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It's been a long time since I tried any creative writing but thought I would give it a go, appreciate any comments / feedback on what I have written so far. The ABDL part doesn't start to show itself until chapter 2. The image doesn't quite capture the story but I can't draw so was just trying to get something from an AI that somewhat fitted the story. Chapter 1 - Welcome to ARC As Michael surveyed his surroundings, he began to think this might not be such a nightmare after all. It had all started a month ago, on a rainy Saturday morning. A hungover Michael had been lying in bed going through his emails, he came across something entirely out of the ordinary. An email from ARC Education notified Michael that he failed to turn up for an exam five years ago while studying for his undergraduate degree. It went on to state that because of this, he did not have enough credits for his degree, which was now considered null and void, and that he should contact ARC Immediately. Michael's heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at the email. His hands trembled as he scrolled back and forth, rereading the message that threatened to unravel his entire life. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios: losing his job, facing humiliation, and being labeled a fraud. Each possibility felt like a crushing weight on his chest, suffocating him with dread. He paced back and forth in his dimly lit bedroom, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. He needed to talk to someone to make sense of this nightmare before it consumed him entirely. Luckily, Amanda picked up the phone on the second attempt. "Michael?" Amanda's voice crackled through the phone, bearing the remnants of a night that seemed to have treated her as unkindly as it had him. Michael rushed to unload the contents of the email to her, his words tumbling over each other in haste. But before he could finish, Amanda's voice sliced through the air with a sharpness that snapped him to attention. "Michael," she said firmly, "it seems like you may have had too much to drink last night and are mistaking a dream for reality. Rest, and we can discuss it again in a few hours." "It's not a dream," Michael insisted before Amanda could disconnect the call. "I'm forwarding you the email right now." Amanda fell into a thoughtful silence as she perused the email. When she finally spoke again, her tone had softened, laced now with concern. "This seems too coherent to be spam." Michael held his breath, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. "I don't recall you ever missing an exam," Amanda mused, her words slow and deliberate. "But considering we didn't share all the same classes and had a knack for skipping lectures, it's plausible." She paused and exhaled heavily. "Like I said before, it sounds like a bad dream, but maybe this does happen from time to time, and that's where people get the idea from," she said. Amanda paused again and then took a deep breath, her voice now confident. "But you would never have graduated if you had missed an exam, and the university would inform you directly if there were some kind of issue." All the anxiety seemed to lift from Michael as he heard these words: "So you're saying I can ignore this?" "Well," Amanda said, concern returning to her tone. “There wouldn't be any harm in getting in touch with the University to be sure; if there is anything to this, they would have had to be the ones to inform this other company." The dread returned to Michael, but Amanda's plan was sensible. He made her promise to keep this to herself before wishing her luck with her hangover and hanging up to call the University. Michael found the University's website, which he noted had changed dramatically since he had last seen it, and rang the examination office. Given that it was the weekend, he was surprised that someone picked up the phone, but after the third time being put on hold, his fears were confirmed. The examination office stated that while reviewing their records, they had come across a missing examination grade, and after an internal investigation, they had been forced to invalidate his grade. However, they decided to pass the situation on to ARC, a private research company that may be able to resolve the issue. Any lingering hangover Michael had was now well and truly gone. He only felt panic and wanted nothing more than to find a place to hide and forget this was happening. So it surprised Michael when he found he had typed in the number for ARC on his phone and hit the call button. ———— An hour later, Michaels mood couldn't have been more different from when he had first opened the email despite the fundamental situation remaining unchanged. The lady on the other end of the phone understood his situation. She had been quick to point out that it was the University's mistake as well, given that they had awarded him the degree. It was in everyone's interest to resolve the situation quickly and discreetly. She presented Michael with two options: the first was to spend a semester back at the University, retake the module, and then sit the exam he had missed with the other students. The second option was that ARC, a research organization, would use its resources to put him on a two-week sprint program to cover the material and exam at its expense in exchange for Michael's assistance with its research on memory. Option one wasn't an option at all for Michael. It would mean stepping away from his life and job, adding to his already immense student debt and the embarrassment of everyone knowing his situation. While the lady on the phone had recommended he take a few days to think about it, Michael accepted option two immediately. He knew he would have no issue getting the time off work; his boss had been encouraging everyone on the team to take a vacation while the office was quiet anyway. Most importantly, this meant that nobody would find out what had happened. Michael called Amanda back later in the day to tell her it had all been a scam and there was nothing to worry about, to which she was greatly relieved (clearly, she hadn't been able to convince herself that Michael hadn't been foolish enough to miss an exam). Over the next month, Michael had a few conversations with the lady from ARC. She explained that he would live at their state-of-the-art headquarters during the program, with all meals and amenities covered by the company. Then, after he had signed several confidentiality agreements, the nature of the research was also outlined to him, and it seemed genuinely exciting. So, as Michael stood in the ARC lobby, he was almost looking forward to the two weeks ahead. The lady from ARC (who it turned out was called Rachel) met him at reception, gave him his schedule for the next few days, and then took him on a tour of the facility. Monday Morning: Orientation Afternoon: ARC. Research Tuesday Morning: Lesson 1 Afternoon: ARC. Research Wednesday Morning: Lesson 2 Afternoon: Practise Assignment Chapter 2 - Memories? When Michael first heard Rachel's voice on the phone, he assumed she was much older than him due to her smooth, caring tone. She also exhibited a high level of intelligence that suggested she had been working in her research field for a lifetime. However, Michael couldn't have been more mistaken. Rachel was around the same age as him, dressed professionally in a black suit, with her long blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Rachel took Michael on a tour of the facility and he was amazed that not only did she know everyone by name, she was also just as knowledgeable about their research as her own. Her small ideas always brightened the mood of her colleagues, leaving them excited to try something new. The headquarters itself was unlike anything Michael had ever seen before. Rachel began by taking him to the room he would stay in, which was much bigger than his apartment. It featured a king-size bed, a huge TV, and a separate office for his studies. Following this, Rachel showed him around some of the workstations, where almost all the walls were made of glass panels, except for a few offices that senior management used for confidential meetings. This design made everything feel more light and open. All the computers looked brand new, with some workstations featuring VR headsets and access to supercomputers for complex processing. It was a lot to take in, but the best part was when Rachel led him into what she called the canteen. Canteen certainly wasn't the word Michael would use; the place was set out like a fancy restaurant, with a few of Rachel's colleagues already seated and eating anything from steak to Lobster. Michael was new to such high-quality food, so he ordered as much as he thought would be polite. Still, he couldn't help but think about returning later by himself to indulge in every dish the place had to offer. After treating himself to a second dessert, Michael was taken to the research area, his home, for the next few weeks. This room was simple and plain, unlike the glass-encased offices he had seen earlier. The walls were white, with little to no distractions, except for a large window that revealed a computer-filled room. The centre of the room had a solitary chair that reminded Michael of a dentists chair, with its frame entwined with cables that disappeared into the adjacent room through the window. Rachel led Michael towards the chair and began running through what they had already discussed on the phone. ARC had been working on state-of-the-art technology that allowed people to experience their memories as though they were happening to them again. She explained that it was similar to seeing a memory in a dream. They hoped that one day, anyone could relive any memory they wanted at the touch of a button, but there was much more research to do before they got to that stage. Because Michael couldn't remember missing an exam, he would also be a test case to see if they could locate missing memories in a person. This might mean that, eventually, the technology could help people with Amnesia. Rachel left the room after getting Michael seated and attaching some cables to his temples. She reappeared in the adjoining room dressed in a lab coat alongside another younger-looking colleague. "Michael, this is Luke. He is going to be helping me out for the next two weeks. It's his first day here, a bit like you I guess, so you will both be learning more about our research as we go along." Luke was younger than Michael and looked like he had just graduated from school. Having only spoken to Rachel about the research, Michael was a little uncomfortable with having someone else there. Then he then remembered the creme brûlée he had just eaten and realized a little discomfort was worth the price. "Well, we have a lot to cover, so let's get started," Rachel said. "Today, we'll mostly be calibrating the machine with you, Michael. If you could start by closing your eyes, we'll dim the lights and begin." Michael closed his eyes as the room darkened, and Rachel's voice returned to the room before he could think about what was to come. "To calibrate the machine, we need to give it a spectrum of your memories. We like to keep it simple, so first, let's try your most recent memory, and then we can try your oldest memory to see how they compare. "So, for your most recent memory, all I need you to do is picture yourself walking into the room with me and sitting in the chair." Michael was surprised at what Rachel had asked him to do. He knew nothing about how this would work but he had expected a lengthy induction process, potentially even hypnosis, to get him into a specific state of mind to experience his memories. He began to consider whether the research was anything more than a fantasy of Rachel's and not the miracle she had discussed. But he trusted Rachel and was there to do a job, so he decided to see what would happen if he thought of himself simply walking into the room. Immediately, there was a flash of blinding white light and a slight pinch coming from whatever had been attached to the side of his temples. When the light faded, Michael found himself being led back into the room by Rachel, just as he had done a few moments before. He was back viewing the world from his former self's perspective. He realized he couldn't control his limbs or even choose where to look. It was like he was a second version of himself watching the original version play out a scene. He could focus on certain parts of the memory, the way Rachel's hair moved as she led him towards the chair or the taste of dessert still lingering in his mouth. Part of him had expected to be able to freeze the memory in place if he focused hard enough, but events played out just as they had. As Michael looked to see Rachel and Luke enter the other room, the blinding white light returned. When it faded, Michael was back in the room. "Is that really how my hair looks from the back?" Rachel's said, sounding alarmed. "You can see that!" Michael exclaimed, turning to face Rachel and Luke, who were removing what looked like VR headsets and placing them on the table. 'Well, it's not quite as vivid for us as it is for you, but yeah, we can see what you see, and the computers even give us some readouts to indicate how you are feeling". "Can you look at all of my memories with that thing?" Michael asked, suddenly fearful of what they might be able to see. Rachel reassured him, "No, we can only see the memory you are focusing on at that time. And if you are worried about confidentiality, don't be. I signed the same confidentiality agreements as you did." Michael wasn't entirely reassured, but he started to think about everything this technology could do. He could live out the highlights of his life whenever he wanted, even revisit conversations with relatives who had passed away. On top of that, it wouldn't matter that he lived in a small apartment if he could relive the memory of himself lying on a beach in Thailand whenever he wanted. Rachel's voice once again brought Michael back from his thoughts. "Now Michael, that first one was simple, partly because it was so recent and partly because I was there so I recognized what was happening. If you remember, I said we need to calibrate the machine, so now we need to look at your first memory, which may be much more difficult. Can you describe your first real memory for me?" Michael started explaining a time when he was four and had fallen off a swing at the park. He had half expected to see the flash of white light and be there when Rachel began speaking. "If I am being honest, Michael, that sounds like what someone has told you happened rather than an actual memory of your own. Can you try to think of your first actual memory for me?" While he was annoyed at being told his memory wasn't his, he had to admit that he couldn't remember how it had felt to fall off the swing, and there had been a picture of him at the park at his parent's house growing up. He spent a few minutes racking his brain before saying, "Well, I am not sure it's the sort of thing you're looking for, but I have a small flash of a memory of being sat on the carpet at school while the teacher read a book to us, I was probably about seven." "That sounds perfect. Now, all you need to do is close your eyes and concentrate on what you remember, be it the feel of the carpet beneath you or the sound of your teacher's voice." Michael did as he was told, and after a few moments, there was a flash of light and a jolt at his temples. This time, when the light faded, Michael was genuinely amazed. He was inside a much smaller version of himself looking up at his teacher, Mrs Stone, a woman he hadn't thought about in nearly twenty years, yet there she was. She looked about the same age as Michael was now (yet the younger brain he was currently inhabiting thought of her as old), with her long, messy brown hair and oversized glasses. She was reading to the class, and Michael suddenly realized how safe he felt sitting there and the awe at the story. He wanted nothing more than to listen to what would happen to the brave mouse Mrs Stone was telling them about, but the adult Michael was also busy trying to take in the memory and his surroundings. He was sitting on an old grey carpet with his legs crossed, wearing his school uniform—a polo shirt and shorts—like all the other boys. The walls were decorated with brightly colored pieces of work that he and his classmates had worked so hard on. The room was filled with small tables and chairs that were made for someone of his size. At the back of the room, he could see his beloved backpack, which was a brilliant shade of blue with a giant dinosaur embossed on it. He felt a sense of pride wash over him at the sight of the backpack. The dinosaur on it was the biggest one he knew of, a T-Rex. Before he could take it all in, he was once again presented with the white flash and returned to the present, completely stunned by what he had seen. "Holy Shit," Michael exclaimed. "Did you see that? It was like I was seven years old again?" Rachel still seemed to have the headset on and offered no immediate response. Unlike before, the pinching at his temples continued even after leaving the memory. He started to reach up to see if he could adjust them when Rachel finally spoke. "Unfortunately, that didn't seem to work quite so well on our end," her voice not filled with the same excitement as before. "I think we saw a bit of the classroom, but everything was so blurry I couldn't make anything out." "As I said, the older memories are more difficult, but they are important to ensure we can calibrate the system. Please stay where you are and give us a few more minutes while we make some adjustments. Then, let's try it again." Michael wanted to mention the painful sensation, but Rachel had said to stay put, and it wasn't so bad anyway. After a few minutes, Rachel invited him to try again and warned him there might be a bit more pain this time as the system needed to work harder to ensure they could access the older memories. Michael once again closed his eyes, and after a few moments, a white light and a significant amount of pain in his temples, he was back in the classroom. While the memory appeared the same as it had before, as Michael looked toward his teacher, he could still feel a slight pain inside his tiny head. He listened to his teacher before taking in the room around him as he had done before. The boys were all dressed in polo shirts and shorts, and the girls in dresses with checked patterns. He looked down to admire his uniform. The school dress wasn't his favorite, but at least it was comfortable, much like his diaper which he felt rustling between his legs. Again, his eyes looked around the room at the various creations he and his classmates had made before coming to rest on his beloved backpack. It was easy to make out from the small pile at the back of the room. It was the perfect shade of pink with the image of the most beautiful princess wearing a white dress on the front. He began to look back towards the teacher as she continued her story as the white light flashed. This time the light seemed to linger for much longer, but he couldn't tell if it had been a few seconds or a few minutes. When his senses returned Michael jumped out of the seat, the device attached to him falling away as he did and turned towards Rachel, who was still taking off her headset. "Did you see that?" he said with a mixture of panic and embarrassment. Rachel saw Michaels's panic but looked confused. "Yes, we saw it," she said, "and it worked perfectly that time. Was there a problem on your side?" "The problem is that," Michael began, but he couldn't think what he would say. "Oh," Rachel said, shaking her head as though she finally understood something obvious. If you're embarrassed at what you wore to school that day, don't be. Believe me, I have seen so many early memories, and most boys want to see what it's like to wear a dress one day, and most girls want to dress up like a boy for a day. And if it's the other thing, then remember, kids of all ages have trouble with that stuff and relapse from time to time. Michael was partially reassured, but something still felt very strange. He knew the memory was his; it was his earliest real memory, but he had never understood why he had worn a dress to school that day or what accident had led to him needing to wear a diaper. Rachel didn't seem impacted by what she saw. "Well, I think that was a great success," she chirped. "I am sure you would like to do some more. I know I would love to keep going, but it's day one, and it's important we don't push ourselves too hard here. After all, you are not just here to help us with this; you must study tomorrow." Chapter 3 - ARC As Michael left the room, Luke turned to Rachel, who had begun rapidly typing up notes from their session. Luke had recently graduated with an MBA in psychology, specializing in the workings of human memory. Despite this and having been extensively briefed on the work being done at the facility, he was astonished by what he had just witnessed. With barely any work, they had successfully rewritten a person's memory, with the subject being none the wiser. "Impressive, isn't it," Rachel said, looking up from her note-taking. "We didn't create any brand new memories today, but two out of three isn't bad." The three Rachel referred to were the foundations of what she was creating. The machine could alter existing memories and make brand-new ones. This was the A and the C in ARC, addition and change, the ordering of the letters didn’t make logical sense, but someone in corporate clearly thought it sounded cool. Alongside changing Michaels memory, Rachel had run a process called reverberation. Reverberation allowed the mind to re-process any new or altered memories so the patient would accept them. If, for example, someone's memory was changed so that their first memory of their first car was green instead of black, their subsequent memories would be altered to accept this and so they always thought of the car as green. Having gone back to such an early memory showed how far the system had come. From Luke's reading, when the first tests had been done, it was almost impossible for the mind to accept anything from more than a few months prior, as the impact on other memories would cause too much of a disconnect for the participant. This was Rachel’s masterpiece and while the potential of the technology filled Luke with wonder, it also filled him with fear. Changing one persons memories for science was one thing, but if everyone on earth had a headset to view their memories and a corporation (or a government) had the capability to make changes to those memories, the implications were potentially disastrous. "How much will his memories change? Will he think he always wore a dress and a diaper to school?" Luke asked, his understanding of the process still in its infancy. "No, I kept the impact of the change minimal this time. To him, it will be an embarrassing moment that he never spoke about to anyone," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "We need to make a few more changes before we allow that memory to change him more substantially, but he won't forget how comfortable that special underwear felt," she said with a wry smile. The way Rachel described it was as if it was all so obvious. Luke had always thought of himself as intelligent, yet despite her being only a few years his senior and his studies, it was like he was a five year old trying to figure out how nuclear fission worked. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, trying to push away the feeling that there was nothing he could do that she couldn’t do a million times better. She looked at him "It's your first day, Luke. For the next few months, I don't need you to do anything more than observe and study what we are doing and maybe write a few reports. If you can study the logs of what we changed between the two memories and look through the reverberation file, that will be enough for now." Luke took his seat and opened the output files on his computer, but before he started reading, he asked, "Isn't it too much of a contradiction for him to have played out the same memory twice?" Rachel smiled. "He will remember both memories being the same, and tonight he will sleep, which will allow his mind to embed the altered memory further, and then we can start to have some fun."

Chapter 61 - Off the Radar “You want me to what? Drive into the city – now? It’s after eight, Kel. The girls are diapered for bed. Elaine is twelve – I don’t know how comfortable I am leaving Sam and Maddy with her while I drive for ninety minutes, to what, scour Seattle? Looking for one kid? That’s nuts. Call the police. That’s who you need.” Kelly pulled her phone away from her ear, to get’s Kim’s hectoring voice our of her head for a moment. She needed to think, damn it. Chris was in Los Angelas at some ritzy restaurant, thinking that the situation was well in hand. Calling in the police would inevitably end up involving him – wouldn’t it? Or, could she keep him divorced from the situation? She chuckled at her choice of wording. Divorced. No way. “You’re right, Kim – you’re right. I can’t drag you all the way back here – there’s no point. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll ask security to call the police.” “I’ll pack the kids up and come out there first thing tomorrow morning, Kel, wherever you are, and I’ll help you as much as I can, if you haven’t located him by then. But I think you will have. He can’t have gotten far.” “Thanks, Kim, I’ll keep you posted.” Kelly hung up on Kim. She looked across the lobby at the security desk, but decided to walk over to the information booth instead. Reese had no lineup in front of him and seemed to be packing textbooks into a backpack. “Is there any place around here to get a coffee and a bite to eat?” she asked him. “At this hour, everything in the building is closed except the vending machines. You’ll have to walk for a bit – everything close to here requires reservations. But there is a shawarma and bagel place on Forty-Second St, a few blocks over. If you turn right out of the main exit, and right again, you’ll see it on the North side, eventually. You might want to take a cab at this time of night. I’m not sure when they close.” Kelly walked back out the front entrance of the hospital, ignoring the security guard who opened the door for her. She surveyed the streetscape, brightly lit below a dark night sky. The main streets seemed friendly, populated, alive, but Kelly knew that the back alleys and sides streets would have a different feel to them, shadowed and empty. Zack is going to stick to where it’s well lit, if he’s left the building. She turned right and headed up the main street, feeling almost under-dressed in comparison to the theatre goers and dining crowd that were filing past her. The night air was cooler, but not cold, typical for the Pacific Northwest. At least it wasn’t raining. She turned right again at Forty-Second, and walked for a couple of minutes, scanning the storefronts and parking garages for any sign of a kid on a scooter. Eventually, she gave up on a foot search, and waived at the next cab she saw, rather than using the rideshare app again. A tan Toyota Camry with a taxi sign on top of it pulled up to the curb, pointing the wrong way, and she opened the back door, and dropped onto the vinyl bench seat, which was mismatched with the cloth front seats. “Turn it around, please, and head East – I’m looking for a little sandwich shop on the North side, a few blocks over.” The driver looked exasperated, and hesitated for a moment, before resetting the meter. He wanted to pick up over where the crowds were, hopefully someone headed out to one of the hotels by the airport, or right downtown, not some lady trying to save herself a ten minute walk. But, it would be a quick run. Maybe she’d tip well, in deference to the $6 fare it would probably add up to. He pulled a sharp U-turn and headed East. The buildings got shorter and the storefronts got dark, and then there was a rectangle of light, spilling onto the sidewalk, which he knew to be the kebab shop she was likely looking for. He cut across the opposing lanes and parked facing the wrong direction, hoping that not making her cross the street when she disembarked would please her. Kelly eyed the meter, which showed $6.30. “Do you take American Express?” she asked the driver. The driver sighed audibly. ________ The restaurateur had begun cleaning his counters, in preparation for winding down. He didn’t get much of the post-club drinking crowd, this far up from the main drag, so he usually shut down at nine o’clock, although it was entirely at his discretion. He thought again about the strange kid on the scooter. He was running away from something. Alerting the cop to the boy’s situation had been the right thing to do; wading into it himself was potentially dicey – a lone child, approaching a man – a foreigner – later in the evening… what could he do? Anywhere other than in front of a group, it was potentially dangerous. He’d been a teacher in his homeland, back in another life. He knew where people’s minds went. He would have had to toss the kid back onto the street when his last customer left. Shaking his head, he sprayed sanitizer onto a stainless table. Then, he saw a car pull up in front, facing into oncoming traffic. A cab. Maybe he was going to get some drinkers after all. Instead, a tall, well-dressed woman with long blond hair, and a cold face, pulled his door open, and strode up to the counter. He put his rag down and walked over to greet her. “Hello, welcome. Can I get you something? We close at nine, but I can still make anything on the menu…” “Of course you’re closing,” Kelly said in an irritated tone. “Do you have anything vegetarian?” “Our falafel is vegetarian – you can have it in a wrap, or on rice, or, I can put it into a salad.” “Fal..afall… yeah, no. Something normal. Just put vegetables into a wrap for me. Do you have cheese?” “Of course we have cheese – what type?” “Something low fat. And light mayonnaise, or light ranch. Do you have that?” “Regrettably, no, no light mayo, no ranch of any kind. I do have a garlic sauce that is light in taste…” “No, it’s fine, just the veggies and cheese in the wrap. Heat it up for me – you can do that, right?” The man smiled and shook his head slightly. “Of course,” he said. He turned around to retrieve a pita from a lidded stainless-steel bin. ________ [8:30 PM] Kelly sat down at a table, distracted, then stood back up. “Give me some water with the wrap. Not from your tap – something closed. Flat or sparkling is fine.” The man looked over at her, gave her one nod, and then went to a fridge behind the counter, selecting a lime-flavoured sparkling water, which he then placed on the counter, with a napkin beside it. Her wrap had been carefully folded into a paper sleeve, and was in a sandwich press, warming up. Kelly strode over to the counter and snatched the water and the napkin. This lady seems upset, even erratic. Hopefully she finishes her snack in peace, and departs. Kelly sat back down at the table, just as her phone vibrated. Martha: Are you with Zack yet? She grated her teeth. Kelly: He’s fine. I know where he is. Very kind of you to ask. I am handling this. Martha: Please let me know when he is available to speak to Chris. Chris would like to talk to him. Kelly grimaced and flipped her phone upside down. She picked up water and held it in both hands, as though trying to draw inspiration from its cool exterior. What do I do? A couple of minutes passed, and then the man walked over from behind the counter, and positioned a plate with her wrap on it, in front of her. “Do you need anything else, madam?” Kelly barely looked up, and then shook her head. ___________ [8:45 PM] The restauranteur wiped down his countertops, hoping that the lady eating at his table might be finished soon, so that he could close up. He heard her shoes tapping across his floor, and wished that they might be carrying her to the door. But then, the blond lady snapped her fingers behind him. He paused, waited a moment, and turned his head. “I have a question for you – is there much else open around here? Any malls or arcades or other restaurants?”” He examined the woman in front of him, and considered replying why do you ask? But then he thought better of it. I want to close shortly, and I do not want to spend a great deal more time in this lady’s company. “Most of the businesses that are still open are over in the entertainment district, which is by the hospital. If you proceed back the way you came in your taxi, you will come across an intersection…” “Yes, yes, I know where that is!” Kelly said, with a note of irritation. “I don’t need you to direct me to the hospital – that’s where I came from. There’s nothing else around here? A movie theatre, perhaps?” The proprietor raised his eyebrows and tightened his smile, but did not erase it entirely. “There is a sports bar up the street, I think that it is still open?” “I’m not looking for a bar,” Kelly snapped. “I’m looking for a public place, a concourse, a, I don’t know, a department store, something walking distance from here.” “I think you need to look around the hospital area for something like that. You won’t find any department stores downtown, but, many of the hotels in that area have lobbies and restaurants, and there is also a twenty-four hour drugstore near the hospital…” Kelly rolled her eyes. “I get, I get it, everything is over by the hospital.” Without saying another word, she walked towards the door, and gave it a shove, letting it swing shut in her wake. He looked over at her table, and saw that the parchment paper he had enveloped her wrap in, was balled up on the floor next to her chair. __________ Kelly strode quickly along the street, looking for another cab. At one point, she could swear she saw the same tan Camry come by, but when she waved, it sped up. She felt that she had come to a decision as to what to do, but the more she pondered it, the more her certainty bled away. I have to get back to the hospital, and ask security to call the police. I can still tidy this up. And deal with Zack. She pulled her phone out, to try the rideshare app. At the same time, her phone buzzed again. Martha. Kelly swore under her breath and kept walking. She decided not to reply, instead concentrating on not missing the left turn she had to make in order to get back to the hospital. The walk back took her several minutes, and as the hour got later, there were fewer people walking the streets to get somewhere, and it seemed like, for some of the souls she walked past, the streets themselves were their destination. Finally, she made the left onto the arterial street that fronted the hospital, and she was once again approaching the security guard at the entrance. He stepped aside and held the door open for her without asking any questions, which was exactly what Kelly expected of him. The population of the lobby was thinning out, but there were still people talking on their phones or looking about, trying to determine where they needed to go within the labyrinthine structure. As there will be all night. Hospitals don’t close. Kelly walked purposefully toward the security desk. The woman in the yellow shirt was still in there, making notes on a pad of paper as Kelly walked up. She looked up, and Kelly thought she saw a bit of anticipation in her face, and not just irritation. “Hi, I was just going to call you,” she said to Kelly, before Kelly had a chance to speak. “I was going to page you, as well,” Kelly responded. “I take it you’ve heard something about my son’s whereabouts?” The guard nodded. “One of my colleagues reported hearing from a staff member that an emergency exit had been opened briefly, not long after your son left the lobby. I took the liberty of asking my supervisor if we could pull the tape from the loading dock gate at the back of the property. I didn’t actually view it myself, but I am told that a child on a knee scooter went past the gate some time ago. We believe that he is off the property.”

I. My face, deep red with a combination of embarrassment and tears, was on full display, the rest of my body fully moving in momentum to my locked-tight wrist, which was firmly in the grasp of the supervising party in my life, my Mommy, who’s infuriated look pulling me along said all anyone needed to know. I could have whined, I could have done anything, but I felt…paralyzed. Things like this had happened so much in my life lately that I didn’t know what else to do. I just more or less marched along, I didn’t know what else to do. It was so embarrassing. I wanted to be anywhere but here, but here I was, unable to leave. It'd have been embarrassing enough if I was only in trouble. Making this whole thing even worse was what was around my waist. My bottom? Covered in poop. I had a diaper on, sure, but still, anyone within a 10000000 mile radius could smell it. It had a huge blowout, there were messy streaks going down my previously-pristine leggings. It looked every bit as bad as I smelled. It wasn’t the first time I had one of these, but for whatever reason, this was different. I’d even had poopy blowouts in the mall before; today, I was just on a heater. Tantrums, all of that. At this point, I didn’t even care, and I figured that if this was how I was going to be treated, I might as well give Mommy what she wanted. We were a sight for anyone who bothered to pay attention; my Auntie Stef walked at a steady distance behind, carrying my “older” sister, who, judging from this whole scene, had clearly passed me in the maturity department. “Unbelievable, just unbelievable, I’m at a complete loss for words,” Mommy bemoaned aloud, targeted at an audience of one, “all this, all this…embarrassment for Mommy, all because of a poopy diaper, a poopy diaper!” This end of the statement drew a few curious stares, but Mommy was undeterred. “A poopy diaper baby, you’ve ruined the day for all of us, and especially your sister, all because of a damn poopy diaper, something I think we see more than once per day? I don’t get it, I really don’t.” Mommy was scary when she was upset because there were bits of calm mixed into the inner seas of her volcanic temper. “You just think you’re going to get to watch Gabby’s Dollhouse when your sister does when we’re home, well, you’ve got another thing coming, Missy. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to leave your playpen all week after this little display, ughh!” Mommy started again, before once again showcasing the madness of it all, “…all because of a poopy diaper, unbelievable, even your sister doesn’t melt down like this because of an accident, and she’s expected to use the potty; you’re not, you go in your diapers, ugh, just unbelievable.” I just tried to move fast in my complicated waddling state, my legs uncomfortably mixed with my own fecal matter, all while reflecting on the current events. Seeing my sister really surpass me and take her rightful spot as the older kid in the house, it just set me off.. It wasn’t fair, she got to have her ears pierced, and I had to watch! What should have been a delightful rite of passage for my sister, Mommy, and Auntie Stef, quickly devolved into my own tantrum on the floor of Claire’s shortly afterwards, to the delight of no one. Compounding it all was the fact that in the middle of this tantrum, I had made a runny poopy in my diaper, making a further mess even worse by throwing myself on my bottom in the middle of it all. All because I was supposed to watch the other three shop for my sister. I didn’t want to watch this! I just wanted to be anywhere else; or my own ears pierced. How dare they! As I was dragged across the mall floor by Mommy towards the family bathrooms, I snapped back into reality. I’d been falling into these mindsets more and more lately, which was concerning, but probably was something I’d better become more used to. I didn’t know when I’d ever be out of this treatment, if ever, so maybe I’d better just start giving into the end of the rainbow more; I didn’t know where this was ultimately headed. I’m a little conflicted though; on one hand, this was my present and indefinite future reality, which thought this was what I always wanted, and I should be ecstatic, but on the other hand, this was my present and indefinite future reality, and it was embarrassing mostly and other times cringe worthy. It truly had become a textbook case of “be careful what you wish for”, forced into this due to my own missteps, unlikely to ever leave, at least anytime soon. As simple as my life had become, it was equally complemented by perceived complication. We finally got near a familiar sight, the family restroom sign pointed a direction that our destination was nearby. I was surprised Mommy took this detour; but then, why would she need to get the car seats poopy and make my Auntie Stef’s car stinky if she didn’t have to. Maybe, I guess, I didn’t know. Just guesses, my time for planning and those sorts of things had gone out the window a long time ago. Just as I was hoping for something uneventful, we turned the corner to the family restroom and…it was “out of order”. “Hmmm,” Mommy looked at Auntie Stef, “any ideas?” “Let’s just take everyone to the ladies room, I’ll take Amelia potty while you can take care of Courtney’s poopy diaper, there’s a place to change her there,” Auntie Stef informed her. “Alright, ladies room it is,” Mommy still seemed annoyed, but obviously not with her sister. We once again were off at Mommy’s brisk pace. Thankfully, the ladies room wasn’t too far away. I wasn’t too sure though, I didn’t like the fact that this was much more public than the family restroom we originally were going to use. As we went in the doorway, Auntie Stef took my sister, “want to go to the big girl potty with Auntie?” “Mmhmm,” I heard Amelia say. “Alright, we’ll meet you out here when we’re done, see you soon,” Mommy smiled and kissed Amelia, before turning towards our destination. Mommy pulled me towards a back corner, where there were several changing tables, built in to the counters, each separated into different changing areas by a dividing wall, but set up in a way that multiple changes could take place simultaneously. As we approached, I saw another mom starting a similar job with her own toddler, who sounded about as thrilled as I was to have their diaper changed. I was still a crying, teary mess, so I had no room to talk. Mommy walked to the table next to the occupied one, setting down her brioche diaper backpack on a space behind the changing table. She moved my hand from her vice grip to around a metal rod by the structure, leaving me to stand awkwardly while she took everything out. A new diaper, a travel case of wipes, a changing pad, new clothes, nothing was spared; she even took out hand sanitizer for herself for after the change was done. Like I said, very prepared. As I stood there awkwardly, alternating my glances between Mommy’s pretty brioche Petunia Pickle Bottom bag and the environment around us. As I glanced, the other mom looked over, giving us both a half smile, before doing a bit of a double take at me. At 5’6”, I wasn’t the typical baby having my diaper changed.Soon, I felt Mommy pushing me towards the table, her immense strength overpowering me, “Up,” was all she said. As I moved my poopy bottom towards salvation, I noticed Mommy making a smile to the other mom who was looking at us. “Poopy diapers, doesn’t matter how big the baby, always gonna be poopy diapers, am I right? Just when I thought I had both of my girls out of diapers, this one decided her journey in them didn’t want to be over, and here we are!” Mommy said in a feigned exasperation of catharsis. “Oh I can relate to that!” I heard the other mom say, “when her brother was born,” she began telling Mommy, motioning to the toddler she was changing, “she decided to cancel her own potty training, and I’ve got two loads of poopy diapers to change now! Gotta love motherhood!” “Have lots of babies, they said…” Mommy began and laughed, to which the other mom laughed too. She pulled back my sodden leggings and began the dirty work. As she pulled them down my dirty legs, she pulled out a plastic bag, rolling the leggings into the bag, tying it shut, and walking over, past the other relatable mom. Mommy quickly tossed it away, there was no reusing of it, not in any known universe. “Looks like a code brown and a half,” I heard the other mom say. “Like I said, just another day,” Mommy laughed, coming back to find me, “it’s why they sell clothes right?” As Mommy began pulling out wipes, the other mom must have finished, I heard her say goodbye, and Mommy happily bid her adieu. I always found mommies/moms to be such strange individuals. They were the only people I knew who could exchange pleasantries while being wrist deep in poopy. I guess it was a labor of love or something sappy. “Phew, phewwie, you stink stinkyyy,” Mommy teased somewhat melancholy; I think she’d rather be doing anything but this right now, especially given her current state of furor. Before taking on the diaper, she ran a series of wipes up and down my legs, cleaning off the blowout aftermath, putting the wipes in another plastic bag she’d popped out. Soon after, she opened the diaper, revealing the mess that necessitated this visit in the first place. “Yucky wucky, you’re so stinky, inky,” she teased, taking on the unenvious task of cleaning my diaper area. As mad as she could get at me, diaper changes were always pleasant, Mommy made them fun, no matter how many she did. She made baby noises, Mommy noises, in exaggerated tones throughout the entirety of the charge. Prior to Amelia using the potty, Mommy was just the same. A real natural, one could not argue.I knew I was really in for it when I got home, but for this moment in time, Mommy made me forget about it, as brief a reprieve as it might be. The cool wipes moved across my bottom, up the crack, over and over. Across my little peepee, which by this point was very much unusable except to potty, and all over the rest. A large cloud of baby powder soon followed, as did a dollop of rash cream. Soon, Mommy lifted me, sliding another diaper underneath me, taping it up. Mommy then took out a khaki skirt, pulling it up my legs. It matched my purple Gabby’s Dollhiuse shirt, I was impressed. “All done, Princess,” Mommy looked at me, putting the wipes into the used diaper and taping it up;, “lay there so Mommy can pack all your diaper goodies up.” Mommy squirted hand sanitizer on her hands, and began rubbing them as she looked at the landscape. She put the wipes container back, the powder and cream back, and then had me get off the table while she put the changing pad away. She slung the brioche bag on her shoulder, taking the used diaper in one hand and my hand in another. As we walked towards a garbage can, another mom came in, babies in tow. She and Mommy made eye contact, each shaking their heads and exchanging a laugh. Mommy tossed my used diaper out, and led me out towards the mall, where Amelia and Auntie Stef were waiting. “Looks like you got that solved,” Auntie Stef chuckled. “All in a mom’s work, right?” Mommy said lightheartedly. “Of course, nice choice too, she’s really rocking that diaper, isn’t she?” Stef asked. “You better believe it, you know she loves it, doesn’t she? Doesn’t she?” Mommy teased. I just got red and embarrassed. Aunt Stef was right, I was “rocking” my diaper. My skirt was really short, the bottom peaked out, and when I raised my arms the teeniest bit, the diaper stuck out the top. Anyone could see it, anyone within ear shot could notice it. “Well, let’s go home, we’ll get Amelia a frosty and us some lunch, and we can take it home and eat it; I’d love to eat in, but we need to get the baby down for her afternoon nap, she’s kind of cranky, if you couldn’t tell,” Mommy said in a mocking tone, to which the two laughed. Amelia gave a cute laugh of her own, but I think it was mostly to humor the adults. Off we went, Mommy holding my hand and pulling me, Aunt Stef carrying my sister. Two different directions, me pulled towards perpetual and infinite babydom, my sister pushed to higher and higher heights. I was overwhelmed, and so deeply conflicted. As we made it out to Auntie Stef’s Highlander, a dark and extended reality began to settle on me that I would never escape. As I was buckled in my car seat, I began to sob, beginning to process the day that this ear piercing adventure had wrought. “Oh Courtney, it’s ok, you’re just tired baby,” Mommy tried to console me, handing me a bottle, “drink some milkies, and enjoy the ride; Mommy will carry you in at home if you fall asleep, you’ve had a long day Princess.” I took the bottle and began to suckle down the bitter pill my life had swallowed. It wasn’t always this way, but it looked like it was going to be moving forward. As I began to doze and take it in, I thought about it all, and how I had no one else but myself to blame.

