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Chapter 108: General Gao’s BETH TEXTED ME the following morning and said she was skipping breakfast to take care of an errand with Reila, so I sat down with Amy, Mia, and Willow. “Not with your girlfriend today?” Mia asked curiously. I didn’t even bother correcting her, “She had something to do.” I munched on one of the giant pieces of bacon right then, swallowing and asking, “Did you three want to go shopping on Saturday?” “I thought you said it was a bad idea?” Amy said. I nodded, “It would have been by yourselves. We’ll have Beth, Reila, probably Livy, and also Beth’s bodyguard with us?” “That’s a large group?” Willow asked. “That’s kind of hard to move around with?” I shrugged, “If you want to get adopted, go with a smaller group. If you just want to shop and get a chance to see more than the university grounds, that’ll be the safest way?” “How do you get to go off-campus so much?” Zoey, another member of our new nest, asked. “My grandmother?” I told her. “Who is she?” “Amanda Westerfield?” I answered. “That is?” She asked, “I’m not from Ames?” she added with the gasps from a couple of her friends added to the sounds around us. I smiled, “You know the new student union building? Westerfield Hall?” She nodded, “Your grandparents gave the money for it?” “I don’t know if they contributed, but it was named in honor of my grandmother. She’s a big deal in AI and nanite technology advances here. She won the Bremer Prize recently?” Her eyes finally signaled some recognition, “So she’s like really smart?” I giggled, “You could say that.” By the end of breakfast, I planned to meet my friends and get picked up by my grandmother and Nikki. I walked with some friends toward the Matisse Center. I soon sat in Screenwriting class, where all our animated scripts were due. We also went over our next assignment, which would be the next Narratives project. “Okay, for this next assignment, I’m going to not just give you the medium of the film, but we’re also going to have everyone focus on the same thematic idea. This film is to be between fifteen and twenty minutes long and should focus on the theme of betrayal.” “That’s all?” Mason, one of our studio members, asked. “Nothing more specific?” Professor Gibney shook his head, “I don’t want to dictate the project for you. I will say it could be a betrayal of love, country, pet, or any other kind of betrayal you can think of?” As we left class, I was already thinking of some ideas. Right then, I also realized that my diaper was undoubtedly getting close to needing a change. I had zero plans to go to one of the HoloNannies, though! I decided to hang out near Beth’s class again and work on my script ideas. By the time her class ended an hour later, I already had three good ideas and ten pages written for each! “Hey,” she said when she saw me. “Hi, Beth,” I told her with a smile, then went up to her and embraced her. She picked me up and discreetly felt my bottom, “Didn’t feel like using the HoloNannies to change?” I made a face that she and Nikki both laughed at. “Would you mind?” I asked sheepishly. She laughed, “If I have to! It’s just wet, right?” I blushed deeper but nodded. Soon, changed out of the diaper and into a fresh one; we headed for the student union and hit one of the pizza places. She ordered two ‘big’ slices and gave me half of one to eat. “You know, this half of a slice is still like half a pizza back home!” She shook her head, “I really would love to see what your proportions look like to me?” “I wonder what would even happen if you went over?” She shrugged, “I know there are Mids and Bigs who have gone over to work with companies in the past?” “Wait, really?” She nodded, “There is a company called Diamond Tours that has become kind of notorious for luring new Littles here?” She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed, “Supposedly, their entire office on the other side is made up of Bigs?” “Actually, I think that’s the company my mom and grandparents used to come here. How do we not know this about their staff, though?” She shrugged, “I’ve only heard bits and pieces through Mom and Dad, but I guess the portal either automatically shrinks them to being just in the tall category there, or they manipulate people themselves?” “So what’s the racket? Convince people to come over, immediately adopt them?” She shrugged, “Obviously, they don’t claim everyone if your mom and her parents made it back?” I nodded, “Then there are idiots like my exchange group?” She nodded, “You’ve already had several adopted.” “Including one of our professors,” I shook my head and took a few more bites. “It was all worth it, though, to meet you,” I said with a smile. She smiled back, “I’m glad you came too!” “Say…” I said nervously, “I had a thought about tomorrow. Before Grandma takes us home, would you be open to going out to dinner and a movie?” She smiled, “Carly Slane, are you asking me out on a date?” I smiled back, “Uh-huh?” “Where are we eating…?” The two of us discussed the ideas Shelby had helped me with, and she agreed to the plan before we went to sneak in some editing time before our class. We got three more scenes edited before our Narratives class began. BETH SAT IN their Narratives class beside Carly and Charlotte, watching as the professor talked about some different depth-of-field effects you could accomplish either during filming or in your post-production edits. The images projected did look really cool, but she felt most of the techniques were above her. A look at Carly showed her intense concentration and a smile, though. ‘She’s such a nerd sometimes!’ she giggled to herself. Professor Wyler lectured and demonstrated the technology for the first thirty minutes of class before saying, “I want to give you all some time to work on your projects as a group since I know many of you are having trouble scheduling time you can meet. This’ll give you at least an extra couple of hours, which I hope will help those struggling groups.” Beth smiled. With the rhythm Carly and she had been getting into, they could make much more progress that afternoon than they had planned! “Before we go, I want to offer everyone one more challenge you must complete by class on Tuesday.” Beth noticed most of the groups stop from the moving they’d just begun; several seemed almost desperate then. “So, the project is to create a studio logo splash clip for the beginning of your films. I will have a few faculty members select their preference and award the top group two million credits, second place, one million, third, seven-fifty, and fourth; as long as you complete it, you will get four hundred thousand. The splash screens should last between five and twenty seconds long. The cooler and more relevant, the better!” There was some excited chatter around the room and some questions before he dismissed everyone. “How is the editing coming?” Charlotte asked her and Carly. “Pretty good?” Carly said. We’re starting to wrap up Act One in our first edit. Beth and I have a pretty good rhythm going and were flying earlier. I think we can get another eight hours in right now and hopefully finish by tomorrow afternoon. Otherwise, we might come in on Saturday.” “Sounds like a plan,” Charlotte said. “Don’t feel like you have to kill yourselves though. We could get some work done on Monday and Tuesday. I’ve already reserved the student who will compose the music for the film.” “Cool,” Beth said. “What about this project?” “We’ll work on it with Ethan, Sophie, and Will,” Charlotte said. “While Carly would be good at this, I want you guys just to focus on the edit?” Beth nodded, “Okay.” “Let me know when you get done. If it’s by Monday, we might schedule a viewing of the rough with everyone.” “Okay,” Carly said. “Come on, Beth, let’s get to work…” She jumped off the chair and pulled her backpack over her shoulders. “Such a taskmaster!” Beth kidded Carly. Carly giggled in response, and they made their way to the editing studio. Nikki checked the room first and then stationed herself to watch over them. “Why don’t I order some food to be delivered?” Beth suggested. “That way, we won’t have to worry about you skipping dinner.” “Sounds great!” Carly told her. “What do you want?” Carly shrugged, “Not pizza? I could maybe go for something like General Tso’s chicken?” “Huh?” Carly looked thoughtful, “Wait, Mom said it’s called General Gao’s here?” Beth nervously nodded. Nikki spoke up, though, “Are you sure you want that? That’s really spicy?” Beth and Carly both laughed, “She probably does,” Beth said. “This one has a crazy spice tolerance. She actually won a back-to-school contest a few weeks ago. You want something, too?” She asked the bodyguard, who had been practically blending into the wall until then. “Sure…” One thing Beth had always appreciated about the local Chinese food place she ordered from was that they would come to find you in a building you were working on. So it was that Carly continued working on editing, even as they took delivery of their food. They’d just made it to the scene in the playroom the day of ‘Bree’s adoption.’ “Why don’t we stop and eat, then we’ll keep going?” Beth suggested. Carly shrugged, and they all gathered around a table on the back side of the room to split up the order. She shook her head at Nikki, watching Carly eat the first bite. She was pretty good about not being a mommy type herself, but you could see she was already planning how to rescue the crazy Little! Carly seemed to have sensed it as she smiled and enjoyed the first bite. “You really can eat that?” Nikki asked. “It’s delicious!” Carly told her. “You want a piece?” Nikki clearly couldn’t believe it was the regular dish, so she used her own chopsticks to take a piece of the meat and placed it in her mouth. She chewed before rapidly chugging some of her drink! “That’s not spicy?” She asked in disbelief! As if to prove a point, Carly grabbed one of the peppers and bit about half of it off into her mouth. “These are great! But really, I’d rate them maybe a mild poblano or jalapeno back home?” She shrugged and kept eating. “She really is an alien…” Nikki muttered, and the three of them laughed! After watching Carly scarf down food that should have been impossible to eat, she watched her switch back to editing and gradually move faster and faster. They did have to stop and enjoy the improv footage from the tea party, though! They were just getting ready to splice some clips together when a knock came on the door, and it opened. I TURNED AND found Charlotte and Sebastian at the door. “Hey guys,” I said, “What’s up?” “Just wanted to see how you two are getting on?” Charlotte asked. “Pretty good,” I told her. “Just about to finish the tea party scene?” They both chuckled, “I wish we could include the original,” Sebastian said. “Be careful with that one, though. I don’t think you violated any of your stupid Little’s rules, but it’s close to the line?” I nodded, “I actually scrubbed the audio from the original files on the system already.” I didn’t tell them I kept a copy in a strongly encrypted file on a personal storage device, though! ‘I know that no one will ever access it who I don’t to, though!’ “So, when do you think you’ll be able to finish this rough cut?” Charlotte asked. I shrugged and looked at the time, “We’ve got about ten more scenes to go; I’m hoping by the time I have to leave to go to the nest, we can be down to two or three left?” “That’s fast; you’re being careful with the cuts?” Sebastian asked. “She is,” Beth said for me. “The parts already look like a finished product to me. She keeps saying there are more things to do, but I sure can’t tell?” I shrugged, “I want to play with the transition effects some more for timing. Some of that, though, doesn’t make sense to get too nit-picky until we have the soundtrack. We also need to add sound effects to some scenes. I’ll work on that early next week, though.” “It sounds like you two have it in hand. Can you let us know when it’s done?” Charlotte asked. “Sure! Why don’t we plan to meet with anyone who wants to see the rough cut around 20 o’clock on Monday?” I said. “Bring your own pizza?” “Sure, we should be able to access one of the small viewing theaters, too,” Sebastian said. “Have a good weekend,” he said, pulling Charlotte from the room and letting us return to the editing. “Think they don’t trust us?” I asked once the door was closed. “No, they definitely do!” Beth said, “I think it’s more the helpless feeling of this part being out of their hands?” “Well, you can’t exactly have a full group working on this part?” I responded. “No, and I think that letting go is tough sometimes,” she smiled beside me. “I can kind of understand? You’re pretty much doing the whole thing right now.” I blushed, “Sorry?” “It’s your major; you should be the one doing it!” I continued working as quickly but carefully as possible. I hated seeing my original self in the early cuts, but I couldn’t help but smile anytime there was a close-up of my new face. I loved the hairstyles they’d used, and the outfits were cute—if only they weren’t as infantile! I couldn’t help but love my new self a lot more, though! The editing passed with a series of steps for each set of shots. Step one was using Beth’s notes to determine which take was the best. She had done a great job, and I couldn’t disagree with her choices on the Edit Decision List she drew up. With the editing software, it was a quick press of options to have all of the camera shots from that take available to quickly glance through the script and see what looked good for a selection. I would alternate close-ups, medium shots, and wide shots depending on what made sense to tell the story. Each time I did a close-up of Beth, I also felt butterflies in my stomach. Charlotte was a professionally fun actress in all of her shots. She was so talented! Little things like a raise of her eyebrow, a slight turn up of her lips, or tensing of her body told the story so well in anything she did! You could take the audio out of the clip and still be able to read what she was saying and doing! That really applied to most of the cast, though! Ava was the one exception. She really struggled to act the part of the daycare owner believably. I could see why Beth had so much footage of the time in the daycare playing because it took multiple takes to get a scene good enough for her. Even then, I found myself using some creative shots and cuts to use her voice and avoid her facial expressions, which tended to be rather dull or unrealistic. I hated the subject matter of the film, but there was a sense of pride in my being as I completed each part of it. It probably helped that even though I enjoyed my appearance, it still took me a moment to recognize myself as the actress in the scenes! To my surprise, it was soon twenty minutes from when I was supposed to be in the dorm, and I had just one last scene to finish! “I want to stay!” I complained, even as I followed Beth’s directions and saved, backed up, and logged out of everything. “I know, but the last thing we want to do is have a curfew violation for you?” I nodded, “Yeah…” As I stood up, I realized we’d never changed my diaper again, and it was practically all hanging below the level of my skirt! Beth had just put her backpack on and smirked, “That’s a little wet…?” “I noticed,” I said, looking at the clock. “Do you think you can deal with it until you get back to your nest?” Beth asked. “Time is running out?” “If you carry me?” I said with a sigh. “Just don’t leak on me,” she said half-seriously. “They’re usually pretty good about not doing that. But no promises?” She risked it, gathering me up and walking beside Nikki quickly to the dorms. When we reached Sanders Hall, she sat me down at the door, and I grimaced. “Sorry, Beth. I did leak on you, it looks like.” Thankfully, her jacket was waterproof, but there was a definite spot on her side where my diaper contacted her. “It’s okay, Carly, that’ll teach me to make sure we check your diaper more often! Get inside and get Miss Lilly to change you quickly before you leak on anything else!” she advised as she knelt down and risked getting wet again with a hug. “See you in the morning,” I told her, “Love you,” I added softly. “Love you too,” she smiled at me. I was just crossing the lobby to the elevator when I saw Mackenzie. “Well, hello there,” she said, “I haven’t seen you all week except in the pool!” I blushed, “Sorry, it’s been a busy week, and I’ve been working on that film project.” “Is that where you’re coming from now?” I nodded, “Yeah, we were trying to get as much done today as we could.” “Too busy to change that diapee?” I squirmed under her gaze as she knelt in front of me, clearly able to see the soaked diaper hanging below my skirt! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like button and leave a comment! My writing drought has continued through this week, but I'm hoping this weekend that I may have a shot at writing more again. We'll see what my mindset is like. Unless I have a massively productive weekend, we'll definitely be back on once per week again for a while. Thanks for your patience here!

