn’t sure how interested I should sound on that. Did I want to know if they were still enjoying their ‘benefits’ together? Was that any of my business? Really, it was a question for myself: How much do I care? I didn’t think I cared too much, honestly. My world was rife with non-standard relationships and loosely defined borders between friendships and…whatever it was when a friend changed your diaper. If anything, it was almost relieving to hear that Paige had other relationships–romantic or not–in her life. “I don’t think he cares for it much,” she shrugged. “Not everyone is going to.” “He at least heard me out. I guess that’s something.” “So he doesn’t care that you’re into it–he just doesn’t want to deal with it himself?” “Exactly.” I was curious to know what she wanted. Did she want a relationship? A partner? An actual boyfriend? Or was she just looking for a playmate while she explored her blooming kinks? I kept the questions to myself–they didn’t seem important enough yet. “So…” Her mouth extended the ‘ooo’ sound as she cautiously glanced around to make sure that we still had our little area all to ourselves. “I think I’ve got to pee.” I smirked. “Oh yeah?” “I’ve never peed in public…” “It’s not hard.” “Easy for you to say,” she laughed. “You probably do it all the time. You’re literally sitting in your own pee-pee pants right now.” I blushed–’pee-pee pants’ was still an effective way to embarass me, no matter how true it was. “So?” I shrugged. “Are you going to do it?” “I might. I just have to figure out how.” I knew that feeling. God, it felt like so long ago when I felt that way. So long ago that I was tempted to say that it never happened at all–that I was always just sure of myself in a diaper. But I knew that wasn’t true. I could remember the panic and anxiety that came with using my diapers in the office, or out of the house. It was almost cute how Paige was getting to experience that now. One day, perhaps, she’d be as natural a baby as I was. “It’s easier than you think it is. It’s more mental than physical.” She nodded. “I figured. My body doesn’t think I should be peeing if there’s something covering up my…” We both laughed, a shared juvenile giggle over how it was somehow more embarrassing to name our genitals than it was to talk about diapers. “I can do this,” she said, trying to stifle her laughter. “Just…give me a minute…” “No pressure from me,” I assured her. “Only do it if you want to. And if you can.” “I had to pee when I got here,” she said. “And then with the beer on top of that… Look, I have to pee. If I went to the restroom right now, it’d probably sound like a waterfall when I was on the toilet.” “But then you’d have to sit on a public toilet.” She shrugged. “True. See? Maybe diapers made more sense the whole time. Just think of how many germs and diseases you’ve avoided by not having to touch a public toilet.” This was actually a good point, I thought. “People can criticize me for wearing dirty diapers, but maybe I’m actually in better shape than they are.” “In the future, we’ll all be wearing diapers to avoid butt-germs. You’ll be seen as a trendsetter.” “I wouldn’t go that far…” “Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, her eyes large. “I…I think I’m about to…” I couldn’t help but squirm in my own soggy diaper a little as I watched relief wash over her face. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t hear it. But I knew it was happening, and that was absolutely thrilling for me. She wasn’t just wetting herself–she was wetting herself in public for the first time. “Oh wow,” she said quietly. “That’s a fucking rush, huh?” I wanted to tell her that she was only at the very tip of the iceberg–but maybe that was a discovery that she’d have to make for herself. “Feels good, huh?” I asked. She nodded. “Uh huh. But, like, on multiple levels. There’s the feeling of the diaper itself and then there’s the feeling I have of sitting here while the rest of this bar is oblivious to what I just did.” “It’s a good feeling,” I smiled. “It’s a fucking drug is what it is,” she laughed. “If it feels like this everytime, I can see why you just don’t ever take them off.” She was right, I supposed. Of course, like any drug, you’d eventually adapt to the dosage you were taking and needed more. And now look at me–to get that dopamine hit now, I had to almost-literally become a baby. “What now?” she asked. I shrugged. “Now? Just try not to leak, I guess. And don’t get a diaper rash.” She held a hand up to her mouth as she giggled. “Have you ever…had a diaper rash?” “Once or twice.” Honestly, it was probably more than that, but for whatever reason, I felt the need to downplay it a little. What I really wanted to tell her was that diaper rash was inevitable–but, again, it felt best to let her figure that out for herself. “I feel like I’m swimming in this thing.” “It’s a nice feeling, right?” “It’s so warm!” “It won’t stay that way forever,” I said. “Enjoy that warmth while you can.” “Thank you,” she said. “F-for what? You’re the one who wet your pants. Not me.” She laughed. “No, silly. Thank you for being here. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for–I don’t know–introducing me to this crazy world you live in. You’ve been so open about it all. I don’t think I’d have been as comfortable exploring these interests for myself if you hadn’t been. You’re like my, uh, diaper-guru.” Nobody had ever called me that before–maybe nobody in the history of the world had ever been called that. “Uh, thanks.” “What now, guru? What’s the next step in my padded becoming?” “One thing at a time, my…padawan.” She blinked her eyes and offered a friendly smile, but the pun seemed to have gone over her head. “Star Wars?” “What about it?” “Never mind…” “So, like, have you ever had your diaper changed by someone else?” Paige asked, her voice getting a little more hushed again. She had slid her seat a little closer to mine so that our knees were touching. The temptation was strong to just laugh in her face and declare that a rarer occurrence would be me changing my own diaper. “Y-yeah, it’s happened before.” “What is that like? That’s got to be a real trip too, huh?” This was, still, a pretty easy question to answer. Because, regardless of how many times my diapers were changed, it was still an experience I cherished. “It’s the best. Like…it might just be my favorite thing.” Her cheeks were a little more pink now, with a sheepish grin between them. Her eyes looked at me hungrily, like she wanted much more of me than she thought she could ask for. “I think I’d like to experience that.” It seemed clear what she was actually saying: ‘Come back to my place. Change my diaper. I’ll change yours.’ I regretted, now, hyping up diaper changes like that. As badly as I wanted to go to her place, it just felt like a bad idea. Things would spiral out of control–like they always did. I’d be left with my chastity exposed, and having to explain a lot to her. What was I supposed to do, then? Cut the night short and leave before things could escalate any further? Tell her, flat out, that I wasn’t going to go back to her apartment tonight? Feign an emergency so that I could leave without having to explain myself? No, I didn’t do any of that. Instead, I found myself saying: “Well…if you need some help changing yourself…” “Yes,” she spat out before I could even finish my sentence. “I’d really like that.” You fool. “Did you, uhm, want to go and…” “Yes,” she said, again cutting me off. “Let’s go back to my place.” “Well…” “Are you okay with that?” she asked. I could’ve said no. She was literally giving me the opportunity I wanted to decline. But I just couldn’t bring myself to say it. I didn’t want to shut down her enthusiasm. And, selfishly, there was a part of me that wanted to go too–even if I knew it was a bad idea. “I’m okay with that.” “Good,” she said. “Let’s go.” We finished our drinks, settled our tabs, gathered our things, and made our exit from the bar. I was about a pace behind her, giving her the lead to direct me to her apartment. I was still well aware of how bad of an idea this was, of course–it was all I could think about. My stream of thought at this moment was just a barrage of “I shouldn’t be doing this. Why am I doing this? What am I going to do? What am I going to say? Is it too late to bail? Can I tell her I changed my mind?” It was at this moment that I felt a cramp in my abdomen. I knew what that usually meant–my diaper would soon be getting heavier. I recognized this as the reality check that I needed–the reminder that I was better off not going to her house tonight. No, this is good. I thought that I could consider this part of my potty training. I’d managed to make it twenty-something years without pooping my pants. I could do this. I could make it through the night without humiliating myself in a messy diaper. I can do this. I said it to myself again, just to reiterate its importance: I can do this. “Do you know this area?” Paige asked, seemingly oblivious to my internal conflict. “I think so. We’re not too far from where I used to live, right?” “Yeah,” she said. “Your apartment would be, like, three or four blocks down that way.” “And how far are you from here?” “I’m right there,” she said, pointing to the building across the street. “Wow. Not that far away.” The words almost didn’t mean anything now. I wasn’t living at my old apartment anymore, so it didn’t even matter if she was actually my next-door neighbor. “What do you say?” she asked. “Want to come in?” “Let’s do it,” I replied, smiling. I felt another pang of discomfort in my bowels. I can do this. I can do this. It was an older building–most of them in this part of the city were–but at least it looked like the owners had been keeping up with the maintenance. The carpets looked new and the walls freshly painted. Even the vibrant white light seemed to make a huge difference–whereas the yellowed lighting of my old building seemed to age everything by a decade or so. I followed Paige up the steps, she was about a step or two ahead of me. It was here that I smelled it–the all-too-familiar scent of wet diapers. I may have been smelling my own diaper, but I somehow knew it was hers–as if I could just tell that I was stepping into the little clouds of pee-scent that she left behind her. I found it exhilarating. Intoxicating. I wanted nothing more than to open her diaper and stick my face into it. Control yourself. “Oh, sorry,” she said, somewhere around the third floor. “There is an elevator. But it’s kind of small and scary, so I don’t use it.” “Oh,” I said. “Uh, no worries. This is good exercise.” And it was, except for the fact that every single step was jostling my innards and making my need to poop even more urgent. I can do this. “But don’t worry. I’m on the next floor.” “Good,” I gasped, running out of breath. My toddler lifestyle didn't include much exercise. I had managed to avoid putting on much weight, but I was still pretty out of shape. By the time we were walking through the front door of her apartment, I felt like a walking disaster. My wet diaper was sagging considerably. I was breathing heavily. The scent of Paige’s diaper had me ridiculously horny, despite my cage turning that sensation into discomfort. My bowels felt like they were holding on for dear life. A week ago, I’d have already lost control and filled up the back of my diaper–so I supposed I should be thankful for having as much control as I did. “Okay,” she said to me, closing the door. “So…I have to finish what I started.” “How so?” “Like I said,” she shrugged. “I had to pee before I even got to the bar. And then all the beer on top of that? I’m about to burst again.” “Better out than in,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t giving my bowels any ideas. She didn’t seem to have any issues with using her diaper now. Understandably so, I supposed, as we were in her home and there weren’t strangers around us. Still, she surprised me with just how quickly she let it all go. Within a moment, I could hear the sound of her stream further swelling her diaper. Her eyes were closed, and I watched as her cheeks got a little rosier. “Ohhhh…fuck,” she muttered as she released. “Jesus, that feels good.” Then, she opened her eyes when she finished, finally remembering that I was still there and watching her. “Uhm…sorry you had to hear that.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Don’t worry about it. Believe me, I’ve had that experience plenty of times.” “Can I get you anything?” she asked. “Water? Beer?” “That seems dangerous,” I said. “My diaper is already pretty wet, and…” “Well, you’ve got extra in your bag, right? What’s the big deal?” “Y-yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said. I can do this. “Well, I’m going to get another drink,” she said, pivoting to head into her kitchen. “Do you want something?” “Maybe,” I replied, looking around as I just blindly followed her. Though it was technically her sister’s apartment, it was still a pretty impressive place. It reminded me a bit of Megan’s–though that felt like forever ago now. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the living space of a musician, but the aesthetic seemed surprisingly clean and modern. There were book shelves, record collections, and stereo equipment lining the walls, but all of them seemed well arranged and organized. “This is a beautiful place,” I said. “Well, I can’t take much credit for it. I’m not, like, the cleanest person in the world. So I have to set reminders in my phone to clean this place up so it doesn’t get out of control. If my sister came home and found this place trashed, she’d probably throw me out the window.” “It looks pretty clean to me.” “Today it does,” she shrugged. “You don’t know it yet, but you’ll see. I’m a slacker. A slob. I can get pretty lazy. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more diapers just feel right for me. Like, nothing in the world sounds better to me than getting high as fuck and just sitting in one spot on the couch all day–pooping my pants because I can’t be bothered going to the bathroom.” I laughed. As Mommy’s little baby, I think I had inadvertently lived out that exact fantasy. “I certainly get the appeal of that.” She opened a bottle of beer, holding up a second and pointing it in my direction. I couldn’t say no to her, so I nodded and took the bottle from her hand. “What do you think?” she asked, headed out of the kitchen and back to the living room with her beer. “Maybe we’ll just chill on the couch for a little bit? Later we’ll, uh, do some diaper changes?” That absolutely could not happen. I didn’t want her to see my chastity. Not yet. Hopefully, not ever. Still, I couldn’t help myself from sounding amenable: “Sure. Sounds good to me.” Really, I was just buying myself time to figure out how I’d get out of this. My bowels, meanwhile, were continuing to hold on for dear life. Maybe, gods willing, I could make it through my time at Paige’s without filling my diaper with a stinky mass. But there was no way that I’d be coming home with a clean diaper. I’d have to figure out what to do about that, too. I can do this. I sat down on the couch first, positioning myself towards the end of it so that Paige had all the space to sit with however much distance she wanted between us. But she sat down right next to me–so close that she came incredibly close to just parking her diapered butt on my lap. “Comfy?” she asked. I nodded. “Very.” It wasn’t a lie, I liked having her warm body so close to mine. “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Of course,” I said. “Would it be weird if, like, two babies kissed?” “N-no,” I said. “I don’t think so.” I knew what was coming next, and I made no effort to stop it. She leaned in closer, her hand guiding my face towards hers until our lips pressed together. I was immediately transported to somewhere else. We were in a park now, and it was very late at night. It was Ava’s lips that I was kissing, and it was her hand that was slowly sliding up my thigh towards my diaper. It was Ava’s breast that my hand was cupping, gently squeezing at. I almost said her name aloud. I was glad I didn’t, because I opened my eyes long enough to see that it was Paige’s breast I was squeezing. Paige’s hand that was just about on my crotch. “C-can you excuse me for a minute?” “Oh,” Paige said, her entire body receding from mine. “Of course. Everything okay?” “I…uhm… May I use your bathroom for a moment?” There was a little pause–a moment where I was pretty sure she wanted to make some snarky comment about how I was already wearing my bathroom. Thankfully, the moment seemed to pass quickly, and there was a look of concern on her face as she pointed towards the hallway. “Over there. Second door on the left.” “Thank you.” “Are you okay?” she asked again. “I just, uh… I’ll be right back.” I had no idea what I was doing, and I had no idea what I’d do or say when I came back to the living room either. ‘Sorry about that. Just got overwhelmed while thinking about another girl who I thought I was starting to get over, but as it turns out…I’m still pretty crazy about.’ Yeah, I probably wasn’t going to say that. In the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face. A sharp cramp coursed through my abdomen. I needed to go, and it was quickly getting to the point where my sphincter was just going to give out. I looked down at her toilet. I probably wasn’t going to get out of this bathroom without losing control of myself. And so the only real question was: where would I be when I did? Standing here, letting the back of my diaper fill up? Or would I be sitting on the toilet? It was a test, it seemed. How badly did I want to be an adult?

“Good that’s settled,” Stacey chirped, once again finding her authority voice. She knew the matter was far from settled. Still, Stacey wanted to redirect the conversation. There would be time enough to figure out Ted’s pull-ups. She wanted to get the rest of the rules straight and make the new expectations very clear. The boy was at his most vulnerable right now, so she wanted to capitalize on the moment and make very clear the new expectations. “Now you’ve already had your spanking for breaking the rules about no parties. And we agreed you will do extra chores this week. We expect you to tidy up the kitchen and living room before you go to bed each night. Also clean both bathrooms once before end of the week.” “Okay…” Ted grumbled. Lara still held his hand. When he spoke, she swatted it gently. “Hey no pouting,” she chided. “You’re lucky we’re not making you scrub the floors with a toothbrush.” “Okay,” Ted responded, feigning enthusiasm. Stacey lectured on. “I said you won’t be spanked again, but that’s also up to you. If Lara or I have to remind you to do your chores, I promise you won’t like it.” Ted’s bottom twinged against the hard chair. “Okay…” he muttered. “Then there’s one punishment we have planned,” Stacey paused and looked at Lara. Both of them smiled broadly. “This was La’s idea, so I’ll let her fill you in.” Lara snickered. “Ok since everybody else got to party here over the weekend, but Stace and I missed out… on Thursday we’re having a party with just the three of us.” Ted’s eyes lit up. They were finally speaking his language! He looked at Lara hanging on her next word. “But!” Lara pointed a finger in his face. “You are going to be our bar tender and bus boy.” Ted smiled. He would gladly make drinks and clean up for these lovely ladies! In fact, in that moment, he felt he would do anything they said. “And!!” Lara pointed her finger more sternly and closer to Ted’s face. “You. Will be wearing…. nothing, but your underpants.” She wagged her finger in his face with each word. They all burst into laughter. “Okay okay,” said Ted. “That’s fair.” “Good.” Stacey retook control of the conversation. “And speaking of fair…” From below the table, she pulled the list of rules and punishments. She slid it across the table to Ted. “This is how Lara and I have agreed to handle disputes and bad behavior.” The room was silent while Ted scanned the document. His mind was still swimming, but he tried to focus and make sure he knew what he was getting himself into. The words at the bottom caught his eye first. He remembered what the girls had chanted at him that morning just before Stacey pulled down his pants. “ALWAYS ON THE BARE” The sting in his backside seemed to intensify again, making Ted squirm in his seat. As he breezed through the list of transgressions and punishments, a few stood out: Skipping class was a paddling. He already knew that from overhearing Stacey’s spanking. Dishes left in the sink were punished with a wooden spoon spanking. Again, he’d heard the result of Lara’s kitchen mess last week, but now he knew which implement had been in use. Other various misdeeds brought out the hairbrush or belt. One item caught his eye. To the right of “Missed assignment/deadline or failed exam” the word “paddle” had been crossed out. Above it, in all caps, read “STRAP.” Ted stared at the paper in a daze. He was no longer reading, just trying to process his new reality. If he ditched class, he’d be paddled. If he didn’t clean up after himself, he’d face the spoon or hairbrush. And god forbid he failed a test. What was the “STRAP??” Finally, Stacey spoke again. “You can hang onto that for a little while to familiarize yourself with all the rules. Lara and I are very well versed in them by this point, aren’t we?” Lara blushed. “We are,” she said meekly. Ted just stared at the paper. Stacey wasn’t sure she was being heard, but she continued nonetheless. “Now, you may have noticed the word ‘strap’ written there.” As she spoke, she produced the strap from under the table where it has been hidden in her lap. It landed on the table with a thud. Ted looked up from the paper. The implement before him looked absolutely menacing. Thick, wide leather with a wooden handle, it was sure to deliver serious pain. His mouth was dry, his head spinning. Just looking at it, he was already motivated to get his studies done and not have to face a date with the strap. “This was a gift from Lara,” Stacey said, snapping Ted out his trance. She pointed at the “BFF” etching. “True best friends know when the other is in need of correction. And when to accept correction from their friend. We can both tell you from experience, this strap provides some real correction.” Ted continued staring at the strap, now envisioning the girls using it on each other’s bare asses. Blood rushed to his dick. Lara pulled him from his brief daydream. “Study that list of rules well. Beginning tomorrow, any rule breaking will result in a punishment for you. Stacey and I will still handle discipline for one another, but either one of us will dispense your punishments. Perhaps we’ll take turns,” Lara said, suppressing a giggle. “At the beginning of next semester, we’ll have another discussion about whether you have earned the right to ever give Lara and me any of our spankings.” Ted remained silent. He couldn’t believe what he’d gotten himself into. Stacey pressed on. “Now then, for last bit of your punishment…” Ted’s ears perked up. A look of concern washed over his face. His ass hurt so much, he thought there was no way he could take more. “At bedtime, Lara and I will each give you one stroke with the strap. These spanks will serve to cement your status, and to give you just a taste of the strap as a deterrent.” Lara chimed in. “If you earn a real strapping, it’s a minimum of six strokes.” Stacey forged ahead as Ted sat silently. “After you’re strapping tonight, you’ll be done being spanked for the last night’s misbehavior.” Ted breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t looking for to the strap, but just two quick whacks and it would be over. He thought he could handle that. Stacey continued her authoritative tone. “Why don’t you go do an hour or so of homework,” she said, not asking, “and then it’ll be an early bedtime.” Sleep sounded so good to Ted. He was completely exhausted from the last 24 hours. He was also eager to dispense with this conversation and go back to nursing his sore bottom. Nodding, he stood and started to leave the room. Lara piped up as he did. “Oh and while you’re studying, Stace and I will run out to get you some pull-ups. What did you say the ones you used to wear were called?” Ted flushed red as the subject of his bed wetting came back up. He hesitated, but only for a moment, catching sight of the strap still lying menacingly on the table. “Goodnites,” he muttered. “Ok thanks,” Lara chirped. “Will they have them at the CVS down the street?” Ted nodded, his face growing hotter. He had recently noticed Goodnites on the shelf at CVS when he was cutting through the baby aisle. It had brought back a host of memories at the time. He also had seen that they were making an XL size now… surely big enough to squeeze around his slender hips. “Sounds good,” said Lara. Ted turned to leave. “Oops don’t forget these!” Stacey handed him the list of rules and punishments. Ted snatched the paper and trudged out of the room. The girls held in their giggles only until they heard his bedroom door close.