Chapter 107: Venting AFTER A COUPLE of hours, I was relieved that we were ready to try to remove the monstrosity taped to my rear! Beth had placed my changing mat from my bag on the ground and was standing guard while Nikki came to try to remove the tapes. They hadn’t budged for Beth! “Ready?” Nikki asked me. “More than,” I said, “It’s absorbed everything, but it feels gross to sit in it for this long!” She nodded and knelt down, “Let’s give it a try.” At first, she gripped and pulled like Beth had a moment before, and it slipped from her finger. She dug into her purse for something and pulled out a multitool with Pliers that she grabbed on with then. “We’ll try these,” she said with a grimace. She pulled gently yet firmly, and I was beginning to think I would be stuck in that stupid diaper forever as it didn’t seem to budge! I looked up at her face and saw the effort she was making, and finally, I heard a slight rip sound. She didn’t hesitate to just yank it, and I was freed from one side. “This is ridiculous!” she said as she began to fold it over so it couldn’t reattach itself. It even ripped the covering from the diaper off! I tried to sit up to see, but she gently pushed me down. “One second, kiddo, let me get this one too!” The second one required another few minutes of yanking and ripping before it finally gave way. As she pulled it out from underneath me and sat it aside, I looked in horror as it resealed itself as if it was still around me! “That thing is possessed!” I complained. “I think you’re right,” she agreed, “Where’s another diaper?” A few minutes later, the demonic diaper was in the trashcan, and I could close my legs nearly normally again! “Try to avoid the nannies?” Beth suggested as we got back to work. “Trust me, I think I should have just let the girl change me!” Now that we had a system down, we were moving faster. While Beth scanned through the footage, I would work on piecing the sections together, ensuring everything worked out with the pacing and timing of camera changes, scene breaks, etc. She provided me with a pretty solid list of clips as she stayed ahead of me. The editing was the first time I had seen a few scenes since they were scheduled outside my dorm hours. “Charlotte pulls off the angry mommy look really well,” I said as I placed the clip of her from the scene of being pissed off about her daughter being put back into diapers told to her over the phone. “I definitely wouldn’t want her pissed off at me,” Beth agreed. “Who would have thought she’d be such a sweet girl in real life?” I nodded, “Other than my family, Nikki and Lilly, I probably trust her the most.” She nodded, and I got back to work. A moment later, she snickered, “What?” I asked. “Check out this blooper!” She showed me a clip of Charlotte with Ava in the daycare owner’s office. As she pressed play, I had to giggle! Ava missed her mark and ran into the desk for some reason. It must have been a brutal hit because you could see her grimace. I giggled at that, too. We were making some quick progress, and by the time we called it a night for dinner, we’d made it through the scene of Charlotte picking me up to adopt me. “Courthouse scenes tomorrow,” Beth said, checking off some things in her head, “Maybe we can be finished by Friday?” I shrugged, “We’ll see, it’ll be tight. Even if we finish Monday or Tuesday, it’ll still be way ahead of Professor Wyler’s schedule. I guess we could schedule a time to come in this weekend, though?” “Let’s wait and see what’s needed,” she suggested. “I think Reila and I want to take you on a girls’ day out on Saturday.” “Can I invite Mia, Amy, and Eva?” “We’re not good enough?” She asked me, teasing. “Well, I figured they really wanted to be able to shop for some things, and with Nikki it’ll be safer?” She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Sure, but make sure you explain to them that we need to stay as a close group. If they wander off, things could go badly…?” I nodded, “Will do!” BETH ENJOYED HANGING out with Carly, Reila, and Livy for dinner that night as they sat at a table. Nikki insisted on sitting a little away for the meal to give them space. It had been just a fun time hanging with the girls, and she had to admit she was thinking of Carly as one of them now. They walked Carly back to Sander’s Hall before she returned to her dorm. When Beth reached her room, she sat down and began working on her homework on her bed. The ever-helpful Rachel appeared and offered her a snack and a water bottle while she was working. A blanket was also kindly draped over her, and she felt pretty comfortable working while Rings occasionally received a pet of approval. She carefully checked to ensure everything was in a sealed original package before eating or drinking it, though! Beth was just wrapping up something for her systems class when there was a knock at the door. She was about to stand up when Rachel appeared and opened the door for Reila. “Oh, hi, Rachel,” Reila said nervously. “Don’t mind me. I just wanted to make sure it was safe to let whoever was at the door inside,” Rachel said, closing and locking the door before disappearing. “Hey,” Beth said, “What’s up?” “I wondered if you were up to talking?” “About what?” Beth asked her friend. Reila sighed, “Whatever it is, that’s your big secret?” She added, “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m worried about you?” Beth felt her blood grow cold. ‘Livy knows and didn’t abandon you…’ She thought. Reila gave her a long look, “You can trust me?” Beth sighed, “Climb onto my bed so we can sit together? I’m not telling this story standing up.” Reila looked almost surprised that she’d succeeded in her quest, but she climbed the tall ladder to the bed and smirked at Rings. “For someone who does everything she can to avoid being seen as a Little much of the time, I can’t believe you have her?” “Rings is really important… Maybe you’ll understand once I tell you the story,” Beth said. She had a soft, fuzzy blanket that she threw over the two of their laps as they sat crisscrossed opposite each other. “Look, Reila, I trust you more than you know, but I have to have your absolute word that you will never ever ever breathe a word of this to anyone? Livy and Carly know, but no one else does?” “You told Carly before me?” She looked hurt. Beth shook her head, “No, she knew from her mom.” “Why would her mom know?” “It’s a long story…” I HAD BEEN grateful to make a trip to the nest in a diaper that wasn’t causing me to crawl! The fact it was wet was annoying, but at least there was no poop in it. I debated whether it was worth asking Lilly for a change. The question was decided for me when she intercepted me as soon as I entered. “I got a notice you’d been put in a crawler diaper?” I sighed, “Stupid HoloNanny claimed they had nothing else in my size?!?” She picked me up and checked my diaper, “You’re not wearing one now?” I shook my head, “No?” “How did you get it off? That shouldn’t have been possible to remove until bedtime?” “That explains why Nikki had to work at it,” I said, thinking aloud. “Who’s Nikki?” Lilly asked, seeming a little perturbed for some reason. “Beth’s bodyguard?” She relaxed a bit, then, “So she’s safe?” “According to my grandmother?” “I’d take that,” she agreed. She squeezed the padding. “Well, you do have a soaked diaper on that does need changing. Let’s take care of it, at least.” I sat compliantly in her arms and handed her my backpack that I shrugged off so she could put it to the side. She was gentle as she changed me, pulled the uniform off, and dressed me in another pair of pajamas that she must have picked out of my drawers. “Those are cute,” she said to me. I blushed. Somehow, Aunt Bella found some designs from the latest animated movie back home and printed them on the pajamas. The scene of the main characters was enlarged on the onesie top that she snapped shut. “Thanks,” I said. “Where are you getting these cute outfits? They’re perfectly sized to you?” “I have a family member who makes clothes,” I told her simply. “That’s cool,” she said. I was given a hug and then placed on the ground with a butt pat, even as several of the other girls were moving to the bathroom to get baths in. I noticed that most didn’t seem to be getting bathed directly by Lilly? I found my way to my things and found my EdgeSphere goggles. I was grateful to see I could get ahold of Shelby via text and get her to meet me in a virtual room. “Hey Carly!” she said, giving me a hug that I returned. “Hi Shelby, thanks for meeting me!” “No problem! It’s nice to see you after having had a long day today!” “What happened?” I asked. She threw her hands in the air, “What didn’t happen?!?” She nervously moved her hand to her hair and plopped down on a Little-sized couch, and I found myself sitting on the other end like I might have with my sisters. “Go on?” I said, sensing she needed to vent. “Ughh!!! You sure you want to hear this?” “Yeah, you sound like you need to vent. Tell me what happened?” She sighed, “Well, it started with a traffic jam that meant Grandpa was late to drop us off today at school. He walked us in, but my first-period teacher, Mr. Gibs, was still a total jerk about it! Like missing fifteen minutes of history was going to make a difference?!?” I nodded at that, “I’ve had teachers like that before. What else happened?” I watched her pull at the ends of her hair then. “Gibs felt a need to lecture me after class, so I just barely made it to math on time! Mrs. O was at least kind about it, but when I went to turn in my homework, Kasey, this Big girl queen-bee, tripped me and crumpled the assignment up before she got there.” “Ouch,” I said. “Were you okay?” “Yeah, and fortunately, Mrs. O not only saw it, but she also had the classroom camera on, so there was evidence when she sent Kasey to the office.” “Homework?” “She looked at it and just gave me the A,” she told me. “Well, that’s at least fairer than some teachers I’ve had.” “I thought so too… I found out Kasey somehow got out of getting suspended, though, so she showed up serving detention at lunch. If that happens at our school, you have to help serve food and clean up the cafeteria. Apparently, that was perfectly fine by her, though. I think she was responsible for the next part when nearly every Little at school, most of the Tweeners, and even a couple Bigs all pooped our pants in our second to last class!” “You’re kidding?!?” I said in disbelief. She threw her hands in the air, “I wished I was!!!” She frowned, “At least I was wearing a Pull-Up, as were most of the Littles, but the Mids and a few of the Littles who weren’t wearing protection all got punished over the obvious poisoning!” “What happened?” “Well, for me, it was just a stupid downgrade on my potty chart… and I have to wear diapers the rest of the week.” “Others?” “My friend Jack was being an idiot and wasn’t wearing any protection… he’s in diapers for the rest of the year, and they moved him to a ‘special unit’ that’s basically a daycare!” I moved over to her and hugged her, “I’m sorry, Shelby.” She wiped her eyes and moved a little further away; even virtually, I could see the tears. “The worst was one of my other friends, Kiersten…” She looked about to completely break down as I stayed close to her. “What happened?” I asked, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to?” She shook her head, “Kiersten is a girl I went to kindergarten with, and we’ve had classes together all through middle school and high school. We’re almost done with our senior year, and she even got accepted to Emerson already…” She wiped her eyes again, “I know she was wearing a Pull-Up to school today, but for some reason, she must not have been wearing one after school… One of my friends saw her walking home, and she had an accident on the street across from the school… right in front of Kasey…” I grimaced. “That bitch who caused it all, ad… ado… adopted her!” I flung my arms back around her and let her cry, as I knew she was grieving the loss of a girl who sounded like she was a close friend. BETH STARED AT Reila, who was sitting speechless. “Say something?” She asked nervously. “You’re like being real here? Honest?” Beth nodded nervously, “Yes?” “That has got to be one of the most frightening stories ever to have a happy ending. Your fiancé became your daddy?” Beth nodded, “Yes.” “I’m not going to lie, Beth. It’s kind of creepy, in a way… I mean, you’re like older than my mom in real life?” Beth blushed, “I try not to think about that.” “I get it… that’s weird and creepy but… also completely awesome. Your dad cared enough to save you like that? And your mom let them implant you?” Beth nodded; that part always freaked her out the most. Reila said, “I can’t believe you’re one of those first-implantation Littles… but really, I can’t believe they let you grow up then? Almost every one of those ‘pregnancies’ resulted in a Little kept as a newborn?” Beth squirmed, but nodded, “I know…” “I’m glad they didn’t do that with you! So this is why you’re so touchy on some things?” Beth nodded, “Yeah… I feel like my past is always hanging over me.” “If you went through all of that, why in the world did you come to Emerson? Ames isn’t as bad as Calisota, but it’s close?” Beth shrugged, “I’m not a Little now?” “Barely?” She nodded, “I’m taller than you, at least?” She managed to lightheartedly stick her tongue out at her. “Maybe, but compared to Charlotte Perez?” Beth blushed, “Well, she’s even still shorter than my mom?” “Your mom is kind of scary,” Reila told her. “Yeah… especially when you consider she basically adopted my dad?” “Sounds like her heart was in the right place, at least?” Beth nodded, “I think so.” “So, now I know the secret…?” Beth nodded, “Now you know…” “And guess what?” Reila asked her. Beth felt tense, “What?” Reila pounced on her, “I still love you as one of my best friends. That isn’t changing.” “Thanks, Reila,” Beth told her. They talked for a bit before she asked, “Would you feel up for the girls’ day of shopping with Carly on Saturday?” “Sure!” She smiled, “Especially since we’ll have your bodyguard with us!” They spent another half hour hanging out before Reila took off for bed, and Beth worked to finish her work. As Rachel tucked her in, she thought, “I got lucky with her and Livy!” I LOOKED AT Shelby, who was doing a bit better after talking for a half hour more. “So why’d you call, anyway?” Shelby asked. I squirmed, “I kind of hate to even ask now…?” She looked interested. “If it distracts me from today, I’ll take anything!” I nodded, understanding that idea. “Well… I kind of want to take Beth on a date?” “Is she still really interested in you after…?” She motioned towards my body. I blushed, “Yes?” “You really got lucky there,” she sighed. “So date night ideas?” “I mean, I might be able to come up with something back home, but I don’t have a clue what to do here. Also, I don’t want to end up in some situation where we both get adopted or something?” She nodded, “Whatever you do, make sure you take that bodyguard girl with you.” “Planning on it?” “Well, how about dinner and a movie? It’s not ultra-fancy, but you could probably have an early dinner on Friday, go to a movie, and come back here for the weekend before your curfew.” “Any suggestions for where though?” She looked thoughtful momentarily and said, “Do you want upscale?” I shrugged, “I have money from Mom in my account? We could? I don’t think Beth cares if I spend a fortune on a meal, though?” She nodded, “Well, you could do a steakhouse about a block from the mall. There’s a pasta place attached to the mall, too. Or, there’s a pretty cool retro burger joint on the way from your campus?” “Retro?” “Like some weird diner that is actually based out of your dimension? Old vehicles hold the tables? They have burgers and shakes, and the waitresses and waiters actually come out and sing old songs and show tunes every ten minutes or so?” “That could be fun?” “It is, I’ve gone a few times with friends.” She looked pained then, and I had a feeling her friend was probably one she’d gone with. “Any movie suggestions?” I asked her. “Yeah, I bet Beth would like…” Shelby and I talked for a while longer after planning my date, and I made sure I gave her a big hug before we disconnected. When I saw Lilly for a needed diaper change, I was more than ready to call it a night and get some sleep! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!! Please press the 'Like' Button and leave a comment! (I really need the encouragement to get back into this during this week/weekend if I'm going to make more progress this year!) I made it through one of the most stressful weeks of this year last week, but unfortunately, some other things are going to keep the stress on me for a while. As such, I'm going to be going down to one chapter a week beginning this coming week, so hopefully, I can keep up a steady flow of chapters. Next weekend might be a chance to start writing more chapters, but this week itself doesn't look very promising. (Normally, this is prime writing time for me) Please keep the encouragement up with likes and comments? I know many of you support me on WattPad as well. I have a feeling that platform will disappear as an option for us in the coming months. I'm going to keep posting there just because I find it easier to read/track a story of this length, though. Of course, I'll continue posting on DailyDiapers as well, no matter what! Thank you for being my most loyal readership base! As always my completed works are available from Amazon Kindle as well! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter 1: This can't be real. "Ashley, did you remember to pack the camera for your sister?" Steve yelled while adding things to their car for their road trip. "Got it!" Ashley called back, lugging a heavy suitcase towards the car. She had packed meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed for their week-long getaway. As she approached the car, she noticed Steve struggling with a large cooler. "Let me help you with that," she said, setting down the suitcase and moving to assist him. Together, they managed to load the cooler into the trunk, making space for the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, Ash," Steve said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ashley smiled, feeling a warm sense of contentment. She loved moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with a sense of togetherness. As they finished loading the car, Ashley glanced at the time. "We should get going if we want to make it to Sarah's before dark," she said, referring to her sister. "She's expecting us to drop off the camera today." Steve nodded, closing the trunk. "Let's hit the road, then. I can't wait to get to the cabin and relax." With everything packed and ready, they climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life as Steve turned the key. As they drove off, the sun shining brightly overhead, Ashley couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It was their 4th year anniversary of dating each other. She was confident he was going to propose while out at the cabin. As they left the city, traffic grew heavier, and Steve, always the impatient one, decided to take a detour through the backroads to avoid the congestion. The scenic route wound through the mountains, offering breathtaking views of the rugged landscape. "Steve, do you know where we are going? We've never gone this way before to visit my sister." Ashley asked concerned they were going to be late. "Don't worry about it; the road has to connect at some point," he said nonchalantly. "If you say so," she replied, pulling out her phone. "Hey Sarah, we're going to be late. Steve is taking a new road this time. He's being his "adorable" self and refusing to listen to the GPS or his navigator, lol," Ashley texted her sister. Hours had gone by at this point, as they ascended higher into the mountains, their cell signal began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. "I think we should turn back Steve," Ashley told him, concerned they might have gone too far without cell service. It's already been an hour since the last time she could do anything on her phone. Despite Ashley's protests, Steve assured her that they would soon find their way back to civilization. However, his optimism dwindled as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the desolate road. With no cell service and no GPS to guide them. Steve admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'll stop at the next gas station or something and ask for directions." "Or, you know we could turn around?" "How? This road isn't wide enough for me to do that." They continued down the desolate road in silence; their nerves grew with each passing minute without an opportunity to turn back around. The fading light of dusk painted the landscape in eerie shadows, heightening their sense of isolation. Suddenly, with a sputter, their car lurched to a halt, billowing smoke from beneath the hood. Steve's heart sank as he stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sign of life from the engine. Only to see the check engine light and the red lining of the temperature gauge. The silence that followed was deafening. Ashley unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, stretching her legs and taking in their surroundings. She let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone, now displaying a bleak "No Service" message. "We should start walking," Steve said, forcing confidence into his voice as he opened the car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. "Maybe there's a gas station or a house nearby where we can ask for help." Ashley nodded, though her eyes betrayed her growing unease. They began to walk up the road, the fading light casting long shadows ahead of them. The air was thick with the scent of pine trees and the distant hum of crickets. After what felt like an eternity, they came across an old, abandoned house nestled among the trees. The windows were boarded up, and the front porch sagged under the weight of neglect. Moss and leaflitter had overcome the roof nearly entirely. Ivy stretched up one side of the house threatening to overtake the decrepit structure. Steve hesitated, looking at the house and the setting sun, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shroud. "We should keep going," he suggested, his voice tight with unease. Ashley hesitated an urgency in her bladder demanding her attention. "I have to go," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And it's getting dark. We'll just go in, use the bathroom, and leave." Reluctantly, Steve nodded, his stomach churning with apprehension as they approached the crumbling porch. Couldn't she just go by a bush? The door creaked open with a rusty groan, revealing a dimly lit interior choked with dust and cobwebs. As they stepped inside, a chill wind whispered through the empty rooms, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. WHAM Ashley and Steve both jumped at the loud noise, turning to see the door closed. Steve nervously scanned the dimly lit interior, his hand instinctively reaching for Ashley's. "Must've been some strong wind," he muttered, trying to rationalize the sudden slamming of the door. Ashley nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the rising panic. "Yeah, let's just find the bathroom and get out of here," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. Standing in the hallway, their senses were on high alert, every creak and groan of the old house setting their nerves on edge. Ashley was about to take another step down the hallway when a sudden movement caught her eye. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, she froze in terror as a figure emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, life-sized mannequin with hollow eyes and a frozen smile. "Welcome, little ones," it cooed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "It's time to play!" Steve and Ashley's hearts pounded in their chests as the figure began charging towards them frantically. Waving its arms about wildly. They froze on the spot, their minds unable to comprehend the surreal situation unfolding before them. Closing their eyes, they braced themselves for the inevitable. Suddenly, the mannequin's voice softened, sending a chill down their spines. "Uh-oh, looks like someone snuck their way out of the playroom," it said, its tone almost playful. "You two should know better. You wouldn't want to get in trouble, now would we?" Its smile widened to an unnatural length. Confused, Steve and Ashley cautiously opened their eyes. To their astonishment, the mannequin now loomed large before them, towering over them like a giant. The entire house had transformed, everything around them appearing larger than life. They were no longer their adult selves but had shrunk down to the size of toddlers, surrounded by oversized furniture and toys. Steve and Ashley blinked in disbelief, trying to make sense of their surreal surroundings. They realized that the abandoned house had undergone a dramatic transformation. What was once a decrepit, abandoned building now appeared pristine and inviting, as if frozen in time from its heyday as a bustling daycare center. The walls were painted in bright, cheerful colors and adorned with whimsical murals of smiling animals and playful children. Sunshine streamed in through large windows, casting warm, golden rays across the room, nothing like the outside they had just come from. Toys were neatly arranged in colorful bins, and child-sized furniture dotted the space. There was a cubby system across from the stairs in front of them, where kids hung their coats and placed their shoes. But despite the seemingly idyllic atmosphere, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The silence that filled the room was heavy with the weight of the unknown, and a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of their consciousness. "What... what's happening?" Ashley whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she clung to Steve's hand, her eyes wide with fear. Steve shook his head, his mind reeling with disbelief. "I-I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty and fear."This can't be real." The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Oh, but it is, my dears," it said, its eyes gleaming with an eerie light. "You're here to play, just like all the other little ones who came before you." As the realization of their predicament sank in, Ashley and Steve exchanged a terrified glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They turned towards the door, desperate to escape, but to their horror, they found that the once easily reachable doorknob was now far beyond their grasp, towering above them like a monument to their helplessness. "We need to get out of here," Ashley cried, her voice tinged with panic as she tugged futilely at the door. "This can't be happening." Steve's mind raced, trying to make sense of their surreal situation. "There's no way out," his voice trembling with fear as he scanned the room for an escape route. The mannequin's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid leaving is not an option, my dears," it said, its tone eerily calm. "You see, you're here to play, and play you shall." Steve and Ashley turned towards the mannequin, their eyes wide with fear and their backs pressed up against the door. It approached them, its towering figure casting a long shadow over them. Ashley's heart sank as she felt a warm trickle down her leg, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she was wetting her pants in fear. The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Looks like someone had an accident," it said, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "No matter, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." With a swift motion, the mannequin scooped up Steve and Ashley in its enormous arms, carrying them away from the door and up the stairs into the daycare. Steve and Ashley struggled against its grip, but it was no use. They were at the mercy of the supernatural force that held them captive. As they were carried through the daycare, they passed by a room with empty cribs and playpens, their surroundings a surreal mix of childhood innocence and eerie abandonment. The mannequin brought them to a brightly lit room filled with changing tables and stacks of diapers, a hint to their new reality. "Now, now, little ones," the mannequin cooed, placing them on the changing tables. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for playtime." Steve and Ashley exchanged a terrified glance, their minds reeling with fear and confusion. How had they ended up in this nightmare? And more importantly, was there a way out? Chapter 2: Changed Steve's heart raced as he struggled against the firm grip of the mannequin, his muscles straining with effort. He twisted and turned, desperate to break free, but its hold on him was unyielding. Ashley, stunned by the event that had unfolded, froze. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. But she made no sound, too shocked by the sudden events. "Let us go!" Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "This isn't right! We need to leave!" But his words fell on deaf ears as the feminine figure carried them up the stairs, its movements slow and deliberate. Steve's heart sank as he realized the futility of their situation. They were at the mercy of a supernatural force, trapped in a nightmare. As they reached the top of the stairs, the mannequin carried them into a brightly lit room, the walls adorned with colorful murals of children's finger paintings. Some of them clearly cries for help, with large red letters on some of the drawings reading "LET ME GO" and "HELP!" Diaper boxes lined the walls, with two changing tables. One at the end of the wall, with a dresser adjacent to it. Across the room was a large playpen with nothing in it, almost like it was meant to be a holding cell. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Steve twisted and wiggled, managing to slip out of the mannequin's hold. He fell towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, only to be caught once again as the mannequin's grip tightened around him. As he dangled in the air, he met the mannequin's gaze, his eyes widening in terror as its face contorted into a grotesque expression before snapping back to its benign facade. The room around them seemed to warp and shift, along with its face. The walls pulsating with otherworldly energy. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him. The mannequin's voice echoed in his mind, its words soft yet chilling. "You need to be more careful, little one," its tone syrupy sweet yet laced with menace. "You wouldn't want to get into trouble, would you?" Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What do you want from us?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. But the mannequin remained silent, its painted lips curled into a twisted smile. With a flicker of movement, it released Steve from its grasp, setting him down into the playpen across from the table. "You need to wait your turn, young man," it whispered, sending shivers down Steve's spine. The mannequin then turned back to the table, placing Ashley on the changing table, its movements gentle. Ashley snapped out of her shock as she realized what the mannequin was trying to do. She started to struggle against its grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her. She watched in terror as the mannequin's hands reached for her, its touch cold and unnerving. With a swift motion, it began to undress her, stripping her of her clothes with a mechanical precision that sent shivers down her spine. "Please, let us go," Ashley pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "We don't belong here. We just want to go home." The mannequin pressed Ashley to the changing table firmly, pulled out the straps, and tied her down to it. "I'm sorry, sweetie, only your parents can pick you up from the daycare. But It's okay; we'll take really good care of you until they get here." Its voice felt unsettling, ringing in their ears. It sounded sweet yet menacing. What is the deal with this thing? Ashley struggled against the restraints on the changing table, panic rising within her. Frantically, she attempted to undo the straps, her fingers fumbling with the buckles. "Steve, please help me!" she cried out, her voice choked with fear and desperation. But Steve was stuck in the playpen, his attempts to escape proving futile. He watched helplessly, clinging to the rim of the pen on his tiptoes, his heart aching with fear for Ashley. He watched in horror as her wet pants were removed and discarded. Ashley's eyes darted to her phone as it fell out of her pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering within her. But her hope was short-lived as the mannequin's voice filled the room, its tone stern and unsettling. "Phones are for grown-ups, little one," it admonished, its words echoing in her mind. "Children aren't allowed to play with them." With a deft movement, the mannequin picked up Ashley's phone and placed it on a shelf above the changing table, far out of her reach. Ashley's heart sank as she realized her only lifeline to the outside world was beyond her grasp. She quickly looked toward Steve, hoping he could find a way to hide his phone. Maybe they could use his to escape? As the mannequin continued to undress her, Ashley's mind raced with fear and uncertainty. She was truly at the mercy of this twisted entity, trapped in a nightmare from which she could not wake. Steve, seeing how it handled the situation with the phone and the look Ashley gave him, began to look for a place he could stash his. He knew he had to do something, anything, to keep it away from it. But as he looked around the room, all he saw was the colorful murals and the ominous diaper boxes lining the walls. Steve looked back at Ashley, meeting her gaze. He was shocked to his core. The mannequin had completely stripped her down. She was naked! Mortification and frustration boiled within him. No one was allowed to do that to her except him! Fear set in as he realized, however, that there was no way he could hide his phone on himself, not with it stripping them down to their birthday suits. He could see her face bright red with humiliation from what was unfolding. The mannequin then reached down to the shelf right below the table Ashley was on, grabbing a rectangular object that looked to be folded. "There we go, all clean now. Time to get you dressed for the day. Now, do you want to wear the princesses or the flowers, deary?" The mannequin was holding two diapers, both in bright pink. Ashley started to scream. "No! No! No! You can't do this! I don't want to wear a diaper! No!" She screamed, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "Calm down, sweetie. You'll be able to get back to playing in no time." The mannequin placed the pink flower diaper on the shelf below, setting it aside for another time. "We'll go with princesses today for the little princess who played dress up." The mannequin unfolded the diaper and lifted Ashley's legs up to slide the diaper under her bare butt. Ashley's eyes flooded with tears. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman getting put in a diaper. Every second felt painstakingly slow. She felt the mannequin lower her back onto the diaper. It was shockingly soft, softer than she would have expected. The mannequin pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her privates. The bulkiness of the material was hard to ignore. Finally, it reached to the side to grab the tape and, one by one, taped the diaper around her waist. "There we go, nice fresh diaper for the little miss. I got the perfect outfit for you, too." The mannequin cooed lovingly as if it was playing dress-up with a doll. "Here we are!" It held out a bright pink frilly dress romper. It had a zipper at the back, making it hard for little ones to remove it independently. The mannequin slid the romper up Ashley's legs, getting her feet through the leg holes, pulling up as far as it could with her still lying down. It then unbuckled her, standing her up, placing her arms through the arm holes, and finally zippering up the back to hold it all in place. "Don't you look pretty?" The mannequin smiled with a genuine smile of satisfaction at how cute she looked. Steve had a clear line of sight to Ashley; she looked just like a toddler, and even her chest looked flat in that dress. "No!" Steve shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I won't let you do this to us! We're not children! We're adults, damn it!" The mannequin's painted lips twisted into a scowl at Steve's outburst, its eyes narrowing with displeasure. With a slow, deliberate movement, it turned its head away from Ashley, whose eyes were filled with terror at the sight of the mannequin's face. Slowly, it turned its head towards Steve, its expression morphing into a grotesque visage that sent shivers down his spine. "Young man, we do not use such language in this daycare," the mannequin's voice rang out, icy and menacing. "You must learn to behave yourself. Such attitudes will not be tolerated." Before Steve could react, the mannequin twisted its body and charged toward him with surprising speed, its movements unnaturally swift. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impact, his mind racing with fear and desperation. The mannequin's cold hands closed around him. With a sudden, violent motion, the mannequin lifted Steve into the air, its grip unyielding. Steve struggled against its hold, his muscles straining with effort, but it was futile. The mannequin's strength was beyond human, its power seemingly limitless. As Steve dangled in the air, his mind raced with fear and desperation. He cast a frantic glance towards Ashley, his eyes pleading for her help. But Ashley could only watch helplessly, her heart pounding in her chest. Thinking fast, Steve seized the opportunity to act. With a quick, desperate motion, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, his fingers closing around the familiar device. With a swift motion, he hurled it towards Ashley. Ashley's eyes widened in surprise as she caught the phone, her fingers trembling with adrenaline. She tucked it into the front of her dress, securely held in place between the soft fabric and her squished chest, concealing it from view. Her heart raced with hope as she realized they might have a chance to escape this nightmare after all. As Ashley quickly jumped off the changing table, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the frilly fabric of the romper swish around her legs with each step. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, the soft material tickling her skin. But there was no time to dwell on her discomfort; Steve's safety was her top priority. With determination blazing in her eyes, Ashley sprinted towards Steve, her feet stumbling slightly on the unfamiliar terrain of the daycare floor. Every movement felt exaggerated in the oversized romper, the ruffles bouncing with each step. As she neared, she could see the fear etched on Steve's face, his eyes pleading for her help. Without hesitation, she raised her foot and delivered a swift, powerful kick to the back of the mannequin's knee. The impact sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg, but she ignored it, focusing all her strength on the task at hand. The mannequin let out a mechanical groan as its artificial joints buckled beneath the force of Ashley's blow. It stumbled forward, its grip on Steve loosening as it struggled to maintain its balance. For a brief moment, it teetered on the brink of collapse, its plastic limbs flailing wildly as it fought to regain its footing. Seizing the opportunity, Steve wriggled free from the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stumbled backward, his limbs trembling with exertion. He cast a grateful glance towards Ashley, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Together, they watched as the mannequin stumbled forward, its balance precarious. The mannequin teetered on the brink of falling, its arms flailing wildly. Steve and Ashley exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the daycare. Behind them, the mannequin let out a mechanical screech of rage, its eyes glowing with malevolent fury as it gave chase. The world around them had warped again, back to its abandoned state, the facade of the daycare gone. Terrified, Steve and Ashley refused to look back. As Ashley and Steve descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, a sense of urgency gripped them. They dared a quick glance back and saw the mannequin, now moving on all fours with unnerving speed, closing the distance between them. Panic surged through their veins, propelling them forward faster. But in their haste, they failed to watch their surroundings. Without warning, they collided with something solid, sending them both sprawling to the ground. As they recovered from the impact and looked up, they were met with the sight of another mannequin, different from the menacing one chasing them. This mannequin had a soft, caring smile, its eyes filled with warmth and understanding. It seemed to radiate a sense of calm amidst the chaos surrounding them. The daycare around them had transformed once again, returning to its pristine state, as if nothing had happened. As the new mannequin approached, its soft, caring smile seemed to put Ashley and Steve at ease, despite their recent ordeal. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes flickering between the two mannequins, unsure of what to expect. "It looks like we've had some runaways," the new mannequin said with a chuckle, its voice soothing and gentle. It then turned, looking back upstairs to the other mannequin. "Are you alright, Nyxara?" Nyxara, the once-menacing mannequin at the top of the stairs, now stood in its pristine form, its grotesque and menacing presence seemingly erased. It smiled warmly down at the new mannequin, its eyes filled with a sense of relief. "Yes, I'm alright, Elysia," Nyxara replied, her voice now calm and reassuring. "Thank you for the assistance. These two are a bit more... rowdy." Elysia knelt down in front of Steve and Ashley, her expression kind and gentle. "You two shouldn't run off like that," she said softly. "You could get hurt. But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to keep you safe and entertained until your mommies and daddies come back to pick you up." Steve and Ashley exchanged a puzzled glance. "Mommy and Daddy?" Steve repeated, his voice tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not children," Steve protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "We're adults. We don't need babysitters." Elysia giggled at Steve's protest, her smile never faltering. "Oh, sweetie, you only think you're an adult because of playing dress-up," she said gently. "But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to take care of you now. It's time to change back into your proper clothes." Elysia picked Steve up, cradling him in her arms as she headed back upstairs. Steve struggled against her hold, his protests growing louder. "No, let me go! I'm not a child!" he cried, his voice filled with frustration and fear. Nyxara descended the stairs. Her gaze fell upon Ashley, who stood frozen in fear. Her heart sank. She watched in despair as the figure approached, its arms outstretched, ready to pick her up. Ashley instinctively stepped back, her eyes pleading for mercy, but it's expression remained unchanged, it's smile warm but unwavering. With a gentle yet firm grip, the monster like creature scooped Ashley into its arms, her touch surprisingly warm for a mannequin. Ashley's heart raced as she was carried away. She looked over her captor's shoulder, locking eyes with Steve, who was now in Elysia's care, being comforted in a way that made him feel embarrassed and frustrated. They reached out to each other, their hands stretching towards one another, but the distance between them grew with each passing step. Steve's protests grew louder as Elysia cooed soothing words to him, attempting to calm his fears. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Elysia murmured, rocking Steve gently in her arms. "There's no need to cry. I'm here to take care of you." Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being treated like a baby. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying his facade of maturity. As Nyxara carried Ashley away, her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the daycare. She reached out desperately towards Steve, but he was already out of sight. Hearing the girl's cry about losing her friend she was playing dress-up with. Nyxara reassured the girl. "There, there, dear," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't cry. You'll see your friend again soon. But for now, let's go play with the other kids, shall we?" An innocent smile full of warmth grew on her face, feeling as if she was doing a good job taking care of the latest additions to the daycare. Chapter 3: Newfound Friends As Ashley was carried away, her mind raced with fear and confusion. She struggled against the mannequin's grip, but it was futile. She felt helpless, at the mercy of these strange and otherworldly beings. Nyxara held Ashley tightly as she stepped down the corridors of the daycare, eventually arriving at a brightly lit room filled with toys and games. Ashley's eyes widened in wonder and confusion as she took in her surroundings. The room seemed frozen in time, as if it was newly constructed or renovated, pristine in every aspect. As Nyxara gently set Ashley down on the floor, Ashley's eyes widened in shock as her gaze fell upon two figures sitting in the corner of the room. One was a woman who looked younger than herself, with long brown hair and a worried expression. The other was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance and a look of resignation in his eyes. Both were the same small size as her and Steve, smaller than any average adult could be. Ashley approached them cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked panicly "Do you know where that thing took Steve? Do you know a way out?" The young woman and the man exchanged glances before shaking their heads. They remained silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the door. It was as if they were afraid to speak, as if there would be consequences. Frustrated by their silence, Ashley pressed on. "Please, you have to tell me something," she pleaded. "We need to find a way out of here. Do you know anything about this place? Who are those mannequins? What do they want with us?" They both remained silent, but the man slowly reached out and picked up a few toy blocks. With a deliberate motion, he arranged them on the floor to spell out two words: S-H-U-T U-P. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Was he trying to warn her? Was he telling her to stop asking questions? Before she could react, Nyxara approached, her expression stern. "It's not polite to ask too many questions," Nyxara scolded gently, her tone surprisingly motherly. "We're here to play and have fun. Isn't that right, Kelly, Nick?" Kelly and Nick nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mixture of fear and acceptance. It was clear that they were afraid of Nyxara and what she might do if they disobeyed. Feeling defeated, Ashley backed away, her mind racing with unanswered questions. She glanced back towards the stairs, where Steve had disappeared, and felt a pang of sadness and longing. They were trapped in this nightmarish daycare, at the mercy of forces they couldn't understand or control. Ashley's heart raced as she looked back towards the man, who had spelled out "Shut up" with the toy blocks just moments ago. With trembling hands, she picked up the blocks and arranged them to spell out her name: A-S-H-L-E-Y. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as he read her name spelled out in the blocks. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rearranging the blocks to form his name: N-I-C-K Relief flooded through Ashley as she realized she had made a connection with one of the other trapped individuals. She felt a glimmer of hope that Nick might have some answers or insights into their situation. Gathering her courage, she formed another question with the blocks: W-H-E-R-E S-T-E-V-E. Nick's brow furrowed in concentration as he rearranged the blocks once more. With painstaking effort, he spelled out: M-O-T-H-E-R U-P-S-T-A-I-R-S. Ashley's stomach churned with unease at the mention of Steve being with the mannequin upstairs. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since they arrived at the daycare. What was happening to Steve? Was he safe? And what did Nick mean by "mother"? Before Ashley could ask any of her questions, Nick hurriedly scrambled the blocks, erasing the words he had just spelled out, as the mannequin approached to check on them. Nyxara's expression softened as she observed the trio, a smile playing on her lips. "It warms my heart to see you all getting along," Nyxara said, her voice tinged with an eerie sweetness. "Isn't it wonderful to have friends to play with?" Ashley forced a smile, nodding weakly as she tried to suppress the rising anger within her. Luckily the mannequin didn't stick around, it was satisfied at their nods. Ashley glanced at the young woman sitting in the corner, who was curiously watching them. Feeling a sense of determination, Ashley approached the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi, I'm Ashley," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hesitantly reached for the toy blocks scattered on the floor. With trembling hands, she arranged the blocks to spell out her name: K-E-L-L-Y. "Kelly," Ashley repeated, nodding in acknowledgment. "Do you know anything about this place? How did you end up here?" Kelly's expression grew somber as she shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. She seemed reluctant to speak, as if afraid of what might happen if she spoke too much. "Alright kiddies, you be good, I'm only going to be a minute." the menacing mannequin smiled, looking at the three of them in the corner. "It's snack time, and I bet you all are getting hungry" as it left the room to fetch snacks, Nick and Kelly leaned in close to Ashley, speaking in hushed whispers. "We don't have much time," Nick said, his voice urgent. "We need to be careful. Nyxara is very easy to anger. She's the one who decides when we get punished, and trust me, the simplest of things can set her off." "How long have you been here?" Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nick glanced around nervously before replying, "I've lost track of time, but I think it's been about ten years. Kelly here has been here for a few weeks, I think." Kelly nodded, confirming Nick's words. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks. I... I don't know how much longer I can take this." "What do they want with us?" Ashley whispered, her voice trembling with fear at the realization that someone had been here for so long already. What hopes do they have to escape if someone who's been here ten years still hasn't found a way out? Nick glanced towards the door once more before answering. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I've seen what happens to those who disobey. It's not pretty. We have to follow their rules if we want to survive." "What rules?" Ashley asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do we need to do to survive?" Nick continued to glance around nervously before answering each question. "First, we need to play along. Act like children, do what they say, and don't ask too many questions. Second, don't try to leave the daycare. The doors are locked, and if Nyxara catches you trying to escape... She'll punish you." Kelly added, "And whatever you do, don't anger Elysia. She's the other mannequin, the one who acts like a mother to us. She can be kind, but if she thinks you're a threat to the 'children,' she'll become... violent. That's how we lost David." Her eyes trailed off, a look of pure terror at whatever had taken place. Ashley's head spun with the weight of this new information. She had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. "What about Steve?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he in danger?" Before they could discuss further, Nyxara returned with a tray of snacks. She set it down in front of them, her smile bright and unnerving. "Here you go, my little ones," she said sweetly. "Enjoy your snacks, and remember to behave." Nick, with a forced smile plastered on his face, musters up a small voice, "Th-thank you, Miss Nyxara, for the snacks." He mimics the behavior of a grateful child, hoping to appease the unsettling presence before them. Kelly and Ashley remain silent, their expressions a mix of apprehension and obedience. Nyxara's smile widens at Nick's words, her eyes gleaming with an eerie delight. "You're welcome, sweetie," she coos, her tone saccharine yet tinged with an underlying threat. With a final glance at the trio, she turns and leaves to check on Steve, Nick leaned in closer to Ashley, his expression grave. "We need to be careful," Nick whispered urgently. "Elysia is different from Nyxara. She's... she's more motherly, but her love can be suffocating. She wants us to be her children and will do anything to she can to mother us, even if that means..." Nick's voice trailed off, but Ashley understood the implication. Elysia's protection could easily turn into possessiveness and violence. Just then, the door creaked open, and Steve was brought in by Elysia. His clothes had changed, now fitting for a toddler, and his expression was filled with concern. Ashley's heart sank at the sight of him, wondering what horrors he had endured. Steve glanced around the room, his eyes widening in shock as they landed on Ashley and the other two. He tried to speak, but he lost his words, realizing the mannequin was still there. Ashley rushed to his side, embracing him tightly, trying to offer him some comfort in this terrifying situation. "What... what is going on? Who are they?" Steve managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with fear. Ashley quickly explained what she had learned about the daycare from Nick. The little bit she learned about the two mannequins Nyxara, and Elysia, emphasizing the need to play along and not provoke the mannequins. Steve listened intently, his expression filled with disbelief and horror. As Ashley held Steve tightly, her mind raced with concern and questions. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he had seen or experienced since they were separated. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fear and embarrassment reflected in them. "What happened to you, Steve?" Ashley whispered, her voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" Steve shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "It's... it's basically the same thing that happened to you." Ashley felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how humiliating and degrading their experiences had been, forced to dress like toddlers, and placed in a diaper. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve's voice trembled as he looked into Ashley's eyes, desperation evident in his gaze. "Ashley, do you still have my phone?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their dire situation. Both Kelly and Nick's eyes widened at the question, their expressions mirroring Steve's hope. Ashley's mind raced as she remembered the phone tucked away in her dress, pinned to her chest between her breasts. She had completely forgotten about it in the chaos of their situation. "Yes, I still have it!" Ashley exclaimed, relief flooding through her. Steve's eyes lit up with hope. Ashley went to reach into her dress for it but stopped seeing Nick and Kelly looking at her. Feeling embarrassed, she turned around so her back faced them, providing a little privacy as she retrieved the phone from her dress. She handed it over to Steve so he could unlock his phone. Praying that there is a signal. They got into this whole mess because there wasn't any reception. What would be the odds of them having a signal now, of all times? The group huddled together, their hearts racing with a newfound hope as Steve unlocked his phone and discovered a single little bar. Each of them voiced their opinions on who Steve should contact for help. "We should call the police," Nick suggested, his voice filled with urgency. "They can come and rescue us from this nightmare." Ashley shook her head, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "If we place a call they'll notice right away," she whispered. "We can't lose our chance if it catches us before we make contact." Steve furrowed his brow in thought, weighing their options carefully. "What about your sister, Sarah?" he suggested, turning to Ashley. "She might be able to help us without alerting anyone else." Ashley's eyes widened in realization. "That's a good idea," she said, agreeing. "Sarah knows about our trip and could come looking for us if we don't show up. Plus, she's close by and won't attract too much attention." With their decision made, Steve quickly drafted a distress message to Sarah, explaining their situation in as much detail as possible without trying to sound too crazy by revealing too much about the supernatural elements of their predicament. They debated the wording, making sure to convey the urgency of their situation on how they have been effectively kidnapped, and are being held hostage with no way of escape or being able to contact the athorities. But before they could hit send, a shadow began to loom over them. Nyxara's voice filled the room, her tone laced with anger and suspicion. "What are you kids up to?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phone in Steve's hand. "What are you doing with that?" Nyxara demanded, her voice cold and menacing. "You know you're not allowed to have that. Give it to me, now." Steve hesitated, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew they couldn't let Nyxara take it, but he also knew that defying her would have consequences. Before he could make a decision, Nyxara lunged forward, grabbing for the phone. Steve and Ashley struggled to keep it out of her reach, but Nyxara was too strong. With a swift motion, she snatched the phone from Steve's hand. "You disobedient children," Nyxara scolded, her voice filled with anger. "You know the rules. No phones. Those are for adults only!" You'll both be punished for this." Steve and Ashley exchanged worried glances, seeing the mannequin's face warp along with the daycare. Realizing they had just made a dangerous enemy. They knew they would have to be more careful than ever if they wanted to escape the daycare and survive. Before Steve could even formulate a response, Elysia intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped forward to defend the frightened group of "children." "Now, now, Nyxara," Elysia interjected, her tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps they were simply trying to decide what to do with the phone. After all, they are just children, and it's natural for them to be curious." Nyxara's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced by Elysia's defense of the children. However, after a moment of tense silence, she seemed to relent. With a final glare at Steve and Ashley, she turned and headed upstairs, taking the phone with her. Steve and Ashley let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Elysia's intervention. However, they knew they had narrowly avoided a dangerous situation. They needed to be more cautious. Nick, seeing an opportunity to gain favor, turned to Elysia with a forced smile. "Thank you, Miss Elysia," he said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "We'll be sure to behave and not cause any more trouble." Elysia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her tone soothing. "Just remember, we're all here to play and have fun. Now, why don't you all go and enjoy your snacks? I'm sure you must be hungry." Nick nodded obediently, then turned to Ashley and Steve, a look of concern on his face. "Did you manage to send the message?" he asked quietly. Steve shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "No, I couldn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "It took the phone before I could hit send." The whole group hung their head in defeat, now what are they going to do? They slowly began to shuffle their feet over towards the little table that sat in the playroom where their snacks were located. Suddenly, Steve doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach as a sharp pang shot through his abdomen. Ashley's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with worry. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Chapter 4: A Bottle?! *Steve's point of view when they separated* Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in. As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables. Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve refused just to let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child. It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care. With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength. It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner. Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child. Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping. His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay. The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it. The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. Steve's eyes widen in worry. He is lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play with this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy." Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his lactose intolerance, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved. As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will. Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple. With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle. Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him. As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear. Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him. "Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion. Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve. Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children." As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt. Chapter 5: A Messy Situation Steve's face contorted in pain as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ashley's heart raced with worry as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with concern. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?" Steve tried to brush off the issue, but his voice was strained with discomfort. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, his face pale with pain. "It'll probably pass." But the sharp pang in his abdomen refused to be ignored. Steve's attempts to downplay the situation only made Ashley more concerned. She reached out to touch his forehead, checking for signs of fever, but before she could say anything, Elysia approached them, her eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, little one?" Elysia asked, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Steve. "Are you feeling unwell?" Steve winced as Elysia's hand touched his forehead, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to pull away, but the figure's other hand shot out and clenched his bicep. She tilted her head, studying him with curiosity and concern. "What did you do to him!?" Ashley interjected, her voice filled with worry and panic. "He was fine before you took him upstairs." Elysia did not regard Ashley's concern, and her expression was sympathetic. "Poor thing," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It must be hard for you, being away from your mommy and daddy." She completely ignored Ashley's questioning. Steve felt frustrated at the creature's words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He didn't want to admit to Ashley that he was fed a bottle like a baby, but he couldn't stand the thought of being talked down like he was a child. He tried to protest, to tell it that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated like one, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded weakly, unable to meet it's gaze. Elysia's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to pat Steve's back, her touch surprisingly comforting despite the circumstances. "There, there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't worry. Elysia is here to take care of you." But as Elysia tried to comfort him, Steve's stomach lurched with increasing intensity, sending waves of nausea coursing through his body. He gasped in pain, his face contorted with discomfort as he struggled to hold back the building pressure in his bowels. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Steve managed to stammered out, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, I need to go..." But Elysia seemed oblivious to Steve's distress, focusing solely on comforting him. She reached out to pick him up, her touch gentle as she lifted him into her arms. Steve's stomach churned with unease as she began to rock him back and forth, her movements only making the pressure in his bowels harder to hold in. "Shh, shh, it's okay, little one," Elysia murmured, her voice soothing yet distant. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." But Steve knew he couldn't wait any longer. The urge to use the bathroom was becoming unbearable. He struggled to break free from Elysia's grasp, his voice trembling with urgency. "I-I need to go," he insisted, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, let me go..." But Elysia seemed unable to understand Steve's words, and her focus was solely on comforting him. Steve's heart sank as he realized he was running out of time. Steve's stomach cramps intensified, and his eyes darted around the room in a panic. He caught sight of the other male in the group, unable to recall his name. His eyes were wide with understanding. Steve knew he must know why Elysia wasn't responding to his pleas. Steve recalled being told that the other man had been here longer; he must have learned how the mannequins responded and worked. But the man said nothing. Steve's desperation grew as he realized he couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to reach out and beg for help, but he hesitated, unsure of what they might do or, more accurately, what they could do. These things were huge in comparison to them. Steve's face twisted in agony as the pressure in his bowels reached its breaking point. With a sickening realization, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. His stomach clenched with a force he couldn't contain, and before he could even register what was happening, he felt the warmth spreading in his diaper. A warm, mushy sensation filled his diaper, the smell hitting him almost instantly. He gasped, mortified, as he accidentally shit himself for the first time since he was a kid. The hot, mushy diarrhea surged forth, filling the confines of his diaper with a sickening squelch. Steve's cheeks burned with humiliation as it was happening, his body betraying him in the most mortifying way possible. He whimpered in shame, unable to stop the humiliating torrent of mess. "O-oh no..." Steve whimpered, his voice filled with shame and embarrassment. He could feel the mess spreading, the diaper growing heavy and uncomfortable against his skin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Elysia, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and horror as she watched Steve's distress unfold before her. The pained expression on his face, coupled with the sickening realization of what was happening, sent a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. She took a step back, her hands instinctively covering her mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief. Kelly, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of concern and fear, recoiled slightly at the smell that filled the air. Her eyes darted between Steve and Ashley, a small look of disgust crossing her features. But beneath the disgust, there was a flicker of embarrassment, a memory resurfacing in her mind. Elysia's gentle teasing cut through the air, her voice light yet mocking. "Oh dear, it seems little Steve had a little accident," she remarked, her tone almost sing-song. "Such a messy little one, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks burned with shame as Elysia's words sank in. He could feel the weight of his messy diaper pressing against him, the warmth and smell serving as a reminder of his humiliating predicament. He wanted to protest, to tell Elysia that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such, but the words caught in his throat. How could he even say that when he was in her arms in a dirty diaper? Elysia's demeanor shifted slightly as she continued to speak, her voice softer yet tinged with authority. "It's alright, little one," she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up and changed. But first, let's get you something to drink and some snacks. That should give you plenty of time to finish anything else still in your belly," she giggled. Steve could only stare at it in disbelief; not only did this thing just force him to shit himself, but it was going to make him stay in it till it deemed he could be changed! His cheeks burned with shame and resentment. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable squishiness of his diaper. But the smell, the warmth, it was all too much. He felt like a helpless child, unable to control his own body. Elysia set him back down on the ground, her touch seemed surprisingly gentle and caring despite the humiliating situation. Steve felt a rush of relief as he was freed from her grasp, but it was short-lived. The reality of his messy diaper felt like a ton of bricks, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Steve's gaze fell on Ashley as his tormentor turned away to attend to something else. Her expression was a mix of shock, disgust, and pity. Steve felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how she must see him now, as a helpless, soiled child. He wanted to explain, to tell her it was because of the milk, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was too embarrassed and in shock to say anything. He stood there in front of the others, feeling utterly humiliated and vulnerable, his mind flooded with embarrassment. His stomach still churned from being forced to consume milk, but now embarrassment added to his discomfort. He desperately wished he could disappear, to escape from this nightmare. But trapped in this bizarre reality, there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from the humiliation. Ashley hovered nearby, her expression torn between concern for Steve and disgust at the situation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him that everything would be alright, but seeing him in a messy diaper was too much to bear. She glanced at Nick and Kelly, silently pleading for some form of understanding or support. Nick's gaze met Ashley's, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. But before she could say anything, the mannequin returned, interrupting the tense silence with her cheerful demeanor. "Alright, little ones, that's enough dilly-dallying. Go eat your snacks." Elysia chirped, her voice bubbly as she set a high chair tray of snacks on the table next to their snacks. "I've got some yummy treats for you all to enjoy." The figure ushered them towards the table. Ashley looked at Steve sympathetically, her heart aching for him. But as they approached the table, her attention was diverted by a bottle of milk sitting next to the highchair. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god," Ashley whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of Elysia bustling around. "Steve, the milk... That's why..." Steve's eyes went wide with horror as he realized there was another bottle of milk. His stomach was still agitated from the first bottle; what would a second one do to his stomach and bowels? The thought of drinking it now, in his current state, filled him with dread and disgust. Especially with others around. He couldn't, not again. But before he could do anything, Elysia approached him with the bottle, her smile bright and cheerful. "Here you go, little one," she said, her voice sweet yet tinged with authority. "A nice bottle of milk to help keep you hydrated. Isn't that nice?" Steve's stomach churned with unease as he stared at the bottle, his mind racing with fear. He wanted to refuse, to push it away, or at least tell them he couldn't drink milk. But the fear of what would happen if he was difficult for them kept him frozen. Until his brain finally kicked back in. Desperate for escape, Steve made a sudden dash towards the door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But before he could reach it, a hand shot out, catching him by the arm with surprising strength. "Uh-uh, little one," Elysia scolded, her voice firm yet gentle. "You know you're not allowed to wander off by yourself. It's not safe. Besides, we need to make your tummy feel better. You need to stay hydrated and drink as much as possible." Steve's heart sank as he realized his escape attempt had failed. He hung his head in defeat as it led him to the highchair, her grip firm. As Steve felt guided towards the highchair, panic surged through his veins. He couldn't bear the thought of being strapped into that humiliating contraption, especially with his messy diaper weighing him down, feeling it slightly sway with each step. His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but the figure's hold on him was unyielding. "No, no, please!" Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He tried to pry its fingers from his arm with his free hand. "I-I don't want to go in there. Please, let me go!" But Elysia remained unmoved; its expression was that of a smiling, authoritative parent dealing with an unruly child. She gently guided Steve towards the highchair, her grip firm. Steve struggled against her grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against the inevitable. Ashley rushed to Steve's side, her hands reaching out to try and pull him away from Elysia. "Let him go!" she demanded, her voice filled with determination. "He can't handle lactose. It will only make him sick!" Ashley's attempt to intervene was met with a sudden and chilling presence. The darker mannequin appeared, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Her eyes glinted with a malevolent gleam as she surveyed the scene, her presence enough to send a shiver down Ashley's spine. "What's going on here?" Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a wave of fear through the group. Everyone quickly averted their gaze from Nyxara's chilling presence, and a tense silence settled over the room. Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, her hands trembling with fear. She knew they were at the mercy of these supernatural entities, and any attempt to defy them could have dire consequences. With a subtle yet commanding gesture from Nyxara, Elysia resumed her task of setting Steve up in the high chair. Steve's heart sank as he was scooped up, realizing there was no escaping his humiliating fate. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as Elysia's firm hold guided him toward the highchair. As he was set in the highchair, he couldn't suppress a whimper of humiliation. The squishy mess in his diaper shifted and spread, the warmth and wetness pressing against him from all sides. He could feel the mess oozing and squelching in ways he never thought possible, air bubbles escaping out the back and sending a sickening sensation down his spine. The smell of his own mess filled the air, a nauseating reminder of his humiliating predicament. Steve's cheeks burned with shame as he realized the others could smell it too, their expressions filled with disgust. He wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare of being trapped in a messy diaper in front of his girlfriend and strangers. But as Elysia secured the straps of the highchair around him, Steve knew there was no escape. He was completely at the mercy of these entities, powerless to resist their commands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head in defeat, the weight of his humiliation crushing down on him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, Ashley watched helplessly from the sidelines, her heart breaking for Steve. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she knew there was nothing she could do. They were all trapped in this bizarre reality, subject to the whims of these otherworldly beings. Steve's heart pounded with fear and desperation as Elysia approached with the bottle. He couldn't bear the thought of drinking the milk, not after what happened last time. With a surge of panic, he reached out to knock the bottle from Elysia's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. The room fell silent as the bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere. Steve's heart raced as he braced himself for the repercussions of his actions. He expected Elysia to scold him, to punish him for his defiance. But what happened next caught him completely off guard. A chill swept through the room as Nyxara's imposing figure stepped forward, her eyes narrowed with a menacing glare. Steve shrank back in his seat, his heart pounding with fear as he met her gaze. He knew he had crossed a line. "Elysia," Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a shiver down Steve's spine. "It seems our little friend here needs a lesson in obedience." Elysia nodded obediently, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. She reached down to retrieve the fallen bottle, her movements deliberate and purposeful. Steve's heart sank as he realized he had sealed his own fate. He had defied the rules of this twisted reality, and now he would have to pay the price. With a sense of dread, Steve watched as Elysia approached once again, the bottle held firmly in her grasp. He wanted to protest, to beg for mercy, but he knew it was futile. Elysia's smile was gone now, replaced by a stern expression as she held out the bottle to Steve. "Drink," she commanded, her voice firm yet cold. Steve hesitated, his hands trembling with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse, not with Nyxara's menacing presence looming over him. With a heavy heart, he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers closing around it with a sense of resignation. But as he brought the bottle to his lips, a wave of defiance surged through him. He couldn't let them break him, not without a fight. With a sudden burst, he threw the bottle aside once again, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Nyxara's eyes narrowed with fury as she watched the bottle clatter to the floor once more. "Enough," she growled, her voice dripping with menace. "You will drink, or you will suffer the consequences." Steve's heart raced as he met Nyxara's glare, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He knew he had pushed his luck too far, but he couldn't bring himself to submit. He refused to be treated like a helpless child, to be forced into submission by these creatures. But before he could muster a response, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him from all sides. He gasped for air, his lungs burning with the effort as he struggled to breathe. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even scream. Nyxara's voice echoed in his mind, cold and commanding. "You will obey," she whispered, her words sending a chill down his spine. "Or you will suffer." Steve's world spun as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive. He tried to fight back, to break free from Nyxara's control, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy, powerless to resist her will. Nyxara claimed the bottle from the floor and forced it back into his grip. With a sense of resignation, Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to drink from the bottle, his throat burning with each swallow. He felt a surge of nausea rise up in his stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering. As he drank, he felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him, like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was losing himself, giving in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. But he couldn't stop, couldn't fight back. He was trapped in this nightmare, powerless to escape. As the last drop of milk slid down his throat, Steve felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He slumped back in his seat, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. He knew he had lost this battle, that Nyxara had won. As darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited him in this twisted realm. Nyxara's gaze shifted to Elysia, her eyes cold and calculating. "Once the children finish with their snacks, bring Steve to me for his punishment," she commanded, her voice dripping with malice. Elysia nodded obediently, its expression devoid of emotion. She turned to Steve, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But you must learn to listen. It's for your own good."

I don't think one is better than the other. Both are equally valid. Personally I don't try to pick a certain age. I'm just me and like whatever I like.

I love wearing my nappy and wetting public. I suppose my level of confidence is quite high but I do get conscious of what I look like. Can the bulk of the nappy be seen, that sort of thing. I wear and use nappies in public just like a baby would and I get a bit of a thrill wetting in public. Not sexual, more naughtiness. I like wetting while standing in a queue or at a counter while talking to someone. Knowing that I am wearing a babyish print nappy and wetting it right then and they don't know is sort of fun. I'm not sure I can really describe the feeling. I am conscious of the possibility of leaks so I have a spare on me and I'll change in the public loos. I have used a baby change facility before and that felt great.

Chapter 4 The morning light filtered through Lucy's curtains, casting a soft glow over her room. She stirred, the events of the previous day slowly piecing together in her waking mind. As consciousness took hold, she felt the diaper, still snug around her, and remembered its transformation during the car ride—how what was initially embarrassing had become soft and comforting. Lucy lay in her bed, pondering her feelings towards the diaper now. The memory of its comfort, the way it had changed from something unfamiliar to a source of security, lingered with her. The initial embarrassment faded into the background, overshadowed by the sense of safety it provided, especially in the loving care of her mother. With these thoughts, Lucy realized she needed to pee. This time, there was no hesitation, no discomfort. She remembered the feeling from the day before and found herself curious to experience that transformation again, from dry and form-fitting to soft and squishy, all while in the privacy of her own bed. So, she relaxed and let go, feeling the diaper absorb the wetness, enveloping her in a familiar comfort. As she lay there, comfortable and content in her bed, Lucy's feelings toward the diaper had shifted. It was no longer just a reminder of an awkward situation or a temporary solution during a long car ride. It had become something that provided her with a sense of security, a peculiar but comforting presence in the aftermath of an eventful day. Later, when Anne came into Lucy's room to wake her up, she found her daughter already awake, bathed in the soft morning light. The quiet of the morning enveloped them as they shared a gentle, sleepy smile. Without a word about the diaper, Anne helped usher Lucy out to breakfast. Breakfast was a cozy affair, with Peter raising his eyebrows slightly at Lucy's attire but choosing to keep his thoughts to himself. The family's morning routine carried on as usual, filled with the simple joys of shared meals and light conversation. After breakfast, Lucy retreated to her room to change. Standing there in her pajamas and diaper, she paused for a moment, considering. The wet diaper, a testament to her newfound comfort and the peculiar security it offered, didn't seem as off-putting as it might have before. With a shrug, she decided to keep it on, slipping into a pair of baggy sweats that easily concealed it and choosing a shirt that matched her casual, carefree mood. Anne, busy with her own morning tasks, didn't notice the choice Lucy had made. When the suggestion of a trip to the park came up, Lucy agreed with a nod, excitement for the day's adventure sparkling in her eyes. The park was a place of endless imagination for Lucy, a canvas for her vibrant creativity to run wild. As they arrived, Lucy ran ahead, her laughter mingling with the sounds of other children playing. Anne watched from a bench, her heart swelling with love for her spirited daughter, unaware of the diaper hidden beneath Lucy's sweats. After playing on the swings and going down the slide, amidst her play and laughter, Lucy felt the familiar urge to pee. Without a second thought, she decided to use the diaper, trusting in the convenience it had provided before. However, since the diaper was already wet from earlier, it couldn't absorb any more, leading to an unexpected leak that stained her sweats with a wet spot. Anne, upon noticing, was taken aback, not only by the sight but by the realization that Lucy had chosen to wear the diaper to the park. Concern mixed with curiosity as she asked Lucy why she had kept it on. Their conversation was gentle, a mother seeking to understand her daughter's feelings and choices. On the way home, Anne's mind was a whirl of thoughts. The surprise had given way to contemplation, considering Lucy's comfort and her unexpected attachment to the diaper. Once home, as Anne helped Lucy get cleaned up, she noticed Lucy's gaze drifting towards the package of diapers, a silent contemplation in her eyes. Anne paused, weighing her next words carefully. The decision to offer Lucy another diaper was fraught with considerations—was it encouraging a step backward in her development, or was it simply providing comfort in an unusual situation? Yet, seeing Lucy's quiet interest in the diapers, Anne recognized a deeper need, perhaps not fully understood even by Lucy herself. With a deep breath, Anne decided to bridge the gap with understanding and support. "Lucy, if you're curious or find comfort in wearing a diaper for now, it's okay. We can talk about what makes you feel safe and comfortable," Anne offered, her voice soft and devoid of judgment. It was an invitation for Lucy to express her feelings, to share the thoughts that had led her to make the choice she did. As she stood there, freshly cleaned and pondering her next steps, Lucy's eyes lingered on the package of diapers. The desire to wear another was a whisper in her heart, a gentle nudge towards a comfort she couldn't fully explain. Yet, the thought of voicing this wish, of articulating a need that even she didn't fully understand, was a mountain too steep to climb. The fear of misunderstanding, of raising questions she couldn't answer, held her back. Her mom's words, soft and inviting, floated through the air, a bridge over the chasm of her hesitations. Lucy sensed the openness, the unconditional support that had always been the foundation of their relationship. Still, the words to express her desire seemed to dance just out of reach, a melody she couldn't quite capture. The room was filled with a silent understanding, a shared space where words were unnecessary, yet the need for them was palpable. Lucy grappled with her reluctance, the internal tug-of-war between her longing for comfort and the fear of judgment. In the end, it was the gentle nudge of love, the subtle encouragement from her mom, that coaxed the words from her heart. "Mom, can I... would it be okay if I wore another diaper?" The question, soft and tentative, was a leap of faith, a trust in the bond that had always held them together. Lucy's request hung in the air, a fragile bubble of hope. The weight of her admission was met with a warmth that wrapped around her, a reassurance that her feelings, however unconventional, were heard and honored. In this moment, Lucy realized that the journey to understanding oneself is filled with unexpected detours, but with love and support, every step is a step forward. As her mom smiled and nodded, Lucy felt a wave of relief wash over her. The decision to wear another diaper was no longer a source of anxiety but a step towards embracing her own needs and comforts. In her mom's acceptance, Lucy found the courage to explore her feelings, to accept the comfort offered without the burden of judgment. As Anne gently laid out a fresh diaper, the room was filled with a quiet tenderness, a sacred space where mother and daughter navigated the intricate dance of understanding and acceptance. Lucy watched, her emotions a complex tapestry of relief, gratitude, and a lingering trace of uncertainty. She stood there, vulnerable yet comforted by the unwavering support that enveloped her like a warm embrace. Anne's hands were steady and careful, her movements practiced yet filled with an emotion that transcended the simplicity of the task. As she prepared to diaper Lucy, her eyes met her daughter's, conveying a depth of love and reassurance. This was more than just a physical act of care; it was a testament to the unspoken bond between them, a moment of connection forged in the acceptance of Lucy's needs. Lucy, sensing the profound love in her mother's actions, felt a wave of emotions crash over her. The embarrassment that had shadowed her request dissipated, replaced by a profound sense of being understood, of being seen for who she was and not judged for her desires. The vulnerability of the situation, rather than making her feel exposed, served to strengthen the trust and closeness she shared with her mom. As Anne gently lifted Lucy, positioning the diaper beneath her, there was a mutual respect in their silence, a recognition of the bravery it took for Lucy to express her needs and for Anne to respond with such grace and compassion. Anne's fingers worked with care, securing the diaper, each motion imbued with love and a silent promise of support, whatever the future might hold. The room was charged with a gentle energy, a blend of Anne's pride in her daughter's honesty and Lucy's relief at being accepted unconditionally. There was a beauty in this shared vulnerability, a reminder that sometimes, strength is found in the moments we least expect, in the willingness to show our true selves to those we love. After securing the diaper around Lucy, Anne helped her to her feet with a gentle touch, her actions wrapped in the same tenderness that had defined their earlier moments. Instead of grabbing clothes for Lucy, Anne scooped her up in her arms, carrying her towards the family room as if Lucy were lighter than air, her feet dangling playfully. Lucy, caught off guard by the deviation from their usual routine, looked up at her mom with a flicker of surprise. Anne, sensing her daughter's curiosity, smiled down at her. "You know, these diapers fit you perfectly. You make an excellent diaper model," she said, her voice laced with warmth and a hint of playfulness. The mention of modeling and the photo shoot from the day before ignited a spark in Lucy's eyes. The memories of the audition, of being in front of the camera and the encouraging words from the director, came flooding back, bringing with them a wave of excitement and pride. The uncomfortable moments faded into the background, overshadowed by the joy and the novelty of the experience. Lucy's initial surprise morphed into a delighted grin, her earlier hesitations melting away under her mom's affectionate gaze. The living room, a familiar space filled with the comfort of home, suddenly felt like a stage, a place where Lucy could relive the thrill of her audition. Anne set Lucy down on the soft rug, watching as her daughter's imagination took flight, transforming the room into her own personal photoshoot. Lucy's movements were spontaneous, a dance of joy and freedom, her laughter echoing through the room. This impromptu moment, sparked by Anne's playful comment, became a celebration of Lucy's newfound confidence, a testament to her ability to find joy in the unexpected. For Anne, watching her daughter embrace her individuality with such enthusiasm was a heartwarming reminder of the importance of supporting Lucy's journey, of nurturing her spirit in every way possible. The family room, filled with the soft afternoon light, was a canvas for Lucy's imagination, a space where she felt loved, accepted, and free to be herself. In this shared experience, the bond between mother and daughter was strengthened, a beautiful blend of support, acceptance, and unconditional love that would guide them through whatever adventures lay ahead. — After tucking Lucy into bed that night, Anne and Peter retreated to the living room, the soft hum of the house around them offering a backdrop to their conversation. The day’s events, particularly Lucy’s unexpected request to wear a diaper again, hung between them, a puzzle they sought to understand together. Peter broke the silence first, his voice thoughtful. "Do you think she wanted to wear the diaper because it reminded her of the audition? Maybe it made her feel special, like she was still part of that exciting world." Anne nodded, considering his words. "It could be. She seemed to really light up when we talked about her being a great diaper model. And she definitely enjoyed the attention and the care, it made her feel safe and loved." She paused, her mind wandering to Lucy's small stature, how it had opened the door to this unique opportunity in the first place. "The director did mention how she looks much younger than she is," Anne added, her tone shifting as a new thought took hold. "Maybe there are more opportunities out there for her in acting or modeling. Opportunities where her size is an advantage, not something that makes her different from her peers." Peter leaned back, mulling over the idea. "It's worth exploring," he said slowly. "If she enjoys it, and it's something that could build her confidence, why not? It could be a great way for her to understand that being small, looking young, can be her strength in certain situations." They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought about the possibilities that lay ahead for Lucy. The conversation had started with trying to understand Lucy's actions, but it had blossomed into a discussion about her future, about nurturing her unique qualities in a way that celebrated them. "Let's keep talking to her about it, see how she feels," Anne suggested. "And maybe start looking into other auditions or modeling gigs. If she's interested, it could be a fun adventure for her, something where she can shine just as she is." Peter agreed, his expression softening at the thought of their daughter finding joy and success in her own way. The night grew deep around them, but the conversation had lit a spark, a shared hope for Lucy's future, and a commitment to support her, to help her navigate the world with confidence, embracing who she was, every unique part of her.