Hey everyone! I did a whole bunch of writing and planning for the next few chapters yesterday and felt that might be a better move than rushing to edit this. I’m hoping this bulk work I did will make it so that I largely won’t have to both write and then later edit chapters in the same day. It’s doable but with some of the longer chapters, it can be a lot. Next, as a reminder, I’m now polling between two stories to figure out what I should write next. The two choices are listed out in chapter 2, so be sure to check them out and let me know. As I will announce my winner in my last chapter, that would be the deadline for you to make your opinion known. As usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 4: Gripping Onto What’s Fun Only… and Failing Oh boy, do the Bigs around here have some potent food choices. I thought that some noisy toots or having to pee really bad was an issue, but there is nothing quite like feeling hungover for hours after eating whatever caused me to still feel fuzzy when I got home after daycare. Nancy seemed a bit concerned and asked me a bunch of funny questions, but by the next morning, the buzz and fuzziness had largely faded and I just kind of felt at ease. In fact, it was the first time I felt okay about anything in my life here in a long time. Nancy still seemed a bit perplex, but she just kind of went along with it, even going as far as to say the old standard of ‘if you’re happy, I’m happy.’ I could see a look behind her eyes that made me question that statement a little bit, but she was Nancy. She would never lie to me, and I mean, she had started to cut off my crusts lately. Who would cut off your crusts and would still lie to you. No one… that’s who. So, life continued just very much as it had. I noticed a few oddities, just kinda feeling a bit numb and forgetful about certain things, but I was still the oldest Little in the Canopy room and that had to mean something. To be frank, a bonus of being just a teensy bit forgetful was that I was able to read a bunch of the books I had before. I stumbled over a word or two, but no one uses them outside that book, so I didn’t really care. I got the gist of it after all, and I was still a smarty pants around here. To even further prove my maturity, I even upped my rejection of other Littles when they came up to me and asked me to play. Before, I sometimes agreed to play with them if it was in my best interest, such as blending in on days where I thought the staff was suspicious of me, or if someone like Mrs. Carter or Mrs. Gillies was upset at me for one reason or another. I was a good gir… well behaved, and I think that’s all that should have mattered, but still, I wanted my status to stay that way as much as possible. So, for today as an example, this one Little, Anna, came up to me. She was a tiny firecracker of a thing, and from her pull-ups just peaking ever so slightly above her waistband of her jeans today, I knew she wasn’t going to be in this room for much longer. “Pwease pay wiff me?” she begged, her eyes becoming like round saucers in her down-pat begging act. Fortunately, after so many times with Littles here by now, I was practically immune to it. “No, Anna. I said no and I meant it. Go find one of the other Littles. I need to finish my book before snack time today.” “But you pwomised!” she countered. “Iss jus’ some tea pawty dis time. I pwomise!” I scratched my head and tried to remember ever promising such a thing, tea party or otherwise. It was a major downside of my memory being a little problematic, but I just chalked it up to my exhaustion levels. I mean, I was getting super sleepy around the afternoon time lately after all, so it just made sense. Still, I just shook my head fiercely. “Doesn’t matter what I promised you, Anna, if it wasn’t today. Unless you can tell me when, then I must have meant it for the day I said it. Not my fault you didn’t remember or didn’t get to me in time that day.” I felt so triumphant as I foisted the blame back onto Anna. For her part, Anna just stood there for a moment and scratched her own head trying to remember when it was and what exactly I had said. Being the more regressed of the two of us, I knew my word would mean more than hers if it ever came down to it. I couldn’t remember promising anything, but if she couldn’t either, I felt pretty justified and off the hook for this go round. Finally, Anna broke from her head scratching. “I can’t remembuh, but pwease, Emiwy! Pwease!” The poor Little was now even succumbing to clasping her hands together and pleading with me even harder now. It was a rare form to see most Littles get to that level, and I will admit that I cracked a little, but I ultimately still held my resolve. “No, Anna. Not now. I need to find out what happens to my hero James as he climbs the grape vine to find the ogre and save his village. I don’t have time for tea now.” I was being truthful and the book, complete even with pictures, was fascinating to me. Still though, I looked at Anna, and her wide eyes seemed to be on the verge of bursting into tears any moment now. Seeing Mrs. Carter casually glance our way every once in a while, I knew I had to back up and try to resolve this mess before it got even worse. I was already on strike one today for refusing to come to sing-along time this morning. I never had to before and I was more mature than others and I had a book to read and… I shook my head, trying to get back on track, and resumed looking back at the still begging Anna before me. I sighed audibly, still seeing the ever-watchful Mrs. Carter looming nearby. “Fine. How about later? Okay? Will that make you run off and leave me alone right now?” Anna’s pleading stopped, and again, she seemed deep in thought, this time stroking her chin, but soon, a smile appeared across her lips, and she nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yes! I’ll ask you waiter. Tank you Emiwy!” I nodded and made sure she toddled off far away from me. Satisfied she was bugging someone else now, I resumed reading my wonderful book. Of course, I had no intention of playing with her or even having tea later in the day, but she didn’t need to know that. All I knew right then was that I had likely been spared strike two and an immediate march over to the punishment room. My butt was still sore from last week when I went there again for refusing to eat my veggies at lunch time. They were all green and squishy, so refusing, I got a spanking. Unfortunately, since my first encounter with Mrs. Gillies, she had insisted on me participating in more Littles activities than I used to. Stil trying to maintain her custody of me, Nancy didn’t object and actually encouraged me to participate in order to blend in better. I didn’t like her much for that, but I couldn’t deny that she had a tiny bit of a point, so I eventually forgave her. Plus, it didn’t hurt that she offered me a freshly baked cookie later that night as an apology for hurting my feelings earlier. Today, though, to my chagrin, was art day. Now, being the English major I was, I supported the arts program in all their renewed refinery back on Earth. Artists and their grand designs were springing up everywhere back home, but just because one supports something, does not mean they can do it themselves. For me, I could appreciate a good Picasso or Monet any day, but I was near useless when it came to doing anything like that myself. Still, when Mrs. Carter and Miss Valerie told me to do something lately, I tried to do it. “Alright everyone,” Miss Valerie started to announce excitedly, “today is art day!” Many of the Littles around me cheered. I did not. “Yes. Now, some of you will be working with markers or the crayons with me, but others of you will be working with paints with Miss Valerie,” Mrs. Carter pointed out, holding up a bucket of crayons and markers while also gesturing to the easels at the other end of the room near the treehouse structure there. I groaned, but I knew that painting was just downright messy, so I ended up joining Mrs. Carter and a few other Littles with the markers and crayons. “So… do we get a prompt, or…?” I tried to ask without sounding too much like one of the drooling Littles around here. Mrs. Carter only chuckled. “Well, Emily, you can just choose to do something on your own or we have these very easy lined drawings all lined up for anyone who wants them.” I hesitated for a moment, but when I saw most of the Littles wearing pull-ups quickly snatch the lined drawings, I elected for the blank piece of paper instead. “I’ll just stick to using my mind. Shouldn’t be too hard…” Mrs. Carter just smirked at me and walked away to help a few of the other Littles. Time dragged on a bit after that. It took me at least 15 minutes to decide to just draw a house and a nice day to fulfill the needs of the assignment, but I kept messing up the lines. I wanted it to be perfect, and I started grumbling heavily to myself. “Easy there, Em,” Tyler noted from next to me. “It’s just to have fun here. No need in giving yourself a migraine…” I always liked Tyler. He was kind to most everyone, seemed to be a little possessive of things that belonged to him, but he also seemed to be one of the few around here that I could talk to even remotely normally. “Easy for you to say… didn’t you mention being an art major or some such?” Tyler shook his head. “Technically no. Former marketing major but in truth, I almost did consider choosing art. Still… just takes a little skill and some imagination around here.” He then rested his crayon down and held up the piece of artwork he had been working diligently on since I started. “Geez…” My eyes darted around his beautifully crafted image. It was a self-portrait but was entirely down in crayon in ways I had never even considered before. Having only 12 colors to choose from, he nearly effortlessly blended many of them together to create highlights and shadows everywhere. “That’s… it’s…” “So lovely!” Mrs. Carter rudely interjected from behind us. “You should be very proud of that, Tyler. I think we should stick that out front to show off.” Her eyes then darted over to my sorry excuse of a drawing. “And Emily… that’s a very good effort. I’m sure Nancy will just love it. Is that your house back on Earth, sweetie?” I could feel the condescension and her tone used exclusively for younger Littles just dripping off each of her words. I nodded, and seemingly satisfied, Mrs. Carter walked off. Feeling my emotions suddenly surge as they oddly had been recently, I quickly ripped up my paper. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” “Hey!” Tyler tried to yell out to stop me, but it was too late. He looked a little crestfallen as he stared back at me. “That was really good, Em. You should have kept that…” I just angrily hmphed and folded my arms. Tyler seemed a little hurt, but I didn’t realize someone else had been watching and listening in. “It’s okay, Tyler,” Miss Valerie said warmly from behind us. “You have a wonderful piece of artwork, and I think Emily here just needs something different today.” She then held out her hand to my crossed arms and smiled at me patiently. “Come on, Emily. Let’s see if painting is more your style today.” Seeing her invitation more as a command than a request, I sighed and took her hand. “Bye Tyler… I really did like your piece…” He smiled back at me and waved goodbye. “Thank you, Em. Just have fun today, okay?” I didn’t have time to respond back as Miss Valerie wasted no time in dressing me in a large billowing smock that covered all my clothing from my neck down to my feet. Seemingly happy with her work, Miss Valerie stood back and smiled. “Wonderful. Washable and even edible paint, but no sense in getting it on your clothes needlessly, huh?” I just nodded and wanted to get this portion of my day over with. Miss Valerie kept smiling and brought me to a now empty sheet of paper hoisted up on an easel. It seemed even more daunting to me than my previous sheet with the markers I was using, but Miss Valerie just pushed the paints and brushes right up to me. “Here you go, honey. As Tyler said, just have fun!” With that, she then left me, but I still felt stumped. I had already tried and personally felt like I had failed with my rendition of a house, so I had no earthly idea what to paint now. Ten minutes passed and I noticed that many of the Littles had begun to disperse to go get cleaned up with some of the volunteers today. Groaning over a bunch of college-aged and high schoolers seeing me struggle with something like painting, just got me all twisted inside. Before I resigned in abject failure though, Miss Valerie came back up to me and sighed. “Still no painting, huh?” I shook my head sadly. She then patted my shoulder. “Here. Let’s try something else.” She then grabbed a brush and splattered a few dollops of paint on the paper plate in front of me. “Okay, I won’t subject you to finger painting today, but we can at least make something for you to take home to Nancy today.” “But I don’t think I can do it, Miss Valerie!” I accidentally whined back. I meant it more as a protest, but once again, my cloudy emotions seemed to be taking over. “I’m terrible at art! Always have been!” “I don’t think that’s true, but even if you think it is, that’s okay, dear. I have something else in mind anyways.” She then grabbed something from her pocket and stretched it out. “Alright. Eyes closed, but just in case you want to peak…” Without so much as another word, she wrapped the long cloth around my eyes. “But I can’t see!” I protested, but it was no use. In seconds, everything was either shades of black or there were just some slips of light coming from underneath the cloth, but it was just of the floor and my feet… nowhere near close to the sheet in front of me. Miss Valerie chuckled. “That’s okay, sweetie. Right now, we’re just going to have fun.” And with that, she took a hold of both my arms and held them out before me, like I was some half-dead mummy or Frankenstein’s monster. Before I had a chance to protest, Miss Valerie cut me off. “Now, before you complain, I just want to do this one thing. I’ll hold you up and decide the color, but you just move your arms with what feels best, okay?” Seeming trapped and helpless, I felt couldn’t do anything but nod. “Perfect! Alright… here we go!” Miss Valerie then thrusted me downward and up. It felt strange to be controlled and yet not in control as well. My brush definitely hit the canvas, but not being able to see anything, I just moved about between long strokes and sheer wildness. I could quickly feel splatters of paint coating my hands and arc out to my chest. I hesitated. “Keep going, Emily! You’re doing really great. Just tell me when you want to switch colors.” “Switch!” I belted out immediately. I then dove down and popped back up moments later. From the splashing of the water on my hands, I knew I was making a mess, but Miss Valerie didn’t seem to care. She even started making race car noises behind me and started to turn the whole thing into a game. I would shout, “Switch!” and she wound dunk me down again and then back up all while humming and grunting out like we were in some car race or on a rollercoaster. “Vroom! Eeek! Dunka dunka dunka! Vroom! Vroom!” It was so silly… she was so silly, but it didn’t take long of the utter ridiculousness for me to begin to crack a smile as well. Being tossed around, practically smeared in paint most likely, and just waving about like some madwoman, it was hard not to. Finally, Miss Valerie halted me into position. “Alright, I think that’s good. Just stay still and let me help you out here.” I did as I was instructed, and the blindfold was quickly removed after my brushes were taken from my hands. Before me, the whole area, wisely protected by plastic sheeting and newspapers, was covered in splashes of paint, nearly too numerous to list, but when I stared at the canvas, it wasn’t anything, but it was also something. I wasn’t sure what, but I just marveled at the array of colors used and I almost couldn’t believe that had sparked from Miss Valerie’s and I’s chaotic dance of sorts. “We did that?” Miss Valeria chuckled as she began to use a wet wipe to clean the bulk of my hands. “No, sweetie… you did that. I just helped you carry the load for a bit. I took away all your judgement and worry over what you were doing. And, if I’m not mistaken from a few of the giggles I heard you make out, I think you had a good time as well. Am I right?” It was hard to swallow all that at once, because she was essentially insinuating that I just let go of everything here, and while that worked for the art world a lot of times, I also had to read between the lines as well. I couldn’t just outright tell her that I wouldn’t give into their infantile designs for me, but I also had to say something. So, I just kind of looked down and nervously bit my lip and rubbed my shoes together. “I guess…” Miss Valerie smiled, and I was grateful she didn’t push the matter further. “Okay. I got most of that paint off, but I think you need some sink time as well. So, off to the potty room with you. Scoot!” Not needing to be told twice, I marched into the bathroom with Miss Valerie. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but after thoroughly washing my hands off with most of the rest of the paint, Miss Valerie just kind of stopped in front of the door as I started to walk out. “Forgetting something?” I tried to rack my brain to think of anything she could be talking about, but I just came up empty. “No… I don’t think so?” Miss Valerie sighed. “Hmmm… well, if you need me to remind you… the potty, Emily… do you need to go potty?” Her hand gestured toward the diminutive stall I had been using so far in there. Seeing so many around here demoted to pull-ups I just had to pause for a moment, and really think if I did or not. I didn’t want to have any slip-ups and earn myself another strike, but I didn’t feel the need at all. “No, Miss Valerie. I don’t have to go…” Miss Valerie seemed a bit put off by that notion, but ultimately just accepted it and let me rejoin the others. Once the art supplies had been cleaned up and the artwork placed on drying racks, the rest of the staff got lunch prepared. It was pretty standard fare, but I guess there was a surge of us in the Canopy room recently, as they even brought in Miss Mindy from the Meadows room to supervise the event. Several Littles were scared, knowing exactly what types of Littles she looked over, but her warm smile and buoyant personality convinced most of them that she was only here to help today. I was less convinced. Still, after lunch was over, everyone mulled about their day. Another round to the potties for most of the Littles, but I just kept reading my book about James and the ogre. It was just getting to the good part when Miss Mindy walked over to me. “Enjoying your book, honey?” I stared up at the tall curly redhead, but I think her nice smile threw me off a little. “Oh yes. I just got to the part where James is taking the magical flute from the treasure room!” Her eyes beamed down at me, and she even lowered her face to mine a little. She seemed less threatening closer to the ground with me, but I could still tell something was cooking behind her eyes. “That’s wonderful, Emily.” She then paused and looked at the rest of me. “Emily… do you need to go potty?” I probably should have been expecting that type of question considering that almost every Little in here just went or had an accident of some sort, but I honestly didn’t feel the need to go. So, trying to act as casually as I could about it, I shook my head. “Nope! I’m all good. Thanks for asking!” Trying to shuffle her away, I smiled widely and then dove back into my book. My ploy didn’t work though as Miss Mindy pulled down my book only seconds later so that I now faced her again. “Emily… I think you do need to go. Miss Valerie says you didn’t go before lunch, so you’re either not drinking enough, or you’re lying to one or both of us now.” I was starting to feel a little defensive right then, but I still tried to remain calm. It was a classic Littles trap, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I just wanted to read my book to see how it would end. Nothing sinister or anything like that, and besides, I really didn’t have to go. Maybe in an hour, but not then. “I’m not lying,” I tried to defend myself. “Honest…” Miss Mindy still didn’t seem satisfied with my answer, hesitated for a moment, and then yanked my book away from me. “Hey!” Miss Mindy held the book just out of my reach, and I tried to claw it back. “Tsk, tsk,” was about all she said back to me, and frankly it just kind of got me more annoyed and more desperate to just go on with my day and finish the book. I was so near the end, but I couldn’t remember it from when I read it before. So, I persisted. Now, I just want to go on record and say that the Littles guide I read might honestly be a ploy for Littles to regress themselves. It practically hints at just submitting to Bigs by the end, but as I was finding out, it was also leaving out huge bits of useful information. First, not all Big advice is bad, seeing as if I had listened to even a single one of them, I might have even been home by now. Second, a Little should always carry their passport with them, even beneath their clothing. It’s your lifeline and your bags can always be stolen… your bra or even underwear, possibly, but not so easily. Third and finally by now, I felt it should have listed something about moving your hands fast back toward a Big. It might have just been some playful shoving or trying to get something just out of your reach, but it just took a second for something to go terribly wrong. And something did go wrong… Trying to snatch my book back, Miss Mindy almost seemed to be toying with me by now. Several Littles looked on in horror at the scene unfolding before them, yet no other Big was there to put a stop to it. If they had, I might not have realized that Miss Mind suddenly arced back her hand just a little out of my reach, or that just under the book was Miss Mindy’s face. It took only a split second, but reaching out further, I lost my balance, and my tiny palm came crashing down and smacked Miss Mindy right in the face. A ghastly shock echoed throughout the room. Everything at once felt like it had stopped. Miss Mindy seemed truly unhurt but seemed definitely perplexed over what had just happened with her face and my hand. For my part, I nearly froze as I stared back at my hand like it had somehow betrayed me. I knew it was just my fault, but I knew whatever happened next wasn’t going to be good. So, even for a moment, it felt nice to blame someone or something else other than my own fault. Regardless, Miss Mindy’s expression soon grew dark, and she bolted up. Her full height stood strained above me and I nearly whimpered at the realization of what was now likely to happen. I was in trouble for sure, but I just didn’t know how much yet. “Emily Breckenridge!” she thundered. ‘Shoot.’ I could only look back up at her in fear. “I guess someone decided to be extra naughty today. Pity…” It was less than I was expecting, yet I still felt certain I would be visiting the back cutesy dungeon I had twice before. So, it wasn’t exactly a shock when she hoisted me up into the air and then under the crook of her arm. Then, however, she spoke, and my blood froze and then boiled. “I guess I was too hopeful to expect a Little like yourself to be ready for the potty just quite yet. Shame… Oh well!” she said so nonchalantly. “Afraid the training panties just aren’t going to cut it!” I think I nearly wet myself right there. I was a good Little, but I really just didn’t need to go. Plus, I had only just hit her by accident. Surely that had to mean something, right? But the Littles parting right down the middle to allow Miss Mindy to pass through outside the room seemed to prove me dead wrong. Unfortunately, unlike the back room I was expecting, she exited the Canopy room quickly and entered the one place I really didn’t want to be: Mrs. Gillies’ front office. To my horror, Mrs. Gillies was already there waiting for us. She wheeled around in her chair, and I could see a cabinet full of monitors that she promptly closed. “I already know, Mindy.” She sighed and looked right at me. “Anything to say for yourself missy?” I gulped but I knew this could be my one hope at redemption. I meekly nodded and looked up at my captor and would-be punisher. “Please Miss Mindy. It was just an accident. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m really, really sorry!” I tried my best to look my most pitiful and while I thought I was definitely getting better at it; I don’t think it was quite where it needed to be to be effective. Miss Mindy sighed and shook her head. Before she spoke a word, I knew my fate was already sealed. “Oh well. I know you’re already sorry about that, Emily. I was hoping you were going to say something else, but,” she then looked back over at Mrs. Gillies, “with your permission, I think the next bit should do well today?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but Mrs. Gillies folded her fingers, leaned back in the chair, and then sighed. “I really hate to do it, but I will trust your judgement in this matter.” With that, Miss Mindy just nodded and hauled me out of the office. Realizing my fate was likely sealed, but not wanting a spanking, I tried for plan B and fought back as much as I could. I was already in loads of trouble by now, so it just felt like my next logical choice. “Let me go! Let me go!” I began to wiggle as if someone had just poured ice down my panties. Now, ‘quit while you’re ahead’ is a useful phrase that I feel every Little should cherish and memorize no matter what their circumstances in this dimension. In retrospect, thrashing about was not the move to make right then, as when we passed by the front desk, Miss Mindy grabbed a ruler and gave me three swats to my exposed rear. “You! Will not! Kick me!” I barely felt the pain, but I also felt I hadn’t done anything wrong on purpose. It was so unfair, and the tiny spanking only furthered my emotions as they began to go haywire. I wanted to listen to her… I really did, but my mouth and body had other ideas. “No! No! Let me go! I didn’t do anything wrong!” “Unbelievable…” Miss Mindy just shook her head. “Guess we need to make pit stop first. She then resumed her walking and to my horror, she entered the Canopy room. Almost every Little just stared at me in horror, but Miss Mindy just ignored them and went over to my cubby and to the container at the top that contained my mandatory change of clothes. “Hmmm… these seem a bit inappropriate today…” Miss Mindy then dumped my spare training panties out and instead replaced them with a pair of pink prince pull-ups. Remembering what she had said earlier about not being ready for training panties, I was too shocked to say anything. “Perfect! These should do nicely. Now, just one more stop.” Miss Mindy then took me down the hallway outside, and unfortunately, right into the Meadows room. Fearful that everything was falling down around me now, I popped out of my stupor and began to thrash around more. Despite my ruckus, Miss Mindy’s grip just held firm. “No! No! You can’t do this to me! I want my panties back, you stupid cow!” I cursed. I had no idea where those words were coming from, but I knew they were bad in so many ways for me, particularly when a few Littles covered up their ears inside the room. “Tsk, tsk…,” Miss Mindy chided me, like I was the bratty young child I guess I was now looking like as I still fought her every step she took through the room. I swear I saw that old, ugly dog again, but I was too preoccupied by all the smells and the awaiting rear door of the room and the spanking I knew was on the other side. “Such a shame. You were such a good girl for us since you started coming to daycare, little miss. I guess we were giving you just too much slack in the Canopy room. No worries… we know just how to handle your type…” Miss Mindy continued, trying to reposition me better as I still wildly kicked around. I didn’t hear her though. I was in my own little world by then. “I want out now!” I just continued to wail, likely to my own further punishment later. “Wait until Nancy hears about this! She’ll have your job! Get off me now, you stupid bi…!” Before I had a chance to say anything further, Miss Mindy popped me on the butt again, this time with her freehand. Then, sighing, Miss Mindy just continued and nodded at the most notable daycare worker beyond herself working in this room. “Evening, Miss Tully. Just showing Em here her likely future…” Miss Tully just looked over to me, smiled, and gave me a little wave. Miss Mindy’s words and Miss Tully’s welcoming wave were a shock to my system, but before I had a chance to even register them, Miss Mindy just continued to carry me away and out the back door of the room. Soon, we were in the cutesy dungeon once more and I was lying back down on the bench with my panties and jeans around my ankles. Miss Mindy elected the long wooden paddle and lined up her shot from behind. I braced for the impact, but she then just sighed instead. “You know… it didn’t have to be this way. If you just behaved and listened, all this could have been avoided.” She heavily sighed again. “I just wanted you to go potty. Even just to try and then I would have known you weren’t lying. I think you just get yourself way too scrambled and overthink everything around here, and from what Miss Valerie told me, I don’t think I’m the only one who thinks so either. I guess we’ll soon fix that though…” My mind spun at what she had just said, but one swift smack by the paddle to my poor butt, sent those thoughts spiraling away. Today, I wasn’t even sure how many spanks I would be receiving, but I lost count after 20. After… uh, the numbers seemed fuzzy, but I just focused on the pain erupting from behind me. By the end, I was a complete mess, and unlike Miss Valerie, Miss Mindy immediately took me away and, to my everlasting sadness, to the back room once more. “Oh, hello again, Emily,” Bee said, smiling as Miss Mindy escorted me into the room and set me down on the restraining large armchair again. I didn’t respond and she stared back at Miss Mindy. “Everything okay? She’s not broken, is she? You know that messes with and can even invalidate my results.” Miss Mindy groaned and rolled her eyes. I remained silent and submissive to whatever their whims were. I didn’t care anymore. I just didn’t want another spanking. “Yes, Bee. I remember, but this little mischief maker smacked me in the face, threw a temper tantrum all throughout two classrooms, and refused to go potty.” It was an exaggeration, but I knew better than to correct her. “Oh my!” Bee then looked back down at me. “Little troublemaker indeed. Guess the first time didn’t stick. Can’t say I’m surprised with their lot though…” Miss Mindy nodded and backed away. “You got this? I think Tulia is going to need my help pretty soon back in the Meadows room.” In a second, the restraints clunked over my wrists and Bee smiled back. “Not anymore. Go, go. Little Emma and I are going to have a little fun, aren’t we?” she asked, now looking back at me. I still didn’t respond. “Oh. I think someone’s shy…” her voice was barely above a whisper like it was some secret or with the possibility of me being offended. I knew it was just a joke at my expense though. Miss Mindy smirked and then left. Oddly, I felt this place seemed familiar, as I really just knew of ‘a backroom,’ but I just couldn’t quite place it. Just as I was trying to figure out why it seemed so familiar, Bee poked a needle right into my arm. “Ow!” I could quickly feel the tears swim to my eyes and a warmth spread throughout my body. “That hurt!” “Awww…” Bee mocked. “Just a little prick, but I know just what will pick you right up.” She then wheeled away in her chair briefly and came back with a big scary-looking machine. “Okay, now just smile for the camera, Emma!” It didn’t look like a camera, but I stared back into the big screen getting into place before me. At first, I thought it was nothing but a likely broken, black screen, but soon, it popped on and an array of colors began to flood my eyes. “So… pwetty…” “That’s right…” Bee said, smiling just out of the corner of my eye. “Just look at the pretty images and relax, Emma. Just relax… that’s it… godd girl...” I quickly felt myself relaxing. Everything began to buzz and feel fuzzy. The pictures were funny. ‘Is that Nancy? Ooh! Bunny! Oh… I feel so… relaxed… happy… peacefuwl…’ I swore I felt a warm sensation in my panties, but the feeling soon went away. I was too sleepy to care anyways… The colors made me feel so many things. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t matter though. What I wanted didn’t matter. I was just happy… I was calm… relaxed… I was sooo sleepy… * * * I felt an odd tugging sensation and cold underneath my feet. My eyes slowly opened and then popped open all at once after seeing what initially greeted them. “Wha…?” “Oh good, sweetie,” Miss Valerie smiled up at me as she finished removing my training panties. “You’re finally awake.” Her face then turned a little sorrowful. “Sorry honey, but you kind of had an accident after you nodded off. It’s okay, but I think your training panties just aren’t doing the trick anymore.” I was so confused and my tushy really hurt. I tried to look for answers… I didn’t like being confused, but that’s when I found my pants and training panties off to the side… wet. “Oh no!” “Shhh, shhh,” Miss Valerie tried to calm me. “It’s okay. Really, Emma. It’s just a little accident. I just need to clean you up a little bit and everything is going to be just fine. I promise, okay?” “’kay…” was about all I could say right then in my dejected and confused state. I felt adrift and more than a little upset, but Miss Valerie said it would be okay, so I just trusted that she knew best. I looked down and I shivered as the wipes rounded my skin and wiped me clean. It was a little uncomfortable, but I was getting all clean again from my little accident. In the end, that’s what mattered. ‘I hate feelin’ all icky! Yuck!’ “Okay. Much better,” Miss Valerie said after tossing the last wipe away a few moments later. She then reached over and ruffled out something pink and kind of poofy. “Now. Just be a good girl for me and step right in. In fact, it’s just like you did with your training panties, okay?” I nodded and braced myself on her shoulder and then placed both my legs into the garment as she told me to. Miss Valerie then slid them up my legs and into place. They felt a little bulky and I worried that everyone was going to see and make fun of me, but I did like the princess on the front. She seemed so familiar, but I just wasn’t sure why. Regardless, I liked her and even the pink. I made feel all pretty… ‘Like the princess!’ Miss Valerie looked at me weirdly for a moment, and I felt like such a poofy head for forgetting the most obvious thing. “Sowwy, Miss Valawee… thank you so much. Dey so pwetty!” I showed my new pull-up off proudly to her. Miss Valerie only smiled back and ruffled my hair. “I’m so very glad, Emma. You were a very good girl.” She then bent over and grabbed something from the floor. “Now, let’s get these leggings on you so you can go back out and play.” I just nodded and once again, braced against her as she slid up my purple leggings. A little self-conscious over the slight bulkiness my leggings showed off with my new underwear, I reentered the Canopy room slowly. I saw a bunch of Littles looking at me and I squirmed in place thinking they were all judging me. Fortunately, it seemed I still had one friend here. “Emma! Emma!” Anna called out to me, running over. “Taywo goh in twoubuh!” I gasped in sadness and shock. “Buh’ he was so good. His awt was awesome and supah cool!” “Yeah!” my friend agreed. ‘She was my friend, right?’ “Buh someone stohl da paint he was usin’. Big fight an’ awl!” I gasped and we continued to chat for a little while longer. I hoped to see Tyler back here so I could offer him my support and a great big hug, but unfortunately, after some time, I still didn’t see him. Once again though, Anna was there for me. “Emma?” I looked back up at my friend. “Yeah?” “You wanna pway wiff me?” she asked nervously. I worried she didn’t want to be with me anymore, but when I saw she looked like she was the one who was going to get rejected, I just nodded my head really, really quickly. “Uh huh!” “Yay!” she celebrated. “How ‘bou’ some tea?” I smiled and nodded enthusiastically again. I knew I would have to leave soon, and while that meant that Nancy was coming here to pick me up… ‘Oooh! I can’t wait to see her!’ I then quickly thought of the cool new painting I had made today and even wanted to show off my new pull-ups! I mean, they were pink, and the princess was pink. ‘Did that make me a princess?’ I smiled but I quickly wondered how I got into thinking I was a princess in the first place. My thoughts felt like they had all just gone through a mixer. ‘Were they always so hard to wade through? Wait a sec… wasn’t I thinking something else before the princess thing and the pink bit?’ I stopped and tried to remember. ‘Ugh!’ I realized I had gotten off topic, but after focusing as hard as I could while Anna went to get the tea set from nearby, I remembered it! What I was thinking was that even though Nancy would be here soon, I was glad for friends like Anna. In an exciting and yet sometimes scary place like daycare here, making or bonding with a new friend was the best thing in the world.