Well, here goes nothing. I have posted on ABDL sites before but I don't think my heart was really in those stories. That has changed now, this story is one that I have put plenty of work into and I am finally ready to test it out on a real audience. I have a few chapters ready in the coming weeks but, based on how things go I hope to move to a regular schedule as I have lots of plans! Note regarding grammar, well I am terrible at it. I don't have an editor and rely mainly on re-reads and free web grammar checks so, don't judge me too bad, ha! Hope you Enjoy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The sound of a flip-flop smacking the bottom of a foot and the ground in an annoying, repetitive beat filled the car as they approached their destination. “Tara, stop that!” her mother spoke sharply. Tara leaned up from the clenched position she was in at the back of the van and pressed her foot down hard to stop the tapping. She had been holding back her bladder for the better part of the trip. The freeway separating Tara’s house from her mother’s best friend was legendary. She had been holding back the two colas she had pounded at lunch and was thankful the end was nearly in sight. “I keep telling you it's not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself; I thought we were past this.” Diane continued. In her current condition, Tara couldn’t help but agree with her. Ever since she was little, she had issues with bathroom breaks. As a small child, she was potty trained early, but that did not stop her from constantly having accidents. Her mom always said she had her ‘head in the clouds’; she would be so focused on something that nothing else would matter… nothing. As she grew older, Tara continued to have accidents that would go up and down in frequency. When she started school, she earned the unpleasant nickname ‘Tinkle Tara’. Between accidents and a bout with bedwetting when she was 7 and 9 years old, it looked like she was doomed to it. However, for whatever reason, a switch had flipped, and it had been nearly 8 years since ‘Tinkle Tara’ was uttered. On the other hand, in the last few months, Tara has been putting her bathroom training through the ringer. Time after time, she found herself holding her bladder and aching from the effort. Whether it was at the mall, watching a movie, or sitting through classes, the urge to go was becoming more frequent and urgent each time. She had not told her mother that she almost always felt the need to go ‘right now’ whenever she had to pee. It never helped matters that her mother was a health nut and had drilled into her to keep hydrated, so she always was drinking water. It was a habit, but then again, it was only in the last few months that things started to go sideways. Now Tara was also going to be playing ‘big sister/babysitter’ to a 10 year old. Her mother and Brittany’s, had been friends since High School and now work for the same company. Both had been married and are now divorced. With lucrative jobs and a daughter, they were about as close as any family member. So when they both were chosen to go overseas to be in charge of operations in a new business move for the company, they quickly decided the plan. As Tara was 18, she would watch and take care of Britteny until the two mothers got back, which would be around the beginning of the summer. “Now remember, you have to be in charge of Brittany and keep up with your school work. Those are the two most important things,” her mother said, for about the hundredth time. “Mom, I know. I have hung out with Brittany plenty of times before,” Tara countered. “Not for this long and with this many responsibilities. Plus, Cathrine has… Well something else that you are going to have to keep track of,” her mom finished. “Oh?” the girl raised her eyebrow. “She will tell you,” her mother said giving her a look that said, this is serious. As the van pulled into the garage of Cathrine and Brittany’s home, Tara shot like a bullet out the door into the house. Catherine was blurred as she shot for the bathroom in the room she usually stayed in on the second floor. Scrambling through the door, the sight of the bathroom made Tara relax. “No!” she gasped, hurriedly tired to get the button on her shorts undone. She had relaxed too early, and now things were out of control. Finally sitting on the seat, a sharp but blissful relief crept over her. She had not realized how much and how painful this time had been. Tara knew that she should stop doing this but, for now, inspected the damage to her shorts. The whole crotch of the garment was a darker shade of blue and was a lost cause. Luckily, she had one other pair close to these that she could grab from her bag and slip into. This was only the third time this had happened, but it certainly was not something she enjoyed. Slipping into fresh clothes, she made her way back down to the living room to ‘officially’ greet Cathrine and Brittany. “Whew, sorry about that,” she greeted Catherine. “It’s alright, pretty on par for you, ha!” Cathrine jested, then her voice went low,“Follow me to the kitchen.” Her mother was talking with Brittany, and the girl was looking like she did not have much to say, so she followed Catherine. “So there is something that I have been keeping from you; I just told her mother last night,” she let out with a long breath. “Oh no, is something wrong?” Tara blurted out. “No, no, nothing serious, but… Brittany has been having some troubles. Bathroom troubles,” she responded flatly. A heat rose in Tara’s cheeks, and she simply said, “Oh…” “Now I know that you had your own issues, but I recently saw a book about accidents among older children and teenagers. I have Brittany following some rules that are designed to help her get through this phase.” Cathrine explained as she put a hardcover book on the counter. “The front of the book explains how the rules work - the ins and outs as they were. And in the back there is the list of rules and a little chart if you need it,” she went on. Tara picked up the book, and before she could utter a word, Cathrine continued, “You obviously don’t have to read it, and Brittany knows the first two rules by heart now, but you should read them and she has to follow them. Supplies are in the upstairs hall closet.” “Supplies?” the girl questioned. “Well, in a nutshell, Brittany has to use protection whenever she has accidents. The more accidents, the more protection, and the more…eh… privileges she loses.” the older woman explained. “Ah, well, I guess that makes sense.” Tara concluded. She couldn’t believe it, Brittany was in diapers! It was a shock only because there had never been a hint to her that her little friend may have had such troubles. Well, Tara herself was smaller, but not terribly so, but she was still taller by a couple of inches. Brittany had a heart shaped face, round blue eyes, and shorter brunette hair, while Tara had sandy blonde hair past her shoulders, brown eyes, and a longer face. Both had followed their mother’s genes, like matched sets. “Cathrine, we need to get to the airport,” her own mother called out. “Oh yes, coming!” she replied, and then to Tara, “Just read the rules and make sure Brittany follows them, simple as it gets!” With that, she hugged Tara and made her way to the living room, where her daughter and Tara’s mother were. There were the usual tearful goodbyes, as the realization of how long it would be before they were all together again sunk in. All too soon, it was just Tara and Brittany watching TV in silence as the girls both recovered from the painful departure. Tara ordered pizza as a way of cheering them both up, and by the time the large pizza and sodas had been consumed, it was close to bedtime. She, Tara, knew it was time to broach the subject. She decided to do so in a manner that showed she trusted Brittany to know what she had to do. “Well, I guess it is time for bed, Brit,” she stated. Brittany yawned. “Yeah, I guess so.” The girl got up from the couch and made her way to the stairs. “Wait, Brittany!” she called to stop the girl. “Is there something we need to talk about? Some rules?” The younger girl froze, and she stiffened as she turned to face Tara, so she went on the offensive. “Before you say anything, it's alright. I had problems when I was around your age,” she tried to soothe Brittany. “I don’t want to follow the rules without mom,” she almost spat back at Tara. “Look, this will go smoothly if we just follow what your mom wants you to do.” Tara countered. “But… it's just… It's so embarrassing, and I want to just be normal.” Brittany pleaded, “Please don't make me do them.” It nearly broke Tara’s heart to see Brittany clinging onto a small hope that she would be out of whatever she had been enduring. “What exactly are the rules you are supposed to follow, i haven't read them yet because I want you to tell me,” Tara said. “Well, umm… you… There are five rules, and if you have any, you know. Then you start at 1 and go from there.” Brittany mumbled. “I see, and what rule are you on now?” She questioned further. “1B,” Brittany said out of the side of her mouth. “1B?” “Yeah, the first rule has three parts… some kind of like grace period before the rest of the rules, I guess.” Brittany had crossed her arms and had not looked at Tara since she started talking about the rules. “How far have you gone down the list?” Tara asked with complete curiosity. “Just two, but it was awful.” Brittany huffed. Tara was in a bind; she didn’t want to fight Brittany for weeks on end. And she didn’t want to have to deal with Brittany having accidents she could prevent. But most of all, she did want to have fun with Brittany; she really was like a little sister. The girl shouldn’t have to feel alone in this… then it hit her. It was drastic, but it just might work. “Alright, let's look at 1B,” Tara announced. Going into the kitchen, she opened the back of the book and found the page with 1A at the top. She read out, “1A - a single day-time accident will result in a pull-up for 1 day and night.” Turning the page, she also read, “1B - a single night-time accident will result in regular pull-ups for 2 days & night-time pull-ups for 2 nights.” Brittany was bright red but Tara talked fast to ease the embarrassment. “So you…” “The night before last, this is my second night. Mom let me go without during the day today because she was leaving,” the girl clarified. “Good, then we will both follow the rules going forward.” Tara stated. “Both?” Brittany asked. “Both,” she replied. “What good is that? It's still just me that will have to do any of it!” Brittany screeched. “Hold on. Did you see me dash upstairs when I got here?” Tara asked, and the girl nodded. “Well, I didn't quite make it, and my shorts got a bit wet. So I guess that puts me on 1A, right?” she said, matter of fact. “You're lying,” Brittany huffed, but Tara was prepared for this. A quick trip to her room and her shorts from earlier presented to Brittany were all the evidence she needed. “Whoa!” Brittany exclaimed. “Told you, so we will both be in pull-ups tonight. Your mom gave you a break, so we will just go with the pull-ups tonight. And if we are both dry in the morning, this all resets, right?” She asked cheerily. “Yeah, but… but… “ Brittany couldn’t come up with an argument. “Now come on, we are still about the same size; let's see if they fit and we can get off to bed.” Tara led the dumbstruck girl up the stairs and to the closet. It was packed with white boxes, each labeled in the upper corner. The shelf at chest height had two opened boxes, one of the left read ‘Slims’. Thinking these must be the pull-ups she grabbed two, and handed one to Brittany. “Let’s both get pjs on, i will come to your room in about 10 minutes.” Tara said as she closed her door behind her. Throwing the pull-up on the bed, it suddenly hit Tara what she was about to do. It had been so long since she had worn something like that she almost felt as if it stared back at her. As if this meant more than just a means to an end. Shaking her head, she inspected the pull-up; it wasn’t any of the major brands she knew. In fact, it only had an “R” in the center of the waistband to indicate a brand. The sides were just a bit longer than the width of her hand and the padding looked fairly thin, but then it was just a pull-up. Changing into a tank top with thin shoulder straps, she placed her usual PJ pants next to the pull up on the bed. Stepping into the pull-up she began to doubt that she would fit, yet as she dragged it up to her waist, it never seemed to tighten. Standing there, 18 years old, and in a pull-up, it may as well have been fitted for her. It clung to her a bit but didn’t feel tight, and she felt the leg holes conform around her leg just below her butt, a perfect fit. She walked around and noted the extra padding and the overall ‘bulk’ she was not accustomed to as she moved. Satisfied, she pulled her PJs over the pull-up and went to see Brittany. Knocking on the door, the girl called out that she was ready. Tara was momentarily taken aback as Brittany had some small shorts and the diaper spilled out of the top and the sides. “All set?” she asked. “Yeah… I guess,” but Brittany kept glancing at Tara's PJs. Pulling the band of her pants down a bit, Tara showed the top of the pull and said, “Fitted just fine.” Tara began to giggle, and a smile reached Brittany's face as well. Soon they were laughing hard at the situation, and the tension was broken between them. “Night, Brit, see in the morning.” Tara chuckled out. “Night, Tara” was the reply as the younger girl got into bed. Back in her own room, Tara turned off the lights and got under the streets, exhausted. However, she almost immediately realized why Brittany’s shorts were so small. Being under covers, in pants, and in a pull-up was not the most comfortable thing. But tiredness eventually overtook Tara, and she drifted off.

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Spargano, that image of the aftermath of your experience is... horrific to say the least and I'm actually pretty surprised you shared it here. I know you're just looking for some advice but you should know the design and execution was an absolute failure since it looks like something out of a crime scene. A description would do in this case. However, I suppose the only positive thing I can say is this serves as a reminder that this activity does not come without risks. Stent building is not all unicorns and rainbows, but it should absolutely not be attempted before better educating yourself and having a substantial level of experience with catheters. This thread alone has more resources to teach you the rights and wrongs than you should ever need to perform this process safer than you have. I encourage you to go through and carefully read every page of this thread, in addition to the PDF archive we have provided in the OP that provides hundreds of more examples of experiences from stent users before the forum crash. As an aside to Cathdiap, no one here would ever (or is) blaming you for sharing your method with stents. It's even in the title ("My experiences with stents"). Just like everyone in here, we each take full responsibility for our actions and our stent builds. If anything, you have (along with the entire community) helped promote safe practices in stenting and have without a doubt saved dozens of people from having bad experiences and less than ideal outcomes. A couple of things are also for sure, deleting this thread will not stop people from building them, and we've definitely had bigger horror stories than a rogue and bloody design. Best we can do is continue to support those people and emphasize safe practices and education in the art of stent building. Spargano, I can only give you my opinion as it's somewhat unclear with the number of things that went wrong with your design but to me it looks quite massive. I'd also make a less-than wild prediction that your design is not smooth from tip to base. It's also evident your insertion methodology was far too aggressive, likely due to inexperience and a lack of reading the do's and don'ts that have been reiterated here countless times. Lube shouldn't even be necessary at all if you know what you're doing which you clearly don't. My advice is to read this entire thread closely and don't be impatient when educating yourself. If you can manage that I'm sure next time you will have much better luck.