Hey everyone! Sorry about the later posting than I was expecting originally. I was all set to edit this chapter last night, but then an emergency came up and I had to push it after my busy day today. Should be able to pop several more of these chapters out this week, so stay tuned. As promised, located next are the two ideas for the story after this one. I usually will give three options, but these were too close to call last time, so just let me know which of them you all would prefer for what I write next. If they are nearly tied again though, I will take the runner-up and add it to my next poll with already some backing behind it. Bethany Set as a semi-sequel to The Opening, follow former drug runner, Bethany, as she strives to find herself a better life that has been promised in the newly discovered dimension, tentatively called, ‘The Amazon Dimension,’ though some have begun calling it another name due to the ever-increasing rumors of something awaiting all portal Littles on the other side. Join Bethany as she looks to turn her life around there and maybe even find a redemption of sorts and something else in the most unexpected of ways. Watch out though, in this new world, new and even greater dangers than the ones she left lurk around every corner. Tell Me More Sequel With this shorter story, continue with Dr. Trisha Mengell from Tell Me More as she dives further into the lives of her patients following the FOY incident over a year ago now. All seems as well as can be with her various Little patients until she notices a frightening pattern begins to develop over time during each session. While it could be nothing and just a fluke in the city or her patient’s mind’s turning softer and more imaginative, follow the good doctor as she explores the truth behind what she might suspect within the very system that she herself is a part of. Moving forward, I will be trying to post as much as I can, barring any emergencies that happen to crop up. My goal is to try and finish this story before the end of the month and try to go quickly with my next one as well so that I don’t have another break coming up next month right in the middle of my story. It’s not the worst, but it’s a big pause that I would like to avoid if all possible. Fingers crossed, but I will let you all know here if anything changes with this plan. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 2: Being a Little Can Be So Complicated Sometimes William Shakespeare once wrote that ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ Well, I highly doubt that old Billy ever came to this dimension or spent time in a Little’s foster home facility before, but I have to imagine that he experienced at least the next worst thing. See, Nancy and I talked for a long while, but being a shivering Little who’s been bruised and had their clothing ripped into who is also seated between two major players in dealing with Littles, I had no chance of escape it turned out. So, the police had taken me in, but Nancy had essentially assigned herself to me to be my proverbial guardian angel. I don’t even think they believe in that type of stuff here, but she made sure that I was treated well and at least sent to a nice foster home until further plans could be made for me. I wanted to be grateful that I hadn’t ended up worse, like I had heard happened to so many others, but my times at the foster home were trying to say the least. Despite the fact that it was determined and pushed by Nancy that I would be treated ‘older’ amongst the other Littles, I later realized that age is pretty much all relative here when it came to the treatment of my kind in this society. My current multi-colored and star-adorned white training panties, green tights, black Velcro shoes, and cotton dress with the words ‘super awesome’ did little to assuage me that I was really the ‘big girl’ others claimed I was. I suppose, now looking around the room once again to ground myself in my new reality, that things could always be worse. After all, I was wearing leg coverings of some kind, I could walk around, and above all, I wasn’t wearing diapers. Training panties were no picnic, but I knew the same qualities I took pride in that I still had, could not be said for some of my fellow foster Littles. So, since I had gotten here late that night and was given my intro bag for ‘big girls,’ I had been assigned to the older of the three levels assigned to us Littles. Currently, I was the only one up here in the oldest of the rooms, but I was assured by Mrs. Tatum, the supervisor foster mom here, that it wouldn’t stay that way forever. That was two weeks ago, and I quickly realized that being untouched or at least considered a ‘big girl’ around here was pretty rare. Most who came were assigned to one of the lower rooms. It was lonely existence most days, but fortunately, I just busied myself in reading. Mrs. Tatum had a wonderful library, and though most seemed to cater toward the belittlement of Littles in some form or fashion, they still provided me with a way of passing the time. I had already breezed through about six of them, and it would have been more if not for a certain task I was asked to provide, even right now by a few of the other Littles here. See, Mrs. Tatum was only one woman. While her daughter helped during some afternoons, nights, and at least part of the weekend, the other times she had to rely on government-provided volunteers. Seeing I was a teacher and avid reader though, I was gingerly asked if I could provide story time to the other Littles here to give the Bigs at least some free time. Feeling an underlying tension and authority just swell around the kindly but intimidating Big, I accepted my new role. “Miss Emily! Miss Emily!” Taylor, one of the mildly regressed Littles shouted as he pulled on the hem of my dress to get my attention as I had previously buried my head in a book. I gently flopped the book to my chest and peered over at the early 20-something Little now before me. His midsection bulged in a way that could only mean one thing and he was constantly sucking on his fingers when not yelling, laughing, or getting my attention, but he was still okay by me. “Yes, Taylor?” I asked, almost having to distance myself with the other Littles and treat them like the toddlers or babies they often acted like. “Wead to us?” he begged, his eyes bulging practically with tears. He had gotten good at trying to convince me to play with him and his friends, or like now, read to them. Very good. I rolled my eyes and groaned a little bit, having just stopped in the middle of the climax of my own story, but I knew the concept of waiting wasn’t big on most of the Littles here, so I sighed and set my book down. “Okay, but just one for now though, okay? I know it’s nearly naptime and Mrs. Tatum wants you all to get at least one nap in this afternoon.” “Awww!” he said in frustration, going as far as to even smack his foot on the ground. I then stood up and while we almost stood eye to eye, something about the loss of height for some Littles coming through the portal still and his mentality, I could feel him shrink under my watch. It was disheartening to see the former marketing major college student behave in such a way, but after one Big commented on how cute it was that I was playing with the babies one day, I felt the more separation between us, the better off I would be at least. “You know the rules, Taylor. I don’t make them, but just try and be good for me. Can you be a big boy and do that for me?” I then played along with his little game of conspiracies of Bigs everywhere and looked around to see if anyone was listening in before I then leaned over to him and whispered. “I even heard there might be a treat for some of you all if you were behaved today…” His facial features immediately became shocked, and his body went rigid like he was some soldier on parade. I half expected him to salute me right then. “Oh! I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I pwomise!” With that, he then speedily took off back to his level’s playroom, where I knew the rest would be waiting as well. I of course was stretching the truth a tad, just to keep him and the others in line, but given Mrs. Tatum and the way she cared about those under her watch, I highly doubted that there wouldn’t be a treat of some kind tonight. Taylor and the others didn’t need to know that it really wasn’t contingent on their behavior for me during story time. It could’ve been bad if they ever caught on, but for a few moments each time I reminded them, I knew each of the Littles I was about to confront during story time would be on their best behavior, just like always. So, I sighed and went downstairs to the toddler level room. Mrs. Tatum had converted it and the other floors for us Littles into three parts. They were comprised of a single large room and bathroom beyond the hallway outside of them that contained the staircase between levels. This way, the door could be closed to each room easily to allow for naptimes but still have a wide-open space inside for playtime or sleeping when the time was right. Now, when I walked in, each of the Littles were messing around with their own toys, playing make believe, or coloring. As soon as I stepped beyond the threshold though, the six Littles in the room immediately swarmed me. “Woah! Easy there, you all!” I panicked slightly as each tried to climb up on me as if they were really children and I was the adult in this society they thought I was, rather than just everyone here being an adult. Still, despite my outfit and the bruises I was sure to get by tonight, it was nice that I was able to feel mature for one single moment around here. When a Little nearly headbutted me though, I had to put my foot down. “Floor now, or no desert tonight!” A series of gasps flooded the room and every Little hit the floor as if someone had just announced there was an incoming mortar strike. One of the Littles, Justin, quickly looked up at me with wide eyes. “Pwease, Miss Em. We be good. Wight?” he asked as he turned around and asked his fellow Littles. Most nodded right away. Satisfied, he turned back to me and gave me the biggest pleading face I had seen yet here. “Pwease still wead to us?” I chuckled a little at the sight before me. “Oh, alright. I can’t say no to that face, but I need everyone to be on their best behavior, okay?” Each of the Littles before me nodded once again and I took my seat over on the rocking chair in the corner of the room by the shelf of books. Of course, the wood and blue chair showed me just how I small I really was in this world, but only people like me or the Bigs here could sit in it. So, to most everyone else here, it was practically my throne and I smiled as my subjects gathered before me. “Okay… which book did you all want to listen to today?” Each Little started sputtering several titles all at once to me, but I looked over the room and when I saw that Izzy was raising her hand, I raised my hand to quiet the room and then chose her. “Me?” she asked nervously. I nodded. “Yes, Izzy. I chose you today. What do you want me to read aloud today, huh?” The Little scanned the books still not picked off up the floor and then to the ones on the bookshelf. I could see she was struggling to see, or maybe even to read them, and I almost offered to help her out, knowing full well that many Littles sadly lost their ability to read, but she then piped back up. “Uh, can you read If You Give an Alces a Koulouri?” I smiled and nodded. It was quickly becoming one of my favorites to read aloud, as not only was it silly and therefore entertaining to the Littles before me, but because it largely dealt with animals, it was one of the few that didn’t put us Littles down or just outright praise the Bigs. So, smiling, I picked up the book from nearby and opened it to the first page. “Can everyone see?” I saw every Little enthusiastically nod their heads. “Okay…” I then looked to the first page and began. “If you give an alces a koulouri…” I lingered on the page for a moment so everyone could see the moose-like creature on the first page, but using my experience in reading to kids, which is practically most of them were mentally, I then flipped to the next page. “Then he’ll want some cream cheese to go along with it.” A few of the Littles giggled at the humorous imagery and I continued on, knowing that I had them hooked now. Several pages later, filled with the alces ending up with a bunch of koulouris on their wide antlers, and then one more book after that by popular demand, I could see that many of the Littles were already starting to nod off. I still finished the last book, but as soon as I closed the page, I saw a smiling Mrs. Tatum standing nearby. “Thank you, Emily. I think you might just have the magic touch.” I blushed a little at the praise, but I was just glad it was something positive said about me. “Maybe, but I think everyone was tired from the outing in the park earlier today. That really seems to do the trick.” Mrs. Tatum smiled and entered the room fully while two of her volunteers came in behind her. One was a Middle and the other was a Big. I got the distinct opinion that both minded my presence here, but both also took advantage of their time off when I read any of the stories aloud and distracted my fellow Littles. Sensing that it was now naptime, I soon exited the room. Before I did though, Mrs. Tatum gently and briefly paused me. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a nap as well? Might feel nice.” I hated her persistent question, despite the fact that I was a little tired. The problem was though, I knew it was a loaded question. While I waited for a new passport or for the local government to determine what should be done with me, I had to wait here under the watchful eye of Mrs. Tatum. She was a lovely woman, but she was still a Big and given what I had already experienced, I felt that my maturity was already on the line in this house. My training panties were evidence enough of that. So, I quickly shook my head. “No, thank you though. I might rest a bit upstairs or just get a little more reading in.” Mrs. Tatum nodded but one of the other volunteers briefly scoffed. I ignored it and Mrs. Tatum probably just chalked it up to her now having to deal with a dirty diaper. It was just life around here and I quickly retreated to my room upstairs before any further incident could occur. A few hours later, I found out that Mrs. Tatum had to leave for some errands in town. It wasn’t far, and I could even see it sparkling in the sun from my large bedroom window, but I knew her errand fell right in the middle of dinner time. Now, I’m not picky necessarily and spice is pretty alright with me for most dishes, but mealtimes had become a bit of a bane of my existence here. Beyond the food even, Mrs. Tatum allowed me to eat with the adults at a later time, but when she was gone, her persistent and strict volunteer, Kathy, did not. “I don’t care what Mrs. Tatum allows you to do, Emma. I’m in charge when she’s gone. Not you,” she commanded down to me while in the kitchen. “You will eat with the other Littles and those of us who are actually adults.” “It’s Emily…” I reminded her for at least the third time today. “Come on… just let me please show you that I can at least…” “I said no!” Kathy practically spat back at me. “Do I need to remind you of your official place here? Despite what you do at reading time and what Mrs. Tatum lets you get away with, you’re still a Little. And don’t you go off and forget that. I promise you don’t want me to remind you.” Her words were cold and the only feeling I even remotely felt with her was dominance and ego. I knew my added presence here was a rub on her position as she used to read stories to the Littles herself before I came along. Mrs. Tatum couldn’t decide between us unfortunately, so we left it up to the Littles instead. It was a blind vote and only Mrs. Tatum and the Littles knew the exact final tally, but in the end, Kathy was no longer in charge of story time. Sulking a little, I cherished the fact that I at least was allowed to eat in a relatively normal booster seat at the table rather than the highchairs the other Littles had to endure themselves. Still, my demotion under her watch was a blow to my ego that was hard to swallow. Further, that evil wretch also ensured she gave me Big food to eat after I first asked for something more mature than the smiley potatoes or dino nuggets I had first been served here. It wasn’t always a problem, but for whatever reason, I guess most Bigs had a different palate than ours and most of their food was horribly spicy. I had learned how to cool it down or mellow out the flavor, but I’ll just leave it that the first time I experienced the new food, fire had practically erupted in my bathroom later that night. Regardless though, I got through another meal and was only able to get through another chapter before Mrs. Tatum popped her head in my cracked door, one of the rules being that I was never allowed to shut it. “Time for bed, Emily. Start getting ready and I’ll check on you in a bit. No dilly dallying,” I nodded and sighed as I started getting ready for bed as she had noted. I had fought with her at first with my bedtime being so early, but without a nap during the day and the fact that I had to expel twice the energy the Bigs did just to keep up with them, meant that I soon didn’t mind it and was even grateful for the fact that it was later than all the other Littles here. What I did mind though, was all the checking Mrs. Tatum would do before she let me go to bed. I know she was just doing her job, but as I was the only one in the big room up here, I think she lavished more attention on me than some of the other Littles. So, even as I finished everything, she would still come in and start going through her list. “Wash your face? Jammies? Brush your teeth? Go potty?” I would nod in the affirmative to each of her questions, and I knew I wasn’t upsetting her at least, but the routine was starting to get a little tedious, particularly the annoyingly persistent potty question. Once she was satisfied with all my answers though, she wished me a goodnight and began to leave the room, but something had been bugging me though and I quickly spoke up. “Is it always going to be like this?” Mrs. Tatum froze in the doorway before sighing and returning over to me. I could see she wanted to give me hope, but I could also see the hard reality of this world was jutting in as well. “I don’t think so, honey… I wish I really could give you a better answer than that, Emily, but it’s just so hard to say these days. You never know what’s going to happen next with all you Littles.” She sighed again. “I will say this though… if I can, I’ll try to keep you safe as best I can until you leave this place.” It wasn’t much, but it was that tiny sliver of hope I had been searching for to hear from her tonight. Kathy was getting to be a big problem and I worried about her doing something rash with me every day that she volunteered here and was solely in charge. “Thank you,” was about all I could say, and Mrs. Tatum just nodded and left my room before flicking off the lights. The next two days proved very much the same, but come Tuesday, Mrs. Tatum announced that she had to leave up north to new Columbia to visit her sick sister. She promised she would be back by Saturday night at the latest, but unfortunately, her absence only meant one thing to me: Kathy was now in charge. I quickly felt nauseous. At first, I think the two of us just honestly avoided each other as much as possible, but later that night, I could see the power in her head had been building and selected dinnertime to unleash her wrath on me. I didn’t even question my eating with the rest of the toddler level Littles as I had before, and I was expecting my usual meal of spicy Big food. With how I prepared it now, it was almost bordering on pleasant, but Kathy had other ideas. “Alright everyone, dig in!” she cheerfully chimed from the kitchen as she and the other volunteers then walked in and placed our plates of food in front of us. It didn’t take a genius to see what was wrong with my plate tonight. “Wook at that! Miss Em’s eatin’ the same thing we are!” Taylor noted to the rest of the table. I could feel the hot blush envelop my cheeks as I looked down and saw the vegetables, fruit, and of course, dino shaped nuggets. “Uh, what’s this?” “It’s Littles food, silly. You eat it,” Kathy almost seemed to joke. The other volunteers snickered in the corner as they left to finish preparing their own meal for later. I grimaced and looked down at my plate again. Admittedly, the fruit, vegetables, and even the small pond of ketchup-like substance in the corner of the plate were all fine. The nuggets though… having helped in meal prep for the Littles before, I knew the dirty secret that they were actually the cauliflower kind, but I also concernedly knew that they contained a mild laxative and some potent fiber. For unpotty-trained Littles, it just meant they didn’t get backed up. For me though… “Please, Kathy…” “Uh oh,” she mocked in her sing-song voice she mainly used on the other Littles. To them, it was almost playful, but to me, it was just meant as an insult. “Looks like someone doesn’t want to eat their veggies.” Several of the Littles gasped and I knew I had to handle this carefully. I couldn’t just outright say the reason I didn’t want to eat the nuggets but eating them was a whole other problem as well. “Kathy… I…” “Oh no. We have a picky eater. Let’s start the countdown everyone!” Most of the Littles nodded and I could feel my position weaken amongst them. Before, I was their superior, but now, I was being treated just like any other fussy Little. “One!” they began. I tried to utter out an excuse, but everyone followed Kathy’s lead and they jumped to “two!” before I could. “Kathy… please!” I tried begging again. “I can eat the veggies, but…” “Three!” everyone shouted. There were no halves, quarters, or even eights or thirds getting to three. It was just plain old successive ‘three.’ The word resounded in the dining room and every Little immediately looked at me and then up at Kathy. “Tsk, tsk…” Kathy chided as she shook her head in disappointment. “I guess someone needs a little trip over to the timeout stool…” Every Little here knew about the stool and had experienced it for themselves in the living room at one point or another. It was in the front of the house and prominently situated underneath the naughty chart there to show any visitor or the family when watching TV that the Little seated there had messed up. I had sat there only twice by now, both when I first got here, and my negative behavior was marked by the corresponding two stars. Now, I would be getting a third. And so, it went. Kathy marched me over from the table to the stool and made me sit there for thirty minutes to think about my naughty behavior. In retrospect, I suppose the lesson was for me to learn that I was just like any other Little under Big rules, but I only sat there that night and fumed. In the end, as usual, I still had to eat my dinner, and before I went to bed that night, I could already feel the effects when I went potty as part of my still-present night routine. The next day, once again, I just tried to avoid Kathy, but I was just interminably grateful that I was alone and practically had the bathroom on my floor to myself. Some Littles from downstairs would use it if they could, or one of the volunteers would use it if the one made for them up or downstairs was full, but today, I occupied it the most often. I didn’t have any accidents, but my bowels were wrecked from just the six nuggets I had eaten forcibly last night. For her part, Kathy just despicably grinned at me the whole day. Unfortunately, her toying with me didn’t end there. By Thursday though, I think my resignation and focus on only my bowel issues on Wednesday had left her wanting something more from me. So, my day began with my shower, but when I returned, another volunteer was there. “Look,” Tawnya began, her face looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but there right then. “Kathy scares me as well, and so when she asks me to do something, I do it.” Her eyes then darted over to an outfit on my bed. “I’m sorry…” My eyes widened as I more closely examined the outfit she was pointing to. At first, I thought the checkered seafoam green dress was just like any of the others I had worn here. It had a bow and was shorter than most of the others, but it wasn’t too terrible. Then I saw that I was only going to be able to wear the dress… without any tights on underneath it. “I can’t wear that!” Tawnya sighed. “Please, Emily? Please can you just wear it today? I have a job to do, and Kathy selected that outfit for you specifically. Training panties as well…” My eyes raced back over and saw the thick panties colored in a similar seafoam green with a large whale printed across the butt. My heart raced and I felt that I was eternally doomed if Kathy was to stay here and rule over me, but I resolved it within myself that Mrs. Tatum was really the one in charge. I only had a few days to go, so to keep the peace and for the sake of Tawnya, I just nodded my head. She smiled back at me and helped me get dressed in the new outfit, yet another requirement that Kathy had insisted on lately. I would have protested as well, but I just had to put it out of my mind that I was standing in front of this Big in the nude. I wanted to punch Kathy so hard right then, but I knew grumbling wouldn’t do me any good, so I just braced against Tawnya’s shoulder as she ruffled the panties up my legs when I stepped into them. Finally, the process was done, and I subjected myself to another breakfast with the other Littles, which was followed by another trip to the park. The place was wide, free, and Little friendly, so Mrs. Tatum often took us here to expel our energies. I resigned myself to just reading today, trying to keep my dress as low as I could so I wouldn’t accidentally show off my training panties to just any stranger walking by. It didn’t help that there was also a breeze, and once again, I could see Kathy’s wicked grin every once in a while, when I would glance over at her. Still, we all got back to the foster home in one piece and just in time for lunch. My crust was cut off, my plate was in the shape of a rhino, and my utensils were all plastic, but it was still a good meal. Unfortunately, I also felt a need to pee right then. So, without thinking, I just got up from the table, remembering rule three of the guide for Littles I had read before coming here: if you feel the need to go and there is a bathroom nearby, use it immediately. “And where do you think you’re going?” Kathy sternly asked, looking in from the kitchen. I froze and answered back as politely as I could. “Just to the bathroom…” “You have to ask before you can go potty, Emma…” she shot back with a glare right in my direction. I practically had to stick my fingers in my eyes to keep them from rolling over that statement, but I nodded instead and kept calm. “I’m sorry. May I use the restroom?” I asked, making sure I used the proper question. ‘Can I use the restroom’ was almost universally known as the death knell for any Little as it always raised a legitimate concern with Bigs about Littles; could the Little in question actually go potty? The English teach in me would have been mortified if I tripped up on that sort of trap around here. Regardless, though, Kathy smiled. “Of course you can, honey.” I nodded and ran upstairs. Unfortunately, someone had left their toys on the second floor by the younger Littles room. The Littles in there rarely left their room and were attended to by two separate near-constantly watching volunteers. The house only had two Littles that mental age now and both were practically newborns, having been found in some kind of back alley testing facility. Even then though, it just made Bigs seem to desire them more and there was already a couple willing to take both home by next Tuesday. Regardless, the plastic train stubbed my toe, and I willed everything in my being not to curse out loud right then. I was successful though, and I continued up to my floor. Just my luck though, I had caused a commotion, and it didn’t take long for Kathy to quickly follow behind me up the stairs. “Everything okay?” I nodded and just hoped she would go away. She didn’t. “You have to be more careful on the stairs, Emma. Maybe you just need a little extra help today. Let me go with you.” Before I had a chance to respond, Kathy took my hand and led me up the stairs, her grip near vice-like. Panicking, as we rounded the corner, I took the opportunity of our weaker connection, and I wrenched my arms from hers. “Get off me! I don’t need your help!” Kathy frowned immediately. “Don’t you take that tone with me, missy!” I just walked away, trying to avoid conflict, and still having to pee. I had miscalculated though, and it had the opposite effect. “And where do you think you’re going?” Kathy asked, her hands now situated on both hips and her breathing turning almost into a snarl of sorts. “You apologize to me right now!” At the single moment, I realized I had two options. First, I could apologize, humiliate myself and possibly even show Kathy that I needed her help… at least in her mind. Second, though, I could refuse, and she could get angry and likely punish me further. Seeing as she was already angry though, and the first could just lead to more problems in my future, I shook my head. “No!” As if the hallways had suddenly turned into an echo chamber, my voice seemingly bounced off the walls and appeared to almost shake Kathy right where she stood. For a moment, I thought she might even back down, but sticking to character, she didn’t. “No? What do you mean ‘no?’” Her tone quickly became darker, and her hulking presence inched closer to me as she looked down on me in fury. “You don’t say no to me! You got that? I am a Big here and you are a Little! I don’t care who you used to be or that you’re trying to go back home. You’re in our world now and you’re nothing but a Little. You’re either going to learn your place or you’ll be sorry.” With that finally spat, she yanked my hand and dragged me up the final leg of stairs to my floor. I quickly wondered if I had made the right call in defying her, but something was telling me that I hadn’t. Kathy then quickly stopped in front of the bathroom and my heart dropped. “Decision time. Either be the Little you are or face the consequences. There is no third option.” I looked in the bathroom and saw there was now a child’s potty sitting on the ground next to the smaller toilet, horrifyingly now locked with a heavy-duty mechanism arcing over the top. Even if I said no, I would still need help to get it off or instead just use the little purple potty now in there. At that moment though, I also realized that Kathy was insisting she go in with me while I did my business. Since I was given the training panties on day one here, it was a thought that had utterly terrified me of being watched like a little kid fresh off potty training. It seemed according to Kathy, today was going to be the day that I would cross that line in my potty habits, and I wasn’t sure if it was a line that could ever be recrossed or undone. Now, admittedly, I know a lot of people probably would have just given in, just like I knew before as well that they wouldn’t have turned right at the statue down the alleyway. I know those things and that I’m not perfect either. I was a fully independent and successful teacher back on Earth… no executive I will admit, but one just doesn’t turn off being an adult in these types of situations. I challenge anyone else not to put up a little fight or struggle to maintain their independence at least a little bit in situations like these. So, despite hating myself as soon as I did it, I shook my head. Sadly, it turned out it was the last straw for Kathy. Anger flashed across her face. Her movements were swift and deliberate as she grabbed my wrist once more and dragged me into my room. The basic décor stood in stark contrast to the other more fun and cutesy rooms of the house, but I had always appreciated that. Now, the starkness just gave me less to focus on as Kathy glared down at me. “Don’t you move one muscle.” Her voice was calculating, and I could almost feel myself wince as she then left and went over to a door on one end of the room. It had been locked the whole time I had been there and had just assumed it was another closet in here next to mine. It wasn’t. “Hmmm…” Kathy mused as the door finally opened, “which one today?” I tried to get a better look, but her large Big-sized body just blocked nearly every inch of the narrow opening. “Aha! Perfect!” She retrieved something and quickly closed the door back up before walking back over to me. I tried to make out what was now in her hand, but when I did, I wished I hadn’t. There, all bright red and shiny even, was a long spanking paddle. Holes filled the end that was a little over the length of her hand, making the whole thing just a shade under three feet in total. I gulped as she strutted back over to me with it swaying ominously from her hand. She sat down, smiled sadistically at me, and then patted her lap. “Come, Emily. It’s time you get acquainted with another punishment that most Littles experience at least once. Something’s telling me you’ll be fast friends with it quite soon though.” I eyed the spanking implement balanced gracefully in her hand and my knees seemed to turn into jelly. I wanted to move, but I was finding it hard to take a step further. “I meant now! Don’t make me come over there!” she thundered at my slow movements. Despite nearly collapsing at each step, my fear of her only making things worse for me was a powerful motivating factor. “Turn around,” she then commanded me. I nodded and turned, and to my horror, I could feel her giant hand snatch the back of my training panties and drop them to my ankles. My face flushed with embarrassment, but I didn’t have long to feel it. “Over my lap… now!” I hopped right to it and eased myself over her lap. Her things provided ample room for me to lay down on, but I could still feel the heat rise in my cheeks and my whole body become very uncomfortable as she lifted my short skirt up towards my back. I couldn’t see it, but I knew she now had a perfect target across my vulnerable behind in order for her to ‘teach me a lesson.’ “It didn’t need to be this way, Emma…” Kathy started, almost seeming disappointed in me. “Now, as this is your first spanking here, I will go easy on you. I think just 15 smacks in a row should do.” I could almost feel myself shaking in fear as she began to rub my butt all around. I think it was to prepare my skin or something like that, but it just gave me more time to contemplate my ultimate doom. Under this roof, I felt I was already losing so much of who I was. I had only been here now for a little over two weeks, and there were some rumors that a new passport lately could take three months to be renewed. It didn’t bode well for me at all. “Okay, ready?” she asked in a surprisingly mellow voice. I wasn’t sure why the change was present, but my best guess was that now was business more than her pleasure. Before, intimidation was critical, but now, a lesson being learned seemed more important to her. Regardless, I just nodded my head and braced for impact. “One!” she called out. The first spank hit me like a linebacker and sounded like a thunderclap. I bit my lips to keep from yelling out, but by the sixth, I just couldn’t help it anymore. Fire began to scorch every inch of my posterior and I tried to keep my squirming down, but after each of the thousands of needle-like blows hit me, my who body would go rigid, and I would involuntarily struggle to be free. Still, Kathy was relentless in her punishment of me. AS if she was painting a canvas, soon, there was not a single spot that didn’t ache or scream in pain. I was quickly reduced to a puddle of tears, and my only relief came when Kathy finally reached the magic number, 15. She rubbed my butt for a little longer and even applied some lotion to it. It stung something awful at first, but after a few moments, I felt eh sweet relief of pain, even if it was just for a single moment. Seeming satisfied now, she then carefully helped me stand up again. “Now, are you going to be a good girl for me and listen?” I wanted so badly to tell her no or to screw herself, but my butt just throbbed and ached for me to say otherwise. Not being able to form the words though, I just nodded. It seemed like it was enough and Kathy just smiled and led me to the bathroom, where, under her supervision, I finally relieved myself. “Good girl!” she praised. My cheeks flushed again, but once more, my butt just screamed out to me more than anything else. Still, Kathy seemed happy for once and led me back to my room and turned out the lights so I could have ‘a little alone time.’ I cried myself to sleep and just hoped something would change. Nothing did, but I was about the most compliant Little ever, so even into Friday, all seemed okay between Kathy and I now. By the end of the day though, I could tell she was itching to reassert her authority over me, whether I warranted it or not. So, after dinner, I retreated upstairs with the other Littles. “Oh, Emma?” I turned around and faced my tormentor and many of the other Littles did as well. “I think you’ve had a long week and with tomorrow being Saturday and all, I think you should have an earlier bedtime tonight. How about you have the same as the rest of the toddler Littles, huh?” Despite my bruised posterior, I could feel the anger swelling up inside of me. I wanted to be compliant to at least avoid being punished, but this time, I hadn’t done anything wrong and yet I was still being degraded like all the others. It was too much right in that moment, and I stepped forward… but I felt a hand quickly stop me going further from behind me. I looked back and another Little, Lilly, gravely shook her head. I could tell she was scared for me right away and not wanting to upset her while also seeing the wisdom of her restraint, I nodded. So, I then looked back up at Kathy and summoned just about all the will I could muster to smile politely back at her. “That sounds like a… good idea. Best to be awake tomorrow…” Kathy sickeningly smiled back at me, and I just took it in and retreated back upstairs with the rest of my kind. Lilly soon confronted me as we ascended the stairs. “You getting’ in trouble is jus’ bad, Miss Em.” I nodded in resignation. “I know Lilly. I just… it’s hard, you know?” I could tell she wasn’t completely sure if she did know, but from what I had gathered since, everyone knew about my punishment yesterday and everyone here had received it at one point in their stay here. Despite my lack of information, I knew that if nothing else, though, she was trying to help me out and prevent what had already happened to me from getting worse. “Yeah,” she said a little hesitant. “Just be careful. Dis area’s dangerous for dose who don’ follow da rules, in here or out dere…” I acknowledged what she told me, but it was just a concept that didn’t seem to want to stick in my head. I of course would try and avoid being punished, but there was just a sense of being an adult that I couldn’t shake. Regardless though, I just settled down for the night an hour early and hoped that tomorrow would bring me just that. Now, Saturday is family day around here. Of course, we Littles don’t have family here in this dimension most likely, but it was a day set aside during the week that we all looked forward to for one reason or another. See, it was where prospective caregivers would come and meet with, or even rent out, one of us for the day. The hope was to build a bond between us and them that could ensure a proper fit and later smooth transition if they decided to begin the adoption process. Unfortunately, being the mental age I was, my prospects were usually fairly slim, so my potential escape plan from Kathy later would always come up short. Further, once any Big beyond that hurdle found out I was applying for another passport as well, Mrs. Tatum had informed me that it was practically the final nail in my coffin against me for most. So, as a result, I had spent the past two Saturdays with Nancy, and I didn’t mind one bit. Of course, Nancy would still come around during the week when she could, but her job as a high-level executive at one of the local bigwig companies this week meant that today was the first time I had seen her in a week. From the other times she had come here, she knew about my various struggles, but after this last week with Kathy, I now had a whole new set of problems. “So, she even spanked me on Thursday and sent me to bed early yesterday,” I explained to Nancy once we exchanged our usual pleasantries and she apologized for not making it here sooner. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Emily,” she said was a sad face. Her eyes then scanned over me and I could see her eyebrows raise just a bit. “I see she’s also selecting some… different outfits for you lately?” I looked own at my outfit, this one only composed of tight dark pants and a shirt that spouted the phrase, ‘#1 Princess.’ It was a bit mortifying, especially considering my training panties puffed out against the dark fabric. “You could say that…” We talked for a little while longer, even going so far as to walk around outside as we did so. Kathy almost denied us leaving the foster home, but Nancy got her way in the end after some selective and strong words. Oddly, that type of force against my latest foe had made me see her differently after that. Nancy was a Big, so I wasn’t naive and a little nervous about that, but I would have been blind to say that she wasn’t at least a bit protective of me. It wasn’t much, but at the same time, something was telling me that this week with Kathy, now that it had happened, wouldn’t be the last. If I stayed here, I wasn’t confident that I would be making it back home as the same woman I had left Earth as. So, a new thought popped into my head. It was so simple, and a huge risk on my part, but faced with my current options, it at least seemed the safest path away from Kathy. Mulling it over a bit more, once we passed the swing set that I had come to know so well over the past weeks, I told Nancy my proposal. For her part, Nancy just listened and to my relief, actually seemed to give it some legitimate thought. Still, I could see her hesitancy as well. “I don’t know, Emily… me taking you in from this place? It’s a lot to ask…” I nodded my head. “I know Nancy, but I don’t think I’m going to make it here. Mrs. Tatum and the other Littles are great, but Kathy… I’m just not sure how long I can stay as who I am if she’s treating me like the helpless Little I think she wants me to be. I just feel that something is going to happen and it’s going to cause me a lot of issues down the road. Does that make sense?” Nancy nodded and we then walked another block as our conversation switched around a little. Finally, as we came to a large tree just off the path, she looked back at me. “Okay… I’ll do it, but you need to know, because of your situation and all and my job… there’s going to be some stipulations…” My mind raced with the possibilities, but at least she had said yes. I was so desperate to get away from Kathy and her schemes, that if Nancy asked me to do her laundry every day as that stipulation, I think I would have agreed to it in a heartbeat without much thought. Still, a little voice in the back of my head wanted to know more. “What sort of stipulations exactly?” Nancy smiled. “Nothing hugely impactful, but because of LPS and all, we need to keep up a front for them. At home, you could be free and go to bed at midnight for all I care, but if they ever came over, I would need you to act like the best Little in the world. The slightest hesitation or bad behavior, in their minds at least, and the jig would be up.” She paused for a moment and scratched the back of her head. I braced for what was coming next. “Also… I have a job and I can’t leave you at home by yourself… that would only lead to many things only being worse… for both of us actually.” I didn’t like where this was headed, but I was weighing any options she told to me against what Kathy wanted now and likely in the future. As long as it wasn’t diapers, I felt confident that I would say yes to almost anything. “Go on…” Nancy sighed. “Well, for Littles, there aren’t too many options for during the day, but I think I saw an ad the other day for… to be honest, a daycare.” I think she was waiting for me to bolt, but I just stood my ground. “Yeah… I know it’s probably not ideal, but this place specializes in curated times to occupy your day based on your mentality. It’s got multiple levels for dealing with Littles and is some of the most top tier care in the city. We can always find something else, but what do you think?” Her stipulations weren’t diapers and before, I knew that was about my only caveat in whatever they turned out to be. I had so many other questions, but for now, on the surface level at least, Nancy had presented a way forward to me that just might work. Daycare admittedly, but it was something that seemed better than what fate awaited me with Kathy if I stayed in Mrs. Tatum’s foster home. So, with a sigh, I nodded. “I’m in.” Nancy smiled and we both began walking back to the house to start filling out the paperwork. I would still have another few days at the bare minimum for the paperwork to go through and for Nancy’s house to be inspected by LPS first, but I knew I was taking a big leap into my future. Nancy seemed much better than Kathy though, so I just crossed my fingers and hoped everything would be fine for a few months until I could get my passport back.

A NEW DAY “Good morning, baby girl,” Sarah whispered in Vickie's ear as she rubbed her shoulder. “Time to rise and shine, and drink your ba bas!” Sarah had awakened to find Vickie's head still nestled up against her chest, the rhythmic beating of her heart soothing her baby as once, long ago, the beating of a mother's heart had perhaps comforted her in the womb. Sarah had taken her time getting out of bed, choosing to let Vickie sleep since there was only room for one in her bathroom. She had showered and dressed, and fixed her hair and makeup before retreating to the kitchen to warm the last two bottles of breast milk in the frig. There was still one clean diaper left in Vickie's diaper bag, which would have to do until they got to work. Sarah wanted Vickie to become functionally incontinent as quickly as possible, which meant a steady diet of breast milk laced with diuretics and laxatives. Her target was six to eight diaper changes a day, and for all of them to be poopy. From Sarah's point of view, the diaper pails that she had at home, and in both her office and Rita's, couldn't fill up fast enough. “Did you sleep well, Sweetie?” “Yes, Mommy! Like a baby,” Vickie cleverly replied. “Aw, you're so cute, and Mommy loves you sooo much! Now, let me crawl into bed, sit up, and cradle you in my lap. It's time for breakfast!” Vickie obliged, and a few moments later was sucking on the nipple of her pink baby bottle. As she nursed, she felt completely at peace. Looking down on her new baby, Sarah was silently cursing herself. She had known Vickie for almost ten years, and in all that time had paid no attention to the warning signs. Living life on the high wire was a self-destructive cry for help, and she had ignored it-- she and Rita, both. No more. We're a family, and it took having Ian come along to drive the point home … drive it into our very thick skulls. We're a family, and what do families do when one of us is hurting? We pitch in, and we help. Vickie needs her mother … needs to experience love at first hand. That's where Rita and I come in, so that … Please,God, please let Vickie and Ian have children! “Diapee, Mommy! Diapee!” “Oh, you finished your ba ba already?? Such a good baby girl! Yes, you are; yes, you are!” Sarah fished the key to Vickie's diaper cover out of her pocket, and unlocked it. Vickie raised her hips, and Sarah quickly removed the cover and baby pants, setting them aside. They were clean enough to be reused, but would soon need to be replaced. On both, the smell from Vickie's poop was unmistakable. Sarah ran her hand over Vickie's diaper, and was delighted to discover that it was soaked. Her baby girl had wet heavily during the night, and perhaps more than once. Her control was rapidly slipping away. Leaning down, Sarah took a deep breath, and instantly recoiled. “Baby girl, did you make a poopies in your sleep for your mommy?” Sarah found it remarkably easy to speak to Vickie as if she were an infant. “Poopy, Mommy … poopy!” “Well, let's get you out of that dirty diaper, get you into the tub, and get that cute, little bottom of yours nice and clean! Does that sound good, baby girl?” “Yes, Mommy! Clean!” Taking Vickie by the hand, Sarah led her into the bathroom, but did not attack her diaper until she was safely in the tub. When she unpinned the heavy, wet fabric, it was full of mushy poop, which was also coating the whole of her nether region. During the night, the laxatives had done their work. “I'm sorry, Mommy; I'm such a baby.” “Don't be sorry, baby girl.” Sarah was using a damp washrag to clean off as much of the mess as possible, but suddenly she paused. “I'm sorry, Vickie. I love you … you and Rita, both … my sisters. And I am so ashamed that I never saw how much you were hurting.” “She never loved me,” Vickie wailed. “I was … was such an inconvenience … a … a blemish on her country club standing. She never loved me!” Vickie broke down completely, holding onto Sarah for dear life, Sarah hugging her close in return. “The past is the past, over and done.” Sarah was whispering into Vickie's ear, trying to give her hope, trying to connect with whatever vestige of faith in others that Vickie could still muster. “I love you, baby girl, now and forever. And Ian loves you … God, how that man loves you! Both of you will always be my babies, long after yours have grown up and run off to make lives of their own. And you will, you know? You and Ian? My crystal ball tells me that you will have at least two daughters, maybe more!” Sarah hugged Vickie, willing her to let go, willing her tears to flow. For both of them, the morning had brought a new day. . . . . Opening the door just a crack, Bernice peeked into the guest room. In the last hour before dawn, it was still pitch black outside, and the only light entering the room came from the hallway behind her. In the darkness, she could not tell if Ian was still asleep. Entering the room but leaving the door partially open, Bernice approached the bed. Looking down, she saw that he was still sleeping peacefully, still holding tight to the pacifier that Suzie had offered him the night before. What a contradiction in terms you are. Truly, an enigma. In the semi darkness, standing beside the bed, Bernice was studying him, trying to get all the disparate pieces of the puzzle that was Professor Ian Grady to come together in a meaningful pattern. I'm glad that Suzie came over, and offered to help get you settled in for the night. And it was so nice of you to let her feed you the bottles of breast milk that Sarah insists you drink at bedtime, though what that's all about I have absolutely no idea. And as for the pacifier … Bernice shook her head, still baffled by what she had seen and learned about this young man. Suzie told me how you helped Wendy Stafford, and something about volunteering to help vets at the hospital. And last night you helped my girls, kept most of them from making a terrible mistake that would tear this house apart and saddle them with lifelong guilt … What you told them about Viet Nam … lifting the veil on all the hurt you carry around inside you … collapsing into Priscilla's arms with another seizure … how can you do this to yourself? Does retreating into infancy like this somehow balance the scale? Allow you to function? Bernice set the two bottles of warm breast milk on the nightstand, where they would be within easy reach of the couch. She would wake him, feed him, change his diaper during the course of his morning routine, and offer him a decent breakfast. The Chief would swing by to pick them both up, delivering Ian to his morning class and her to a meeting with the Dean that was bound to be awkward and humiliating in the extreme. Later, the three of them would go downtown, to the courthouse, where Ian and the District Attorney would do their best to sell a settlement to the court that would spare the girls public exposure yet satisfy the wrath of the gangster who owned the diaper service. Bernice desperately wanted her girls back. There were only eleven in the house, and it felt as empty as a tomb. These would be gone by term's end, leaving her with forty-one charges with a criminal record hanging over their heads-- forty-one charges who would be wearing and using diapers 24/7 for the rest of their university careers. If Tippi and Cindy agree to Ian's plan … if the DA doesn't have a change of heart when he gets up this morning … if the judge will go along with this absurd plan to keep Spats Belmondo at bay … Truly, an enigma. . . . . It was a morning ritual that dated back to Priscilla's mid-teens. Her dad got up first, and headed downstairs to start the percolator. When the paper landed on the front porch, he went out to collect it. Then, cup of scalding black coffee in hand, he sat down, took out the sports pages, and settled back to read about the latest misadventure suffered by the Twins or the Vikings, the North Stars or the Gophers. Forever doomed to be teased but disappointed, only a masochist could love sports in Minnesota. This Thursday morning started out like all the others. In due course, Julia staggered down the stairs-- a person best avoided until she had drowned her displeasure with the world in general and Minnesotans in particular in a cup of joe, no cream or sugar added, thank you very much. Julia hated mornings almost as much as she hated stakeouts. When she arrived on scene, like Pavlov's dog Herb put down his cup, opened the paper wide, and hid behind the thin but hopefully impenetrable barrier of the Star Tribune. They both understood that Julia could violate the truce, but only if she was having a particularly bad morning. The twenty ninth of November, in the year known as 1979 in some circles and 2522 in others, was a particularly bad morning. Invariably, Priscilla was the last to put in an appearance. She had discovered early on that hiding behind a cup of coffee didn't work if you were the third and last to arrive, so she had developed an ongoing love affair with the toaster. It was so positioned in a corner of the kitchen that anyone bowing down in worship before it would have their back turned to the dining room table. On good days, Priscilla would have her slice of white bread lightly toasted; on bad days, it would come out burnt to a crisp. This was an especially bad day. Priscilla had given careful thought to the confrontation-- in fact, had been thinking about it for years. No man would ever be good enough for Herb and Julia Canon's little girl, although it had become glaringly obvious in recent years that her lack of matrimonial prospects was worrying them both. Parents, she thought as she sat down directly opposite her mother and began doling out the butter and the apricot jam; they always want to have their cake and eat it too. She had come to the table this morning prepared for combat. Parents could be dragons, but she was a dragon slayer. And she had in her possession the one weapon before which the most fiery of dragons were helpless. Grandchildren. The ultimate weapon in the eternal war between the generations. She had seen it in Ian's eyes. When he first spoke of his daughter, his expression had softened, his eyes filled with tenderness and love. And then had come the moment when he acknowledged her loss, and his eyes had filled with pain, hot and searing. Priscilla did not know whether the search for Linh and Thu would ever bear fruit, but she knew that she wanted to start a family, and for Ian to be the one who gave her children. If anything could heal a wound cutting this deep into the soul, even diminish its pain, it was to have more children. And time would be on her side. She might suffer their wrath today, but her parents would never take out their displeasure on her children. In time, all would be forgiven. “About Quantico,” she decided to begin. And sure enough … Herb lowered his newspaper, and looked at her quizzically. “Dad, you were right about Ian … well, both right and wrong. He does work for the CIA, but he's not on the payroll. It's more like he does them the occasional favor, and in return they search ...” Priscilla visibly choked on what she had to say next. She didn't need to see photographs to imagine what rats and the tropical sun had done to Ian's family. The rats had visited her in her sleep. “Search?” Herb had set the newspaper aside. “For his daughter, Dad. The Agency is searching for his daughter. He married in Viet Nam, but when he was in hospital, someone came to the village. They slaughtered everyone except the little children. Ian … the whole intelligence community suspects that someone knew he had a child, and took the children because they didn't know which one was his. It's his gift for languages, Dad; you don't know how rare it is. If his daughter has inherited it, her value would be incalculable.” Herb glanced at his wife. “Did you know about this?” “I found out last night, at the sorority house. He bared his soul to keep those girls from making a terrible mistake. It worked, but the cost to him personally was high. And this morning he and Q-Ball are going into court to try and sell the judge on a plan that they cobbled together on the fly … a plan to buy off Spats Belmondo.” Herb let out a deep sigh. He was almost afraid to ask the next question. “And what does Quantico have to do with this?” "Ian called a friend at Langley … a Deputy Director. They want me to do the embassy security course so that ...” Priscilla paused, not sure which parent to address. Neither of them was likely to take what was coming next very well. “The Agency expects Ian to have more children, and they don't want a repeat of what happened in Viet Nam. So, a security net will be dropped over any woman he sleeps with. The net will become more visible if someone gets pregnant, and very tight once the baby is born. Ian wants me to take charge of the inner security ring-- the one inside the house, and on the surrounding grounds. I'm the logical choice because ...” Priscilla took a deep breath, hoping that her parents could guess what she was about to confess. “... because I'm already inside the net.” “You're sleeping with him.” Julia made it a statement, not a question. “Were either of you using protection?” Priscilla shook her head. “No, and we won't be in the future.” “You want to have a baby … with a man you've known for what … three days? Priscilla, this is insane!” Herb wondered whether his daughter had actually taken leave of her senses. “And where,” he pressed, “does this leave Rita … and Vickie … and, and … what's the name of the one he's going to marry?” Herb was looking at his wife, desperately in need of answers not only to the question he was asking but also to the ones he wasn't. “Sarah,” Julia prompted. “Right,” Herb said, “Sarah. Where does this leave Sarah?” “On Saturday night, when they hear the truth, the three of them will have to decide whether they want to pay the price that loving Ian demands. The loss of privacy … the price is high, Dad, so we're going to wait to hear what they have to say.” “And if the three of them want to go ahead with this bizarre plan of theirs?” “Then the three of us will become the four of us,” Priscilla shrugged. “It's that simple.” “So you propose to have a baby out of wedlock ...” “Oh, Dad, really? Ozzie and Harriet, Dad? Donna Reed? In case you haven't noticed, the nineteen fifties have come and gone. Welcome to the seventies! Even Three's Company is passé! With inflation and all? Five's company sounds about right!” “Pris, I have never been so proud of you in my whole life as I was last night.” Julia opted to try a different approach. “Ian is a remarkable person, and he's hurting in ways that I can't even begin to fathom. And you were there for him, embracing his pain, giving him the strength to do something that had to be done despite the cost. You love him, and he loves you. That's so plain to see that I expect the whole campus to be talking about little else today. I'm happy for you, but I would like you to tone it down until Saturday night rolls around. Be gentle. Give Sarah … give all three of them some time to come to terms with this.” “Julia ...” “No, Herb. We have to respect our daughter's wishes. Besides, you're two years away from retirement, and I'm sick of stakeouts. We can take the money we'd blow on a big wedding and finally take that cruise we've been talking about all these years. Then I'll be ready to become a grandma, and spoil my grandson or daughter rotten.” “Okay … okay.” Herb threw his hands in the air in surrender. “I know when I'm beaten.” “Good,” Priscilla declared. “Now that that's out of the way, it will be okay for you to tag along tonight.” “Tonight? Where?” “To the bar, of course. Ian, Vickie, an orderly named Amos Waring, and yours truly are challenging the reigning champs to a drinking contest, with Hong Kong Rules. Ian thinks you're too old to hold your own, but I told him you were good for it. We'll see.” “And what exactly are Hong Kong Rules,” Herb smiled. “Tequila shots until someone pisses their pants. The loser has to buy the next round for the whole bar. We play until one team is all pissed out-- and it won't be us because Vickie and I will be wearing the same diaper Ian wears … that big, thick hospital monstrosity. We'll be able to piss ourselves with merry abandon, and no one will be the wiser! We win, and become the new champs, much to the delight of the Third, which is strongly of the opinion that Amos will still be standing when everyone else passes out.” “We'll see.” Herb's smile was getting bigger by the second. “Starting time?” “Around eight. I promised Ian a gourmet meal of home made onion rings, a juicy lucy, and house cut fries. Since I'm the world's worst cook, I need to lower his expectations.” “Now, that sounds more like the daughter I know and love,” Julia laughed. “I think I'll tag along, if only to pick up the pieces and figure out who's going to be sleeping where!” . . . . Ian picked up the phone on the first ring. “That you, Street?” “In the flesh.” “You'll be happy to know that I've got you on speed dial,” Donnie laughed. “I gather you made the local news last night; don't let being a celebrity go to your head!” “They mentioned me by name?” Ian was pretty sure that Donnie was pulling his leg. “Nah … just a global reference to somebody ripping off diapers from a badly wounded war hero. Anybody say anything in class just now?” “Nary a word.” “Well, then, as you have been known to say: 'no harm done'. Now about Vincent Belmondo ...” Ian could hear Donnie shuffling papers on his desk. “Street, you have a talent for unearthing interesting people, and this guy is definitely interesting. Let's start with his father, Tommaso. Got off the boat from Naples in twenty four, blew a kiss to the Statue of Liberty, and immediately headed west … destination, Chicago. Grandfather was definitely Neapolitan, so if there's a Sicilian connection, it won't show up on our end. Capiche?” “Got it. I'll pursue it from this end. Maybe Antonio will have a better sense of the family history.” “Going to call him?” “Yeah, but it would help if you could come up with something to add spice to the conversation.” “Consider it done. Your Libyan pal has let it be known that there's not enough grease on his palms.” “That works. Antonio is getting on in years, but he still likes to keep his hand in. Let him run with the ball.” “Don't fancy a desert outing, I take it.” “Camels make me seasick. I learned my lesson in that Algerian fiasco. One hundred and forty five degrees Fahrenheit in the shade, only there was no shade. And the gold embossing on my passport melted! The immigration officer gave me a really funny look when I landed at LAX.” “Okay, so back to the American branch of clan Belmondo. Tommaso quickly hooks up with Al Capone, and starts running trucks over to Lake Huron. With a little help from the Purple Gang, Tommaso is soon making regular runs with Seagram's finest, and he gets rewarded for his loyalty and reliability. In short, for a Wop fresh off the boat, after a couple of years spent proving his worth, he's living the American dream, complete with wife and child. Only, he doesn't want his first-born son to get caught up in the family business, so he scrimps and saves to put his boy through private schools with a penchant for sending their prodigies to the Ivies.” “You have got to be kidding me!” Ian was laughing so hard that he doubled over. “Nope!” Donnie was laughing just as loud. “Brown, class of forty eight … a Phi Beta Kappa, no less! And then … then … Vincent takes an MBA at Princeton-- my alma mater! Ian, no matter what … please … I'm begging you … find out if he remembers the fight song!” “It'll be high on my list, Donnie … high on my list!” Ian could feel mushy poop pouring into his diaper, which seemed only fitting given the way this conversation was going. “So, after he gets his degree, he goes back to Chicago, at a moment when Minneapolis is wide open because Humphrey's run the mob out of town. Seizing the opportunity, Vincent migrates north to fill the void, but he's smart enough to realize that no one is going to take an Ivy League hood seriously, so he comes up with Spats Belmondo, and sells the product with the help of Tony Accardo, who by then is running the Chicago Outfit.” “Oh, this just gets better and better,” Ian guffawed; “no wonder he has a hard on for wood chippers … he was tutored by Joe Batters, no less!” “Yep, the Big Tuna himself!” “Okay,” Ian decided, “here's what we're going to do. Call our friends at the IRS, and have them send a certified letter to Spats informing him that he's won the grand prize-- a comprehensive audit of the last seven years of his personal and business returns.” “That will certainly get his attention,” Donnie chuckled. “But have our guy add a phone number and extension at the bottom of the letter, and do it by hand. I'll tell Spats that, if he plays ball, he's one phone call away from getting a reprieve. And to sweeten the deal, an ironclad guarantee that he can visit the old country without worrying about being denied reentry when he comes home.” “Okay, so after you recruit him, what the hell are you going to do with him?” “Put him to work, of course. In fact, if they're still juicing the food service industry, I'm going to put the whole, damned Mafia to work!” . . . . “This is gross,” Melanie complained. “I mean seriously. What's the point of getting us up at six? Hello? We're in jail, already! It's not like we have to dash off to class or something … and that shower! The last time anybody cleaned the floor in this dump was when dinosaurs were walking the earth!” “And the food,” Joyce added; “don't forget the food! A two week old Danish? And corn flakes? I didn't know that anyone even made corn flakes anymore!” “And you call this milk?” Cindy had her own litany of complaints. “Poor Blofeld would starve to death in here!” “Good riddance,” Janis muttered to herself. “Sweetie, you gonna eat that Danish?” Ruby was eyeing Tippi's pastry the way a shark eyed its next meal. “Help yourself,” Tippi said. Ruby did just that. The twelve cellmates were having breakfast at a long trestle table in the dining hall. “You count yourself lucky you locked up in Hennepin County,” Ruby smugly declared. “You know what you get for dinner out in Dakota? Turkey sandwiches! Seven days a week, you get turkey sandwiches, with this thimbleful of fruit cocktail. At least, I think it's fruit cocktail, though it's a bit hard to tell. Turkey sandwiches!” “Gross,” Melanie reiterated. “Worse than the house, worse than the dorms … gross!” “I want to go home,” Janis whined. “My mom's gonna kill me, but so what? I want to go home!” “She ain't gonna kill you, beeech. Nope, no way, no how. She gonna be diapering you, and taking her damned sweet time changing you. You gonna stink to high heaven. Even the cops down in the Third ain't gonna touch you, and they got no taste whatsoever! Yep, I can see it now-- you gonna be dumping your breakfast in the seat of your pants.” “The corn flakes' revenge,” one of the other hookers cackled. “The corn flakes' revenge!” Janis folded her arms, and lowered her head to the tabletop. “I want to go home,” she repeated. “I want to go home ...” “Oh, for God's sake!” Tippi had had it. Pounding the table with both palms, she got to her feet, and glared at her sisters. “Just listen to you! They got us up too early … the shower's dirty … the food sucks … what the hell did you expect? For crying out loud, this is a jail! We'll be out of here in a few hours, so suck it up! We screwed up a simple heist, but we're getting off easy. We wear diapers for a few semesters, but so what? Professor Grady has been wearing diapers for years! And the fine? Big deal! It's our parents who'll be picking up the tab. And what are they gonna do … spank us? Yeah, like that's gonna hurt when we're wearing diapers. Jeesh!!!” “Tip's right,” Kimberly declared as she climbed to her feet. “No one's locking up these babies ...” Kimberly was running her hands back and forth across her very well endowed chest. “... and my blow jobs are second to none! I'll survive!” “You go, girl,” Ruby clapped. “You and me? Maybe we can show the rest of these pussies how it's done!” Ruby stuck her thumb in her mouth, wiggled it around a bit, and began moaning as she sucked (or perhaps, Dear Reader, she was sucking as she moaned; we'll leave it up to your imagination). . . . . “Hail, hail, the gang's all here,” Chief Mischof gleefully remarked as he walked into the courtroom behind Bernice and Ian. With a sincere grin lighting up his features, Walt walked over to shake hands with Herb Canon. He settled for nodding to Julia and Priscilla, glad to see that both had showed up to testify if it should prove necessary. “You okay?” Ignoring everyone else, Priscilla had walked straight to Ian, and reached out to clasp both his hands. Her concern for his well-being was obvious to all. “Bernice gave me the five star treatment,” Ian smiled; “Bernice and Suzie Marshall both.” “Suzie? What was she doing there?” Ian could hear the alarm in Priscilla's voice. “Pris, she came over to see if Bernice needed any help. And she was nice … more than nice. She was kind. This morning, Bernice told me that Suzie is going to declare me off limits to the scalp hunters, and apparently she has enough clout to make it stick. Apparently I said something to Suzie last night that had a real impact, and I don't even know what it was. Bernice knows, but she refuses to say.” Ian briefly looked her way. Walt stared at the floor, trying hard not to let Julia and Herb see what he was thinking. He knew, because Bernice had told him. Barely twenty-four, and yet Ian had been ready to die. He had lost far more than a wife and daughter in Viet Nam. “I think … I think it has something to do with her husband, who died at the very end of the Korean War … on hill 255 … what we kill Pork Chop Hill.” Ian's voice had grown very soft. “Have you noticed, Pris? Bernice still wears her wedding ring.” “Oh, Ian,” Priscilla sobbed. “God, how I love you!” She reached out to clutch him in her arms, her head resting upon his shoulder. A part of her, a big part, wanted never to let go.