Here is the next installment. I hope this leaves you hanging—evil laugh. Chapter 27 - Outburst As Darlene drove Avery home, she could feel the tension between them. She didn’t like it. She knew she had overstepped her bounds twice during dinner, but she thought she should be given some slack for everything she had done for him. What she has done for him has always been to look out for him. She didn’t understand her own emotions and why she felt the need. It wasn’t just about work telling her to look at him but something deeper. She looked over a couple of times as she drove with him with Avery just looking away from her. She tried to have a conversation a few times, asking him how he liked the restaurant, but he never said a word. He could have at least said thank you for paying for both him and Christy. It wasn’t a cheap dinner. But Avery continued to sit in the passenger seat of Darlene's car; he couldn't help but feel a knot of anger and betrayal in his chest. He was angry at her, and he made it clear by ignoring her. Her actions towards him made him feel how incapable he was of taking care of himself. And to make matters worse, Christy, the girl he had been trying so hard to impress, had witnessed it all. He could feel her judgmental gaze on him as Darlene continued to belittle and infantilize him. The thought of her finding out about his diaper and what had happened at Darlene's house filled him with shame and fear. He didn't want her to see him as anything less than a mature and capable young man, but now he knew that chance was gone. Despite his anger towards Darlene for treating him like a helpless child, there was still a part of him that secretly enjoyed the attention and care she showered on him. It made him feel special and loved in a way he hadn't felt before. Avery resented himself for having those feelings. He wondered if Christy had picked up on any of this or if she just saw him as a pathetic boy unable to take care of himself. The SUV came to a stop at the red light, and Darlene glanced over at Avery in the passenger seat. He was still facing away from her, staring out the window with an angry expression on his face. His shirt was untucked once again, with a new stain near his left pant pocket, where he must have rubbed it in while wiping his hands with his napkin. It was a mixture of the cheese sauce and tiramisu that he had for dessert. Darlene shook her head in frustration, realizing that Avery had no idea how to behave in a nice restaurant like the one they had just left. She turned off the radio, which was playing softly in the background. "Avery, I know you're mad, but avoiding me won't solve anything. I'm sorry for what happened," she said, trying to break the tense silence between them. But Avery remained silent as the light turned green, and Darlene drove towards his apartment complex. As they pulled up to his building, Darlene sighed and spoke again. "I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully, you can get some rest." But Avery didn't respond. He simply got out of the car and slammed the door before storming off into his apartment without looking back. Darlene felt a surge of anger rises within her, but she took deep breaths to calm herself down. She couldn't stoop to Avery's childish level; someone had to be the mature one in this situation. She waited until Avery disappeared inside before starting the SUV and driving off. She couldn't help but feel frustrated with his behavior. It felt like she was dealing with a sulking child rather than an adult who should know better. Darlene's grip on the steering wheel was so tight that her knuckles turned white. As she drove away from the apartment complex, the memories of Avery's visit to her home swirled in her mind like a never-ending storm cloud. The thought of going back to that empty, lonely space made her stomach churn, and bile rose up in her throat. With a defeated sigh, she pulled into the parking lot of her favorite liquor store, hoping to numb the pain and delay facing her loneliness at home for a little while longer. As she pushed a cart through the aisles, running her fingers over the smooth labels of familiar wines and exploring new ones, Darlene's mind was consumed with negative thoughts. This was usually a calming activity for her, but today, it only served to amplify her feelings of emptiness and despair. She couldn't shake off the feeling that even this simple task would be tainted by her ever-present loneliness. Replying to the events of today, Darlene shook her head softly. From getting written up at work to Avery being angry with her for trying to take care of him, it seemed as though nothing was going right in her life right now. She felt like she deserved a break, a moment of respite from the constant barrage of problems and failures that seemed to follow her wherever she went today. But as she reached for yet another bottle of wine, she knew deep down that this temporary distraction would only lead to more regret and self-loathing later on as she committed herself not to drink herself to sleep tonight. As she picked up a new bottle and read the label, her iPhone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and saw that it was her sister Laurisa calling. "Hey, sis," Darlene answered as she put on her headset. "I wasn't expecting you to call tonight," Darlene continued. "Yeah, I know. But I'm worried about you and Avery. What's going on?" Laurisa asked, sounding concerned. "I'm fine, really. You don't need to worry," Darlene replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Don't give me that, Darlene. I'm your older sister. I know there's something more going on with this guy from work. You've never been this protective over someone like that before," Laurisa prodded. "I'm just looking out for him like I was instructed to at work," Darlene insisted. "But you called him a boy earlier. He's a young man, Darlene," Laurisa pointed out. "I meant young man. It just slipped out," Darlene clarified defensively. "You may have said 'young man,' but your subconscious definitely said 'boy'. What's really going on? Did something happen when he came over last Thursday?" Laurisa pressed. Darlene hesitated before finally admitting: "No, nothing happened. We just watched a movie." Laurisa could tell there was something more to this than Darlene was leading on. "Hmm, sure, it doesn't seem like anything happened based on how you were acting at dinner tonight. You were practically jumping out of your seat every time he breathed," Laurisa observed. Darlene sighed. "Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little overly concerned for him. It won’t happen anymore. I'm done looking out for him just because work has asked me to." Laurisa could pick up on the emotions that Darlene was feeling. "Just be careful, sis. Your hormones are still all over the place from pumping so much breast milk. You haven't been yourself since the miscarriage," Laurisa warned. "I know, I know. But I'll be fine. Thanks for checking in, Sis," Darlene reassured her. "Alright, just promise me you'll talk to me about it and be careful. I worry about you," Laurisa said with concern. "I will, I promise. Love you, sis," Darlene replied sincerely. "Love you too," Laurisa echoed before they hung up. Darlene made her way to the checkout stand, her mind reeling from the conversation with her sister. She knew she was getting too involved with Avery, and that's why her emotions were all over the place. As she approached the counter with a cart full of wine, she paused and looked at the liquor aisle. It was a cool night, and she couldn't help but think of the times when she and her sisters would sit by the fire and take shots of Goldschlager while talking about their problems with boys or girls, in Laurisa's case. She grabbed a bottle and a shot glass, not sure what she was going to do with it yet. But one thing was for sure: she needed to find a way to clear her head and sort out her feelings before things got too complicated. As Darlene stood at the checkout counter with her cart full of wine, she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that her emotions were getting the best of her. She knew her sister was right - she had been getting too close to Avery's situation, and it was starting to affect her own mental state. The cashier scanned each bottle of wine with a polite smile, breaking the silence that surrounded Darlene. "Stocking up for a party?" he asked cheerfully. Darlene forced a smile and replied, "Oh, just stocking up for myself. It's been one of those days, you know?" The cashier nodded sympathetically as he continued scanning the bottles. "I hear you. Wine always helps take the edge off." Darlene chuckled softly, grateful for the small moment of understanding from a stranger. "Yeah, that's the plan." As the last bottle was scanned, Darlene reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet, and paid the cashier. With a heavy heart, Darlene left the liquor store, her arms full of wine bottles and a bottle of Goldschlager. While she drove home, she passed by one of her favorite parks - a peaceful oasis in the midst of the bustling city. The park was known for its friendly ducks and geese, as well as the occasional sighting of rabbits and chipmunks. Despite the tempting prospect of a tranquil afternoon at the park, Darlene couldn't shake off the events that had transpired earlier in the day. She quickly decided to pull into the parking lot with a heavy sigh and made her way to a bench by the small man-made lake. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful orange glow over the water. Darlene set down her purchases on the bench and took out a shot glass she had picked up at the store. She poured herself a shot of Goldschlager, relishing in the familiar warmth that spread through her body with each sip. "To the end of a shitty day," she muttered before downing the shot. As she sat there, watching the sunset and sipping on her drink, Darlene couldn't help but reflect on her relationship with Avery. They had gotten into this thing that was going on between them right now over what she did, and now he wasn't speaking to her. It infuriated her not to have control over the situation, especially since she was convinced she could make him see things her way. She could just let it go. She absentmindedly ran her fingers along the rim of the shot glass as she thought about their last encounter - when he had voluntarily breastfed from her. It had been a deeply intimate moment, but now she wondered if it had caused some sort of underlying tension between them. With a heavy heart and another shot finished, Darlene decided to call it a day and headed back home. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, leaving behind a peaceful stillness in the park's atmosphere - a stark contrast to the turmoil within Darlene's mind. She knew she was in for a long, restless night of no sleep as she got up and headed back to her SUV. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Avery burst through the front door, slamming it shut behind him, not caring about any of the neighboring apartments about the loud noise. Huffing, he kicked off his shoes and tossed his pants onto the floor. As he headed to the bedroom, Avery's hands reached down and pulled apart the Velcro tabs of his crinkled-soaked diaper. The diaper was cold and wet in Avery's grasp, squishing under his fingers as he wadded it up. The tapes were sticky and tough to pull apart, causing him to let out a quiet growl of frustration. As he wadded the diaper up, he sat it down on the kitchen counter, where it lay wet and squishy. Once the diaper was removed, it left a cool, damp spot where the fabric had been pressed against his skin. His face contorted into a grimace as he mumbled to himself, eventually turning away from the counter with a look of disgust. Avery walked over to his dresser, a sense of frustration and anger bubbling within him. He forcefully pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. "I am not a fucking baby," he shouted in his empty apartment, feeling the need to assert himself. He slid on his boxers without wiping himself down, glad to be rid of the diaper and Darlene. He stormed over to the sofa and turned on his PlayStation, loading up one of his favorite games, Ratchet and Clank. He was going to play till his anger went away. With every move of the controller, he felt some of his pent-up emotions release as he took out his aggression on the virtual bad guys. But even amidst the chaos of the game, Avery couldn't ignore the touch of Darlene's hand as she smoothed out his shirt and brushed against his diaper in front of Christy. The image played over and over in his head. Normally, he would have enjoyed this attention alone with her, but right now, he was too worked up to appreciate it. "Fucking take that!" he yelled at the screen as he continued to shoot down enemies in the game, trying to distract himself from the uncomfortable situation in his real life. An hour dragged by, the game's difficulty increasing with each level. Avery's frustration mounted, and his palms grew slick with sweat as he furiously pressed buttons on his controller. But no matter how skilled he was, it seemed like the game was against him. In a burst of anger, he flung the controller across the room, its plastic body colliding with the wall on the other side. "Fucking game cheats," Avery cursed under his breath, his heart racing with adrenaline. Avery's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, each one pulling him in a different direction. He needed to calm down, but he felt like he couldn’t, so he stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. In the midst of his turmoil, he had totally forgotten about his valium which he could have taken when he got home. He dropped his boxers on the bathroom floor and stepped in the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his body. But it wasn't enough to soothe his frustration, and with a helpless cry, he lashed out and punched the shower wall. The heat only seemed to intensify his confusion and anger. Tears streamed down Avery's red and blotchy cheeks, his shoulders shaking with each sob. The once calm bathroom was now a disheveled mess, bits of shampoo and soap bottles scattered on the floor, which he knocked down as he through his fit of rage. Tears continued to well up in Avery's eyes and spilled over as sobs racked his body. He wasn't even sure what he was crying about anymore; his emotions were just too much to handle. For what felt like an eternity, he alternated between crying and hitting the shower wall until exhaustion finally overtook him, and he rested his head against the tile. The shower water felt both hot and cold against his skin, adding to the intensity of his emotions. His knuckles were raw from hitting the hard tile, and his body ached from the physical and emotional strain. Avery's soapy fingers ran through his hair as he tried to relax under the hot water. But then, a loud pounding on his front door shattered his peace. He froze, water still running over his closed eyes and down his chest. He strained to hear the muffled voice outside, but all he could make out was, "Open up!" Panic rising in his chest, Avery shut off the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. Racing towards the door, he couldn't shake the thought that something terrible must have happened for someone to be banging on his door like this. Was the apartment complex on fire? "Hold on... Let me get dressed," Avery shouted back at the person, hoping they would give him a moment to collect himself before confronting them. But they continued to yell insistently from the other side of the door. "Avery Sage! Open this door now! I know you're in there ignoring me. Open up!" His heart dropped as he recognized the voice to be Darlene's. What was she doing back? He checked the clock and saw that it was only 7:22 p.m., still early in the evening. With a sense of dread, Avery realized he had no choice but to face her before she caused a scene outside of the apartment complex. Hurriedly, he wrapped a tan towel around his waist and went to open the front door. “Finally,” Darlene said as she pushed past him as soapy water was dripping down his face and body with his half-wet towel wrapped around his waist. “I have been knocking for over 10 minutes.” “I couldn’t hear you,” Avery said, closing the door. This was the first time Darlene had set foot in his small one-bedroom apartment. “Obviously, I was in the shower.” Avery’s tone was sarcastic and not at all inviting. “I am sorry for getting you out of the shower. I didn’t know. I guess I am going to be apologizing a lot this evening.” Darlene said in a remorseful tone. Darlene's eyes swept over the small living room, taking in its sparse and humble furnishings. The sofa was faded and sagging, with worn spots on the armrests where people had rested their arms for years with mismatched pillows on it and a blanket draped halfway on it. The coffee table was scratched and marked with various rings from cups and plates. The old TV stand looked precarious, almost comical in its attempt to support the flat-screen TV as it was on two cinder blocks with a board across them. It was clear that this was not a well-furnished apartment. A controller by the wall near the door is lying upside down. “I came by because I don’t want to end the night like this. I wanted to talk about everything that has happened between us.” Darlene’s voice was concerned as she could tell Avery didn’t look right. His body was shaking, and it wasn’t just from getting out of the shower. “Nothing has happened; I don’t know what you're talking about.” Avery started to turn around and walk away. “Just forget everything and leave me be.” “See, you are doing it again. You’re trying to ignore me when I try to talk to you.” Darlene’s voice rose. “I am concerned about you, and I am trying to talk to you like grown-ups.” Avery just continued to walk towards his bedroom, and Darlene took a few more steps into the apartment, between the living room and kitchen. She could see the top of the kitchen counter had a wadded-up dirty diaper lying disgustingly on it. She rolled her eyes and then shouted. “STOP RIGHT THERE AND TURN AROUND. WE ARE GOING TO TALK!” Avery’s emotions kicked back in, and he turned around and stopped his feet on the ground a few times like a toddler would when they were having a tantrum. “I DON'T HAVE TO TALK TO YOU. I AM NOT GOING TO TALK TO YOU. I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. I WANT YOU TO GO AWAY FOREVER! YOU ARE NOT MY MOM!” He said the words so quickly and didn’t even realize what he said. His attitude took Darlene aback. She wasn’t sure what she should do. He was being unreasonable. There was a half-empty Sprite can on the coffee table, which Avery was standing next to in a towel. In anger at Darlene, Avery reached down, picked it up, and threw it at her. The soda can hit Darlene square in the chest, and some spilled down her blouse. As she was in total shock at what happened, Avery immediately turned and ran and slammed the bedroom door shut. She could hear him locking it and crying loudly. “GET OUT OF HERE. I DON'T WANT YOU HERE. YOU WILL JUST END UP LEAVING ME LIKE THEY ALL DO. I HATE YOU FOR IT!” Through sobs and shaking, his voice echoed through the closed door. "Everyone hates me! Everyone leaves me!" And Darlene knew then that his outburst wasn't just directed at her but at everyone who had ever abandoned him. She could hear him crying loudly, feeling helpless and alone on the other side of that locked door. “Everyone hates me. Everyone leaves me!” Avery screamed as his whole body was shaking, and he fell to the floor, pulling his knees up close to his chest and rocking back and forth. Darlene walked over to the bedroom door and tried to open it, but it confirmed what she already knew: It was locked. “Come on, Avery, let me in. I am not here to fight,” she said in a soft voice, but it was met with a loud thud against the door as he threw something at it. “GO AWAY. I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!” Avery screamed at her. “Fine, I am leaving, Avery.” She sighed and started to walk away, but just before she got to the front door to leave, she stopped and looked back at the locked door as she rested her hand on the doorknob to leave the apartment.

Sam's in trouble but there's still n escpe room to finish. Can she and her friends figure out the puzzles or will they have to tap out? --- My writing is my passion and my income. I'm only able to write as much as I do because of the wonderful support from my subscribers. With the ABDL purge on Patreon hurting my income dramatically I have set up a couple of alternatives. If you enjoy my work and want to support me there has never been a time where I need it more. For $5 you can see every update to my stories one week before anyone else and for $10 you get early access PLUS access to 50+ stories EXCLUSIVE to subscribers. There are other rewards and tiers available including discounted commissions. To find out more please consider visiting one of my subscription sites. Prices, rewards and eveything else are the same across both https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy Thank you for reading and supporting me and my work ❤️ --- “Sam?” Nina hurried back across the room and knelt down in front of Sam with concern etched across her face, “What’s wrong?” “I’m…” Sam started. She had no idea how to tell her friend she was actively pooping herself. She had thought being found in the messy diaper the previous day was as bad as things could get but she had been very wrong. This was much worse. Sam’s body answered for her. She felt a cramp building through her bowels and she knew there was only one way to relieve it. With Nina hands on her shoulders Sam lowered herself into a squat. Before she had even reached her lowest point the rest of the first turd that had been poking out of her emerged and dropped into the padding, she exhaled softly as her butthole closed but there was more to come. She could only imagine how she looked, squatting in front of the others like this. “Oh… god…” Chrissy was muttering but in the now mostly quiet room her voice carried to every corner. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Sam cried as tears ran down her cheeks. She was still fighting the rest of the waste that felt like it was piling up at her backdoor. A useless battle that she would inevitably lose. “Shush, it’s OK.” Nina said quietly, “Sam, look at me. It’s OK.” Sam looked up at Nina but it felt like the hardest thing she had ever done. She felt so ashamed. A second later her resistance gave up. Her eyes closed and she held her breath. Just as her tummy muscles tensed and pushed she felt Nina’s arms wrap her in a tight hug that she didn’t let go. Sam could hear Nina whispering to her as a sticky mass spread over the back of her diaper. “It’s OK.” Nina kept repeating, “I’m right here. You’re going to be alright.” Sam grunted. Her hands balled up into fists and she separated her legs a little more. There was a rush of hot sticky poop that pushed out the back and bottom of her diaper. She let out a breathy exhale as she stopped pushing. The heavy disposable felt like it might now be sticking out under her skirt. “That’s it.” Nina continued to quietly whisper, “Everything is going to be fine.” Sam covered her face with her hands and could feel the wetness of her tears on her cheeks. As soon as she had finished pushing she relaxed her bladder and soaked the front. At this point she felt out of breath and leaned forward into the cuddle which felt like the only thing keeping her from losing her mind. “Is everything OK in there?” A female voice came through the speakers. Clearly an employee of Midforest. “Erm…” Chrissy hesitated to say anything. Sam was still wrapped in a hug with Nina. She could smell herself and was shocked that her crush wasn’t gagging and running away. Sam’s tears had calmed down and one of Nina’s hands was up and stroking the back of her head. “I’ll tell them to unlock the door.” Amy said as she started towards the intercom. “W-Wait!” Sam suddenly blurted out. Everyone stopped and looked at Sam. She finally untangled herself from Nina and stood up slowly. She winced as she felt her heavy load rubbing against her skin and pulling her diaper lower. She swallowed nervously, she could see her friends looking at her with concern and not a little disgust. Bearing in mind what she had just done right in front of them she could hardly blame them. “If… If you can put up with the smell we… we could continue.” Sam hesitantly suggested. She was surprising herself in some ways. “Are you sure?” Nina asked with concern, “I’m sure no one will blame you for ending it.” “I don’t want to ruin it for everyone.” Sam said, “If you guys want to keep going then we can keep going.” Sam saw Amy and Chrissy look at each other. The smell was clearly spreading. She wondered if they both wanted to leave but neither had the heart to say so. Eventually Chrissy shrugged and Amy walked over to the microphone and pressed the button. “Erm… We’re fine. Thanks.” Amy said. “You really don’t have to stay in here doing this.” Nina said quietly to Sam, “I’m sure we’d all be happy to leave if it would make you more comfortable.” “I’ll be OK.” Sam replied in a slightly choked voice, “We must nearly be done, right?” Nina smiled and gave her a little nod. Sam stood still as her taller friend leaned forwards and gave her a small kiss on the forehead, for just a brief second Sam forgot all about her predicament. “Alright, well…” Chrissy was still looking like she would’ve rather left the room but didn’t want to be the one to say it, “We need to go through this little vent still.” “I’ll do it.” Sam said. “Are you sure?” Amy asked. “Guys, please…” Sam said as she waddled into the middle of the room, “If we’re going to carry on can we just try to pretend everything is normal?” Sam saw her friends nod but she understood how impossible what she was asking of them was. She couldn’t realistically hope that they wouldn’t act differently towards her after she had just filled her pants. She grimaced a little as she went across to the vent, the diaper’s contents shifted with each step and she wondered if the bottom of her disposable was peeking underneath her skirt. It certainly felt heavy enough to be poking out. Chrissy had already unscrewed the vent covering. It was a short tunnel but it would clearly be easier for Sam to traverse than the others, even so, she would have to get on her hands and knees. As she looked at the small hole she thought about how well she was taking everything. Before the week had started she had always thought she would throw herself off a building if she did anything so childish and humiliating. Now she had lived through her worst nightmare multiple times and yet not only had she not died from embarrassment but she was carrying on almost like everything was normal. She didn’t know how things had changed so much. “Alright, so I think there’s a button or something on the other side.” Amy said. Sam saw she was very pointedly breathing through her mouth. Sam dropped to her hands and knees. She heard gasps behind her and cringed, no doubt her friends could see her diaper under her skirt but she hadn’t thought that the damage she had done would be clearly visible. She could practically feel their eyes burning a hole into her bulging and stinky behind. Her automatic reaction was to freeze up but after a few seconds she decided the only way through it was forwards. With slightly awkward movements Sam crawled forwards. She quickly found that crawling in a messy diaper was even worse than walking in one, the poop rubbed against her and spread even more. Crawling in a diaper she had just filled as her friends watched her, it was easily the most like a babyish she had ever felt. She found that she wasn’t nearly as upset about it as she would’ve thought and wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. It only took a few seconds for Sam to scamper through but once she was on the other side of the door she breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to be out of view for a second. She leaned back against the wall and as she looked around she noticed a blinking light in the corner, of course she wasn’t alone and Sam started wondering just how much the people on the other end of the camera had seen. “Sam?” Nina’s voice called through the tunnel, “Can you see a button or anything?” “Hold on, I’m just looking.” Sam shouted back. The room on the other side of the door was very small, barely bigger than a closet. It was dark with a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. It was so dark that basically every bit of the walls just a few feet down from the light were completely hidden. There was indeed a button next to the door, in fact there were half a dozen and each was a different colour. Sam could just about reach them when she stood on tiptoes. As she looked at the buttons she started to smell herself, the small unventilated space quickly being made toxic by her underwear. “Erm, there’s a bunch of buttons.” Sam shouted through the vent, “Six of them.” “Damn it.” Chrissy exclaimed in frustration. Patience never was her strong suit. “They’re different colours.” Sam continued, “Red, blue, green, purple, yellow and orange.” “Well there must be a clue in here somewhere…” Amy said thoughtfully, “Give us a minute, Sam.” Sam leaned against the wall with her upper back taking special care to keep her diaper area away from anything solid. As she listened to her friends searching the main room for clues she wondered about how things would change. Once they all left Midforest would they all respect her after everything they had seen her do? Could she just go back to “normal?” Did she even want to? The strange fact of the situation was that Sam, after all of the accidents she had suffered through had rarely felt as at peace with the world as she did right then. Her walls had fallen and she didn’t feel the desperate need to prove anything to anyone for the first time in her memory. She’d always thought being exposed, being shown up in any way as anything less than a totally mature adult, would be the end of her but it had happened, repeatedly, and she was still OK. If anything she was happier than ever before just to not be constantly on guard, it had allowed her to get closer to Nina so it couldn’t be all bad. “Alright Sam, we have an idea.” Amy yelled, “Try…” A sequence of buttons was read out and Sam dutifully pressed each one. Everyone watched the door expecting it to slide open but it didn’t. Instead, a new button lit up, one shining a bright white light from it. It was above the other ones and obscured by the darkness which was why Sam had missed it before. “Nothing?” Chrissy asked. “There’s a new button.” Sam said as she stretched and stood on tip-toes. It was just out of reach, “I can’t reach it.” “Hold on, I’m coming through.” Nina said. “No, I’m OK.” Sam replied, “I can do it.” Sam stretched as much as she could. She heard her diaper crinkle as she reached up and was just about able to touch the bottom of the panel that this new button was on. She gritted her teeth and stretched a little more. With her other hand she leant against the door. Finally, with one big effort she jumped and smacked the button with her hand. A lot of things then happened very quickly. Sam was essentially a passenger to events as time seemed to slow down to give her just enough time to realise everything that was happening. Firstly, it turned out that the laws of physics still applied and as she hit the button she was pushed backwards, it was only a slight movement but when she was already so off-balance it was all that was needed. She started to topple over backwards as the door she hand been resting her hand on quickly slid open. Sam’s eyes flew wide as she stumbled and was twisted around. She saw her three friends standing at the doorway and looking through to her, she reached out her two little arms but it was all for nothing. She started falling backwards. It seemed like it took an age for her to hit the floor but she landed in a sitting position with her heavily soiled diaper the only thing cushioning the drop. It felt like an explosion. The poop had piled into a lump since it had been deposited in the diaper but now it was rapidly flattened between the floor and Sam’s butt. The sticky mush shot in every direction. Sam could immediately feel the hot excrement heading up her lower back and around the front until it seemed liked she was entirely coated. For a horrifying minute she thought the diaper had burst or leaked but it seemed like the disposable still managed to hold. “Ugh…” Was all Sam could say. “Are you OK?” Nina asked quickly as she rushed forwards. She seemed to hit an invisible wall as the smell escaped the confined space. “Y-Yeah… I’m OK.” Sam said as she gingerly stood up. Sam was fine physically but that didn’t change the fact that her whole diaper area was now covered in her waste. She gingerly walked out of the small room and back into the properly lit main area, she saw Chrissy step back to give her a wide berth. Nina and Chrissy were looking down at Sam with concern and barely disguised disgust respectively. “Ah ha!” Amy suddenly exclaimed. Everyone jumped at the sudden noise. Thankfully Sam stayed on her feet this time and turned around to see Amy pointing at the back wall of the tiny area. With the light of the main room now flooding in they could all see a grid of numbers that had been previously hidden by the darkness. “The code must be in here somewhere.” Amy said as she brought a finger up to her mouth in thought. “Well can you find it quickly?” Chrissy asked. Her nose was wrinkled up. “Chrissy…” Nina hissed, “Can you show a little compassion?” “I’m sorry.” Chrissy replied, “I really am, but it smells so bad in here.” “Sorry.” Sam said quietly. “It’s alright.” Nina put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “Nobody blames you.” When Sam looked up she saw Chrissy open her mouth like she was about to disagree with Nina but then turned it into a big yawn at the last moment. She flashed Sam a quick smile before retreating to the furthest wall. Nina crouched down. “Don’t worry about her.” Nina said quietly, “No one’s angry or upset. It’s just…” “It stinks.” Sam replied, “Believe me I’m aware of that. Let’s just let Amy finish the puzzle and we can get out of here… Thank you.” “Why are you thanking me?” Nina asked. “Because… This would all be a lot worse without you here.” Sam replied honestly, “You’re the only thing keeping me together.” “Then I’m glad to be here.” Nina smiled widely. Sam was blushing as Nina stood up and they all looked at Amy who was still looking at the numbers and thinking. There was very little the rest of them could do as Amy had very much taken over. They were standing round for five minutes in near silence before Amy finally let out a squeal. She spun around and practically ran across to the main computer. She pressed four buttons and then a victory fanfare played. The countdown above the door cleared and was replaced by a large “Congratulations!” before the door clicked and swung open. Chrissy was the first to hurry out followed by Amy and Nina with Sam bringing up the rear. It turned out that the four girls were the last to complete their room. As they walked out they saw the other groups happily chatting about the fun they had. There were a few Midforest employees talking with people as well, Sam didn’t spend too long looking at them and kept her head tilted down at the floor. --- If you want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW at either of the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyymi677/chapter/46b25983-dac6-4652-a6e5-79fcde39757b https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1253965