Hey everyone! I added another chapter to this story as I felt I was rushing part of the plot a little too much. I think it probably would have been fine, but this way, I won’t feel like I’m cutting off any of you actually reading this story. This and at least the potential of adding Emma’s perspective into this story will now mean that I won’t be able to finish this story by the end of the month like I was intending to, but it should still be done sometime next week no matter how I do the ending. I also want to mention that I reference my made-up language, Agnustralete, in this chapter. I am currently writing or plotting out several other stories right now, and one of them that still needs a bit of work first introduces the language known as Agnustralete as a plot point. So that no one is confused, because it’s not in my reference guide yet, it’s a language that originated in Australia to shake off the imperialism of Albion in their country. There is a whole language that goes with it, and I won’t say what it means, but the following phrase does mean something: “Yeios djuu'haest u ghw lyrnguashel tut foortheub khonnfuhob u ghw lyetettehnd en ab upcomm'lin haeoreh. Bheownina rhouintos phur yakho nu yakho khaan duunhd'and yeios.” Next, again, I just want to reiterate that I’m still debating on whether I should include the perspective of Emma into this story or not. Let me know your thoughts and I’ll be sure to post my decision by chapter 12. 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! Chapter 10: Two Options; Two Outcomes I suppose it might be safe to say, at least relatively speaking, that we kind of kicked the proverbial hornet’s nest when we decided to go up against Nancy and her determination to practically turn Emma back into a newborn… permanently. We knew it was going to be difficult, especially considering our ‘toy state’ around living beings, but the wrath she had brought since then was something that needed to be seen to be believed. It didn’t take long for even the staunchest of our toy opponents of messing with Nancy’s plans to join our side. At first, Nancy just seemed pissed at the staff. From her perspective, she began to accuse them of aiding and abetting the pro-Littles movement. It had apparently been growing for some time, and while I never thought that Nancy was political per say, her desires for Emma’s future had put her squarely on one side of the argument now. After two solid weeks of the staff insisting that they weren’t the problems, Nancy began to get paranoid and started performing sweeps of the daycare for possible bugs or other devices that could be interfering in her Little’s regression. Not wanting to lose a customer like her or those who may follow her to another one of the numerous daycare facilities in town, the staff at the daycare gave her some freedom, but everyone could see the staff’s quickly diminishing patience… especially today. “I will find out what’s going on here!” Nancy spit determinedly as she passed her monitoring device to look for hidden anti-regression bugs and the like. From what I could learn here and there since she had started her sweeps, pro-Little’s movements used them to ensure that whenever they had a meeting, no one would be regressed, accidentally or not. They were expensive, rare, and above all, illegal now, but many private collectors had been accumulating them since they were first created about a decade ago now. For anyone a part of the Big control movement, they were tantamount to their own private boogeyman foiling their every turn to just regress a Little to have as their own. At first, it was actually a little hilarious to see the mighty Big and villain against my Little act so frantic around the daycare each morning. As time progressed though, her desperation shown through and started to wear thin on the staff… none more so than Miss Tully. “Ma’am?” Miss Tully tried to get Nancy’s attention. That morning, Littles were already filing in for the day, and with her temper and near foaming at the mouth scene, many were starting to get frightened. I suspected half of them could be candidates for some serious therapy for PTSD by now, but a threat was still a threat. “Ma’am? I’m going to have to ask that you leave now,” Miss Tully doubled down against Nancy. This morning, it turned out to be the wrong day to confront her. “Back off, slim!” Nancy insulted her. Emma and I could only watch from our spot with her friends in terror. “I’m warning you! Another step, and I’ll have this place condemned. I know people on the city council!” Thankfully, Mrs. Gillies was just walking into the room right then. “Nancy…” she said with a calmer tone than I think anyone else could have mustered at that point. “Nancy… the Littles. Please… I’ll let you come in again tomorrow, but right now, we need to attend to everyone else here, and you can’t be here while we do that… you’re scaring them.” Nancy paused her scanning of every corner and fake tree branch overhead and looked down at the terrified expressions of the Littles sitting on the ground. Miss Mindy and even Miss Dee-Dee had come in to help keep everyone calm, but I could see that Nancy realized the situation she was putting herself in. She could always argue that she was just looking after her Little, and that went far with most law enforcement lately, but she could also just as easily have been seen as endangering other Littles. There was only a handful of ways that would end, and Nancy likely knew that Emma would be pulled away from her with each of those outcomes. “Fine… I’ll be back though… I don’t trust any of you lot anymore.” Mrs. Gillies only nodded and led the Big away. Nancy never did find any device like the ones she was looking for over the next week, but she was still determined to find the root of Emma’s resistance to be regressed again. So far though, she had been unsuccessful. For every toy in here helping me in their own ways, be it switching or diluting FOY vials in the air or in the food, or lowering power to the built-in hypnotic machines, it was seen as a massive win. That being said, it wasn’t long before my worst fears with Nancy losing were confirmed. Nancy was sitting with Lilly and Anna once more and each was just talking to each other and cuddling their respective stuffy’s. Emma had referred to me as that the other day and I was positively electrified for the rest of the day. I was still basically riding that high even now, but all that was about to change. “Yeah, my mommy switched to dese cheaper diapers the otter day,” Anna complained. “I’ve ruined two dresses now. Iss no fair!” “Ouch,” Lilly said, with a pained expression. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Anna.” For her part, Emma just sat and nodded but she hadn’t leaked herself in weeks now. Nancy was turning out to be quite the nasty Big, but she at least made sure that Emma was always well-padded, though admittedly to the detriment of her stride lately. “I can’t believe these Bigs sometimes,” Lilly complained, stroking Cassie’s hair in her lap. “My mommy wants me to give up my ballet practice in favor of another playdate with one of her cousin’s Littles. It’s just not fair!” Emma and Anna both comforted their friend. It was a nice moment between the three, but then Anna and Lilly turned to Emma to get her to share her own issues. Emma had to think for a second and even seemed nervous, but finally, she relented. “Nancy’s been punishin’ me hawd watewy…” Emma mumbled. My happy feeling evaporated. “What?” Lilly and Anna asked in unison. “Were you bad? Did you throw your food? Did you say no to something? Did you throw a tantrum?” Emma was bombarded with a myriad of rapid-fire questions from her friends, and she just shook her head to each. My inner anger began to grow. “No to any of dose! I wassa good girl! She jus’ got weally angwy at me fo’ no weason! My tushie huwts weal bad now!” My anger grew to intolerable levels at that moment, and even though Emma’s friends were there to quickly comfort her, each of us knew there was nothing that could be done in this society currently. Bigs punishing a Little, even for no reason unfortunately, was just considered standard practice. In fact, if Emma did bring her complaints up to someone higher, she would even run the risk of being punished for making a false accusation and maybe even be punished by Nancy later that night for the needless trouble she had caused. To most Littles, taking the punishment and hoping it would end was usually just seen as the best way to go forward. Eventually, the Big would get tired from it or the Little would learn their lesson, knowingly or not. For me though, this was different. Emma had been punished for seemingly no reason before, but it turned out she had accidentally backtalked to Nancy one day. Now though, I knew I was the culprit of her ‘unknown’ reason for punishment. Nancy was growing frustrated with Emma’s lack of regression and was now taking it out on her. It wasn’t the first time I had heard about something like this happening, as most Bigs thought that correctional punishments like that would mold any Little to do anything they wanted, but it was something else entirely to witness firsthand. To be blunt, I almost broke right then and gave into Nancy’s desires. Before I did though, I knew I had to ask some advice first, so I brought it up at the forgotten toys meeting later that night. “Uh, I just want to thank you all for how you’ve helped. Pinto, that frayed cable behind the TV that led to the hypnosis circuit was brilliant! I don’t think I saw a single spot of drool today when they turned on Jasper and Jinx!” The group quickly clapped. It was a happy moment in celebrating our success, but I knew I had to get real now. “Unfortunately, I think we might need to stop…” The group immediately stopped clapping, and some even gasped. “Why would you say that, Dash?” Doc Duck asked in concern. “It’s because he sees that Nancy is taking out her frustrations on Emma now…” Poodee spoke up from the group. Ever since she had spoken to me and Pete, she was slowly making her way out of her shell. Still, it kind of shocked everyone each time she spoke up now during our nightly meetings. Doc Duck quickly looked shocked still like most in the group, but then turned to me. “Is that true, Dash?” I nodded. “Well, that certainly changes things…” They turned back to the group. “What do we think everyone? Is this something Dash, and by extension, we, continue for Emma?” There was a lot of murmuring afterward and I could already hear that there was a bit of a mixed response. Unlike Poodee, some of the other toys here I knew believed that Littles being regressed was fine in small doses and if it also placated their Big, so much the better. After what had happened with Tyler, I couldn’t blame them. In the on-going saga of Tyler’s downfall and regression, we had all watched in horror as his caregiver announced to the staff one day that he had become too much for her to handle anymore. It was exceedingly rare, but it was always a risk whenever there was an extreme change from what a Big wanted to what they actually got. After all, with the hundreds, if not thousands, of portal Littles coming in now, Little scarcity that had once been so prominent, was now letting up. In certain countries, Bigs could be far more selective, which means that a very babyish Tyler was a problem for some Bigs that could easily be traded away. As a result, he was now up for adoption, and while he could find a good family like Zack did, the odds were not in his favor. Fiona had been adopted too, but apparently it was by some technology company that I couldn’t quite remember right then. ‘Was it Emerald? Ruby? Saphire?’ Something along those lines, but regardless, she was gone and likely being experimented endlessly on. For some toys, Nancy’s desires, though sinister, were more favorable than that type of fate, and honestly, I couldn’t exactly disagree… Still though, there was a chance, which is why I was now in this dilemma in the first place. Before I could say anything else to the group, Rina then stepped forward a little. “I, uh, think Dash should continue with what he’s doing. We’ve all seen Emma, and it’s scary to think that she could be given up by Nancy, but I also think almost any other life would be better for her.” There were several nods and she then melted back into the crowd. “Thank you, Rina,” Doc Duck acknowledged to the ballerina. For once, she seemed to think about others rather than herself. “Anyone else care to voice their opinion?” Pinto then cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I know I haven’t always been supportive of Dash, but Nancy isn’t right for Emma. We all can see that by now. Emma’s regression probably won’t even make her truly happy, so I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Besides, Emma is a cute toddler-level Little and would likely have better prospects than both Zack and Fiona ever did. Tyler, too…” There was a lot more murmuring, and while I could tell that many of the toys were nervous or even skeptical over our ability to give Emma a new and better life, it was hard to deny that a shot at that was better than nothing at all. I knew what I had to say, so then I stepped forward. “Thank you, Pinto… Rina… all of you. I had my doubts before tonight, but I think that we can still give her something better. We’re toys, and as you all have taught me, helping our Little out is our most important calling. I know that now, and I don’t think I can turn away and let her be permanently regressed. It’s going to get even harder I’m guessing, but I’m still in. I say, we stay the course and Emma stays as she is!” The forgotten toy group then all cheered for my renewed vigor in helping Emma. She was practically becoming a Little to every toy in here, and while I was her stuffy, I knew that more and more toys were gaining a vested interest in her current and future happiness. Seeing Nancy lately and her fury to ensure Emma would be regressed, I knew I would need all the help I could get. So, things continued like that for about another week. Nancy grew more desperate, and Emma grew wearier as her stories to her friends became even more concerning. Timeouts and the occasional single spanking evolved into losses of privileges, spankings in the double digits, and even mouth soaping’s if she used longer or more complex words in front of Nancy. I could tell she couldn’t take much more of it and despite my resolve to ensure she wouldn’t be regressed, as a result, I felt my world was starting to fall apart. Then, after daycare one day, I saw Nadia run up to me after I had spent most of the day outside with Emma. Being the leader here and trying to attend to the needs of everyone, it was a rare sight to see her this close and personal. Coupled with the bit of commotion I thought I had seen in the Meadows room before closing, it immediately made my legs weak from worry. “Dash! Dash! Hurry! It’s Pete! He’s hurt!” My eyes widened in shock and soon, both of us were hurdling down to the maintenance room. I could already hear the grinders, drills, and snips coming from inside as I knew Sam was feverishly trying to save my mentor. When we got there though, Sam just looked at us both and shook his head. “I’ve done all I can for him, but he’s going to need a new part, or...” Sam trailed off, but his implication was clear. My heart sank. Noticeably trying to keep her emotions in check as the stoic leader she was, Nadia spoke first. “Is there anything that we can do, Sam?” “Not unless you’ve got a back massager…” Pete said jokingly, but all of us grimaced as we could hear the exhaustion and pain in his voice. “What happened?” I asked after smiling down to my friend in comfort, grateful that he was at least not so bad that he was still making jokes. “I’ll let Pete tell you,” Sam replied first, “but if he doesn’t get what he needs… he won’t last more than two… three days tops.” With that, Sam then bounced off on his still creepy eight legs. He was a miracle worker most days, but Pete seemed beyond even his immeasurable skill. Pete then slowly rose and propped his back up against one of the tool benches. I could instantly see that his chest had slightly caved in one area and his left wing hung limp and was bent at an unnatural angle. “Guess I don’t have very long…” “Don’t say that!” I admonished my mentor, my emotions all bubbling out right at that moment. “You’ll come through this. I know you will.” I then turned to Nadia. Surely, the strong leader had to be more upbeat, or at least steadier. “Tell him, Nadia. Please.” Nadia sighed and I sadly could see even her composure begin to crack. “I… I just don’t know, Dash. Pete’s been here for years… decades even. There’s a reason why we put him in charge of you newbies. His experience helps you all out, but it also means that whatever is wrong, won’t be easy to fix.” She then turned to Pete. “Sam said you had something missing or whatnot?” Pete nodded. “Some type of actuator… valve… something like that or whatnot inside me… I can hold off from needing it, but my body is compensating and won’t last very long at this rate.” Pete sighed. “I get a new one… I’ll be fitter than I have been in years… but Mrs. Gillies called the repairman. He’s coming to get me tomorrow after closing. You know what that means…” Nadia and I remained in shock for a moment. The repairman for us toys was either seen as the savior of all us toys or the grim reaper incarnate. Most toys had a 50-50 shot of coming back after he had taken them away to his repair shop. Considering Pete’s age though, his odds were likely even worse. Nadia soon gave her condolences but tried to exude the same strength she typically showed around here in that he would be able to find a part available to fix himself up by the repairman. I could hear the hesitancy in her words, but she walked off and at least portrayed a sense of confidence in her movements. Sensing the impending failure of his broken body, I then came over to my mentor’s side. “Pete… if there was anything I could do…” “Forget it,” he said forcefully while also stopping me with his undamaged wing. “Focus on Emma. She can still be saved. By now, there’s nothing any of you can do for me.” I wanted to respect his wishes, but I didn’t want to just leave him to the mercy of a man that had consistently ‘retired’ our kind in the past. Seeing Pete now, I didn’t like his chances. I just had to do something for him. “Pete… please… I can…” “Just go,” he said a little sternly. “There’s nothing you can do tonight. Help Emma. She’s your priority. Figure out a new plan and go from there to stop Nancy or at least keep delaying her.” I was about to stay something more, but he just pointed with his wing to the door. “Go, Dash! Please…” Sensing that he just wanted to be alone tonight, I abided by his wishes. As I walked back to the Meadows room, my new home for the night since Emma was now staying in here during the day, I kept thinking about how to save Pete. I was still a super toy in many senses of the word, but at the same time, I felt entirely clueless. The next day came and went, and right as the last Little left, the repairman stopped by on his way over from some job he had just completed. Having returned to the Meadows room, where Vivian now was and Pete had been damaged initially, the repairman picked up the old bird and the rest of us toys watched in frozen horror. Hope seemed to be in short supply. “Hmmm… model 80… this line is up to 900 now, so it might be difficult to find the part I’m looking for.” The rotund man then scratched his balding head while Mrs. Gillies waited for his decision about Pete with earnest. “See, newer models have it with their… uh, pulses or whatnot, but these models… I’ll see if I have a spare tomorrow morning at my bench, but no promises.” “I see…” I could see the look of disappointment come over Mrs. Gillie’s face. We all knew that Pete was basically here when this place opened, and I could just imagine that Mrs. Gillies and he went way back. “Do what you can for him. I can pick him up during my lunch shift either way…” “Very well, ma’am… you have yourself… a…” the repairman then paused and to my shock and slight horror, he spotted me lying on the ground where I had resituated myself after seeing another day of Nancy being upset with the staff as she picked up Emma. “Well, I’ll be…” The man then reached down and picked up my body and inspected me closely. “Oh, yeah… Patch… Dash series I think,” Mrs. Gillies mused. “Got mauled by a dog next door and old man Paul fixed him up for us.” “Did he now?” the repairman asked, while still probing around my body. “Looks like a bit of rough job, but seems to work fine, but… hold on…” In seconds, I could feel him pop open my underbelly resealable seems and look inside me. “You know… this toy is missing half it’s functions… I can’t get to him tonight or tomorrow morning, but if you want, just bring him with you tomorrow. I could basically restore him to looking brand new, electronics and all even.” Mrs. Gillies was clearly taken aback by the statement and looked at me with wonder, but also maybe a sense of sadness in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what that was, but she only smiled back and nodded to the repairman. “Thank you. I’ll definitely consider it…” With that, the two then nodded at each other, I was set down, and both left, Pete firmly wrapped up in a box under the repairman’s arm. “Holy crikey!” Carmen shouted to me from nearby. “You okay, Dash?” I felt myself up, but seeing he actually didn’t take anything away from me, I felt okay. “Yeah… I guess, but Pete…” We all looked sadly at the door the two Bigs had just walked out of. Even though Mrs. Gillies seemed determined to bring Pete back here, for one reason or another, we all knew that Pete’s days here very well could have been numbered. Right then though, a small flicker of hope remained in my head. Running away and still being sure to stay out of sight of the rest of the packing up staff and the exiting repairman, I made my way into the small library that Sam had kept in the maintenance room. “May I help you, Dash? Or is it Patch?” he asked, dangling down from the workbench. “Just call me Dash…” I breathed out heavily. “Might change it… not sure, but I need to see the manual on series 80 versus my series. Now!” “Okay, okay.” Sam then disappeared for a moment and retrieved the two manuals. “No need to be so pushy, and you know, a thank you wouldn’t kill you…” “Thank you,” I said hurriedly as I flipped through the two manuals. I always wondered by Honshu and Agnustralete were first in these things, but I finally found the right language. “Here!” I then raced off with both manuals in my hands. “You’re welcome, but just bring them back!” Sam shouted back, but I was too distracted by my new mission. In less than five minutes once everyone else on the staff was practically gone, I gathered everyone around into the Canopy room and stood on one of the chairs before all the toys who had gathered. “Everyone! Quiet please!” I tried to yell, but everyone just kept murmuring and bustling about. “Silence!” Victor shouted out. His voice carried a little more than mine and he nodded in my direction to speak and in acknowledgement of my leading status right then. “Thank you, Victor.” I then turned back to the crowd. “So, as you all know, Pete was taken this afternoon by the repairman.” Several began murmuring again. “I know many of you know what that means, but I heard it firsthand tonight. I’m afraid that it’s more than likely that Pete will not be saved!” Several gasps went up within the crowd. “However, I have a plan!” “You have a plan to save Pete, Dash?” Nadia asked from nearby, seeming a little hopeful while also a little skeptical as well. I nodded. “I do. See, I got these two manuals tonight when the repairman noted what Pete needed. I didn’t know before then, but I do now!” Many gathered closer as I showed the two manuals off. “See, as most of you know, I gave up my pulse ability in order to be accepted into this daycare and to find a Little. I did in Emma, and I owe all I have now to Pete. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. So, looking at the manuals, I can give him one of my parts in order for him to fixed.” The murmurs increased tenfold, and to be honest, never in my whole existence did I see so much resistance over my plan to further mutilate myself. Taking one or two parts was nearly unheard of, but voluntarily giving up one of my own? It just wasn’t heard of. I almost found it humorous that this crowd of toys that once rejected me so completely, were now trying to convince me to do almost anything else. “But if you give up your part, then how does Pete get it?” Cassie asked, clearly hoping I had an answer. I sighed. “Well, I would have to go to the repair shop.” There were a lot of gasps, and I think I could even hear a few fits of laughter from the more skeptical. I just ignored them. “I’m serious now! Pete deserves my help at the very least. The address is in their records here and I can use their computer to map out my course.” “So why do you need us?” Maddy asked from the far back. “Well,” I began, knowing full-well that my plan was about to either take off or massively fail right now, “I was hoping that at least one of you would come with me…” Just as I had feared, there was nothing but silence for a solid minute. Leaving the safety of the daycare as a toy, especially this lot, was tantamount to near suicide. Beyond the roadways, there were animals, and just the rest of this society who would snatch us up in a heartbeat. It would be a major risk, and everyone knew it. “I volunteer!” I looked in the far back to where the voice had come from. If it wasn’t so silent right then, I’m not sure if I would have been able to hear her silent voice. “Poodee! You can’t!” Nadia tried to protest. “No! I can do this! For Dash… for Emma,” she said passionately. “She deserves a better life than the one she’s got and that comes down to Dash. I don’t think we can change his mind on this, and two toys are better than one.” “Three!” Carmen bellowed, stepping out as well. “Four,” Tops said, hopping a bit to get out of the corner he was hanging in. “You’ll never make it,” Maddy shouted, still ever the skeptic. “I mean… look at you all! You’re one fall away from flying apart in the next strong breeze.” Nadia quickly growled over at her. “Silence! If any others are willing to go, let them step forth now, but otherwise, remain silent.” No one dared question our plan afterward. The four of us then began to prepare for our journey. We would use the setting sun to our advantage and go when it was dark out. It could present more dangers, but we had a better chance of going unseen and just being safer in general when there were less cars and beings out in general. Sam then quickly popped my part out and even gave me a little side bag that was originally for some toy horse set that he then strapped around my back to carry it in for Pete. “Good luck, Dash! Save the old bird for us, will you?” I nodded and strutted out. Getting ready to head to the front entrance, I saw a group of toys I never really ever wanted to see as a group again. To the detriment of my nerves, Sarge and Victor stepped forward from the rest of the toy council and looked at me with the most serious face I think I had ever seen in my existence. “Here,” Victor began first, his face relaxing a bit while also handing me a rope. “Just in case. Try not to jump off anything and use this instead. Also, I’ve heard lassos are pretty great at hooking things and using the leverage to pull down on various objects out there.” “Thank you, Victor,” I said, taking the rope from him. I then looked over to Sarge. He seemed to just gruff and bumble a little bit, but finally, he spoke. “You going after Pete and all… shows me a lot of character I didn’t know you had… uh, still don’t like you too much, but I don’t want you getting lost out there, so… here!” Without about as much affection as a cactus, Sarge thrust two items out to me. The first was a small flashlight and the second was a map to the repair shop. I wasn’t really sure what to say, but I looked up and tried not to make a scene or anything. They were all once my enemies, but now, each of them was wishing me a safe return. It was all very peculiar, but given the journey I was about to take, I just accepted all the help I could get. “Thank you, Sarge. Thank you all.” “Good luck,” Cassie said sweetly, giving me a quick peck on my patched cheek. “Say hey to the old bird for us,” Nadia added. “Safe travels and be sure to be back by dawn.” I nodded and departed the council to meet with my other friends who were already waiting by the front door of the daycare, still vigilant to watch out for Miss Tully keeping check on the Littles still in the Burrows room. “You all ready?” I asked after handing Tops the flashlight and Poodee the map. Carmen nodded. “As ready as we’re ever going to be. Lead the way, Dash… We trust you.” I nodded and looked out into the big scary world beyond the front door of the daycare. While I had been outside, it was always within the safety of the back fence. Now, I would be stepping beyond the property for the first time since I had been mauled by Buster. It seemed like so long ago, and though I was filled with more fear than I could have ever guessed, I knew Pete needed our help. So, I took a breath and pushed open the doors.