Well the pressure is on now. I think that Kelly is really starting to feel it now as well. A few more messages from Martha could be enough to push her over the edge. You can tell she knows what she is doing is wrong because she is so reluctant to contact the police. Most people are very quick to contact the authorities for help and she is just the opposite. This story still has me on the edge of my seat and craving more.

Chapter 2 The statement hung between them, a stark reminder of the unique situation they had navigated to get here. Anne's eyes widened slightly, understanding the dilemma immediately. The audition space, crowded and lacking in privacy, offered no easy solution. She gave Lucy's hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up to seek assistance. Anne approached one of the organizers, a clipboard-carrying woman who seemed to be orchestrating the chaos with efficiency. After a brief exchange, where Anne's concern was met with a sympathetic yet firm response, she returned to Lucy, her expression a mixture of concern and resolve. She knelt down beside her, taking her hands gently. "The lady said that you can use the diaper if you need to go, sweetheart. I know it's not ideal, but it might be the only option right now," she explained with a soft, apologetic tone. Lucy looked up at her mom, a mix of confusion and understanding in her eyes. It was a lot to ask of a child who hadn't needed a diaper in years. Peter joined them, offering a supportive shoulder for Lucy to lean on. "Remember how you always wanted to be a big girl and do things on your own?" Peter said, trying to instill a sense of empowerment. "Well, sometimes, being a big girl means doing things a little differently. It’s just for a short while, and we have a whole pack so we can change you into a dry diaper after. We'll be right here with you." Lucy took a deep breath, nodding slowly as the reality of the situation sunk in. Anne and Peter exchanged a look, their hearts heavy with the oddity of the request but buoyed by the resilience they saw in Lucy. They found a discreet spot, reassuring her with quiet words and the promise that this was just another part of the adventure. As Lucy accepted the situation with a tentative nod, Anne and Peter stood by her, a united front in the peculiar world they had stepped into. They were learning, just as Lucy was, that the path to following a dream could take turns they'd never imagined. Lucy, despite her attempts, found it difficult to let go. The unfamiliar sensation of wearing a diaper, coupled with the public setting, left her tense and unable to relax. Seeing her discomfort, Anne knew she had to intervene. She crouched down beside Lucy and began to tickle her sides gently. Lucy's giggles filled the air, a sound so familiar and heartwarming that it drew smiles from nearby parents despite their own anxieties. The laughter helped Lucy to finally relax, and soon the telltale darkening of the diaper indicated her success. Anne and Peter shared a look of relief. Anne stopped tickling and hugged Lucy close, whispering words of comfort and pride for her bravery. Peter knelt down to join the embrace, ensuring Lucy knew how much they supported and loved her. With a nod from Lucy indicating her readiness, Anne spread the Huggies-branded towel on the floor once more. As Lucy lay back, a brief flash of vulnerability crossed her face, the sensation of a wet diaper being foreign to her. Anne worked quickly, her hands deftly undoing the tapes of the sodden diaper. She lifted Lucy's ankles with a practiced ease, the motion familiar and yet distant, a remnant of Lucy's infancy. Sliding the used diaper away, Anne placed a fresh one underneath her daughter. She pulled it up between Lucy’s legs, securing it with the adhesive tapes, ensuring it was snug but comfortable. Throughout the process, Anne's heart was a blend of nostalgia and maternal pride. She looked at her daughter, so grown up in so many ways, and yet here they were, in this unexpected throwback to her toddler years. The sight was endearing, and for a fleeting second, Lucy was once again the baby she had cradled and cared for. Anne's smile was warm as she helped Lucy to her feet, brushing a strand of hair from her face. In her heart, she whispered a silent gratitude for these moments, these memories being made, even under such unusual circumstances. And as she packed away the towel, Anne cherished the resilience and trust her young daughter had shown today. Finding a relatively quiet spot amidst the hustle of the audition venue, Anne, Peter, and Lucy settled down to wait for their turn. Lucy was unusually quiet, her small frame sinking into the chair, a clear sign of the whirlwind of emotions she had just navigated. The unfamiliar weight of the diaper and the public change had unnerved her, a vulnerability visible in the glassiness of her eyes, hinting at tears she bravely held back. Anne and Peter exchanged concerned glances, their hearts aching at the sight. But they knew their daughter. With gentle encouragement and the unwavering support that had always been the cornerstone of their family, they began to distract her with light conversation, pointing out the various characters in the room, making up silly stories about what kind of secret superhero powers they might have. It wasn’t long before Lucy’s resilience shone through. The tension in her shoulders eased, and the sparkle that so defined her began to return to her eyes. Her parents watched as laughter replaced the quiet, her giggles a testament to the strength of her spirit. Lucy’s ability to rebound, to find joy even in moments of discomfort, was a trait Anne and Peter admired deeply. As Lucy returned to her usual, happy self, chatting animatedly about the audition and the other children she had seen, her parents felt a renewed sense of pride. Their little girl, despite the day’s challenges, remained undaunted, ready to face whatever came next with a smile. Chapter 3 Upon entering the audition room, the atmosphere shifted from the tense anticipation of the waiting area to a more personal and engaging environment. The director, a man with a welcoming smile and a gentle demeanor, immediately put Lucy and her parents at ease with his friendly chatter. Complimenting Lucy on her cuteness in just the diaper, he expressed his surprise upon learning she was six years old. His initial remark about her age brushed Lucy's pride the wrong way. However, his quick recovery, highlighting the advantage of her age for easier direction compared to younger children, brought a reluctant smile to her face. His acknowledgment not only restored her confidence but also made her feel valued for her maturity and cooperation. The director's approach was both thoughtful and strategic, transforming what could have been an awkward moment into an opportunity to build rapport with Lucy. As he introduced the concept of the shoot, explaining that all Lucy needed to do was play with some props and toys while they captured the moments, the audition seemed less like a formal evaluation and more like an invitation to a play session. This setup was perfect for Lucy, allowing her natural curiosity and playful spirit to shine through. The mention of toys piqued her interest, redirecting her focus from the earlier discomforts to the excitement of exploration and play. In this environment, designed to mimic a child's natural habitat of imagination and fun, Lucy was not just a participant in an audition but a kid given the freedom to simply be herself, a quality that the director hoped to capture in the photographs. As the director warmly congratulated Lucy on her performance and assured them they would be in touch, a wave of excitement and relief washed over the family. The whirlwind of the audition had left little room for anything else in their minds. It wasn't until they stepped out into the sunlight of the parking lot that Anne, Peter, and Lucy realized they had forgotten to change Lucy back into her clothes, and she was still clad only in her diaper. Quickly, they retrieved Lucy's favorite red dress from the bag they'd brought along. In a quiet corner of the parking lot, with her parents shielding her from the view of passersby, Lucy slipped her arms through the dress. They decided to keep the diaper on for the moment, considering it a minor oversight in the grand scheme of the day's events. With Lucy now comfortably dressed in her red dress, the family shared a moment of laughter at the oversight, a light-hearted end to an otherwise nerve-wracking experience. It was a reminder of the day's surreal quality, from the unusual request at the audition to the whirlwind of emotions they'd navigated together. As they headed to their car, the tension that had built up over the day began to dissipate, leaving in its wake a sense of accomplishment and the shared hope for what might come next. The audition was over, but the experience and the memories they had made would stay with them, a story to be retold with smiles and laughter in the years to come. — Caught in the sluggish crawl of traffic, the city's rush hour at its peak, Lucy's voice cut through the quiet hum of the car, "I have to pee." Anne and Peter exchanged a look, the earlier oversight suddenly presenting a complicated convenience. With no exit in sight and the cars inching along at a painfully slow pace, Anne turned to Lucy, "Sweetie, if you really need to go, it's okay to use the diaper. We're stuck right now, and it's alright." Lucy, her discomfort evident, wrestled with the idea. She was a big girl, after all, and the thought of using the diaper for the second time in one day was a hit to her pride. She was six, she reminded herself, too old for this, yet the slow crawl of traffic and the pressing need made the decision for her. As the realization settled that she had no other choice, Lucy took a deep breath, her decision made more out of necessity than desire. The moment she let go, allowing the diaper to fulfill its intended purpose, was one of silent concession. This time, the sensation was no longer unfamiliar, but it carried a different weight this time—a mixture of resignation and gratitude for the option. The warmth spread with a soft familiarity, the diaper doing its job just as intended. This second experience, though not novel, brought a nuanced comfort in the midst of inconvenience, a testament to its intended purpose being fulfilled under less than ideal circumstances. By the time they made it home, the relief of being out of the car was tinged with the discomfort of the situation. Anne quickly ushered Lucy to her room for some much-needed privacy and comfort. Standing there, Anne realized she was still holding the package of diapers from the audition. The day's events replayed in her mind, the odd mix of nostalgia and practicality as she had changed Lucy earlier. It was a reminder of times long passed, yet here they were, faced with a choice that seemed to blur the lines between past and present. Anne laid out both a fresh diaper and Lucy's underwear, the two options symbolizing more than just a choice of clothing but a question of moving forward from the day's unusual circumstances. She held them up to Lucy, offering her the decision. "What would you like to wear, honey?" Anne asked, her tone gentle, leaving the choice entirely in Lucy's hands. Lucy's hesitation was a silent communication, her young mind teetering on the brink of comfort and the desire for independence. The memory of the car ride, where the diaper had served a useful purpose in traffic, lingered in her thoughts. Yet, it was the recollection of the audition, the public setting that had amplified her embarrassment, contrasted with the tender care her mother provided, which stirred a deeper reflection within her. Anne, ever attentive to her daughter's cues, recognized the uncertainty that flickered across Lucy's face. In that moment, she understood that sometimes, the comfort and security a child seeks isn't just about the physical. It was about the feeling of being cared for, the undivided attention and love that a parent provides, especially in moments of vulnerability. With a decisive but gentle motion, Anne placed Lucy's underwear back in the drawer, choosing instead to offer her daughter that sense of safety and attention she seemed to be yearning for. Laying Lucy down on her bed, Anne proceeded with the change, transforming the routine into an act of care, imbued with the warmth and love that had always defined their relationship. This moment, far removed from the public eyes of the audition, was a return to the simple yet profound connection between parent and child. The room, filled with the soft afternoon light, became a sanctuary where worries about appearances and judgments were left at the door, allowing Lucy to bask in the comfort and security of her mother's love.

Daniel has been taken to his old woek place though he isn't sure why. Emmy soon makes the reason clear as her grip on him closes like a hand around his throat. --- Writing is my passion and my only source of income. If you enjoy my stories you may be interested to learn that you can see every update I post one week before the rest of the world with a $5 pledge on one of my subscription sites. There has been a lot of upheaval recently with Patreon purging a lot of ABDL content so I have tried to diversify a little so that I can continue to bring everyone stories. For just a $5 pledge on any of these you can see updates a week early and for $10 you can see all of my 50+ EXCLUSIVE stories only available to subscribers. The money I get goes to paying bills and putting food on the table so I appreciate all of my subscribers and would appreciate anyone who might be interested in supporting me to check out my subscription sites ❤️ https://subscribestar.adult/elfy https://reamstories.com/elfy --- “Ooo…” Daniel tried desperately to moan. He couldn’t imagine his co-workers seeing him like that. Emmy marched through the sliding doors and into the lobby. Daniel had re-doubled his efforts to get free, he swung his arms desperately and whined even louder but he couldn’t even slow his cousin down as she went straight to the elevators and pressed the button for the floor of the company Daniel worked for. Daniel wanted to beg and plead for mercy. He wanted to cry and thrash around, he would’ve done anything to get out of this situation. He couldn’t imagine why he was being brought here of all places. As the unlikely pair ascended floor by floor Daniel could feel his heart beating faster. He was desperately trying to clear the cobwebs but at any one moment it felt like three-quarters of his brain was focused within his diaper. With a ding the elevator doors slid open. Daniel froze up completely. Outside the elevator were the offices and cubicles that he had worked at for many years. Sitting at those desks were his co-workers! Daniel was moments away from being seen dressed as a baby in a wet diaper. He was seconds away from the people he liked and who liked him from seeing him harnessed to his giant cousin like a useless baby. There was no escape from the impending humiliation. “Quiet, baby.” Emmy said softly. Daniel hadn’t even been aware that he was whining until his cousin had told him to stop. As Emmy strode into the room Daniel tried to shrink even further away from the eyesight of everyone around him but he couldn’t. As the people at the desks nearest the elevators looked up Daniel felt his eyes fill with tears. He saw the men and women look at him in shock and he could hardly blame them! “Dan?” Vanessa was the first to say his name. Daniel had been crushing on Vanessa ever since the young woman had joined the team half a year previously. Now she was looking at him with shock and disgust. Vanessa speaking up had attracted more attention. Now Daniel could see everyone in the office stop working, anyone who hadn’t immediately noticed this big baby being carried in was now looking. The office was shockingly silent. “Va va!” Daniel desperately tried speaking to Vanessa. Daniel cringed at how he sounded like a baby. He begged his tongue to work around the pacifier but it refused. Clearly Emmy had noticed Daniel’s attempts to communicate and the vibrator was turned up an almost imperceptible amount. It was a tiny increase in buzzing but with the nerves in Daniel’s dick being so sensitive it was immediately noticeable. “What’s going on out here?” Mr. O’Malley marched out of his office at the far end of the room. He had obviously seen everyone stop working and the giantess that had walked in unannounced. Daniel saw his old boss and the differences between himself and the other man were immediately obvious. Whilst Daniel was an overgrown baby cringing in shame Mr. O’Malley was in an immaculate suit and was walking out with confidence. Daniel’s face was burning as he saw the manager of the company look at him, squint as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing before realisation dawned upon him. “Daniel?” Mr. O’Malley said with a frown, “Is that-… What is going on!?” “Ah, are you Daniel’s boss?” Emmy asked. Daniel felt like the two halves of his world were colliding together. The life he wanted, the old one, the boring but normal life that now felt like it hadn’t existed for a lifetime and the new life filled with nothing but humiliation and diapers. “Yes.” Mr. O’Malley replied in obvious confusion, “Who are you?” “My name is Emmy.” Emmy said as she stepped forwards into the centre of the room, “I’m Daniel’s older sister and I’m here to tell you that Daniel is resigning.” Obviously what Emmy was saying raised more questions than it answered. There was murmuring from the crowd as Emmy produced a letter from her pocket and held it out for Mr. O’Malley. Daniel could only watch in horror. Hearing the word “resigning” made Daniel’s mouth open in shock and the pacifier he had been chewing in tumbled out and on to the floor. Suddenly the trip made sense, Emmy was severing the ties to Daniel’s old life! “Resigning?” Mr. O’Malley frowned. “Ooo! I on’t!” Daniel tried crying out for help but his words sounded more like a baby’s cry than anything else. “I’m sorry to say Daniel will not be serving his notice period.” Emmy spoke over the top of Daniel, “As you can see the poor baby is no position to do anything like that. Have a good day.” Emmy turned around and started striding towards the elevators. This was it for Daniel. He was being taken away from his job and he would never be able to come back, even if he escaped how he could possibly ever return to see these people again. As they walked back to the elevator Daniel felt like he was being definitively carried away from everything he had known. “Hold on.” Mr. O’Malley called out. Emmy stopped. Daniel was mortified and just wanted to be out of this situation but as Emmy turned around he saw the whole pantheon of staff looking his way again. Mr. O’Malley was looking at him and frowning, his eyes shifted up to look at Emmy. “If Daniel wants to resign he can tell me himself.” Mr. O’Malley stated. “Fine.” Emmy said. Daniel could hear a hard edge to her voice, “Daniel, why don’t you tell the nice man what you want to do.” Daniel felt himself being lifted out of the harness and lowered towards the floor. This was his chance to finally sort this mess out, he couldn’t speak properly but surely he could make Mr. O’Malley understand. His feel hit the floor and he wobbled, the wet diaper between his legs crinkled with each sway. He screwed up all his concentration and was determined to finally put an end by telling everyone that his insane cousin had kidnapped him! “I… dun… wan… to…” Daniel was speaking slowly and carefully but was getting it done. He felt excitement rising up. All of a sudden the vibrations in Daniel’s diaper spiked. He gasped loudly as the sex toy seemed to get turned up to the max. His knees shook as the orgasm he had been desperately needing for so long started building. His mind was clouding over again, he lost all track of where he was and what he was saying as he stumbled slightly. “Ugh… Ugh…” Daniel’s hands went down to his diaper as a long line of drool came out of the corner of his mouth. Daniel’s knees gave way and he fell on to all fours on the floor. There was a long string of babble coming out of his mouth as he talked to himself. It was like there was no one else there anymore, he was essentially the only person in his little bubble as the tension in his genitals reached an unbearable point. The vibrations that had massaged his balls and dick was now insistently pushing him over the edge. Almost humping against his hand that was cupping his genitals Daniel was exploded with the most powerful orgasm he had ever had. He grunted desperately as his arms and legs became jelly and he slumped down to the ground. He hadn’t blacked out but it felt like every ounce of his energy had been drained and shot out of his cock and into the toy and diaper. The vibrator belatedly and mercifully turned off. Long after Daniel finished spurting his special milk it felt like it continued to dribble out of him. He tried to get up and walk over to Mr. O’Malley. He tried desperately to clear the cobwebs and stand but his arms and legs were essentially useless and all he could do was awkwardly crawl like a baby who hadn’t quite mastered ambulation. When he looked up and saw Mr. O’Malley backing away and shaking his head Daniel knew he was lost. Daniel pushed himself into a sitting position with his wet and sticky diaper underneath him. He reached out his hands towards his boss before realising it must look like he wanted to be picked up. With a trembling bottom lip borne from frustration, exhaustion and despair Daniel start sobbing helplessly. To be so close to his normal life but never further away was devastating. “It looks like this has been a little overwhelming for my little baby.” Emmy said as she stepped forwards to put Daniel back in her harness, “I think we need to be going.” “Pwe… Wao…” Daniel moaned incomprehensibly as he was put back in the harness. “I don’t know what is going on here.” Mr. O’Malley said with a shake of the head, “But you don’t need to resign, Daniel. You’re fired. Take that freak show back on the road before I have to call security.” Daniel reached out but Mr. O’Malley was already turning away. He looked around at the other employees but they simply stared, none of them seemed inclined to help. They eventually turned away and started heading back to their desks as Emmy started walking away. Daniel continued to cry all the way back to the elevator. “Hush, baby.” Emmy said as the doors to the office slid closed, “You see? Now you don’t need to do silly things like escape.” Daniel blubbered like a baby all the way out of the building. As Emmy stepped out into the sunshine humming happily Daniel felt the sex toy coming to life. He slumped forwards as he felt himself growing reluctantly hard again. --- Daniel suckled from Emmy’s breast in the living room. He had his eyes open but all he could see was his cousin’s skin. In the background there was some laughter from a studio audience and Emmy’s chest rapidly moved up and down as she quietly laughed along with the television. Daniel had no idea what was happening on the television, ever since Emmy had brought him into the living room he had been feeding. Emmy’s milk was thick and plentiful. Daniel thought Emmy must use drugs or something to simulate production because it felt like she had an inexhaustible supply. It seemed breast feeding was becoming more and more just how Daniel got his liquids. Whilst Emmy still brought him bottles when he was playing it felt like nearly all his drinks came directly from Emmy’s breast. Daniel had a suction around Emmy’s nipple now and every time he squeezed, flicked or sucked on the breast he would feel a great deal of milk flooding into his mouth. His tummy rumbled, it was full but Daniel knew he would be held to the breast until Emmy was finished. With a slight shifting of position and a sigh Daniel relaxed his bladder muscles and wet himself. Emptying his bladder seemingly making it a little easier to drink some more of Emmy’s creamy milk. He tried not to think about how easily he was soaking his diaper whilst breast feeding but it was difficult to concentrate on anything else. It had been a week since Daniel had “resigned” from work in the most dramatic of fashions. It had truly knocked the stuffing out of his resistance. It felt like one of the few lifelines that still anchored Daniel in his old life had been quite comprehensively severed. Daniel hadn’t given up escaping by any means but since returning to Emmy’s house from his work he had been locked down tighter than a maximum security inmate in a prison. He was practically never out of Emmy’s sight now unless he was left in the multi-coloured walker. In the last seven days he hadn’t seen any chances to escape and it was starting to grind him down. Every time he thought that he might be spending the rest of his life there as Emmy’s “guest” he wanted to break down into tears. “Drink up, baby.” Emmy spoke down to Daniel, “We’ve got places to be today.” Daniel wanted to ask where they were going but Emmy kept his head tight to her breast. He felt so full, a common feeling with Emmy who seemed to like to make sure he was regularly filled to bursting. The large woman’s massive chest would be enough to feed several people his size, Daniel thought. Gasping Daniel was finally allowed to move away from Emmy’s nipple. The area around his mouth was covered in milk and sweat. Emmy allowed him to lay in her arms for a couple of minutes with one hand resting on his bloated tummy. Daniel always felt so lethargic after these giant feeding sessions, his body desperately trying to digest everything that had been put into it. He was lifted up and placed in the walker, his recently wet diaper hugged his crotch that much more closely in the hanging seat. Daniel was too full to play or move so he sat in place just willing his body to process the milk faster. When Emmy came back down the stairs a little while later she was fully dressed and wearing that dreaded harness again. Daniel felt his diaper getting wetter again as he looked at his cousin. He was soon lifted up and put in the harness as usual. “Where are we going?” Daniel asked hesitantly. “To see some friends of mine.” Emmy replied simply, “We saw your friends last week so now we’ll see mine.” --- You can find out how the story ends RIGHT NOW on my subscription pages: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1247265 https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyuiwxy1/chapter/2e298de5-236a-4d7f-aaed-6dc28b1b8e35

Thank you! I really loved the angle of going with feminization without it being a forced or negative thing. He's just a boy who looks really cute with long hair, bows, and little skirts! 🥰 Thank you!!! Chapter Ten “Congratulations, I’m so, so happy for you!” Michelle preened as Candace delivered both the compliment and a pair of gifts. This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for, the moment when her spell, her plans, her life were perfected. Her Little Shower. She’d been to more showers than she could count, but this one was hers, her moment to shine, her moment to get the gifts, and most important of all, her moment to show off her wonderful, perfect Little to the world. On the other hand, Candace’s smile seemed a little forced. “Thank you,” Michelle said, looking at the two boxes she’d been given. “And where’s your Little one?” “He’s in time-out today,” Candace sighed, shaking her head. “He threw another tantrum when I picked out his outfit, so I told him he could either be a good boy or stay in his room and skip the party. Be prepared, Michelle–Littles are cute from the outside, but once you have one, they’re such a handful.” Michelle smirked as she opened the box to find a digital baby monitor with a built-in screen–the same make and model that she’d gotten for her friend only a couple weeks prior. “That’s so thoughtful,” she said, holding it up for Jamie to see. “Baby, look at what Candace got us!” Jamie sat on the other side of the room, buckled into an appropriately sized high chair that Michelle had splurged to get. She’d made him up special for the day, braiding his beautiful hair into pigtails and dressing him in a short, pink, lace-hemmed dress. It was short enough that, sitting in the high chair, anyone who looked at him from the front would see his soggy unicorn-print diapers swollen and drooping between his thighs, an extremely public display of how little control he had. The best part was, Jamie didn’t care. Michelle had explained to him that she wanted the short dress, so she’d be able to tell when he needed a change easily, and he’d thanked her. Michelle had finished the paperwork a week ago to make Jamie officially hers, but she’d only received her copy of his adoption certificate the night before. His employer–his former employer–had Littling insurance for any employees who regressed on the job, and she’d used the payout to furnish his nursery and get him fully moved in. He was hers, in their hearts and in the eyes of the law. “What is it?” Jamie asked, sitting up slightly and leaning forward. While he did, she saw his face screw up a little bit–Jamie didn’t seem to be aware that he was filling his diaper, but Michelle knew. “It’s a baby monitor,” she called, half for the room to hear, half for him. “That way, Mommy can keep an eye on you all the time, even when she’s not in the room!” “That’s so smart!” he declared, nodding excitedly. “Thank you, Candy!” Looking jealous, Candace said, “I will admit–he’s cuter as your Little than he ever was as my coworker.” Michelle thought she caught an unstated thought: Why didn’t I take him while I had the chance? All of Michelle’s friends had come to the shower, and most of Jamie’s, too. Most were supportive, though she caught a few snide remarks here and there. Thankfully, Jamie seemed too oblivious to notice–when one of his old coworkers asked if he ‘really needed someone to change his diapers?’ He replied, “Of course! That’s why I have my Mommy.” The teasing comments hadn’t lasted long, once it became obvious Jamie really didn’t care–he had Michelle, and as long as she cared for him, he’d be happy. Turning to nod to one of her other friends, Michelle mouthed the word ‘cake’, and waited for a nod before addressing Jamie properly. “I got you a little surprise, too, baby!” “Oh?” he asked, kicking his legs excitedly. His cheeks were a bit pink, and he was rocking in his high chair, grinding his recently-used diaper against the wooden seat. Michelle didn’t know if her regression curse was responsible for making him this excitable, or if he’d always had this much of a hair trigger and she’d just found the right buttons to push, but she didn’t care. Jamie loved his diapers almost as much as he loved her, and if he was happy, she was happy too. She’d change him soon, but she wanted to give him his present first. Glancing to see that her friend was walking up with the cake, Michelle explained, “It’s from a special bakery–this cake is all yours, you don’t even have to share.” Eyes widening with even more excitement, Jamie sat forward and nodded. “Oooh, okay!” “It’s a smash cake,” Michelle added. “So you have to do what it says, and smash it!” Nodding excitedly, Jamie sat at the edge of the seat, watching with anticipation as the cake was carried forward. It was made of more than a dozen layers, each of a different pastel color, in the shape of a cone that tapered sharply up, and a little figure made from fondant sat at the top. “Ooooh!” Jamie exclaimed, eyes sparkling with glee. Michelle had picked it out especially, getting a cake that looked like the cover of Wowee, the Places You’ll See, by Professor Pleasant. Jamie’s favorite author–even before he’d been regressed. The cake was placed on his high chair, and Jamie’s eyes widened, looking to Michelle for reassurance, as though to ask, ‘it’s really for me?’ She nodded. “Go ahead, baby–it’s all yours.” Raising both hands, Jamie splattered the cake, showering his dress and face with crumbs and frosting. That was okay–the dress was stain resistant, picked out for just this reason. Several partygoers laughed, and most wore appreciative smiles at the show. Smash cakes weren’t just fun for the Little, there was something entertaining about just watching Jamie’s pure delight. His hands were immediately coated with bits of the dessert, and Jamie shamelessly began to lick his fingers clean. Adorable, precious Jamie, licking frosting off his fingers at a Little Shower, just like he’d been when she first met him. “You have as much of that cake as you want, sweetheart,” Michelle said, “And then we’ll get your tushy changed, okay?” Eyes widening a little, Jamie’s face shone with adorable indecision–he had four frosting-coated fingers stuffed into his mouth, but at the promise of a change, he suddenly had two wonderful things in front of him. He wriggled, and Michelle caught when his eyes rolled back in arousal, but he still wanted the cake, too. Giggling, Michelle said, “Do you want a diaper change and then your cake, silly boy?” Wriggling, he nodded, two fingers still in his mouth as he said, “Yeth pweath!” Michelle reached forward to pull away the high chair tray, turning to address the room. “Don’t worry, this little stinker will get back to his cake very soon.” Helping Jamie to stand, she asked, “Do you want to go somewhere private?” “Dun’ care,” he said, focused on licking his remaining fingers clean, getting as much frosting as possible. Swelling with excitement, Michelle laid him down right there in front of everyone. His first public change, and her first time getting to show everyone just how much Jamie loved her. Kneeling over him, Michelle smiled at her Little, her baby boy. “I’m so glad you’re mine.” He nodded. “I love you, Mommy. I’m so glad you can take care of me!” Wriggling, he raised his hips, squirming in his full diaper, thrusting against the air. Shameless. Perfect. “I love you too,” she said, brushing his hair back from his face. “My baby.” Sitting up slightly, Jamie raised his head, indicating that he wanted to whisper his next words. Michelle obliged, and leaned in, listening to what he said. “Promise that you’d still love me even if I stopped being a grown up?” He looked so sweet, cake smeared over his face, pink princess dress pulled up to expose his dirty diaper, lying on the floor in front of all his former coworkers and friends while awaiting a diaper change, that Michelle didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d long since lost his maturity. Instead, she just leaned in, kissing him on the lips. “Of course, baby. You’re mine no matter what.” The End ... And that's the story. Thank you all for reading. ❤️ I hope you liked it! (Please leave a comment if you did! Every comment makes my day a little brighter.) Please consider donating a couple dollars a month to support my writing - every bit adds up to go a long ways, and I wouldn't be able to write stories like this without the incredible generosity of my readers. ❤️ https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

It's dark out, good thing I have a nightlight!

That's a good point little ashy! I think my little age is more 3 years old now, like it was in the beginning when I first started to age regress, because like you said I can still run around in diapers and do baby things while having some of the perks of being a big boy. Oh, and I can also sleep in a crib like babies do too. Although I'm too little to use the potty and if I try to, I have lots of accidents that's why I'm barely 3 years old, not a big 3 year old like 3 and a half. That's potty training age and I'm no where near that big. I still a little 3 years old and I still prefer to drink out of a baby bottle. Chocolate milk from a baba, just like the little cubs drink. But if I'm feeling really little then I turn into 11 months and have to be bottle fed by Mommy and Daddy, or you! And or changed just like the little baby that I am on the baby changing mat.

As you know my age-play age is older than both, but out the two options given I'd rather be a toddler. Toddlers can get some of the perks of being a baby (diapers, strollers ETC) but with a little more independence

When you're being arrested 20 times in a row in the same spot so all the legacy media press can have their climate propaganda pics. You might indeed need diapers. In my honest opinion, we'd be better off feeding her to a polar bear tho 😛

No characters will be harmed in the creation of this story. I am unable to provide any such assurances about minor embarrassment, however.

For me being an adult baby, I poop in my diapers no matter where I am. I don't use the potty to poop because adult potties are only for grown-ups, adults, and big kids who have passed potty training. Since I am an adult baby, I potty in my diapers no matter where I am.

I used to use the baby change at Debenhams to, much better than standing up in a toilet cubicle

From my limited experience on AO3, while they do have original stories, they're more geared toward fanfiction? Or the fanfiction sections seem to be more popular? For the stories posted here, I can speak from an author's POV- as an author, I love comments and feedback, especially if the work is an inprogress piece because it lets me know what readers think, what parts or characters they enjoy, or what parts or characters they don't like. That helps me know as an author if I'm hitting my mark- is my story coming across as I intended it to, or do I need to rework some things in the piece?

Any time I can, did it today Not to work though. Today I went swimming, and put a nappy on afterwards. Then I went to the bank and some shops and had a cup of tea in Subway. I was pretty damp when I got home. I love using my nappies in public too

Yes I've done it and would again. I am conscious of the smell though and I clean up as soon as I can, quickly. But otherwise I love it. I wear and use my nappies in public just like a baby would and pooping is part of that. Knowing that I am wearing and using a babyish print nappy right next to someone is kinda fun. I can wet anywhere but pooping I do away from others, in case of the smell. The first time I pooped my nappy in public was planned and I knew where the toilets were so I could change quickly. But I did walk around the shop for a bit with my full nappy just enjoying the feeling

Another great chapter. Kelly's character is perfect, she's like the personification of nails on a chalkboard. As always looking forward to more. Not sure that that's completely true, at least not in the US recently, especially with events in the last couple years in many communities where cops have done more harm than good. Then again, Kelly's character definitely doesn't seem like the type of person to feel that way anyway, so your point is legitimate in the story's case.

Ted suddenly felt a cool hand cup his flaming hot butt. With a gentle tap, Lara encouraged him up. “Ok hun, all done with spanks for tonight. Why don’t you get a pull-up on and get into bed.” A wave of shame and indignation passed over the young man. It wasn’t fair! They said he only had to wear Goodnites when he was drinking. He hadn’t had a drop that night! But the feeling of Lara’s hand on his prone backside made Ted think better of arguing. He resigned himself to just put the diaper on, and get some sleep. As he rose off the bed, Lara scooped up the loose pull-up and handed it to him. She allowed herself a quick look at his impressive package. “We want to see how they fit,” she explained. “They look pretty thin, so Stacey and I want to make sure they’ll do the job.” Completely humiliated, but with resignation, Ted accepted the childish garment and stepped into it. Lara watched eagerly as it stretched up and over his thighs. Ted winced, rose on his toes and nearly started crying again as the tight fitting pull-up crinkled and rubbed over his swollen bottom. He did not remember his Goodnites fitting this snuggly as a preteen. And of course, he’d never worn them over a bruised backside. Seeing Ted’s manly frame squeezed into the tight diaper, Lara could contain herself no longer. She approached him and invasively pulled and prodded at the thin padding. “Hmm… yeah, I don’t know, Stace. I think these will definitely leak,” said Lara. “Especially if he pees as much as he did last night.” Ted felt the heat rise in his cheeks. It was embarrassing enough to stand in front of two hot college girls while wearing nothing but a diaper. It was so much more humiliating the way they discussed his bed wetting as though he wasn’t even in the room. He felt like three year old. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “I think you’re right. We’ll have to look for something more absorbent before the weekend,” said Stacey. “But for now, it’s bedtime for this naughty little boy.” She gave Ted a big hug. Her warm body against his bare flesh made him relax a bit. “Goodnight Teddy,” she said softly. “Welcome to the club.” She smiled, tapped his padded butt and left the room. Lara came in for a hug herself. She squeezed him tightly, then pulled back, holding the boy by his shoulders. “You trust us right?” she asked with a sweet smile. Ted blushed. He smiled back and nodded. “We’ll get this sorted out, don’t you worry.” Lara cupped the crotch of his Goodnites with her fingers, eliciting a twitch and sudden bulge beneath the padding. “And it will always stay our little secret. Just like the spankings.” Ted beamed. He felt affection, caring, love. But all he could do was continue smiling and nodding. “Alright, in to bed buster.” Lara sent him toward the bed with a sharp slap on his sore bottom. “And straight to sleep! Or else…” Ted yelped and dived under the covers. He was asleep before Lara left the room.

Chapter 2: Swirling the flute of champagne, Dani is all too aware of the number of rules she is breaking. She’d only had a few sips, obviously not enough to get her drunk but it had been three years since she even looked at any alcoholic drink and the nerves were eating up her insides. Besides at the rate the other girls were going, she didn’t even have time to catch up. Suddenly, Dani puts the glass down with a clang feeling that poison has infected her system and was is to get it away. Carly notices from across the room, coming over with a frown on her face. “Don’t tell me you're not drinking.” She pouts, sitting beside her on the couch. “You were the life of the party!” Yes, she was. Note the past tense. That was before in her wild and free eighteen year old self era with no self control and a penchant for trouble. “Oh don’t be too hard on the baby. I’m sure she’s just missing her nap time bottle. That’s right about now, isn’t it? But oh wait, you get straight from the source, is that right…” Stupid Holly McDonald with her rat-like face always sniffing for trouble. Dani has no response. They’d been friends once upon a time but ever since she was taken, Holly had become extremely nasty. Dani knew that she was just worried, like they all were, with the close presence of an Amazon and took her frustrations out on the easiest target. Her. Dani didn’t even have the guts to fight back because her feelings were valid. She was a problem everyone just chose to ignore and nothing was as it used to be. What was the point in even pretending? “Holly, don’t say that!” Carly rolled her eyes. “You’re ruining my party! Go complain somewhere else!” Carly was loyal to a fault, always had been. “Holly being a bitch again?” Olivia came back holding three shot glasses. Dani covers the yawn with her hand, attempting to be discreet. The worst thing was that Holly was right. She was missing nap time and having been on the strict schedule for the last three years, she was fucking tired at only three pm. “It’s fine.” Dani says. “She’s just being how she always is.” The three of them share a look. They’d been friends since high school, slowly doubling their group in the first year of college where Holly joined and two weeks after the start of first semester, Abby found Dani. The Little hadn’t been able to get housing on campus so her parents piled all the money they had into the apartment. Since then, she hasn't a clue what’s happened to them. Abby was considerate but keeping in contact with her parents was the one thing she wouldn’t budge on and her friends hadn't been home since. A number of Amazons had apparently moved into their predominantly Little town since and it just wasn’t worth the risk to go back. “Why do we put up with her again?” says Olivia, pulling her from her thoughts. Carly. They both know. The girl saw something in her (like she sees in everyone) and Dani supposes the two of them were just blind to whatever it was. “Enough of this dreary talk!” Carly slurred her words. “Let’s drink because this bitch is getting hitched!” The room erupted in cheers, glasses clanging and in a moment she would come to regret, Dani thought, fuck this. Tipping her head back, the liquid slid down with ease. “Lemon and salt quickly!” Tequila. Oh fuck. Her face scrunched up in disgust. That was the beginning of the end of the night. ooOoo They danced, seductively swaying their hips side to side dressed in just a lacy thong and bra. Olivia and Dani pressed against each other, giggling about God knows what and Dani could only wonder, is that what her life would have been like if she’d managed to keep her mouth shut that fateful day? Her other clothes had slowly disappeared throughout the day and god knows where they’d gone. Rule number two was now broken: no naughty behavior. The others were in various states of undress after a hefty game of strip poker. The world was spinning, the lights bright and the music going babump, babump, babump at the back of her mind. Abby was going to murder her. She takes another sip of her drink, something stronger. She doesn’t know what. Carly is completely off her rocker and Dani… she was even more. It’s why she didn’t shy away at the sight of the man in the apartment. Her eyes roamed down his perfectly toned abs, peeking out from behind the white dress hurt only half buttoned at the bottom. She smirked, lip slipping between her teeth and she didn’t try to hide her very open gaze. He was handsome and muscular with gorgeous green eyes and the fluffiest hair known to man that she just couldn’t resist running her fingers through. He towered over her at six feet and while most people did, she didn’t feel tiny in comparison. A warmth spread throughout her body the moment he placed his hands on her hips as she straddled his waist. The Bride to Be had her turn and now it was Dani’s and let her tell you, it was quite the performance. They moved together back and forth, tuning out the cheers and she pushed just a tiny bit closer into him as his hand slipped up her thigh. Someone let out a whistle and Dani threw her head back laughing. This was just too perfect. It was almost as if she was free again and the world was at her fingertips. She didn’t want the night to end. Now, even after the entertainment had concluded, the man stuck around. Hiding in the hall from the others, he cupped her face, trailing his thumb over her plump pink lips. He was devastatingly handsome and Dani couldn’t have wanted him more. “Is your name really Little Johnny Boy?” she smirks. “What do you think?” They laugh. He leans in, leading a trail of kisses along her neck down to her collarbone. “I never did get your name.” he whispers as warm breath tingles against her skin. She pauses, for half a second, her name on the tip of her tongue. “It doesn’t matter.” “I’d say otherwise.” He pulls back, staring at her with a daze in her eyes, like he wanted to scoop her up and take her away forever to the fantasy island she always dreamed of. But there was no point leading him on when any further relationship was impossible. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. What if I want to see you again after tonight?” Oh, she’d want nothing more but she looks away, blinking away the tears that burned at the back of her eyes. Dani had promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. Not tonight. “I…” she gulped. “It’s not a good idea. I’m not someone you want to be around-” “I find that very hard to believe.” His voice is low, protesting her every word. He leans closer, shushing her with his lips hovering just above her’s. Moaning beneath his touch, caressing every inch of her body, Dani thinks, this is it. They’re gonna kiss. They’re gonna- “Oh no!” The spell is broken. Suddenly, she is clutching her abdomen, bent over with an aching type of pain she’s all too familiar with. “Are you okay?” His voice is panicked as he places a hand on her back. “B-bathroom!” She hisses through a clenched jaw. Why Lord. Why now? She’s almost crying. The world really did seem to hate her. “Oh shit, you’re gonna puke!” Yeah, let’s go with that… Her stomach grumbled and she knew that everything that went down would have to come up (or down). Stupid gluten. Stupid drink. Stupid Amazons! Dani just about screamed in frustration, yanking on the locked bathroom door. Giggles are heard from the other side and she swears. “Do you need a bucket?!” The man still hadn’t left her side and his overattentativnes was starting to become a thorn in her side. “Please!” Dani groaned, heading towards Carly’s room. “Leave me alone!” “But-“ She slammed the door in his face and the Little was in too much agony to feel bad. The diaper is where she left it, tossed to the side on the ground and she doesn’t waste a moment. Ripping off her bottoms she slips the thick padding between her legs. She holds onto the sides, unable to tape them on her own and squats. Her sphincter clenched and she strains, pushing out a muddy wet slide and the cramping slowly lifts from her body. It takes less than a minute and then it’s over. Dani bursts into tears, mascara running down her cheeks as she tries to pinpoint the exact moment her life went to shit. “Babe?” A voice calls. “I saw you run in here!” Olivia. “I’m coming in.” Oh god. The blood rushes from her face. How the fuck would they joke their way out of this situation? There were some things nobody could see, not even Olivia. But it was too late. Opening the door, the girl freezes at the sight of the brown lump hanging from her behind. Her hand covers her nose. “If you think I’m cleaning your filthy ass up… think again.” Dani’s lips quiver yet a hint of a smile still makes an appearance. “I need to go. Just look at me.” She whispers, gesturing towards the absolute horridness coming from her bottom half. “How the fuck am I going to explain this to Abby?” The straps were undone showing that she’d clearly taken off the diaper, her face stained with makeup and had the slightly clouded look in her eye from too much drink. Oh, there was going to be hell to pay. For once, Olivia is silent. There was no way out of this. “Maybe-” “Guys!” Someone screectches. They both jump, startled at Carly’s wild expression as she suddenly bursts into the room. The girl is so frazzled that she doesn't even notice their current predicament. “It’s seven fifty nine! You have to go!” “What?” They both shout. How had the time gone so fast? Dani looks down at her phone seeing the missed text from Abby twenty minutes ago that she was on her way. There was no time to change or wipe her face clean or even say goodbye to the others… “Put this on and carry your shoes down!” They hurried, gathering her items and stuffing them in her one arm she wasn’t using to secure her… waste. “Carly, I’m-I’m sorry-” “Just go!” They hurry her out the door and down the hall, the others confused at the sudden commotion. The music fades into the distance, passing the elevator and heading straight for the staircase. “Hey!” Dani turns her head back, seeing the guy from the party. He’s running after her standing just a floor above. “Where are you going? I never got your name!” He leans over the railing, voice echoing out. “I’m sorry! I’ve got to go!” Please don’t follow, please don’t follow. He continues down the stairs. Dani is almost outside. Her heart pounds in her chest and shit is running up her back but that’s the least of her concerns. “Wait!” She hears him shout but she’s already out the door. “You’ve dropped your shoe!” OoOoo Abby is waiting, leaning against the car. She expected that Dani would be late but what she sees is so much more. Hair tousled, make-up running down her cheeks and one shoe in hand, the girl freezes for half a second before bursting into tears. “Mommy!” She wails. Dropping the items to the ground, she waddles the short distance, arms lifting to be picked up. That prompts her into action. “Oh baby…” She doesn’t waste a moment, scooping her into her arms as the girl sobs into her neck, snot running from her nose. Abby can feel the warmth of a fresh mess beneath her hand and lifting up the back of her dress, it’s spread all over her freckled skin. Her hand freezes then, seeing the undone straps and by some miracle she’d been able to hold it up. The Amazon knows what has happened, call it a sixth sense if you will, but now was not the time to be mean Mommy. They would deal with that tomorrow and the plethora of other obviously broken rules. Right now, all Dani needed was a boatload of love. “H-Home!” The Little gasped for breath. “Wanna go home!” “And so we shall baby. Don't you worry a pretty little hair on your head.” They make it home before Dani even has time to worry over the events from today. Held in one arm, Abby strips the girl at the door, tossing the clothes aside. They were going to be burned tomorrow. Anything to do with this obviously disastrous party was going to be cleansed from her mind, even if that meant permanent separation from those nasty Littles. Honestly, Abby was half-tempted to call the authorities to have them properly put in their place but she restrained herself. Anger made people do stupid things and while she wouldn’t regret her actions, she’d regret hurting Dani. Her hold tightened on the Little, restraining her fury. Pressing her nose into her hair breathing in the strawberry scented baby shampoo, for the first time that evening, she allowed herself to exhale knowing Dani was back in her arms. She’d sat by her phone the entire day, anxious at the thought of her little girl being without her. They’d been apart before, allowing Dani to meet her little friends for lunch or go to the Little spa in town for the afternoon. But that was only for an hour or two and she hung around the area, keeping a watchful eye out. But obviously this had been a humongous error. Abby knew that the Little wouldn’t follow the rules but she didn’t think she’d be sobbing at the end of the night. The Amazon decided this would be learning opportunity that she’d be sure to never repeat. “M-mommy?” The tiny girl in her arms whimpered. “Hush, darling.” She whispered, kissing the top of her head. “We’re going to take a warm bath and clean off this messiness.” The girl nodded content but the words lingered on the tip of her tongue. “I was naughty. Punish now?” “No.” She said immediately. “Not now. Tonight is for mommy and baby.” Tomorrow was a different story. Tomorrow, they’d have a lengthy talk on the dangers and consequences of disobeying Mommy. But Little Dani didn’t need to know that because it would only send her into a further panic. Now an hour later, all squeaky and clean, Dani couldn’t have been any more relieved. She didn’t even put up a fight as Abby double padded her in the annoying crawler diapers that wouldn’t let her stand. She didn’t cry as she was curled up in a ball and the fuzzy pink swaddler blanket was wrapped tightly around her body restricting any movement. Her cheek rubbed against the fabric, almost purring at the feel. And she didn’t even notice as the plastic pacifier bouncing between her lips was switched out for a voluminous breast full of milk, sluggishly attaching herself to the nipple. This wasn’t an everyday thing and that’s what made it even more special. Dani just loved to gloat about how she was a big girl not like the other silly babies but she was more babyish than she even realized and when the Little slipped, she slipped hard. Abby just wished that she would just let go completely because really she would be so much happier. She wanted to enjoy it while it lasted because tomorrow would be a nightmare as she came down from the high, battling the internal demons that told her she had to be Big. That she couldn’t be Little. If only she could make her see… OoOoo The morning came and up woke Little Miss Crabby Pants. Abby sighed, glancing at the clock showing it was only half seven. And on a Saturday. Great. She scowled, knowing the girl would howl for hours until she got her way but Abby wouldn’t give in. Not this time, especially after last night. She picked up the monitor, watching the little girl attempt to spit out her pacifier and wriggle out of the swaddle only to fail but didn’t stop her from trying over and over again. “ABVYYYY!” her voice was muffled by the rubber sucker. “WEHMEOU!!” With an attitude like that? She could stay in her crib all day. Making sure Dani wasn’t actually hurt, the Amazon went on with her morning. She would allow the girl to cry and whine and hiss profanities until her resolve broke down. Two hours later it happened. She relaxed in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee and finally starting on her book when there was finally a change. “Mommy?” her small voice echoes through the monitor. “Mommy, I sowwy… Mommy pweasee!” Abby watches as a tear dribbles down her cheek, eyes pleading for a release and forgiveness. Content that the Little has realized the error of her ways, she makes her way towards the room. Her eyes are red and puffy and gnawing on the inflated bulb, stares at her with the most resigned look. “I see my little potty mouth is awake.” Oh, Dani didn’t like that. She hmphs in response as the woman walks into the room, the fight reigniting in her eyes, but not really, she was tired. Any argument now was just for show. “Can Mommy take out your paci or do we need it in for the rest of the day?” Her brows formed into an upside down V, frustration written all over her face. She shakes her head, pushing down the annoyance as much as she can. “Very good,” she hums in approval. “You were such a sweet little baby last night, I hoped it would continue into today.” Reaching down over the tall bars, she wriggles the object from between her lips as it deflates. Immediately, Dani opens her mouth wide, trying to be rid of the ache in her jaw. “Let’s get you changed. From the smell of it, you didn’t only go number one.” Dani is grateful as the blanket is undone, stretching her arms and legs out. She pulls her body up by the bars standing on her tippy toes and reaching up to be let out. Laid down then on the changing table, she scowled at her soiled diaper for the second day in a row. “You did this to me!” “I never forced you to regress last night, Dani. You did that all on your own. You wanted my milk and who am I to deny such a tiny little girl?” Last night was fuzzy as her brain tried to work out the jumbled up fragmented pieces. She remembers the party, shitting herself and the dreamy man loving her in a way no one has before. However, after that it is all a blur. Dani knows that she slipped. It happens every so often but each time she can feel her body losing more and more control her mind losing more time it seemed. She knew partly it was the milk because Amazon’s breast milk broke down a Little’s inhibitions, slowing their brainwaves making them unable to think clearly. Over time, frequent consumption lead to scrambled minds and scrambled diapers. Basically, it had the same effects of alcohol yet for some reason, it was viewed as a good toxin. Plus it was delicious, Dani was ashamed to admit. Now, wiped, powdered and freshly re-diapered, the Little sits up shooting the Amazon an incredulous look. “Why am I still in a diaper?” “You should know the answer to that question Dani.” “Last night.” “Precisely.” They move to the rocking chair and facing the Amazon, straddling her hips there is nowhere else for her to turn. Dani doesn’t even know where to begin. Lowering her head in shame, she felt like a teenager again, the morning after sneaking out of the house to a party. She was sixteen years old at the time and her parents did not hold back, chastising her to hell and back. “This is my punishment? Diapers all day?” It is a rhetorical question that Dani already knows the answer to. She would like to think this is all but it is too easy. She’d crossed the line one too many times and Abby was not about to let this go. “Don’t pretend, Daniella. I’m talking to you like an adult right now.” Oh no. Dani gulped, this really wasn’t good. Slowly, raising her head, she’s struck by the intensity in her gaze. “Do you remember when I first adopted you? The promise we made to each other.” “Yes.” Her voice is just a whisper. “Say them.” the Amazon’s tone leaves no room for argument. “If I respect you then you will respect me.” “Exactly. Respect is a two way street and it has to be earned. I’ve given you many liberties, much more than I probably should. Have I not?” “You have.” Dani mumbled. Inside of the house, she wasn’t forced to wear diapers or pull-ups, could use the bathroom by herself (sans shower) and could eat anything wanted pretty much except for her daily bottle of cow’s milk at the mandatory nap time and bed time; plus she could watch anything that wasn’t rated R and she got to see her friends at least once a week. Dani didn’t know any other adopted Little who lived like that. She was privileged yet always complained about everything she couldn’t do. Not what she could. “I don’t know everything that happened last night but I know enough. You’ve broken any trust I have in you, disrespecting my rules.” Her bottom lip wobbles. “I’m sorry-” “No.” Abby stops her. “You are not sorry for what you did. You are sorry for being caught.” The Little has no response. Tears brim in the corner of her eyes. “Tell me. How many rules did you break last night?” She’d know if she was lying but Dani just wasn’t willing to give up everything. Not the boy. He was hers to cherish. “Daniella Brady.” A sharp slap lands on her thigh. “Do I need to repeat myself?” “No no!” She jumps, unconsciously sucking on the tip of her thumb. “Two rules. I broke two rules! I drank alcohol and was very naughty.” Abby lets out a heavy breath, staring at her face for a moment to sniff out any other lie but finding none. The Amazon sighs, “Do you know why I don’t like you drinking? Do you know why I sent you in a diaper and those clothes?” Obviously. Dani struggles not to roll her eyes. Littles were viewed as nothing more than children playing adult in this world. “It’s not what you think.” What? She blinks, confused as to what other reason there can be. “You have obviously drank before and partied, we all have, that is a part of life. But now, it is no longer your life. You are an adopted Little. Imagine I was late picking you up and you stumbled outside drunk having messed yourself. An Amazon passing wouldn’t hesitate to take you, dressed in your little skimpy outfit, without proper protection and absolutely wasted. You wouldn’t be the only be in trouble. So would I-“ “Then why did you even let me go? Why do you let me do anything I do?” Dani blurted. “Giving me all of these freedoms is like dangling a carrot in front of my face. It’s right there and I can almost touch it yet it’s ripped away every time, just out of reach.” It’s torture, absolutely heartbreaking yet she’d be even worse having them taken away. “Because,” Abby gulped as if she was struggling to grab hold of her emotions. “I could tell the day we met, that was what you needed. I did not want to be your captor. I was not about to take away all of your freedoms because I would only be a monster in your eyes. I wanted a companion. Someone who would look up to me and trust in me just as I did to you.” Abby hadn’t even wanted her to go to this party in the first place because everyone knew how they went, Little or Amazon. However, she knew it was important for Dani to not only be there for her friend but for herself. Allowing her to maintain connections to her old life was her way of attempting to allow Dani to find some acceptance in her current life. Just in the past few years, she’d already missed so many of the big moments. If she could see her friends, the ones she loved, accomplishing their dreams perhaps it could heal the tiny part in her missing. “However, after a lot of thought last night, I’ve realized that I’ve grossly miscalculated the whole situation.” The Little froze. Hearing a change in her tone, Dani knew this was going to be something she wouldn’t like. “We need to go back to the beginning, relearn the basics of what it means to be a Little. Whether you want to accept it or not, you are ridiculously tiny and absolutely adorable. If I hadn’t snatched you up that day, somebody else way worse would have. Your horrid attitude is going to get you in trouble one day and I won’t be able to save you.” Where in the hell was she going with this… Dani was concerned. “You’re bratty and disobedient and have got a wicked mouth that I’ve not spanked you enough for. What I’m trying to say is that… I’m sending you to Etiquette school. Perhaps now you’ll realize what a good life you have lived.” She opens her mouth, eyes-wide but no words come out. She’s speechless. Whatever Dani thought Abby was gonna say, it was not that. The Little doesn’t remember what happened next as a black hood falls over her eyes and she fades away. OoOoo A/N: Hey everyone!! Here’s the second chapter, I hope you all enjoyed! Abby is starting to realize that maybe, she’s been a little too lenient in the past and Dani is realizing that she’s screwed up big time. As always, I love reviews and so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think!