Chapter 20: Euphemisms Mesmerized by what I was seeing, I watched Hannah swing for another minute. Once Emma had gotten her cousin started with a push, Hannah didn’t have any issues maintaining her momentum on the swing set. Hannah swung her legs back and forth in a rhythm that kept her flying high into the sky each time she swung toward me. Every time Hannah was vaulted up into the air by the swing, the wind seemed to catch her skirt without fail, lifting it up enough to give me a brief glimpse of what I was by now one hundred percent certain was a pull-up. I wondered if Hannah knew how little her outfit did to conceal the pull-up and if that was something that concerned her in any way. Emma was standing next to me in front of the swing set, but she had pulled out her phone and was tapping away at it. If Emma had gotten a glimpse of her cousin’s undergarments, she didn’t say anything to me. Despite the suspicion that I had heard some crinkling from Hannah as we walked to the park, I was still somewhat surprised to find that Hannah was wearing a pull-up. Emma’s tale about Hannah wetting herself on the couch – and her statement that she thought Hannah ought to be put back in diapers during the day as well as at night – had made it appear as though Hannah hadn’t been wearing any daytime protection. But I was certain my eyes hadn’t deceived me. I had accepted Emma’s statement about Hannah’s bedwetting without thinking too hard on the matter. After all, my sister had wet the bed until she was my age, and it was clear from the advertisements I’d seen that pull-ups were sold for bedwetters the same age as Hannah and me. So, finding out that a thirteen-year-old girl was still wetting the bed – though unusual – wasn’t a surprise. And, from what I’d learned recently in conversations with my parents and Grace, there seemed to be some clear medical explanations for why a kid my age could experience bedwetting. But this – a girl my age needing to wear a pull-up during the day – was something altogether different to consider. It was like that five- or six-year-old girl I had seen getting her pull-up changed at the mall last week, another shock to my preconceptions about pull-ups and who used them. But why? That was the question I couldn’t escape. Why would a girl my age have difficulty controlling her bladder while she was awake? I wanted to pee my pants, and even trying to get my body to do it intentionally took an insane amount of effort. Using the toilet was natural, and it took a lot of convincing to get my body to do otherwise. So, what was the deal with Hannah? I looked around the playground. It had been several years since I had lost interest in running through it. We weren’t the only people using the playground by far. There were a couple of younger kids on swings further down the line on the swing set, and behind us on the playground, and another dozen or so from toddlers to kids a couple years younger than others running around on different play sets and equipment. I cringed a little as Hannah’s skirt lifted up to flash her pull-up again. I found myself getting embarrassed at the thought of what anyone else at the park would think of Hannah – and by association, Emma and me – if they were to notice that Hannah was wearing a pull-up, and about the derogatory word Emma had used to describe her cousin on the way to the park. As my parents had explained from their own experience, bedwetting was a normal thing that could happen to any kid, so while it was still embarrassing to have my family view me as a bedwetter, I could handle that as it allowed me to get pull-ups for myself. I remember that Emma had mentioned that her cousin had autism as if that was a one-size-fits-all explanation for all of her strange behavior. That had to be the explanation for why the girl wasn’t smart enough to use the toilet, despite being a teenager. “Alight, she’s good now. Come on,” Emma said, looking up from her phone. “She’s perfectly fine playing by herself.” We walked a short way from the playground to a nearby soccer field that wasn’t being used. I sat down on the grass and switched over from my tennis shoes to the soccer cleats I had brought along in my bag. I considered the possibility of taking a pull-up or two from Hannah once we got back to Emmah’s house. If I hadn’t already begun my bedwetting plan, I was sure I could have arranged to spend the night at their place. That would have been a perfect chance to get some pull-ups and learn more about why Hannah needed them. But with my parents now thinking I was a bedwetter, and with them not having gotten me any pull-ups yet, that wasn’t an option. Besides, as impatient as I was getting for pull-ups – seeing another girl my age wearing them wasn’t helping – I felt certain that I would be getting some from my parents soon, so unless the perfect opportunity presented itself, it wasn’t worth risking it to get any from Hannah. These soccer fields were currently set up for elementary-age kids, so the soccer goals were a lot smaller than the full-sized ones we typically played on. But that worked well for playing simple games of one-on-one and for practicing being more accurate with our shots. It was a shame that Angie wasn’t around, as she would have been able to play goalie for us. Instead, Emma and I took turns attempting to block each other’s shots. I dribbled the soccer ball out past the penalty box, which, like the goal, was proportionally smaller than the field we played our games on. Emma positioned herself in the middle of the goal, a few feet off of the line. Behind her, Hannah was having fun by herself on the playground. She had moved on from the swing set. Now she was busy climbing on a massive, circular jungle gym. Twisting through the different rings and levels until she was near the top of the structure. I pushed the ball ahead of me to the right with the outside of my right foot before stepping ahead to line up a shot. I pulled my leg back as far as I could before swinging it forward. I wasn’t going to give Emma a chance to stop it from going into the net. In the distance, Hannah had reached the top of the jungle gym. Even from as far away as I was, it was still obvious that she wasn’t wearing normal underwear. That made me even more curious. Emma hadn’t seemed to have had any reservations in talking about all the issues she had with her cousin. I couldn’t see how Emma could have been unaware of her cousin wearing a pull-up. That brief moment of taking my eye off the goal caused me to send the shot well over the top. The soccer ball sailed in the air. “Seriously,” Emma said. “You would have missed that by a ton, even on a regular-sized goal.” I groaned and jogged past Emma. It was my responsibility to retrieve the ball since I had missed the shot. Hannah saw me approaching and slid down from on top of the jungle gym. She jogged up to grab the soccer ball, which had rolled a few feet onto the rubber surface of the playground. “I want to play soccer now,” she said, starting to walk with me toward the soccer field. I really wanted to say no. But Hannah hadn’t even phrased it as a question. By the time I had managed to think of a somewhat polite way to tell her to go back to the playground, we were already nearly back to the soccer field. Emma had taken advantage of the break to grab a water bottle from her bag. She had just finished drinking from it when Hannah and I returned. “Can I have some of your water?” Hannah asked her cousin. Emma pointed to the other side of the playground. “Go get something from the drinking fountain over there.” “I tried it. It’s too cold,” Hannah whined. “It makes my teeth hurt. Can I have yours instead?” “Fine,” Emma said. She didn’t look happy about it, but she handed the water bottle to Hannah nonetheless. Hannah pushed open the cap, and then raised the water bottle right up to her mouth, placing her lips on it. “No, no, no,” Emma said, snatching the bottle out of her cousin’s grip. “Don’t be gross. I don’t want your germs on my water bottle.” Hannah stomped both of her feet on the ground. “That’s not fair. I need something to drink.” I winced at the sound of her high-pitched whining, but I wasn’t going to offer her my water bottle. I didn’t want anyone’s germs on it, either. “You can have my water bottle,” Emma said. “But you need to pour the water into your mouth.” Hannah crossed her arms. “I can’t do that. It will spill.” Emma tilted her head back and demonstrated for her cousin, pouring water from the bottle into her mouth without having her lips touch it. “That’s how you do it.” Emma handed the water bottle back to her cousin. Hannah hesitantly raised the bottle in the air, but she didn’t have it aimed correctly at her mouth. When she squeezed the water bottle to get a drink, the water instead sprayed all across her face and dripped down onto her shirt. Emma looked as though she was having a hard time suppressing a laugh as she watched her cousin struggle to line up the water bottle for another attempt at taking a drink. The second attempt didn’t go any better than the first. And now Hannah’s face and shirt were all wet. “I can’t do it,” Hannah pouted. She looked like she was going to start crying. “Fine,” Emma said. “Drink it however you want. You can have the rest of it.” Hannah raised the bottle to her lips and sucked on it almost like a sippy up. “See what I have to deal with,” Emma said to me quietly. “She whines like a baby when she doesn’t get what she wants. If I hadn’t given her the water bottle, she would have been tattling on me to my mom and aunt when we got home.” “All done,” Hannah announced. She handed the now-empty water bottle back to Emma. “Why don’t you go back to the playground,” Emma said. “Maddy and I are going to play soccer for a little while more, and then we will head back home.” “I can play soccer, too,” Hannah said. I watched as Emma started to say something and then bit her lip. I remembered what she had said just earlier about how she was supposed to be accommodating to her cousin. “Yes, that would be nice,” Emma said flatly. “Awesome!” Hannah yelled. She walked up to one of the soccer balls and kicked it toward the goal, putting it straight down the middle. Hannah turned around proudly toward us. “See.” “Yeah, and I would have blocked it if I was playing goalie,” Emma said with a wave of her hand. We decided to play a game called World Cup. The rules were simple. One person would guard the goal while the other two players competed against each other to score a goal. Whoever scored had to take the next turn at playing goalie. The game started off with Emma standing in the goal. She threw the ball out toward the middle of the field, and Hannah and I raced off to get it. Hannah was unexpectedly fast for how awkward her running form was. She made it to the ball first and began to turn to dribble back toward the goal. I backpedaled a little as I kept myself in front of Hannah, waiting for her to lose control so I could step in and easily poke the ball away from her. But, to my surprise, she was handling the ball much better than I had anticipated. Still, as she neared the top of the penalty box, I swung my foot forward, thinking I was going to get an easy steal, but instead of making contact with the ball, my cleated foot swung harmlessly through the air, and I nearly lost my balance. I didn’t know how Hannah had managed to evade me, but I turned to see her spinning past me, all while maintaining perfect control of the soccer ball with her feet. She took a shot at the goal and put it past Emma and into the corner of the net. She jumped up and down in celebration, again showing off the pull-up she was wearing. Emma started laughing at me. “I can’t believe you fell for that move.” “You’re the one who let it in the goal,” I retorted. “Only cause I was too distracted by you spinning in a circle.” I made Emma pay for that comment by stealing the ball from her and getting a goal of my own. Hannah’s goalkeeping skills weren’t anywhere near the level of her dribbling, so that wasn’t as much of a challenge. We continued our game for another twenty minutes or so, though the question of who was the winner was never really in doubt. Hannah had easily scored more goals than either Emma or me. It made more sense when she mentioned that she played the forward position on her school team back in Illinois. After scoring another goal, it was my turn to guard the goal while the two cousins faced off against each other again. I punted the ball gently, sending it out for them to chase after it. Hannah again reached the ball first and managed to keep it away from her cousin until she was closer to the goal. Hannah sidestepped deftly past Emma, but before Hannah could get the shot off, Emma shoved Hannah off of the ball with her hip, causing Hannah to fall to the ground. I was so caught off guard by the move that I wasn’t ready for Emma’s shot, which sailed past me untouched into the goal. Emma did an exaggerated celebration, sliding down on her knees on the grass. The way she had been so aggressive toward her cousin shocked me. No hard fouls was one of the unspoken rules we had when we were practicing. As Hannah lay on the ground for a moment, I got a much closer look at her pull-up than before. It did appear as though she had managed to keep it dry so far. After a few seconds, Hannah stood up awkwardly, brushing off her skirt as she did so. Beep. Beep. Beep. The timer on Hannah’s watch began to go off. Unlike when we had been back at Emma’s house, Hannah didn’t rush off to use the restroom. She tapped frantically at her watch, finally getting the alarm to shut off. Hannah got into position next to me as Emma grabbed the ball to walk toward the goal. Emma looked over at her cousin. “Aren’t you going to take your potty break?” “I can wait until we’re home,” Hannah insisted. “Hannah,” Emma said. “Your mom did tell me to make sure that you went if your watch went off while we were out.” Hannah glanced over at the center of the park. “I’m not going in a porta potty. Those are gross.” “Whatever,” Emma said. “I suppose you are wearing a diaper today, so it doesn’t matter if you pee your pants.” “I’m wearing a skirt, not pants,” Hannah said. “And they’re absorbent underwear, not a diaper. Only babies wear diapers, and I’m not a baby.” I recognized the euphemism from how the pull-ups were often described in the advertisements I had seen. I had always found the phrase to be really silly. Who would actually think those undergarments were underwear rather than just another version of a diaper? “Whatever,” Emma muttered quietly, rolling her eyes after turning away from her cousin. “Same difference.” Emma returned to stand in front of the goal before again through the ball out for Hannah and me to chase. We went through a few more rounds before deciding it was time to head back home. Emma and I sat down to change from our cleats back to our tennis shoes for the walk back to her house. Hannah was still dribbling a soccer ball absentmindedly in the field behind us. “Are you free to do anything else this afternoon?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what answer I wanted. There was part of me that was curious about Hannah’s need for pull-ups and another part of me that really didn’t want to spend any more time around that weirdo than was necessary. “Sorry, we’ve got plans to do stuff with Hannah’s family this evening,” Emma said. “But we could do something tomorrow.” “What are we doing tomorrow?” Hannah had snuck back up on us completely unnoticed. “We could play soccer again. Please?” “I think it is supposed to be raining tomorrow,” I said, as we started to walk down the path out of the park. “Then we can stay inside and watch a Harry Potter movie.” “That would be fun,” I said automatically, without thinking about it. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I saw Emma just glare at me. I then remembered how she had warned me not to bring that topic up. What followed was an incredibly detailed interrogation from Hannah. “What House would you be in? What is your favorite character? What movie do you like best? Should Harry have ended up with Ginny? What would your patronus look like?” I barely had time to answer dozens of rapid-fire questions before Hannah jumped onto the next one. There finally was a brief pause, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness that was over. I was mistaken. The next thing I knew, Hannah was talking about some Harry Potter fanfiction she had read on a website I hadn’t ever heard of before. Emma had slowed down, and was now trailing a dozen feet or so behind us to try to avoid the conversation. I hadn’t even realized that people writing their own versions of those stories were even a thing. She was talking at one-hundred miles an hour, with just the shortest of pauses to catch her breath as she detailed her favorite alternative plot, which somehow involved Hermione and Malfoy becoming friends. It was so bizarrely outlandish, but there wasn’t a chance for me to step in and ask any questions. Hannah paused her rambling mid-sentence as we were about a half-block away from Emma’s house. She then took off in a straight sprint, cutting across several yards rather than remaining on the sidewalk. “You know,” Emma said as she caught up to me. “You can’t say that I didn’t warn you about bringing up that topic.” Ahead of us, Hannah came to an awkward stop about halfway up the driveway to Emma’s house, when she suddenly frozen mid-sprint and stood with her legs crisscrossed. She remained frozen in place for about fifteen seconds before walking slowly up toward the house. “Yep, looks like she just pissed herself again,” Emma said with derision. “Such a baby.” --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