Matilda ground her teeth together. She was trying to be nice, but as she looked up from her own schoolwork for the fifth time to catch Hortensia doodling in her notebook instead of reading her assignment, she was losing her patience. Fast. “Mom isn’t going to let us stay home if you don’t do any of your work.” Matilda said. She liked going to school. She did. But this…was so much better. Hortensia let out a deep sigh and dropped her pencil before letting out an exaggerated moan. “How can you just sit there and do school work all day? It’s so boring!” Hortensia complained. She looked at the clock. Had it really already been three hours? “I guess we could take a break.” Matilda said. Hortensia threw down her pen and let out a cheer before launching herself up from the kitchen table. “My arse is killing me.” Matilda’s face fell. “God, not like that. Quit it. I hate when people look at me like that.” Hortensia groaned. “Like what?” “Like I’m going to break. No one talks to me normally anymore. I’m starting to actually want to go back to school and get treated like shite.” “Why?” Matilda asked with a sour face. “I spent all that time wishing to go to school only to realize I had it better just doing my own thing.” “I just want things to go back to the way they were.” Matilda realized it wasn’t school she missed, but her old life. But going back to school wasn’t going to get her mom out of prison, or change what had been done to her. “I told you to stop looking at me like that.” She growled. Matilda averted her eyes. “I can make a better lunch than the school can.” Hortensia perked up at the mention of food. It was only 10: 30, so brunch then. Even better, because school didn’t serve brunch. “I can make a quiche.” “What the bloody hell is a quiche?” “You mix a couple ingredients, like eggs and stuff and then you ba-” Matilda’s face fell. She wasn’t supposed to use the oven unsupervised. “Never mind.” she said glumly. “Sandwiches it is.” “Sandwiches? What happened to ‘I can make a better lunch than the school?’” “I’m not supposed to use the oven by myself.” Matilda said with a scowl. “You’re not by yourself.” Hortensia said with a shrug. Matilda shifted in indecision. “Quiche.” Hortensia cheered, fist high in the air. “You don’t even know what a quiche is.” “But now I want it.” Matilda groaned. She had opened up a can of worms she couldn’t get herself out of. Maybe Hortensia had a point. She went to get a bowl, but stopped. It felt too wrong. Matilda bit her lip. She didn’t like being bad unless she had to. “What? What is it?” “I don’t want to get in trouble.” Matilda mumbled. She had been fighting with Jenny on and off most of the summer, but things were finally good. She liked not being in the spotlight. No one was bothering her here. No one was interrupting her to ask what she was reading or marvel at her. Hortensia rolled her eyes. “You’re. Not. Alone.” Hortensia repeated. Matilda sighed. She’d feel better if she called and asked just in case. “Seriously?” Hortensia asked as she reached for the phone. “Where’s the fun in that?” “Fun?” Matilda scrunched up her face in confusion. “Getting in trouble isn’t fun for me.” “Not the getting in trouble part; it’s about the thrill of getting in trouble if you get caught.” “That just gives me heart palpitations.” She shook her head as Hortensia began to ask what that was as she dialed the number for the school. She had never needed the phone book. She only needed to see the number once in order to memorize it. “I’m entering it into our database now.” Jenny would say as she held up a piece of paper with a name and phone number for Matilda to see. A voice answered on the third ring, not her mom, but someone from the office. Naomi Stevens, 43, worked in the school office for thirteen years, and had the loudest speaking voice Matilda had ever heard. “Hello, Mrs. Steven’s, could I please speak to my mom?” She forced a smile out of habit which earned her an odd look. “Oh, Matilda! Hi, sweetheart! I heard you’re not feeling well! I hope someone’s there taking good care of you.” Watching out for her? She stared at the girl whose finger was currently knuckle deep into her left nostril. “Something like that.” Matilda said. “And I’m feeling fine, but thank you for your concern.” “Oh, always so polite.” Naomi squealed so loudly Hortensia could hear. She rolled her eyes. Hortensia didn’t like anyone from the office. She said they treated her poorly, but that was probably only because she was rude to them first. “Oh, is your mom’s boyfriend there?” Matilda scowled. “Uh, no, Hortensia. And I’m watching her.” “Hey!” Hortensia complained. Matilda grinned at her. “Hortensia? You don’t mean… Hortensia Smith?” Naomi said, sounding on guard. Matilda held a fist to her lips to keep from laughing. “No, I mean Hortensia Biedrzycki.” No one ever attempted to say her legal last name. “Yes, her.” Naomi said before tutting. “What’s she doing at your house?” “Umm, she lives here.” “She lives there?” “Yeah, she’s kind of my foster sister now, or something. Mom’s her guardian.” “Oh, is she now?” Matilda winced. She didn’t realize the office didn’t already know. She could hear the piqued interest in her voice. Matilda could picture Naomi waving the other women over and pointing at the phone in her hand as they eagerly hung on her every word. Only Naomi burst out laughing. Matilda stared at the phone in confusion before putting it back to her ear. “You're so well behaved you’ve lured your mum into thinking raising kids is easy, and now she thinks she can handle Mnt. Everest.” Matilda snickered. “So that’s why you haven’t been here? Is she sick?” “It’s complicated.” Matilda said. She didn’t fully understand what was going on, and Jenny had forbidden her from asking Hortensia any questions even though she was dying to probe. After a few more moments of polite back and forth, Naomi finally transferred her call. “Matilda, is everything okay?” Her mom sounded worried. “Mom! I’m really sorry bu-” “What? What is it? Is Hortensia okay?” “What?” She looked at Hortensia who stared back at her looking puzzled. “She’s fine, but I think I accidentally told Naomi she’s living with us before you did.” “Oh.” Her mom let out a relieved breath and a shaky laugh. “That’s okay, it’s not like it’s a big secret. What’s up?” “Well, since Hortensia’s here, and I’m not alone, I wanted to know if I could cook something?” There was a pause. “What were you going to make?” “A quiche.” Another pause followed by a drawn out sigh. Matilda grimaced. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. “That sounds so much better than my leftovers.” “I could bring you some.” Matilda offered. A little bribery wouldn’t hurt. “No, you don’t have to do that.” A pause. “Would you?Do you think she’s okay to leave the house? Put her on the phone.” Matilda handed her the phone and gave her a thumbs up before getting to work. “I’m fine.” Hortensia said. Matilda peeked over her shoulder occasionally as she mixed the ingredients. She had gone quiet for a minute, only breaking up the silence with the occasional “okay” or “fine.” Eventually, she handed the phone back. “Make sure you hold her hand when crossing the street.” Jenny said. Matilda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay.” “I mean it. It’s for both your girls' safety. If she spaces out, you’ll need to guide her by the hand.” Matilda’s eyes briefly flicked over to her. She had seen Hortensia do that a couple of times since she had moved back in. She’d stop whatever it was she was doing and go rigid. It was…odd. She had never seen her do that before. She wouldn’t respond to anyone. Jenny usually took her upstairs for a bit until she snapped out of it. “What do I do if that happens?” “Call me.” “How do you usually snap her out of it? Does she come to on her own or…?” “Just…” Jenny said. “Call me if anything happens and I’ll try and come home.” “Okay.” Matilda said with a shrug. “And don’t forget to take a nap this afternoon.” Matilda clenched her jaw in annoyance. “But make sure the oven’s off before you do. Triple check please.” “Hortensia’s more likely to blow up the house.” Matilda grumbled. “We should give her cooking lessons.” Jenny said. “Oh, and maybe she could teach you how to draw.” “Oh no, I need both hands to make this quiche, I’m going to have to let you go.” Matilda said. “Ha. Ha. Okay, be safe. Call me if anything happens. I love you both.” “Love you too, bye.” Matilda hung up and shook her head. “She wants to teach you how to cook. You’ll blow the house up.” “I will not.” “Or poison us.” “I will not.” “Tsp and Tbsp aren’t the same thing!” “I know that much!” “They’ll find our corpses when they don’t hear from Jenny, half eaten cookies in all of our hands.” Hortensia pursed her lips together, but couldn’t keep back a chuckle at the image. “Is there even an ingredient I can mess up on that would cause that?” “Hmm, not unless you added something you weren’t supposed to, like arsenic, or cyanide, but that would be premeditated murder, not an accident.” “I meant like, if I misread and added too much of something? Could that kill us all?” “I think you’d have to purposely be trying to kill us. At worst, you’d make us all sick, with salmonella or something. There was a guy who got cockroach poison and saltpeter confused and killed a whole floor of patients in a mental hospital once during World War 2.” Hortensia made a face. “Then there’s Jim Jones, of course.” “Uhh, yes, of course….who’s that?” “You know, the cult leader from the 80’s who convinced over 800 people to drink poisoned Kool-Aid.” “Why do you know this?” Hortensia asked. “I read.” Hortensia narrowed her eyes. “And not from one of those boring documentaries on the History channel I keep catching you watching?” Matilda opened her mouth to retort, but shut it again. “Ha! See, you do like the telly.” “One channel,” Matilda mumbled. “Of course, you’d have to like the most boring channel on the network.” “History isn’t boring. You want boring; I’ll give you boring.” She hopped off the step stool and ran for the remote. Zinnia’s favorite. The Home Shopping Network. It would be on for hours! How anyone could sit and watch an hour straight about a purse… When she turned on the telly, it was a news report, the same one from this morning. She had been so busy with school work she hadn’t been paying attention, but now she stood and watched with rapt attention. No matter how many times Matilda had pestered Jenny, she had refused to tell her what exactly had happened. Something about a camp? She knew the gist of it, but as she listened to the news broadcast, the missing pieces fell into place. “I thought you were making food?” Hortensia asked, sticking her head out from the kitchen. “Is that what happened to you?” Matilda couldn’t stop herself from asking. Hortensia averted her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know.” she mumbled. “How do you not know?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” Hortensia said. “Food!” “Let me finish wa-” Matilda stopped. The telly flicked itself off. “Food.” Hortensia repeated. Matilda looked for the remote, but it was still beside her. Had she sat on it? Or had the telly burnt out? She shrugged it off and stood before making her way over to the Scrabble board on the coffee table to play a quick word. The only person who could beat her was herself. The air was tense between them when Matilda got back to work on cooking. Every attempt at conversations was met with one word answers. Hortensia seemed to be lost in thought, but at least she hadn’t gone catatonic. “Are you okay?” Matilda asked as they sat across from each other at the table each with a piece of quiche. She had done it now. She had brought up the topic she had been forbidden from asking and now Matilda was desperate to make amends. “I’m fine.” Hortensia growled at her. “Quit it.” Her brain searched for something. Anything. “What do you think of Brian?” she blurted out. Hortensia shrugged. Matilda noticed she wasn’t eating. “And you’re okay with walking to the school?” Hortensia shrugged again. “Rescue me from them!” “From who?” “The office ladies!” At this, Hortensia’s eyes finally seemed to focus on her. “Pft, I don’t see them being bitchy to you.” “It’s worse than that!” “I don’t believe you.” ….. “Oh, Matilda! How sweet! You’re such a good girl coming over and bringing your mommy lunch!” Naomi squealed. Matilda’s eyes drifted to Hortensia and gave her a look that said, ‘see?’. “Uh, yeah, I’m going to go see my mom now. Have a nice day, Mrs. Stephens” Matilda said. “She’s so cute!” They both could hear as they headed towards the back of the office. “Where do you think you're going without permission?” Another voice boomed. The girls stopped in their tracks at a new voice behind them. Mrs. Henderson, the third year teacher. “To Miss Honey’s office.” Matilda said. The woman waved her away. “No, I know you are sweetheart, I mean you.” She gestured at Hortensia, “Why aren’t you in class? Let me see your hall pass!” the woman demanded. “I don’t have one. I haven’t-” “Detention!” Mrs. Henderson roared. “But I’m not-” “Do you want to make it two?” “I haven’t even-” “Another word out of your mouth and it will be three!” Hortensia’s shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Mrs. Henderson let out a “hmph” before pushing past. Matilda burst into giggles. “You’ve been here for less than a minute and you already have detention.” Hortensia grumbled something unintelligible under her breath. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell Jenny what happened.” Hortensia looked like she had eaten something sour. They could hear whispering all around them. “She looks terrible.” Matilda craned her neck around. Mrs. Stephens and Mrs. Alto were huddled together staring at the two of them. “What do you think she’s sick with? Do you think she’s contagious? Did she say what was wrong with her?” “I was hoping she got expelled.” “Sush, I think she can hear you.” “You’re one to talk, loud mouth.” Matilda stopped walking and stared at them. They weren’t even trying to keep their voices down. She felt something heavy crash into the back of her. Hortensia hadn’t noticed she had stopped walking and collided with her, sending her crashing to the ground. Her eyes began to water from the shock of it. That was when the shouting started. “MISS HONEY’S OFFICE! NOW!” It was Mrs. Phelps this time, Hortensia’s teacher. She’d at least have noticed Hortensia’s absence, but the old woman had grabbed Hortensia by the back of her shirt and began pushing her forward like a prisoner. Matilda pushed herself up and staggered after them. What could she possibly be in trouble for now? At least Hortensia had been the one carrying the quiche, although Matilda could have done without getting smacked in the back of the head by the tray. When they turned the corner, she could see her mom coming out of her office. “Jennifer!” Mrs. Phelps said, a stern angry note in her voice that made Matilda cower despite not even being the one in trouble. “I just saw this one push your kid to the ground. You going to do something about her now?” Miss Honey’s eyes shifted from Hortensia to Matilda. “It was an acc-” Matilda tried to say, but the accusation had set Hortensia off. “I did not shove her, you blind old bat!” Matilda inwardly sighed. She always made things worse for herself. “Tens, stop.” Miss Honey said. She raised and lowered her palms in a settle down gesture, but this only seemed to infuriate her more. “What are you telling me to stop for? She’s accusing me of things I didn’t do! Again!” Hortensia had often said the school had it out for her, usually resulting in Matilda rolling her eyes. But now that she had seen how everyone treated her she was starting to wonder. “It was an accident. I stopped in front of her.” Matilda said. Mrs. Phelps turned to glare at her. “Do not interrupt me, young lady! I won’t hesitate to put you in detention with her. Children should not correct adults.” The shock of the threat was enough to reduce Matilda to tears. She had never been in trouble at school before. “Girls, go wait for me in my office.” Miss Honey said. So they waited. And waited. And waited. “Should have just made sandwiches.” Matilda mumbled. “Not like you ate any of it anyway.” At this, Hortensia peeled back the seal on the dish and cut herself out a small piece. “Happy?” Hortensia said through a mouth full. “Why don’t you eat anymore?” Matilda asked. She had witnessed her mom practically force feeding her since she had come back. They had gone from joking about enrolling her in a hot dog eating contest just to feed her lunch to not being allowed up from the table until she ate at least half a serving. “I’m not hungry.” Hortensia said. She was staring at the sliver in her hand. “Do I have to eat this?” “Do you not like it?” “I do. I just don’t enjoy food anymore.” Matilda frowned in thought. “Why? Is it the taste?” Hortensia shook her head. “The texture?” She shook her head again. “Do you think you’re fat? Are you anorexic? Is that why you’ve lost so much weight?” “What, no? I haven’t lost weight.” “You look like a zombie. Maybe you’re turning into a zombie. People food isn’t doing it for you anymore because you crave braaaiiinnnssss.” She stuck her arms out in front of her and mimed walking like the living dead. A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Hortensia’s lips. “Maybe I should start with yours since it’s so big.” “No, no. Mine hasn’t fully formed yet, it isn’t ripe. You need a mature brain, like Mrs. Phelps.” Hortensia’s face soured. “Eww, that’s too old. It’s probably gone bad. What do you want to bet her brain looks like a shriveled nut sack?” “Eww.” Matilda said, before pausing in thought. “Is everyone always this mean to you?” She asked, changing the subject. Hortensia shrugged. “How do you deal with it?” Matilda was still shaken up. She had thought things would be better with the Trunchbull gone, that perhaps they were only cruel under her orders, but now she could see that was only wishful thinking. Nothing had changed. Mrs. Stephens and the other ladies in the office had seen what had happened and yet, none had come forward in Hortensia’s defense. Not with Mrs. Henderson and not with Mrs. Phelps. Matilda had tried to stick up for her, but it had only made things worse. Would Jenny make the situation right? Could she? Even if she was the boss, she often took a backseat to arguments, couldn’t handle confrontation. She hadn’t said anything to Mrs. Phelps when she had lashed out at her, had merely told them to wait in her office, and that had been, what? 20 minutes ago? What if Matilda had been in the wrong? What if she came back fuming at her for making Jenny look bad? “I’ve never been in trouble with the teachers before.” Matilda mumbled. With Jenny, sure. Matilda was self aware enough even at her age to know she could be…how did Jenny put it…stubbornly willful. Hortensia often called her a fucking know it all. Matilda liked to make up words that sounded like insults to hurl at her when they were fighting and giggle when she couldn’t find them in the dictionary. Once she had even made up a country when Hortensia demanded to know what language she was speaking. Matilda had even gone as far as to convince Brian’s kids to call her an “ovalarskin” and then look at her like she was dumb when she asked what that was. But damn it, she was her “ovalarskin” and she was feeling angry to see her so mistreated by all the adults around her. “That’s because they think you’re a little angel.” Hortensia said sarcastically. “With your ‘yes ma'ams’, and ‘please’.” “You get farther with them if you’re polite.” Matilda said. “But I think nice Matilda needs a break now.” Hortensia’s eyebrows went up. “Have you ever been in a hardware store before?” “Of course i’ve been in a hardware store. I don’t live under a rock.” “Did you know they sell li-” Matilda stopped talking as the door opened and Miss Honey entered looking exhausted and stressed. Without saying a word to either of them she unwrapped the quiche, cut herself out a large slice and collapsed into her chair. “I needed this.” She groaned through a mouthful. No one said anything as Miss Honey scarfed down nearly half the pan single handedly. Finally, she swiped at the crumbs coating her desk and brushed them into her hand. Matilda was starting to think she was going to eat those too, but she dumped them into the trashcan by her desk. She stared at the two of them and sighed. “What happened out there?” “That bi-” Hortensia started to say before Matilda cut in. “Maybe I should say, before you get yourself in trouble.” Hortensia let out an annoyed breath before waving her hand and motioning for her to talk. “They’ve been going after her since the moment we got here.” Matilda said. “Mrs. Henderson gave her a detention when Hortensia didn’t have a hall pass, and then another when she tried to explain why she didn’t have one. She didn’t let her say anything! Then the office kept gossiping about her like she wasn’t even there. I was so surprised when one of them said ‘I had hoped she had gotten expelled’ I stopped walking and Hortensia must have bumped into me. That’s when Mrs. Phelps started yelling at her about pushing me. Am I really going to have a detention? I didn’t mean to talk back, it’s just, no one was defending her at all and it made me mad!” “No, no one’s getting detention.” Miss Honey said before sighing. “I did have a long talk with the women in the office. Mrs. Stephens admitted it was only an accident.” “Then why didn’t she say that to begin with?” Hortensia said, throwing her hands in the air. “She saw the whole thing with Mrs. Henderson too!” “Matilda, how’s your head? I heard you got smacked pretty good.” “Hurts.” Matilda whimpered, rubbing the back of her head. In truth, Mrs. Phelps had caused her more grief than the dish to the back of the scalp, but she wasn’t about to admit that in front of Hortensia. Miss Honey gave her a sympathetic smile. “How about you go see Mrs. Rogers and get some ice. Oh, and bring this. See if she wants any.” She said before adding under her breath, “Before I eat it all.” Matilda giggled despite knowing she was being kicked out. She hadn’t seen her mom eat so much since she had gotten high. She obediently slipped out of the chair, grabbed the dish, and left the office. … “Now,” Miss Honey said once they were alone. She stared at Hortensia. “In your own words, tell me what happened.” “Bi-” “Without swearing.” “You said ‘in my own words’.” she grumbled before sighing. “No one wants me here. Do I have to come back?” “I think it’s still too soon.” Miss Honey said. “You’re still not eating and you still…” Miss Honey frowned in thought. “You’re not ready.” “I still what?” Hortensia asked. “You’re not yourself yet. I might have you do lessons here with Matilda for a bit, before I send you back to class. You’ve got some catching up to do. But when you are ready to come back, there will be some changes. In fact, starting now there will be changes.” Her tone had gone sharp. Hortensia sank down in her seat like a child being scolded. “I called a staff meeting while you girls were waiting. I made it very clear to them they will not be treating you like a criminal any longer. This is a school; not a prison. You are a child; not an inmate. Whatever happened between you and any member of this staff is in the past and they are to treat you like a new student with a clean slate.” “Like that’ll happen.” Horrtensia said sarcastically. “That goes for you as well, Tens. I want this to be an opportunity for you to start over. I know you’re a good kid. You are intelligent, brave, and a good big sister.” “I’m not smart.” Hortensia mumbled looking away. “You have picked up math faster than I thought possible this summer.” “A six-year-old can do it.” Hortensia said morosely. “You can’t compare yourself to Matilda, she’s in a completely different league than anyone I have or probably will ever meet. She operates on a different wavelength than the rest of us. We’re all tuned into AM/FM stations and she's broadcasting out to space. I’m not here to talk about Matilda though, I want to talk about you.” Hortensia shrugged. “I guess.” she mumbled. “Tens,” Miss Honey said, “Please look at me.” Hortensia slowly lifted her head and locked eyes with her. “I can neither make you let go of all the anger inside of you, nor can I ask you to. I can only warn you of what harboring hate for years will turn you into it. You’ve seen it in my aunt. I can not take away the pain or damage, although I desperately wish I could. I wish I could turn back the clock. I wish I could stop everything from happening to you, but I can’t. I’m only human. What I can offer you is love and a place in my mismatched, pieced together family. You’ll always be welcome, but you have a choice to make. It wasn’t fair what happened to you. It wasn’t fair what happened to you and it wasn’t fair what happened to me. You can silently hold on to this hate and let it make you bitter and cruel. Or you can take all this pain no one should have had to experience and channel it.” Jennifer reached into her desk drawer and pulled something out. Hortensia looked away as her shoulders slumped. “You want me to stop fighting with the teachers. I get it.” She grumbled. “No.” Jennifer said. Hortensia looked up at her confused. “I want you to fight them. I want you to be the biggest pain in their arse you can be.” Hortensia stared at her flabbergasted as Jennifer held out her palm to reveal a small golden letter “P” pin. “You’re crazy.” Hortensia said, looking from the pin to her. Jennifer laughed. “Who I want you to stop fighting with is the other students. Not everyone here has the courage to speak up for themselves. You know better than anyone how infuriating being treated unfairly can be. Now this doesn’t mean you get to unleash an army of ladybugs in a classroom because someone got their recess taken away for being late.” “I only did that one time.” Hortensia said. “And Mrs. Henderson is still finding dead ladybugs in her classroom three years later.” Jennifer said, causing Hortensia to snicker. “Where did you even get that many lady bugs from?” “You can buy them in a bag at the hardware store.” Jennifer shook her head. She remembered that day. It was her first year teaching and the sound of Mrs. Henderson’s screams had abruptly put a stop to story time. Jennifer had been appalled to hear that kind of language coming from a teachers mouth, and aimed at a student no less. “First you let me break things with a bat, and now you want me to talk back to the teachers?” “Within reason.” Jennifer pointed out. “That does not mean you get to call anyone names. I’ll be having this talk with all the prefects.” Hortensia stared down at the pin in her hand, closely examining it as she twirled it back and forth between her fingers. “I’ll just get in more trouble.” Hortensia mumbled. “They’ll give me detention the moment I open my mouth.” “And if you do and I find it unjustified I’ll over ride it.” Jennifer said. “But if I find out you called anyone a ‘bitch’ or ‘hag’ you better believe you’ll be serving whatever punishment they dish out. You can disagree with someone and still be respectful about it. But if I find out your abusing your position, I’ll take that pin right back.” Hortensia stared at the pin before holding it back out to her. Jennifer shook her head. “Keep it and think it over. I trust you.” And she did. She had discovered something interesting over the summer about her. The more she was treated like a delinquent, the more she acted like one. And being on hall moniter duty would give her additional time on her feet and a chance to expel the extra pent up energy that made her so disruptive in the classroom. “Any questions?” Hortensia didn’t respond, only stared down at her hand which was now empty. Jennifer craned her neck around her desk to see the pin on the ground, but Hortensia made no move to pick it up, only sat perfectly still and stared. “Hortensia?” Nothing. “Tens? Are you alright?” Jennifer turned her head sideways and put her head on her desk to look into Hortensia’s eyes. Blank. She was having one of her fits, which meant…. A wet gurgling sound soon followed. “Ah.” They would have to get to the bottom of this before Jennifer felt comfortable sending her back to class. She stood and made her way before lightly touching the girls shoulder. “Tens, can you hear me?” Nothing. She gave her shoulder a light shake. She didn’t react in the slightest. Jennifer gently lifted her face by the chin and it stayed there when she let go, eyes staring straight ahead at her, but there was nothing in them. She had gone someplace else, someplace safe. That’s what her psychiatrist said anyway. She hoped whatever this was was temporary. Jennifer picked up Hortensia’s backpack, hoping she had packed what Jennifer had asked her to. Good. There was a spare nappy. She pulled it out and rummaged around some more pushing aside empty bags of chips. Jennifer stared at them curiously for a moment. They were all cut open, laid out and looked like they had been cleaned. Hortensia had been saving them for some reason. They hadn’t been there before the hospital, but they hadn’t come from home. Jennifer tried not to keep too much junk in the house as she had found her own clothing becoming a little more snug than she was comfortable with. She wondered briefly where she had gotten them from, but it was a mystery for another time. At least she was eating something. She dug around a bit longer before checking the front pocket. There they were! Gloves! Or more like glove. She frowned. Only one. And no creams or wipes. “Looks like we’re going to Carol’s office.” “Looks like we’re going to Carol’s office.” Hortensia repeated in a flat monotone voice. Jennifer stared at her. “Hortensia? Are you awake?” “Are you awake?” “Can you hear me?” “Can you hear me?” Hortensia mimicked. Jennifer stared at her in surprise. This was… new. She waved a hand in front of her face before snapping her fingers. Hortensia didn’t react, just stared straight ahead with the same dead eyed expression. She put the nappy back where she had found it and slung the pack over her shoulder. She hoisted Hortensia up by the arms into a standing position before linking an arm with hers. Jennifer hated the idea of parading her through the office like this, but she wanted Carol to see. She ignored the curious glances as she slowly guided Hortensia through the busy front office, out the door, and across the hall where she found Matilda talking with Lavender. “Hi, Miss Honey!” Lavender called. “Hi, Miss Honey.” Hortensia repeated. The girls stared at her. “Is it recess?” Jennifer asked. Hortensia echoed the question. Lavender nodded, still staring curiously at the older girl. “Matilda, how about you and Lavender go out and play. I’ve got something I need to take care of. I’ll be a bit.” “I’ll be a bit.” Matilda looked from Jennifer, to Hortensia, and then back to Jennifer. “O-okay?” Matilda said, sounding more like a question than a statement. “Why are you repeating what we say?” “...what we say.” Lavender giggled thinking it was a game, but Matilda furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t know.” Jennifer answered truthfully earning herself an echo. “She’ll come to in a bit. Go play.” “Go play.” Matilda stared at them a moment longer before turning and heading out to the playground with Lavender. “Jennifer, thanks for the food!” Carol said, looking up from her book as they walked inside. “Thanks for the food.” Hortensia muttered. “You know if she gives up on being a doctor, a chef could be a good second.” “A chef could be a good second.” “See, she agrees with me.” “She agrees with me.” Carol rolled her eyes. “A little too old to be mimicking people.” Hortensia repeated her admonishment. “Problem.” Jennifer mouthed over her head and pointed at her. Carol stared at her curiously before wrinkling her face. She covered her nose and waved a hand in front of her face. “She usually zones out when she has an accident, but now she’s repeating everything she hears.” Jennifer whispered in Carol’s ear. Carol looked Hortensia over for a moment. “Are you sure she’s not messing around?” “Are you sure she’s not messing around?” Jennifer nodded and bit her lip. There was no life in her eyes, and the way she repeated everything in a flat monotone pitch… Something about it made the hair on Jennifer’s arms rise. It was unsettling. Carol leaned down in Hortensia’s face and began to make silly gestures, even going so far as to stick up her middle finger, something Jennifer didn’t appreciate, but Hortensia failed to react at all. “Hortensia? Can you hear me?” Carol asked before receiving an echo in reply. Carol frowned before shrugging. “Does she usually snap out of it on her own?” “Once I change her. Can I have some wipes and gloves? She packed a spare but nothing to clean her with.” “Have you ever let her stay like this and see if she wakes up on her own?” Jennifer nodded and held up a single finger. Never again. “What happened?” “Started screaming like she was having one of her fits, but more…” Jennifer frowned trying to come up with the right words. “Like a toddler having a meltdown.” Feet, arms, fists, legs and poo flying every which way. “It’s better to take care of it before it gets to that point. I have to manually move her, but she’ll stay that way, see.” Jennifer lifted up Hortensia’s arm and it stayed in the air. Carol’s expression turned grim. She looked like she wanted to say something, but shook her head and went to retrieve the supplies. When Jennifer finished, she came back out to find Carol combing through a very large volume. It was the same one she often caught Matilda going through, the nursing textbook with all the graphic pictures. “Has she come to yet?” Carol asked without looking up. “Takes a bit usually, ten minutes at most, but she’s often very disoriented. I try and be there when she wakes up.” “Have you talked to her doctor about this?” “Yes, her psychiatrist says her spacing out is a trauma response.” But Carol shook her head. “That’s not ‘spacing out’.” She slid the book over so Jennifer could read the paragraph. She bent down and read the headline. Akinetic Catatonia. She breezed though the article, not understanding half the medical jargon, but stopped when she saw the list of symptoms. “What’s negavatism?” Jennifer asked as she read through the list. She didn’t like how much this sounded like her. She liked the treatment and causes even less. Schitzophrenia? Brain tumors? Electro convulsive therapy? “You saw how she didn’t respond when I was making faces and talking to her.” Jennifer pinched the bridge of her nose and slid the book back. “Jen, she might need inpatient care.” “No.” Jennifer said. “I am not leaving her at some mental hospital and wiping my hands of her. She’s a child!” “I’m not saying drop her off and forget about her, it’s just something you might need to consider. She needs help.” “And i’m getting her help.” She could feel herself growing defensive. She took a deep breath. “It could be as simple as a change in medication. I’m only talking worst case scenario, i’m not a psychiatrist.” Carol said. They both looked up at the sound of rustling plastic. She was coming to. Jennifer went to her side as Hortensia slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Easy. Easy.” Jennifer whispered as Hortensia wobbled and held her head in her hands. “Do you know where you are?” Carol asked. Hortensia nodded. “Do you know how you got here?” Hortensia nodded again. “Can you speak?” “Yes.” She mumbled before staring at Jennifer. And then she said something that made her stomach drop. “You’re poisoning me.”