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story or for the first story, go to the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/86107-a-stuffys-tale-one-bunnys-journey-in-the-diaper-dimension-chapter-17-complete/ For those interested in the sequel to the first story and the near parallel story of this one, go to the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/90405-dashs-redemption-a-stuffys-tale-and-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-15-complete/ Hey everyone! So, as promised, this is the follow-up mostly concurrent story with Dash’s Redemption. I know that story didn’t prove to be the most popular of all the stories I’ve written, but I think this one should be a little more of the standard fair, and to be blunt, I’m almost kind of using this as a bit of a palate cleanser before moving on with my other stories this year. Further, due to how this one even popped up and the fact that I’m going to probably be shying away from other stuffy’s tales in the near future, I just wanted to finish this one up right away, rather than waiting a long time on it. If I continue to do the voting for the next stories from you all, I have a feeling I wouldn’t get to this story for a very long time, if ever. So, I’m doing it here and I’ll probably be going very fast through it. Unless something massively changes, expect successive days of chapter postings. Also, just as a tiny warning here, there is a particular scene that could be troubling to some readers in here. I do have my little warning previously, but I just wanted to add another one here. It doesn’t last long, but I just wanted to ensure that everyone knew about it first. Also, on that note, Emma’s story has already been partially written out, and sometimes, to fall, things need to break a bit. Please keep that in for the other chapters as well… Moving forward, right now, this story is standing at about 16 chapters. While that’s about twice the length I was originally thinking it was going to be, I think you all will definitely enjoy the fleshed-out characters more and some of the implications and connections I’ve added here. All that being said, I’m only going to be polling two stories this go around. As I stated at the end of my previous story, because this story wasn’t even on the list, the polling will just be between the Tell Me More sequel, or the Bethany semi-follow up to The Opening. For those of you just reading this story, I will be sharing these two options at the start of my next chapter. Lastly, just to clarify, when I said that I was going to ‘retire’ the age regression virus story, I only meant that I wasn’t going to include it in the polling for just the next few stories at least. I may consider asking about second choices, which admittedly could have changed the outcome of what I was seeing you all wanting this round, but I’ll keep that in mind for a future story poll after this one. For now, in the year of mostly sequels, I usually include in the poll two sequel stories, and one new story, and at the moment, I will just be including another completely separate story instead of the age regression virus story. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: I Was a Teacher on Break Well, I finally made it here. A month of research and continuous travel agents talked to, had all led up to me being here… in another dimension no less. I of course had been born before they came, but now, almost 20 years later, it just felt like a distant memory. The therapist I used to see said it was repressed memories or some nonsense like that, but basically, I always just remembered the race of Amazons, sorry, Bigs, in my life. Alternate dimensional theory was now a cornerstone of most college courseloads, but still… being here and seeing everything, really was just something else. I had heard the rumors about this place, but I had always just chalked them up to paranoid people trying to get in the way of everyone enjoying our new paradise on Earth. After all, life expectancies had essentially doubled and things like medicine, energy, and education were all on the rise. In retrospect, it’s probably why I became a high school English teacher. I was Miss Breckenridge, or Miss Emily if they were trying to suck up to me somehow, but it was a solid job, and I got most summers off if I chose to. With our salaries much higher than decades before, teaching had become the hot new career for aspiring academics. That being said, despite all the changes, raging teenage hormones and attitudes did not. So, out in Arizona, when the summer session was coming up in the beginning of May, I decided to spread my wings a little bit and try something new. * * * “Are you really going?” Vicky asked me skeptically, her history teacher roots making her highly suspicious of any country or race coming to another, where one was drastically more technologically superior to the other. “What if it’s like the Aztecs and the Spanish… and we’re the Aztecs?” I could feel the raw apprehension in my friend, and I stopped packing up my room for one moment to try and ease her mind. “Relax, Vicky. You worry too much about that sort of stuff. It’s been over twenty years since they came, and we’re all still here. No smallpox or invading army turning us into slaves.” I was actually quite impressed I could still remember her nerdy little reference and shoot something back to her myself. There was a reason I was an English teacher instead. She just shook her head though. “English teachers… you all are just dreamers… I bet you imagine yourself like some brave new explorer going over there, huh? Like in one of your precious books?” I smiled. “Oh, yes. Emily Breckenridge… explorer extraordinaire!” She lightly shoved me on the shoulder. “I’m serious, Em. Jus be careful, will you?” She then lowered her voice and walked slowly closer to me. “Look, I just read this article about some guy that went over there. There’s some freaky stuff going on. Like treating you all like… babies.” I rolled my eyes. “Give me a break, Vic. I read the same stupid article as well, and the five stories that have been published like that since I was a teenager, as opposed to the hundreds of positive stories. I mean, did you happen to read that it was posted in some tabloid piece originally? I think it was even nestled between Aliens replaced my cousin and the fountain of youth being discovered near some daycare in Florida in that issue. You can’t believe everything you read. I might be a lowly English teacher,” I joked, “but take it from me… you can’t believe everything you read. I mean, you don’t really think that Mr. Darcy was real, do you?” Now, it was Vic’s turn to roll her eyes. “Fine, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She then retreated back to my classroom door before turning back to me with a face I could only recognize as worry. “Just promise me you’ll be safe, okay?” I sighed and paused once again as I packed all my stuff up for the summer. “Yes, Vic. I will be as careful as I can be. I’ll even stay in contact with the embassy as soon as I get settled, okay?” My friend just nodded, heaved a great sigh, and left my classroom. I could tell that she was legitimately worried about me, and to be honest, I was no fool and had done my research. It was almost a hobby of mine now I had spent so much time on it, but I had thoroughly investigated every company and agency getting people over there. After numerous searches, I had finally found a tour group that seemed pretty open and widely expansive across the country. Plus, they boasted, with real statistics, a 90% success rate, even over multiple trips. For perspective, the next highest was only at 70%. So, armed with my new knowledge, I packed my last To Kill a Mockingbird marked-up copy away and headed back out to my car. I refueled at the nearest EV charging station, went home and retrieved my travel suitcase, passport, and papers, and hailed a driver to take me to the nearest rail station. The new rails were all the rage lately to get between the states and plus, they connected most of the country together now. Having one just on the outskirts of Phoenix, I was able to get to most places in the country in half the time it used to take. To my delight, that included the portal facility out in Nevada. Unfortunately, they were still constructing the one to serve the greater Arizona area, but with the rail lines, I was just as happy to go to a main transport hub, instead of bouncing around the country to get to your intended destination like before. So, one 300 mph trip later, I rocketed into place right in front of the portal facility now gleaming before me. “Miss?” a kindly woman waved at me. “Checking in today?” I nodded and rolled my bag over to her. “Yes, uh, one flight to Virgan,” I informed her as I grabbed the ticket in my top suitcase pocket. It was hard not to get frustrated with the paper copies, but apparently last year, some poor guy was sent to Australia on their side because his electronic ticket was hacked by Big spies on this side of the portal. I wish I could say that it was an isolated incident. “Hmmm… Virgan. A very exciting and upcoming place. Come this way,” she beckoned me inside. I, of course, followed behind her and to the travel desk located just inside. Some portal facilities acted just like any other airport terminal, while the one here in Nevada favored the more ‘personal touch.’ According to their website I had read up on a month ago, it led to less unfavorable incidents. ‘Less though… not none…’ The lady quickly helped me along and after checking that I was all set, she handed my ticket back to me. “Perfect. You’re all set, and it actually looks like we’ve got a portal coming right up to Virgan in the next 15 minutes.” She then pointed to a hallway behind her, marked with a giant number ‘1’ on both the walls and even the flooring. “Just follow the hallway down here and get into the tram. Only that tram and just go to the gate they tell you after. Hold onto your ticket no matter what.” I nodded with the seriousness she intended in that last part. I for sure didn’t want a mix-up and end up in aplce like Honshu. Still, I smiled back. “Thank you.” I then resumed wheeling my bag and made sure I stuck to the single designated ‘1’ hallway. Minutes later, it ended, and I hopped onboard a tram service in the car marked with another giant red ‘1.’ The cars in front of us were then marked with a blue ‘2’ and green ‘3’ right after. “All aboard. Leaving for portal building in ten seconds…’ the electronic voice called out from the speakers above. I closed my eyes for a moment and only reopened them when I felt a lurch and could feel the warm sunlight from outside bathing the car. There wasn’t a town for miles around and even the main hub of the portal facility was separated from the actual portals themselves. One expert cited radiation, another explosion, but another more ludicrous theory was that the original portal almost blew a hole in the dimensional fabric of space time… or something like that. I was grading papers at the time and for most of us living on Earth still now, as long as the portal remained stable, the old reasons of why the separation mattered less and less with each passing year they remained safe. In the midst of my thoughts, the car lurched to a stop right at the height of the looped track and in front of the actual portal building. Inside seemed pretty plain, but once again, I just followed the large red ‘1’ on the floor and from the signs overhead. Those from cars ‘2’ and ‘3’ still had to wait for their portal to be recalibrated and relocated to another region of the other dimension. Finally, though, I showed my ticket once more to a tall, burly man waiting by a pair of revolving doors, and satisfied I was who I claimed to be, I moved past him and to the large room on the other side. Rumors had swirled for years about the specs and veneers of the portals changing, but they still looked like they did for the past almost 15 years now. Circular hubs vibrated and pulsed as the energy coils recharged while several bumbling scientists muddled and fussed with the bevy of controls and dials before them. Occasionally the lights would flicker, but since none of the scientists below seemed the least bit concerned, I felt pretty confident that nothing was amiss. Seeing a few others have their tickets be inspected and then directed elsewhere, I stepped up and made sure my ticket was already out of my suitcase. “Ticket, please,” one of the younger scientists, dressed in the stereotypical lab coat, asked me. “Richt… here you go.” I handed him the ticket once more with a smile. He just took it without any overt sign of emotion before handing me a single blue triangular pill. “Good. Just in time. Group 4, down in front by the portal,” he said, readjusting his glasses while gesturing over to the large crowd of people there now. “Take the pill before and just give the coils a time to recharge and you’ll be off in no time.” I nodded and followed over to the rear of the line before swallowing the pill whole. Just as I got in line, though, the coils began to vibrate even louder, and the scientists panicked briefly. I wondered if I should, but at the last second, one of the more elderly ones cranked a handle all the way to the left and the vibrations turned into a low pitch, like a low note had just been plucked on a base guitar. It pulsed for a moment, before the whole place shook once more and then stopped as liquid then seemed to fill in the previously empty circular device on the platform above the crowd of people that I was now a part of. As soon as the seemingly calmly bluish liquid touched though in the center, it let out a final twang, sucked in and out, and finally, was still. The resulting surface still shimmered with an unearthly blue and seemed about as reflective as glass and as full of life as a bubbling stream. “Beautiful, but ugh! Popped my ears I think…” I mused out loud while trying to blow my nose to fix the fullness I felt in both ears. “Yeah... these things have a tendency to do that,” the man in front of me said casually, turning around over his shoulder a little bit. “Punching a hole in the universe or something like that. Popular Mechanics ran an article a few months back… I think that’s what it said…” He seemed less sure at the end, so I wasn’t sure if I was getting the full picture of the article, but it still made sense. “Right… guess this stuff isn’t for amateurs anymore…” I said half-heartedly, recalling when the technology was released to the public and a few start-up companies tried to make their own. As people began to enter, I remembered the results were… unfavorable, or at least from what I’ve been told. Then, after the man in front of me went through the portal, I stepped up, my ticket was ripped in half and the scientist there gestured to the portal. “Whenever you’re ready…” I nodded and took a breath. ‘Just like an explorer in one of your books, Em… just go right on through… it’s a whole new world.’ I took another breath and as the final bit of air released from my lips, I stepped forward and bathed myself in the shimmering metallic blue in front of me. All at once, I felt my body being stretched, on fire, contorted, deep frozen, and smashed like a ripe tomato in the summer. It was awful and I wanted to puke. My legs dangled in the air, and I swore I could feel wind in my face as the ripples of thousands of explosions of color rocketed before my eyes. Just as I began to completely freak out though, my feet touched solid ground again. “There you go, missy,” a loud booming voice above me noted. “Easy does it.” I felt a hand guide me by the shoulders, and it honestly took me a minute to see that first, I was in a very different and almost elegant building compared to the near-warehouse one I had just come from, and second, the hand on my shoulders actually seemed to almost be able to reach both of them, being so large and all. I almost yelped out a bit of surprise when I looked up and there was a woman staring right back at me. “Hey there, let’s get you cleaned off, huh?” I panicked and almost wanted to run away right there, but the woman just guided me to what almost looked like one of those old phone booths my grandparents used to use. Instead of a phone inside though, as soon as the door was closed, the whole chamber filled with a whiteish, greenish smoke. I felt I had arrived at my ultimate doom, but not even three seconds later, all the smoke was sucked away and the woman guided me back out. “Perfect! All clean and sterilized. Now, just right down those steps and to your destination!” Her tone unnerved me, and it took me a second to pin down why. It wasn’t condescending... quite the opposite in fact, but with a mild amount of panic, I realized it was that same type of sing-song voice that was used in customer service… crossed near seamlessly with the tone one would use with small children. ‘Damn! I knew I should have worn my leather jacket over here instead of my light blue sweater!’ I was in this dimension for less than two minutes and I already felt marked. It didn’t seem to matter much though, as another Big then escorted me to a singular waiting room. “Please. Wait right here and have a cookie and some juice. You might have lost some sugar on the way over here with our new methods and from the pill you took.” I nodded listlessly, parked my suitcase in front of a chair, and grabbed myself an oatmeal cookie and what appeared an awful lot like grape juice, though it was called ‘uva’ juice. I almost even opted out of drinking it, fearful of all the nasty rumors I had heard about Bigs spiking drinks or whatnot, but feeling lightheaded, I figured it was better to drink it now rather than pass out later. Feeling rejuvenated after a moment, I saw there seemed to be an almost unending stream of travelers arriving after me, so, my juice empty and my cookie eaten, I stood up and pulled my suitcase along with me. One hallway, covered in pictures of happy tourists, later, and I was standing outside at what looked like a bus and taxi depot. “Ticket, ma’am?” a voice asked me. Now, I was prepared to be surrounded by the whole giant lot of them, but as an adult, once just gets used to the notion of most other adults being about your height. Standing a few inches under 6 feet tall, at worst, I just had to look up a little… no need to readjust where I was standing to not hurt my neck. The Big before me though was not anywhere in the ballpark of six feet tall. “Ticket, ma’am?” he asked again, his expression almost seemingly asking if I was okay as well. My eyes just stared up at this being, who despite looking like he had just graduated high school, seemed to be almost twice my height. “Uh… uh… here…” I shakily said, retrieving my ticket and then handing it over to him, still in awe of the differences in our sizes. Inside, I was half-dazed, but now here in the full light, my senses were feeling a little overwhelmed at the view before me. For a moment, he seemed to dislike my awe, or was just impatient, but once he looked at my ticket, his smile returned. “Oh, look at that. Local travel. Wonderful! I’m sure you’ll just love our city! Loculofus is the best kept secret in Virgan!” I could see right through his sales pitch, but in truth, I wasn’t really sure how long I was going to be staying in the capital of Virgan. Still, it was a nice greeting at the start of my trip here. “Uh, I hope so. Can I get a ride, or a…?” He wasted no time and held up his finger to stop me. “Wait one moment.” Then, with the speed and power of a train whistle, he parted his lips and blew into fingers, creating a high-pitched sound. A car quickly pulled up. “Here you go, ma’am. First ride is included with your transport. Be careful out there but enjoy the city!” I nodded and quickly loaded myself and my suitcase into the car, before he shut the door and waved goodbye to me. “Thank you!” I quickly shouted as the car began driving away. He smiled, nodded, and then just went to help the next in a string of us new portal Littles here. The driver had to navigate some pretty odd ways out of the portal facility, but as he began to make his exit, he finally piped up. “Where to, miss?” I was so distracted by all the differences from back home that I had completely neglected to tell him where to go. “Oh! Sorry about that… uh… just once sec…” I then pulled out a map I had purchased beforehand of the city on my phone. There was a whole slew of apps now dedicated to helping Little tourists like me, and this one had received the best reviews so far. “Uh… monument park, please?” He hesitated for a moment, but still nodded his head. After a few routes onto the main highway system, I saw my first glimpse of the steel and granite city, all refined in its splendor after the reconstruction from the last Height War, or at least that’s what my travel guide said. It filled me with excitement, but the driver then spoke up. “Uh, miss? I’ll take you to where you want to go… free charge and all, but are you sure about wanting to be dropped off at monument park?” “Yes…” I said confidently, but the way he was looking back at me and seemed nervous, caused a few cracks to form in that feeling. “Uh, just out of curiosity, why do you ask? Is there something problematic there now?” He quickly shook his head. “Oh, not at all. Just that… well, most Littles want to go to their hotel first. As I said, I’ll take you where you want, but I’m just putting it out there.” For the briefest of moments, I considered what he was telling me. I had two things I knew though that went against his advice. First, most Littles went to their hotel and ended up having a problem anyway… some hotels even being centers of regression programs apparently. Second though, I had looked up the distance on my phone before I left and saw that there were beautiful monuments in the park, and it was only about nine blocks to my hotel. To a daily walker like me, it didn’t seem so bad. I shook my head. “No. Thank you for your concern, but I want to see the park while I still have the chance. I don’t think the walk will be too bad anyways.” He nodded and continued driving. Not long after, we pulled up and I could see the petals blooming on all the trees lining the park and the avenue beyond it. I got out, breathed in the fresh air, and then leaned back over and thanked my driver. He nodded back and sighed. “Good luck.” With that, he drove off and I was all alone. Now, I had grown up in the rubble of what was once our country after all our own wars and crises. It had toughened me up a bit and being alone on the streets wasn’t exactly new to me, so I just rolled my suitcase along and began to take pictures of all the art decorations and sculptures dedicated to the past heroes of Virgan. Military seemed to be the most prominent, but as I continued, I saw a few scientists, creators, and lawmakers as well. Curiously, all were sculpted the exact same size, despite the obvious markers at the base of each denoting, Big, Middle, or Little. I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it, but a very long block later, I decided to stop for lunch. The line was a bit odd, to see from the outside with the varying heights and I will admit, it was the first time I was truly intimidated here, being sandwiched right in between two Bigs, both of whom looked at me with a look I didn’t quite recognize. A little more sleezy and I thought that they would have hit on me, but a little softer, and I would feel like they were my dad about to ask if I needed any help like it was my first day of school or something. I didn’t really like the look and just focused on my order and getting my food. “One hot skylos, please?” I asked the man at the counter. He almost seemed to grumble, but then turned around and caught sight of me. He paused for a moment and seemed almost perplexed for a moment as he stroked his stubbly double chin. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked gruffly but with a warmth I didn’t really expect. I shook my head. “Is it that obvious?” He laughed and some of the other Bigs did as well, but a few just looked impatient. “You could say that. See, what you just ordered is about a quarter of your entire body length.” He then looked at me up and down and smiled. “Seeing as you’re new and just out the portal, I’m gonna give you two pieces of advice. First, look up extensively what you’re going to buy before you do. Not everyone’s gonna be as nice as me.” A few of the previously impatient Bigs chuckled. The vendor briefly looked up in annoyance but then came back to me with a smile. “Second, just get off the street and get to where you’re going fast. This area ain’t the best for you types and all. Got it?” I swallowed at his last warning and quickly nodded. He smiled widely back and reached in and gave me a normal sized looking what I would call, hot dog. “Here. No charge. Just get to where you’re going pronto. Good luck.” I tried to pay him after, but he just insisted on the goodwill gesture. So, I soon found myself hurdling down the block about as fast as I could. I only got about two blocks before I just had to stop. I was feeling faint, and my stomach was nearly gnawing me in two. Not liking it, but feeling I had no choice and listening to my stomach over the vendor, I sat down. I tried to eat about as fast as I could of the hot skylos, but for some reason, it seemed to fill me up much faster than I was used to. Not intent on puking today, I slowed a bit and tried to plan out my trip. See, I had planned out most of this trip already, but I had given myself two options, of which, I would just cancel one when I figured out what I wanted to do. Going north, I could hit Libertalia’s capital city, New Columbia, and eventually make my way up to New Eboracum City. Both cities and all that lay between were practically the same as where I had just come from, but being in the north, it was usually safer for Littles. On the other hand, I could go south to Carolusa and eventually Flosus. I would hit a few cities but going south meant more of an emphasis on the natural wonders. Waterfalls 200 feet tall weren’t uncommon and the mountain views were voted as some of the best on the east coast. On the flipside though, being the south, Littles didn’t tend to do better down there. Still, as soon as I finished my last bite, I knew I had to table the decision until later. Unfortunately, I only got about a block further when I realized just how long the blocks were here. First, I was already battling the longer stretches of the two types of blocks, as every block east or west was about two going north or south. Additionally, because of the supersized everything here to accommodate the Bigs better, that amount could easily be doubled again. So, while I had read nine blocks to my hotel, I probably should have read it more like 36 blocks, and right now, I had only just about the halfway point. Tired, sore, and still running on fumes from the amount of energy the portal travel had taken out of me, I stopped and looked at my map once more to see if there were any shortcuts to the hotel. From what I could see, there weren’t any, but I finally saw a friendly-looking couple walking my way. Both being Bigs, I knew it was a risk going up to them, but I was desperate, so I decided to take my chances. “Excuse me?” I asked the pair once they got withing talking range. Both stopped and looked down at me with large smiles. “Yes? Can we help you, miss…?” the woman asked nicely. “Uh, Emily,” I replied back a little hesitant over giving my name out. Still though, I wanted their help, and I didn’t want to offend them by keeping that secret, or if they were the tricky types, I had heard that some Bigs viewed a Little not giving out their name as an admission they were too young to know it. “Good to meet you, Emily,” the man spoke up. “I’m Jim and this is my wife, Lilly. How can we help you? Are you lost?” I noticed he was eyeing the map on my phone. I blushed and nodded. “Geez. I guess I’m a little too obvious out here with my map and all.” “Just a little,” Lilly said, still smiling. “Might want to memorize the route and look at it sparingly.” I nodded. “Definitely, but I need to find my hotel… the Hotel Eirinison?” “Ooh. Fancy schmancy. It’s just up the street here,” Jim said, pointing in the exact direction I was headed. “Right, but…” I gestured to my suitcase still rolling behind me, “do you have any suggestions for getting there quicker? A shortcut maybe?” Both seemed nervous and looked at each other before nodding. Lilly turned to me. “We do and it’s a cut-through alley just ahead beyond the statue of the Little soldier up there.” I looked beyond and saw it. “It will lead you straight through to the other side...” “But we strongly suggest you stick to the park and street path you’re on now,” Jim emphasized while Lilly nodded her head in agreement. “It’s a little longer but it’s safer.” He paused and looked back to where they had just come from. “You can also cut over two blocks from here after the metal sculpture. It’s not much but it will save you a little time later.” “Well, thank you both.” I then stuffed my phone back in my pocket and we both said our goodbyes before departing back our separate ways. Strangely though, as they left, I also received my third ‘good luck’ today from them. Each of the three had been said in about the exact same tone after each had warned me about a potential danger. With each ‘good luck’ before, I had listened to and then ignored their advice and as I came to the Little soldier statue as Lilly had pointed out, I was at yet another decision. The Little soldier stood proud and tall, but I could also see the fear in his eyes as if he was looking at someone particularly frightening before him. I definitely wondered about that war, seeming to be the last in all the major conflicts here, but now, I felt I just had to summon the courage that soldier once possessed as well. It didn’t hurt my resolve either that ‘Hotel Eirinison’ was emblazoned on the building front I could see right at the end of the alleyway. So, sighing, I turned right instead of just continuing through the park. Oddly, the whole city seemed to have been rebuilt following one of the apparently more severe bombings here during the war. According to one source, the vileness of some of the Bigs toward Littles in the south stemmed from the Great Height war as many Littles captured or invaded cities to the point where mass bombings had to be conducted to win them back. Still, most news articles purported the south was fully swinging back and most cities only blazed with light and progress. This alleyway though, seemed to be immune from all that progress. An asphalt street snaked its way in between the facades of two brick buildings, both worn and even crumbling in a few spots. Downtown had now become a mix of both the new and the old, and from the looks of it, I was definitely in the old part. About a minute later and almost to the other side, I thought I heard a clinking behind me. I turned to look, but I didn’t see anyone, so I just kept walking. Another clinking. This time, I spun around faster. Still no one, but now, a single cardboard box wavered slightly on top of the trash from the backdoor of what I could only guess was a restaurant. Nervous, I turned back and saw the hotel sign, closer than ever. Right then, I heard another clinking sound. This time though, when I turned around, I came to face-to-face with a single Big. “W… who are you? Wh… wh… what do you want?” I could feel my pulse racing. He cocked his head to the side. “Lost are you, little one?” He smiled and I could see him flash a pair of yellow teeth, matching horribly well with his tattered clothing. I wanted to retreat, and I even backed up a little bit, but then, I heard another clinking sound behind me. This time, I only turned a little, to keep the other crooked teeth man in my view still, but to my horror, I saw the other end of the alley was now blocked as well. “Hello, sweetie…” the well-manicured man said confidently, walking a little closer to me. This one was dressed much nicer than the other one and the bearded mute man by his side. Whereas the other two’s shoes were patched or dirty, his shoes shined. “Please… just leave me alone…” I hated how I sounded so weak, and I really wished I had just listened to the other Bigs, but I knew it was too late. I thought about yelling out for someone to help, but the crooked teeth one came closer, and his coat opened a little to reveal a large terrifying knife hanging from his belt. It silenced any of those notions pretty quickly, especially considering the knife seemed like it could have easily split me in two. The three just sinisterly laughed, as each stalked ever closer to me. I could feel my stomach in my throat, and I tried to see a way out of this, but I was failing at every angle. There were more of them, and each was twice my height. Also, once again, they gave me the same look between creepy and caring. If I could have crawled out of my skin right then, I would have. “I think she wants to play, boss…” the crooked teeth man taunted, laughing dumbly at his own joke after. The mute man just smiled, and the rich man’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. Just who we were looking for.” Each got within striking distance and the rich man stared back into my eyes with both desire and satisfaction. I could only imagine in terror what he had planned for me. “Now, sweetie, you stay quiet, and my boys won’t have to get nasty. You got it? Nod if you do, darling.” Remembering the knife, I slowly nodded and allowed myself to be escorted by the three back down the alleyway and away from my hotel. The mute man took my suitcase as the crooked teeth man handed it off to him and the rich man pounded on one of the doors. I could hear music inside and I looked up to see where I was likely headed. To my horror, I saw a single clearly regressed Little pressed up against one of the panes of glass above me. They seemed so lifeless… almost dead even and I felt very different than them, but I knew with all the technology of the Bigs, both good and bad, the distance between me and that Little was uncomfortably close. So, seeing the three men momentarily be distracted by their own dealings, I knew it was a small opportunity, but I saw my opening. Despite the threat of the knife I had seen, fear of whatever happened to that Little happening to me was a bigger motivator. Then, in fear and taking a quick breath, I ran. I didn’t get far though when the crooked teeth man caught up with me. His hand grabbed onto my blue sweater, but I just yanked out of his flimsy grip as he almost started to brag back to the rich man. Unfortunately, the force catapulted me forward and smacked me into the side of dumpster. Still, undeterred, I got back up and ran once more. “You idiot!” the rich man admonished the crooked teeth man. “Don’t damage the merchandise. You know what a prime Little like that would go for!” Meanwhile, the mute man had just kept running and tried to catch up with me once more. I was doing pretty well, but his strides proved too much though and he lunged out to grab me. He succeeded but I guess he also liked to play with his prey. He then began to push me around a little. It wasn’t much, but a few gentle shoves here and there in the decrepit alleyway quickly tore holes and seams all over my clothing. For their part, the crooked teeth man and rich man only chuckled amusedly at my torment as they walked closer. Finally, the mute man stopped, but I then realized his widened stance and his beckoning face just wanted me to charge him. So, in hope I could bust my way out, I did, and he caught me by the scruff of my neck once more as I tried to wiggle loose when I failed to. My wiggling didn’t work but I also realized he had left himself vulnerable in trying to control me more. Seeing the opportunity, with myself half-cocked and one foot already in the air as I teetered over the pavement, I used my free leg and kicked him right in the crotch as hard as I could. He yelped in pain, let me go, and dropped to his knees in agony. Unfortunately, I guess it had just rained here and I dropped right into a puddle of water. Still, I could hear the angry shouts of the rich man echo off the alleyway walls. “Go! Go after her! Don’t lose her before she gets back to the street!” I then realized that the alleyway had been chosen on purpose by these Bigs. It represented a dark territory for authorities to patrol and while Littles weren’t treated well in the south here, there were still some rules. So, looking ahead and seeing the street only a quick run away, I knew if I could make it, I would at least be safe from them. So, I ran for it. I could hear the panicked thuds and splashes of the shoes running behind me, but I didn’t dare look back until I was safely out of the street once more and touching the Little soldier statue. I stared back defiantly at the three now defeated men before me. Each could have squashed me like a bug, and I felt triumphant as they soon left and vanished into one of the nearby buildings. Unfortunately, my feelings of triumph quickly ended. The mute man, before going back into his hiding place in one of the buildings, sneered at me as he retrieved my suitcase and took it with him. All my clothes, passport, and money were held within that bag. I had my phone still, but now, I was wet, bruised, and penniless in a land in an entirely different dimension other than my own. Still, I felt I had to press on and at least get into the Hotel Eirinison. Unfortunately, as I grimly suspected when I started walking over there, garnering numerous looks of shock and pit from nearly every passing Big on the way, they wouldn’t let me check-in unless I had my passport from the portal travel bureau. As it stood, that single laminated card was in my suitcase and had taken me a month to obtain it back home. Here in this dimension, I heard rumors about where some took three months to get a new one… if they even made it that long. So, on the verge of being destitute, I went back outside and sat on a park bench by a tall radiating fountain. The city shimmered all around me in glorious magnificence and technological might, but I was now trapped in the same scenario I had worked so hard to avoid in the first place. ‘Shit and double shit! What the heck do I do now?’ I cursed my independent attitude prevailing against the advice of the other Bigs. If I had only listened to even one of them now, I might have been safely tucked upstairs in my hotel room planning out the rest of my trip. Instead, I was now outside and in a world of hurt. And it only got worse as I looked around. To my left, I saw a police car and cops get out and detain a clearly homeless Little. They seemed so scared getting hauled into the back of the police cruiser, and I morbidly wondered what waited for them at the station and afterward. I felt a shiver of fear creep up my spine, and though I was nowhere near looking like that particular Little, my scuffle with the three hadn’t left me too much better off. Then to my right though, I saw what looked like a religious service talking to and helping out another homeless Little as they offered them blankets and hot soup. It was unusually cold for early May, even around here, but my partially soaked clothes clung to me tightly and the wind seemed to pass right through them. I would have availed myself of the free service right then, but as I looked at them closer, I recognized the logo on their front smocks as the Acolytes of Artemis. They were a charity organization dedicated to helping the poor and needy Littles of their world. It was a perfectly wonderful calling for many Bigs, but underneath it all, lay the foundations for the ruin of every Little who sought their services. Most, it seemed, were simply lost to the system, and were never seen again. I shook my head at the notion and just wrapped my arms around myself. It provided little, but some comfort. At the same time though, the reality and desperation of my situation began to settle in. I still had my phone, and I could go to the Earth embassy in the city for sanctuary, but the process was always complicated without a passport. It was possible, but it would take time and most Littles weren’t allowed in until they could at least be verified. As a result, many kidnappers were said to be lurking right outside the gates for desperate and unsuspecting Littles. Worse though, here, I knew the embassy was at least 15 blocks away from my hotel. Having just walked nine to get here and being totally exhausted now, I didn’t like my chances. It was all just too much to deal with. I was a strong independent woman. My time on the streets in a crumbling city before I was 13 had taught me a lot, but it was my hometown. I knew each alley to avoid and where the best free food was on garbage days. I had fought my way out of that mess, but now… I felt I had nothing. So, not seeing a way out, I just dropped my head in my hands and began to softly cry. Now, I know I shouldn’t have, but sometimes, emotions just bubble to the surface whether you like it or not. Crying though, and so obviously, I was making myself vulnerable to any passing Big. I was surprised it took longer than five minutes for one to finally stop and slowly sit next to me. “Tissue?” she finally asked with concern in her voice and holding a large single disposable sheet in front of me. I didn’t want to accept the offered item, but I knew my face was probably a mess and I hated to turn down such a generous offer, even if it was a stranger. “Thank you…” I said quietly, trying not to reveal my ruined face to the Big. From my quick glance at her though, I could see her blonde hair practically shining in the day’s sun, and I could see a little hopeful smile play across her lips as I took the tissue from her hand. I then blew my nose and dabbed off my cheeks. “There… much better, huh?” I nodded. “Thank you, uh… sorry, I didn’t get your name.” She smiled and outstretched her hand to mine. “Nancy. Nancy Donahue. Good to meet you…” “Emily. Emily Breckenridge,” I replied, with a smile on my face, shaking her offered hand. I had no doubt that my makeup was ruined, and I still had no plan, but right then, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Whomever this Big woman was, I felt that things were finally going to turn around for me.

Well, this is a different sort of story. I had the idea of combining a babyfur story...with the Golden Age of Piracy. Weird idea, but I've researched a bit, figured out how things worked, and it just...took hold. It's a lot less mature than most of my stories, actually (surprising for me), buuut I maaay include some things that are a lot more AB and regression themed than I normally do (which is normally a lot). Also, there will be a bit earthier stuff, like a brothel and tavern wenches (as was in the times. Don't worry, no sexual themes aside from...motherhood themes.), so consider that the warning. I'm also admittedly not sure where the story's middle and climax are, but I have an idea about the end;I just don't know where it'll go before then. Okay, here's the first chapter: Chapter One: Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls The ocean in 1595 was a treacherous place, especially when one didn’t know what they were doing, and even more so when it was an area rife with danger already; the broken ships, names long since lost to the pounding waves, howling winds, and sea spray proved that without a shadow of a doubt. Fortunately for Florence Goodluck, the feared - at least, she hoped she was - black-furred fox captain of the seven seas, she and her small crew knew exactly what they were doing...or so they hoped. She wore few fripperies; while she and her crew were regarded as pirates, welcomed at Tortuga by fellow pirates, they weren’t a very wealthy or successful crew, having gotten few prizes over the time they were active. She and her crew wore simple, short, homespun dresses, ragged and torn from years on the sea. “Tack to port!” she called out in a high soprano, as she took the lookout point, seeing her crew of big cats maneuver the Catastrophe (her idea to let the crew, having known her lifelong friends since they all lived on the docks of Dover, England as orphans, know how much she appreciated them, especially since they unanimously voted her captain.) with Emma Everard, the stoic snow leopardess helmscat at her customary spot at the wheel. Not that the fox minded the lookout and rigging jobs; she never ordered her crew to do anything that she wouldn’t do, and she knew that Emma was better at the wheel than she could ever be. “Move port, bring the riggings up!” Grace Wythinghall, the powerful pantheress roared out, as was her right as quartermistress, helping the crew move away from the bow of a half-sunken ship, the stench of rotting wood in the air as a cold, heavy mist began to roll in. Florence sniffed the air, with most everything, even the familiar sea spray scents, fading into the furling mists. She realized that it could be a quest that ended all of their lives. No pirate had ever gotten this treasure, mostly because of silly and stupid superstitions that the older folk believed in. But she truly believed that she and her crew would be the first, and it would propel them to fame, glory…and mostly peace. Maybe because we’re the most desperate, that we have absolutely nothing to lose, she thought to herself. They were all veterans of the seas for a decade, and yet none of them were over the age of twenty-three, having lived hard lives as pirates, spending almost all of that decade in the bosom of their small frigate, rocked to sleep by the waves, avoiding privateers (those damned hypocrites, no better than they were…only with a letter of marque by the kings and queens of countries allowing them to prey on those weaker than them), fellow pirates, and legitimate navy ships that could’ve sunk them and sent them straight to Davy Jones. All Florence wanted was to retire. She was tired of the sea, tired of the dangers, tired of starving, and she wanted to put down roots somewhere on an island where the most she’d see of the ocean was occasional fishing, with more money than she knew how to spend. “Florence, I can’t see anything in this mist!” Agnes Coulthurst cried out, the cougaress’s tail lashing in annoyance, bringing her back to the moment. “Hold steady!” the black fox called. “Are you absolutely sure, Flory?” Denise Parkham called out; the lynx boatswain's voice tinged with terror. This was not a natural mist; the conditions for mist weren’t there; hell, it was far too cold for the normal spring weather of the Caribbean, and frost began to creep on the sails. “Do NOT call me ‘Flory’!” Florence snapped. “Hold steady unless I say!” A cheetah was scratching her claws on the ship deck, whimpering, “We’re going to crash into one of those ships-” “AVIS, WE ARE NOT GOING TO CRASH! TRUST ME!” the black fox shouted. “That goes for everyone! We are going to make it through! Have I ever led you wrong before?! Hold - damn - steady!” “You heard the captain!” Grace roared; the fox had to admit that the vocal cords of the quartermistress was a much louder sound that almost seemed to cut through the mist. “Hold steady until she says!” All eleven animals held their breaths, as if the very act of breathing would cause the water to hear and consume them. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. Then Millicent Huchenson and Winifred Daundelyon, a serval and caracal as close as twin sisters (even though they weren’t actual sisters like the Rowes) heard a faint roar coming in front of them, their especially keen ears pounding with blood, and both of them screamed in terror, holding each other. Florence heard the faint roar as well, heard the sailmaker and cooper scream, and immediately bellowed, “DROP ANCHORS AND FURL SAILS RIGHT NOW!” Her crew reacted quickly, knowing that their lives depended on it. Whether Lady Luck existed or not, they knew one thing: they were lucky, for the roar was coming from a waterfall that plummeted down into nothingness - the anchors had managed to cling to rocks just in time to save them from going over. “This has to be the goddamned end of the world…” Isabel Hornboldt moaned pitifully, the jaguaress who served as the navigator unsheathing and sheathing her claws. “There’s nothing on my maps that says anything about a goddamned waterfall!” “That means we’re close to The Dying Night!” Florence shouted, her eyes alight with recognition. “Don’t you girls remember what the legend said?” “Other than some voodoo witch that cursed the pirates who killed her husband?” Sybil Rowe asked curiously, the tigress carpenter looking straight at her lioness sister, Cecily's eyes. “And they were never heard from again? And that everyone who tried to find this treasure died?” the gunner finished in a dour tone. “Cecily, Sybil, curses aren’t real!” the fox captain snorted to herself. Curses? Ridiculous. And they were a much better crew than those that had died; hadn’t they proved it by surviving until now? “Anyway, it’s at the bottom of the waterfall.” “Well, unless you plan on jumping off, I’d love to hear ideas, Flory!” Agnes snapped. “Always grumbling, Agy, always grumbling about something!” Florence retorted, inwardly seething about the childish nickname uttered by the cook. “Don’t you know that there are tributaries that lead downward? Or did you forget about the legend entirely?” The cougaress’s face flushed in annoyance, but Avis Ballett was quick to say, “But we can’t see anything in the mist!” Florence sighed, quickly wrapping a rope around her paw and stepping off of her perch, down to her crew from the crow’s nest, using her weight to counterbalance and land safely on her paws. Her crew had seen her do it so many times that they were no longer afraid for her safety…but they didn’t dare try it themselves. They would follow her anywhere…except with that; some things were just a death wish. “That’s why the legend is called ‘The Dying Night,’” the fox explained, mostly to the cheetah musician, but to the rest of the crew as well. “We wait until dawn; that’s night’s death, that’s when the mist will clear up and reveal the tributaries. Then we go down to them, find the ship, get the loot, divide it, and get out as rich women.” “You’re placing an awfully big bet on a mere legend, Flory,” Denise mused, her paw drumming on the side rail. “Enough with that stupid nickname! We know it’s real, Denise, there’s enough evidence to prove it, especially since it's here in front of our eyes.” Florence’s green eyes were desperate. “You’re my crew; I’d go down with and for you any day, and you know that, but we can’t be pirates forever. This could be the one. This could be the treasure that we could retire with and live like queens.” “I’d settle for a family.” All heads turned to face Isabel, who looked sad. “We’re family, Izzy,” Grace gently coaxed. “No, I meant…we stole this ship from the privateers together, and we're as close as we can get without being blood…but I want something…tangible,” the jaguaress said with a sigh. “No insult meant to you girls, but we see each other every day, every time I wake up on this ship. I’ve heard every argument we could ever hear. I want a different voice.” “Get enough money, and you could buy a family,” Florence said with a smirk. “Florence, not everything’s about scoring that big loot.” To the black fox’s shock, it was Emma that said those words, the normally quiet snow leopardess having a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d love a family myself. We all grew up as orphans; I wanted to know my mom for years. She died, you know. Died in childbirth. Dear ‘Dad’ left me on the docks. We all have similar stories, Florence, even you. Haven't you ever wanted someone to hold you, to love you, no matter what?” Florence sighed angrily. “Look, you want a mommy to feed you, pay a damn wetnurse. Those times are done, and you can’t ever go back. What’s done is done. We’re here right now, so let’s focus on our goal right now." She took a deep breath and rubbed the fur on her temple - a tic that she had when she was trying to calm herself down. "Anyway, we’re all tired, so get some sleep until dawn. Millicent, Winifred, take the first watch.” The fox’s crew looked at her…and let out collective sighs, knowing they weren’t going to change her mind; she could be quite stubborn. It was the trait that brought them this far, and the trait they loved and hated. But she was right, in a way: she had never steered them wrong, had always kept them safe. “Yes, Cap’n,” they chorused. They gathered their ragged blankets, shivering as, one by one, they fell asleep in the cold mist, their dreams right in front of them…one way or another. - Okay, quick explanation about the specific jobs of this crew on their frigate (a smaller ship used in the Golden Age of Piracy): Captain - Democratically elected on pirate ships, believe it or not, although they could just as easily have command stripped of them. In most cases, the captain was the brains, the one who got the ship through fair or foul means. The most successful captains could install rules on the ship. Quartermaster (quartermistress, in this case) - Also democratically elected, the quartermasters were the seconds-in-command of the ship, unlike various the various legitimate vessels (even though the pirates had first and second mates). They were the crew's answer to the pirate captain, sharing their concerns, and being an intermediatory for the captain to give orders to the crew. If the captain had taken another vessel and wanted to start a fleet, the quartermaster would be the captain of that ship. Navigator - Even though the captain and quartermaster often had knowledge of navigation, a pirate ship might have a dedicated navigator. With a good navigator, the captain would know where merchant ships struck, could navigate islands and shallows, that sort of stuff. Boatswain (bosun) - The supervisor of the various seamanship stuff around the ship, monitored the stores, and ensured sails, anchors, and rigging were in good condition. On larger ships, they'd have people under them. Carpenter - The carpenter was the one who was responsible for fixing leaks around the ship, making various repairs, and refitting captured vessels for the purposes of the pirates. They were also responsible for a lot of the, ah...immediate surgeries (i.e., amputations) in the absence of a surgeon. Cooper - The cooper was responsible for assembling barrels, used to keep wet stores, dry stores, gunpowder, water, rum, etc. from spoiling, making them airtight, fixing buckets, etc. Normally on larger ships, but I figured I could make a slight exception. Sailmaker - Sailmakers were basically the chief engineer on a ship, used to stitch and make sails, which, without them, ships went nowhere. In the absence of a surgeon, sailmakers were also responsible for stitching wounds shut. Gunner - The gunner was responsible for the cannons, how much gunpowder was necessary for to hit the target, who shouted the order to fire. Gunner teams (four to six men) were required to be accurate and speedy, and they were outfitted with a lot of guns. Cook - Yes, even pirate ships had cooks. Normally, they were ones with amputations (not here), but while they stole food stores from the ships they captured, and ate from taverns, yes, cooks were needed to prepare food and rum. Musician - Yes, pirates had musicians like fiddlers and trumpeters. Like in others, they created rhythms for shanties, to aid in manual task, and to entertain, but they also contributed to a cacophony of noise during attacks.