Chapter 8 : My First Stream! This is it, my JJ Little Diaper Babies. The very first stream of JillianPlays. Excited? Well, don’t be. If you were to see this very first stream, it’s really nothing to write home about. While a lot of you are used to seeing an audience of 50-60,000, the actual audience was…drum roll please…a sizable audience of just…two. And these numbers do not even include me, the broadcaster. But before we get to the “wonderful and exciting stream that started it all”, we need to hit fast forward from where we last left off. When I woke up that Wednesday after the Fourth, I felt a little bit better. Yes, I humiliated myself the night before, but it’s a new day. And to greet the new day with me, my twin sister Jen entered the room and gave me a big hug. When she did this, I just couldn’t hold in the tears anymore, so I cried my eyes out. My sister remained in her embrace, trying to calm and console me from the night before. “There there Jill…” she told me. “It’s going to be alright. Just…stop. Please stop. You’re…doing it to me now. Now I’M crying! Oh Jill!!!!” I watched as a stream of tears began to come out of my sister’s eyes. “It will…get…better, Jill. Take the rest of the week off…before you look for work…*sniff*. I want you to be healthy…*sniff *sniff* “ I held Jen in a sisterly embrace as I wanted her to stop crying. I then realized that my diaper was totally soaked, and I needed to get a shower. So, I excused myself and got a shower. My sister nodded as I got up and left my room to clean up. And…yeah. Wednesday was just another chill day. I really didn’t feel like doing much, so I didn’t. I just ate and sat in my room all day, looking at some occasional texts from Gary, updating me on his Fourth of July and how it went. And before I knew it, it was Wednesday night. I diapered myself once again (12 diapers left! I’m going to need to buy some more soon…), did my nighttime routine of hygiene, hugged my sister Jen goodnight, and went to bed. Now for the day that you’re probably all waiting for. The day that I did my stream. Considering that I wanted the same schedule every day that I streamed, I decided to start my stream at 3:00, since most people coming home from work could catch my stream that way. Now my sister Jen had already left her house since Joey was back home. She was going to be spending the rest of the day there, and come back home later. Gary too, was on his way to my apartment since he came home yesterday. Even though he knew about my wearing diapers now, I still felt self-conscious about them around Gary. I had everything in my closet, including all of my trash. About seven minutes after 1:00, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and it was Gary. As he walked in, I noticed that he was carrying two bags…from Walgreens? He…he…he didn’t…My face turned red with embarrassment. Gary looked at me with a face that reflected respect. “Jill,” he told me. “I got you a couple of things that you need. I know how expensive they are, so I wanted to help you out. Do you wear medium?” I shyly nodded. “Y-yes…” Gary placed the two bags in my hands. “Here. Go and take care of these. I’m not going to watch you do this. It’s the least I can do…” I blushed and smiled at the same time and looked at Gary. “Um…” I stammered. “Thanks…Gary…” Gary understandingly nodded. “Jill, I already told you. My younger sister had to deal with this every single day. She was very self-conscious about it so we never made a big deal about it in my family. So, I get it. Take care of those and return when you’re ready, okay?” I nodded and entered my room with the diapers that Gary got for me. I closed the door and took the sacks out of the bag. I gasped, my jaw hitting the floor. They were the same Certainty unisex fitted briefs that I bought for myself before! With each of them containing 32, that gave me 64 more diapers. And to include the 12 that I had left, that gave me a total of 76 diapers. So much for buying more diapers since my boyfriend already took care of that. I opened the closet and placed both sacks inside, along with the Walgreens bags. I then closed the closet door. I then exited the room again. My patient boyfriend stood there as I returned from my embarrassing errand. He then gave me a serious look. “Jill,” he addressed me like it was a life-or-death situation. “I know that you’re not going to like this, but I want you to promise me something…” My stomach sank, as I knew what Gary was going to make me promise. “What is that…Gary?” Gary continued looking seriously and arched his face closer to me. “Jill, I want you to promise me that you will be wearing diapers the next time that we go on a date. I don’t want you to ever be embarrassed like that again. Take some extra ones with you and you can change in the bathroom. Don’t worry about the trash. Just take it to my car and I will take care of it. They will just think that you’re using the bathroom, okay?” I nodded, my face now growing red again. I thought about sharing my weird dream with Gary, but I just didn’t feel comfortable sharing that with him yet. “Yes Gary….I don’t want to be embarrassed like that. Every date, I will wear protection for you, and for everyone else’s sake that doesn’t know about my secret….Now, can we get ready for my first stream? It starts in about 1 hour and 45 minutes…” Gary nodded, and we both entered my room. He got out his laptop from his laptop bag that he was also carrying and powered it up. “Jill, take a look at this…” I glanced at Gary’s screen, and I saw the Discord website that Gary showed me the other day. He showed me a Discord that he set up just for JillianPlays (my Twitch channel!). He made me the administrator and he showed me how to make him just a moderator on my laptop. After Gary showed me that, we talked a little bit about the Fourth of July. Gary looked at me with concern. “What happened, Jill? After that night of the Fourth, I didn’t hear anything from you all Wednesday and even this morning!” I sighed, and shared with him my most embarrassing Fourth of July evening ever. You have already heard it in its entirety so it doesn’t bear repeating here. It’s literally everything that I mentioned in the previous chapter. Upon sharing this, Gary hugged me. “Jill…” he said, gasping. “Now I’m glad that I got you them. It looks like your accidents are starting to become more frequent…But let’s drop all this. We need to get ready for the stream. Now, what game do you want to play?” My face lit up. “Super Mario Bros.!” I shouted. “I want to start with an easy game that I know how to play. I can add others in the future.” Gary nodded. “Good idea, Jill! Now, I’m going to get onto my GaretheBear account. I will wait until you go live before I subscribe to you. Now remember. Twitch gives you default follower and subscriber emotes to use if you don’t have any customs. Now, I helped you make a follower alert and subscriber alert, so you should be all set for the stream. Are you ready, Jill?” I smiled, looking a little nervous. “I think I am…” Gary grinned. “Don’t worry. I was like that when I first started GaretheBear. Just pretend you’re going on television. That’s what you want to do for a living, right?” I nodded. “Right! This is my broadcast!” My confidence increased as I remembered occasionally serving as a co-anchor during my internship at Cleveland State University. When I did this, I was in the zone. I was fully confident and I sounded very polished and professional. Yeah. I guess I don’t feel that nervous now… It was now 2:30. One half hour remained before my first stream began… So, here we go, my JJ Little bestie Fam. 3:00 came around and the clicked the “Go Live” button for the very first time. For the “Starting Soon” screen, I had a remixed version of the song “Caramelldansen” playing. To accompany the song, a GIF of two stick figures dancing were displayed. In bold white font, the words “Starting Soon” were displayed. During this time, I went with Gary to get my drinks ready. A can of Mountain Dew and a plastic water bottle filled with ice water. After getting my drinks, I rushed off to the bathroom. I had to go, but not as bad as when I was on the embarrassing flight to Cleveland. I returned with my drinks to find Gary at his laptop. I grinned and pointed at the drinks that he was holding. “Did you go to the bathroom?” Gary nodded. “I used the other bathroom while you were going. It’s 3:06! We’re ready to go!” I took a deep breath and selected the scene that showed the webcam. Gary already tested the webcam the day that I got my computer so it was displayed properly. I saw the red live indicator on my end, which I remembered seeing when Gary went live on his channel as GaretheBear. “Hey everyone!” I shouted. “I am JillianPlays and welcome to my very first stream! I have never done one of these before, so please bare with me…” I paused, and checked the chat window. When I looked at the attendees, there were three others besides me, the broadcaster: JennyPenny2001 (nice Twitch name, sis), JtheCalcugamer (Gary whispered to me that this was Joey), and, of course, GaretheBear. So yeah, my JJ Littles. I actually lied to you when I said that it was just me and Gary. My sister, her boyfriend, and Gary were all there to watch me stream on my very first day. Of course my sister was at Joey’s house, but was tuning in there. I watched the chat: JennyPenny2001: You’re doing great, sis! I’m so proud of you! GaretheBear: Wonderful job, Jillian! Now, let’s play something! JtheCalcugamer: Can’t wait to see what you’re going to play! Both Jenny and I are rooting for you… *pogchamp emote* *GaretheBearCheer emote* Right after that, I heard the soundbyte music clip from Imagine Dragons. The soundclip that played was “You know I’ll follow you!” GaretheBear just followed me! I then heard the level completion music from Super Mario Bros. and I glanced at the chat screen. Garethebear subscribed to JillianPlays at tier level 1! My first sub! Yay! After that, I heard the “You know I’ll follow you!” two more times. One was from JennyPenny2001. The other was from JtheCalcugamer. “JennyPenny2001 and JtheCalcugamer!” I shouted. “Thank you both for the follow! I really freaking appreciate it! Three follows in the first couple minutes and one subscriber. You all are awesome.” Then I heard the Super Mario Bros. level completion music again. GaretheBear just gifted two tier 1 subs to the community! Since JennyPenny2001 and JtheCalcugamer were not subscribed, they both received those subs. Yay! Three subs now! I looked at the time. 3:17. Since I didn’t have anything else to talk about, I decided to start gaming. Prior to starting, Gary showed me about categories. Since my category was on Just Chatting, I changed it to Super Mario Bros. and included the stream title: “Starting my first stream with my first NES game!” As I switched to my Switch input, I sized the webcam and sized it smoothly into the upper left corner. I then placed the chat screen right below it, making sure it was sized to the same width as the webcam screen. I also wanted to make sure that it didn’t cover up my gameplay too much. I then checked the chat: JtheCalcugamer: Nice! A classic! JennyPenny2001: Super Mario Bros.? Calc showed me this and I could never finish it. I died in World 4 and never finished it! *LUL emote* GaretheBear: Ah…Good ol’ Super Mario Bros.! I LOVE this one! Dad showed me this one when I was very young. Played through it until the very end. Very nice classic to start with! “It is!” I said with a smile as I loaded the Nintendo Entertainment System channel on the Nintendo Switch Menu. I selected Super Mario Bros. and started. “We are going to start with a game that I am very familiar with playing. This is Super Mario Bros. It was released in 1985 and one of the first platforming games for the Nintendo Entertainment System, or the Famicom in Japan. For all of you watching me today, I am going to complete all 8 Worlds WITHOUT rewinding or using Save States. And having recently learned about warping, I will not use any warps. Who’s ready to watch me tear this game apart?” I glanced at the chat: GaretheBear: Go JillianPlays! JennyPenny2001: You can do it, sis! JtheCalcugamer: Go Jillian! Jenny and I know that you can do it! And with that, I started my very first game. I pressed the start button and began. At this point, nothing eventful has happened so far. At least not until I got to WORLD 1-4. Just as I passed the second fire chain and was about to go through the third fire chain, I backed up and checked the chat: Glytter: You’re playing Super Mario Bros.? Wow! I can remember playing that on my mom and dad’s old NES with my older sister and older brother growing up! I can remember playing this when I wasn’t coloring in my coloring book! *TinyTrishGiggle emote* I paused the game and smiled. “Glytter!” I shouted. “Welcome to the stream! I am JillianPlays. I hope that you are having a wonderful day today!” I unpaused the game and continued through the castle. I casually watched the chat in the background: JennyPenny2001: Welcome to the stream, Glytter! GaretheBear: It seems like you know a lot about this game already, Glytter! Welcome! Glytter: JillianPlays, is this your first time playing? Between me, my sister, and my brother, I have seen this game get beat numerous times. I can distinctly remember my dad beating this game a couple of times when I was very young… I skillfully roasted the fake Bowser with my fire Mario and finished WORLD 1-4. “Actually Glytter, the answer is no.” I told them. “I have just beat this game recently without rewinding or save states. I chose this game as it is a wonderful way to open my first stream ever…” The chat then continued: Glytter: First…stream…EVER?!!!! *TinyTrishGasp emote* I nodded. “That’s what I said. Despite my hardships with all the rewinds, I find this to be a very fun game to play. I at first was just very put off by the super outdated graphics. But after some encouragement from a friend and some research, I realize what an important game this was in shaping the future of the Super Mario Bros. franchise…” I talked on, as I continued through WORLD 2-1 and WORLD 2-2. When I got to WORLD 2-3, I heard the “You know I’ll follow you!” from Imagine Dragons again. “Glytter!” I shouted. “Thank you very much for the follow! I truly appreciate it!” Glytter, of course, was very quite to respond: Glytter: You’re welcome! And awesome follow alert! I LOVE Imagine Dragons! Glytter: Are these your follower emotes? Very default and kind of basic. If you ever need any help designing any new ones, I would be more than happy to help! I nodded and gasped, as I approached the flag for WORLD 2-3. “You DESIGN emotes? Have you done this before?” I started WORLD 3-1 as I waited for Glytter’s response, which came in a couple of seconds: Glytter: Yes Jillian. I’ve done this a couple times. You see, I don’t like to follow the super popular Twitch Streamers. I like to find the newest and smallest ones. If this is your first stream, then it looks like I hit the jackpot! GaretheBear: Indeed you have, Glytter! We enjoy having you around. Now, I’m a somewhat established streamer that has a more established following, and I don’t think I have ever seen you in one of my streams. Glytter: Let’s see, GaretheBear. How many followers do you have? You have…3,000? That’s a little too big for me. I like the streams to be much smaller… GaretheBear: I still average an audience of around 40-45. Do you just prefer an audience of 10 or less? I’m not against that at all, Glytter. Whatever makes you happy, just go for it! Glytter: One of my friends has an audience of about 15. Her largest audience was around 20 once… I continued through Super Mario Bros. with my reflection on the gameplay and how much fun it was to play through it for the first time. I noticed that while JennyPenny2001 (Jen), JtheCalcugamer (Joey), and GaretheBear (Gary) was just watching now, Glytter just kept chattering. I had nothing against their wonderful comments. I just wasn’t used to this with streaming quite yet. Glytter had something to say with every stretch of the level that I played. I was now on WORLD 4-4, and the one-sided chat with Glytter continued: Glytter: Wow! 4-4! Well, you’ve played this one before, so you already know that it’s a maze. Glytter: Yeah. I kind of know everything about this game. For someone like me, it’s kind of hard to forget considering that I have a photographic memory. GaretheBear: No way! Photographic memory? Glytter: Yes. It can be annoying at times, but I’m kind of used to it. I basically remember every detail about my life. And this may sound weird…I remember the day that I was born… JennyPenny2001: Really? Are these real memories or false ones that you thought that you remembered? Glytter: They are indeed real! I have described vivid details to my mom. Of course, since I slept most of the time at first, I can’t really describe those ones. Like, when I first learned to walk, I can remember every detail of that day. I could tell mom what shirt she was wearing and exactly what she told me. And although she was shocked, she agreed. JennyPenny2001: Okay…I just looked this up. Do you have superior autobiographical memory? There are only 60 people in the entire world that can remember that much! Glytter: Well, they missed me! I can remember what it felt like to be taken home from the hospital on the very first day of my life. I really don’t have any words to describe it. It was just…feelings and senses… JennyPenny2001: Well, that’s really impressive, Glytter. It must be interesting to remember everything… Glytter: Well, I’m kind of used to it now. It would come in handy if I ever wanted to write a book someday…Wow! Jill just finished 4-4! JtheCalcugamer: That’s pretty neat, Glytter. Being able to remember everything must be helpful in your day to day, right? Glytter: It can be! If someone gives me a set of instructions, I don’t forget a single detail! And if you read off a shopping list, I wouldn’t need to write it down! I smiled, and I quickly leafed through the chat. “Wow! A photographic memory? Well, you could help me with some things since my memory is not really that good sometimes! Anyway, WORLD 5-2 is the level with the stupid hammer brother. So, my fellow audience, let’s see if I can dodge it. Just then, Glytter’s two cents was added: Glytter: 5-2? Yeah. I hate that hammer brother! No matter who was playing, I, my younger sister, and my younger brother always died to that hammer brother! If we were lucky, we would be able to get past him and get to the next level. Of course, I’m much better at the game now so it’s not that bad… I fortunately dodged the hammer brother and turned back to shoot him with a fireball from my Fire Mario. “That was for all of you!” I told them. “And for you, Glytter! For all the times in your childhood when you, your sister, and brother had to die to that hammer brother. Well, the joke is on him now! I killed the other three hammer brothers in the level and finished WORLD 5-2. Just after I finished it, I heard the level clear music again. What? I just finished the level! I then glanced at the chat and gasped. “Glytter! Thank you for subscribing at tier level 1! Enjoy the emotes!” As I entered WORLD 5-3, I saw Glytter’s response: Glytter: Jillian, or can I call you Jill? You have a wonderful voice! I like the way that you describe everything as you go through the level. It’s like you’re announcing everything like it’s an important news item. You have earned the sub. But I noticed that you don’t have a tier 2 or tier 3 yet. I also noticed that the emotes for tier 1 are just more default emotes. Can we talk after the stream? I would like to help with the emotes! I nodded as I finished up WORLD 5-3. I proceed to finish the rest of the game, while Glytter quite frequently added their comments. When I got to WORLD 8-4, I kept my Fire Mario and killed Bowser. “We did it!” I shouted. “First stream ever and I beat Super Mario Bros. for all of you. That calls for a Mountain Dew!” I cracked open the can and chugged a Mountain Dew in front of my audience of still four. I glanced at the clock and sipped some water to wash down the sugary Mountain Dew. It’s 4:06. Only five hours left in the stream… I exited the game, which showed the library of NES games for Nintendo Switch Online. “So, what do you want me to tackle next?” I looked at the responses in the chat: GaretheBear: Lost Levels (Super Mario Bros. 2 JP)! *pogchamp emote* JennyPenny2001: Lost Levels? JtheCalcugamer: I could go for some Lost Levels! Glytter: Are you sure about this, Jillian? The Lost Levels are pretty hard. Maybe you should try the easier Super Mario Bros. 2? I shook my head and vetoed Glytter’s decision. “Sorry Glytter, you are in the minority.” I sighed. “Lost Levels it is! But here are the rules, my JillianPlays fam. Since I am totally horrible at this game, I will be using rewinds and Save States. Maybe I will do it without someday. But just bare with me for now, okay?” I saw a series of okays from the chat and began playing the Lost Levels. I spent the next hour slowing plowing through the first four worlds. They were still very hard. As hard as I could remember playing with Gary. Glytter didn’t have much to say about the Lost Levels, since she never played all of them. As I began WORLD 5-1, I noticed that all that Mountain Dew that I drank started to catch up with me. I had to pee! I was going to finish this level and then take a bathroom break. Having never done this level before, it was rather annoying. First of all, I had to dodge four buzzy beetles. I then had to kill numerous piranha plants in narrow pipes. Three of these piranha plants were poking out of pipes over cliffs! I had to pick each one off before moving forward. So, several rewinds later, I managed to do this. I then had to dodge a poorly placed bullet bill just in time. I walked up the stairs where I thought it was the ending. But I was…WRONG! The wind started to blow and I had to run and jump from ledge to ledge over three cliffs (this took a few more rewinds). I really had to pee at this point! I then had to dodge another bullet bill and kill an upside down piranha plant and a right-side up piranha plant sticking out of pipes that were opposite each other (one was on the ceiling and the other was facing up on the ground right below it. After that, I had to kill four more piranha plants sticking out of floor pipes and keep running and running until I reached another cliff. I jumped over it and found a bottom of a cliff that was a dead end…or was it? Looking more uncomfortable, I found two invisible blocks and reached the top of the cliff and crossed the top of it until I jumped over another pipe and found the goal flag. I hit the goal and pressed the home button on my Pro Controller. “Everyone,” I addressed my stream audience. “I really really have to pee. I’m going to use the little girl’s room, and we will continue with WORLD 5-2 when I get back. Okay? I’ll be right back!” I got up from my seat and Gary looked up and nodded. “I hope you make it this time, Jill!” I kept hurrying outside my room and ran towards the bathroom. I opened the door and closed it behind me. My pressure on my bladder was intense at this point… “Please God…” I prayed. I felt a few drops beginning to drip into my underwear as I pulled my pants down. I sat on the toilet and heard the rush of pee enter the toilet. Phew! I didn’t quite make it but it wasn’t as bad as last time! About a minute later, I was done peeing. I finished up and flushed the toilet. I washed my hands and returned to my room. I sat down at my desk and I checked out the chat: GaretheBear: Okay Jill! JennyPenny2001: Hurry Jill! JtheCalcugamer: We saw you drink that Mountain Dew like a pro earlier. Hurry to the bathroom, but take your time after that! Glytter: Uh-oh! I hope that you make it, Jill! Glytter: Did she make it? I hope that she did! *TinyTrishHopeful emote* Glytter: This is not bad for a first stream. I really like Jill’s personality! I would like to start designing her emotes, but I need her permission first. JennyPenny2001: Do you? I’m her sister! Do you want me to ask her? Glytter: I can ask her! I want to talk to her after stream. Is there a Discord? GaretheBear: There IS a Discord for JillianPlays. The link can be found here [Discord Link] Or, you could just type the command !discord and it will give you the link. Glytter: Thanks! Just clicked on the link and joined the Discord. I’m going to be lurking now, but still watching. I’ll be back in a bit… JillianPlays: Yes chat! I did make it to the bathroom! *pogchamp emote* Well, that’s all that they really need to know, as I could still feel a slight dampness from those few drops of pee on my underwear that didn’t quite make it into the toilet. After finishing my response to the chat, I continued the game, starting on WORLD 5-2. About an hour later, I was on WORLD 8. Man, were these levels hard! Even with the rewind, they were really hard. I made another save state and continued. I went down a pipe, swam through an underwater area, and found a Warp Zone that took me to World…5? What?! A warp zone that took you backwards? How mean can this game be? I reloaded my save state to restart WORLD 8-1 and took another path to the end of the level. WORLD 8-2 was tricky. I kept ending up at the beginning of the level and the wind was annoying. Eventually, I saw a red koopa paratroopa floating up and down underneath a brick. I hit the brick and found a beanstalk! I climbed it up and it took me to the clouds. This was also where I found the goal of the level! WORLD 8-3 was a level in the clouds, with some tricky jumps. After numerous rewinds, I finished it. That only left one level. WORLD 8-4. WORLD 8-4 took a while. But after I figured out where to go, I found the real Bowser, and killed him with my fireball. I then saw Princess Toadstool again. “We did it!” I told the chat. “The Lost Levels is beat! For me, it’s the very first time that I have done this! Now let’s…” I watched as the screen changed to WORLD 9-1. Try to do it in one game? “One game?” I said with a frown. I then read the chat. GaretheBear: One game is one life. The translation is not very good. I paused the game as I felt my stomach growling. “Well, with it being 6:22, we are overdue for a 20 minute break! Use this break to stretch, eat, and do whatever you need! We will be back at 6:42!” I changed to the “We will be right back screen” and added a 20-minute timer so that the audience could see the time remaining until I return to the stream. Gary and I used this time to stretch and have some pizza rolls that I had in the freezer. We made about 20 for each of us and we helped ourselves to the hot, savory, pizza-filled goodness. Gary looked at me and smiled. “So far, you’re doing pretty well!” I ate one of my last five pizza rolls and smiled. “Thanks Gary! I’m really having fun with the games and the chat.” “And Glytter!” Gary added. “What do you think of Glytter, Jill?” I smiled when Gary brought up that fun user that always had something to say. There was something different about this user. Was Glytter a male or a female? I need to find that out after the break! “I like Glytter!” I told Gary. “I don’t know whether Glytter is a he or a she, but we will find that out. With how often Glytter talks, I want Glytter to be one of my mods.” Gary nodded and finished his last pizza roll. “Good call, Jill! Now, you just have World 9 to play through for the Lost Levels. There are Worlds A-D, but to unlock them, you need to beat the game 8 times! Then you need to hold A on the controller and press start on the controller. If done right, you will start World A! I think you should at least start The Legend of Zelda after this. Just start a new game for the stream.” I nodded. “Got it!” I then thought of Worlds A-D. “Would I be beating this before tomorrow and then start from those Worlds?” Gary nodded. “That would make the most sense, instead of making your viewers watch you beat the game 8 times. Now it would be easier with warps, but that’s still very tedious…” I glanced at the time and gasped. “6:40! We got two minutes! We’ll finish World 9 and I’ll take a quick bathroom break. I don’t have to go that bad this time. Then we’ll start The Legend of Zelda…” Gary nodded, as I slammed the last pizza roll into my mouth. We both entered my room as the last minute was counting down. After it counted down to zero, I changed inputs back to the webcam and the Nintendo Switch. “Welcome back!” I told my audience, which was still four. “Are you all ready for WORLD 9?” I saw yeah’s in the chat. I played through all of WORLD 9. It didn’t really take too long, but it was quite weird. The first two levels were underwater. The third level was a castle level. The final level was underwater, with a pattern of coins that I had no clue what it meant. “What does this mean?” I said with a frown. I checked the chat. GaretheBear: It’s supposed to mean “Arigato!” That’s Japanese for “Thank You!” Athecalcugamer: Yeah. Arigato is Japanese for Thank You. What they’re basically saying is “Thank you for playing this game”. Glytter: What they said! I don’t know any Japanese. But wow! Congratulations for completing this game! I smiled when I heard this. “But I’m NOT finished!” I told my chat. See the title screen? For each time that I beat the game, I get a new star! But I need to beat the game eight times to unlock four more worlds! Now, I’m not going to do this on stream. I will beat the game seven more times off stream and will show you the last four worlds next time. For the last two hours, I am up for suggestions on what to play next! I checked the chat: GaretheBear: How about The Legend of Zelda? JtheCalcugamer: That’s a good one! Legend of Zelda! JennyPenny2001: Legend of Zelda! Glytter: Legend of Zelda! My older sister and I played it a couple of times, but my older brother played it the most! I glanced at the chat with a puzzled look on my face. “Glytter,” I addressed the mysterious user. “I’m actually very curious, but are you male or female?” Within seconds, I saw Glytter’s reply: Glytter: Jill, I am female! Two X chromosomes! Been female since the day that God made me! I smiled when I saw this. So this Glytter is female? That makes so much sense now. That is so cool! Another girl gamer to talk about gaming! And yeah. I am DEFINITELY making Glytter a mod. I’ll discuss it with her on Discord after stream… I glanced back at the chat. “Well, the votes are in and The Legend of Zelda wins by a landslide!” I exited The Lost Levels and loaded The Legend of Zelda. “The Legend of Zelda was a game before our time. It was first released in 1986 on the Famicom Disk System. A year later, it was released in 1987 on the Nintendo Entertainment System. It was one of the first open world action adventure game of its kind, and the franchise still survives to this day, with the most recent entry being Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. Everyone, this is my first ever Legend of Zelda game. I have no idea what I’m doing so I am going to be getting a lot of help from my friend GaretheBear. He knows the game and will be helping me when I’m stuck. So are we ready to get started? Then let’s go and begin The Legend of Zelda!” I started a game and named myself Jill in the second file. I got the sword just like before and spent the remaining two hours going through the first three dungeons. And that was it. My first ever JillianPlays stream was coming to an end. Before I clicked on the red “End Stream” button, I wanted to say my goodbyes to my audience that was still four. “Thank you all very much for supporting me on my very first stream! I enjoyed playing through Super Mario Bros., The Lost Levels, and starting on The Legend of Zelda! I will finish The Lost Levels tomorrow and continue on The Legend of Zelda. And, who knows? We’ll get to the easier Super Mario Bros. 2 soon enough! So to all of you, farewell my JillianPlays fam! This is JillianPlays saying peace out! Bye everyone!” I clicked the “End Stream” button and just like that, my first stream was officially done. So, my JJ Little Baby Besties, if you thought that you would be seeing thousands of people on the first stream, you thought wrong. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but yeah. My first stream had just my boyfriend, my twin sister, her boyfriend, and a new girl user named Glytter. So you may think that this chapter is over since the stream is over, but not quite, my JJ Little Fam. We still need to address my conversation with Glytter. With the stream over, I went over to Discord. To my surprise, I already saw a Private Message from Glytter. I looked at her first message and we began the exchange back and forth: Glytter: Hi Jill! JillianPlays: Hi Glytter! I just finished the stream so I can talk to you now. How are you doing? Glytter: Great! I’m actually very tired so we’ll want to make this quick. JillianPlays: Oh, we will! I’m pretty tired myself. I just have a couple of questions. Glytter: Certainly Jill! I would be more than happy to answer them! JillianPlays. First of all, how old are you? I am 21 years old and will be 22 in August. Glytter: 22? Is that all? Jill, I am actually 23 years old. So, just a little bit older than you. JillianPlays: That’s a relief. I’m trying to keep the demographic about 18 and up, but with a cozy vibe. No swearing, as I know that’s not good for building an audience. Glytter: It isn’t. I’m glad that you’re choosing not to swear on your stream! Now, I’m too tired to work on them tonight but I would like to work on your emotes. JillianPlays: Yeah. I saw your comment in the chat. You can go ahead and make whatever emotes you want of me. Just try to make them look like me, okay? Glytter: Oh, that will be easy. It’s kind of what I do. JillianPlays: What job do you have? Glytter: I commission various different artwork on DeviantArt. But that’s not all I do. Don’t worry about the emotes. I will do them all for free. Consider it a service as me contributing to your channel. So what do you do for a living, Jill? JillianPlays: First, I want to hear what else you do. Glytter: Well, art is the first thing that I have a passion for. The second thing is fashion. I like to design cute little outfits that mothers can buy for their little ones. I have gotten so good at it that I made it into a full blown business on Etsy. I sew five outfits a day and 10 on the weekends. That’s 55 outfits that I sell a week to upper class mothers that want their cute little ones in quality clothing. Now, what do you do? JillianPlays: I am actually trying to figure that one out. I have been applying for anchor jobs since I want to be a news anchor. Glytter: I knew it! The way that you announced everything today sounded so much like a news anchor! JillianPlays: Did I sound THAT obvious? Anyway, I’m trying to find a job in that. Now, you said that you were tired, but I have one more request. Glytter: And what is that, Jill? JillianPlays: You were wonderful in the chat today! How would you like to be one of my mods? Glytter: I would be more than happy to, Jill! I already know what to do, since I’m a mod for TinyTrish. She’s a little channel that has only 300 followers. She’s the friend that I mentioned that had an average audience of 15. Not much to moderate, but I know what to do if there’s trouble. I’m guessing that you want me to be mod on Discord as well. I can do that… JillianPlays: Thanks Glytter! Now, we both need to go to bed, so I’ll let you go! Good night, Glytter! Glytter: Good night, Jill! Now you’re probably wondering, my JJ Besties. Where is Gary? Did you ever say goodbye to him? Well, let’s hit rewind as I talked to Glytter AFTER Gary left! At the very moment that my stream ended, Gary gave me a big hug. “You did it, Jill!” Gary shouted. “Your very first stream!” I smiled at Gary and smiled. “I really did. That was fun! I could see myself doing this every weekday!” After that, Gary kissed me goodbye and I began my talk with Glytter. So yeah. That was all that happened. I entered my room and diapered myself again (75 diapers left, thanks to my awesome boyfriend Gary!). I then put my Ocean Breeze Joyspun Women’s Short Sleeve T-Shirt and Joggers Pajama set from Walmart on and did my routine before going to bed. I guzzled my water and laid in my bed, smiling. As I began to relax again, my bladder began to slowly release. I felt the warm pee beginning to slowly fill my diaper. I then thought of the stream today. That trip to the bathroom was way too close. How about I just prevent that by wearing diapers during my streams? I will still allow breaks for my audience, but I will use that break to change into a new diaper. I’m actually starting to like that idea the more that I think about it. So with my first stream done, I begin to think of how I could use my extra diapers to help me avoid embarrassment and for convenience during my future streams. But little did I know how that would backfire so bad. But before we get to that story, my JJ Little Besties, it is time that my sister and I pay another visit to Twinsburg, Ohio for the Twins Days Festival. And with it now being less than a month away, the countdown began for Jen and I. Just 29 days remained until the Twins Days Festival, and Jen and I could hardly wait. And at the same time, I could hardly wait to do my second stream tomorrow on Friday…

Rachael has gone to the heart of it. As a lifelong incontinent, I used to be frequently asked what it was like to wear diapers. My standard reply came to be asking in return how they would describe the color red to someone blind from birth. It was a polite way of pointing out that, to me, their question was meaningless. I have had four long-term relationships, and many of shorter duration. Diapers have never been an issue, and I have always been up front about them. So, I have concluded that the problem a lot of AB/DL guys have to confront is their guilt, shame, and overall anxiety. Just about everybody has problems of their own, and it's understandable that they would not want to take someone on with these issues. So, as Rachael says, "don't beat yourself up over it." If you are comfortable in your own skin, you make it a lot easier for others to be comfortable with you.