Here's something positive. It's been just over a week since I got the new surgery scheduled, and now there's just over 9 weeks left. I'm hoping those weeks can move quickly. I couldn't help myself and when I emailed Paris this evening with some other questions I asked if Dr. Ivan has always seen effective results with a 2nd surgery or if he's ever needed to do a 3rd surgery. I just want something to latch onto. And I told her I'm hoping he's able to be "very aggressive" with this operation. 🙏

You are most kind

Wearing 24/7 and when I was still working I wore to work, after I had dribbling , spots on my uniform, That to say it's exciting to wear to work mainly if your company has no idea. And my job was an oilfield electrician I was afraid that I would have had issues with the company letting me keep working . But It was cool to be wearing secretly at work.

I wear diapers at work. I'm still nervous about having an accident if anything changes, and I have been leaking a couple times here and there although I'm mostly just dry. At home I don't wear diapers. Ha, yeah, it's definitely something that didn't seem the most likely and it's not what I wanted. But that's okay, the new procedure is barely two months away now. 🙂 No change other than feeling definitely fully healed now. Still retrograde ejaculation. Basically no blockages now. Very weak stream. And no leaking for the most part. I make it to the bathroom to pee out 99% of my urine. It's hard to tell what's best. In all the reading I did about TURP, larger catheters and keeping catheters in longer was associated with an increased risk of stricture. To me there shouldn't really be any need for the catheter treatment itself to become incontinent. It should just be in long enough to allow things to heal. Although I did read that urethral dilation prior to a sugery can reduce the risk of stricture. So I plan to cath up to 22fr or more on a regular and increasing basis prior to my upcoming surgery. But I'm still planning to take the catheter out on the normal schedule unless I see literature about longer or bigger catheter improving my outcomes. But so far I haven't seen anything supporting that. 🤷‍♂️

Thanks so much!

I guess I read your mind as I was already doing so.

Cute chapter all around, kinda bummed the exposition of Emma's Backstory was sidelined. But her insecurities and vulnerability were a very nice touch. Although I cant help but feel she's hiding some details... We'll see

Good evening! I know I've kept you all waiting, but Chapter 8 is finally complete and here for you to enjoy. I'll just let the chapter speak for itself. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 8: Spaghetti & Secrets June 4th, 2023. 7:24pm My eyes open to the sound of the engine shutting off. That was a hell of a nap. I turn to my left, watching Emma unbuckle her seatbelt. I catch her eye, having noticed my awakening. “Come on sweetie, the quicker we get out, the quicker we can eat.” Groggily, I rub the drowsiness from my eyes before undoing the buckle, and stepping out of the car. I step into the parking lot, looking up at the brightened marquee before me; it reads La Luce Della Sera. “The night light?” I ask, unsure of the translation. “Close, my love. It means ‘The Evening Light’. But I guess ‘Night Light’ would be more appropriate for you, wouldn’t it?” I can feel my face becoming warm, doubly so when she takes my hand, walking me up to the stained glass doors. We stop just before entering, and Emma turns to look at me. “Now, how do you want this date to go? Would you like to stay in control, or would you like Mommy to take care of ordering for you?” Oh goddess, that really pushes my buttons. Should I just give in, and allow her to take hold of the evening? But it’s been so long since we’ve had a real date night. “I think tonight should just be about us, enjoying the evening without play.” Emma looks a bit disappointed but accepts my answer. “Alright love, let’s get inside.” Entering through the doors, my eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lighting inside. Hand in hand, we approach the host stand. A young gentleman looks up from his service screen. His well-dressed attire does not match his face, adorned with the horrifying side effects of puberty. I can tell from his skin that he washes daily, but the acne of youth seems to persist. “Hello, welcome to La Luce Della Sera. My name is Matt. Table for two?” “Yes, thank you, Matt.” Emma’s voice comes out in that professional tone I know, reserved for business meetings and professional scenarios. I guess this place is pretty fancy. “Perfect, we actually have a booth opened up at the moment; let me show you to your seats.” I’m glad we don’t have to wait, I’d probably starve to death if I had to stand here for too long. We follow Matt towards the back end of the restaurant, passing the tables adorned with pristine white tablecloths. I can smell the food of the other patrons, my mouth watering in anticipation. Reaching a small booth at the back corner of the establishment, he places a couple of menus down on the table. “Your server shall be with you shortly.” “Thank you, hun. Here, for your troubles.” She pulls a neatly folded Twenty from her purse, which Matt seems to be grateful for. Too many people forget to tip the host. “It’s my pleasure ma’am. Let me know if you need anything.” He returns to the host desk after a small bow, and we take our seats. I step into the C-shaped seating, sinking into the red-leathered upholstery. Emma does the same, setting her handbag underneath the tablecloth, the accessory disappearing from view. On the dining surface, a pair of menus sit in front of us, and silverware to the sides, wrapped up in maroon napkins. I can almost make out my reflection from the glassy finish of the rolled-up cutlery. “Dang Em, this place is beautiful. There’s such an aura to this establishment, like love clings to the very air,” She places her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together. She leans forward, giving me that smile I so adore. I said something right. One point for Roxie. I can feel my face becoming flushed, and I return her smile with one of my own; perhaps not one of the same confidence, but lovingly just the same, or so I hope. Looking at her now, it’s almost easy to forget that this was the same woman paddling my backside just a few hours ago. But looking at her now, I just see her. I see Emma, the woman who found me years ago, at my lowest point. The one who took me in, sheltered me, gave me warmth, and most of all, gifted me with her love. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what role we’re playing, or what contract we signed. To me, whether I call her “Mommy” or “Ma’am”, she’s still Emma at heart, and if I had to guess, it’s probably the same for her. Underneath all the diapers, onesies, and littleness, I’m still Roxie to her. But then, like a scratched DVD skipping to a different part of the scene, my mind flashes an afterimage to me. The contract. It says that I should call her " Ma’am " when out and about. Does that apply right now? I mean, I AM diapered at the moment. Even though I’m wearing ‘big-girl clothes’ over it, it’s still there. Are the rules still in effect? Did I already break one of them? I know I won’t find the answer inside my head, so I work up my nerve to ask. “Emma, should I…how should I refer to you right now?” My voice comes out as a shy whisper, not wanting those dining around us to overhear. “I mean, I know we’re on a date right now, but with…my current attire…what does that mean? Should I…call you…Ma’am right now.” It seems like I can’t stop blushing tonight. I probably look like a tomato dressed in black. This seems to get a humorous response from Emma, chuckling behind her closed hands. Was…was something I said funny? “Sorry baby, I’m not laughing at you, I just wasn’t expecting that one,” I feel slightly relieved, if not a tad bit ticked. “We’re on a grown-up date, so of course you can call me Emma.” “Sorry, I just thought…with the contract…” I can’t continue. I feel like I’m wearing a big ol’ dunce cap right now. “Oh, I see now,” she unclasps her hands and lays one of them face up on the table, opening her fingers. I place my hand on top, feeling her soft grip around my palm. “Honey, the contract is just a guideline, not doctrine. All it does is give us a clear idea of how we should act when playing; it doesn’t change anything about our romantic relationship. Right now, you’re an adult, despite your special underwear,” I know she’s being quiet enough for others to remain unaware, but I glance around, my paranoia briefly taking hold of my senses. Only after seeing for myself that everyone else is too wrapped up in their conversations do I return my eyes to Emma. “And when you’re an adult, you can assume the contract no longer applies. If we were on a ‘playdate’ on the other hand, things would be different, but tonight, you can call me Emma.” I feel much calmer having discussed my worries. I begin to get lost in those beautiful eyes of hers; so much so, that I almost don’t notice the arrival of our waitress. “Hello, welcome to La Luce Della Sera! My name’s Abby, and I’ll be your waitress for the evening,” Her plucky demeanor pulls all of the emotions out of the air, grounding me back to reality. “Can I start you off with something to drink? I highly recommend the Pinot Noir.” NOPE. No more alcohol, ever. My stomach turns just thinking of my drunken escapade. Besides, even if I wanted to drink, I have to drive my car back tonight, so that’s off the table. “Just a Diet Coke for me, please.” “And I’ll take a water, thank you.” I can see Abby is disappointed by our choices but writes them down in her notepad, her smile slightly cracking, but remaining on her face. I guess this place is big on upselling. “Alright, I’ll get those for you right away. Do you need a moment, or are you ready to order?” Shit, I almost forgot why we’re here. I hadn’t even begun to look over the menu, let alone make my choice. I look over to Emma and see her in the same conundrum. “I think we need a couple of moments.” Abby gives a small bow at my answer. “Of course ma’am. Take all of the time you need. I’ll be back in a few moments with your drinks.” She rushes towards the back of the restaurant, heading behind the swinging back door. No more words are exchanged between Emma and I, each busy burying our noses in the menus before us. I look over the entrees, mouth watering at the tantalizing pictures, before my eyes pop out of my head. What the fuck?!? Did they accidentally type an extra zero…on every price? I don’t think my wallet will survive the night. I’m now regretting spending so much at the card shop, not to mention the double shots from the prior evening. “Hey Em, this place might be a bit too…fancy for me,” She quizically raises her brow, unsure of what I mean. “I’m saying I don’t think I can afford these prices right now.” “You spent the last of your paycheck on cards and drinks, didn’t you?” I look away, too ashamed to answer. “Don’t worry babe, I’ve got tonight covered. After all, date night was my idea. We’ve really got to talk about your spending habits, but for now, let’s focus on tonight.” Says the woman who just set up a nursery in our spare room. I know that’s not fair to think. I know she works hard to earn her massive pay. Besides, I don’t even know how much she spent to get everything put together. In fact, how DID she get it together so quickly? I know I was gone for most of the day, but still, there must have been a lot of work putting everything together. More than that, there was the question of supplies. How do you get an adult-sized crib in the span of a single day? Even with her mysterious “friend”, it’s not like something that size can be finished in the span of an afternoon; the drafting, sanding, priming, it all takes a considerable amount of time. From my late nights of reading about ABDL ventures and businesses, I know that a crib is weeks, if not months, of work. Not to mention the stocking of supplies. Thinking back, the shelves were full of diapers, some with designs I know weren't in my personal stash. How did she get them so quickly? Even if she ordered them the same day she caught me, even the fastest shipping wouldn’t have gotten them there in time. It’s not like we had a fetish store anywhere near us; trust me, I’ve checked. The crib, the diapers, the pad for the changing table, none of it quite makes sense…unless she already had some supplies on hand. Has she…done this with someone else? She mentioned being into Ageplay, but how much of this does she have first-hand experience with? Her actions the other night didn’t feel like that of an amateur. It was too confident, too knowledgeable. What exactly hasn’t she told me? The pieces seem to fall into place, but the picture isn’t complete. The only thing that would make the most sense would be that she got a lot of the supplies from her unknown friend, or that same friend was holding onto stuff for her. Perhaps a mix of both? But that leaves me with more questions than answers. Like, what sort of friend would just happen to have a crib ready to go? If he did give her some supplies, was it some sort of favor, or did he ask for compensation? Same with the crib. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never, not once, seen Emma frivolously spend money. Perhaps this could’ve been an exception? But even that wouldn’t explain everything. If her friend was anything like me, their supplies were purchased for a reason. Someone is, or was, using them. And if that’s the case, whoever was using, or was going to use them, gave them up. Hundreds, perhaps thousands if you count the crib, of dollars of supplies, just given away? Money or no money, it doesn’t make sense to me. Just who is this friend of hers? I was so lost in thought, that I forgot where I was for a moment, only regaining my senses by the clearing of a throat to my side. Abby stands next to the table, pen and paper in hand. “And for you, Ma’am?” Shit, I was too lost in thought! Quick, what’s a good choice? Umm, AH THERE! “Sorry, I’ll have the Tagliatelle Bolognese, please.” Our waitress quickly scribbles the order down, her patience with me clearly being tested. “Alright, that’s one Cod Arracanato and one Tagliatelle Bolognese. Would you like anything else this evening?” “No, thank you. That will be all.” Abby accepts Emma’s answer, returning once again to the kitchen to place the order. Damn Rox, now’s not the time to get lost in thoughts. “You alright babe?” Emma looks me over, curious about my recent distraction. I wonder if she knows what’s going through my head. “Ye…yeah, I’m fine, just hungry is all.” *** It doesn’t take too long for our food to arrive, the delicate aroma of authentic Italian cuisine bringing a tear to my eye. Don’t drool, don’t drool, don’t drool. It takes all of my effort to keep my composure, the steaming concoction of sauce, meat, and pasta just begging to be devoured. “I hope you both enjoy! Please let me know if you need anything else this evening.” With our thanks, Abby heads off to help the rest of the tables in her section. I unwrap the silverware, take the fork, and twist it around in the heavenly dish. I place the pasta in my mouth, slurping up the few strands hanging off the ball. My tastebuds react instantly, the combination of flavors covering my tongue. “Oh my goddess, this may just be the best Bolognese I’ve ever had.” Emma laughs in response. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your dish, but you’ve got sauce on your chin.” I quickly pick up the napkin, dabbing my face off before going in for another bite. Whilst my eating style is…unrefined, Emma’s affairs with the upper echelons of society have brought her dining skills up to the pro level, expertly cutting her fish into smaller pieces before gently placing them between her lips. “The cod is impeccable. Would you like to try some?” “No thank you, I’ll stick to the pasts.” Yuck, fish. Unless it was a raw piece of sushi, my body rejects the taste of seafood. We continue dining, only taking small breaks from the food to wet our buds with the drinks. It isn’t long before our plates sit empty, our food completely devoured. I can hear Emma clearing her throat, speaking up for the first time since the arrival of the dishes. “So, about Saturday,” Oh no, I’m in for another lecture, aren’t I? “We didn’t get to talk about any of the fun bits. I mean, Beth, at the card shop, going out for drinks; besides a few slurred comments, I didn’t really get to know how your day went, so let’s fix that.” Phew, that’s a relief. “Well, you didn’t miss too much from the card shop. She had a rather outdated deck, so I folded her with ease. Afterward, we started venting about work, and all of Tom’s bullshit, and she figured this kind of talk is better suited to a bar rather than over a card table. So, we get to the bar, start off with a shot, talk shit about the quarterly deadline, and had some more shots. I only vaguely remember the rest of the night. It’s kind of a blur from that point on.” I see her twisting the ring around her finger, looking…apprehensive? She’s worried about something, but what? “So, you mentioned something about her having two boyfriends? What’s that about?” Her eyes flicker between me and the glass of water on the table, picking it up and taking a gulp. She rests the glass back down, the liquid inside splashing around from the uneven movement. I guess I remember Beth telling me about that. The details could be clearer, but I remember the gist. Why…why is that what she remembers? “Yeah…she told me how they met, and how their 4-year anniversary was coming up. I think it was something involving body shots and a piñata. Why do you ask?” Her fingers circle the rim of the glass, a low-pitched whine just barely audible above the hustle and bustle of the busy eatery. It’s a habit of hers that I know all too well. When something is bothering her, or she has something on her mind, Emma’s fingers never sit still. They fidget, almost as if the thoughts in her head are trying to make their way out through physical action. “And what do you think of that…Polyamory, I mean? Ha, I mean, it’s kinda crazy, right?” Her nervous laugh stands out immediately. Where is she going with this? I’m getting a clearer picture of the puzzle, with more and more pieces falling into place, but I need to push this a bit farther to be certain. I choose my words with precision, and like laying down a trap card, I’m leaving no room for error. “I don’t think it’s crazy at all. Unconventional, sure, but love is unconventional. After all, even a date between two women was once considered ‘unconventional’, but here we are, enjoying the evening. It’s like I always say; love is love, no matter the form.” “Yeah, I guess you would say that.” The circling of the rim increases in speed, the pitch increasing to a mid-tone. It’s time for the final nail in the coffin. “Emma,” I take her hand away from the glass, holding it tight. She looks a bit surprised at the role reversal, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know when you’re hiding something from me. I can see it as clearly as a full moon in the sky, so don’t bother denying it. This ‘friend’ of yours, the one who helped you out yesterday, there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” It’s hard for me to tell exactly what she’s feeling right now. There seems to be a range of emotions coursing through her: surprise, anticipation, worry, but mainly fear. “It always surprises me how smart you are, Roxie.” While I don’t know the details, I know that feeling. The one of being caught, and having something so personal dragged out into the open. It was only just recently that I was going through the same fears, the same worries. I rub my fingers over her knuckles, the reassuring gesture seeming to lighten a bit of the emotional load. “You’ve been so fantastic these past few days, listening to me, helping me explore this world of ours. Now, it’s my turn. Tell me everything Amore, and don’t spare a single detail.” *** “WOW,” I knew I was right on the money, but damn Emma! I never knew you had that in you! “So you, Alex, and Jessica were an item? I’ve gotta say, that explains so much.” “Like what?” Emma’s smile returns, but it’s not the confident smirk that I’ve grown so used to. It’s more…open. Vulnerable, even. I can tell her explanation has left her walls down, the front having been worn to ashes. “Well, it explains…everything really. I mean, your supplies, your knowledge of the ‘craft’, the way you handle yourself during our ‘activities’, that all comes with experience. Even with the BDSM background, there’s no way to just instantly translate that into Ageplay. At least, not as effectively as you’ve done. But the Poly part, now THAT was unexpected.” “The good kind of unexpected, or the ‘my girlfriend is a perv’ kind?” There’s humor in Emma’s voice, mixed with that remaining hint of negativity. “Are you kidding babe? After everything we’ve done with each other, do you honestly think a little Polyamory is going to weird me out? There’s only one thing I have to ask. Why did you wait so long to tell me? I get not letting me know in the beginning; we were still getting to know each other. But it’s been 2 years, Em. You could’ve let me know you had that sort of relationship, even if you left out all the kinky business.” Emma looks deep into my eyes, her glossy retinas reflecting the glow of the lighting. “I know, I should’ve talked to you about this sooner. I guess…a part of me was afraid. Afraid of how you would take it. Like, maybe some part of you would feel at fault for me ending things with them. It’s just that I liked you so much, and knowing the relationship troubles you went through…I dunno. Maybe I thought it would be too complex, too strange of a situation to find yourself in. I’ve never felt that kind of fear about anything, for anyone. So I stepped away from two of the people I was closest to and pretended to be this boring, vanilla, in-control woman that I thought you needed. It was stupid, but I guess…I didn’t want to lose you.” Oh Emma, you beautiful, sweet idiot. I slide myself around the bend of the booth, getting face-to-face with this amazing woman. “You will never lose me, Emma. Sorry to say it, but you’re stuck with me.” I bring my lips closer, bridging the distance even further. I lock them with hers, ignoring the taste of fish on her breath. For her, I’ll deal with it. I break off from the kiss, moving my lips to her ear. “You wanna know what else?” I can feel her bated breath on my neck. “The whole Poly thing? It’s pretty hot.” Emma breaks out into a fit of laughs, causing me to back away slightly. Well, that wasn’t exactly the reaction I was looking for. I can see heads turning from the other tables at the sudden outburst, before returning to their own business. “So…sorry, it’s just,” Emma tries to get her words out between the giggles. “You’re messing with me, right?” “Nope!” I say as I lay my head on her shoulder, the giggles seceding. “You said…Alex was his name? Well, you mentioned his open offer. If that’s something you’re still interested in, I suppose I wouldn’t mind giving some group play a try.” I can feel her body shifting into mine, her head tilting down to look at me. “Are you sure Roxie? That’s kind of a big step to take, especially since we’ve only just begun figuring out the dynamic with just us.” It’s my turn to let out a chuckle, although not one as loud as hers. “I’m not saying it has to happen right away, or even at all. All I’m saying is that I’m more than open to the idea.” Speaking of openings, I can feel my bladder getting ready to burst. “Oh, and one more thing.” “What’s that?” She looks at me for a moment before I close my eyes, letting the dam break. I let out a long sigh, feeling the warmth between my legs. Seconds pass, and I open my eyes to see her staring at me, that confident grin having returned in earnest. “Did you just do what I think you did?” “What can I say, the drinks just went right through me.” I look up at her, not noticing her hand moving downwards until I feel her hand along the hem of my jeans. I jump a bit in place. “Em, what’re you doing?” I ask in a hushed whisper. “I’m just giving you a quick check sweetie. Don’t worry, you’re completely covered by the tablecloth. As long as you don’t move around too much, nobody will be none the wiser.” I look down, seeing the truth in her words. My body is almost completely obstructed in my current position, but my heartbeat refuses to slow down. I can feel her hand entering into my pants, expertly making its way towards my crotch. I feel her hand gently cup the exterior of my padding through the end of the onesie. There’s no way this is an effective check. “Good job sweetie, you certainly filled your diaper up.” Her hushed tones send a shiver down my spine, making it hard to stay inconspicuous. I can feel my member come to life, enjoying the sensation. Her hand quickly exits from around my body, and I almost groan aloud at its removal. AWW! Why did she stop? I can see my answer walking towards us, the bill in hand. “Thank you for dining with us this evening. I hope you two lovebirds enjoyed your time at La Luce Della Sera!” Yeah, Abby, I was having a great time until you ruined it! I fight my urge to scowl at the poor girl as Emma grabs the check. “Thank you, Abby. We had a fantastic evening. Thank you for your exceptional service.” Emma, how are you always so polite? I watch her grab her purse, placing a few bills inside before handing the check back to Abby. “It was my pleasure looking after you two this evening. Ask for me anytime, I’m here most evenings.” With her farewell, the waitress leaves once more to attend to the rest of her duties. “Alright baby, let’s get out of here.” Emma takes hold of my hand as we both exit the booth, making our way to the entrance. We wave our goodbyes to Matt, who offers a nod in return, as we step out into the evening air. *** The ride over to my car is a short, but sweet one. I refused to let go of Emma’s hand, leaving her with only a single one on the steering wheel. I had hoped we could stay in this bliss forever, enjoying the passing lights of the cars and buildings, but all too soon, we pulled up to the bar’s parking lot. A thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts, right? “Alright my love, we’re here. Do you just want to follow behind me?” “Thanks, Em, but if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to sit in my car for a moment and just think for a bit.” I had a lot going through my head and could use a moment to sort through my thoughts. Emma looks at me, concerned for a moment, before seemingly brushing it off. “Alright, well don’t sit for too long. Don’t forget, you’ve got work tomorrow.” No need to remind me. After all the excitement this weekend, I’m almost looking forward to some normality. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time!” I quickly give her a peck on the cheek before unbuckling myself and opening the door. “I’ll see you at home, Mommy.” “Okay baby, I’ll make sure a ‘night light’ is on for you.” I chuckle before stepping out into the brisk autumn night and closing the door behind me. Walking towards my car, I can see the lights from behind me begin to vanish as she pulls into the road. It’s been about five seconds, but I miss her already. Getting to the door of my own vehicle, I pull my keys out of my pocket, hearing the chirp from my beloved ‘Susie’. “I missed you too, old girl.” Hopping inside, I let my shoulders lean back into the familiar cushion. Looking at the passenger seat, I see my bag of purchases from yesterday. Well, now's as good of a time as any. I pull the cassette box out, removing the tape from its shield. I pick up my walkman from the passenger side floor, pop the tape in, and plug in the aux adapter. Grabbing my keys, I turn the ignition on, the engine sputtering to life. Glad you’re still kicking my friend. The audio clicks to life, and I notice the very ending of Track 2. “Huh, I guess the last owner wasn’t kind and didn’t rewind,” I say to myself. I open up the glove box, hesitating for a moment before pulling out my pack of smokes. Only fitting for this next track. I just managed to light the tip before Track 3 begins in earnest. I let the mellow tones of the guitar fill my ears as I take a drag. Some demons are easier to battle than others. I take just a couple more hits before extinguishing the ashes in the cupholder, leaving the half-finished cigarette to die out. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make an effort. I sit there for just a moment longer, listening as the track fades out. So many things have happened, whether it’s the events of tonight or the weekend as a whole. Honestly, I should feel overwhelmed, but I don’t. I strangely feel content. No, that's not it. I feel…peaceful. Even considering the future, something that used to be a source of anxiety, was now something to look forward to. A positive, rather than a negative. I buckle my seatbelt as Track 4 begins to play, and I shift the gear into reverse, slowly backing out of the spot. I pull out into the road, looking forward to rejoining my love at home and climbing into our warm bed for some deserved rest. Wait, don’t I have a crib now? I wonder if I’m sleeping there from now on. Eh, there’s only one way to find out. (End of Act I) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thank you for reading Act 1 of Embracing Oneself. I'm currently hard at work on the next chapter, and I'm really looking forward to you all seeing what's to come. Chapter 9 should be out in a couple days, barring any delays. Once again, thank you very much for reading.