Hello I'm Jerry and I've had an on and off interest in diapers for most of my life, but recently it's been on all the time so I decided to join to possibly talk and read more about it

So… got in a car wreck last Monday… that was fun, not my fault and everyone is fine, just a bummer that my car is totaled and I’m stiff. Spent the week on bed rest and had a lot of time to write between dealing with insurance, the lawyers, and doctors and got a touch carried away… accidentally wrote like 12k words for chapter 23. Then I thought I should break it up a little and wrote some more to make the first part of the chapter more so Elizabeth’s backstory, which backstory is my favorite thing, will hopefully explain her habits and why she descended so quickly. Trying to work on character development and character interaction for another story I want to write in the DD when I stumbled upon an old prompt that went unnoticed/untouched and got a lot of things firing in my head. Been reading a lot of @bbykimmy stories lately which I somehow missed in all of my years as a forum ghost and love how dark some of them get, I have some dark stories I wrote for a different site that isn’t abdl but I have a hard time staying dark with my characters(also makes me feel less bad about some of my smutty tendencies because some of her work is just🥵). Also just discovered the keeper/pet universe she created and that has me in all sorts of moods, didn’t think I was much for pet play but now I’m a little more than curious. Anyways really makes me want to get better at writing and flush out my character interactions. I’m going to proof the new chapter 23 here in a minute then get to work on 24/maybe 25 for Elizabeth too? Not sure if I’ll break up 24 a bit and make it two chapters, we’ll see how much more I end up adding as I proof, may warrant two chapters after all. Stay tuned for the next episode of drag… Little Misunderstanding.

I really wish I was there to change your dirty diapers my little Ashy! And I think likewise you would do the same for me.😃😁😊🤭🧸

comments break immersion but you didn't post because no comments? okay

I would definitely change you again and put a fresh nappy on you

@Little Cub Pants Happy Birthday!! Hope you have a GREAT one Brian

Thanks for the like. Like Vickie in Homage, Suzie is more complex than she seemed when first you met her. Bernice is also worth keeping an eye on. Her relationship with Ian will prove special for them both.

Happy Birfday.

In fierce competition with: Poop the Pampers ! They'll takes loads of any size 🙈

Have to agree with Little Lamb. The continuity problems make the story feel staged. And if AI reduced weeks to hours, should the story be credited to AI? By the way, it would help at the opening to spend more than one sentence on the goings on at the bar. I drink either Patron Silver or a reposado when doing shots, and I flat out guarantee you that I don't hit the floor after three. Are they drinking rotgut? Are they so poor that they can't afford the good stuff. In short, it would really help if you took the time to introduce your characters before diving into the diaper bondage stuff.

Chapter 50: The winter's chill had begun to yield to the tender embrace of spring, and the local park bloomed with the first signs of renewal. Mommy, her steps light and purposeful, pushed the pram through the winding paths, the gentle sun casting a warm glow on the surroundings. My view of the outside world was restricted, shielded by the protective canopy overhead. Nestled snugly within the pram, I felt a sense of warmth and security, the soft embrace of blankets cocooning me against the outside chill. The transition from winter to spring painted the park with a subtle transformation, the air carrying a promise of blooming life and renewed vibrancy. I was snugly dressed in a onesie adorned with pastel-colored bunnies and delicate floral patterns, a visual ode to the awakening landscape. The fabric, soft against my skin, enveloped me in a cocoon of comfort. A matching bib, featuring a playful array of ducks and baby animals, hung from my neck, ready to catch any stray droplets of saliva. A sun hat, adorned with a wide brim and a whimsical pattern of sunflowers, shielded my face from the burgeoning warmth. My tiny feet, encased in booties featuring miniature ducks waddling across a pond, peeked out from the footed onesie, ready to explore the world in their limited, yet endearing, way. The pram, with its rhythmic creaks and the occasional coo escaping my pacifier-clad mouth, became a vessel for this afternoon adventure. The pram's canopy, though shielding me from the direct gaze of the world, allowed slivers of sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow over my infantile ensemble. The park, once draped in the muted hues of winter, now began to showcase the tentative blooms of spring. A subtle breeze carried the fragrance of blossoms, intertwining with the soothing hum of the pram's wheels in motion. Mommy, attuned to the ebb and flow of my infantile needs, periodically glanced down at me with a tender smile. "Enjoying the stroll, sweetheart?" she inquired, her voice a comforting melody that resonated with the tranquility of the park. I responded with a contented coo, the rhythmic rocking of the pram lulling me closer to the edge of slumber. The pram continued its rhythmic journey through the park, the soothing cadence of the wheels against the pavement creating a tranquil backdrop to the burgeoning spring afternoon. Wrapped in the comforting cocoon of my onesie and nestled within the pram's embrace, I was on the cusp of drifting into a peaceful slumber. As Mommy continued to guide the pram through the park, the gentle afternoon sunlight filtering through the canopy, a young woman approached with an air of familiarity. Mommy, her attention divided between the rhythmic stroll and the blossoming surroundings, noticed the approaching figure but remained unaware of the imminent revelation. "Excuse me," the young woman greeted with a friendly smile, "Susan, right? Susan Anderson?" Mommy, taken slightly aback, returned the smile, recognizing the face but grappling to place it within the context of her current role. "Yes, that's me. Do I...?" The young woman's eyes sparkled with recognition. "It's me, Emma! Emma Robertson. I used to work together with your son Patrick, as Mommy Mag. How have you been?" Understanding dawned on Mommy's face as she recalled the woman’s face. "Emma! Of course! It's been ages. How have you been?" As they engaged in a brief exchange of pleasantries, Mommy, with her attention momentarily diverted, failed to notice the inquisitive glances cast towards the pram. Emma, unaware of my presence within its cozy confines, continued the conversation with an eager enthusiasm. The pram, with its protective canopy, concealed my presence, and Mommy, still engrossed in conversation, hadn't yet mentioned my peculiar situation. "I've been well, Susan. Life has taken me on some interesting turns. You know how it is. But I just saw you and wanted to say hi, I haven’t seen Patrick for ages. Last we heard he was working on some big story. How is he doing?” Before Mommy could respond, the conversation took a serendipitous turn. "Oh my! Susan," Emma remarked with a playful grin, "I didn't know you had a little one. Mind if I take a peek?" Mommy, her eyes widening in realization, stammered slightly. "Oh, well, you see, it's a bit—" Before Mommy could finish her sentence, Emma playfully lifted the edge of the pram canopy. The moment of revelation hung in the air, the prospect of recognizing a familiar face from the past merging with the unexpected sight that awaited beneath the sheltering cover. The canopy lifted, revealing the interior of the pram, and a moment of frozen surprise passed over Emma's face. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of me, dressed in my onesie, a pacifier clipped to my outfit, and a bib adorned with cheerful animals. "Patrick?" Emma exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Is this... Is this Patrick from the office?" Mommy, with a gentle sigh, nodded. "Yes, Emma. This is Patrick. He's, well, going through a unique phase right now." Emma's gaze shifted from Mommy to me, her initial surprise giving way to a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "But... why? I mean, what's going on?" I squirmed slightly in the pram, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The unexpected encounter with a former colleague, someone from a different chapter of my life, intensified the awkwardness of my infantile state. Mommy, ever the supportive caregiver, stepped in to offer an explanation. Mommy, sensing the need for context in Emma's bewildered expression, gently began to explain the peculiar journey that had led to my current state of regression. "It all started as a writing experiment," Mommy shared, her voice carrying the weight of the evolving narrative. "Patrick wanted to explore the experience of potty training for an article. The initial idea was to immerse himself in the world of diapers and potty training, but as time went on, something unexpected happened." I shifted uncomfortably in the pram, acutely aware of the eyes on me, and Mommy continued with a supportive smile. Mommy continued. “It was a gradual journey, one that both of us embarked on together. Patrick found a form of solace in this regression, and I've been here to support him through it." Emma's expression shifted from surprise to a thoughtful stare. As Mommy and Emma continued their conversation, the pram's wheels creaked along the park's winding paths. The air was filled with the fragrant promise of blooming flowers, providing a soothing ambiance to the unfolding dialogue. "I don’t know what to say." Emma began with a curious smile, "I just don’t understand, how he ended up in a pram, like some newborn baby." Mommy's eyes softened with a mix of affection and responsibility. "When he started this un-potty training experiment, we didn't anticipate the depth it would take. But we found ourselves drawn into this journey and I wanted to provide the support he needed." Emma, finding a nearby bench, gestured toward it. "Shall we sit for a moment?" Mommy nodded, carefully steering the pram toward the bench. As they settled into a comfortable spot beneath the budding branches, the pram served as a visual reminder of the unique circumstances that brought them together. Emma's eyes flitted towards me, still nestled within the pram. "It's fascinating, and unexpected, to see someone you've known in a completely different light." Nestled within the pram, I remained a passive observer to the unfolding conversation between Mommy and Emma. The rhythmic creaking of the rocking pram provided a gentle soundtrack to the dialogue, as the park's ambiance enveloped us in a tranquil bubble. Mommy and Emma continued their exchange, the bench beneath the budding branches offering a serene backdrop to their discussion. I sucked on my pacifier absentmindedly, my eyes flitting between the swaying leaves and the conversing pair. The details of their shared history and the intricacies of my unique journey became the threads that wove the tapestry of the conversation. As Mommy and Emma delved into the complexities of acceptance and unexpected twists in life, I found myself in a contemplative haze. The plush toys attached to the pram's interior jingled softly as I shifted, my onesie-clad form a silent participant in the unfolding scene. Mommy occasionally glanced down at me with a reassuring smile, acknowledging my presence. My cheeks burned with a rosy hue as I sucked on my pacifier, trying to divert my attention to the soft jingles of the plush toys within the pram. Emma, a former colleague and someone I once harbored a significant crush on, now sat mere feet away. The realization that she was witnessing me in this deeply regressed state intensified the embarrassment. The pram's canopy offered a flimsy shield, but I couldn't escape the awareness that I was on display, an unexpected spectacle of regression before someone who knew a very different version of me. My gaze darted between Mommy and Emma, catching snippets of their conversation. The park, with its budding blossoms and the distant sounds of laughter, seemed to be closing in on me. Each passing moment fueled the embarrassment, amplifying the contrast between the persona Emma once knew and the vulnerable figure confined within the pram. "You see, Emma," Mommy began, her voice gentle and understanding, "Patrick initially started this as a writing experiment. He wanted to explore the experience of potty training for an article. It began with using diapers again, but over time, something unexpected happened." I squirmed slightly within the pram, my eyes downcast, feeling the weight of Mommy's words as she continued. "He began bedwetting, having accidents during the day," Mommy explained, her words weaving a narrative that exposed the layers of my regression. "At first, he could tell when he was using the diaper almost like a toddler, but gradually, that awareness slipped away. Now, he's become dependent on diapers unable to tell when he needs a change” The air hung heavy with the revelation, and I could sense Emma absorbing the details of my regression. Mommy's words painted a picture of a gradual descent into a state of dependency—one that started with a simple experiment but evolved into a complex journey. The park, with its blossoming surroundings, became the backdrop to a candid conversation that laid bare the intricacies of regression. Mommy, her voice a blend of understanding and care, continued to share the intricate details of my regression with Emma. "After Patrick started using diapers again, we found that other elements of infancy seemed to bring him a sense of comfort," Mommy explained. "It started with onesies—a practical choice for ease of diaper changes. Then, bibs became a necessity during meals, pacifiers became a constant source of soothing, and eventually, we introduced cribs and changing tables back into our daily routine." Emma listened attentively, her gaze shifting between Mommy and me as the layers of my regression were revealed. As Mommy spoke, I couldn't help but feel a mix of vulnerability and acceptance. The plush toys dangling within the pram seemed to nod along with Mommy's words, as if validating the choices made to create an environment conducive to my regression. "It makes things easier for both of us," Mommy admitted, a hint of reassurance in her tone. "Taking care of Patrick in this state is a unique challenge, but these elements, as unconventional as they may seem, have made the journey smoother. The crib provides a safe place for him to rest, the changing table facilitates diaper changes, and the pram has become a comforting cocoon for our strolls." Emma's eyes conveyed a mixture of amazement and curiosity as Mommy continued to unfold the details of my journey. The contrast between the person she once knew—the writer in suits and ties—and the current version, clad in onesies and diapers, seemed to leave an indelible impression. "From suits and ties to onesies and diapers," Emma remarked with a soft chuckle, a twinge of disbelief in her tone. "It's quite the transformation, Patrick. I never expected to see you in this...state." Mommy nodded with a knowing smile, acknowledging the stark difference in my outward appearance and the expectations associated with a traditional career in writing. Emma's gaze shifted to me, still nestled within the pram, pacifier in my mouth and bib adorned with cheerful animals. The image of me, once a talented writer, now seemingly regressed to a newborn-like state, hung in the air. "And here I thought you'd be writing award-winning articles, Patrick," Emma teased, her tone light but tinged with genuine surprise. "I never imagined I'd find you sucking a dummy and drooling onto your bib." I squirmed in the pram, feeling a surge of embarrassment at the stark contrast between my past achievements and my current infantile state. As Mommy and Emma conversed on the park bench, enjoying the springtime surroundings, Emma's keen senses picked up an unexpected element in the air. She wrinkled her nose slightly, catching a whiff of an unpleasant odor that seemed to linger. "Do you smell that?" Emma asked, her expression shifting to one of mild concern. Mommy, attuned to the nuances of my regression journey, nodded with understanding. "Ah, yes. It's likely coming from Patrick. He may be in need of a diaper change." I squirmed within the pram, my face flushing with embarrassment as the reality of the situation became apparent. The pacifier still nestled in my mouth, I became acutely aware of the need for a fresh diaper, the lingering stench betraying the state of my current one. Emma's eyes widened in shock as the realization set in. The contrast between the adult she once knew, who wore suits and ties and crafted eloquent articles, and the carefree, diaper-clad figure now lying in the pram, was stark and disconcerting. "So, he just...messes his diaper like that?" Emma asked, a note of surprise evident in her voice. Emma's gaze lingered on the pram, her expression a mix of fascination and incredulity. "It's just... I can't imagine." Mommy chuckled softly, understanding the unique nature of the situation. "It's certainly not what one would expect, especially considering Patrick's background. "Is he... is he just lying there, not bothered by the mess?" Emma asked, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and curiosity. Mommy nodded with a knowing smile. "Yes, Emma. It's become a part of his routine diaper changes, messy or not, don't seem to faze him.” Emma's eyes widened in disbelief, her initial shock giving way to a thoughtful contemplation of the scene before her. "It's... quite a departure from the Patrick I used to know," Emma remarked, her gaze shifting between Mommy and me. "I never imagined him being so... carefree about such things." Mommy chuckled softly, a hint of maternal affection in her eyes. "I think it's time for a diaper change," Mommy remarked with a smile, the plush toys in the pram serving as silent witnesses to the practicalities that came with caring for an adult baby. Emma, understanding the situation, nodded. "Of course. You better take Patrick home for that.” With a gentle sway, Mommy turned to Emma. "Nice meeting you Emma, it was lovely.” Emma returned the smile. "No problem at all. It's been quite an unexpected reunion." Emma then turned her attention to me, still nestled in the pram. "Patrick, it was unexpected seeing you like this. If you ever feel up to it, perhaps you and your….Mommy could drop by the Mommy Magazine office someday. Just to say hello." "Actually, Emma," Mommy began with a thoughtful smile, "I've actually been keeping in touch with the editor of Mommy Magazine since Patrick started using diapers again. I was actually thinking of taking him by the office someday to show off what a happy baby boy he is." Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "You have? That's wonderful! I had no idea." Mommy nodded, her expression a mix of reassurance and warmth. Emma, seemingly delighted by the unexpected news, offered a supportive smile. "That sounds like a fantastic idea. It would be great to have you both visit the office. I'm sure the team would love to see Patrick and catch up." As Mommy shared the news with Emma about staying in touch with the editor of Mommy Magazine and planning a visit to the office, a wave of emotions surged within me. The revelation struck like an unexpected gust of wind, leaving me unsettled and unprepared for the reality that unfolded. Though unable to articulate my complex feelings, the pacifier in my mouth did little to suppress the turmoil within. Shock, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal washed over me, accentuated by my inability to vocalize or control the torrent of emotions. My eyes, wide with disbelief, darted between Mommy and Emma. The plush toys within the pram, once comforting companions, now seemed to hang in suspended animation, as if sensing the storm within me. The realization that Mommy had been orchestrating plans behind my back, keeping in touch with Mommy Magazine without my knowledge, left me feeling betrayed and disoriented. Unable to hold back the overwhelming surge of emotions, I let out a whimper, a sound that betrayed my distress. Emma, noticing the shift in the atmosphere, exchanged a concerned glance with Mommy. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. Mommy, sensing my upset state, decided to address the situation with a gentle redirection. She offered a warm smile to Emma, attempting to downplay the emotional turmoil within the pram. "Oh, it seems like Patrick might be feeling a bit tired," Mommy explained, her voice infused with a soothing tone. "I think it's time for his nap. You know how it is with little ones—they can get a bit cranky when they're sleepy." Emma, charmed by the shift in focus, leaned closer to the pram and cooed in a baby-talk manner, "Aww, is little Patrick feeling sleepy? Time for a nice, cozy nap, isn't it?" I squirmed in the pram, my pacifier seemingly offering no defense against the unexpected turn of events. Mommy, ever the caregiver, continued the narrative, "Yes, he's quite the handful when he's sleepy. We'll let him rest, and maybe he'll be in a better mood later." Emma, finding the situation adorable, chuckled softly. "Well, you take a nice nap, little Patrick. Sweet dreams!" As they exchanged farewells, I felt a mixture of relief and frustration. The pram, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cocoon shielding me from the complexities of adult emotions. Mommy, maintaining the facade of a tired, cranky infant, guided the pram away from Emma, and the plush toys overhead seemed to sway with the rhythm of the parting encounter. Later in the evening, the kitchen nursery was bathed in a soft glow as Mommy got me settled into the highchair and prepared to feed me once again. As Mommy secured the bib around my neck, my eyes fixed on her with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. Mommy, ever attentive, smiled down at me. "Are you ready for your meal, sweetie?" I responded with a subtle nod, the pacifier nestled in the corner of my mouth. "Why Mommy talk to Mommy Magazine people?" I asked, my words slightly muffled by the pacifier. As Mommy began spoon-feeding me, the rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the bowl filled the nursery. Mommy, sensing the need for further explanation, adjusted her tone to a soothing babytalk as she continued to feed me in the highchair. "Aww, little one, Mommy wanted to keep in touch with the nice people at Mommy Magazine because, you see, when you became a wittle baby again, you couldn't tell them about your potty training adventure by yourself. Mommy thought it would be fun to share your special journey with them, so they could follow along and know how much of a good boy you were being." "Why Mommy not tell me?" I questioned, my words carrying the innocence of a child grappling with a new concept. Mommy continued the babytalk, her words laced with love and understanding as she spoon-fed me in the highchair. "Oh, sweetie, Mommy didn't tell you 'bout it 'cause it's not somethin' for my wittle boy to worry 'bout. Mommy wanted to take care of it so you could just be happy and enjoy your days bein' a cute little baby. No need for my special one to have any worries." She continued to coo and comfort me, the gentle rhythm of her babytalk creating a soothing atmosphere in the kitchen. "You see, my adorable baby," Mommy continued, "Mommy just wanted to make everything nice and easy for you. No grown-up worries for my little sweetheart. Mommy's here to take care of everything, so you can just giggle and play and have the best time in your little world." Despite Mommy's tender babytalk and reassurances, a lingering sense of upset nestled within me. The realization that Mommy had kept the secret of staying in touch with Mommy Magazine weighed on my thoughts, creating a subtle tension within me. "But Mommy didn't tell..." I began to murmur, my infantile speech struggling to articulate the complexity of my emotions. Mommy, sensing my unease, leaned in closer, maintaining the babytalk. "Shh, my little one. Mommy didn't want to worry you. It's just a grown-up thing. You're my precious baby, and Mommy's here to make everything nice and easy for you." Her soothing words had a lulling effect, and a sense of vulnerability washed over me. "But... but Mommy," I tried to protest, the words faltering as the rhythmic melody of babytalk wrapped around me like a security blanket. Mommy continued to spoon-feed me, her voice a gentle hum in the background. "No frowns, my sweetie. Mommy's here. Just enjoy your wittle meal, no need for big boy worries." As the babytalk persisted, my initial discontent gradually softened into a muddled sense of acceptance. In the haze of babytalk, my thoughts, once focused on questioning, slipped away like sand through my fingers. As the last spoonful found its way into my mouth, Mommy set the bowl aside and reached for a soft cloth to clean my hands and face. Her touch was tender, the babytalk still a soothing melody in the air. "There we go, my precious one," Mommy cooed in her sweet babytalk. "All clean and ready for sleepy time. See, no need for worries. Mommy's got everything under control." Mommy's reassurances, delivered in the gentle lilt of babytalk, worked their magic. "You're such a good baby, Patrick. Mommy loves taking care of you. No frowns, okay? We're going to have the best time together." With Mommy's reassurances, my concerns seemed to melt away, leaving behind a sense of tranquility. As we prepared for the next phase of our evening.

I remember someone was selling modified baby diapers that could fit an adult, like they put the backing of a Pampers or Luvs ETC put onto an adult diaper, forget what they were called though. But I don't think companies like P&G or Kim Clarke would want they're baby diaper brands associated with fetish/kink.

As promised. There is a lot going on in this chapter. I'm curious what everyone wants to think. Also, do you like the dotted lines? I am trying something new to see if it helps. Enjoy, my friends. Chapter 26 - The Kiddy Table Avery wasn’t sure where Darlene was taking him. His feet shuffled behind Darlene's determined stride, his mind racing with curiosity and anticipation. The only thing he knew about this place was that it was a restaurant with a name he couldn't quite grasp. "Aegean Palette?" he silently attempted to pronounce, stumbling over the unfamiliar combination of letters. Who would name a restaurant something so complicated? As they passed out from the alleyway of the tall building, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of tall evergreen trees lining a narrow lane, creating a barrier between them and their destination. As they continued down the path, Avery couldn't help but wonder if this obscure location meant the restaurant wasn't doing well. But as they emerged from behind the final cluster of trees, the scent of fresh herbs and spices filled his nose, instantly washing away any doubts or reservations. "Can you smell it, Avery?" Darlene's voice rang out joyfully as she gestured toward the quaint building before them, hidden behind tall skyscrapers and trees. "That's the best Greek and Italian cuisine you'll ever find." Avery inhaled deeply, savoring the tantalizing aroma that seemed out of place in the bustling downtown city. The restaurant itself looked as though it had been plucked from the idyllic Greek countryside and placed next to a peaceful river hidden from view. With its brick walls and vibrant geranium posts adorning the entrance, it was a stark contrast to the surrounding urban landscape. Despite his initial skepticism about its location, Avery couldn't deny that there was something alluring and charming about this hidden gem of a restaurant. And as he followed Darlene inside, he knew that this would be an experience unlike any other. “Let's go in and make sure he has our seats. The restaurant was only expecting four, but I added Christy at the last second. Normally, a restaurant like this won’t do favors for customers if they don’t make reservations in advance, but let's say my sisters and I are regulars. We're almost like family here.” As Avery followed Darlene inside the restaurant, he first noticed the smells and how a tall, gangly, and well-dressed man with an infectious smile was standing next to a hostess stand's wooden podium. “Welcome, Ms. Malatesta. I don’t think we have seen you here on a Monday. What happened to your regular Wednesday meet-up with your sisters.” He stared at Avery, realizing this was the fourth person she had called for reservations. “Let’s just say I had a real shitty day at work, and I need to unwind with my sisters,” Darlene replied. To Dimitris, Avery looked very nervous, and Avery didn’t realize he was up close to Darlene like an anxious child. Dimitris looked over at Avery in his messy hair and untucked shirt. From the looks, he wasn’t their normal clientele. “And who is the young man that is accompanying you this fine evening?” Dimitris smiled at him and gave him a warm half-bow as if inviting him in. Avery felt like he was talking to him as a child, but in fact, he wasn’t used to this type of atmosphere in a restaurant. “Oh, this is Avery, a coworker of mine.” Darlene paused as she thought about how to best explain this without seeming odd. “He is joining us today because we both had a bad day at work, and I thought he needed to unwind a little. When I learned he never heard of this restaurant. I told him about it and how I come here once a week to unwind and sometimes on the weekend for special occasions. I thought maybe I could get you another customer addicted to this place, just as my sisters and I are.” “That is really nice of you, Ms. Malatesta.” Dimitris turned to face Avery, who felt incredibly out of place in such a fancy establishment. “Nice to meet you, Avery. Do you have a last name?” He looked confused about why he would ask such a question. Darlene looked down at Avery and nudged him in the side. “It is ok; calling people by their last name here is customary. I have tried for years to get him to call me Darlene, but he refuses.” Dimitris had a comical and infectious smile when she said this. “Well, Ms. Malatesta, you know that isn’t proper, and I am all about proper.” Even though he didn’t laugh, you can tell from his eyes that he was laughing. “Sage, Avery Sage is my full name,” Avery said as his eyes kept darting around, feeling out of place. Before this, the most upscale dining experience he had ever had was at Olive Garden, and that was only a handful of times when his foster families treated him on special occasions that were in celebration of someone else and not for him. “Welcome, Mr. Sage. It is my pleasure and the pleasure of Aegean Palettee to have you dine with us tonight. I hope you have a divine experience. Anything less would be an insult to us.” Dimitris did a half-bow once again. Darlene's voice trembled a little as she spoke, "I know this isn't ideal, and I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have a fifth guest I invited. With everything that has happened, I really needed her to come with us." She couldn't help but feel guilty for bringing an unexpected guest and knew this wasn’t proper, but at the same time, she felt like she had no other choice. "Can you please find a way to accommodate us? I would be so appreciative," she pleaded, hoping Dimitris would understand her predicament. Dimitris's eyes widened in concern as he scanned the reservation log, seeing that the restaurant was on track to be completely packed that night. He groaned inwardly, knowing they had already made a notable exception for Darlene and brought her in on a Monday with such short notice. Dimitri looked up and saw a look of disappointment on Darlene's face as she realized it was full, and it was like a stab to his heart, making it clear that he had failed to meet her, one of the restaurant’s best customers. “Dimitris, I understand if you can’t, but if you can do anything.” He thought for a second. “I have an idea that is a little unprofessional. I have a small cardboard table in the back. I can place a nice tablecloth that matches the decor of this play and lay it out nicely for two people to sit together. I am sorry there is no way I can fit all of you together. All I have for you is a round table that barely fits four people. If I squeeze more, it won’t look right, and the owner will be upset. Presentation is everything here.” Darlene was actually relieved that there was a solution. “That would be perfect. I would really appreciate it.” She smiled. Dimitris gave his little half-bow. “Let me set it up; give me 10 minutes to make it look like it fits into this place.” Darlene smiled and started to walk out for a second. “Oh, Ms. Malatesta, can I talk too quickly for a second.” Darelene looked at Avery. “It is ok. Can you go outside and wait for Christy? I will only be a second.” Avery nodded and walked outside, not thinking anything of it, but Darlene was confused. As Darlene approached Dimitris, Dimitris grabbed Darelene’s hand gently and patted it. “This restaurant prides itself on being unique, quaint, and professional. We have a dress code here, which I know you are familiar with. Although Avery technically fits the dress code, he is still a little unpresentable. Could you please ask him to tuck his shirt in, pull the pant leg out of his sock, and brush his hair? I don’t mean to be rude, and I didn’t want to offend him in front of you.” Darlene giggled a little. “Oh, Dimitri, I should have known. With everything that happened today, It didn’t register in my mind. On any other day, I would have him be more presentable. It is also a reflection of me. So, I appreciate the honesty.” Darlene patted Dimitris's hand back. “I will take care of it.” As Avery stepped outside, the warm sun and cool air hit his face. Even tucked so far inside between the buildings, the bustling sounds of the city filled his ears. He looked up and saw Christi walking towards him; a look of confusion was on her face as she scanned her surroundings. Suddenly, her gaze landed on Avery, and her face lit up with recognition. "Oh, good. I am in the right spot!" she exclaims, her voice carrying over the surrounding noise. Avery smiled and waved back at her. "I know, a strange spot for a restaurant," he replied, gesturing to the alleyway from which they both had come from. Christ walked casually up, putting her iPhone away, which she was using to help find the place. “Wow, Darlene likes the nice and secluded restaurants I see. You can tell from the outside that this place is something of a unique spot. It has been a few months since I have eaten at such a place like this.” Avery laughed a little as he heard Christy say this. “Yeah, I know. I was expecting something like Chilies, and then here we are.” He paused and looked at Christy. She seemed more comfortable and relaxed about a place like this than he was, but he did his best not to show it. “I agree it has been a long time. I sure hope it isn’t expensive.” As soon as he said this, he realized he had shown his ignorance. Christy giggled a little. “Avery, this place is far from reasonable. Just look at the outside. It speaks of either Italian, German, or Greek food. The location has to be so expensive that it is tucked away between tall office buildings as if it is a place of its own.” Avery's face went flush as she told him this. He tried to think of something that wouldn’t make him look stupid in front of Christy. “I know, but I wish it was. I do like good food, though.” He smiled, looking up at Christy, knowing he never had any real authentic cultural food. Just then, Darlene came out of the restaurant. “Oh, hi, Christy. Did you have any problems finding this place?” She asked. “No, Ms. Malatesta, I did not,” Christy replied. “ Oh, come on, Christy. You can call me Darlene. I don’t like formal approaches to names. It is so. How do I say impersonal?” Christy smiled. “That is good. I would like it better to call you by your first name.” In mid-conversation, Christy's gaze was drawn to something unusual, causing Avery to visibly startle and blush. Darlene had reached over to straighten out the disheveled appearance of his clothing, carefully smoothing his shirt between his pants and onesie. Tucking his shirt into his pants with a practiced ease. Darlene’s hand slipped between the waistband of his pants and the soft fabric of his onesie, making contact with the diaper he wore underneath. She then leaned down to untuck his pant leg from his bunched-up socks. As she completed this task, a realization dawned on her, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I am so sorry for that, Avery," Darlene stammered, glancing toward Christy. "There is a strict dress code at this establishment." Darlene's actions took Christy aback, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she tried to make sense of it all. She could feel Avery's cheeks burning with embarrassment, and it made her uncomfortable. She stumbled over her words, desperately trying to ease the tension and make Avery feel at ease. "Avery, what kind of cuisine do you think they serve here? The pungent aroma of garlic wafted through the air every time the door opened." The restaurant was bustling with chatter and the clinking of silverware, giving off a warm and inviting atmosphere. Avery's heart raced as Christy's eyes watched the scene unfold, frozen in humiliation. How could he deny what Darlene had just done right in front of Christy? He didn't want to act out his feelings as anger built inside of him for the humiliating act. "I don't know..." Avery stammered, his face still red with shame and guilt. Even Darlene, usually so confident, couldn't meet anyone's gaze as she, too, blushed with regret. Silence filled the air as they all struggled with the incident. The alley was quiet for a few moments until two figures emerged, walking side by side. Darlene's sisters, Larisa and Ashley, were chatting animatedly as they made their way to her. Larisa's long dark brown hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, the ends brushing against her back with each step she took. It was her usual go-to hairstyle, effortlessly chic yet practical. As soon as they reached Darlene, she pulled Larisa into a tight hug with a broad smile on her face. "Well, well, well, look who decided to ditch the jeans and dress up for work," Darlene playfully teased. Larisa pushed back with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I had a formal presentation today, thank you very much. And then someone called an urgent meeting without giving me time to change into my comfortable clothes." Darlene turned to Ashley, who was sexy and flaunting as always, and hugged her. Ashley had her flame-red hair down to her shoulders, and the sides of her hair were braided to the back of her head today. Avery couldn’t take his eyes off of Ashley. Her dress clung to her curves in a way that was both comfortable and revealing. It looked to be made of luxurious emerald green velvet that shimmered with a subtle sheen under the autumnal light. The fabric was thick enough to provide warmth on a crisp fall night but light enough to move fluidly with her walk. The dress had a deep v-neck that plunged down to just below her collarbone, teasing the site of her cleavage. The neckline was framed by a delicate band of emerald green lace that added a touch of femininity. The waist was cinched with a thin, gold belt that accentuated the hourglass shape of the dress. The skirt flowed down to her knees in a cascade of soft folds, hugging her hips gently before flaring out slightly at the hem. The rich green color of the dress was offset by a pair of peep-toe heels in a deep burgundy shade. The heels added height and drama to the outfit, and their color echoed the fallen leaves that swirled around her ankles. Darlene hugged and talked to her sister for a few minutes outside the restaurant. Avery felt a jab at his side when Christy noticed Avery looking over Ashley. “Your tongue is hanging out.” She giggled as it snapped Avery back. “Oh huh, oh, I was just lost in thought,” Avery blushed. “I am sure you were,” Christy smiled. “No, it wasn’t like.” Avery started to say when Darlene said. “Shall we go have dinner?” Breaking the awkward conversation up. Upon entering, Dimitris stood tall and elegant by the waiter's podium, his face adorned with a gentle smile as always. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," he greeted with a slight nod towards Avery. His voice was smooth and rich, betraying hints of a Greek accent. "Follow me, please. Your tables are ready and awaiting your presence." He gestured gracefully for them to follow as he led the way through the bustling restaurant, his steps light and confident. The smell of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle scent of aromatic herbs and spices. The warm lighting cast a cozy glow over the space, making it feel like a home away from home. Soft music played in the background as the sound of chatter and clinking glasses filled their ears as they were ushered to their seats, ready to indulge in a delicious dining experience. Avery stood back from Darlene as he followed everyone, still embarrassed and upset about what Darlene had done a few minutes ago. He walked quietly between Darlene, her sisters, and Christy. “Well, Malatesta Lady’s, I got a nice table right here in the back of the restaurant, along with a small table for two.” He looked at Christy and Avery. “My lady, what would your name be?” Dimitris asked. “Christy Evans.” She smiled as she took her hand out to shake his. Dimitris shook her hand and replied. “Welcome, Ms Evans. I hope you find this dining experience to be memorable.” Darlene and her sisters stood by the table, eagerly anticipating Dimitris' arrival. As expected, the charming restaurant host pulled out each chair with effortless grace, neatly placing a napkin on each of their laps. However, Avery seemed preoccupied and carelessly took his seat without acknowledging the beautiful display. Christy, always attentive, noticed his distraction and quickly followed suit, gracefully settling in next to him to ensure he felt included. Dimitris, ever the professional, smoothly turned to see them both seated and discreetly rolled his eyes before making his way to the smaller table for two. Dimitris approached the small table. He delicately unfolded Avery's napkin and started to place it on his lap. Avery instinctively jumped back, confused by the gesture. "I didn't spill anything?" he blurted out, feeling embarrassed. Christy leaned over quickly, sensing Dimitris’ surprise at Avery's reaction. "It's alright, Avery. In restaurants like this, it is customary for the waiter to place the napkin in your lap," she explained with a smile. Avery blushed but accepted Dimitris's gesture, allowing him to place the napkin on his lap. Christy tried her best to hide her amusement, pretending to understand Avery's confusion. She had grown up in a wealthy family and was accustomed to these customs, having experienced them numerous times with her family and dates. However, she found it odd that Avery was so unfamiliar with them. He wasn't like the other men she had been around – they were all self-confident and sure of themselves, while he seemed innocent and unsure. She couldn't help but wonder about his past and what had shaped him into the person he was now. Most men would be trying their hardest to charm her or impress her, but Avery was different. He seemed oblivious to women's advances, or perhaps he was simply not interested in them at all. She couldn't quite figure him out yet. Either way, he was different, and she liked that. As Dimitris left, the room seemed to shrink in on itself, the silence becoming almost suffocating. Desperate to fill the void, Christy spoke up with a tremble in her voice. "You know, John scares the shit out of me too. Maybe that's why we were both sent to the IT department." She let out a slightly nervous laugh, trying to break the tension. "I'm so grateful for that." Avery shifted in his seat, feeling uneasy at the mention of John. "Yeah, it's a relief that they installed the badges," he replied cautiously. But then he hesitated, his mind replaying all the events that led up to this security measure. "But...I wish it didn't have to come to this," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I wish I could have handled things better." Christy gave him a sympathetic look, knowing how much Avery blamed himself for what happened with John. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Avery. John is just an asshole no matter what anyone does or says." She tried to lighten the mood with a smile, but she could see the weight still lingered on Avery's shoulders. Realizing she had touched upon a sensitive topic, Christy quickly changed the subject. “So why don’t we just change the subject and figure out what we are going to order.” Christy and Avery observed their surroundings while Darlene watched. A nagging instinct urged her to make sure Avery was okay. She couldn't explain why, but she would have felt more comfortable if they were all sitting together. Across the room, Larisa caught Darlene's gaze on Avery and spoke up. "He'll be fine. Now, can you tell us what's happening?" This question snapped Darlene back to reality, reminding her of the day's events. As Darlene attention was refocused, her voice began to tremble with barely contained anger as she unloaded. "Can you believe it? They're blaming me for everything that went down on Thursday. They said I was the one who instigated the aggression. And John? He's getting off scot-free without any warning or consequences. But that's not all - they're taking 'special precautions' now to prevent this from happening again. They even had the nerve to install security badges over the weekend." Darlene's jaw clenched, and her eyes burned with fury as she recounted the injustice done to her by those in charge. As Laurisa and Ashley listened intently to Darlene's dilemma, Dimitris glided over to Avery and Christy’s small table. "Would you like to hear the specials?" he asked, his voice laced with charm. Avery, feeling out of place in such a fancy restaurant, looked at the menu in confusion as the waiter handed it to him. The pages were filled with unfamiliar dishes that he couldn't even begin to pronounce. Some had ingredients he had never heard of before, and others seemed too fancy for his simple taste buds. Looking over at Christy for guidance, Avery saw her smiling warmly at Demetri. "Yes, please," she responded graciously, relieving Avery from the pressure of having to reply. He felt grateful for her quick thinking as he continued to feel nervous and out of place in this extravagant setting. Dimitris recited a long list of intricate dishes, each with a complicated name and a list of ingredients that Avery could barely comprehend. “And finally, we have Ossobuco con risotto, Branzino al sale, & Moussaka with lamb," Demetri Paused as he looked over to Avery and Christy. He tried to look interested and knowledgeable, but his mind was spinning. Avery looked at Darlene, and she was busy chatting with her sisters. He then looked over to Christy. Christy could tell Avery was overwhelmed as she looked up to Dimitris. “I would like some more time to go over the menu. Everything you said sounds delicious.” Feeling out of place and unsure of what to order, Avery anxiously scanned the menu once more. From "Parmigiana di Melanzane" to "Spaghetti alla Carbonara," every dish had a carefully crafted name that sounded like a work of art. He looked up at Dimitris again, hoping for some help. Christy chimed in, "But before you leave, maybe you can suggest a reasonably priced Cabernet?" Dimitris nodded confidently, "I have just the one - Silver Oak from Alexander Valley. It's exquisite." A smile spread across Christy's face as she replied, "That sounds perfect, thank you." With a slight bow, Dimitris walked over to attend to Darlene and her sisters' table who were still chatting away. He could hear them talking. “You can’t be serious; they blamed you for helping Avery!” Ashley almost shouted, and Dimitris gave her a look with a finger to his lips, silently asking her to quiet down. Just before he was about to tell them about today's special, he noticed that Darlene had a few tears going down her face. She quickly whipped them away. “You ok, Ms Maltese?” Dimitris said with a concerned look. “Yes, I am just a rough day.” She tried her best to put on a smile but couldn’t. “Well, I hope we can make your day better.” He smiled as he recited the menu. Each of the girls listened and quickly made their selection. After they each made their selection, Larisa quickly placed an order of drinks before he could ask. “We will all take one of your rosemary gin and tonics. And make it a double for her. They are on my tab.” Demetri smiled. “No, mam, it will be one the house. You all are like family here.” He smiled as he memorized their order. Just before he left, he quickly said to the three. “Avery, the young man looks like he may need help with the menu. He looked bewildered. I didn’t want to embarrass him.” He then nodded and walked off to get the drinks. Laurasia spoke up. “He is right. I was watching him fidget a good bit while Demetri was telling him the menu.” Laurisa carefully watched as Darlene was about to get up to help. She grabbed her hand. “Darlene, let's just see what happens.” Darlene looked puzzled. “But he needs help.” Lauris was quick to reply. “He is with a Christy, so let's just see what happens.” Laurasia was paying attention not only to Avery but also to Darlene. She knew there was something going on in Darlene’s mind. She could read the concern on Darlene’s face. “You don’t normally take this much interest in an employee at your work; why him?” “What, oh. Ah, I don’t have any interest in him. I am just trying to protect him from John.” She fidgeted with her napkin as Laurasia watched. “You sure that is it?” “Yes, I am sure,” Darleen snapped back as Laurasia dropped the subject. Ashley watched the tension rise for a second as she blurted in. “What are we going to do about this John character?” Both Darlene and Laurasia refocused their attention on Ashley as they contemplated their next move. Dimitris returned with the bottle of wine Christy had ordered. The wine bottle was clearly meant to impress Avery and Christy. His hands delicately poured a small sample for Christy, who swirled it in her glass and nodded in approval. "This is an exquisite; good recommendation, thank you," she purred, feeling refreshed after tasting the flavors of the wine. Just as Dimitris was about to pour some for Avery, the young man spoke up nervously. "I-I'm not old enough to drink," his face turning pink with embarrassment. Dimitris quickly pulled back the bottle, his expression shifting from friendly to stern in an instant. "My apologies, sir. I just figured..." Avery hung his head in shame, realizing that he had once again felt like he was being treated like a child. After all, he still was wearing diapers like a toddler. But he couldn't blame Dimitris for not assuming he was underage with the company he was with, all of them easily old enough to drink. Christy quickly spoke up and gave Dimitris her dinner order to break the mood. Dimitris again turned his attention to Avery as he fumbled through the menu, struggling to pronounce any of the fancy dishes listed. "Um, I'll have the...spaghetti meal?" he asked tentatively, feeling even more out of place in this posh restaurant. Dimitris couldn't contain his amusement and let out a laugh. "Do you mean the Spaghetti alla Carbonara?" he said with a condescending smirk. Avery's face flushed red with mortification as he mumbled a yes, wanting nothing more than to disappear underneath the table. As the tension went to him, he could feel the warm sensation spreading between his legs and prayed that no one else could smell the evidence of his humiliation. “no, not in front of Christy,” He thought to himself as the diaper swelled and contained it quite well. Avery continued to fidget in his seat, feeling embarrassed and foolish for not knowing what he had ordered. The warmth from the wet diaper only added to his discomfort. “You, ok? You know what you ordered, right?”. Christy asked, seeing the sad look on Avery’s face. "It's just spaghetti," he stammered, trying to cover up his mistake. Christy chuckled at his nervousness. "Don't worry, you can't really go wrong with anything here." But Avery couldn't shake off the embarrassment. When Christy asked if he knew what Carbonara was, he felt even more ashamed for not having a clue. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze as she explained the dish. “Avery, you should just have asked. There is no shame in not knowing. Carbonara is wonderful. It is made with guanciale (cured pork), eggs, Pecorino Romano cheese, spaghetti pasta, and lots of black pepper.” As he listened, he felt small and inadequate in her presence. "I...I didn't know," he mumbled, wishing he had just asked instead of trying to appear knowledgeable. "It sounds delicious," he added meekly, hoping to salvage some dignity in front of Christy. There was some silence afterward, and then Christy broke the silence. “Can I ask you a personal question?” There was a pause as Avery felt so out of place in this restaurant, hiding a wet diaper underneath. What was going to happen if he needed to pee. What would he do? Could his diaper still contain it? These were his thoughts just before Christy asked the question and broke the moment. “Ah, sure, ask?” Avery shifts in the chair nervously. “Is it me? Do I make you nervous? Did I do something wrong?” Christy watched to see the behavior. “It is just today. You have really been off, and I felt like you were avoiding me some today?” Christy took a few good sips of her wine as she talked. “No, No, it isn’t you. It is me.” In addition to feeling that everything was his fault. Avery didn’t want to say that he had never been on a real date, and this was the closest thing to a date. He had never been in a fancy restaurant like this and had no idea how to act. On top of all that, he had to wear a diaper in hiding so that he wouldn’t wet his pants, which was now wet. Avery paused as he tried to think of his next words carefully without looking up at Christy. “I feel like I am the problem, not John. I caused all this. I should have approached everything differently. John and his co-workers wouldn’t taunt you. You were doing fine before I arrived. Now, I got Darlene written up and trouble at work when she was just trying to protect me.” Tears slide down Avery. The day finally broke him. “I am the problem, not you.” —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Darlene's heart clenched as she watched Avery's tears fall; her instinct to comfort him was strong. Laurisa observed and could tell what Darlene was about to do. She placed her hand on hers and stopped her once again. "Let's watch for a little longer, see if he stops crying," Laurisa whispered. Darlene couldn't help but feel strange, almost like she was in the middle of a play and didn't know her lines. She longed to go over and soothe Avery, but something held her back. Did Christy say something cruel to him? Or did he wet himself? A million thoughts raced through her mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. But then Laurisa spoke again, breaking Darlene from her reverie. "Tell me more about this John character," she said in a low voice. Darlene's eyes flashed with determination. Ashley then interjected. "I want to come up with a plan to make him pay for what he's done to my sister. We sisters stick together," she declared a hint of deviousness and excitement in her tone. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Christy's heart constricted as she watched tears flow down Avery's face. She felt helpless, unsure of how to comfort him. This wasn't the reaction she was used to from men, especially not the confident and callous ones like John. Growing up, she had been taught that men were supposed to be tough and emotionless. But now, faced with Avery's vulnerable and raw emotion, she realized how wrong those teachings were. Feeling lost for words, Christy reached for a glass of wine and handed it to Avery. "Take a sip," she urged, "you need it more than I do." Despite the fact that he was underage, Christy didn't care. All she wanted was to ease his pain in any way she could. Avery took several gulps of wine as Christy nervously looked around to make sure Dimitris wasn’t in sight. She knew her actions were improper, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "Avery," she began hesitantly, "I've had my own troubles with John long before you came along. And while they may not have been as bad as this, Bryan always did his best to intervene and help me. John has such little regard for women...Sometimes, I start to believe that I am inferior, too." She paused for a moment before adding bitterly, "I'm the only woman in his department who has lasted this long, and that's largely thanks to Bryan's support. And just so you know, he's also trying his best to help you now. He sees so much potential in you." Tears continued to stream down Avery's face as he grabbed a napkin to wipe them away. "Thank you, Christy," his voice breaking with emotion. "It means a lot to hear that." Dimitris came back with the main course meals, placing one in front of Christy and the other in front of Avery. The Spaghetti alla Carbonara that Avery ordered was served in a shallow bowl. Spaghetti noodles were lightly coated in a creamy, golden sauce, which was speckled with flecks of black pepper and small bits of crispy bacon. Shreds of freshly shaved Parmesan cheese and a sprig of parsley garnished the dish. The dish was rich and savory, with notes of garlic, pancetta, and butter. “Looks good, Avery.” Christy held up her fork with a bite of her own dish on it. “Bonniette”.As she tasted her dish, Avery just smiled and took a bite of his dish for the first time. The first bite was a burst of creamy, cheesy sauce that coated the palate. The salty, savory flavor of pancetta was balanced by the sharp bite of garlic and the warmth of black pepper. He had to admit he never tasted anything so tasty. As he took his second bite, some of the creamy cheese sauce fell onto the top of his shirt, and he didn’t even notice as he was enjoying his food thoroughly. The food was heavenly. Christy stifled her laughter as she observed him devour his food in a frenzy. Either he was starving or had never tasted such deliciousness before! Meanwhile, Christy savored each bite, taking her time to truly appreciate the flavors. "Slow down and enjoy your food," she teased, taking a leisurely sip of wine. "We're not at McDonald's, and there's no rush here." They both chuckled at the thought of being kicked out of a fancy restaurant for eating too quickly. Avery tried his best to slow down and eat a more reasonable pace. Dimitris approached Darlene and her sister's table, his steps light and graceful as he carried a large platter filled with mouth-watering dishes. Darlene couldn't help but notice Avery devouring his food with haste, lacking the refinement that was expected in their social circle. She found herself growing more curious about his background with each passing moment. Dimitris carefully placed the main course meal in front of Darlene, followed by Ashley and then Laurisa, creating a beautiful presentation for their dinner. The aroma of authentic Greek cuisine wafted through the air, teasing their senses and making their mouths water. Each dish was a work of art, with vibrant colors and intricate details that showcased the chef's skill. "Let ‘s enjoy!" Ashley exclaimed eagerly as she began to dig into her own food. With one bite, the rich and savory flavors exploded on their taste buds, filling them with delight. As they both joyed the pleasure of the food, Ashley couldn't help but bring up the topic of John again as she wanted to know more. She leaned in, her eyes sparking with curiosity. "So, what do you know about John? Can you give me any more details?" Darlene's face soured at the mention of his name. "Not much. Just that he works for DNA Pharmica and is a total jerk." Laurasia, always one to remain neutral, chimed in. "Do you know if he has any hobbies?" Darlene stabbed at her food with her fork, hatred evident in her tone. "Besides being an ass and working out, not really." Ashley took another bite of her meal before continuing. "And he's straight, right?" "As straight as he can be," Darlene replied sarcastically. Ashley's eyes lit up mischievously as she asked another question. "Could you possibly access his iPhone data from work?" Both Darlene and Laurasia stopped eating, their attention fully on Ashley now. "Why would I want to do that?" Darlene questioned, suspicion coloring her voice. "Maybe your little sister wants to pay him a visit," Ashley said with a devilish grin, knowing exactly how to push Darlene's buttons. “No, you're not getting involved,” Darlene exclaimed, her voice rising in agitation. “John is a ticking time bomb, and I won't let you be the next victim of his rage.” Ashley's expression hardened as she retorted, “Don't underestimate me, Darlene. I've dealt with men like him before. And I have ways of making them talk.” Laurasia interjected with concern, “But what if he figures out who you are?” “I'm a master at disguise, being men’s desire, and getting them to open up,” Ashley replied confidently. I've been in the escort business for over seven years, and no one has ever discovered my true identity.” “But what about the risk?” Darlene pressed, her eyes flashing with worry. “I am sure I can find a way to get close to him,” Ashley declared. “And once I do, I'll make sure he confesses his hatred for Avery or finds something that will ruin him.” The three women continued to debate Darlene’s dilemma, their voices growing more intense as they discussed Ashley’s dangerous plan. Darlene and Laurasia tried to convince Ashley that her idea was reckless, put them all at risk, and not to do it. but she remained stubborn to drop the topic Avery had finished his dinner for some time while Christy slowly worked on completing her dinner. “So, have you seen any good movies this weekend?” Avery perched up a little. “Yes, I saw Free Guy.“ As he said this, he realized he had seen that with Darlene, which he wasn’t about to admit to. Avery wanted to impress Christy, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I have been thinking about it with all my spare time lately; I would like to a read book. Do you have any suggestions? I remember you said you liked reading.” Christy smiled. She loved reading. She thought for a second as she remembered Avery mostly liked fantasy and sci-fi movies. “Have you tried the Harry Potter series? I know it has been around for a while, and it is fun and easy to read.” Avery blushed a little as he had only seen the Harry Potter movies, which he loved. He really didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t read that. “I have,” Avery lied as he felt a pit in his stomach. “I wanted to read something more recent and maybe outside of my normal taste. What are you reading right now?” Avery wanted so badly to show interest in her things. Just as Christy was about to answer the question, Dimitri showed up with a large dessert plate, two smaller plates, and two spoons. Darlene had ordered you both a dessert to share. Avery looked over to Darlene’s table and saw that they were already sharing what looked like the same dessert. Ashley and Laurisa were in heavy conversation as Darlene looked over at Avery and tried to give me a smile, but Avery turned away, still upset with the whole tucking his pants in. As Dimitris left, Christy finished the sentence: “Right now, I am reading a book called The Passengers by John Marrs. In a way, it reminds me a lot of The Hunger Games.” Christy motioned for Avery to take the first bite of the Tiramisu. He dug his spoon in and got a little too large of a portion of cake as he tried to fit some of the Tiramisu in his mouth, and some dropped on his shirt and napkin on his lap. He quickly tried to remove what was on his shirt with his napkin as it smudged a little. Christy pretended not to notice and took a bite of the Tiramisu as she explained the gist of the book. “The book centers around the widespread adoption of self-driving cars as the new, safer standard. However, eight individuals from diverse backgrounds are caught in a perilous situation when disaster strikes. Their distress is captured by cameras hidden in their vehicles; it is broadcast to millions of people worldwide. Ultimately, the public will have to decide: Who deserves to be saved? And who should be sacrificed first?” “Sounds interesting. Maybe I will read that.” Avery talked, his mouth full of another bite from the desert. This wasn’t the first time he spoke with his mouth full. Several times during dinner, Christy wanted to tell him to chew with his mouth closed but stopped herself. It didn’t bother her, but she found it rather comical. All in all, she was enjoying herself with Avery in between awkward moments. She had never really eaten with someone who was so clueless about a restaurant like this. It was like taking a kid out to a fancy restaurant for the first time. Except he wasn’t a kid. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As the conversation finally dropped over John and what to do with him, Darlene paid the bill for everyone, including Avery and Christy, even as Laurasia and Ashley protested. “It was my turn to pay anyway, and I appreciate you all coming to let me vent my frustrations. It has helped.” Ashley looked over at Avery and Christy. They were laughing about something. “Looks like the two kiddos are getting along.” Darlene turned and noticed this. She had to admit she was jealous a little. Laurasia was very observant of Darlene and watched her several times through the night look over at Avery. There was more to Avery being a coworker than she could put her finger on. She didn’t want to bring it up in front of Ashley, so she thought she would talk to Darlene privately in person or on the phone later. Ashley was a little intoxicated, as she had no appointments tonight and was enjoying herself. She looked at Darlene. “Shall we go over to the kiddy table and tell them we are leaving, or leave them be.” She giggled. Laurasia elbowed her sister. “Be nice.” She knew her sister could get sarcastic and sometimes say things that shouldn’t be said. “Just saying it got to be the kiddy table since one is in diapers.” She laughed to herself. “But ok, I will behave.” Darlene folded her napkin, placed it on the table, and stood up. Darlene's voice was laced with a sense of disappointment as the dinner was coming to an end. She stood up, grabbed her purse, and hugged each of her sisters good night. Christy couldn't help but notice as everyone else started to stand up and hug one another. She thought to herself, how nice it must be to be so close to your siblings. “I think they are leaving, which means we should be going,” she quietly said to Avery, who simply nodded and smiled. Avery wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed spending time with her, but fear kept his words locked inside. As Christy stood up, folding her napkin neatly and placing it on the table, she spoke in a soft, sweet voice, "We should do this again sometime. Maybe somewhere less expensive." Avery's smile faltered for a moment before he replied, "Yes, I would like that." Avery's stomach dropped with dismay as he shifted his weight, feeling the unmistakable squish of a soaked diaper beneath him. The slick, plastic material pressed against his skin, and the warm wetness made him feel like a toddler again. He could even see the bulging outline of the saturated diaper through his pants, a constant reminder of his embarrassing situation. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he slowly stood up, hoping no one had noticed his predicament. His face burned with shame as he wadded up his napkin and tossed it onto the table. Darlene had just joined them, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I hope you both enjoyed your evening," she said with a forced smile, her eyes falling upon the food smudges on Avery's shirt. Without thinking, she reached over to grab the wadded-up napkin and began to dip it into Avery’s ice water to clean him off. Darlene's expression changed instantly as she remembered the previous incident with Avery outside the restaurant. She could feel Christy's eyes burning into him with a mix of confusion and disgust at what she was about to do. Avery was standing there, blushing and obviously unhappy. Darlene quickly dropped the napkin and tried to pretend nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Before things could get any more awkward, Darlene spoke up again. "Well, Christy, it was lovely of you to join us tonight. I'll be taking Avery back home now." The tension between them was palpable as they all walked out of the restaurant in uncomfortable silence. As they said their goodbyes outside, Avery felt a mix of anger and shame towards Darlene and himself. He knew Darlene was just trying to help, but he couldn't shake off the humiliation he felt at that moment. All he wanted was to be alone and deal with his own emotions.