1 Riley lived a monotonous life. Like any other eleven-year-old girl, she would wake up early in the morning, eat breakfast with a bowl of milk and cereal, brush her teeth and become an athlete to catch the bus that would take her to school, spend five hours listening to her teachers' endless speeches, and write down everything important on her notepad. Friends she had none. Not that she minded the company of others, let's be clear; she preferred to stay in the background and be on her own. In group work she would participate enthusiastically and do her part; when it was over she would go back to being the shy, reserved little girl she was. From time to time she imagined what her life would have been like if she had had friends. Probably, it would have been less boring and static and more eventful. Once, she posed the question to her parents, whose answers did not enlighten her much. Her father Greg told her that having friends fills the days with great excitement, while her mother Helen told her that time passes more quickly and cheerfully if one is in the company of a friend. She was still pondering this on her way home from school. She passed Vito's restaurant, then Mary-Ann's china store, then stopped at the supermarket entrance. She looked at it undecided about her next move. It was quite a long way, at least a 30-minute walk. She had finished her water bottle in the story hour; she would be thirsty even before she entered the residential area. She tapped the left pocket of her jacket, she had her wallet with her, therefore money as well. She was sure of it, she had not used it before this moment. Thus, she passed through the entrance and headed for the bottle counter. She took a fresh water bottle and set off in search of the crates, which in a single moment turned into a full-fledged treasure hunt. She found herself in the meat department, continued to the right, all the way to the back, and arrived at the area dedicated to bread. Puffing, she went back four wards and turned left. She was surprised to see the shelf of baby products on one side and the toy shelf on the other. Motionless as a statue, she admired the baby products side, especially the diapers and wet wipes in their colorful and flashy packaging. She came out of her trance-like moment by shaking her head. She reached over and grabbed a package of Pampers Baby-Dry. Fluffy, she thought. I wonder how they will fit me? Suddenly, Riley was struck with a sense of disgust and placed it back on the shelf. Why had she thought that? Why had she stopped there and held a package of baby diapers in her hands? What was happening to her? She took steps back. Her gaze shifted to a young woman with brown hair and delicate face. She, too, was looking at that section with interest. She stopped at the exact spot where Riley had been perched and picked up the diaper package and placed it in her cart. In that instant, their eyes met. Caught in the act, Riley looked away; her mother had taught her that looking at strangers was rude. She blushed. In complete silence, the lady smiled at her and continued on her way. The little girl took one last look at the shelves filled with diapers and other baby products. She would have liked to buy them and use them. However, there was one detail that hammered in her head: she was an eleven-year-old girl and able to listen to her body, not a baby. She went back to find the speakers, putting this strange episode behind her and hoping it would not happen again. I am a big girl, she told herself. And big girls don't wear diapers. — The next day, Riley was there again looking at those shelves full of light blue packages of Pampers Baby-dry diapers stacked one on top of the other and one behind the other forming an impregnable wall. The real reason she was there was still a mystery, but she didn't care at that moment. She was itching to buy a pack of diapers and a package of wet wipes. She reassured herself by saying, "I'll take them now. I'm going to get them now. I'll take them now." As soon as she took the first step, she would immediately retract it. Then, the air grew tenser and tenser, and Riley tried harder and harder not to panic. She did this seven times in a row. "You still here too?" asked a soft voice. The little girl turned her head to her left; it was the woman she had seen twenty-four hours earlier, dressed in a slightly wrinkled dark blue overcoat and brand-new light blue pants. Her first thought was: What a strange coincidence. "Uh-huh," Riley replied, nodding. His heart began to beat faster. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only person in this lane," replied the adult in a friendly, cordial tone. "I forgot to take the wipes yesterday." The woman fetched them and then returned to Riley. "You seem nervous, are you all right little girl?" Riley nodded hastily, as well as giving an unbelievable smile. The woman looked behind her, then turned her focus back to the little girl with a questioning face. "Why are you here?" she asked as she lowered herself to her height, eyes as clear green as an expanse of grass on a sunny day. Quickly, she added, "If you don't mind me asking." Riley remained silent. Why was this woman asking her that question? Was she a woman who had ulterior motives? Where were the adults at that moment? She began to breathe nervously. The woman realized she was being impetuous toward her, so she repeated the question in a lighter, less inquisitive voice, "What brought you here, honey?" "I... I-I don't know," Riley stammered, taking a few steps back. "Maybe..." "You're interested in these things," replied the woman thoughtfully. "It's nothing wrong, you know." Her eyes lit up. The woman continued. "It's a curiosity that a lot of kids have, so there's nothing wrong with... going back to being a little baby and using baby things. " "Really?" "Yes," she replied, smiling, "you're not crazy, you're a normal kid. You're unique." Riley's eyes became glazed over and she rubbed them with the sleeve of her jacket. "I want to make you a proposition, so you are free to refuse," the woman began. "I'll buy you everything you need and drive you home. What do you say?" Without thinking, the little girl shook her head. Such a proposal could not be refused. And Riley already had a counter-proposal in mind to make to the mystery woman. She took courage and proposed to her, "I have the money and I want to take it... but the only thing I need... is... to know how it fits." The woman smiled. "Would you like me to put it on before we part?" Riley blushed embarrassed and looked away from her. No. No! This was going too far; her private parts remained private! The woman chuckled amusedly, "Just kidding, silly! Just lie on top of it, lift it up until you feel it over your belly, and attach the tapes. If you're having difficulty, watch a YouTube video." Riley nodded and in a low voice thanked the woman, before leaving her field of vision she ruffled her hair playfully and wished her good luck with everything. Would she see her again someday? She took a package of diapers, one of wet wipes and a lotion of moisturizer and walked to the cashier to pay. The cashier who had served her, a woman in her 60s, complimented her on being a diligent and responsible girl. She could not blush upon hearing those sweet words; she wished they had been true! Once outside the supermarket, she felt over the moon, and the smile on her face was proof of that. Now, it remained for her to go home and turn back the clock; the day had taken a decidedly more exciting direction than the usual monotony.

I don't know why but I am genuinely much happier and contented since I became incontinent and dependant on nappies 24/7. I couldn't imagine life any other way now.

I am so excited by the response so far. Here the last chapter I currently have written so there will probably be a delay before I can upload again. But please let me know how you like things, I love feedback and the story is about to get interesting! Enjoy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Chapter 3 The sunlight finally forced Tara to open her eyes, and the warmth of the covers made her clench her muscles slightly. Only to then release and stretch out to feel the coolness of the rest of the bed. Memories of the last couple of days came back to focus. She suddenly jerked up and reached for her nighttime padding. Dry. “Whew!” Tara let out an audible sigh, returning to normal. She felt a bit sweaty, but with a dry pull-up she bounced up with some newfound energy. Pulling her PJ bottoms off, she relished the air flow as she made her way to the bathroom. As she sat down for her morning pee, she felt relief in more ways than one. “Taraaaaa!!” came the cry from across the hall. Pulling her padding back up, Tara raced out of the bathroom and headed for Brittany’s room. She found the girl sitting on her bed with the obvious indicator that she had not had a dry night. Calming herself down, Tara walked up and sat down next to the smaller girl. “It's alright… “ she said, placing her hand on the 10-year-old’s shoulder. “But… if I have three nights in… in… a row…” the girl sputtered. Tara sympathized with Brittany more than ever; she didn’t even know what three nights wet might mean. After her own outburst yesterday, she just let her work it out and gave her a few minutes. “Look, we are in a weird situation, but how about we just do what we usually do together?” Tara finally asked through a smirk. The tears and sniffles immediately stopped, and two shiny eyes locked to Tara’s. “The Mall!!” they said in unison. Their whole lives, they had been just enough years apart to not have a ton in common. But one thing that stayed the same were trips to the mall, starting with being driven by their mothers. Then, when Tara started driving, it became just the 2 of them on their adventures. While Brittany changed, the older girl went and got a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster and was buttering them when Brittany bounded down the stairs. It was only then that Tara realized she was still only in her nightshirt and the pull-up. Blushing, she said, “Here you go!” and she presented the waffles. Dashing upstairs Tara snagged a new pull-up and went to work, trying to find something that would be better than the shorts from the park. Having packed most of her wardrobe, she quickly found a longer tank top that wouldn’t ride up much. She wanted to find a longer skirt but was having difficulty. Stopping the search, she went and pulled her hair back in the mirror. It was so odd to see herself in only a shirt and a pull-up… but she was on a mission. Back into her clothes pile, she began pulling at a likely candidate when she was jolted by a screech from downstairs. “TARA, hurry up!” was the adolescent cry. Chuckling, she grabbed a skirt and pulled it up while dashing downstairs. “Coming!” she called. Within 5 minutes, both were in the van and down the street. Heeding both their mother’s wishes while Tara drove, Brittany was in the back seat on the passenger side. They talked and planned their trip for a bit until the conversation died away while they jammed to some tunes. Turning up the AC, a cold sensation spread from Tara’s lap. Reaching a stop sign, she looked down and snapped her head back up with wide eyes. She had failed in her attempt to find a suitable skirt. Thinking she had found something that least reached above her knees, she actually had picked a short skirt with two large frills. It wasn’t totally indecent, so it should still cover the slim padding, but right now it had bunched up and her pull up was on full display. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she could just buy something else if she wanted. As they were approaching the mall, Tara resolved to not let this ruin her day; after all, it was unlikely that someone would ever notice anyway. Her fears were immediately taken away by Brittany’s enthusiasm. The girls window-shopped, giggled, and there was never a thought about what they both happened to be wearing. At lunch, they had subs: ice cream for Brittany and an Icee for Tara. After another, rather shorter, blitz of shopping, both girls were ready to head out but decided to stop at a clothing store as they exited the mall. Tossing their pops away, they entered the quiet of the shop, and the younger girl made a beeline to her own section. Keeping an eye on her, Tara also looked around for something that would catch her eye when Brittany called her over. The girl’s eyes were practically glowing at an outfit that was hanging on a rack: red overalls that stopped at the knee and a white shirt underneath. “Really?” she asked, and the girl nodded. “Oh, that is so cute!” came a high voice from behind. An older woman with a manager tag on her shirt came up behind the girls and gave them a big smile. “Would you care to try it on?” she asked Brittany. “Can I?” The girl turned to Tara, and she nodded. Brittany grabbed the outfit and ran to the back of the store, and Tara hustled after, getting there just as Brit got in a stall. Sitting down in front of the door, she let out a deep breath. Making quick work of the change, the girl stepped out and looked adorable in the red outfit. Then the woman came into the back area with another outfit set, only this one was a coverall dress instead of overalls. Before she could say they found the right size, the manager cut in, “I found our biggest size, and I think it will fit you if you would like to match; they are on sale.” Tara looked at Brittany and hesitated until she looked at her. She could tell the girl wanted her to say yes; it wasn’t her style, but she was having a great time, so she nodded. “Thanks so much, Tara!” she said, crushing the older girl in a big hug. Dashing back into the changing area, the manager turned back to Tara. “There is actually one other outfit I think would be perfect for you,” the woman said behind a wide grin. Polite as ever, she just nodded again and watched her bustle off back to the section where Brittany found the first outfit. On the woman’s return to the changing area, Tara’s jaw nearly dropped when she saw what the woman was carrying. A short pink dress with tutu-like flair at the bottom had white leggings with pink hearts on them to match. Practically choking on her response, she froze with how she was going to turn the manager down. “I just bought this one for my own daughter, and you remind me so much of her. It's on clearance, so it's basically a steal and so cute!” she explained. Suddenly, as she stood, Tara became hyper-aware that she was in a department store talking to a manager. Already buying a juvenile outfit, and she was in a pull-up, panic was setting in. Brittany had emerged beaming; it felt like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to do. “Ah… ha… What do you think, Brit?” she asked. Brittany looked at the shocking pink outfit and exclaimed, “Oh, that’s… that is cute!” “It’s settled then,” the manager said, clapping her hands together. The girls were ushered to the counter, and as she swiped her card, then Tara realized how much she must have been given a discount on the outfits as the receipt was handed over. “Thank you for helping us out,” she squeaked out. The manager smiled and said , “Oh, not to worry, I know how tricky working around padding is with my girls.” Blushing beat red and rushing out with Brittany in tow, she did not stop until they got outside, breathing hard. Was she wearing a sign? How was it that she was incapable of hiding the fact that she was wearing pull-ups?! Looking at Brittany, the girl just reached around and hugged her close. She finally calmed with the tiny embrace, and her breathing slowed. They walked arm in arm to the van. “Let’s get home!”, Tara declared with a forced laugh. Pulling onto the highway, Tara saw nothing but red lights, and no car was moving after they got about a mile down the road. First 5, then 10, then 25 minutes went by, and they had only moved a few car lengths. The pressing need to go to the bathroom was growing, and there was no end in sight. Flipping the van into park she looked on her phone to discover that an accident with multiple injuries was the cause, and it wasn’t clearing anytime soon. Looking back at her little friend, she could tell that Brittany was also fidgeting and needing to go. Cramping started to settle in, Tara could feel herself beginning to sweat, and her prospects looked dim. About 10 minutes later, she noticed that Brittany had stopped twitching and appeared to be calmer. She must have wet herself, and she was staying quiet to avoid talking about it, she understood that. Turning the radio up a bit, Tara had a thought strike her. If they both had wet themselves, and really the traffic was to blame., maybe, she could just convince Brittany that they could forget this one. “Yeah, I mean, I am only in them to be nice to Brittany anyway,” she thought to herself. Shifting her left leg over while flipping back into gear, the van inched forward while she tried to let herself use the padding between her legs. It was trickier than she thought, pushing didn’t work. Deep breathing, flexing her pelvis, and pushing herself up off the seat did not help either. Finally, she just tried to ‘let go’ and lean into the urge, and it began building. Her mind raced; it was working. She was about to wet herself on purpose; was this really the right choice? Why was she doing this again? Too late, a small warmth started to grow as the pull-up started to fill. Her breath slowed, and as the traffic moved a bit quicker, the flow continued, only to suddenly taper off. She still had to go, but that had taken the edge off, and she relaxed back into the driver seat. It was an odd feeling to have this warmth, or even heat, between her legs. Then, when she tried to press her legs together a bit, the swollen padding prevented them from coming close together. Trying to push the sensations away, she focused on the road and traffic, hoping that traffic would lighten up soon. It was another hour before they passed the accident; traffic had freed up and they were still a half-hour away, and the pressure was building once again. After all, she hadn’t finished going the first time, and Tara didn’t really think too much about it because she was confident she could make it. But a couple of sharp cramps made her think twice about holding things out for even a few more minutes. So, repeating the process from before, she decided to just let out a little bit, and just a minute later, a small trickle began. This was a good idea; take the edge off. “How much longer?” Brittany injected as they pulled up to a light. Trying to ignore her to stop what she was doing, Tara responded, “Ah… About 15-20 minutes. Why?” “I don’t think I can hold it much longer,” the girl answered. “Well you… Wait, you haven’t already… ?” She let the sentence hang there. “No, not yet,” Brit stated. Losing control a burst of pee soaked into the diaper as her bladder gave away fully. She had just wet her pull-up twice, and Brittany was still dry! The feeling of warmth was rapidly spreading, signaling that the padding had reached its limit. Trying to keep a straight face Tara had to think fast, but the only thought that came to mind was to get Brit to use her pull-up. “I.. ah… have to go too. Let’s just cheat this one time,” she suggested and then added, “I mean, with the traffic, it makes sense that we just call a do-over.” “Well, once Mom extended a rule time because I had an accident right before bed and she wanted to make sure I would stay dry,” Brit explained. “Yes! I mean, yeah. Let’s just push things back a day, and that means we just wear them until Monday morning,” Tara concluded. Looking in the back, she saw that Brittany’s face had glazed over, and she heard a slight sigh of relief. She also sighed, but of course, she had already gone. They pulled into the driveway a bit later, and Tara looked around at Brittany and asked, “You good?” The girl nodded and pushed the van door open. Unbuckling her own seat belt and pushing the door open, Tara hopped down and felt the pull-up weigh down on her hips. It was clearly sagging quite low, and she looked back to see two small spots where the pee had leaked on the seat. “Whoa!” Brittany exclaimed at seeing her older friend in this state. Feeling heat in her cheeks, Tara started a walk or waddle inside. “I guess that Icee was a mistake, huh?” The 10-year-old giggled and nodded. “Yeah, the only time I have ever leaked was when I had two accidents.” Tara remained silent as she got into the house and climbed the stairs to her bathroom. Cleaning herself up and disposing of the pull-up she sat on the toilet to be absolutely sure. She was, evidently, already finished. With Brittany downstairs, Tara scurried over, grabbed another pull-up and dashed back to her room. Stepping into the garment, she sat on the bed and took a breath. How could so much have happened in such a short amount of time? She was smarter than this; she wasn’t going to let this continue. Time to work through the facts. Fact one: she had to continue to follow the rules. Brittany was counting on her, and if she changed her mind now, it could damage their friendship; they were practically sisters. Fact two: she only had one true accident. She ‘faked’ the first to help Brittany; actually wet the bed and then chose to wet her pull-up due to a lack of options on a crowded highway. Fact three: she only needed to stay dry for one night. It would take two nights and 1 day to get back to normal. She could do that; she would. Standing, she took a look in the mirror and finally noticed the wet stain on the skirt she wore. Groaning, Tara just called it the wash of the day and decided to take a shower. The rest of the night went by rather dully after the ‘excitement’ of the last couple of days. But Tara was relishing the boredom and kept going over the rules, the facts in her head like a mantra. She wanted to get back to normal, and she only needed to stay dry for two nights and a day or risk moving up to the third rule. She did not want to be in pull-ups at all, let alone school. There were outs, staying dry for 3 nights and/or days, but things were starting to spiral, and everything was different now. Saying their goodnights, Tara climbed into bed in only her PJ top and the pull-up. It felt better to not wear bottoms, and despite everything that had happened, she was extremely comfortable. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Eyes snapping open Tara was rudely awakened with an urge to pee. Quick as a flash, she was up and out of bed. Dashing to the bathroom, she sat down, and the flow started. Sighing heavily, she looked down and confirmed that the pull-up was dry. Happy about waking up to the urge to pee was far better than waking up in a wet pull-up. It was a little early, so she went back to bed and played on her phone until she heard Brittany get up and go to the bathroom. Once the two met down in the kitchen, the two were both in good spirits with dry nights. They both congratulated each other and decided to have a PJ day before school tomorrow. Later that night, Tara and Brittany were 7 episodes into one of their favorite series when the younger girl spoke up. “So, we don’t have to wear pull-ups after tonight, right?” she asked. “Well, what is rule… 1A?” Tara asked. “A single day-time accident will result in a day-ime pull-up for 1 day and 1 night,” Brittany recited. “Well, we passed that one on Friday. So how about 1B?” she responded. Again, Brittany had it memorized: “A single night-time accident will result in day-time pull-ups for 2 days and night-time pull-ups for 2 nights.” “Ok, so we are both on the last night of that. One day late,” Tara said with a wink. Brittany smiled at the slight bending of the rules but then went on, “I’m happy that we are doing this together.” Tara smiled back and realized that this was all she needed to keep going. Just then, her phone chimed, and her mom’s face was on the screen. They spent the next hour talking to their mothers, but neither girl mentioned particular events in the last couple of days. Leaving Brittany to finish up talking to her mom, she went upstairs and laid out her clothes for the next day. After deciding on a dress, Tara was excited to get back to wearing her own underwear. Returning her phone to her, Brittany said good night to Tara, also giving her the thicker pull up for the night. Tara thanked her and gave her a big hug. In bed, with the pull-up in place, Tara felt calm and was glad that she had taken the leap to follow the rules with her best friend. It had brought them closer than they had been; this was going to be an interesting couple of months. Rolling over, Tara was asleep within minutes.

Because I have been passionately reading your stories for 4 years now and I know that you are mean and love to torture your readers.

I sit here and contemplate this whole DL lifestyle. I thought that maybe I had finally found someone that I could talk to about our mutual love of diapers. We messaged back and forth frequently at first and we were honest with each other. Now, she seems to have stop writing. It is hard enough living with this fetish, especially when you feel alone. I have written a few posts on this site and have removed most of them due to replies that upset me. I have decided to write this on here (as maybe my last one) just to get this off chest. I feel alone and am now going to sit back and think about this. It is so hard keeping this a secret for pretty much my life. Now I have to think about Why?

yes there is. It's called scrolling. Or you just copy past the chapters in a text document and read it then without comments

I was with only one person who totally embraced it and she died from a drunk driver. My current wife dealt with it when this was a fetish and fun - but MS had other plans - now 24 -7 - and 61 years old (going on 17) I feel that it was a "chance at best" for another one.... but I am happy with what I have, we are each others best friend and even though she hates the AB style print diapers, we have had to buy them because of budgets years ago and I don't much care for the AB ones either, but they worked for what we needed to keep working and paying bills....For that, I think that my wife is better than the first one that was into it because I liked it for the fun fetish reasons.

I love being a bedwetter. For most of my entire adult life I have never slept a complete night and always had to get up to go to the bathroom. As I matured it went from once to possibly three times a night. Now that I wear diapers to bed and due to a prescription change, I sleep the entire night. In the morning I wake up with a swollen diaper and rested because of a full night's rest. Even if I wake up during the night feeling the urge to go to the bathroom. I just lay there and let it flow and enjoy it and go back to sleep. Currently I have some urinary issues and I very well may end up being diaper dependent shortly. I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing.

Me too !!! I've been a bedwetter for several years now, but it's different from night to night... Some nights, I wet my diaper a little before I fall to sleep, and when I wake up in the morning, my diaper is MUCH wetter. Some nights, I am woken by the urge to pee, but when I check my diaper, I'm already wet from an earlier wetting when I was asleep. And the best nights are like last night... Didn't wet before going to sleep, never wakened to wet during the night, but woke up this morning in very wet cloth diapers and plastic panties!

So this weekend past I again dropped my beloved at the airport on Friday morning for a long weekend with her girlfriends interstate. Three days alone afforded me the strange kind of inverted opportunity that presents to those of us who chose to live their entire lives in nappies: the chance of sneakily spending a weekend NOT wearing nappies. Just to see what still works and what doesn’t. Not Friday though. There was a road trip involved and I know enough already to know that such an event would NOT end well, especially since I was to be driving my beloved’s car. Definitely nappies for THAT trip. After the early morning drop-and-kiss at the airport (you have 30 seconds before a parking storm-trooper strides purposely towards you with a clipboard), I needed to head about 1.5 hours drive up the coast to supervise some works at our other house in a Rearz Inspire+ Mega. The Rearz saw abundant, full use of the course of the day. I never even made it from the airport to the city limits without needing to wet it a little. When I came home early evening that day however took it off, had a shower and replaced it with a thin, close-to-useless, underwear-styled pull-up that I had laying about. I used a pull up because: (a) I couldn’t find my last known remaining pair of underpants (b) It was yet another rain-soaked weekend and I was trying to minimise washing, just in case accidents happened I then proceeded to pee in the toilet by sharp necessity every 60 minutes until bedtime. It wasn’t much pee but the urges went from “none” to “toilet NOW” in as little as 10 minutes. I then went to bed in that same (dry) pull-up. It was unlikely that this pull-up would handle a full-on bedwetting but I punted that it had enough to let me get away with at least one “leak” and I could just change it out for any further nocturnal emissions. I needed to avoid having to wash pee-soaked bedding as it was yet another rain-addled La Nina weather weekend. A full on wet bed would be a logistical problem. I woke suddenly at 2:24am and realised I was about to pee. I leapt out of bed and made a beeline for the toilet where ensued, a very slow and weak pee in the socially conventional location. It looked like however under the harsh glare of the bathroom light that I was possibly a little late to the game. I’d found my “equipment” was a little wet already upon extraction and there was a small wet spot at the inside front of my pull-up. I think it must have been a pee squirt that woke me whereupon I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be doing that. I had to get up and pee again at 4:30 and again at 7am which sucked. I thought my pull-up was basically dry next morning but pulling it for a rather novel “upon arising” pee, I found the crotch to be suspiciously yellow at the front and that the wetness markers had disappeared there. It certainly wasn’t VERY wet but it had seen *some* action. I’m not sure if that was the fugitive squirt that happened at 2:30 before I’d actually realised what was about to happen (which would have to have been much bigger than I’d thought) or if there’d been some minor leakage later, or both. The next day was more of the same: I had to pee hourly with urgency. Each pee episode was weak, small and preceded by a veritable Mariachi band of urges. I didn’t bother trying to hold on to see if I would wet myself. I knew I would before long, that the process would be painful and trigger yet more washing. It was a pretty annoying day really, not helped by the fact that I was painting a garage. At some point during the day however, Queensland’s autumnal pollen-dump arrived bringing on my usual allergic reaction. After enduring a slightly sniffy and red-eyed hour or so, I sneezed violently, and unexpectedly. I also unexpectedly-and-simultanously squirted into my pull-up. I felt it plain as day and the perfunctory check for a wet spot in my pull up (there was one) was a mere formality. The weird thing was that I didn’t even need to pee! THAT’S new. I don’t have a post-partum body. I’ve leaked whilst coughing before but that’s always been in the context of being in, or close to, my “drip and dribble” zone whereby I’ve relaxed my pelvic floor and allowed myself to use my nappies near-reflexively. This was NOT the case here. I was concentrating on being continent and was (up until the sneeze), perfectly dry and wet myself a tiny bit uncontrollably anyway. I then went to bed that evening and proceeded to keep my pull-up dry all night be dint of being awoken by my bladder to get up and pee every two to three hours. As far as I could tell, I did not sleep wet at all overnight. Then Sunday arrived: another day of hourly peeing. How very, VERY tiresome. Mercifully, Sunday night rolled around and I taped myself into a BetterDry, fell into bed, woke up needing to pee at 2am and did so this time without getting up. I don’t remember any further pee events until Monday so presumably (on night 3), bedwetting returned. So that’s what things look like. That’s after 5 non-stop years of nappies and avoiding any bladder control. It’s not much of a result really: unreliable bedwetting and some frequency/urgency during the day. I guess you’d call it “dependency”. Perhaps instead of the “12 Month Guide” they should call it the “12 Year Guide” because that’s what the glide slope here looks like. This, after no less than 5 years of uninterrupted nappies. On that slight pee-whiff of failure, I’ll defer commenting further on the 5 year anniversary until another time…