Chapter 103: Descendants BETH WAS DRESSED and out the door feeling a little more refreshed that day. Knowing there was no filming today in class helped take some of the edge off her nerves. She made it to the cafeteria before any of the Littles’ nests to get her food and claim a table. She was joined by Livy, who had convinced her to get up early that morning. She noticed the sea of ponytails, bunches, braided pigtails, and other ‘cute’ hairstyles coming in when she identified a giant hairbow on a girl coming straight towards her table. Her mouth dropped open. Livy asked, “What?” She just pointed and soon heard her best friend giggling like a crazy woman. “Carly?” She asked, “Where in the world did that bow come from?” She couldn’t suppress her own amusement. Carly sighed, “Apparently, Miss Lilly likes styling all of her girl’s hair in the morning?” “It’s gigantic,” Livy giggled some more. “Maybe it would look okay on someone her size?” Carly suggested. “No, it’s sized for a child, but it’s definitely over the top. Leave your stuff here, I’ll watch it, and go get your food.” Beth said. As Carly walked away, Livy said, “When do I get to play with her hair. She’s adorable!” “Hands off?” Beth said, looking at her. “No worries, Beth, you can have the adorable girl, but you have to admit it’s hard to believe your too-short boyfriend is now among the cutest little girls on campus?” Beth sighed, “Personally, I think she is the cutest. We’ll have to really keep an eye out for her when we’re off campus.” When Carly returned, Beth helped her onto the taller bench seat beside her and watched her eat an impossible number of calories. “Where do you put it all?” Beth asked. “Probably in this stupid diaper later?” she responded to her. “Still no control?” Beth asked. Carly shook her head, “No unless we get rid of those nanites and the protein, I’ll be incontinent forever.” “That sucks,” Livy said. “Sorry,” she added. Carly nodded, “Yeah, it does. I guess it’s the price I have to pay to be beautiful?” Beth smirked knowingly, and Livy laughed at the part she understood. The conversation moved on to plans for the week and the weekend, and eventually, the three of them split up. Beth went to the library to a lab to study for Signals, and Livy walked to class. Just before they split, Beth saw that Carly got a message that her grandma would be picking her up for a doctor’s appointment after screenwriting. “Guess I’ll see you at narratives?” She told her after giving her a hug. “Yeah, see you there!” Beth and her shadowing bodyguard made their way to the lab, where she used a HoloSystem to manipulate a lab assignment for her signals class. It wasn’t due until the next week, but she had no desire to put things off with as crazy as her life had been! Beth spent time loading the lab materials and sorting through the assignment one step at a time. It was a bit of an exploratory lab that she was sure would have been more difficult if she didn’t have a tutor for the subject. She sighed, ‘I hope Carly and I can get through this safely.’ Before she knew it, it was time to head to her class, and she quickly discovered she was ahead of most of the class based on some of the questions being asked. At one point, one of her classmates next to her asked, “Do you understand this?” She just nodded, “Yeah?” “Care to help me study?” She realized the boy was looking at her closer than she noticed before. He was kind of cute, but she wasn’t interested. “Sorry, my study partner and I are already pretty exclusive?” “Worth a shot,” he said with a smile. “Let me know if that ever changes!” Beth nodded but started packing her stuff up as soon as the class ended to escape the awkward feeling with the boy that remained! I HAD MADE it to Screenwriting and endured a severe crush of ‘what happened’ questions until Mason stepped in, “Time to leave Carly alone, please,” he said, getting between me and a few of the girls who were clearly crushing on me even more now! “Thanks, Mason,” I said, having nearly forgotten he was in Screenwriting with me. “No problem, wouldn’t do for our group’s star to get mobbed,” he laughed. “I don’t see Charlotte anywhere?” I told him. He laughed, “I think the rest of the crew and I have decided the story is as much yours as the mom’s, though. I’m not sure who would really get the supporting role in an award?” I shrugged, “I think it’s clear the star is Charlotte; she has more scenes than I do.” “Maybe…? How’d your animation script turn out?” “Pretty good, I think?” The professor started the class right then, and we once again delved into several scripts, including mine. We were also informed the animation studio would be picking their scripts on Thursday. “I hope mine gets made,” I told Mason as he helped me down from the chair. “I’m sure it will; it sounds awesome to me! Much better than the classic drivel I came up with!” I laughed, “We’ll see! Classic drivel is classic for a reason!” He walked me out of class, and I discovered Grandma was waiting for me. “Hi, Grandma,” I said to her. “Hi, sweetheart!” she said and scooped me up. I turned red, but I had to accept my size meant being picked up was inevitable. Now that I was in diapers and a girl, it seemed to be happening even more often. “So what’s this appointment?” “It’s a follow-up with Doctor Nickerson. We want to see if there has been any change since you were in on Sunday. It’ll help us establish if we can develop any treatments moving forward?” As she said that, I felt her hand reach discreetly under the skirt of my jumper. “Let’s go get you in a clean diaper before we go, though,” she said quietly. She had me on the changing table as a couple of the other girls from my class were finishing up their own potty runs after sitting still for so long. Emma was shorter than Grandma but still towered over me as she passed by and gave me a friendly smile and wave even as Grandma lifted my butt into the air. I was pretty sure my face was redder than it had been in a few hours, at least! “What about my seminar class?” I asked her as she carried me to the adjacent hospital campus. “If you check your email, you should see that the university board of regents has voted to cancel that requirement for current students. You won’t have to attend it again this semester while you’re here.” “That’s awesome!” I couldn’t help but smile. She nodded, “Hopefully, it stays gone, but I won’t hold my breath. I’m still waiting to see who they appoint as the permanent new Dean of Littles and Head Nest Mother.” “Hopefully it won’t be worse?” I said. “Hopefully,” she agreed. “The politics have gotten ugly, though. I’m a little bit nervous at how little was said at the end of last week.” I thought back to how quickly things had seemed to die down, “That does seem a little strange?” Walking through the entrance doors, I saw Fred sitting in a chair. He waved at us as Grandma carried me to check me in with the HoloReceptionist. We sat for fifteen minutes before a nurse showed up to direct our party down a few hallways and to a room. “No front door service this time?” I asked. “Can’t always be treated special? Plus, I’m sure Holly is probably coming from surgery or doing pre-consults,” Grandpa said. “I still can’t believe she’s from my dimension and somehow is working as a surgeon here,” I told them. “It is a little unbelievable. When Beth’s dad, Cameron, was trying to keep from being adopted by Addison, she was invaluable. The judge was actually forced at first to acknowledge her credibility as a surgeon until Addison’s mom had her poisoned.” I made a face at that, “Beth’s grandma sounds like she was a real witch.” “She was,” Grandma said. “Actually, I’ve heard she’s still just as vile, just pint-sized at this point…” I was about to ask what she meant when the door was opened for us, and the nurse said, “Doctor Nickerson will be down in just a moment. Would you please have your granddaughter down to just her diaper and help her put on this gown?” “Huh…?” I started to ask as the door closed. “Does she think I can’t dress myself?” “Probably,” Grandma said. Go ahead and strip out of your uniform. Try to be careful with that adorable bow, though!” I groaned, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” She laughed at me, and a moment later, she had assisted me with putting on the horrible gown. It was as if the world was in on the joke, though, as it was pink and covered in unicorns and rainbows!!! The examination bed was again lowered closer to the ground. When Dr. Nickerson entered, I decided they must have custom-designed examination rooms for her. “Hi Carly, Amanda, Fred,” she said as she came in and closed the door. They made some pleasant small talk before she started to get serious. There was a stool that was ‘tall for her,’ and a moment later, she sat on it while holding a tablet. “Okay, Carly. I want to go ahead and start scanning you. Can you just lay back on the bed for me?” I nodded and laid back, suddenly feeling a few belts go across me automatically. “Don’t worry, Carly. I just want to make absolutely sure you stay still for this scan. It’ll only take half a minute.” I sat still, held down by the belts from the top of my chest to my hips, knees, and ankles. About thirty seconds later, there was a ‘beep’ sound, and the straps retracted. “One second,” she said, “You can sit up now.” I did so and watched her manipulate a projected hologram for a few minutes. I thought I could decipher my bladder, spine, and a few other details until she zoomed all the way in. Grandpa joined her and looked at the data himself. The two whispered off to the side for a couple of moments before returning to me. “Okay, so let’s just get this over with, Carly. Right now, you have enough of that protein we discussed before built up on your nervous centers that there is no way you can control your bladder or bowels. If I didn’t know the story, I would believe you had been breastfeeding for a good five years to get this level of effect.” “Five years?!?” I asked. She nodded. “Without any breaks at that!” “Breaks help?” “Somewhat,” she shrugged, “For me, in the beginning, if I didn’t nurse during the week, I would regain some control, at least in my bowels. At this point, though, it’s just a moot point.” “Wait… you still???” She shrugged, “Mommy had a rejuvenation treatment so she could continue nursing me. It’s addictive, but most importantly, quite pleasant if you like your mommy?” “That may go under the file of things I never needed or wanted to know?” She laughed, “You asked!” Turning to Grandma, “Did you have any luck analyzing those nanites?” I looked at Grandma, who nodded, “I think there’s a reason the nanites she came with haven’t done anything.” “What?” I asked. “Your nanites are direct descendants of your mothers, but these are slightly different. I think they’re actually nanites from Beth’s dad, Cameron.” “What?!?” I gasped. BETH LOOKED AT Livy in disbelief. “You think I should break up with her?” “Beth, she’s a trouble magnet! Until she came, you were doing perfectly fine! You had nothing to worry about!” “But it’s not that easy, Livy,” she told her. She felt hurt and angry about it! “What’s not that easy? Why don’t you just say the girl thing isn’t for you?” “Because I love her, Livy.” Livy sighed, “She’s going to lead you straight to an adoption, though!” Beth sighed, “Livy, you just don’t understand…?” “Isn’t she supposed to be going home at the end of the semester even if she’s not adopted?” Beth nodded, “I know, Livy.” She sighed, “Look, Livy, I can’t really explain it? I have had a couple of crushes, but I’ve never felt this way about someone before? Carly, Connor, it doesn’t matter which she is… She’s amazing, and I’ve fallen for her?” Livy sighed, “I just don’t want to see my best friend being led around in one of those stupid backpack harnesses with your droopy diaper peeking out of a dress?” Beth nodded, “Trust me, I don’t want that either!” “Then…?” “I can’t Livy… There’s just something that I can’t let go of with Carly.” Livy sighed, “Fine, I’ll drop it. IF you end up adopted, please plan on me being the first to say, ‘I told you so?’” “You have first dibs,” Beth agreed. “So, anyway… how was the party this weekend?” This time, it was Livy blushing! Beth knew she had her own hooks in her friend. Slowly, she badgered the details out of her that there was a boy named Keith whom she’d met at the party. He was another Tweener, and she was pretty sure she would have another date this weekend. As they talked, she worked to see if Livy could unknowingly help her plan her date with Carly, too! Eventually, as lunch ended, they cleaned up their trays and headed off to their classes. Beth hoped that when she saw Carly, maybe he would have some better news! When she reached the SoundStage, where their class was to be held that day, though, she found a rather confused-looking Carly. “What’s wrong?” She asked her. Carly sighed, “I’ll have to tell you later. Too many ears here?” She nodded, “Are you okay at least?” Carly nodded, “Nothing’s different from what we knew this morning.” Beth knelt down and hugged her momentarily, even as the rest of their studio gathered around them. Professor Wyler came out of the back break room and, after looking around the room, said, “Okay, thanks for meeting here today!” He pressed a sequence on his tablet, and the room became their normal classroom. “Go ahead and have a seat in your studios for now, please.” As we all moved around, Beth found herself seated, sandwiching Carly between her and Charlotte. They all turned to see the professor in the middle of the room. “First, I hope everyone has started filming as of this weekend?” He asked. Most of the groups nodded. “Studio One, how are you doing so far?” “We’ve filmed five scenes, but the special effects are taking some time with that?” their producer answered. “You’ll want to get that stepped up,” Professor Wyler said, “But that is at least a start!” “Studio Two?” “We tried to start filming, but the scenery and programming are not easy with this script?” The producer said. “We’re hoping to get scenes filmed tonight, though, finally?” “You bid on the most expensive script and definitely the most challenging. Hopefully, you have enough left for the special effects?” “That’s part of the problem; we’re having to figure this out on a budget,” he acknowledged. The professor smirked, “I do love game theory. You’ll have a chance to compete for some additional funds today!” Beth noted that the tall Big seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at that! “Studio Four?” she heard a moment later. “Why’d he skip us?” she heard one of the members ask. “No idea,” Sebastian whispered. “Umm… mostly pretty good. Like Studio Two, we’re trying to film on a budget and need some special effects for the script?” Beth grinned when she realized that, as horrible as their script was, it had also been one of the cheapest films! ‘Did PooPloders cost us?’ she wondered though, shifting uncomfortably at the memory of the stickiness. ‘I’m so glad I’m in my panties,’ she thought guiltily, even as she turned and saw Carly out of the corner of her eye. Her skirt had crept up, but Charlotte took that moment to push it down. It had been up long enough for Beth to recognize a diaper that would need to be changed after class! “So, how much have you filmed?” Professor Wyler asked them. “Seven scenes?” The producer said, “As long as we keep that up, we’ll be done before the four-week shooting timeline you gave us?” Professor Wyler nodded, “You will, but remember, you’ll need a lot more editing in your film. If possible, I would try to speed up that filming so you don’t get jammed up.” The producer nodded at him, and he looked at Studio Three. Then, he said, “You’ll notice I skipped Studio Three? I actually keep track of your filming and logs of scenes as you work. Studio Three, would you mind sharing where you’re at?” “We’re completely ‘in the can,’” Charlotte said with a smile. “And that’s how you know they’ll be able to have time to edit!” Professor Wyler smirked. “Nice job; hopefully, you were picky about your filming, though?” “Yes, sir,” Sebastian answered. “We’ve reviewed everything daily and should have all the necessary footage.” “And everything has run smoothly?” “All except one problem…” he said, side-glancing at me. “We’ll have everything on time, though!” “Very good!” he smiled at everyone. “Now, as many of you realized, you’re short on some funds, and knowing that, I’ve come up with another little game to help top up your budgets…” ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like Button and leave me a comment! Today, this post marks a complete year without missing a week of posting!!!! This is a first for me, as I usually run out of chapters by mid-summer due to my short writing season each year. I'm excited to have managed not to miss any weeks! Real life, unfortunately, has exploded this past week, and I may run into a major lull in writing early this year. I'm hoping next weekend and through April, things will improve, but if it doesn't, I may have to switch back to once-per-week posts to stay ahead of myself here. <crossed fingers that doesn't happen yet> I really appreciate all of your support; if you've enjoyed my work, please consider purchasing a copy on Amazon Kindle! All of my completed works are available there! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

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

Hi! I'm Tryss or Tilly! I'm a babyfur who loves all things diapers and ABDL! Also love movies, music (which I produce!) and writing (which I'm trying to do more of). My fursona is a possum-bunny hybrid and is fully representative of how I see myself, if I could turn into them and live my life as a fluffy possumbunny toddler I 100% would! Here to make some friends and hopefully post some writing as I get back into the creative spirit. Feel free to reach out, I only bite if you ask nicely!