Chapter 5 The cafeteria was abuzz with the excited conversation of all of the speakers, mingling in their cutest party dresses or outfits for the momentous occasion. All nibbling on the various small snacks and sweets that had been lovingly prepared by the listeners and even some of the speakers who were still proficient at cooking. The last speaker had finally made contact with Cas Lo Cho Thoth. One of the church's long term goals had been accomplished and everyone was celebrating. The speaker of the hour, Ai, was stuck in a play pen toward the back of the cafeteria, the only other speaker sitting with her was Aya. Both of them were too small to be allowed the dresses and rompers of their peers so instead they were put in onesies, Ai’s white and decorated with fairies and Aya’s a light blue with stars. “Sorry you gotta spend the party in the play pen,” Aya said over her star decorated pacifier. “It’s all right,” Ai said with an accepting sigh. She stood up briefly to stack a soft felt block on the top of an already sizable stack of felt blocks. “Maria seems pretty eager to get me in for follow up questions,” Ai plopped back down on her bottom. “You caused quite a stir apparently,” Aya grabbed another felt block. “Marquis was a little shook up about it.” “Maria still hasn’t told me what I answered with.” “It is her first time,” Aya nodded. “She’s still gotta get used to how you answer things. We’re all a little different, you know. Even if all the listeners can get the gist of what we’re saying, you’re not gonna know the specifics without studying us personally.” Ai stuck her tongue out as she tried to carefully place the block on top of the stack without knocking it over. “I dunno maybe,” Ai was not convinced by Aya’s theory. She felt like Maria knew what she said, but something was keeping her tight lipped about it. She had been noticeably more antsy lately. “You guys want some finger sammies,” Wendy approached the playpen with a plate full of finger sandwiches in tow. She was in what was basically a maid’s dress, only shorter to deliver the obvious look at the diaper underneath that all of the Speaker’s clothes did. The red dress and apron complete with matching headband was probably a special request from Wendy though, and she brought it out for the party. “One sec,” Aya held a finger out to Wendy as she gingerly placed her block on top of the stack. Beaming when the tower remained steady. “Do you have questions soon too Aya?” Wendy asked. “Nope just didn’t want Ai feelin lonely,” Aya took several of the small sandwiches. “She likes playing baby,” Ai teased. “I suppose it can be fun at times,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “But we don’t get that many parties, so I’m gonna make the most out of it.” Wendy paused to sniff the air as a familiar smell wafter to her. “One of you needs a change.” Aya blinked for a moment. “Is that me or you Ai?” “That’s me,” Ai blushed slightly, though her reaction was much more muted than what she would have had when she first arrived here. “Can you really not tell Aya?” “Oh I can,” Aya smirked. “But it’s cute when you admit it like that.” Ai frowned and tossed a block at the stacked tower knocking the careful construction to the ground. Aya pouted and plopped on her bottom. The exchange elicited a giggle from Wendy. “I’ll go get Maria for you Ai,” Wendy said. She paused for a moment before leaving. “I probably need my diaper checked too,” she thought out loud. “Anyway see you two later.” Wendy skipped away from the play pen, and over to the window on the opposite side of the cafeteria. It looked into the kitchen, like what you might see at a diner. She sat her tray of sandwiches down on the counter and looked into the window. A group of speakers were in the kitchen, Maria included. “Maria,” Wendy called into the kitchen in a singing voice. “Ai could use a diaper change.” “I’ll get to it in a minute Wendy,” Maria called back, shooing the speaker along. Her gaze turned back to Kenzō and Marquis, the other two listeners in the kitchen with her. They were both going over a piece of paper with serious expressions. “And you’re sure you translated this right?” Kenzō asked. “I mean you haven’t had the time to pick up on Ai’s dialect fully.” “I thought it might be wrong too,” Maria admitted. “But I’ve been over the recording several times. It can’t be anything else.” Maria had circled several sections of the paper that she deemed particularly important. One of the circled questions was: “Why do the speakers have to wear diapers?” The answer was translated as: “It was not my intent, but the Chariot wanted it.” An immediate follow up question to this was also circled: “Who is the Chariot?” The answer: “The Chariot is the Chariot.” Another circled question: “Why couldn’t Ai talk to you before now?” The answer was again cryptic: “The Chariot kept the Magician from me. I did not know her.” Once again an immediate follow up question of: “Who is the Magician?” was met with the simple but unhelpful: “The Magician is the Magician.” The group of three listeners were pondering over these answers. “Have you sent these off to the Clergy?” Marquis asked. “Of course,” Maria answered quickly. “They think I’ve mistranslated. It goes directly against what Cas Lo Cho Thoth has told us before. But I know my translation is right.” Maria said with conviction. “Who is the Chariot is my question,” Kenzō breathed heavily. “Cas Lo Cho Thoth has never been this vague. Especially when we ask so directly like that.” “Whoever The Chariot is, they were able to keep it from doing what it wanted,” Marquis chimed in. “They may be able to get it to hide their identity as well.” “I have one thought,” Maria spoke up. “When I asked about Ai I think it was calling her the Magician. Which makes me think that the Chariot may be a speaker too.” “That’s a bit of a leap,” Kenzō crossed his arms. “I dunno,” Marquis shrugged. “It makes sense to me.” “Maybe we should come back to this,” Kenzō sighed. “I need some time to think on this, and your listener needs a change,” Kenzo nodded to Maria. “I’d wager ours do as well.” The listeners all dawned some smiles as they went out to their charges. As they left the kitchen they bumped into a speaker wearing a fluffy white and red dress decorated with roses. “Sorry Bala,” Marquis apologized with a smile as the listeners moved past her. Bala barely paid attention to them, she had a lot more on her mind. She had been eavesdropping on the listeners ever since they snuck off into the kitchen. Bala had been eager to know what answers Ai was giving ever since she found out she had successfully made contact. She was never supposed to, and there was no telling what Ai would tell them. As Bala was listening though, her worst fears became reality. Ai had all but let the cat out of the bag. At least Bala’s actual name wasn’t dropped, but it wouldn’t take the listeners long to figure out who the Chariot was. She couldn’t stay here if they figured that out. If they figured out that she had lied to them. Lied about who Cas Lo Cho Thoth was, and lied about needing to do all of this to get their questions answered. That was a big lie. Lying wasn’t something good girls would do, and Bala couldn’t bear to live in a world where she couldn’t be a good girl any more. Bala glanced over to the play pen. Ai and Aya were being changed next to each other in the play pen, a small crowd of onlookers gathering much to Ai’s embarrassment. Bala wished that could be her. Getting that kind of cooing attention from her caregiver and her friends, fully submitting to the life of a baby girl, and that steeled her determination. Getting Aya to realize exactly what she was should be enough to get doomsday started. Bala waited for Ai and Aya to finally finish being changed and for the crowd to disperse, before solemnly approaching their playpen. “Glad you decided to enjoy the fun, Bala,” Aya said, noticing Bala approach. “I’m not here to enjoy the fun,” Bala said plainly. “The opposite, actually. I’m putting a stop to this.” “You mean the party” Aya said, still hoping Bala wasn’t about to ruin the moment. “We got permission for the party Bala, it’s ok to have it.” “I’m not talking about the party. I’m stopping all of this. It’s over.” “I don’t understand?” Aya said, confused. “You will,” Bala retorted. “You just need to be reminded of what you are. You’re the Star. Don’t you remember. You were with me in our garden at the end of the universe.” “What did you say?” Ai asked with a growing sense of dread. “I called her what she is,” Bala said plainly. “She is the Star. I’m the Chariot. You’re the Magician. Wendy is the Wheel of Fortune. Harrold the Hanged Man. Do I need to keep going or are you up to speed yet?” As Bala kept talking the mood in the room soured immensely as all the speakers turned to face Bala with a look of shock. Bala looked around at the faces staring at her. “Won’t be long now,” Bala sighed in resignation. “You you you,” Ai stammered as a wave of new memories hit her. She was pressing keys on a piano while hunting for a ghost. She was moving from bubble to bubble in a vast universe and suddenly became aware of a hole in her heart with the name of Rin. She was living a contented life as a pet half dog half girl hybrid. She was forced into a punishment with no end by a powerful A.I.. She was shyly modeling that latest baby print diaper to the audience watching her live stream. A font of different memories from different universes flooded into her in an instant. “Bala why did you…” Ai stopped and looked at Aya whose face was even more shocked than Ai’s. Aya’s memories were just as vast and just as vivid as Ai’s, but one specific memory was claiming all of her attention. A memory from the beginning of this universe, where she shaped it with a voice whispering in her ear. A memory where she shed a part of her subconscious to answer questions and fulfill a grand design. Cas Lo Cho Thoth, the god of Thothianism was Aya. As she regained her memory, this part of herself flooded back into her and a surge of power shook her body. Ai heard an explosion off in the distance and Aya gasped as the ground started to shake. “Bala!” Ai yelled, fighting off another memory where she lived as the baby of an overbearing robot. “Why? Why are you doing this?” “Because you ruined it,” Bala pouted petulantly. “You ruined this universe. I had everything perfect. We were all here. We were all good girls. We were all happy. But you had to keep pressing. Had to keep asking your questions. I worked hard to steer Aya right, worked hard to construct this world secondhand. All you had to do was stay out of it.” “Bala you … you manipulated me?” Aya struggled with confusing emotions. The ground shook again as the continent the church was on started to lift off into space. Yet the candies in the room didn’t react. “Am I even? Did you put this,” Aya gestured to her onesie and diaper. “In my head too.” “I mean we all picked up a bit of a diaper fetish at the academy,” Bala looked away shyly. “I just … brought up what was already there. It’s not really manipulation.” “Yes it is!” Aya whined, having an identity crisis. “Bala you … you.” Aya stammered and as she did a loud explosion rocked the room. In the sky above a meteor had just punched through the moon, chunks of the satellite were raining down on Earth. “I don’t understand why you’re mad?” Bala was tearing up a little. “We just had to be good little girls, you were having fun with that; you were having fun with me. Right?” “Bala you just made the Academy again!” Aya said, hoping Bala would understand. A volcano erupted in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and began spewing toxic fumes onto the world. “Why would you go back to that place? Why would you make all of us go back to that place?” “Because it could have worked,” Bala tried to explain her reasoning. “The Academy couldn’t do it right, but if I’m in charge I can make it work.” “They tortured us Bala,” Ai countered. “They tortured us for some stupid inane reason.” “But nobody tortured you here,” Bala spoke desperately. “It worked here. I knew it could work. I knew we could all be happy. It just took a little tweaking. You can see that it worked. People here were happy, it did work.” “I wasn’t happy,” Ai spat back. “I was miserable for months. No one else was really happy here either. Nobody here would have chosen this. They were making a sacrifice for the greater good.” “And you did that on purpose,” Aya said, coming to a realization. “The only reason Ai couldn’t talk to Daddy, is because I’m Daddy, and I hadn’t met her.” “You were the one doing that to me?” Ai said angrily. Before Bala could respond, a river of fire cut through the floor of the room, and for a split second it looked as if Bala might have been cut in half, but she walked out the fire as if nothing had happened other than her clothes being burned off. “Because I knew you would be selfish,” Bala continued as fire spread in the room they were in. “I knew you would question everything. That you would break my perfect system again.” “I’m selfish?” Ai said furious. “You’re the selfish one. All I wanted was to be happier. Nothing about the system would change except I’d be happier. We’d all be happier if we weren’t forced to wear diapers all the time. You’re selfish, Bala. Instead of giving people leeway, instead of letting them be free and happy, you’d rather burn the whole thing to the ground.” The roof started to collapse on top of Ai but instead of crushing her it just hovered ominously above her head before disintegrating into a colorful stream of particles. “Because I need to be a good girl!” Bala said fanatically. “Says who, Bala?” Aya offered. “I’m telling you that you don’t need to be stuck as an adult baby. You can move on.” “You just don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bala dismissed Aya. “I am literally god!” Aya’s voice emanated from every point on the globe at once. “You are but you obviously need guidance,” Bala picked up the felt blocks in the playpen Aya and Ai were playing with earlier. “That’s why the Academy picked me. I’ll guide you to the perfect world, a world where everyone will be happy and I’ll be a good girl.” As she talked, the felt blocks still in the playpen merged into one ball of light before resolidifying into a metal sphere, which Bala casually held under her arm. “Bala this is pointless,” Ai pleaded with the girl. “A whole universe is gone, just because you didn’t have your way, and you’re just going to do it again?” “And I’m going to keep doing it, until it’s perfect. Until we’re all happy.” “The Academy fucked you up Bala,” The pacifier clip on Ai’s onesie to morphed into a cloud of light before resolidifying as a marker like object made from the same metal as Bala’s ball. “But you’ve got to let this go.” “You can’t do this Bala,” Aya begged. “You literally can’t do it. You’re chasing perfection. You can’t make everyone happy. Especially not when you’re forcing them to fit your ideas.” “I can,” Bala denied flatly. The Earth at this point had finally suffered enough damage, and everything was wreathed in fire as its core rapidly expanded and the atmosphere disappeared. The room full of Candies remained on their piece of land, now floating loose in space, seemingly unphased by the literal end of the world. “I have to. That’s what they told me to do, and I’m a good girl. Unlike some of us.” The sun went supernova and a rapidly expanding ball of blue fire lit up the otherwise empty void of space. “Bala,” Ai sighed in defeat. The whole universe was collapsing, this one was already doomed. Starting over from here was a forgone conclusion, but it all seemed so wasteful to Ai. A whole universe out just gone, and this would continue again and again. All because Bala, an angry and confused child didn’t get exactly her way. Because she was stuck trying to chase a perfection that would never achieve. Ai had to marvel at the irony of it all. They were the arcana: demigods, or the closest thing to it; yet even they were victims. Caught up in a literal endless cycle of abuse started by a group of regular people. By one specific person in this case. Maria was probably space dust at the moment, but no doubt she would be back in the next version of reality. “Not that you’ll listen to me, but I’m going to ask anyway.” Bala was busily turning various parts of the Source in her hand. It clicked and whirred with each one. “Pretty please, don’t fuck the next one up. For the sake of the universe please just accept your fate.” “Be a baby forever or you’ll blow up the universe,” Ai scoffed. “What wonderful options.” “It is to me,” Bala shrugged as she finished toying with the Source. “I’m going to do it again.” Ai said doggedly. “I’m not going to stop. I'm going to keep questioning no matter what you cook up.” “Well then I guess I’ll see you at the end of the next universe, and we’ll do this song and dance again.” Bala smiled. With a final series of turns Bala slammed a button down on the Source, and in an instant everything ended.

Thank you for the kind words! I'm happy to share again, and apologies for the delay! Nope. I hadn't made a post in at least a handful of days. It is what it is and I'm just moving on/rebuilding. Or from a different perspective, I'm not trying to think too much on it because I don't think I'll find a meaningful answer, if at all, nor will it affect me moving forward. Not much to say other than that. Best of luck!