Chapter 39: Rebellion Little in Love 2 – LittleFallenPrincess I waited patiently as the Speaker of the House slowly managed to regain order in the Commons. The shouting match between the Prime Minister and our own party had eventually returned to just evil glares, whilst the opposition parties across the aisle all laughed at our inability to maintain order within our own ranks. “Now… with everything going on, I think we ought to hear directly from the person leading the protests… Mrs Olivia Clarke.” The Speaker of the House called out. Everyone cheered in agreement, though the Prime Minister didn’t seem all too happy. “It’s your time… make it count…” Jacob whispered to me as he moved out of the way so I could make my way to the front bench. With amazons towering over me on both sides, I couldn’t help feeling a bit of fear and anxiety as I passed my peers, all of whom looked at me with different emotions on their faces. Some were proud of me, nodding and smiling, including Mrs Carter, who still shocked me that she was a supporter of littles. I swear I remember hearing Jacob talk about her having her own little that she adopted, hence why I didn’t bother looking to her for support, or even friendship… which reminded me that maybe I should have a look into her and see what situation she’s actually in. Because maybe she’s like Catherine, Ellie and Danny’s Mummy… maybe she’s protecting the little. Maybe… just maybe… I was a little too quick to judge. I walked up to the large table in front of the Prime Minister and his ministers, the one separating our party from the opposition. This is where the PM and the leader of the opposition would speak out, along with their cabinet ministers, whereas backbenchers like me would have to speak from our seats. At least now I’d have a microphone so they'd be able to hear me! Downside was… I didn’t see a step stool or anything, which meant either awkwardly asking for one, or climbing on top of the table, which seemed… undignified. “Let’s see her try to get up…” The Prime Minister smirked as he whispered to the Secretary of State next to him. I say he ‘whispered’… he made sure he was loud enough so that I could hear him. But then that’s when the unexpected happened. The Minister for Equalities… whose job it was to carefully oversee equality legislation and encourage fair treatment for all, basically any minority except littles… stood up from the front bench and grabbed something from under his seat, walking ahead of me and placing it down next to the stand. It was… a step stool! “I… thank you…” I said, mumbling my words as I struggled to find the appreciation for such a kind act. One that I genuinely wasn’t expecting. “No, Mrs Clarke, thank you.” He replied, smiling at me. I could feel the hatred from the Prime Minister burning into the back of this relatively unknown Minister’s head. He had clearly gone against orders and directly disobeyed our Prime Minister, something that will probably lead to him getting the whip withdrawn. But that’s the thing… this wasn’t a last minute attempt to save face in front of the majority of our party who seemed to be on our side rather than the PM’s… this guy had the foresight to bring this ahead of time… I smiled at the Equalities Minister and made my way up the step stool so that I was now at head height with the microphone. “I…” I coughed a bit to clear my throat… and to build up the nerves I needed to speak to everyone. Last time I did this, it landed me in hot water with the Prime Minister, and I was fueled by fury and rage last time. This time… I needed to sound civil. I needed to be the better person. I needed… to appear like an adult and not the little baby that most of these people probably saw me as. “I… thank you, Mr Speaker. I… I understand a lot of you are worried right now. The protests have been going on for…” “BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THEM!” An opposition member shouted, interrupting me. “ORDER!” The Speaker called out. “Yes, I am.” I replied, calmly. “My wife was attacked and left in a coma, so I lashed out at the person who caused it, and due to that outburst… a certain member of my party then tried adopting me.” All eyes turned to the perpetrator, who quickly hid her face in her notes, trying to look less guilty. “Tell me, any of you, would you have acted differently in that moment? Your wife is in a coma, and you find out one of the people you truly trusted… had put her there… that he betrayed everything you thought he stood for…” I heard a few shouts of agreement coming from various parts of the Commons, whereas the people who kept quiet looked very guilty. “I went for the person who betrayed myself and my wife. And I ended up nearly being adopted for doing so. If the public hadn’t helped me… I’d be stuck in a nursery in Mrs Brackenstone’s house, shitting myself…” “Language warning, Mrs Clarke…” The Speaker interrupted. “Sorry, Mr Speaker. But I would be regressed in a crib somewhere, unable to do the job I was elected to do. I’m sorry, but who won us the election? And I’m not talking about myself… I’m talking about the millions of littles who all voted, most of whom for the first time, to get us into power. And they, along with millions of Amazon supporters… have shown us that our party failed them. That our Prime Minister turned his back on those who he should be protecting. We voted for you because you wanted to make the country more fair for littles, but you ended up working closely with Chris Slater…” The Commons erupted into arguments again, which had to be quashed by the Speaker… yet again. “It’s true, isn’t it? You and the head of LIBRA were working closely together. I found out just how close during my time running LIBRA myself…” The Prime Minister’s face turned pale as he realised he was fucked. Funny thing is… I found nothing. It was one of the first things I did when I took over running LIBRA, but I couldn’t find anything linking Chris to the PM. No emails, no calls… nothing. But the pale shade on this man’s face told me everything I needed to know. What had just started as a hunch… had just been confirmed by this traitorous face. “I…” He said, speechless. “So you admit you had dealings with Chris?” I asked. “Yes. In order to improve things for littles across the country…” The Prime Minister responded, lying through his teeth. “Improve things… like… developing Brute Force hypnosis to completely obliterate any little’s mind?” “How did…?” His face dropped in fear. “How did I know? I have a very clever ally who is a bit of an expert in all things tech. She confirmed that the same device used to hypnotise my wife… is the same device that created the brute force hypnosis recordings that is currently being used on littles across the country. “That… that isn’t illegal…” “No, you’re right, it’s not. You vowed to outlaw all forced hypnosis before we got elected. And then as soon as you get your position… you go ahead and create the worst kind imaginable… one that leaves absolutely nothing of the original person left. And not only that… that same device that created it can also be used on Amazons. Imagine that kind of power being used against any of you here today. Being turned into something you’re not. Being reduced to a babbling baby just by accidentally watching the wrong TV show.” I looked around the room, and I could see all of them panic a little inside at the thought of this possibility. For so long they thought themselves so powerful… so… invulnerable… and now they were just as powerless and helpless as the littles they love to adopt. “WHERE IS THIS DEVICE NOW?” The leader of the opposition shouted in a panic. The speaker didn’t tell him off or anything, as I could see that even he was nervously twitching in his seat at the thought of being hypnotised. “I had it dismantled. And all records and copies destroyed. Because I believe that such a device is not safe in anyone’s hands. Amazon or little. It’s why the betrayal of the Prime Minister… after everything he promised… hurts so much.” “So he orchestrated the attack on Mrs Williams?” Mrs Carter stood up and asked. The house erupted into yelling matches again as everyone put two and two together and realised that whilst it was not illegal to use hypnosis on a little… it was definitely assault when it comes to an Amazon. And for the Prime Minister to be in league with Chris when this was going on… “I CALL FOR A VOTE OF NO CONFIDENCE IN OUR PRIME MINISTER!” Mrs Carter cried out, above everyone else’s voices. There. That was what I was waiting for. If I had called for it myself… there was no chance I’d even be listened to. I just had to drip feed the information to my party, let them realise what the Prime Minister had actually done… and wait for the ensuing chaos. Waves of hands raised in support, all shouting ‘Aye’. --------------------------------------------------------- “THE AYES HAVE IT, THE AYES HAVE IT.” The speaker announced after a very long, tense vote. I watched as the disgraced Prime Minister was voted out of office, and subsequently arrested for his role in the assault on my wife. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find great enjoyment in seeing his usually-smug face look at me with a mix of hatred and guilt as he was paraded out of here with his hands cuffed behind his back by a couple of police officers. He’s lucky I had Faith dismantle that device… otherwise he’d be drooling in a crib somewhere for what he did to my wife. The majority of our party had voted to oust that backstabbing prick, the only people who didn’t were the small handful of the Prime Minister’s cabinet members. Not only did most of our party vote to get rid of him, most of the other political parties did too, and this just left a hole in the leadership position of not only our party… but our government. Which was made all the more scary by the fact that the country really needed stability right now. It needed reassurance, so that the protests would calm down and things would go back to something more peaceful. Not the same, as we can’t go back to the status quo, not after everything we’ve been through, but we definitely need some semblance of peace. Once the large doors shut, the Commons went eerily silent, which after today’s shouting matches… was just uncomfortable. “What do we do now?” Mrs Carter asked, finally breaking the silence. “Who becomes Prime Minister now?” Everyone looked around at each other and shrugged. Clearly no one had any idea. “We don’t really have any kind of succession like other countries. This… this has never happened before.” The Speaker calmly spoke out to all the MPs currently sitting in their bench seats, waiting to be told what happens next now that the corrupt PM is gone. “The Green Democrats need to elect a new leader, and that person will take on the position of interim Prime Minister, until the time in which the people can elect a new Prime Minister.” “So… it’s up to us?” Mrs Carter looked around. “I nominate Mrs Clarke.” My heart stopped. At least that’s what it felt like when everyone turned to look at me. I had quietly taken my seat to cast my vote when the Prime Minister’s fate was up for debate… and now I wanted to retreat further into the chair, away from all these prying eyes. “I agree.” Jacob said. “I would suggest going away and voting…” The Speaker tried to suggest. “No. We’re confident. We nominate Mrs Clarke.” “This is highly unprecedented… but then everything going on lately is. The country is in chaos. We need leadership. Mrs Clarke… do you accept this nomination?” The Speaker of the Commons turned to ask me. “I…” “Well?” “Liv… do it! Say yes!” Dotty said into my earpiece, followed by Faith, who was also in on the call, suggesting I should definitely do it. “I…” ======================================================= My new story just had it's second chapter on SubscribeStar, so expect it here in a couple of weeks (at least that's the current plan). Also thinking of opening up short story commissions now too finally, now that my writers block seems to have subsided. If you haven't seen, I'm now up and running on Subscribestar! (Sorry for the reminder again, trying to get my subscribers back after the Patreon rubbish!) ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my patrons for their support over the past couple of years! Seriously, your support meant the world to me, and I hope to be set up somewhere new soon. New chapters of Little in Love 2 every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

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.

I’m looking for role play partners.. I like to be babied, diapered, spanked and humiliated.. It’s roleplay so I can be boy, girl or sissy… You can look at some of my other role plays and see if you’re interested… I have some ideas and will be happy to hear yours… Thanks, K

hello all, im new here, but i wanted to try and maybe... reach out for some encouragement? ive wanted to be diaper dependent for well over a decade, but bad experience after bad experience had left me with a severe distaste for them for a period of years, being disgusted at my own desires. its honestly only been in the last year that ive begun REALLY coming to terms with what i want, and that its genuinely okay to want in the first place. when i had my bottom surgery back in 2017, i was unfortunately one of the cases where the surgeon fucked up real bad, and among other lingering effects, i have always struggled with leaking a little bit when i do things like excersize rigorously, laugh too hard, or do things of the sort, so my brain is already aware that this would be a "good thing for me anyways" the setup so far is that ive tried to be 24/7 once or twice in that year, and each time felt like home, but for some reason or another that i cant remember, i kept falling off. this time though, im determined...DETERMINED, to make it happen. i have ordered my first full case of megamax's, and set it up to autosend to me, so that i dont even have to think about not using them because theyre coming anyways. i have lots of supportive friends, and a close one who is acting as my primary "coach" or biggest confidant and encourager. so i wanted to ask, if you have any tips for a newbie, what would you suggest? and any kind of positive reinforcement is really appreciated

Thanks for the catch there, Grammarly snuck that change in on me after denying it a bunch of times... That being said, it would be funny! 🤣

If the author has taken time to add links it's possible, but I know for me that's more trouble/time than I'm willing to put in there in case something breaks down the road. Your best bet is to see if they also post on WattPad, Ream, or SubscribeStar and find the chapters there if it is that much of an issue. For my part I know I do tend to find the WattPad versions easier to read straight through myself.

Lara sat at her desk staring blankly at her laptop, not reading a word. Her attempts to study were clouded by thoughts of the well spanked boy sleeping downstairs. Every time she tried to refocus, it was no use. She just continued picturing Ted. Bent over across Stacey’s knee. Begging not to be paddled. His pink bottom in the air over the arm of the couch. Standing in the corner with his pants around his ankles. His buised butt getting strapped across his bed. Climbing into bed wearing nothing but a pull-up diaper. Lara’s hand slid between her legs. Working their way upward, her fingers found a growing warmth spreading as she considered how infantile Ted had been treated. The thought of him in pull-ups made her remember… “He needs thicker diapers!” Quickly opening a new tab on her browser, Lara searched “thick adult diapers.” As she perused the results, she muttered aloud to herself. “Hmm… no, too thin… and boring… “Here, these are thicker! But man, still boring… “Ha! Pink ones!” Lara perused a site with various options of plain colored diapers. She giggled a little as she read the descriptions like “overnight protection” and “heavy wetting.” She hit the back button and again clicked into the search bar. Hesitating momentarily, she amended her search. “cute adult diapers” Lara’s eyes spread wide open as the results poured in. Her jaw dropped. There were pages and pages of adult sized diapers fashioned with bright colors and babyish prints. Dozens of styles with varying thickness, though most of them boasted serious absorbency. Her hand dropped quickly between her legs. The warmth intensified and her fingers felt a dampness spread as she pressed them against the crotch of her leggings. She began rubbing herself, while her other hand scrolled the diaper selections. Lara was astounded as she saw the pictures of grown girls and boys modeling the colorful infantile diapers. She never would have considered something like this sexy, but in that moment, she was intensely turned on. After about ten minutes down the rabbit hole of adult baby accessories like pacifiers, onesies, and changing mats, Lara added a pack of baby blue printed diapers to her online cart and quickly checked out. Her purchase would arrive in just a few days. She was so titillated. Saving a few bookmarks for sites to check back on another time, Lara closed her laptop and opened her legs. She had more pressing matters to attend to than shopping for pacifiers. She slid a hand down the waistband of her pants as she pushed back from the desk. She closed her eyes. Imagining Ted, standing in the corner, red splotches at the tops of his thighs, just below a poofy baby blue diaper, Lara’s fingers worked the lips of her pussy. Finding the target, Lara gasped and bit her lip. She rubbed furiously as she pictured Ted’s muscular body, sprawled out on his bed, naked but for a cute Pamper, bulging at the crotch. Stifling her moans so as to not wake up her roommate down the hall, Lara pushed harder into her clit and massaged it deeply. The image in her mind flashed to Ted willingly bending himself over her knee. She pull down his diaper and began reddening his bare bottom. She imagined what she might say to him. “Naughty, naughty little boy. You just can’t act like a big boy can you? You need a good spanking and a fresh diaper, mister!” Lara’s entire body flexed. Her mind went completely blank as she reached a massive climax. She bit down hard on her lip, drawing a little blood, trying not to yell out in ecstasy. As she recovered her composure, Lara smiled to herself. It was weird for sure, the idea of spanking and babying her friend. But there was no denying, it was also very sexy. Lara regarded the state of her panties. They were very wet and had soaked all the way through to her leggings. “Sheesh, maybe I need a diaper too…” she muttered to herself with a snicker. Suddenly, she remembered the second bag of Goodnites stashed under her bed. She bolted over and retrieved the pack. Then she stopped. Standing like a statue, examining the package, Lara hesitated and debated inside her head. She squeezed the bag and turned it over. The dampness in her crotch began to cool, and a shiver ran up her spine. As if this were a sign, she tore open the bag and pulled out a pink and purple pull-up. She peeled off her pants and underwear, moving quickly so that she wouldn’t back out. Goosebumps rose on her bare, slender legs. She stretched out the diaper, and pulled it on. Turning so she could see her bum in the full length mirror behind her, Lara blushed and smiled. The print on her pull-ups was far less infantile than what she had just ordered for Ted, but there was no certainly mistaking them for big girl panties. Lara ran her fingers over her butt and pulled at the edges of her diaper. It was soft, and was rubbing her in the all right places. She liked how it accentuated her curves and cushioned her crotch. She felt like she had to share this with someone. Stacey surely wouldn’t want to be woken up. But Lara thought maybe Teddy would be interested to see what she had on. Slipping out of her room, she tiptoed downstairs, trying to be quiet but acutely aware of the soft rustling from her Goodnites.

I am neutral on wetness indicators but I certainly don't need them on my diaper. I know when I wet and I am fairly accurate at judging when I should change before leaking. If I ever leaked on the furniture, my wife would not be happy.

Google up "jama ovarian cancer baby powder". That claim was debunked long ago in JAMA but the story was drowned out by the Trump impeachment story. I did hear it in the news

Well, time for the next chapter of The Tale of the Dying Night. Hopefully this it to y'all's satisfaction~ - Chapter Four: A Ghost Ship - The gangplank had to be raised for the Catastrophe to reach the top of the ghost galleon. Thankfully, Sybil was a solid carpenter and managed to get a few extensions to help it reach. Florence was the first to board, and the second she did, she felt a supercharged jolt go through her, as nothing about the galleon made sense. It seemed to be abandoned completely, with no cannons, only one door (the captain’s quarters; there wasn’t even any sign of a deck below), and an odd, yet strangely familiar smell in the air that her nose couldn’t figure out. The vixen sighed. They wouldn’t find the treasure by standing around. “Is everyone getting on?” she called to Grace. “Yeah, we’re coming, we’re coming!” The crew, either scared of their captain’s shouting match, curious about the abandoned ship themselves, or both, all clambered on the gangplank, getting on board the galleon. The smell was almost overpowering to Florence at this point, and yet she couldn’t even describe it. Why was it so familiar…? “WAIT, WHERE THE HELL IS OUR SHIP?!” Florence raced over to the starboard side where Millicent and Winifred were. The Catastrophe was gone. “Did our ship sink?” the black vixen demanded. “No, there’d be bubbles, signs that she sank,” Emma said, the snow leopardess’s eyes showing a rare sign of emotion: fear. “Nothing. She just…vanished.” “Ships don’t vanish! She’s somewhere…keep searching! I’m going into the captain’s quarters, see if there’s anything there.” Florence barged into the captain’s quarters…only to see a long hall with a door at the end of it. Is this a jest? Then the door slammed behind her without any warning. She looked back for a moment...before moving forward towards the door ahead. Always go forward, never back; that was her personal motto. Nothing to do but go forward. She walked at a brisk pace, and yet the hall seemed to go on longer, a terrified voice in her head telling her not to go further. Florence, are you sure this is natural? It’s the treasure, shut up. But- SHUT UP! The black vixen ran towards the door angrily, only to see it tease her by stretching out further. The terrified feeling in her mind was screaming, but she swallowed it down and leapt towards the door…only to slam into it when it had moved without warning. She swore like a furious sailor (and she knew plenty enough words, having spent her entire life amongst ex-sailors), holding her bleeding snout, licking the blood off of her fur and paws with her tongue, dancing around with pain. When she was done, she took the handle and opened the door. Her brain stopped working for a second. Her eyes widened in sheer awe. Her brain told her eyes that this couldn’t be real, to look again. Her eyes told her brain that they were definitely looking, that this was definitely real. It was a room. Just a nondescript room with only one thing that separated it from the other nondescript rooms of the world: treasure. The treasure of The Dying Night was more than anyone could’ve ever imagined, beyond even Florence’s wildest dreams. Gold and silver of all kinds - coins, bars, goblets, necklaces, anything one could imagine - filled the room to the top, spilling out to her boots. Gemstones of all different colors dazzled within the gold and silver coins. Diamonds bigger than her paws; rubies, sapphires, emeralds, topaz, peridots, all of them as big as oranges. Dear God…this is…this is it! she thought excitedly. And it’s all ours. No, it’s all YOURS, a selfish part of her mind said. None of the others believed. Why shouldn’t it be yours? It’s not that they’ve ever done anything other than second guess you, doubt everything you say, even after everything you’ve done for them, even after all of the freedom you gave them. You’re the only one who believed in it all along. Why not you? But…they’re my friends. They deserve to share. Then you get the biggest share. You’re the captain, it’s yours by right. They get enough to start their stupid families. You get to live in luxury. Hmm…you…have a point…but not too much? No. Take it all, put it on the Catastrophe. It’s only one room full of treasure; you’ll have plenty of room on your ship. But… No buts! You can get this treasure on your ship, be a rich woman for the rest of your life, do whatever you want, with nobody to tell you “no”! That does sound awfully tempting… Then do it. Get the treasure on your ship. Give your merry band of cutthroats their meager share, take all of the rest, as is your right as captain. Well…okay… “CREW, I FOUND IT!” she shouted, opening the door behind her…to see the deck of The Dying Night, her crew staring at her in shock as coins spilled out. “Florence…we found it…” Grace whispered in shock. “No. I found it,” the vixen growled. “Therefore, I get the biggest share.” “That’s not how our code works!” the pantheress sputtered, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief at what her captain was saying. “Equal shares! Equal rights!” “REALLY? THEN WHO FOUND THE DAMN TREASURE? ME! I OPENED THE DOOR TO IT; YOU MERELY STOOD THERE AND WATCHED!” “Florence, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but this stops NOW!” Grace towered over Florence as she snarled at her captain. “We’ll take the treasure…but it WILL be equal shares, as according to the code you set!” The quartermistress’s voice got to something in her, and her eyes widened in shock. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t…I don’t know what came over me. It’s the first big score we’ve had, and I guess…I guess I lost my head. I’m sorry…” “It’s okay, just…we all believe in you,” Avis said, the cheetah giving the vixen a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. We’ll have enough to do whatever we want.” “The Catastrophe’s back!” Denise’s voice called…from the port side. The crew ran over to the port side, quickly noticing their beloved frigate, confused for a bit. “Wait, why is our ship on the opposite side?” Sybil asked. “We docked at the starboard side…” Cecily said nervously. “Let’s get it all on, then!” Florence shouted in a giddy tone. “Will we have enough room?” Denice asked, the lynx’s short tail curled between her legs. “That’s…a lot of treasure. And we still have to find room for food and drink…” “We did not come all this way, go through all of that danger to halftail everything and take less than what we deserve!” the black vixen growled. “We’re taking it all. I want to see everything, down to the last silver coin, on our ship. Let’s get moving!” The crew sighed, seeing the fox’s typical stubbornness come out again and quickly followed the order. Both captain and crew had gotten the chests from their ship, packing every bit of treasure they could find in, and when the daylight was fading, they had loaded the Catastrophe. Florence looked at the dilapidated galleon with the odd scent one last time with a strange emotion in her mind: regret. She was a fine ship, at one point, fitting for a pirate king or queen. What had happened to her to make it this way? Where was her crew? “That ship and her crew stole everything from me.” Florence whirled around, looking for the voice in confusion. It wasn’t any of her crew’s voices; it was old, raspy…wise. “Just imagining things,” the vixen said with a laugh, as she boarded her ship with her crew. She was going to leave this ship behind forever, get rich from the treasure, do whatever she wanted. The scent had carried over to the Catastrophe, and recognition came to Florence’s mind. She knew what the smell was. It was something she had thought she would never smell in her life again. “Why does everything smell like baby powder?” Isabel asked. “It’s just corn starch, Izzy,” Agnes growled. “Probably part of the dead ship, probably all the crew had to eat before they died themselves.” “No, I mean, this is…definitely corn starch used for baby powder,” the jaguaress insisted. “Oh, tosh-oo!” the cougaress sniffed and sneezed. “Bless ya-choo!” Grace sneezed. The crew was sneezing uncontrollably from the smell, almost choking on it, before it overpowered them, and the mist swirled over the ship, making it impossible to see. Florence could hear a loud voice burning a brand in her brain before everything went dark, and the voice echoed in the black. “You pirates are all the same. You took away my husband, my light, the love of my life. Not satisfied with that, you took our baby from me as well. Well, I am not cruel like you. You will find love yourselves if you take but a single coin…but it will not be the love you expect. And you will never be able to hurt anyone ever again. This is your curse, from now until the end of days.” “As for you, Florence Goodluck, you will receive the biggest blessing for your greed and selfishness. Pirate captains are selfish, greedy, cruel, evil monsters. The only difference is that you happened to be foolish enough to discount my warnings, unlike your brethren. Your crew will have freedom, but you never will. That is your blessing and your curse, from now until the end of days.” Then even the darkness faded into sheer nothingness. - Well, I hope you enjoyed, fellow reader~

So i just want to address the subject of proof you wrote a particular story 1, Proof is easy to do, just print the story out and mail it to yourself.. INAL but the copyright office has accepted this method in the past when registrations were challenged. So long as you have the first postmark date, and the seal is unbroken, at time of submission it's good enough for the govt. 2. A DMCA notice uses a different form of proof it requires you to swear under penalty of purgery that you own the copyright, and the person posting it had no right to post it ... The poster can issue a counter notice which then requires you to go to court and sue the poster or the post is restored. But people rarely file counter notices. Because it's an additional penalty ontop of the copyright damages. And it can result in possible criminal charges. I can only think of one instance in 18 years working in the hosting business on and off of seeing a counter notice filed

Well I really let myself get way too far behind on this story. It’s taken me several days to get caught back up. You have been doing an awesome job with it. It’s a pretty complex relationship you have created with Darlene and Avery and then further complicating things with throwing Christy into the mix. I think John is about finished. Letting a woman like Ashley loose on him, he doesn’t stand a chance. She is going to find a weakness and exploit it. I have to agree that this cliffhanger is a cruel thing and now that I have caught up I am forced to wait like everyone else. I should have waited a bit longer and then I could have just read on. I will be looking forward to seeing what happens next.