Amazing. I love the embarrassment aspect of it. They're always accommodating (it's not that unusual for someone to be protected I guess). The physical sensation of having your legs, back stomach massaged around your diaper is orgasmic. I have climaxed with no happy ending off that alone. They are none the wiser as my diaper contains my cum.

Part 31 With wide eyes, I vigorously shook my head back and forth. That was NOT what I wanted. “Kate-” I began, though it was difficult to even get that much out with the way she was pushing the childish accessory against my lips. “No.” Practically growling in response, she shoved the plastic ring forward and gave another horrifying massage-like rub against my pelvis with the dirty pull-ups. I stiffened and shut up immediately; her cruel movements stopped in response, but her stern gaze remained. “When your pacifier is in, you aren’t allowed to talk. Remember?” Of course. The helpless experience in the car was recent enough, although it was nothing compared to the current moment. Nodding my head with watery eyes, I prayed she would let up. How had I let things come to this?! Technically, Kate never made me do anything. I made each choice for myself. But that didn’t mean that I actually wanted something as ridiculous as being her younger sister; I just kept choosing what sounded like the best option compared to the alternatives she provided. “Good girl,” Kate repeated. She took her hand off the pacifier, but kept her grip down below. “Now, suck on your tit and listen up.” I did as I was told, blushing a bit at the crass term. Going on, Kate said, “Now, I’m tired of you acting out. If you still want my help dealing with your not so little problem, you’re going to behave from here on out. Understand?” Affirming with another awkward nod, I nervously sucked on the pacifier and willed myself to meet her eyes instead of glancing away in embarrassment. “That’s what I thought. Now, since you clearly didn’t get it the first time, here’s what’s going to happen: You are going to be a little ball of fun during your fashion show. I want you to smile, and giggle like a schoolgirl, and be ANNIE. Like, really sell it. Can you manage that, sis?” It was the same directive as before, but the stakes felt a lot higher now. Considering my sister’s no nonsense attitude at the moment, this could very well be my last chance to keep my mortifying secret between just the two of us. And in order to do so, I had to be a bubbly tween? It went against my normal nature in every possible way. Despite my reservations, I found myself nodding. “Good. If you’re the cutest little sister in the whole world, you might even get a change before mini golf. Now, how about a little practice?” Kate finally removed her hand from below my skirt, and used the other to pop the pacifier out of my mouth. Stepping back with an idle smile, she asked, “Are you ready for your fashion show, Annie?” With almost no time to get into character, I simply blurted out the most extreme version of what she was asking for. “Like, oh my God, YES.” Pushing a big smile on my face, and wanting the floor to swallow me up as my sister smiled victoriously towards the sudden burst of energy, I persevered when that wish didn’t come true. “I’m, like, so excited.” “That’s a much better attitude for a girl your size, sis. And you just gave me a really fun idea! Why don’t we give you a quota? You need to say ‘like’ at least five hundred times before we get back from mini golf. I’ll be counting!” Wait, what? My smile shrunk for a moment at just how stupid and childish that would make me sound, but of course that’s probably why she thought of it as ‘really fun.’ In a small act of rebellion, I forced the smile back and agreed with, “Like, that’s like, such a, like, good idea. Like, seriously!” Kate just rolled her eyes. “Nice try, brat. The count stays at zero until the twins are with us. And it’s always paused when it’s just the two of us, even after that. Okay?” The only way to stop myself from arguing was to go in the completely opposite direction in the name of survival. Awkwardly giggling instead, I agreed with an overly enthusiastic, “Okay!” “Like the little sister I always wanted,” Kate smirked, “Keep it up. Your count might pause when we’re alone, but not your lovely attitude. That can stay!” “Of course, sis!” “Now take off your skirt, Annie. And then you’ll need some help getting dressed, right?” Fuck me. I managed to get away with doing the bra myself, but Kate was clearly prompting me to answer the way she wanted. “Umm, yeah,” the giggle was fake, but the nerves behind it were real, “I guess I could use a little help.” As I began removing the last part of my original outfit of the day, I belatedly realized that this would be the first time either of us would be seeing the pull-ups on me by themselves. So far, I had managed to keep myself covered, even after the humiliating process of wetting myself and then worse. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop. Not only had I already partially pulled the skirt down, but I had literally just agreed to be a ‘ball of fun’ with a good attitude. I wasn’t in the best position to argue or backtrack. At least making sure that Kate wasn’t pulling out her phone, even though I was pretty sure she had left it in the bedroom, I reluctantly worked the skirt past the bulky underwear that made the undressing process more difficult than if I had simply been wearing panties. Blushing as pink as the pull-ups that came into view, I quickly shifted my legs and let gravity drop the skirt to my ankles before my embarrassment caused me to yank them back up for protection. “Oh, Annie,” Kate frowned, “Wow, you really filled those up, didn’t you?” NO. It was a weird thought to have, but even wetting and messing myself shouldn’t have caused the considerable sag that I could see and feel a lot more clearly now that Kate was directly pointing it out. But we had poured a whole bottle of yellow sports drink down the pull-ups before getting settled in the car. If anything, it was all that extra liquid that was weighing them down. Or maybe it was just easier telling myself that, since I didn’t want to believe that my own mess was the culprit. Oh no. I was supposed to have a nonstop good attitude. It was one thing when talking about trying on new outfits, but this? No girl ever, nineteen or twelve, would have an upbeat demeanor about something so awful. Except me, apparently. “It’s fine!” Stepping out of my skirt with a hesitant grin, I said, “It was just a little accident. Nothing a shower can’t fix!” Take the hint, sis. If she hadn’t made the point earlier about the pull-ups being tricky to dispose of without being caught, I would be running the water right now so I could jump in. My salvation was so close, and yet so far. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I should make a pass with some wet wipes first. I have a bunch of babysitting experience, remember? And you might miss a spot without my help.” Was that actually what she had in mind? No way. Letting her see me undressed like this was bad enough; the last thing I needed was my smug sister getting the chance to witness me in an even worse state. “It’s fine, really!” Leaning harder into the immature roleplay in an attempt to appease her, I let out an obnoxiously girly giggle compared to the previous one. “Like, I have accidents, like, all the time! Don’t worry, I know how to clean myself up.” “All the time?” Kate echoed, “Is that why you packed all those pull-ups?” “Mm hmm,” I nodded, “Just in case.” The way her face lit up was not a good sign. Anything that was fun and exciting for Kate was rarely those things for me. “Well, you should probably wear them for the rest of the weekend, then. Like, 24/7, until I can trust that you’re potty trained.” ------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "The Road Trip" (85+ parts) and other stories on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia

Then there is MY GIRL WANTS TO POTTY ALL TH TIME

Another Japanese nappy company is stopping manufacturing infant nappies and only making adult nappies going forward. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-68672186.amp

I'm going to over a different perspective and one that some people may not really like. What you described above to me is a big issue. Whether or not your partner has actively gone out an played with other people or not what he has done and is doing is emotional cheating. He is seeking to fulfill an emotional need behind your back and doing so by hiding things and lying. Diaper boys is quite literally primarily a hook up site and so the fact he is actively on it, with his profile set and written to meet people I think is very telling. Actions do speak louder than words. I understand when people say it's tough to be open or come out about thus but he didn't seem to have any issue doing it with other people. He also isn't just posting messages, he is posting images AND videos. Honestly, it sounds very much like he either has given in to his urges and played with others or he will do so in the future. Only you can decide what you are comfortable with but I know for me this kind if deception and breach of trust would be a massive issue.

That's a shame CD. Your concept has let lots of people develop their own stent safely. I have had a tiny spot of blood once, when my bladder was a little filled and I must have been pushing against clenched sphincters. And that freaked me out. Probably just a little scratch of the urethral lining. But what spargano shows looks truly awful. No one should play with stents till they have had plenty of experience with catheters. You've got to know what pushing through the sphincters feels like, how much to push, how to relax and not to be freaked out by the insertion and clench. There shouldn't be any pain. There should be a little resistance and then a weird, almost pleasant feel as the stent/catheter pushes through the sphincter, then again through the bladder neck.

Diss way - happy to chat…

Well... I made one of my infrequent trash runs this morning on my way to work. One of the workers just had to come over to have a look at my car (it is a quite an automotive unicorn) while I'm there tossing my heavy bags full of used diapers into the hopper. Not quite the situation you want to be hosting a 1-car car show. 🙄

These jobs are the most important of all.

Growing up a regular bed-wetter you’d think that would have been enough. It wasn’t. Additionally I purposely wet my underwear, pants, pajamas, etc. whenever I thought I'd get away with it. The compulsion was overpowering, I couldn’t stop.

I’m reading this topic with interest. My first ever diapers arrived yesterday. I put one on straight away and I absolutely love them. Everything I hoped it would be. The feel of them is amazing. I’m not sure where my journey is going to lead but the idea of wearing them 24/7 is really appealing to me, but this is still very early days. I have struggled to pee in them a little it just seems so counterintuitive, especially when led in bed. I’m sat in work now and feel empty without them on already after only one day!! I’m not sure if that is just the initial excitement or whether this is something that is really going to develop into a full time lift style. It just feels so right! I do worry that once the seal is broken and wetting myself feels natural whilst walking round the house and lying in bed that I’ll lose control and become incontinent, but at the same time I’m excited about it.

I was bored today with the bad weather in my area, so I decided to go ahead and write chapter 2. Thanks again Sofia for the tip on using Google Docs and Grammarly. It helped a lot on this chapter. I edited chapter one and the format should look a lot better. I am still looking at a slow burn on the diaper content, but after this chapter, there will be plenty of medical drama for the next 5 to 10 chapters. I say 5 to 10 chapters because I am not sure how detailed I want to go with this and I am trying my best not want to jump ahead to Will in diapers and the many surprises when that happens. Chapter Two I wake up to the alarm on my phone going off. My body and head is still aching. I reach over and turn my phone alarm off and turn back over to go back to sleep. Waking up again, I roll over and look at my phone to see that it is 9:34 am. With my joints and head still hurting, I gingerly get out of bed. Slipping my phone into my sweatpants pocket and grabbing the empty glass off my nightstand, I slowly make my way to the kitchen to refill my glass in the sink. Reaching into the cabinet above my sink, I get out a bottle of Tylenol. Taking two pills out of the bottle, I knock them back with a sip of water. Hoping that the pills take care of my aches and pains, I down the rest of the glass of water. I make my way to my couch and lay down with the remote in hand. Turning on the TV, I go to my Hulu account to watch reruns of Always Sunny. Hopefully, the antics of Dennis, Frank, Charlie, Dee, and Mac will put me in a better mood. As I am about halfway through the first episode of the gang trying to solve gun control, I start to get nauseous and sleepy. Before the episode could even finish, I fell asleep. My eyes shoot open, I bolt from the couch to the bathroom and fall to my knees in front of the toilet just in time to vomit a mixture of bile, water, and the two half-digested Tylenol pills. After wiping my mouth with toilet paper and flushing the toilet, I use the vanity counter to pull myself from my knees to my feet. I rinse my mouth out and wash my hands. Before I could make it back to the couch, I got the overwhelming need to poop. I turn on my heels and make a B-line for the toilet. With my butt cheeks clenched, I yank my pants down in front of the toilet and slam my rear end on the seat. With only a few moments to spare, a packed colon's worth of mud came out of me. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I decided that my bowels must be empty. I wipe, flush, then wash my hands, and make my way back to the couch. Sitting on the couch, I pull my phone out of my pocket to see what time it is. Looking at my phone I see that it is a little past noon and think to myself, ‘Crap, I was supposed to meet up with Steven after classes today to work on homework.’ Opening up my messenger app, I pull up the text conversation with Steven. I texted, “Hey man, I think I have a stomach virus or something. I did not go to class today and will not be able to meet up to work on homework. I have been talking on the big white phone most of last night and today.” I set my phone on the coffee table and lay back down on the couch. The TV is still playing episodes of Always Sunny, granted I slept through the last few episodes. I hear my phone ding and see the screen light up on the coffee table. Grabbing my phone, I see that it is a text from Steven. “No worries man, get better soon.” Setting my phone down, my eyes turn back to the TV, but my mind starts thinking about what I need to do tomorrow. I realize, that even if I feel better by tomorrow morning, it is probably best that I stay home for another day. I am scheduled to run the tutoring center tomorrow morning from 9 am to 10:45 am. I also have a calculus recitation class to teach from 11 am to 12:15 pm. Luckily, I am giving a quiz that will take up the last 45 minutes of class. It would probably be best if I go ahead and email Professor Martin Lau, the instructor of the main lecture classes so that the department could get someone to fill in for me. I get up and walk over to my desk where my backpack is leaning against one of the filing cabinets. Unzipping the compartment that holds my laptop, I pull it out and walk back over to sit on my couch. Opening up my laptop, I wait a moment for it to boot up. When the screen cuts on, I am greeted with my home screen asking for my PIN to log in. After entering my 4-digit PIN, I open up my browser to login to my university email account. Composing a new email, I enter Professor Lau’s email address and I also decide to cc Amy, the department admin on this email too, just in case. I flagged the email as urgent with the subject line being tomorrow's class and the tutoring center. In the body of the email I wrote: “Professor Lau, It seems that I have come down with a stomach virus and will not be able to work tomorrow at the tutoring center at my scheduled time. I also will not be able to teach my recitation class tomorrow at 11 am. I have planned for the first 30 minutes of class to be where students could ask questions about the current homework assignment and if they did not have any questions, I was going to review integration-by-parts during that time. For the last 45 minutes, I have a quiz for them to take that is on the previous two weeks of material. I have attached both the pdf and tex versions of the quiz to this email. -Will” After I attached the quiz files to the email, I hit send, closed my laptop, and set it on the coffee table by my phone. With my body and head still aching, I lay back down on the couch and continued to watch TV. Within 30 minutes, I fell back to sleep. I wake to my phone ringing on the coffee table. Picking up the phone, I see that it is my mom calling and that it is 5 pm. Realizing that today is Wednesday and my mom always calls me around dinner time in her time zone of Georgia on Wednesday. I answered the phone with a groggy, “Hey Mom.” In a cheery voice, she said, “ Hey Will, just calling to see how your week has been going?” I responded with, “It was going well until late last night, I have been throwing up, and my joints and head have hurt since then.” With concern in her voice, “Was it something you ate? How much fluids have you been drinking? Have you eaten anything today? What are you doing about school?” With the rapid fire of questions, I collected my thoughts and answered, “I don’t think it was something I ate. I ate a pot roast last night that I have cooked countless times with no problems. I only had one glass of water today, and I ended up vomiting later on with the Tylenol that I took. I have not eaten anything today and I have sent an email out and should be covered for tomorrow.” After answering all her questions, I hear silence on the line. After a few moments, my mom responded, “Honey, this is not good, not being able to keep down water is not good. You need to see a doctor as soon as possible. And don’t make me fly there and take you myself.” With a groan at the mention of doctors, I said, “If I don’t feel better by tomorrow morning or if I get worse, I will go to the ER.” With a slightly better tone in her voice, she said, “Please do, and try to eat something gentle on your stomach tonight with some water. Please let me know if anything changes and if you need me. Your father and I will be on the next flight out there if you need us.” “Thanks mom, I will try and eat something tonight.” My mom then said, “Call me tomorrow regardless if you feel better just to let me know that you are OK. And if anything comes up you can call me or your father, even if it is in the middle of the night.” Feeling grateful for my parents, I said, “Thanks, mom. I will talk to you tomorrow. I love you.” She responded back, “I love you too Will, remember to call me tomorrow.” Hanging up my phone, I look at the screen and see an email notification from Professor Lau. Opening up the email, I see it reads, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, we will have everything covered. Get some rest and I hope you feel better soon.” With everything taken care of tomorrow, I let out a breath of relief. I turn my attention back to the TV. and let my mind wander as I veg out to more Always Sunny. As I notice that it is starting to get dark outside, I get up and move to my kitchen to make good on my word that I would try and eat something tonight. Opening up my pantry cabinet, I began looking for something that would be light on my stomach. After looking for a few minutes, I decided on instant grits. Taking a packet out of the box and grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet, I pour the contents of the packet into the bowl. With my stomach the way it is, I use half a cup of water to mix with the grits instead of milk like I usually do. After stirring the grits and water together with a spoon, I place it in the microwave for one minute to heat up. Grabbing a clean glass from the cabinet I fill it up with water from the sink. After the microwave beeps, I take the bowl of grits out and stir it with the spoon. Taking the bowl of grits and a glass of water, I make it back to the couch. Sitting on the couch, I slowly eat the bowl of grits and sip on the glass of water. After a few minutes, all the grits are gone, along with half the glass of water. Laying back down, I continue to watch TV as my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep. I wake up and it is still dark outside. I am met with the intense need to both poop and throw up. I make a mad dash to the bathroom and launch my butt onto the toilet seat. An eruption from my bowels comes out and a moment later I am leaning over to projectile vomit into the bathtub. After dry heaving for a few minutes, I sit back up and try to catch my breath. Both my head and joints are throbbing and it takes me a few minutes to get the energy to wipe both my face and bottom with toilet paper. I slowly get up and lean over the vanity to wash my hands, rinse out my mouth, and brush my teeth. Without even thinking, I slowly make my way to my bed and collapse on top of my blanket and sheets. Moments after my head hits the pillow, I pass out. I wake up to it being light outside, my head and joints are still throbbing. Using almost all of my energy, I get out of bed and make it to the couch to look at my phone that was sitting on the coffee table from the previous night. Looking at the screen, I see that it is 8:12 am. At that moment, I reluctantly decided that I needed to go to the ER. I pull up maps and look for the closest hospital. The results show that St. Luke’s is only 4 miles away. Looking down I notice that I have been wearing the same sweats since the night before and I have not taken a shower since the morning before all this started. I get up with my phone in hand and walk into my bedroom to put it on charge. Walking into the bathroom, I turn on the water to the shower and strip my clothes off. Checking to see if the water is warm enough, I step under the water and lean against the wall of the shower. I stand under the water for a few minutes, letting the warm water run down my head and body. With some determination, I take some shampoo and quickly wash my hair and some body wash and wash my armpits, crotch, and butt. After rinsing off, I grab a towel off of the towel rack beside the shower and dry off. Stepping out of the shower with the towel around my waist, I step in front of the vanity. Taking a comb, I begin to comb my hair. As I combed my hair, I noticed something odd. I have always been able to grow a thick full beard since I was in my early twenties, but looking at my face, it looks like my beard is thinning. I also noticed that I have dark bags under my eyes. Shaking that thought from my mind, I walk into my bedroom to get dressed. Opening up my dresser, I take out another set of sweats, an old surf shop tee shirt, and a pair of boxer briefs. I slowly get dressed, trying my best not to fall over in the process due to how weak and tired I feel. I have to tie the drawstrings as tight as possible, taking note that I definitely lost some weight over the past 48 hours. I take an extra set of clothes from out of my dresser, my phone, and my charger, and walk into my living room area. I grab my backpack by my desk and empty all of its contents to pack for my hopefully short trip to the ER. I repack the bag with my laptop and charger, my extra set of clothes, and my phone charger. I slip on my shoes and sling my backpack over my shoulder. As I am putting my phone, keys, and wallet into my sweatpants pockets, I notice that my pant legs seem to bunch up around my shoes more than usual. I open the front door to my apartment and walk out into the blinding sun. Turning around, I close the door and lock it. I make my way down the catwalk to the stairwell. I take my time walking down the stairs, with one hand firmly on the railing. There is a slight fear that I may fall due to my current condition. Making my way across the parking lot to my SUV, I unlock my 4-runner with the key fob. Opening up the driver-side door, I toss my backpack onto the front passenger seat. Sitting down in the driver seat, I close my door and start up my car. Taking out my phone, I look up the directions to the parking garage next to St. Luke’s ER. With the drive being only 6 minutes, I back out of my parking spot and start my short drive. As I am pulling out of the parking lot, I think to myself that this day is going to suck.