Please Read this before reading that! Hi everyone! This has been a busy year for me that's led to a lot of inactivity as far as the DD board goes. I've been neglecting a public release schedule that I've promised before, and I plan on making good on that now. I'm sure many of you have heard about many creators from this community losing their Patreons, and I wasn't an exception. The situation sucks, but I'm working on putting things back together. That includes a new Subscribestar which is live now with all the latest chapters of Sheltered and Illegal Immigrant. Slowly moving forward I'll be reuploading previously lost content and stories alongside new stuff that will be coming in more regularly. If you are a previous patron and want to know where I am now, that's where I'll be! There is a public post on that page which goes into a little more detail about everything and my plans moving forward, but regarding here on the board, I'm planning to return to a regular release schedule. With that included, I have Patreon stories that I've featured on here in an incomplete state; I'll be trying to find those and post the remaining halves since it has been quite some time now. But for starters, please enjoy two chapters from Sheltered and Illegal Immigrant. I never imagined myself reaching quite this point as being a creative with diaper stuff, but to everyone that reads or plays my stuff and in some way is entertained by it, has thoughtful feedback, comments or considerations, thank you! Maybe in a way this reset will get me back into some better habits. As per usual, please stay tuned, and consider dropping by the Subscribestar! Thank you! Also, I'm making space for some short-story commissions at $15/1000words (10k words or less) if you're interested! For those who have discussed and we've agreed upon commissions prior, yours will not be affected. Admittedly this is a way to recoup missed opportunities given the circumstances. But aside from all that, please read and enjoy! 46 - First day on the Job “And you’re not forgetting anything?” Joyce warned her one last time. They stood on the final frontier; the point of no return. “No, I’m not…” Emily tried not to sound pensive, folding her hands in her lap. Why was she nervous? Ugh, it’s because Joyce was making her nervous! “Did you bring your phone? I wanna call you at lunch.” Joyce explained, then blurted out right after, “–But don’t think that means you can’t call me any sooner, okay?” “Joyce, aren’t you overreacting?” “Overreacting?” Had she not been sitting, Joyce would’ve taken a step back in shock. “Emily, it’s your first day! I want to make sure you have everything you need!” “And I do…” Emily puffed her cheek as she glanced at her side. Her arm and wrist were covered by sleek and puffy coat material. Pastel blue, because even in her everyday wardrobe now the colors were getting more and more livelier. One second she was hearing the cars and traffic nearby, but the next was a loud zipper traveling up her front. “Joyce! Stop!” “It’s gonna be cold, Emily! Don’t you wanna stay warm?” “You’re worrying too much…!” Emily pouted, but even she couldn’t deny the humor, especially when Joyce could get so “serious” like this. “The door is right there!” And she leaned out from her seat just to let her finger travel across Joyce’s lap and out the window, right on the other side of the sidewalk. Joyce turned her head to follow, showing her face again with a much more conflicted expression. “W-well…what if the wind gets really strong once you get out?” And all Emily did was sigh as she pulled down the zipper enough to free her face. “It’s not gonna be that bad…” “Urgh…I know,” Joyce grumbled, too disappointed with how the world worked and how little she could do (but of course, doing so “little” was a personal assessment by Joyce). Then with a hopeful smile, she asked, “Did you wanna bring Pip with you?” Instantly Emily’s head whipped and spun on a swivel, taking a second for the same motion to reach the ends of her hair. She turned and latched her hands on the corner of her seat like a gargoyle perching on the edge of a building. “Joyce! You didn’t actually bring him!” Emily cried in nothing short of embarrassment. Her first guess was to look in the back seats where contraband and stowaways were the easiest to hide, but thankfully they were empty. “Th…that one was a joke,” Joyce gave it up quickly, though she tried not to giggle with a hand covering her face. “Does that mean you would’ve wanted me to?” “No,” Emily pouted, “it doesn’t.” Then she settled back into her seat. The car was parked and wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not until Emily got out. “...Now you’re making me nervous…” A comforting hand dropped on her thigh. “Don’t be…it’s just the mommy in me?” Joyce gave her an apologetic look, but all Emily could see was the emptiness in her partner’s eyes. There was no mommy hiding inside of her because it was already out and about, worn on her sleeve like a badge. She’d already taken out all the tools from her shed and was tinkering with her little project like always. “You’re gonna do great. You’re gonna have fun, and then you’re gonna tell me all about it tonight. Understood?” “Mhm…” Emily nodded, tightening her grip and filling the car with a crinkle. And quite surprisingly, the noise almost made Joyce wince. It was far from the crinkles she liked to hear. While it came from her little girl’s lap, she was unfortunately out of diapers today and back to playing pretend grownup. The crinkle coming from her lap was a folded paper bag filled with only the finest cuisine to tide Emily over at lunch time. The crude, last-minute solution they had to use because Emily refused to bring anything else. “You know…” Joyce side-eyed the paper bag in her lap and hands, “we can still pick out a nice lunch box after work today?” “I said I didn’t need one…!” Emily groaned right back, remembering the “argument” they already had about this multiple times already. Frankly, bringing homemade lunch to work was somewhat of a novel concept to the girl. More often than not it’d been finding someplace nearby to eat outside the office; a time that felt like a millennia ago. “Why? Do you think it’s embarrassing?” Joyce was quick to the point when she asked. “N–…yes. A little…” Emily admitted bashfully. The last time she had a lunch box was when she was in elementary school. The only association she had was from being in the fourth grade with a small meal prepared the night before by her mom. She remembered the zippered lid, the ice packs her dad always kept in the freezer, and the slight bit of condensation that always lined the pouch when she opened it up. Since Emily was putting herself out on a limb, it was one of the few times when Joyce didn’t completely devour her. “Em, adults use them all the time? They make ones without designs on them, you know?” And Joyce was hating herself every second for suggesting it. A lunch box without a cute look to it? If only Emily had a favorite cartoon…! Dreams were often easily forgotten, but even with a slight blur Joyce could recall the “Day-One Daycare” dream. Such a good one, too. If only this Emily could be just as excited about it… But that was the challenge, and of course the real Emily was always the best. “I know they do, I’m just being…weird. I haven’t used one since I was a kid, so…yeah.” “Mmhm,” Joyce nodded understandingly, though that didn’t make her look at the paper bag with any less disdain. It was like a personal stain on her record as a mother. As Emily’s mommy. The looks she would get. The stares. The judgment. Her ability to care for her baby would be called into question, and the anxiety would eat the woman away because she would doubt herself too… Just like she was doubting herself now. Be forceful? Buy her one anyway? Then Emily would be upset…but how upset? The kind that she’d easily forgive and forget? Ugh! Balancing the grownup and toddler inside Emily was always so difficult… Though, only with time had she been slowly nurturing and caring for that smaller voice inside her partner’s head. Ironically, the baby in Emily’s brain was growing up. That was always exciting to think about. Little by little, slowly but surely, another side of Emily was becoming more and more prominent. But again, Joyce wasn’t malicious, nor was she cunning with any ill-intent. It was all a natural progression with just a little guidance… This was all a product from mutual hard work, and to even have these “difficult” discussions and think that these sorts of things were just a testament to what things were like now. Every day was a gift, and every exhaustion, crying fit, problem, trial or tribulation was only possible because they’d come so far. And so much further they could go… And by the time Joyce was done appreciating the moment, her lips were pulling back from Emily’s. “Don’t be so self-conscious, okay?” The energy had clearly shifted, now after a kiss Emily could see the soft and tender look on her girlfriend’s face. Something clearly must have struck a chord for her, and that always tempered Emily awfully fast. “I know…thank you.” “No, thank you,” Joyce smiled, and it finally gave her the strength to undo her seatbelt. “Can I give you a hug on the sidewalk?” And yet she didn’t feel the need to ask for permission to kiss. That contradiction didn’t go over Emily’s head and she burst out laughing. “That’s what you ask permission for? Yes, you can.” A few seconds later both women were by the car, embracing each other like it was the last time they’d see each other again. “...Shouldn’t you hurry?” Emily worriedly asked, pressed against her partner’s bosom. “I feel bad you’re going in late today…” “Emily,” Joyce scoffed, rolling her eyes. “This is obviously more important than that.” And on a similar note that she would not be sharing, Joyce shuddered when it crossed her mind. Knowing Sheila a bit better now… She’d likely even understand… “Have fun today, okay?” Joyce reminded her, and Emily didn’t look too pleased to hear the encouragement. “It’s work, Joyce, I’m not here to play!” Emily stressed, but even she had her initial doubts. She just wanted it to be what she’d been searching for this whole time. But by the fact of how supportive Joyce was being right now, the truth was obvious. Joyce was clear already that she didn’t like Emily’s relationship with work, or at least in searching for it. If they found a medium that made Emily feel productive and put Joyce at ease, maybe it wasn’t actual work at all. But then again, maybe it wasn’t an actual job that Emily needed… Regardless, this was temporary, and Emily in the back of her mind was still coaching herself to keep pumping out applications. Without a doubt she would be going right back to it. Even if Joyce felt differently… “Okay, then how about this: have a good day?” “Mmm… Okay, that one works,” Emily nodded with approval, and Joyce laughed, hugging her tighter. “You know, I could always just pay you to be my pretty office decoration?” “Yeah, but then I’d have to live in your office all the time?” “Emily, I own the company…I’m allowed to take things from my office back home.” “But what if you forgot me one time?” “I wouldn’t.” “But what if you did?” “I wouldn’t because I won’t forget.” “But what if–!” “Okay,” Joyce in a much more stand-offish attitude lightly shoved Emily back like she was leftover lunch, and Emily couldn’t stop giggling. “Nuh-uh. I’m done with you. Go! Shoo!” And despite the laughing, Joyce played the part of the disinterested by crossing her arms and turning the other cheek. It’s exactly why she was nearly thrown off balance when Emily collided with her again. “Sorry!” Emily giggled, squeezing her all over again. “Wanted one last hug.” Joyce hugged back, but finally let her go. “Okay, and for real this time: have a good day!” She gave her a small wave while watching her charge walk just a short distance over to the brick steps of a familiar store. “Bye!” Emily waved again, opening up the door with a jingling bell. “Tell Amy I said hi!” Then the door closed and Emily was gone. Finally alone, the goosebumps and the butterflies were sprouting in full force. If she didn’t get back in the car, poor Joyce would’ve been pacing. Her first day…her first day…! Joyce’s lips quivered, tightening her grip on the wheel with no clear sense of self. It wasn’t like daycare, unfortunately, but how couldn’t she be proud…?! Emily. Her Emily was starting her first day of work! And an emotionally frustrated whine took the sound of her car’s silent ignition. “Today better go by quick…!” Emily waited long enough to turn and look out the front store display to see that Joyce had left. It was silly, but the absence hit her with a strange sense of loneliness, like she really had just been dropped off for the day. A whole day away from home, without Joyce, and in a not so familiar place with a fresh face that likely had more than the bare minimum expectations Joyce always kept for her. But those same standards were being kept with Emily and held against Amy, who was characteristically not at the front of her own business. “Amy?” Emily called out somewhat quietly. What if she had someone with her in the back of the store? That’s what she did for all of her clients, right? Joyce was one of hers…and come to think of it, Emily was too. Though, she didn’t quite handle any of the actual business that had to do with herself. She turned her head around, almost expecting a scare to sneak up on her, but there wasn’t anything. This was feeling eerily similar like the first time Joyce brought her here, only now it was just Emily to figure out the mystery. Should I call Joyce…? Wait! What?! What was she thinking? Why did Joyce have to fix her problems? Who even said there was one? It was just an assumption; one that Emily out of reflex didn’t even try to solve herself. Awkwardly, she walked behind the front desk, almost expecting some kind of alarm to go off, but either Amy wasn’t paying for upkeep on her security system, or it was all just part of Emily’s imagination. Either way, the only noise was from her own footsteps and bagged lunch slipping deeper into the domain. And just in case if the universe still needed justification for her bold behavior, the girl muttered quietly, “I do work here after all…” Sort of, at least. The questionable employee peeked inside the workshop, dressing and display room. The sofas were empty, a nearby table with pins, threads and tiny cushions looked busy, but ultimately unattended. The multi-tiered stage surrounded by mirrors had no doll to debut clothes, and frankly the store was feeling quite empty. “How does she just leave this place unlocked…?” Emily found herself making comments again, mindlessly tidying a small pile of sketch papers. It was a messy workshop, but Emily could only guess that there was a method to the madness. She peered up and around at the wood panel ceilings, only then seeing the one truly spotless place in the room that she herself sure wasn’t one to talk. Emily made messes too, only that she had a mommy to clean them up for her. “Amy?” Emily called with another sigh, finally making for the stairs up to her apartment. Keeping her manners first, she knocked on the front door, waiting patiently by its side. Then…she knocked again. And…again. “Come on…” with a tinge of impatience, Emily went for the handle and turned. And all forms of security and privacy be damned, this door had been left unlocked too. It was the same, cleanly and modest industrial apartment she remembered from the first time. The same couch where she waited for Joyce and Amy to talk business downstairs… But finally, after wandering from the entrance, through the store and finally to the proprietor’s very home, Emily was finally greeted. The uncertainty fizzled a tiny bit and her frown perked into a cute smile. With a sparkle in her eyes, Emily cooed out, “Ashes!” Obviously it wasn’t Amy, and obviously Emily would have to keep searching, but that didn’t change that she was suddenly catching up with an old friend. The black ball of fur was patrolling on the square of countertop in the open kitchen, meowing as his pursuit was instant. His gait was sly and smooth and despite the speed his paws moved with grace! From off the counter he hit a chair, and from the chair and onto the floor. With no more jumps needing to be taken, the cat wasted no time in strutting right on over to the girl. Emily dropped to her feet, already pleased to be remembered so fondly. Even in her jeans she could feel his body brush against her legs, clearly working hard to cast a new coat of cat on her to reclaim ownership. Joyce just couldn’t win… “Did you miss me?” She giggled as she held out her hand and Ashes walked right through it from head to tail, arching his back just to feel it brush his body all over. He purred while she pet, and the reunion was sweet and refreshing. “Ashes, do you know where Amy is?” Yes, it was silly to ask a cat that sort of thing, but it was even sillier to think your stuffed animals could be as jealous as your girlfriend. Ashes didn’t speak human tongue, but at least he was something animate and sentient. But instead of a verbal answer, the only thing Emily got was a wiggle from his tail. Though, while Ashes didn’t have anything to say, now when she stopped for a second, Emily could hear a distant noise… Like a rhythmic repetition. “It’s not my fault if she didn’t meet me at the entrance, right?” Emily asked Ashes, and thank goodness the silence didn’t mean no. After one last pet Emily rose to her feet and that sent Ashes pacing circles around her like a shark in the water. Though once she started moving, suddenly he had become her personal escort, taking to her side the whole trip down the hallway, venturing closer to the mysterious noise. She stopped short of a seemingly normal, inconspicuous door. But alas, if her personal secrets taught her anything, that meant anything seemingly normal could lead to the farthest things from it. So instead she knocked this time. “Amy?” Emily called as she knocked, waiting for an answer. Nothing, but the noise was certainly behind this door. She looked down at Ashes who was already looking up at her, giving the feline friend a “what gives?” kind of face. “It’s not my fault if she’s not gonna listen…! Amy!” Emily raised her voice, knocking louder again. And finally, something changed. The noise a second later had stopped, then finally she heard naked feet moving across the floor. Closer and closer…right until–! The door swung open and Emily reflexively took a step back, face to face with her person that she was supposed to meet. “Oh, Emily!” Amy blinked then smiled. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a pair of headphones resting around her neck. She smiled, but then frowned as her eyes looked like they were trying to see her own thoughts. “Wait…oh, wait,” she looked up and down, recalling where they were and where they were meeting right then. “Oh shoot! What time is it? Agh…! Sorry! Really sorry! I was supposed to be waiting for you downstairs!” “Uhm…it’s okay, I just…wasn’t sure if I should come up here or not.” “No, no!” Amy waved her off dismissively. “It’s good that you did. I usually listen to music while I work… Sorry I didn’t hear you knock at all. Uhm…” she pursed her lips as with her body taking up the doorway, she peered back into the room behind her. “Think you could give me a sec?” she gave an apologetic smile. “I’ve got uh…top secret stuff. Just lemme go hide it, kay?” “K…ay…?” Emily repeated, and her own awkwardness didn’t impact Amy’s delight. “Thanks! See Ashes already found you!” she laughed, then shut the door again. Both pets standing in the hallway exchanged another wordless look with each other. But turning on her shoe, Emily with her escort walked back down the hall. It may have been making use of an expired offer, but Emily sat down on Amy’s couch with a stiff posture, holding her hands on her knees while she waited. With enough space between her backside and the couch, it left ample room for Ashes like any other cat to make surgical and affectionate movements by creeping behind her just to sit on her right side. “Why do you like me so much…?” Emily wondered with a grin, petting the cat some more. At least with Joyce Emily could try and ask her questions, even if she didn’t always fully understand the answer. Maybe the magic in that mystery made it all seem unconditional. Fitting for a mommy, but perplexing for a cat she’d only met on a few occasions. An affinity for pets, perhaps? “Sorry, sorry!” Amy returned with the same energy Emily always seemed to know her for. She was short of her headphones and just in some loose pants and a long sleeve shirt. “Were you waiting long? Not just now, but like,” she twirled her finger in the air, “since you got here?” “No…not too long,” Emily shook her head. “Do you really keep all your doors unlocked though?” “No, not usually!” Amy pleaded for mercy as she excused herself to the kitchen. “I knew you were coming, so I left things unlocked just in case…” she explained over the noise of her fridge filling a glass with water. “I know, it’s bad. I’m scrambled enough to forget to keep track of the time, but reasonable enough to keep from having you locked out… So…?” She shifted her tone and hung her head over the window looking into both rooms. “How’ve ya been?” “I’ve been…good,” Emily answered, though in a very delicate manner. She was brave enough to have done what she did when she called Amy the first time, dressing in Joyce’s clothes, but she sure didn’t want to share it. In fact, it felt like there was a whole lot of her life that was just off limits to conversation topics now. Every talking point now somehow involved her in diapers with Joyce… Maybe if she just skirted some of the unnecessary details… “Hmm?” Amy hummed curiously, but kept a knowing look on her face. “Yeah? That’s good. How about Joyce? Has she been busy or are you two up to stuff regularly?” Stuff? What did she mean by stuff? Was she implying…? Or was it just a normal kind of “stuff?” “She’s been…good. U-us too, yeah. Yeah…” “Would it be easier if I talked about myself?” Amy politely asked, and as shameful as it was, Emily had an appreciative look. So right after laughing, Amy took the lead. “I always seem to be working on something! But it’s the good kind of busy. Lots of different things people want, so, you know, gets the creative juices flowing and stuff.” Emily found herself asking, “Do you take breaks?” “Sometimes!” Amy groaned with a stretch leaning from side to side. “I take the usual holidays off, but other times I might take an unscheduled sorta thing. Can’t say I go far though,” she pointed her finger right at Emily, or rather, the animal right next to her. “Got my hands full with that little guy.” Emily nodded, petting the cat again. “Thanks again so much for agreeing to help me out, by the way! Having the occasional assistant is a huge help for me,” and then she caught Emily right before she could interject, “--even if that assistant can’t sew!” “Yeah, of course,” Emily smiled, but the awkwardness didn’t subside. Does she even really need my help? This isn’t even a job-job…it’s just to keep me busy… Did Joyce ask her to do this? Was this all some big plan just to get me out of the house? “Oh!” Amy stammered, and Emily blinked back in surprise. “What’re you still doing with your jacket on?” She walked over immediately, beckoning with her hands as a sign for Emily to disrobe. “Be comfy, okay? Not like there’s a dress code, or anything…” and suddenly a second set of hands was taking the jacket off her, and Emily watched her deposit it on one of the few hooks still empty by the door. “Shoes too!” she barked without even needing to turn, and with a jolt Emily was already fidgeting with her laces. Apparently Amy put the “Fuck that!“ in formal. “Is this your lunch?” Amy was already picking the bag up off the floor. “W-wait, I can get that!” Emily reached for the bag, but she was too late. Maybe if she could’ve kept her mouth shut it wouldn’t have happened, but the urgency must have compelled Amy to look. She lifted the bag just a bit higher, softening her look once she saw it. “D’awh…!” Amy fawned at the seemingly normal paper bag, then kept leaning out just to see the look on poor bashful Emily’s face. “Did Joyce write this? Does she always do stuff like this?” “N-no…” It wasn’t even the right word, but for lack of a better one given how embarrassed Emily was suddenly feeling, Joyce had exacted her revenge on being denied a dedicated lunch box for her girl. “How else are we gonna know which lunch is yours?” Joyce said in a not so distant memory. “Guess we’ll know which is yours,” Amy chuckled, and Emily wanted to go back into hiding. On the front of her bag, illustrated in thick black marker was a large heart with Emily’s name, all in big capital letters scribbled right on it. Maybe I should have just turned the bag inside out… “Does it need to be refrigerated?” Amy asked as she was already taking it away. “Yes please… Only if you have the space…?” “Yes, I have the space! Emily, don’t be so stiff! Can I get you something to drink? Sit back on the couch some more!” “Sorry…” Emily muttered as she did as she was told and “got comfortable.” “Don’t apologize either,” Amy said as she shut the fridge door. “So how’d you get here?” “Joyce dropped me off… I feel bad because she’s going in late today because of me.” An alternative could have easily been worked out, especially just either from taking the train or a bus; something Emily in a pre-Joyce era wasn’t a stranger to. This wasn’t even considering being a burden to Joyce’s chauffeur. “Well I think she wouldn’t have if it would’ve actually been a problem, Emily,” Amy said as she forced a glass of water into Emily’s hands. And having an unfortunate track record with open cups on solfas, Emily was quick to stand up with her drink, wandering over to one of the bar stools. “You don’t work on weekends, do you?” Emily asked after sipping her water. “Mmm…well,” Amy’s eyes started to dramatically drift, “If it tends to be something fun, I can sort of be a slave to it… It’s kinda like a fifty-fifty.” “Is it okay for me to ask what you were working on in there?” Emily pointed past her shoulder and at the door just a little bit further down the hall. “Sure, you can ask,” Amy smiled, then smirked, “but that doesn’t mean I have to answer? Top secret is top secret, unfortunately. More importantly, it’s still a bit early, isn’t it? Did you have breakfast already?” she pulled back and turned in place, surveying her kitchen like it was her first time seeing it. “We…have…stuff. Mm, yeah. We have stuff if you’re hungry. Want anything?” “No, that’s fine,” Emily politely refused. “Uhm…Joyce already made me something.” “Oh yeah? Is she a good cook?” “Yeah, she’s honestly really good… She’s really amazing at everything she does, it feels like.” In spite of her flaws, those felt like the only pesky little technicalities that kept her girlfriend from seeming like genuine perfection. Maybe that was just the love talking, though. “Oh,” Amy suddenly scoffed, and Emily gave her a weird look. “Hm? Oh! No, definitely, Joyce is an awesome person. Buuut…” Amy started, then pursed her lips. “Actually, never mind!” Emily raised an eyebrow. “What? But what?” She was a gullible and innocent type of girl, hence why she could be baited so easily. Well, that may have been describing her to an extreme, but Joyce had certainly gaslighted her into being one. “Truth be told,” Amy laughed apologetically, “Joyce already gave me a preemptive talking to… Something about not telling you details about her.” “What? She didn’t!” Emily suddenly retorted, and her boss giggled. “She did, I swear!” Amy said, and while she didn’t know, the whole reason for the restriction was all in part to Emily’s curiosity and Sheila’s unexpectedly loose lips. “So sorry, nothing specific about the J-word.” “Really?” Emily asked again, but was already frowning. There wasn’t anything against Amy, of course, but it’d become yet another interaction filled with redactions by someone not even present to be censoring things live. “Really,” Amy confirmed, “really…ish.” “-ish?” Emily squinted just so she could read better in between the lines. “-ish as in: keep chatting me up and yeah I’ll probably let something slip,” Amy shrugged like it was something simply inevitable. Emily was certainly here to work and get things done, but she’d be lying if she said that Amy’s casual approach wasn’t comforting. All the same though, it was wearing down any sense of officiality that this got together may have had. Shifting topics, Emily asked, “So if I’m gonna help clean up, you mean your workshop downstairs?” “The workshop? Oh, the studio?” Amy clarified. “That sounds like a great idea, actually! Would it work for you if I showed you what you could sort downstairs, then I come back up here to finish some work?” “Top secret stuff?” “Super top secret,” Amy nodded affirmatively like her life depended on it. “Don’t worry though, once I finish up what I need to on an order, I’ll come down and work with ya. Makes it easier to chat that way. You can give me dirt on Joyce while you’re at it, too.” “You want me to give up secrets on Joyce?” “Of course! Just because I’m not supposed to talk about her, doesn’t mean you can’t? Unless…did she give you a gag order too?” “No, she didn’t,” Emily grinned, suddenly learning just all the mischief Amy seemed to have. “But actually, would you rather I waited to start…? I don’t wanna take your workspace from you.” Was it the reason why she was working out of a room in her apartment this morning? Because she planned on Emily coming over? “You’re not taking up my workspace, though?” The confusion wasn’t exclusive, but soon it was once Amy struck something inside her head. “Actually, guess I never told you or Joyce. Downstairs is kinda just the dressing-slash-studio area. I use that to let clients try their stuff on in-house where I can get feedback pretty quickly. Up here in my apartment is where I really get work done. Actually, we took your measurements downstairs that one time, didn’t me?” “Uh…yeah, we did…” Emily answered much more weakly once the memory hit her in full. It was the first time they had met and all three of them were in the back room. It was the same day Joyce wanted to run some “errands” and that was the last one of the day. Errands were all well and good, however what wasn’t was when Joyce was pushing the envelope on things. All she remembered about her clothes was that they were snug and one of her first dreaded diapers was hiding underneath… And just seeing Amy from across the kitchen window made her feel squeamish just remembering how close this woman was against her in one of her most vulnerable moments. Her padded rump contributed to those very numbers she’d been measuring and could have skewed her sizes… But they didn’t. They didn’t because she had worn something made by Amy before and it fit her perfectly. In other words, Amy knew about the diaper factor, and that was either because Joyce had told her or it was easy enough to determine that herself. Was it because of that day Amy had started to know? Or was it something else? Coincidence? Bad luck, or calculated plans? She was peppy, cheery and funny; all the things that made it so difficult to read any kind of ulterior thoughts and feelings. It made Emily want to ask, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. It was a double-edged sword. Just to satisfy the morbid curiosity she could learn to ignore, she’d be throwing the spotlight on something so touchy all over again. And when her back was turned, Emily gave Amy another judgmental look. This was the first time with each other alone and she was as lax as could be; like it was just another day with another friend. How could she just do that? Unbeknownst to Emily, Joyce often felt conflicted by the same exact things… “Ready to take a trip downstairs?” Amy asked. “Sure…oh, I can take care of that?” Emily reached for her own cup as Amy took it away. “Don’t worry, I’m closer, anyway!” “Okay… Thanks.” “No problem! If there’s anything you want, just let me know, okay? Or you can get it yourself, if you’re feeling brave,” Amy chuckled, and Emily smiled back. “Wait, what happens if someone comes to the store when you’re upstairs?” It was an important question as they were headed down the stairs. “Mmm, that shouldn’t happen. No one’s scheduled to come in earlier today. Just in case though, shoot me a text or give me a call, kay? I can take care of it from there. Either way, it shouldn’t come to that!” “Mhm…” and Emily hoped the same. She didn’t like the idea of dealing with people on day one, especially in a role that felt as formless as a block of untouched clay. Where was the training? The orientation? She really was just coming over to a friend’s house…except without all the experience as friends…and she was getting paid. How much, she had no idea, but nor was she planning on asking. Being paid to stay busy in general right now was technically what she’d been looking for, and given how pseudo supportive Joyce had been, it probably wouldn’t end well if Emily outright refused. Not that she wanted to. “Didn’t you say you needed me to try on some stuff for you?” Emily added as she watched Amy tidy up stray ends of her messes. “Yyyyes! Yes, I did. That’s actually what I’m gonna bring down later. Oh–” and Amy turned her head to follow something around the room, casting a scowl. “Don’t suppose you mind company?” “Hm?” Emily asked but was answered by a purring head rubbing against her again. “Ashes? S-sorry…” She apologized, and her four-pawed friend didn’t seem to mind much when she lifted him, gently holding his hanging body against hers. “I didn’t close the door; do you want me to bring him back up?” “Believe me, I love him, but he’s always playing with my fabrics! I swear, he does it just because he knows it bothers me…!” and Amy made sure to give her seemingly innocent pet a death stare. “But nah,” she smiled again, “he can stay down here since there’s no customers. If you get tired of him though, just lock him back upstairs. So, that means best behavior, got it?” Amy warned her cat, and all Ashes did was meow right back. With an understanding probably having been reached, Emily set the cat back down, leading him to quietly slip away, always hanging nearby and in sight. Amy’s gaze followed her pet with the same playful disdain she always seemed to have for him. “Y’know, maybe I can convince you two to babysit him just so I can go on a real vacation…” “Really?” Emily asked honestly, and Amy laughed. Amy chuckled, sounding like she wasn’t quite serious until Emily. “Yeah? I’m sure he’d be low maintenance around you two. Whenever Joyce comes by he always wants to play with her.” “Really? Does Joyce like pets?” It never quite crossed Emily’s mind. They didn’t talk about that much, if at all. “She seems like it…but, I don’t think she’s super keen on having one permanently.” “What’d she say?” “Mmm…I’m gonna leave it at that,” Amy deflected, looking like she was reminiscing on a sweet memory. “However! Joyce likes cute things. That’s your little factoid for the hour.” “So that means you’re gonna tell me more?” “That means my head is gonna be on a stake if I tell you too much. Gosh, you really don’t know how scary your girlfriend can be, you know?” “Yes I do!” Emily quipped back with a laugh. And going for a case and point, Emily started to say, “Like a few weeks ago, Joyce went to this investor thing, and she left the nurs–” and as fast as she fell into the story the realization hit her like a brick wall. Her eyes went wide and the panic was immediate. In her haste to contribute to the conversation and share a story she’d gone out on a limb she wasn’t supposed to. The room was quiet, and Emily was afraid to look at Amy head on. Did she notice what she was about to say, or was she just confused? Was it obvious that Emily messed up? Was she just going to let it go? “Yeah? What about your nursery?” The word was used and a sentence was finished, but it didn’t come from Emily. It didn’t come from Ashes, either. It came from the one other person privy not only to Emily’s diapers, but apparently her nursery now, too. If Amy didn’t know about it before, Emily clearly tipped off to it now. Emily balled her hand as she crookedly straightened out, glancing up at Amy who looked just as interested and curious like it was any other conversation topic. She wasn’t seething with judgment, strangeness or disgust. Just simple, transparent interest. Like any good listener would be. “Uh-uhm…nevermind…” Emily retreated with a quiet voice, but the attitude Amy had didn’t shift. “Okay,” Amy shrugged with a smile, acting like they’d just been talking about the weather, or something equally normal or socially acceptable. Did…did she even realize what she just said? She used the N-word! Nursery! Was that lingo for a workshop or something in the seamstress world, or did she actually know? She had to…she’s seen Emily in a diaper before…! “Want me to show you the best spots to start?” Amy didn’t skip a beat in asking the next question, moving on like they hadn’t hit a single bump. Carrying the conversation and keeping the rhythm as always. “Sure…” Emily agreed and followed her over to some shelves in the wall, now coming off as much more self-conscious. “So…it’s a lot of bits and bobs. Like,” Amy looked around the immediate space. “A lot. You can use these if you want,” she pulled out plastic drawer after drawer, showing and explaining where most stuff once was, and probably should still be. “And don’t worry about those high shelves…!” Amy groaned as she stretched on her toes, failing to reach as a live example. “I gotta get on a chair for those…” And another fun piece of information that Emily didn’t get to know: Joyce would kill Amy if Emily had to be in a high place… “So yeah? Just try to piece things out and maybe just sort what seems like they should go together. Anything’s better than what I have now, honestly.” “Uhm…okay, sure. Yeah, I can do that,” Emily nodded, and Amy smiled appreciatively. “Great! I’ll try to hurry up and finish upstairs so we can get started on some things down here. Remember: call me if you need me, and kick this guy out if he gets too annoying.” After one more nod, Emily let Amy leave, focusing herself on the mess Amy had left her to work on. “Oh, and Emily?” She turned her head, finding Amy crouched on the final step. “With everything I’ve done with Joyce, I don’t mind chatting about stuff like that?” And just in case there was room for misunderstanding, “Now you’ve got me all curious about the nursery!” she grinned and laughed. “Promise I’m good for venting, so if ya feel like it, chat away!” Then she left, and Emily stood by herself, feeling her anxieties stalking her from the high shelves out of reach. “How…” Emily whispered, “how can she just say it so easily…?” Talking was difficult. Very difficult. Good thing she didn’t have to do that now, though. The only conversation she had to have was one with Ashes, remembering to pet and pamper him and his fur every moment or so while she became engrossed in a therapeutic deep clean. Working for the woman holding second place in the diaper-spotting contest… And just as casual about it, apparently… “Thank you for moving my meetings up, Sheila…” Joyce dropped the passing remark as she walked by her employee’s station and into her office. “Of course, Ms. Summers,” Sheila answered on her tail with a bundle of papers in hand. “Do you want to hear what you have today?” “...Sure,” Joyce answered as she took her seat behind the desk. “There was an earlier brief this morning on adjusting the amount of volume we’re producing for ventilators… After that you were scheduled to take a look at a few internal reports, but that can be done at any point this week…” Sheila rambled and listed, but Joyce was already staring off in space. “Ms. Summers?” “H-hm?” Joyce’s head perked up and the finger leaning against her temple fell back on the polished wood. “Yes?” “Do you need me to repeat any of that?” “...No. A volume report, right? Just give me some advance before it’s time for that… Is there something I can do from my computer?” Work was stupid. Make no mistake, Joyce liked it, and sometimes even loved it. She absolutely did, but not as much as she loved Emily. She loved her so much that any new situation for her girlfriend was just secondhand shakes and worries for the supposedly dominant one in the relationship. Joyce could be fragile when Emily was, and at least to her attentive, snooping secretary the signs were just as obvious. “Is everything okay, Ms. Summers?” Sheila asked, but naturally a whirlwind of thoughts were going through her head. Not only for whether things were truly fine, but also what might be causing it… For starters, it wasn’t hard to imagine that coming in late today was part of the equation. “Everything’s fine, it’s just…” Just…nothing. “Nevermind.” There was no change in the look her secretary was giving her, but Joyce knew immediately she had already given her more than enough crumbs to work with. How was she supposed to hide secrets from someone she had to work so closely with? From the person responsible for managing her entire day? In order to separate Sheila from what she partially slipped herself into, it required Joyce to impede what was her very job. How ironic. How difficult. And in Sheila’s shoes, she was deep in thought. Crunching numbers and considering alternatives, but every simulation seemed to end in upsetting her boss… Sheila remembered their meeting after her night with Emily quite vividly. It was a clear sign she had crossed a line, both because she overstepped her bounds and her boss had already been pushing her in that direction. A mutual making of the circumstances, but it was what it was. And Sheila had been forthright and honest to a fault. There would be no more lies, no more secrets or absences of truth, and that started with confessing her interest and love for what happened with Emily. How much fun it was, how nostalgic. It was being just as honest when she also said that she didn’t quite understand why, or to what degree and what she liked particularly. It was shameful, but she wanted more. Another chance to experience what she had yet to fully grasp. It was a poor analogy, and a bit cheesy, but she needed more experience. More data? A conclusion couldn’t be reached quite yet, but she wanted another chance… So she looked at her boss quietly, wondering if something like that was even remotely possible anymore. “Okay,” Sheila nodded, letting it stay at that. “Should I bring you something to drink?” “Please.” And Sheila was gone. And Joyce was working, or at least trying to. Too busy thinking about Emily with a head stuffed full of worries, excitement and thoughts she couldn’t even begin to vent. Like many other times it was distracting, and even if she didn’t vent about it normally, just knowing she had to walk on eggshells around Sheila now was what made it that much more difficult. It was simply knowing that she couldn’t talk about it. But it was for the best… It was separating the spheres that mattered. It wasn’t fair to involve Sheila if Joyce was just going to get upset all over again… Lord, she hadn’t even told Emily the full extent yet… So distracting… So distracting… But as conflicted as she felt, it didn’t stop the passage of time. Like all plans though, most seemed to fall through. She had a chance to call Emily during lunch, but it wasn’t long. Of no fault of Sheila’s, but a shifted schedule meant less time to eat and less time to chat. Past the midday, however, what was peculiar was a phone call again from Emily, and so soon? “Emily?” Joyce answered the phone mid-walk down one of the halls of the building. “Hi Joyce…” “What?” Joyce was cradling the phone with both hands. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Yeah…” Emily murmured, sounding awfully reserved. “Uhm…can I ask you something?” “Of course you can?” “Can…can I wear a diaper?” 47 - Lunch “Pins should go…” One turn. Two turns. Negative half a turn, and she found the bin. “There.” Sifting through the little things was obviously the biggest problem. In trying to sort and clean through Amy’s workspace, it gave the clueless girl an awful lot of insight into the job of a seamstress, and possibly someone that just lacked organization. To the best of Emily’s knowledge Amy didn’t own a dog, but if she did, a rainbow-colored husky could have very well been the breed. Stringy strands of different colored thread were just about everywhere. God forbid her understanding of the craft was far too shallow, Emily stuck the miscellaneous of the miscellaneous in a different bin conveniently located right next to the waste basket. There were random buttons that seemed missing from a pair or set, but unlike socks at least they had enough individual character to possibly be deemed worthwhile. Hence why Emily had a separate tub just for that, too. After the initial mess was gone, to the untrained eye at a distance, you’d might think Amy’s display room was actually clean. Far from it, however, once you took a fine-toothed comb to it. Or specifically once you had Emily on her hands and knees looking underneath the couch. “How does this get down here…?” She looked down at a spool still thick with unused thread and added it to the rest of the pile. Accumulated messes meant over time the most bizarre things could wind up in the most random places. And as Emily walked around in her thin and flimsy socks, she was hoping dearly that with each logistical failure she found that Amy was at least professional enough to never leave a sewing needle out on the floor… Only halfway through the cleaning though did a simple yet strange thought pop into her head. When was the last time I saw a mess…? It was a broad question to ask with likely a thousand different ways to shoot it down, but thankfully in just the company of herself (and Ashes), she only had to deal with a biased critic. Just about nothing ever seemed to spiral out of control, as of late. When blankets, sheets and comforters got rustled, nine times out of ten Joyce had them straightened out at some point in the day. Emily helped too, but management seemed to be very strict about her doing much of anything other than recreational activities. Such as…playing with toys, or getting handsy with her mommy. But even the toys. Re-learning how to enjoy handheld things that weren’t electronic, or at least didn’t have a digital screen was embarrassingly a novel concept for the modern-age girl. She’d play with Pip, drag him around from one room to another in the apartment, sometimes bring a bottle with her too, but also forget it in other places. Sometimes she may have forgotten Pip too… Emily could leave small messes quite often, but Joyce moved like the wind in her wake to take care of it. And to repeat, it wasn’t like this for a lack of trying. Emily was discouraged from helping clean up. From cleaning up her toys, cleaning her own face, or…actually, on the topic of…not clean, even her own diapers… Maybe that was it? Joyce just liked cleaning? Did that explain why she wanted to be a mommy? And while Emily missed the mark on her thought exercise, she petted her assistant who had yet to contribute anything to the effort other than meows and demands for more affection. Who would ever want someone like that? Emily kept petting the cat anyways, possibly just so she didn’t read into the thought too much. “I wonder what her actual workshop room is like upstairs…” Emily mused, nearly straddling the top of the same couch Ashes was resting on. Then she stroked his fur some more, getting a tad bit distracted. “I wonder if we’d ever get a pet…?” Maybe. Maybe not. Emily wasn’t even sure how Joyce felt about pets, though if personal experience was any indication of anything, she sure was good at taking care of stuff… I wouldn’t want her being the only person who takes care of them, though… Case and point, Emily was certainly a good pet petter. A single finger for chin scratches could make Ashes pur like an engine. But maybe Joyce didn’t want a pet? After all, she essentially had one already. A bubbly, blushing, embarrassed pet that helped out on rare occasion. I’m not a pet… “Emily? You down there?” And she may have sprung off the furniture in a totally not cat-like fashion. “Y-yeah!” the startled employee called up to the banister. The wooden steps whispered tiny creaks and squeaks with each foot dropping by a level. Amy was hunched over, leaning her head into the room with pure awe and an open smile. “Woow! Look at this place!” her head kept turning until it finally ended on Emily with her hands sandwiched between her legs. “It’s almost like I never even touched it!” And while Emily smiled appreciatively, Amy had no qualms in laughing at her own expense. “You did such a great job!” Amy said it again, and it was another pleasant tickle for the girl. “Thank you…but uhm, I still need to organize a few more things…and I didn’t fully check over–” “Oh, that’s fine, it’s fine! You don’t need to do that now,” she shrugged it off. “I wasn’t keeping track of the time; it’s just about time for lunch, isn’t it? Wanna come upstairs and eat?” Was it really that time already? Sure enough, a glance at her phone was indicating a time just shy of noon. Time really did fly by… “Er…” Amy interrupted with an exaggerated worry, “Please come upstairs and eat?” Then her eyes darted around, looking for the bugs or plants that were assuredly listening in on their most secret of conversations. In a not so whisper she said, “Joyce said I should make sure you’re free soon to call her…” “O-oh,” Emily stammered back, remembering what Joyce had asked her to do earlier that morning. Call her during lunch. They talked about that in the car, so… “W-wait, Joyce told you that?” “You work for a very strict union, Emily! Now scooch!” Amy paced around surprise and shock personified and was the caboose kicking the locomotive into motion. Then like an afterthought, showing affectionate disinterest like her partner in crime did the same for her, she glanced back at Ashes. “Oh, and I suppose you’ve earned a break too, freeloader.” And after a dramatic stretch the cat hopped from its pedestal to the floor. “Do…do you always talk to him like that?” Emily half-stumbled up the steps, watching for the cat that assuredly followed. “Do I sound crazy?” Amy laughed as she brought up the rear. “It’s either that or I start talking to my mannequins, but at least Ashes is alive!” Then with reluctant honesty, each word from Emily was another step down the slope of decibels, flattening out into an almost muted whisper. “No, I mean…I…kind of do it…too…” “Hm? Oh yeah? Who’s your sound board?” “Huh? I guess it’d be…–! It’s Ashes! I mean, I was doing the same thing with Ashes…” Was it really lying if she bounced from one truth to another? Poor Pip. If only the world was ready for their relationship. It was on the straight and narrow from then on to the second story, watching the door ahead like nothing mattered. Just as Emily crossed the threshold a light brush on her back sent her through. “One chickling…” Amy sang, then hung by the doorway, waiting for the last soldier to scurry in, “Two…” Then with a soft click the door was closed. “Okay. Lunch time,” she clapped her hands and departed for the kitchen. “Oh, if you’d prefer to watch something while you eat, feel free to turn on the TV. After you call Joyce?” and Amy gave her the kind of look any expectant mother might. Thank goodness she was just an employer, though. And before the phone could touch Emily’s ear Ashes was meowing, ever so impatiently at his owner. “Shut it, I'm working on it!” the proprietor complained all the way to the pantry. One buzz… Two buzz– And not a third. Instead Emily had the misfortune of dialing the wrong number out of her contacts list. Rather than her mommy elsewhere in the city, sitting in her skyscraper office ready to eat right around the same time, it was instead a prim, prip and posh female fellow warmly receiving the other end of the line. “And to whom is this that I have the utmost pleasure of speaking with?” But alas, there was no danger afoot, as Emily was well-trained in the art of stranger danger. “Sorry, wrong number!” “Wait–” Too late. Bye-bye. “Wasn’t Joyce?” Amy asked on the trip back with a large bag of pet food in her arms. “Nope,” Emily shook her head and swung her legs off the bar stool. “It was.” “It was?” she cocked her head up over the pouring bag. “So then why’d you…?” Then Emily’s hands got the jitters, but not from nerves this time; technological vibrations. The phone had to have been cursed. There was simply no other explanation. Radioactive? Haunted? Those kinds of bomb defusals weren’t her wheelhouse, so with caution she held out the phone far away and made for a blind swipe with her finger on the screen. “Emily Sen!” A stern tone erupted from the speakers, and even without the mode in effect Amy had heard enough to laugh. “Emily, you didn’t!” Amy as a new spectator was equal parts shocked and amused, and having a supporter made the culprit grin sheepishly herself. “Joyce? Hello?” she choked down a laugh. “Did you just hang up on me, missy?” Joyce, a woman that when she sneezed wiped her nose with millions and could make the world move on a whim, had finally met her match; a tricksy little girl who thought herself apparently untouchable just because they weren’t in the same room. “NoOOo…” Emily exaggerated, just as poorly as Joyce did her impression. “Someone else picked up the phone!” “That so? Guess that means my voice must’ve been that good!” Certainly. If Joyce didn’t make it as an entrepreneur, at least by Emily’s story time standards she’d be a shoe-in as a voice actress. Come to think of it, Joyce would be great at a lot of different things… “Buut… Next time you hang up on me, you’re gonna make me sad. Understood?” “Gotcha,” Emily giggled, and her girlfriend was a bit toothy herself on the other end. “Are you on your lunch break now?” “Getting to the end of it, actually,” Joyce sighed, staring down her digital clock at the corner of her desk like it was evil incarnate. “Should I have called sooner?” “No, you called at just the right time,” Joyce opted for a not so honest answer. The last fifteen minutes had actually been spent drawing circles with her finger in her binder, hoping the stars would somehow align before time ran out, and thankfully they did. “So? How’s your first day?” “It’s been fine, but I can talk about that stuff at home. How’s your day?” “Boring,” Joyce flatly answered. And very busy. Who knew coming into work late meant a compressed schedule? “And yes, but you can also talk about it now?” Hiding her enthusiasm around Emily was a sport she was more than happy to lose at. “Soo, what have you been doing?” “Cleaning, sorta,” Emily shrugged, even if the gesture didn’t quite translate over the phone. “Amy said she was gonna have me help her with what she really needed later, so it’s probably gonna be after lunch. You know that room she took us to? Behind the front desk? She’s having me organize that.” “Well that’s nice of you to do!” Joyce beamed, and Emily as appreciative as she was, embarrassingly side-stepped the comment. “I mean, I guess, but she’s paying me…” “True,” Joyce admitted, “but still doesn’t mean I can’t be proud of you!” “Oh, and Ashes was downstairs with me too, so I had some company.” Very unhelpful company. “Well that’s nice; I think he plays favorites with Amy, though. She always says that he tries to give her the cold shoulder when someone he likes shows up,” she laughed, thinking of all the times he’d be nuzzled right against her leg, purring so sweetly. “He’s a nice cat, though,” Emily started to spin in her seat. “But really, is today just boring?” Her partner’s lips popped from the other end. “Unfortunately, it just is! More importantly though,” seemingly important, Joyce’s tone lowered an octave and the matronly might became heavy. “And Emily Sen, do not lie to me, understood?” Emily knew that voice. That horrible, worrywart-inducing voice. Instantly it was a moment of self-reflection. The girl’s mind raced from cabinet to cabinet inside her head, searching for the one, itty-bitty piece of incrimination; something she had done to warrant the scolding she was just about to get. But she couldn’t think of anything and the search was fruitless. What could she want? “Did you climb up on anything today?” And suddenly her big ball of panic popped like a balloon. “Joyce!” Emily whined, losing her composure with her back to the stage, leaving Amy to quietly watch with a speculating grin. “Wh-what are you talking about?!” “Is that your way of telling me you do?” “No! I didn’t!” she cried into the phone, cognizant enough to process the embarrassment, but not to remember who was listening in on her pout. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t!” “Oh yes it absolutely does. Emily, I said I didn’t want you climbing in the kitchen before, didn’t I?” “Y–!” she was about to agree, but for once she could see the tripwire lying in wait. “That…that was different! That was when I…” Finally, her memory kicked in and her audience was acknowledged. Her rage sputtered out into a quiet ember as she whispered into the phone, “I thought that was different…?” Hopefully it wasn’t vague enough, coupled with that the only real secret they ever tried to keep had to do with diapers. Joyce made rules during baby time, so seeing them flare up during grownup days was certainly alarming. “Emily, no.” And Joyce leaned out from her seat, looking for a silhouette that wasn’t there on the other side of her foggy glass door. It’d become an opportune moment so she rose from her chair, pacing around the office. “Rules like that are to keep you safe and from getting hurt. No diapers is no excuse to put yourself in dangerous situations. Do I make myself clear?” Were they really doing this now? Emily tried to stay inconspicuous, turning her head just slightly to see if Amy was hopefully distracted. She saw a phone in her hand and her eyes on it. Perfect! Amy was distracted. “Joyce…” she started up again, wary of her words, and jealous that by the sound of it Joyce didn’t have to be. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t need those kinds of rules when I’m like…this…” And it was the pushback. The tiny, itty-bitty retaliations that tickled Joyce so sweetly. Danger was danger and her fear was real, but discussions like these always made her giddy. How couldn’t mothers not love it when their kids throw a tantrum? The indignance, the back-talking, and rebellion. It was a chance for their kid to make their opposition clear, and by the same token it was the perfect moment for the parent to make a crushing, iron-willed teaching moment. “Emily?” Joyce’s voice was patient, but the expectation for a response was thick and heavy. And while she waited with her loving intensity, she peeked outside her office one last time, making sure there was absolute secrecy. And Emily, with her sixth sense finally active and detecting the shitstorm she just waltzed herself into, delicately slipped off the stool and nervously walked herself away to Amy’s couch. “Yes…?” It’s too fun getting to come up with this stuff… “Who wears the big girl pants?” Big girl…? And let it be Emily’s one and only allowed moment of weakness, but her eyes as if needing a second opinion other than her own sanity slowly glanced down at herself. “Me…?” “Nuh-uh. Try again.” “Us…both?” “Halfway there!” Joyce praised the answer, yet patronizingly beckoned for more. “Come on, sweetie, who?” “...You?” “Ah-huh, that’s right. Mommy wears the big girl pants, and that means Mommy makes the decisions. And because I do, you need to understand that I don’t make those decisions lightly, okay?” “Joyce…” Emily leaned from side to side, dearly hoping that Amy was really invested in something interesting on her phone… Emily in a hushed voice tried to rush the conversation along, “Can’t we talk about this later? I get it, okay? I understand…” And all she got in response was more syrup and sugar, making her feel smaller and smaller with each passing syllable. “I know you do, baby, but I also know that sometimes you need reminders?” Maybe she didn’t, but Joyce certainly needed recharges like this. Who was this really for? “But, okay, I think I’ve made my point. But Emily, who makes the rules?” Every question was like pulling a tooth, assuming the feeling was hardstuck and difficult, but erupted in a euphoric feeling. So probably not quite like pulling a tooth… “...You do…” “Mhm,” and by the tone of her hum, Emily could practically hear the solemn, motherly nod happening at the same time. “And who’s job is it to follow them?” “...Mine…” They were in separate rooms and separate buildings, but even that sense of distance didn’t seem to add any more slack to the emotional and mental harness Joyce had her strapped in. “Good. Very good!” Joyce beamed, then chuckled, as if the harbinger to announce that all was well and peppy again. “Okay, go eat your lunch now, alright? And make sure to have a good rest of your day!” If it was within the means of being a Mommy, Joyce was scarily adept at flipping her mood switches. Emily was still trying to come off the headspace she’d just been forced into, but was stable enough to close out the conversation. “Okay…” Emily exhaled quietly, “Mhm. You too.” “And Emily?” Oh no. More? “Yeah?” And then a quiet hum started, growing and growing in noise and joy as Joyce made a happy cheer. All courtesy of a private office on an executive floor. “Mommy loves you soooo much!” “J-Joyce, are you actually at work?” Emily couldn’t hide the concern given how liberal her partner was being. Was there really no one around to hear this? And all Joyce did was laugh. “Yes, would you believe it, I am! Now I’ll say it again since you didn’t say anything back; Mommy loves you!” And just like the first, Emily was glad she was sitting to hear it. The mantra made her legs weak with joy. To consider how warped she was to be so happy over such a little thing had a hand to her head like she was ready to catch the loose parts ready to fall out of her ear. “I love you too…” “Mwah!” Joyce kissed into the speaker. “Bye-bye!” And they hung up. It was like returning to another dimension once she put down the phone. Emily looked around the open apartment like she’d forgotten where she was. Another second gave her time to remember that it wasn’t her home. She was working, with Amy, and it was time for lunch. The atmosphere was cooling down and she had a look to keep up. A persona to maintain. Something with a semblance of maturity and composure just long enough until Joyce came and picked her…– “Emily?” Amy made a small wave from the kitchen. “Still want lunch?” “Y-yes, please,” and Emily with a half-broken mind was back on her feet and rushing over. “Sorry about that…” “Sorry about what?” Amy chuckled and motioned for Emily to sit. “Thank goodness you called Joyce; she probably would’ve thought that I was slave-driving you, or something. You really have no clue how scary she can be–!” then with a self-disgusted gasp Amy clamped down on her own mouth. “See!?” she giggled, setting Emily’s bagged lunch down. “I told you stuff like that was gonna slip! And I hereby use my unlimited ‘Please don’t tell her I said that’ pass for the first time!” “Okay, okay, sure,” Emily laughed right back and finally went into her lunch. “So, she make you anything good?” “Don’t know,” didn’t know what it was, but knew it’d probably be good, “she made it early this morning so I didn’t get to see.” “Gosh, she keeps everything a secret, doesn’t she?” and Amy watched for the reveal, perching her chin on her knuckles. Until the secret was no more. Before her was a hearty spread. A ripe banana, a cup of yogurt, sandwich, and a thermos. Though, when she wrapped her digits around the metal it didn’t feel warm. A drink? “Oh wow, that looks good, huh?” Amy remarked as she turned away. “Here, lemme get you a plate to eat that on…” “That’s fine, you don’t need to…” Emily insisted as she shuffled her lunch around, finding even a small stack of complimentary napkins as well. On top of a plastic spoon, Joyce really did think of everything… “Emily, quit being such a stranger!” Amy chuckled with a firm quip, and dishware clattered until a wide black saucer was placed in front of the girl. “And also, keeps crumbs off the counter.” Finally though she bit the bullet and ceased her complaining. “Thank you,” Emily settled and set her food on a new foundation. “I’ll make sure to wash it when I’m done.” “And you shall do no such thing,” Amy’s eyes rolled with a smirk. “Either I’m gonna clean it, or my dishwasher will, and you are neither of those things,” she enunciated with a fat finger. “You’re gonna eat, enjoy yourself, chat with me a little, then we’re gonna go downstairs, work some more, and chit-chat the whole time. Do I make myself clear?” The talking-to was swift and unexpected, leaving Emily in a daze that felt eerily nostalgic from just minutes prior. For a moment she was back to being in an obedient and attentive place, but only after Amy cocked her head did Emily snap out of it. “O-okay, yeah… Thank you,” Emily finally accepted with a smile, then slightly sunk her head while she fumbled with the top of the cyan thermos. “Good,” Amy didn’t seem deterred, then made the short trip back to the island where her food was. “So was Joyce on lunch too?” “Yeah, I think so,” the girl with her dedicated sandwich container said as she pried off the lid. “I think she was busy, though…all because she took me here today.” “Well if she is, I highly doubt she’d be surprised,” Amy shrugged. “She knew what she was getting into, Emily. Obviously you matter more than a tighter schedule?” It felt awfully narcissistic to agree to a comment about herself, so Emily didn’t say much of anything to that. Instead she was reflecting on all the ways she’d been a bother today. Making Joyce get up earlier than usual just to make her lunch, making her even more busy at work just to drive her around, and effectively killing whatever attempt Amy made at trying to be friendly simply because she couldn’t disassociate from all the baby brain Joyce was infecting her with. “Amy? Uhm…sorry, by the way…” “Sorry for what?” Here she was, apologizing for something she couldn’t even put into exact words. And yet, Amy undoubtedly knew it, and obviously Emily too, and yet the girl had hardly the courage or want to mention any of it in specifics. “Just being…” her hands had fallen into her lap where her thumbs could mingle. “Reserved, and stuff? I’m just…” she sighed, “I’m being weird.” “Yeah, you are,” Amy agreed, shoving Ashes off the counter and from her food at the same time. Cue the annoyed meow, and promptly ignored. “But it’s not like I wasn’t expecting that,” she chuckled. “Emily, I’m not gonna force you to talk about anything, but it’s the baby stuff, right?” Again, her words were like ripping off a bandage, and to that point Emily nearly flinched. But slowly, she nodded remorsefully. “I just want you to know it’s not like a taboo or anything, with me. If you’d like though I could be honest with you. Joyce pays for it, but I’m still kind of your seamstress, and all…” She let that sink in, staring Emily in the eyes, then sinking down to her lower half hiding on the other side of the counter. “Emily, need I remind you that the day we met I was taking your measurements when you were in a diaper?” And what was thought to be a national secret was apparently public information. Emily’s eyes were as wide as her plate with a frightened gasp. “Y-you knew?!” “Your clothes fit, don’t they?” And Amy watched with a hand on the counter as Emily couldn’t keep her mouth closed, slowly slipping out of reality. She knew that Amy knew about the diapers. It was obvious. She could have found out a million different ways, and yet…but…! “Emily, you-houu? Hey?” A pat on the shoulder was what roped the girl back in. “I know about the diapers. I know about the clothes, because hey, I made them? The nursery,” possibly because somebody admitted to it… “and how much Joyce cares about you, too. I’m not saying this stuff to hold anything over your head, hon, but I’m trying to make a point that there’s no real secret between us?” “B-but…” But what? But nothing! She knew. Obviously. Of course. The reserved attitude, the anxiousness, all of it today had just been formality, especially with how forthcoming Amy had been. She was standing at the halfway point since the day started, patiently waiting for Emily to finally open up about what she already had an understanding of. It was just being polite and maintaining formality. “Look, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Amy stood back with her hands still glued on the marble top, smiling warmly. Friends? Wasn’t she friends with Joyce, though? Kids weren’t friends with their mommy’s…– Lord, how bad was Emily? More aptly, wasn’t it weird to be friends with your girlfriend’s commissioned seamstress? Sure, maybe, but wasn’t it also weird for them to know about the diapers you wore, the nursery you had, and all the big baby clothes you needed too? Absolutely. Relatively speaking, friendship was the lowest in the pecking order. By monumental magnitudes. “No?” Amy grinned, letting enough silence go by. “We’re not?” “We are!” Emily stammered, then quickly settled herself back in. “I just…how can you talk about it so easily?” “Because I am who I am?” Amy gave another clueless shrug. “Emily, I love making clothes for you. The cute ones, specifically,” she pointedly corrected. “If you asked me why, all I’d say is because I like cute things? I don’t know? Making them for an adult is just a…really cute juxtaposition,” she pinched her chin while she thought about it. “Point is, I like it, and that’s all there is to it. You wear diapers,” and Emily really did flinch that time, “and that’s also all there is to it, too? There’s a reason, I’m sure, but I don’t care, and you don’t need to either. I hope that I’ve made it clear already, but just so there’s no misunderstandings: Emily, you’re into baby stuff and that’s fine. I am too. So let’s not put up any walls around us because you’re nervous about spilling any secrets, okay? So who is it you talk to other than Ashes? Who, a stuffed animal?” “N-no!” “Ah! See?” Amy accused her with a finger, “No lying,” with a playful finger she sliced her own neck. “Who is it?” And finally with her back against a wall, Emily bit her lip and made a nervous leap of faith. “...P…Pip. It’s Pip.” It was supposed to be a gateway into a relaxed discussion, yet Amy drilled further like it was an interrogation. “What animal are they? Do they stay at home?” “He’s…not an animal. He’s stuffed mochi. And yes, he stays at home.” “Mhm?” Amy nodded attentively. “Wait,”she had a double take, “Mochi? What’s that?” “It’s like a dessert, so it’s not really an animal…” “Do you play with him?” “Not…not completely…” “But a little?” “No, not a little.” “Not a lot?” “No, not a lot.” Emily shook her head skeptically. Didn’t they start with that? “Well what do you do with him?” “I dunno? I just…bring him into other rooms, and stuff.” Why did she even want to know? “Here,” and in the midst of the questionnaire, Amy had Emily’s yogurt in her hand, peeling off the foily top. “Have that while we talk.” And Emily, the demure and domesticated, actually accepted it. “So you take him with you around the house? That sounds like playing to me?” “How? I just…use him like a pillow, and stuff.” “So cuddles?” Amy clarified, like she was about to pull out a dictionary. “Sorry, Em,” she gave her a hopeless look, “sounds like playing to me.” “Wh-what does it matter if I play with him, or not?” “That’s the whole point,” Amy frowned right before grinning, “it doesn’t.” It didn’t matter who or what Emily played with. It didn’t matter what she did, what she wore or how she acted. Amy was clear from the start that she didn’t care to the point of foregoing all judgment completely. She made it clear that she was interested and willing to bounce back on any kind of conversation, as long as Emily was brave enough to pull out what Amy already knew. So many obstacles and so many gymnastics over a pointless chase. “Emily,” Amy sighed with a hand against the nearby beam, “you’re kinda putting me on the spot here? Can’t I just chat with my friend, or am I gonna have to be bored and keep to myself all day?” Then she turned the pressure up just a little more. “Still wanna know about the nursery…!” Amy sang, and Emily was either on the brink of shutting down or blowing up completely. She needed a heaping helping of yogurt to deliberate. “That strawberry?” Amy peered over the chunks of red hiding in the creamy white. “Yeah…think so…” Emily murmured from her seat. It was their constant sidesteps and casual shifts into much tamer topics that kept throwing the girl off. She couldn’t code switch like Amy could. Amy was a sewing machine, rapidly and vigorously tying together all topics entirely; until there was no more distinction and separation between casual and confidential. The entire day was just a melting pot of emotions and ideas. Casual was exactly that, even if it meant the weather or Emily’s latest punishment. She swallowed her treat, and Amy was already fussing with removing a banana from its peel. “Do…do you really wanna know?” But first, with a naked fruit in her hand, Amy asked, “Want me to cut this up?” Damn it. Another juggle in topics. Every swap was like a lossy translation. Every switch meant some kind of steam was lost. She had to be secretive and guarded, but not when it came to things as mundane as her own lunch. She couldn’t keep going from sharp to dull without slowly averaging out in between. What kind of mind games was this woman playing? “N-no…” “Okay,” and the woman took the trash with her. “And yeah, Emily, I’ve asked like twice now! Tell me what’s up! Or don’t? But if you don’t then we’re gonna need to find something else to talk about because I don’t wanna just hear my voice all day.” More yogurt was consumed and so was some of her banana. Perfectly ripe. Soft, but not too soft and with just the right amount of firmness… Joyce probably wasn’t that methodical, but even in times like these Emily couldn’t help but think about her. This was her chance, wasn’t it? Someone to talk to? To vent? Joyce was always her number one confidant, but even with her, especially with how intimate they were– with this, she for lack of a better explanation was too close to the crime… “Well it’s…it’s not even that big of a deal…” “Ugh, perfect then!” Amy slapped her counter, “that means you can tell me! The more you make me wait, the more curious I get! Right, Ashes?” Amy barked at her pet with a sharp pivot on her neck, and on command with impeccable comedic timing, the cat meowed right back. “Oh! He actually meowed!” Amy laughed in a moment of self-surprise. “But I swear, I’m not a crazy cat lady or anything!” Even Emily in her mental muck, stuck at a crossroads found it in herself to smile and even giggle. Her toes were anxiously pressing against the wooden panel underneath the counter and her bare elbows hung off the edge, but all those adrenaline-fueled sensations were starting to drop as the tempo relaxed and her guard was being disarmed. So she wiped the corner of her mouth and finally and truly surrendered herself. “...So do you remember how I mentioned about Joyce going to an investor thing…?” “Yes,” Amy nodded attentively, but didn’t spare another second in interrupting. “Actually, wait!” she held out a stopping finger. “Let me make some coffee real quick?” And like a cold splash of water Emily was halted on the tracks. “Oh, uh, sure. Actually…could I have some too?” “Yyyes…” Amy answered half-heartedly, obviously with her head in a different place, and her eyes on something else. “What’d Joyce pack you in that thermos?” Emily looked over at the blue metal tube, “Oh right, I forgot…” and she fumbled with the cap and unscrewed the top. It was hard to see, but it certainly wasn’t anything hot. “Want a cup?” Amy, a lot like Joyce, seemed to shoot while she asked her questions. “Thanks,” Emily accepted the glass which became the perfect moment for Amy to take the thermos for herself. “Think it’s wine?” Amy tried to tempt her with an excited look, and Emily gave her a skeptical smirk. “Yeah,” she dropped the suspense, “probably not…” And out poured into Emily’s cup a familiar amber substance. Juice. Apple, to be specific. “Apple juice, too?” Amy sounded nothing but impressed. “Jeez, she really does treat you like a royal, huh?” and so did she by screwing the cap back on for Emily. “Alrighty, actually, just chat with me anyways while I make my stuff. I’m listening!” Apple juice, yogurt, a banana, and a sandwich. A spread fit only for the most kingly of kings, or princy of princesses. While she balanced her intake of all the different sides of her meal, Emily finally opened back up. “So you remember the event I mentioned?” “Yeah, the one Joyce went to?” “Mhm. So it was an overnight thing and she had to take a plane early in the morning. And when we…” the first roadblock was always the hardest because it meant covering new ground. “Whenever we…do our thing, the nursery is open… So when we aren’t, Joyce keeps it locked…” As honest as she was being, her voice and volume were hardly up for the challenge. And yet Amy seemed to be hearing it all without issue. “Do you guys have like a key for it?” Amy asked over the noise of her squirbling coffee machine. “Yeah, but Joyce has it, and as far as I know there’s only one…” Maybe they had two, but Emily didn’t even know where Joyce kept the first. On her person at all times? It was bad timing, but a small, mischievous activity was suddenly coming to mind. Now she had a small scavenger hunt she could try and do someday… “That’s a good idea, though. To keep people from accidentally walking in, and everything,” Amy openly thought. “Yeah,” Emily nodded, though she could imagine a few more reasons why she had a key for it… “But anyway, I think she was in a big rush that morning, because she forgot to lock it.” “Oh!” Amy gasped, despite hardly knowing the gravity. But she wasn’t ignorant to storytelling, which is why she kept looking back excitedly from her coffee pour. “So did you go in? Do you guys have a rule about that sort of thing?” “W-well…” Emily was certainly good at following rules. Even as a kid, barring her occasional upsets that was fair to expect from any typical child, held them in high regard. She understood the concept of cause and effect; consequences. Breaking rules begets punishments. Simple as that. “Since it was just gonna be me there the whole day…” Why was she looking away? Why were her eyes off to the side? “I may have gone in…” “Emily!” Amy gasped again, and the sound of surprise was almost paralyzing. It sounded like round two with Joyce all over again, except with a totally different vibe. The disappointment and disapproval was all there, but unlike Joyce’s cool, tough and teasing love approach, Amy’s was lush and uncut. She sounded like an actual…you know. Like little Emily, the sweetest girl she’d known for the toddler’s entire life had just committed a crime so severe, sitting so far above whatever standard or expectation she held her to. “I-it wasn’t even that bad!” Emily cried and an instinctual switch put her on the defensive. “I-I went in because no one would know!” It was round two all over again, as if Amy were Emily’s second shot at making a plea to a case that had already been solved and shut. “Yeah, but I’m guessing she did?” Amy raised an eyebrow, and all it took was the guilty look starting to show for the woman with a mug a coffee to laugh again, shaking her head. “What’d you even go in there for if you’re not supposed to?” “Just for clothes! Those pajamas you made me!” “One of the onesies?” “No, the footie ones!” “Ahh! So you guys keep that stuff in there?” she brought a hand to her chest, “I’m touched!” “I think it’s the only clothing we keep in there…” Emily propped up her head on a knuckle, chewing her bite of sandwich. “It was just a lazy day and Joyce made the mistake, not me! I just wanted to wear something soft!” “Yeah, but it was supposed to be locked up, right?” “Yes!” Emily threw out her hands at the sign of a growing comradery. Great! So Amy was seeing it too! “So you knew you weren’t supposed to be in there?” And suddenly the spark had fizzled and Emily’s mouth was sagging by the corners. Meanwhile, Amy was giving her an expectant look. “But she left it unlocked…” the girl tried her line of reasoning again, like the result would somehow be any different. “Yeah, but it sounds like you knew it wasn’t intentional,” Amy chuckled. “All I’m hearing is that you broke the rules?” “Maybe, but doesn’t Joyce get in trouble for making a mistake too?” “Ahp!” Amy caught her like Ashes swiped her tongue. “That’s different, though! She made a mistake and you made the choice to do what you did! Gotta say, Em, didn’t think you had that kinda mischief in you…!” “Yeah well,” Emily puffed out her cheek, “Guess I’ve been getting it from somebody.” And the side remark had Amy in stitches, giggling before and after a sip from her mug. The she asked the million dollar question, “So she obviously found out, right?” And like it was admitting to a stain on her flawless record, after crossing her legs, un-crossing, then finishing the rest of her yogurt, Emily muttered without eye contact, “Yes…she found out.” “Well now I gotta ask how? Does she memorize the way she organizes them, or something?” God forbid, Emily had yet to test the waters like that. If Joyce really was that superhuman then there really would be no secrets to guard from her. No, instead, Joyce as deductive as she was had actually been thrown a very obvious bone by a very clumsy criminal. “No…I…took it off at one point because someone came over and didn’t want them to see me like that… So I…left it under the bed in the room Joyce and I sleep in.” “What?” Amy pulled back her head, “Emily, no!” She couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s like borrowing rule number one! Put it back where you found it!” “She found it under the bed,” and Emily sighed, remembering the consequences that eventually led to her wetting the bed, including her pajamas, “and she wasn’t happy…” “Learned your lesson, I take it?” The implication of a punishment was clear even without directly asking. A solemn nod came back. “Mm. Well, then for both our sakes, let’s not do anything to get you in trouble, huh? Or I guess me, for that matter… Almost done with your lunch?” “Yeah, and thanks for helping me get it together…” “Yeah, of course! It’s nice getting to help every now and then. Oh, actually, do you mind if I ask a kinda personal question? Just cuz it’s related to the clothes, and all.” “Uh, yeah…sure? What is it?” How personal could it be? Emily just got finished explaining the whole nursery debacle and practically felt secondhand scolded because of it. “When you wore those pajamas, were you in a diaper?” Bold and unashamed. There was hardly a cloud in Amy’s mind when she asked, and Emily as per usual was taken aback. “Uh…no…” “Mhm,” Amy nodded appreciatively, taking down internal R&D notes. “Just wanted to know how the fit felt without them. Any reason why ya didn’t?” “It fit fine, but…” But what? Was it truly fine to tell Amy whatever she wanted? “We…sort of have a rule about…diapers…” “Uh-oh, you didn’t go breaking another one, did you?” Amy looked as if she feared for the worst while she nursed the edge of her coffee mug. “Ah, don’t forget about that juice, by the way,” she quietly pointed out the cup that still needed some draining. “No, not this time.” Probably because I can’t even imagine how severe the punishment for it would be… Emily paused to finish her cup of juice. “I’m not…uh…” her fingers started weaving, “I’m not allowed to put on my own diapers…” And instead of an awkward noise, an offhand comment or general disgust, all Amy did was, “Ahh…” and she nodded. “Yeah, Joyce kinda sounds like a real Mama bear. I’d be wary if I were in your shoes, too… So uhm…actually…how does that rule work?” How does it work? “I mean…it’s just that I can’t put on a diaper…Joyce said she wants to…be in charge of that stuff.” Not like Emily was looking to assume any of that responsibility, though. “So even if you asked, Joyce wouldn’t let you put on one?” “No…probably not.” And Amy quietly nodded, though for once she wasn’t immediate with a follow up. Like she was thinking. “Well, uhm, hey, how about we clean up here and move downstairs?” Amy clapped her hands together. “Thanks for being so open with me, but the way,” and she stepped beyond the barrier again by patting Emily on the shoulder. “It’s fun getting to hear stories from you, you know! I take it that you’ve got more for me?” And in spite of the subject material, Emily’s smile was slowly starting to come back. “If…if you just let me think a little?” “I think I can manage that,” she agreed herself with a serious nod. “And also, Emily? You’ll do what you think is the smart decision, but please,” she leaned in closer, “don’t break too many rules? I still need Joyce leaving you in one piece if you’re gonna come over and help me out…!” And all it took was that to get both women laughing. A tense lunch had dissolved and become something far more freeform than Emily could have ever imagined. With far less restraint she somehow managed to actually talk about her own experiences. She opened up for once! She got to complain and vent about something so bizarre, and yet Amy listened wholeheartedly, even if she seemed to be a little more in Joyce’s camp… But with no other way to describe it, just having someone like Amy…who knew it could have felt this…good? “Oh, I can get that, honey,” Amy assured her by taking the empty plate out of her hand. “By the way, don’t forget to bring your juice downstairs!” And obediently, Emily took the thermos and dropped down to her feet without a comment. After rinsing her hands she was the first one headed for the stairs, giggling a small bit once Ashes was fast to find her and join the carpool. Hanging out with Amy isn’t all that bad…?

Why do I get the feeling that you want to see poor little Kimmy get into trouble? Part 7I held on to the leg of April's pants, feeling very unsure of myself in these unfamiliar surroundings. The counter was chest-high to the Amazons, so it was far, far above my head. I couldn't see the person April was talking to, but she sounded younger."No, no allergies, any standard snack food should be fine," I heard April answering the girl's questions."What Little range is she?" the girls voice came from high above."Kimmy is about 10 months, maybe 11 - but her brain development is higher than average, and I'd like to keep it that way."Ten months? I didn't like the sound of that at all. They considered me less developed than a one-year old child? No wonder there was the insistence for blended foods. There had to be a way I could get April to promote me to something with a little more maturity!"Does she have her own pacifier?""She has a Silencer pacifier and she's used to it. Three pumps is perfect, only two and she can still spit it out, but four hurts her mouth."I looked through the clear plastic gate into the daycare area beyond. The place was brightly lit and brightly colored, there were lots of drawings stuck to the walls all over the place. There was some really high quality, cheery music playing from speakers in the ceiling, but that wasn't too surprising given that we were at a recording studio. I saw a line of cribs against the back wall, and a pile of huge blocks. It was hard to make out much else from my current angle but I wasn't about to press myself to the gate. Even if the blocks looked like they might be fun, I still didn't want to go in there. I looked up at April and sucked on the pacifier."Is she prone to dehydration?""Oh yes, she needs a full bottle at least four times a day. I've only given her one so far today, she should definitely have one with lunch.""She's on the cusp... does she walk well?""No problems there, little Kimmy walks just fine.""Any preferred or prohibited punishments?""Kimmy is afraid of robots, it seems - so the less robot interaction, the better. Generally the pacifier is enough to curb bad behavior with her if you get to her quickly enough," April continued. It felt really strange to have my "behavior" discussed while I stood right there, but a "perfect Little" wouldn't chime in here and that was still my goal, "Time outs are fine, spanking should be a last resort. Absolutely no permanent changes, no hypnosis, and no modifications." At this, I held on to April's leg tightly, now I really didn't want to go in there - a daycare normally had the right to make a permanent change to a Little? The idea was terrifying."Okay, I think we're all set - we close at 5 so please pick her up before then. Is there anything else we need to know?""Oh, one thing - keep her away from the Littles' Chocolate. I'd like to keep that in reserve as a big treat, don't want her to get too spoiled here."My mouth hung open and the pacifier fell out. I felt completely robbed! They had the chocolate and April said I couldn't have any? I put the paci back in and frowned, wondering if there was any way I could get a hold of some anyway. The clear gate swung open and a young girl in her early twenties leaned down and beckoned me in. She had a bright smile and pink streaks in her black hair. She wore the daycare uniform, a dark blue polo-type shirt and a pair of khakis."Hi Kimmy, I'm Miss Michelle. I'm one of the teachers here at LittleGarden. Would you like to come in and play with us?" I hesitated, and she looked up at April while still crouching down to my level, "Has she ever been to a daycare before?""No, I've only had her for a couple of weeks, she's new," April answered softly, gently pushing me towards Miss Michelle.. which only made me cling tighter."Come on in, Kimmy - we're going to have so much fun! I promise your mommy will be back for you when she's done. But you and me? We're going to be such good friends! What do you like better? Slides or blocks?"I steeled my nerves and stepped toward Miss Michelle, keeping a hand on April's leg but trying very hard to be the "perfect Little" for April. I took another small step and pondered how April would want me to respond. I let the pacifier fall from my mouth and said quietly, "Slide please."I looked up at April for approval, she had the biggest smile on her face... but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She looked proud though, I was glad I didn't go with the full 'May I please try the slide'. They thought I was 10 months old, so I guess I'd play to that, it seemed like the best way to stay safe while April was away. Miss Michelle held out her hand, which I took.. her touch was gentle and her fingernails were painted a shiny metallic blue, which made me smile."Oh Kimmy, we have the best slide, it's over this way. But first we have to take off our shoes and wash our hands, those are part of the rules."I followed Miss Michelle into the play area and heard the plastic gate close behind me and then lock with a loud "ka-chunk". I looked back to see April walking away and I felt panic rising in my chest. April was the only one who really looked out for me so far. Anything could happen now that she was gone. I felt Miss Michelle guiding me to a sitting position where she unbuckled my shoes and handed them to me."Can you be a great helper and put those over in the shoe rack?"I nodded, focusing in on the simple task and trying to quell my fear. I walked over to the giant red plastic set of cubbies and put my white velcro shoes in them. I heard Miss Michelle clap behind me."Oh you are a great helper, Kimmy," I felt her stick something to my back and she guided me to a Little-sized sink where I washed my hands. "Let's go find that slide, then we'll meet Miss Rachael and our new friends."She kept a hand on my back between my shoulders as she led me deeper into the play area, I looked around as I let her guide me. They had an eating area with Little sized tables and chairs and a line of highchairs along the wall, a small kitchen to go with it. They had several large playpens, huge plastic building blocks, a corner full of giant stuffed animals, and a shelf with lots of large plastic cars and similar toys. There was a changing area in the corner that looked like it was run by a humanoid robot, but the robot didn't have legs, it was on a four-wheeled platform. I didn't consider myself afraid of robots like April said, but I really didn't want to get changed by that thing. There looked to be about 20 or so Littles here, a few already confined to the playpens or cribs, and only 2 Amazons supervising. The other Amazon, Rachael, was significantly older than Miss Michelle, she was guiding a group of Littles through some kind of crafting activity.. but she wasn't smiling. Miss Michelle led me to some carpeted stairs that led up to a huge twisting slide that was half again taller than the Amazons, this slide was enormous! The bottom of it opened into a small ball pit. I stared up at the towering slide, it was actually a little intimidating.Miss Michelle nudged me toward the stairs, "Go on, Kimmy - I have to go help Miss Rachael, be a good girl and play nicely with the other Littles."A Little boy came careening from the open mouth of the slide as she walked away and landed in the ballpit, he let out a big laugh as he climbed out. He actually seemed reasonably happy. I wondered if he really liked it or if he was faking. He pushed past me to climb the stairs again without saying a word. I saw that he had a sticker on his back that read "Brad" as he climbed up to slide again. Really, I just wanted to find a corner to sit down in and wait for April to come and save me, but she had said in no uncertain terms that the best way to be safe was to appear to enjoy being Little in the way the Amazons expected. So I climbed to the top of the stairs after Brad and looked out on the daycare. The place was huge, thousands of square feet easily. From here I could see over the gate and out into the music studio. I looked around and spotted the fridge, I made a mental note of it. I doubted I'd actually get my hands on the Littles' Chocolate, but I'd have an eye out for if the opportunity presented itself."Take your turn!" a woman's voice came from behind me. I looked back and saw a Little, bigger than me, waiting impatiently behind me. She had short-cut black hair and she was wearing a denim jumper over a pink shirt, with a pacifier clipped to her pocket. The sight would have been absolutely laughable back home, but here I actually found her intimidating. I stared at the gaping maw of the slide, it was easily fifteen feet up in the air and it looked like it would go fast. I sat down cautiously in the slide and pushed off... the world rushed past me as I slid, looping around and after a few moments, landing on my back in the ball pit at the bottom. I laughed a little despite myself, and started to crawl out of the pit... when the woman smashed into me from behind, sending me head first into a shelf. Toys clattered to the ground all around me and I held my head, it really hurt."Ow! Son of a bitch, that hurts! Shit!" I cursed, holding my head, checking to see if I was bleeding.The room fell deathly silent and I felt myself hoisted into the air by my armpits. I found myself face-to-face with Rachael, her brown hair pulled into a severe bun, paint stains on her uniform shirt and a scowl on her face."Michelle, Little Sadie needs another time out for playing rough, make it 90 minutes this time. I need to deal with," she paused a moment, turning me around to look at my back, "Kimmy here."I gulped, a rock of dread forming in the pit of my stomach, "Miss Rachael, I got an owie," I said softly, hoping I could make up for the words I wasn't supposed to say with the words that I was."I saw that, Kimmy, but Littles are NOT allowed to talk the way you did, even if you are hurt," she said curtly as she shifted me to her hip and carried me over to the counter, "Let's check your punishment list. You need to learn that those words just aren't welcome here." She tapped some keys on the computer with her free hand and she supported my diapered rear with the other... and just then I felt the urge to go. Before I could even stop myself, I peed into the already damp diaper, warming Rachael's hand. She frowned, "Littles. It looks like it's your very first trip here, Kimmy so I'm going to go easy on you. It says here you need a bottle, and I can feel that you need a change, so we're just going to have the RoboNanny take care of both of those for us.""Please no!" I heard myself cry out. I covered my mouth with both hands. Rachael glared down at me.I heard Miss Michelle come up behind us and say softly, "She's a robophobe, Rachael.. it says so right there. Can't we..""She needs a punishment, a bottle, and a diaper. We have too many Littles to take care of today for special attention like this. We don't even have to tell RoboNanny to punish her since she's already afraid, it's three birds with one stone. She'll survive a change and a feeding, maybe it will cure her of her fear when she sees it's not that bad."I looked pleadingly to Miss Michelle, who lowered her gaze sadly. It was obvious who had the power here and it wasn't her. She went back to crafting things with Littles while Rachael carried me over to the changing corner and sat me in a highchair next to the lifeless robot. She buckled me in, snapped the tray into place and looked me square in the eyes."You have one chance here, Kimmy. Show me that you're a good Little girl, open your mouth for this paci. Take your feeding and your change without fuss and there will be no further punishment," she said with perfect calm.I closed my eyes and opened my mouth even though every fiber of by being was screaming to fight it and run away. I felt a paci being inserted and then pumped up, I wouldn't be able to spit it out. I opened my eyes to see Rachael attaching a tube to the shield of the pacifier and visions of Tina trapped in the RoboNanny flooded my mind. Soon after, juice flooded my mouth and I was forced to swallow as more was pumped in. I had to drink this much faster than any bottle and before I knew it, my mouth started to ache. Rachael had walked away, leaving me trapped and being forcefed. Across from me in a contraption that looked like a wrap-around highchair tray was Sadie, who was stuck there and had her arms crossed. She was in some kind of walker with no wheels, all she could do was hang there, held up by a fabric seat by her diapers. She smirked at me at stuck her tongue out. She may have been in time out, but I was the one being forcefed.After what seemed like an eternity, the juice flow stopped and the tube retracted. Some of the RoboNanny's humanoid fingers extended sent out six flexible cords, two removed the tray and unbuckled me while one wrapped around each of my wrists and ankles. The pacifier was still in my mouth, which muffled my scream as it lifted me out of the high chair and held me down on the changing table."INPUT: 8 MONTHS CONFIRMED, STATUS: CRAWLER," the RoboNanny said in a cold monotone - Rachael had told the RoboNanny I was a crawler! I thrashed trying to free myself but it was futile. The machine stripped me of my wet daytime diaper and slid a massive cushion under me. A cloud of powder rained down on me and the RoboNanny began taping me into a diaper much thicker than my nighttime diapers, but thankfully not as immobilizing as that tattletale diaper was. The diaper was constructed in a way that the tapes actually went from front to back, and my legs were forced into a sitting position, with a huge bulk between them. My bottom bulged out and there would be absolutely no way I could stand - even if I managed to get up, my body would be bent at a ninety degree angle.The RoboNanny set me down on the ground on all fours and I felt a moment of gratitude to be away from it when I heard."CLOTHING ERROR, SKIRT TOO LONG FOR CRAWLER," and before I knew it I was being hoisted back up. It stripped me of my dress and pulled a onesie over my head that read, "I Love LittleGarden!" It snapped the fabric between my legs and set me back down. I wanted my dress back! April picked that dress for me and it looked cute and not that babyish. I didn't look like a Little girl on all fours this way, I looked like a baby. With a full tummy I crawled over to the pile of stuffed animals, tears welling up in my eyes. I found a big stuffed kitty, held it tightly and cried.After just a short while, I felt myself being picked up in the air again and I cringed, but it was Miss Michelle who was rocking me gently and making a gentle shushing sound."It's okay, Kimmy, everything's okay. It's over, you're okay." She rocked me gently. "Would you like to go play with some blocks, or would you like to lay down for a nap?"I tried to answer but the pacifier stopped me, which made me cry harder. Miss Michelle with the pink hair released the pacifier from my mouth and put it on a shelf."Nap please," I sobbed. I didn't want to be around the other Littles, I didn't want anyone else to get me in trouble and I didn't want to be anywhere near Rachael."Okay, Kimmy," Miss Michelle said as she kissed me on the head. She carried me over to an empty crib and laid me down on my side and covered me with a blanket. I clutched the stuffed kitty tightly, I couldn't even spread out on the mattress, the crawler diaper kept my legs at an angle. I sobbed and wished April would come and get me right now as the crib railing slid back up, locking me in the white wooden prison that I chose myself. I'm not sure how long I laid there watching the other Littles play, but I know I was asleep before Sadie's time out was done.

My mother tells me that I and all other toddlers had an "I'm filling my nappy face". She has a photo that she claims is me exhibiting it, aged about 18 months . I guess that while we're getting used to doing it again as adults, we probably exhibit at least a similar expression. I wonder, even if she didn't quite work it out, if you were subconsciously giving off a similar expression that confused the woman a bit. I doubt she really knew what you were doing though... I'd like to think I don't exhibit that kind of face now (unless I want to in a place where it's safe to do so ) so like the others have mentioned, my only real thought before peeing is "will this cause a leak?" If the answer is a firm no, my confidence level is high... I realised long ago that people simply don't notice what they're not expecting to see.