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-Five: Family Emergency On Friday, when Katie went to her room to gather up her paraphernalia for the trip to Daddie’s, she discovered a Reminisce magazine on her bed. About fifteen minutes later, her homework, laundry, and car activities bag were sitting on her bed. Taking the ‘Matilda’ library book she checked out this week, she got comfortable in the cluster. She was basically alone today, Tiff had thankfully decided to eat lunch instead of babysitting her. When Adam arrived, he saw a seven-year-old girl looking back at her. Ally had got her ready to go this morning. The clothes the little girl was wearing were not especially young looking, but they were definitely a girl's clothes. Yep, the pink Disney Princess sweatshirt, jeans, and light-up shoes were not over-the-top girly, but she looked right. The regressed girl’s hair was curled in ringlets with a pink bow. When she stood up to greet him, there also was a faint crinkle when she walked towards him. After Katie hugged her Daddie, he patted her bottom, checking her dryness. He leads her towards her room to change her. Soon, the dry girl and her daddie walked out of the cluster towards the waiting car. Strapped into her car seat, she grabbed her Magazine from the activity bag. She opened the Reminisce magazine and snuggled down for the ride. They hadn't been on the road long when Daddie opened her door to get her out of the car. The regressed girl didn’t remember leaving the college, let alone arriving at Cracker Barrel. After a Children’s portion of shrimp, Daddie and her were looking at the store area. He soon was answering his ringing phone, “Hello? ... Sara, shouldn’t you be teaching in your classroom right now? ... You want me to pick up Stacy from school and watch her this weekend while you run to your folks? ... Is Sam busy or coming with you? ... Katie has two appointments tomorrow. ... Why don’t I text you the details if Stacy is going to join her there? ... No problem. Have a safe trip to Virginia. See you two Sunday.” After Daddie hung up the phone, he started typing feverishly on it. While he was typing, he led Katie toward the payment area. After a long text conversation and paying, they went back towards the car. He helped her into her chair, strapping her in the harness afterward. His adoptive daughter watched him go to the back with confusion. She strained to watch him but found it hard to do that. Soon, Daddie was across the seat from her, opening the other backseat door. Daddie was putting the booster seat next to Katie. “I am glad I keep this in the car, Princess. We have to go pick your best friend from school.” About an hour later, Daddie was pulling next to some other waiting cars in the school parking lot. He turned around and told his daughter, “Princess, we have fifteen to thirty minutes to kill. It just wasn’t worth my while to go home and come back. You have plenty of stuff next to you to keep you occupied.” About fifteen minutes later Katie heard a bell going off in the school. Soon, kids started pouring out of the school. Daddie, who had gotten out of the car, went to meet her twin, who was looking confused. He put her backpack in the back before helping her into the booster seat. “Stacy, your parents had to go take care of your grandparents. They will be back Sunday,” Daddie told his adoptive niece. “That is what the teacher said. She said my Uncle was picking me up. The problem was she didn’t say which Uncle.” Stacy mentioned. She turned and looked at her best friend, “This Uncle is better than the one I assumed because of who is sitting next to me. Hello Bestie!” Katie smiled and put her book down. She said as Daddie drove away from the school, “Hello, Bestie!” “Uncle, where is the other car seat? I was hoping to sit in that, not the booster.” “We came directly from Mountain, I don’t keep the second one in here. If you really want to sit in it, I will put it in the car while you two do homework.” After his niece thanked him, he asked, “Why do you want to sit in the car seat so strongly?” “I like to be treated like Katie.” Stacy pointed out as they turned into the driveway. That last statement caused a vast amount of reactions in the car. Katie smirked and bit her tongue so as not to say anything that would get her in trouble. On the other hand, Daddie was coughing up a storm in the front seat. He was happy that he had to wait for the garage door to open. Finally, Stacy was looking confused at both of their reactions. “Stacy, I don’t mind you sitting in the car seat. I, on the other hand, will not treat you like Katie. I will treat you both like seven-year-olds, but some stuff I do to Katie I don’t have permission to do to you. I will also never ask your parent's permission to do the items either.” Daddie told his niece as he helped her out of the car. Stacy questioned as they walked towards Katie’s door, “Like the diapers and high chair?” “That and other items, Sweetie,” He said, helping his daughter out of the car. He continued, “I want both of you to locate yourselves at the table after removing your shoes in the mudroom. I will bring your backpacks to you to do homework.” He patted Katie on the bottom as she walked past with her best friend. The girls got to the kitchen table only to discover it was piled high with various bags. Katie roared, “Daddie! The table is buried under a mountain of stuff.” Daddie was soon walking into the room and started, “What do you mean … Sara!” As he looked at the bags, he mumbled to no one in particular, “Sara, you outdid yourself. I don’t know what strings you pulled in just over ninety minutes, but you did!” He continued to the girls, “You two have a seat, and I will put these bags away. While he was putting the bags away, Katie tried to figure out what was in them. One was obviously Stacy’s overnight bag. The rest looked like a large number of dress bags. There was no way Stacy could wear that many dresses on a weekend. She remembered Daddie saying something about two appointments tomorrow. Did they have something to do with one or both of those? He soon was handing Katie her princess backpack. Turning to Stacy, he gave her Unicorn backpack. As he walked towards the mudroom to deal with his daughter's dirty laundry, Katie asked her friend. “I thought you took the school bus home?” “That time you saw me was a rarity. Mommie usually picks me up.” Stacy answered. Daddie yelled, “That doesn’t sound like homework being done!” The two girls just blushed and got their homework out quietly. ~o~O~o~ “Daddie, we are both done. Oh, if you will check the printer, you will find my midterm grades there.” Katie said as he walked by. He told them, “Excellent, you two are excused, and you can play either outside or in Katie’s room until we go for dinner.” The girls headed out back to the trampoline, which was set into the ground. They had been bouncing around and giggling up a storm for about an hour when Daddie said from the back door, “Girls, it is time to go eat. You think with all that energy you could have raked some these leaves.” Katie just stuck her tongue out at his turned-back while walking with Stacy to the house. Daddie directed Katie to a changing pad to deal with her bottom. Once that was done, the blended family headed to the car. At the pizza restaurant, Daddie let both girls out of their car seats. Once they sat down, they ran to play games while he ordered the food. He said to the girls when the food arrived, “Food is here.” The two girls were too distracted by the games to hear him, causing him to have to tell them again. After the third time, he called them, and he actually walked up to them. “Kathleen Annabelle, Anastasia Marie, your food is getting cold.” He told them in a pissed tone. Katie visibly eeped, because the last time she remembered him, that upset three people ended up in the corner. She whispered to her best friend that they had better sit down and not make him upset anymore. When the food was done, Daddie told them, “No more games for you girls. You two ignored me and were naughty. We are going directly home.” “Ok, Uncle” and “Ok Daddie” were meekly replied to him. Once back in the house, the two girls didn’t get far in the house before he told them, “It took me three times to get your attention at the restaurant. Stacy, you can place your nose in a corner in the Dining Room. Katie Ann, please do the same in the parlour. I don’t want to hear any talking between you two.” What seemed like ten minutes later, he released the two girls and sent them upstairs to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Abena Pants Level 3 are the only pull-ups I trust for real protection https://amzn.to/3x7jDj3

I hope Darlene’s sisters advise her to talk to legal counsel, sure seems like she is being setup to be the fall guy for John’s bad behavior.

Thanks for the comment. I wish more people would take the time, because it's interacting with readers that makes the writing experience on this site so enjoyable. Tippi's role in this saga is going to get larger as we move along, with a serious (and hopefully unanticipated) twist in scene 9 of AARDVARK.

Chapter 9 - Measurement I stirred around uncomfortably, feeling something pulling me out of the sweet solace of sleep. Confused, I realized I was lying in a bed, but I couldn't remember how I had gotten there. Something was poking my back, and I reached under me to pull out the mysterious object. Holding it up in front of me, dimly illuminated by the light of the night sky and the city below through the window, I saw it was my pacifier. John had given it to me when I was getting tired yesterday on the couch. I didn't mind using it when John told me to, but it wasn't like I needed it, so I put it aside. As I collected my bearings, looking around the dimly lit toddler's bedroom, I realized that the pacifier pressing into my back wasn't the source of my discomfort. My bladder was demanding my attention, and it was urgent. I was about to climb over the railings when the snug padding between my legs reminded me of my situation, and I sat back down with a sigh. John expected me to use the diaper, and I had promised him I would. I subconsciously grabbed my plush star and held it tight for moral support as I took a deep breath and followed John's instructions. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine sitting on a toilet and relaxing, but nothing happened. I was getting desperate, squirming in bed. The last two times, I had been sitting upright on the toilet or a chair, making it easy to imagine using the toilet. But trying to do the same when sitting snuggled up in a comfortable bed was more difficult. I tried again, but this time I also tried to push a little, and a little spurt actually escaped. Startled by it, I clenched immediately, stopping the leak. This felt wrong. The other times, John had told me to do it directly, but here in bed, it felt like I was trying to wet my bed on purpose, a thought I had a hard time coming to terms with. But my bladder reminded me that I was out of options, so I did it again, but this time I didn’t stop the flow. I felt my diaper slowly growing warmer, a little pool forming at the seat of it, but it got absorbed almost as quickly as it appeared. I sighed in relief and embraced the warmth. Not having to leave the warm comfort of my bed in the middle of the night was an upside I hadn't considered. I furrowed my brows and shook my head. I shouldn't be enjoying something like this. With a heavy sigh and confusing emotions, I rested my head back on the pillow. Still cuddling up to my plushie, I watched the stars through the window. It was still the middle of the night. Without being able to dwell too much on my situation, sleep quickly engulfed me again, with just one thought remaining in my head: What is happening to me? "Wake up, sleepyhead," John's voice echoed through the void of my mind. It felt like I had barely closed my eyes before John entered my room and woke me up. I stretched and yawned before opening my eyes, the sun was already rising and shining right on me. This wasn't a good spot for sleeping in, I figured. "How did you sleep?" he asked, standing right over me now, making me feel small. "Weird," I replied, feeling the soggy diaper between my legs, something I hadn't gotten used to yet. "How can you sleep weirdly?" he asked amusingly with a raised eyebrow, and I furrowed my eyebrows in response. "I woke up and had to pee," I said matter-of-factly, but he just smiled in response, making me blush. "And? What did you do?" he pressed. I didn't like that he wanted me to say it out loud. "I used my diaper. It was weird," I said, averting my eyes in embarrassment. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. My eyes went wide, this was new. "I'm proud of you, baby," he said, "I'll change you after breakfast. We got a long day ahead of us." And with that, he grabbed me under my arms and picked me up, holding me like a baby. This was new too. It was like I didn't weigh anything to him. He had carried me before, but both times I had been asleep. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, hiding my face in his shoulder so he wouldn't see my blush. I wasn't used to this much physical affection. Being carried through the living room into the kitchen, I realized I was wearing a way too oversized nightgown, but I had no recollection of changing into it. I sighed and figured I must've really been out of it yesterday. Arriving in the kitchen, I noticed that Marge wasn't there today, and judging by the breakfast that was already served, I figured that John had made it. For John, there were a few slices of toast and a cup of coffee, and for me, there was a childish bowl of cereal and a sippy cup with orange juice. While we were eating, I suddenly remembered something that had completely slipped my mind in the turmoil of the last days. "John," I began speaking, but his furrowed eyebrow made me quickly correct myself. "I mean, Daddy," his eyes softened. "There's something I need to take care of until Monday," I said, gauging his reaction. "What is it?" he asked nonchalantly, seemingly ignoring my slip-up. "I have all my stuff in a storage unit down a few blocks. I could only afford to rent it for a week. I need to extend it or something." He seemed to think for a second before responding. "Hmmm... We're already busy today. I'll have someone take care of it." And with that, he didn't elaborate further, but my curiosity was piqued. "What are we doing today?" I asked, but he just shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it, you'll see." I furrowed my eyebrows, not being in the know about what was going to happen was kinda getting on my nerves. He raised his eyebrow at that, but didn't press me on the matter. As we finished our breakfast, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety about the day's plans. I knew I could trust John to take care of things, but I also wanted to be involved in the decision-making process. I couldn't help but ask one more time, "Daddy, what are we doing today?" He smiled at me and said, "You'll see, it's a surprise. Just trust me, okay?" Reluctantly, I agreed, and with a huff I followed behind him back to my bedroom. John sifted through the wardrobe for a few minutes, seemingly looking for something. My eyes inspected every piece of clothing he grabbed from it. They all looked to be oversized, but style-wise, they ranged from looking like baby clothes to dresses a 6-year-old would wear. He shook his head and sighed for every single one of them and discarded them on the ground, leaving just a few pairs of socks, tights, and the dress I wore yesterday behind. Standing nervously next to him, my anxiety grew with every piece thrown onto the pile. As I put the puzzle pieces in my mind together, the furnished nursery-like bedroom, all the oversized children's clothes, Marge commenting about having seen plenty of potty-faces, it all suddenly clicked into place. There had been other women before me doing the same thing for John. My eyes grew wide at the realization, and a shiver ran down my spine. Had he paid them too? Why did they leave? What happened to them? Why didn’t I realize sooner? Insecurity washed over me. Am I not going to be good enough? Is he going to get rid of me before the month's up? Will he hold up his part of the contract? John pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts with a deep sigh. "I guess we'll have to get a whole new wardrobe for you. You won't fit into any of these." He said and turned to look at me, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw my expression. "Feli, are you okay? You look pale," he said, concern evident in his voice. "I- I- I'm fine," I stammered, averting my gaze. John didn't need to know about my worries. It's going to be okay as long as I'm getting paid. But as I stood there, I couldn't help but wonder if I was making a mistake. I should have been more cautious before signing the contract. I should have asked more questions. But now, it was too late to turn back. John noticed my distant gaze and reached out to touch my cheek gently. "Feli, you can talk to me about anything," he said softly. "I'm here for you, and I'll support you." I looked into his eyes and saw genuine concern. Maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe everything will be fine. I took a deep breath and tried to push my doubts away. "I'll be fine, don't worry about it," I said with a bit more confidence this time, and John nodded, accepting my answer this time, although I knew he didn't actually believe it. "Alright, let's get you ready for the day then." And with that, he lifted me up again, startling me, but he quickly put me down on the changing table. I hid my face with my hands in embarrassment, as he quickly got rid of my soaked nighttime diaper and wiped me off. He did it so quickly that I didn't even have a chance to protest. "Do you need to go potty?" he asked, the nightgown hiked up over my belly button, my lower body exposed to the world. I nodded shamefully; I always had to go number 2 in the morning. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized that I hadn't even thought about it at all. But before I even had a chance to think about the implications of having to mess in a diaper, he picked me up again and set me back on the ground. "Hurry up then," he said and I looked at him puzzled. He got the hint and patted me on my back before explaining himself. "Go and use the toilet, I'll wait here." I blushed in response but nodded. Thankful for the opportunity, I hurried towards the bathroom in just my nightgown. "Good," he said and kissed my forehead, which made me blush even more, before picking out yesterday's dress and pulling it over me. He put on a new pair of white tights on me and then picked me up. "Chuck is already waiting for us downstairs." He picked up a bag from the changing table, which I hadn’t even noticed before, threw it over his shoulder and carried me through the penthouse. "What about my shoes?" I asked, as he opened the front door to leave. "You need new ones anyway, so I'll just carry you for now," he replied nonchalantly and a knot formed in my stomach. John is going to carry me out in public while I'm dressed like this? This worried me, but I decided not to dwell on it, so I rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me into the elevator. Chuck did indeed wait for us in the underground garage, and John buckled me before taking a seat beside me. "Good morning, Mr. Harrington," Chuck greeted John before he looked at me through the rearview mirror with a nod and a wink, "Miss Feli." My eyes went wide when I heard him call me ‘Miss Feli’ and I looked at John for answers, but he just chuckled. Though after a few seconds he was kind enough to not leave me in the dark about this. "Chuck is Marge's husband, they've both been working for me for years." My lips formed a silent ‘Oh’ at the revelation. That certainly explained it. "Where are we heading?" Chuck asked John as he was leaving the garage onto the bustling streets of New York City on a Saturday morning. "First, I want to make a stop at Claire's to get Feli's measurements,” John thought for a second before continuing, “then afterwards we need to head to Little's Delight." "Very well, Sir." As we drove through the city, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. I was learning more about my new life and the people involved in it, but there were still so many questions left unanswered. As we arrived at Claire's, a small boutique that seemed to specialize in tailored high-end fashion, I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. I had never been shopping for clothes like this before, and I was worried about being seen in public in my current outfit. The pull-up under my dress also didn’t help with that. John carried me inside the boutique, but there was nobody around. However, the chime of the door was enough to cause attention, as we heard someone yell from a backroom. "I'm in the back, I'll be right out." The mysterious woman's voice said, but John apparently didn't care as he carried me straight towards where the voice was coming from. "Oh, John, what a pleasure," a tall, beautiful woman greeted us as we entered some kind of workshop, looking up from a sewing machine. "Who is this beautiful girl you got there?" she asked, her eyes fixed on me with curiosity, as she got up and approached us. I blushed crimson. Something about being in John's arms and being talked to like that suddenly made me super shy. "This is Feli," John chuckled, "I want you to get her measurements, all the clothes I had are too big on her." The woman was still only looking at me, eyeing me very closely, scanning every feature of my body. "Ah, I see," the woman replied with a warm smile, "I'm Claire. Nice to meet you, Feli." She stared at me for a few more seconds before she turned her attention back to John. "Why don't you two have a seat? I'll get us some drinks and then you can tell me everything." She gestured with her hands expressively, drawing attention to the fact that John was still carrying me. John just chuckled at that. "I'll take you up on the drinks, but we don't have all day. I can explain everything some other time." "Of course, of course. I'll be right back, make yourself at home." And with that, she disappeared through a door. John sat me down on a couch and crouched down in front of me searching my gaze, his eyes unexpectedly filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper. I was in fact not exactly okay, but why was he suddenly so concerned? "How much, um, does she know?" I asked timidly, searching his eyes for any hint on what's actually going on here. However, he averted his eyes and scratched his head. There was something he wasn't telling me. "Well... I didn't exactly tell her anything about you... but..." he began, but got interrupted by Claire returning with our drinks. She had a cup of coffee for John and a sippy cup for me. I gulped and my eyes went wide. That pretty much answered my question. Claire stopped right in her tracks as she saw my reaction. "Oh I’m sorry, was this wrong? I assumed..." she apologized immediately, but this time John cut her off. "No, your assumption was correct. Once again..." he trailed off the last bit. I felt like these two had quite the past together. "Good, good. I hope you like apple juice then, Feli," Claire said and handed me a sippy cup. I thanked her and took a sip. "So does that mean the designs you messaged me about yesterday are for her then?" Claire asked John with a raised eyebrow, excitement evident in her eyes. "Yes, they're for her, but she wasn't supposed to know about it yet," John replied. It felt weird how they were just talking about me like I wasn't there, but my curiosity piqued at that. "What designs?" I asked instinctively, however instead of answering me, John pulled my pacifier from his pocket and pushed it between my lips with a stern look. I pouted at that, but I understood the message, while Claire just chuckled at the show we were giving her. I scanned the room silently while they did some small talk. There were mostly extravagant dresses or expensive-looking suits in this shop. With my current role in this arrangement, I wondered what designs he asked her about. I figured it had to be some kind of oversized children's party dress like the one I was wearing. Though, not leaving me with much time to ponder about potential dresses I would enjoy, they both soon turned their attention back to me. "Well, Feli, let's get your measurements then, shall we?" Claire exclaimed, but before I could even respond, she already grabbed my hand and led me over to some kind of stool to stand on. "I need you to take off your dress real quick so I can accurately measure you." she said as I stood there. I looked at John for help, anxiety rising inside me at the prospect of her seeing my pull-up, but John just nodded reassuringly. Shortly after, I stood in the backroom with a bare chest and my pull-up faintly visible under my white tights. I blushed crimson as Claire once again scanned my whole body, her eyes stopping at my crotch for a second. A slight smile tucking at the corners of her lips was her only reaction to that, however, before she grabbed her measuring tape and expertly measured every inch of my body. Unfortunately her professionalism didn't really help curbing my embarrassment. Once I had been dressed, John already picked me up again and we said goodbye to Claire. The drive to our next destination wasn't that long, but when the car stopped in front of the playfully decorated storefront, there was a pressing matter on my mind. "Daddy," I began nervously while we were still in the car, my face flushed red, "I need a change."

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

Often they are drawing something outside of their comfort zone so they charge as a way if compensating for that discomfort. As an artist they don't have to draw what they don't want, they don't owe anyone anything. Again, babyfur art is a luxury, if people don't like the price then don't pay it. I have a hard time classifying the examples as gouging because it implies some form of right to access which isn't how luxuries work.

Here's mine

May want to add littlelandstories.com. They have archives of abdlstories.club, adultbaby.co.uk, bedwettingabdl.homestead.com. The new stories are kinda dead, well I moved my stuff there but outside of me there hasn't been any new content.

I would say I’m authentic as can be lol. I’ve been in diapers 24/7 for about 6 years. and decided in 2020, that I was going to start being a full time baby. i own NO underwear, or adult clothes. I dress in either clothing made for AB’s, or little boys clothing (I’m only 5’5” and 110lbs 🙈) I dress like this no matter where I go, and I LOVE living my life like a 2 year old baby boy! ☺️🚼🍼

BabySofia - Thank you for the update and background detail - was not aware of the physical attack to the person Danni (wishing speedy recovery) and also the threat/attack on ones liberty of speech be it by voice print or forum.

OMG - what an exagaration here to read. Makes me really angry. For sure I will not walk into an enclosed environment without any protection and expose everyone to the content of my diaper. But also for sure will I continue to poop my diapers in public if I need to go. I will try to avoid crowded spaces and distance as good as possible - but I will not keep it inside my 4 walls. We need to tolerate everything within our great society today - no idea how much genders and so on - so I will enjoy my full diaper outside as I did in the past. Sorry PuraVidaDip.