Damnit.... Just what I feared the most!!! FingerToes has mastered the art of leaving us on the edge of our seats!! 😁😂🤣😆😎

Hope you can finish cooking soon rsrs

We have a winner!

It's being worked on. Just gotta wait for the new chapter to finish baking. Can't take it out of the oven without the cheese all melting and the crust turning a beautiful golden brown... I probably should not be typing while hungry. Oh well!

Makes me wonder if the child services lady really put any effort. Into finding a home for Octy or if she just pulled up the first family on a list and it turned out to be the Gavins.

Yes, but it’s different for you. Your bedwetting is the result of a medical issue. You can’t help it. Nobody can or at least should judge you for a medical problem. None of that is true for me. Whatever … it’s a beautiful day, I wet in my sleep last night!

I am beginning to think that you live in a different world than I do. There are serial litigants out there. They file nuisance suits on a daily basis, dozens of suits filed every year. Most of these are dismissed by the first judge to see them, but soon after a similar suit is filed. It takes years, if ever before anything is done to stop them. Often they simply hoping that the defendant will just miss a court date. Exactly who would be liable for an Abuse of Process case? As for a lawsuit filed by Kimberly Clark or P&G over those names. While the case may be dismissed, it would also depend upon packaging, any advertising, even the font used, those companies would be asking for injections to stop sales, and placing other legal obstacles in the way. Remember that Coca Cola sues people over bottle shapes, Nike sues people over a swoosh, Beretta sued Chevrolet over their name. Best Western threatened to sue a place where I had worked over the shape and color of their sign.

I feel you. New to bedwetting, but it's brought me a ton of pleasure. I'm actually disappointed when I wake up and my diaper is still dry.

This will be the final chapter of the catchup of my over-writing frenzy. Hope y’all enjoy, chapter 26 and on will be Bethany and Ashley’s evening escapades, started writing 26 but it will be a minute, have a big event this weekend that is going to have me distracted but I hope to have more for you in the coming week. Chapter 25 Elizabeth was disconnected from the table and lifted down to her feet to stand next to Sharlese. It was her first time unrestrained and on both feet in her time so far that she was actually able to take in and fully compare herself. Elizabeth and Bethany were considered tall amongst amazons but Elizabeth found herself at best at eye level with Sharlese’s chest. Sharlese was truly a giantess, an extremely rare genetic variant of the Amazon genome, much more common than Ashley’s particular makeup but fairly uncommon. Even Max would have to look upwards a bit at Miss Sharlese which had Elizabeth in throws of awe and submission. She was so used to using her Amazon size to its advantages to overpower and overcome any and all problems but standing next to Sharlese she felt tiny. Both because she was shorter and because sharlese’s build was at least one and a half Elizabeth’s wide. “Come along.” Sharlese beckoned with a finger as she approached a secondary door inside of the nursery that Elizabeth had been curious about. Sharlese opened the door into an en-suite bathroom. There was a walk-in closet immediately inside the door on the right. Elizabeth peeked in and could see hangers loaded down with short dresses, long dresses, ridiculously puffy dresses, onesies, arrays of strappy leather items, a stockpile of diapers amongst the shelves in different variations and colour schemes. There were two black cabinets with the same locks as the crib and wardrobe, they were a little ominous with black roses, the stems covered in thorns, carved into the doors. There was another door at the end of the bathroom past the closet, it had a padlock running through a cast iron hinge sealing the door. Sharlese took note of her gaze and commented. “That is the water closet, you will be given limited access to the potty when you are a good girl as a reward.” Elizabeth noted that, clearly she would not be getting access at this point in time, she had noticed a bit of building pressure in her bladder and a toilet sounded nice after the constant string of diapers she had been in. Across from the closets was the shower and independent bathtub, both appeared to be extremely high end with extra nozzles and jets protruding from the surfaces of black granite with brass fittings. Sharlese opened the glass door of the shower for Elizabeth to step in. “You will need to be rinsed before your bath.” Sharlese followed her in which Elizabeth found a little odd then started pulling cables from the walls and floors to attach to the cuffs that were still on from the change. A button was pushed and the cable slack was snapped up before she heard the faint sound of electric motors behind the wall pulling her. She only resisted for a moment but they proved to be unyielding. She realised she was headed towards the position Bethany had put her in the previous morning, was she really going to be starting this morning with an enema too? The motors stopped when her palms were against the wall and her feet were spread to the outer edges of the shower which was a much wider split than she had done the previous morning. Sharlese pulled a plastic cap over Elizabeth’s hair and made sure it was all tucked in before a blindfold was pulled over her eyes. Elizabeth was left for only a brief moment before she felt something against her lips, it felt like the pacifier bulb which her body couldn’t resist for some reason. She regretted the decision when straps were pulled around her head and secured. “Since you refused your morning bottle, we will double it for your shower.” Sharlese said as a tube was connected to the front of the pacifier and a valve turned which let the sweet formula flow into Elizabeth’s mouth. She felt some shocks in her tongue and recognized she had just been fitted with a trainer pacifier to encourage her to suck down the formula. Some of the fullness had subsided at this point but a double serving of the massive bottle she had seen would surely pop her. Sharlese seemed to have stepped out of the shower but only for a moment before she felt something probing her back door. She let out a little yelp as something slid in and she could hear the sound of a pressure cuff pump bulb being squeezed. The object inside her expanded little by little until it became almost uncomfortable and she let out a little yelp. Sharlese gave the bulb two more pumps for good measure and dropped it, letting it swing between Elizabeth’s legs. The sound of the sliding glass door could be heard before she heard the hiss of steam being pumped into the enclosure as the coolness subsided and was replaced with the warm embrace of thick humid air. She heard the rush of water after a few minutes and felt multiple streams hit her body all at once from several directions. Finally what she dreaded most, the plug in her began to introduce warm water into her bowels. It seemed to be an automated enema as it would only pump in a small amount of water and then quickly evacuate it before adding a fresh supply. Each time it made a cycle it would increase the amount by a low percentage. This treatment went on for 15 minutes and Elizabeth couldn’t say she hated it. The water was warm and relaxing and honestly the enema felt refreshing. The thing she didn’t like was the constant stream of formula filling her mouth and the bloated tummy feeling she was getting from it. Her tummy was bulging out from the large serving of oatmeal and the heavy formula sloshing around inside her. It took away some of her physique and gave her the appearance of baby fat. Finally the water shut down and a flow of hot air was pushed through the shower to dry her skin. Sharlese must have stepped into the shower because she felt her pacifier being pulled away and her restraints being released, the blindfold leading the shower cap before she was helped out of the shower. Sharlese guided her to the tub where she stepped into the warm bubble bath that had been prepared. It smelled of flowers, not as sweet as something she’d use on a little but very fragrant. The nanny gently scrubbed Elizabeth’s skin with a soft loofah until she was practically glistening. Aside from the forced feeding and enema, Elizabeth imagined this must be how queens live, waited on and bathed by someone else. She’d gladly accept that bit of humiliation for this sort of treatment. Her hair was brushed before Sharlese used a cup to scoop water from the bath and gently pour water over her head. She used her hand on the girl's forehead to shield her eyes from the water as she wet her hair down. Shampoo was gently massaged into her scalp followed by a rinse and a second shampooing and rinse. Finally oils and conditioners were applied that had her black hair practically mirror-like and shiny beyond any regimen she had ever come up with. She was in such bliss that the growing pressure in her bladder and over-full feeling in her stomach seemed to flow down the drain with the spent water after Sharlese pulled the plug. She was helped out of the tub and stood on a mat while Sharlese dried her off with the softest, fluffiest towel she had ever felt. She really, really, really could get very used to this. She was guided out of the bathroom and back to the changing table. She knew she was coming to the end of her stay here and would have to return home in a diaper to avoid the wrath of the LCU and Bethany. Sharlese gave her a little lift onto the changing table, not that she needed any help, and pulled a strap across her chest, covering her nipples and giving her a bit of modesty. A diaper was pulled from under the table and unfolded before being slid under Elizabeth with her legs lifted by her ankles before being lowered back down onto the padding. “Master Guildroy has been in contact with Miss Bethany to let her know your whereabouts and safety and guarantee her that you will be promptly returned home in the conditions mandated by your commands. He also recommended that I ensure your journey home be memorable and enjoyable.” With that comment, Elizabeth felt Sharlese slide the large, well lubricated diaper trainer between her legs. She was immediately greeted with locking confirmation vibrations and pleasant fullness that elicited a soft moan and a flood of excited memories. She was quickly powdered and the diaper sealed. It was a similar diaper to the one that Elizabeth had sent with her in her purse but seemed a bit thinner. She was then released from the table and stood in the centre of the nursery. A tight bra was pulled over her head, sports bra esque but designed more so to look like a training bra. It was simple black with purple roses covering the fabric and it held Elizabeth’s large chest tight and removed any sort of bounce she may have had in a normal bra. Next was a dark purple onesie with a black lace Peter Pan collar and lace cuffs around her bicep and thigh. It would be pretty cute on its own but Elizabeth hoped she’d get a bit more than just a onesie. Around the waist was a stiff band of canvas that acted as a belt and the Amazon curves of her hips guaranteed that when Sharlese pulled it tight, it would be locked in place. An integrated strap that started at her belly button, connected to the belt, was pulled up between her legs and tightened. It held the soft padding of the diaper against her skin and sank in the trainer so that it didn’t have any chances of moving. The strap was wide between her thighs and despite being in a thinner diaper, the tightness of the padding bowed her thigh apart a little and she’d have to be conscious of the waddle it would generate. The pain in Elizabeth’s bladder reared its ugly head. Now that her diaper was covered by the onesie she couldn’t help but be tempted to relieve some of that pressure, especially with the trainer. She didn’t want to soak the diaper completely and have to ride home in a wet diaper especially when she didn’t know how long the ride would be. The Nanny held up the next article to be added to her ensemble, a pair of black short dungarees. The shoulder straps had some very mild frills same with the leg holes and the front panel had Max’s crest embroidered into the left breast in all black thread. As Elizabeth lifted her leg to step in she very carefully opened up her bladder to let a small trickle into the waiting diaper. The trainer kicked to life on a low hum and carried through until she clamped back down. She wasn’t expecting the trainer to chirp loudly from inside of her diaper, causing her to turn red as Sharlese looked up with a knowing expression from her squatted position holding the dungarees open for her to step into. “You must have a bit of experience with the trainer.” Sharlese smirked seeing Elizabeth’s flushed face. “It is very tempting to play with isn’t it. If you’re not careful, you’ll be begging for diapers in no time.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure she’d be begging necessarily to be in diapers but the thoughts of the previous orgasms she had with the trainer excited her and deep down she knew it already had a hold on her despite the fact that she had to wet a diaper to use it properly. The dungarees were lifted and pulled over Elizabeth’s hips before Sharlese stepped behind her and pulled the straps over her shoulders and snapped them behind her back in the unreachable spot between her shoulder blades with a very audible click. Elizabeth knew immediately that the click was a locking mechanism and that she was now trapped in the shortalls. “A driver has already left an envelope with the key at your sister’s apartment for you. She was guided over to a vanity mirror where she could take in the look. It was cute, not too childish but also not fully adult. The onesie just looked like an adult singlet she’d wear to have the tight tucked look. Her breasts were still noticeable but dramatically reduced by the tight bra. The legs of the dungarees were short and tight and hugged her thighs a little lower than her favourite pair of short shorts she wore on the weekend to taunt her little charges with adult clothing. The diaper underneath would only be noticeable from its soft rustle as she moved around but it wasn’t immediately visually apparent. She was sat in the chair of the vanity and Sharlese went about blow drying and styling her hair into a complicated Viking braid that started from the perimeter of her face with a smaller braids on either side of her head that ran back over her shoulder and a large braid from the top centre and back. Her bangs were combed out and curled over her forehead in a thin curtain that landed just above her eyebrows. Again it was very cute but somewhere in between the childish and adult aesthetic. Sharlese used a small micro razor and some tweezers to finely tune her eyebrows just a little into a thinner shape and went about applying makeup. Elizabeth didn’t know why she was getting such a treatment for just returning home but again, the luxury of being cared for and primped and preened felt nice. The pain in her bladder was back again and she decided to release just a bit more while she sat in the chair as Sharlese worked on her. The trainer kicked up the level and she had to stifle a gasp as it fired up to her release. She had to remind herself after regaining composure to stem the flow lest she soak the diaper too early. Again the trainer chirped and Sharlese gave her a little smile in the mirror as she drew on some wings from the corner of her eyes. A very light blush was added and quick sealing powder finished the job. She looked like a porcelain doll when Sharlese was done. Next were socks and shoes. Some black thigh highs with purple lace around her thigh squeezed the little bit of pudge over the elastic band and the ensemble was completed with a pair of purple Velcro trainers with a black sole that completed the outfit. “We are a bit behind schedule so if you will follow me down to the car we can leave promptly.” Sharlese said as she held out a hand for Elizabeth. Elizabeth gingerly pinched the nanny’s fingers and was led out of the nursery and downstairs to the courtyard she had walked across dressless the previous night. Outside was one of the large black SUV’s she had seen in the garage the previous night. A tweener gentleman stood by the rear passenger door and opened it for Elizabeth as the pair approached. Sharlese gave a quick ‘thank you’ then looked at Elizabeth who did the same shortly after realizing she needed to use her manners. Elizabeth was not fully prepared for what she saw behind the door of the SUV. The seat that was available to her was a large car seat. Part of the rear row of seats had been removed to make room for the Amazon sized carrier permanently affixed inside the cabin. An automatic step folded down and Elizabeth was guided to the door and up the step before Sharlese’s hands took her hips and guided her down into the seat. The series of straps that bound her to the seat were intense. One across her hips, below and above her breasts, one over each thigh, cuffs on both calves and ankles, wrists bound to the sides of the bumpers that came up to hug her hips along with straps over her biceps and one well padded wide strap around her neck. Blinder wings came around either side of her head which meant she wouldn’t be able to see out either window on either side and the SUV was built limousine style with a wall dividing the driver from the passengers with a wide blacked out window in the centre. The final strap was a crotch strap that Elizabeth knew was included because what car seat is complete without one. Sharlese gave it an extra tug which gained a gasp from Elizabeth as she felt it push down on her fun button and immediately understood why little’s like their crotch straps so tight in the car. Sharlese closed her door and startled Elizabeth a little when she entered the cab in the seat next to her from the other side. She leaned forward and pushed a small button on a built-in screen in front of the restrained girl and shut the car door. A moment later she felt the engine startup as the monitor in front of her booted up some little tv show. She didn’t really pay attention at first then boredom set in and she began watching more and more intently. It was kind of silly and the built in adult sub contexts and innuendo that would be over the heads of a little were quite funny. She found herself forgetting about the pressure in her bladder as the car moved down the road. So much so that when the episode ended and the screen popped up a display of Max’s face she startled a little and lost her grip and let out a longer than previous streams which fired the trainer up at a new level before she managed to get herself under control. “How’s my little Fox this morning?” Max asked and Elizabeth realised it was a video call and he had surely heard the chirp of the trainer. She turned red and looked down as far as the car seat would allow her head to tilt in embarrassment. “I’m very good.” Elizabeth replied after getting her breathing under control. “How was Miss Sharlese? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there this morning. Next time Daddy will be there to help out, I promise.” He said with a knowing smirk. “She is quite wonderful, very adept. Maybe I’d be as good a nanny as her if I had that much experience.” Elizabeth said a little excitedly. As she heard Miss Sharlese clear her throat next to her which made her blush. “That’s good to hear. I had a wonderful evening with you and would like to see you again. I’m going to be a bit busy for a couple of days and was hoping we could schedule another date.” Max said. Elizabeth blushed crimson at the flattery and tried to hide her face again. “I’d like that.” She practically whispered back. “But I need to talk to Bethany first and make sure it’s okay.” She spoke up a bit. “I’ve already spoken to her this morning and she said as long as you want to come out, you’re allowed to. So long as you’re a good girl at home though.” Max said, causing Elizabeth to blush at being treated like a little being picked up for a playdate. “Now, I believe I caught you in the middle of something. I have the trainer set to step up the vibration levels with every wetting. Sharlese has told me that you had two accidents already this morning with trainer and that would mean that was your third. The fourth will be at maximum power but if you just trickle like you have been I doubt it will do much for you. And if you have a full release after the fourth, it will only punish you for holding it. I suggest your next accident finishes the job but you may know better than Daddy and might need to learn a lesson.” Max explained. Elizabeth knew that realistically the third hadn’t really relieved enough pressure and her bladder was aching. Along with the thoughts of the sweet orgasmic release she’d get if she fully let go it was very tempting. “Do you want to have your accident away from daddy? Somewhere a bit more private like the elevator at the apartment, granted you may be stuck in the elevator with someone which could be hard to explain. I could also torment you, set the schedule for the vibrator to start delivering punishment shocks as soon as you step out of the car. Lots of fun options to choose from. I’ve asked the driver to drive very slowly and carefully because of the precious cargo in the back seat. The drive may take over an hour to get you back.” Max explained. He was devious and his dominant takes of control from Elizabeth had her in throws of submission. “Sharlese, could you be a doll and give Little Lizzie her pacifier.” Max asked as Sharlese pulled out a purple pacifier and slid it into Elizabeth’s mouth without a moment of hesitation. “I’ll let you get back to your cartoons but I will be keeping an eye on you with the cameras as I have been this whole time.” Max said which made Elizabeth’s eyes open wide in disbelief. “Yes, sweetie, I have the whole mansion covered in cameras and especially the nursery. I watched quite a bit of your morning while the boring old heads ran circles around each other in my meeting. I will say you look absolutely precious and I hope you enjoy your gifts. Enjoy your ride and listen to your nanny.” Max said before his camera cut away and the cartoons flipped back on. Elizabeth was a little nervous to act right away. Her bladder was begging for the release and her libido kept taunting her with horny thoughts of the intense orgasm she’d get for wetting. But she kept trying to push down those thoughts as she knew Max was watching and Sharlese was right next to her. Her mind justified that she had her first experience with the trainer right in front of her older sister and littles constantly were being watched as they wet themselves and made stickies in their nappies. She decided to focus back on the cartoons to distract her mind and that did an excellent job. She made it another ten minutes into the car ride before she suddenly started feeling wet between the legs. In fact she had released her bladder without noticing at all and her first instinct was to clench back down but she refrained when she felt the powerful max level trainer fire up. She couldn’t stop herself now even if she wanted to, it felt so good to wet her diaper. Her breathing accelerated through her nose and she closed her eyes as the waves of pleasure washed over her while she nursed the pacifier for comfort. She was in her own little world as she soaked herself and the trainer praised her for wetting. It praised her so well that she came twice before she was finished and lay limp in the restraints of the car seat. “Good girl little Lizzie, good girl.” Sharlese praised her as she came into view and gently patted Elizabeth’s brow with a small pink handkerchief. Elizabeth blushed as she realised she had just put on a show for both Max and Sharlese. A small text box popped into the corner of the monitor in front of Elizabeth with the praise “good girl, my little fox,” the sender information only read Daddy and Elizabeth would have passed out from blush overload at the praise from Max as she gave the pacifier a few involuntary suckles. Now that her diaper was wet and she was more sensitive from the orgasms, the crotch strap really began to do a number on her. Each little bump felt like a hill and she had all these tingly sensations in her tummy. The squish of the fully soaked and warm diaper added a strange sensation. She knew she was sensitive from her orgasms and the added moisture from her accident made her feel like she was excessively horny wet in her diaper. It was an interesting feeling and the crotch strap kept making itself apparent as she involuntarily tried to start grinding her wet padding into the strap. She tried to keep the moans low and act like she was watching the cartoons in front of her as she suckled the pacifier. “Is the strap too tight sweetie?” Sharlese’s question came out of nowhere and broke her train of thought as she froze. Elizabeth shook her head ‘no’ and blushed. A bump in the road caused her to groan into the pacifier as the strap dug into the diaper with a dip. Sharlese’s hand came to the strap and gently cupped Elizabeth’s soaked padding through her shortalls. “I can loosen it for you if it’s making you uncomfortable.” Elizabeth could hear the smirk in her voice, she’d do the same thing to littles in the car when shapperoning them around. Elizabeth tried to hold herself back but found her head shaking ‘no’ almost immediately in response. She blushed thinking about how far she had fallen, she was desperately horny, something about this submissive side of herself had her constantly on edge and the humiliating attention was almost too much. “Suit yourself little fox.” Sharlese said as she pulled away to sit back in her seat. Elizabeth went back to watching the cartoons and very carefully tried to grind into the strap undetected, completely forgetting there was a camera pointed right at her with Max more than likely watching on the other end. Then she had a thought, if she wet just a little more, maybe the trainer would stir her a little more while she ground on the strap, she figured she was pretty empty after letting go previously but tried to relax her muscles and let out some more flow. To her surprise, she felt the padding get warmer again and the trainer started up on the lowest setting again. With the strap of the car seat aiding she was able to bring herself to the edge again and pushed forward with all she had into the strap to bring herself over. She crumpled back into the car seat again as the trainer chirped to let everyone know what she had just done. “Best be careful little fox, I didn’t put you in a thick diaper and you’re probably already coming close to capacity. If I had known you were such a heavy daytime wetter as you were at nighttime I would have chosen more noticeable padding. I’d hate for you to leak and spoil your nice clothes, if we need to pull over at a rest stop to change you just let me know.” Sharlese said which caused Elizabeth’s cheeks to burn anew at the thoughts of being changed in public and the humiliation of leaking through a diaper. Luckily there wasn’t much of the journey left and Elizabeth was feeling content so the tight strap between her legs only kept the embers of her arousal at a low warmth so she didn’t feel the need to act as desperately. There was a familiar turn and bump as they pulled into the apartment’s underground garage and she felt the SUV come to a halt. She heard Sharlese’s seat belt unbuckle and her door open, a moment later Elizabeth’s door swung open and Sharlese reached in to start undoing the restraints. Elizabeth was helped out of the car and stretched a little when she got on her own feet. Sharlese had a black and purple bag slung over her shoulder that matched Elizabeth’s current aesthetic. As she looked at the bag it became apparent that it was a diaper bag and the colour scheme matching her own outfit would only mean one thing to others. Her legs were a little wobbly and Sharlese took her arm to help support her. “You might have played a little too much in the car sweetie, we’ll have to be careful with the next ride.” She said before she pulled the pacifier from Elizabeth’s lips and deposited it in her side pocket. Elizabeth had completely forgotten about the pacifier until Sharlese’s finger had hooked into the ring and pulled it from her mouth. “Now, do you know how to get back home from here?” Sharlese asked, looking down at Elizabeth who seemed to shrink a little with the nanny’s gaze. She nodded her head ‘yes’ bashfully. “Then lead the way, I need to have a word with your big sister and drop off your personal effects.” Elizabeth was a little stunned that she had to escort the nanny back to her sister’s apartment but looked up with determination and stepped forward. The soggy padding between her legs was cooling a bit and the added mass of her multiple wettings, big and small, made her unknowingly waddle a bit to keep the damp padding away from her skin. Sharlese watched from behind as her hips swayed and her slightly wider gate gave away the diaper to anyone who was keen, which for the most part was anyone who had ever seen a diapered little. The parking garage was empty and only one couple coming out of the second elevator caught a glimpse of Elizabeth who darted into their open elevator as soon as the doors opened. Sharlese pushed the floor button for the elevator, she knew where she was going all along but part of the mind games when working with a little or submissive was letting them have some control and charge. Elizabeth hadn’t even noticed that Sharlese had pushed the right button for the elevator as she leaned against the wall, staring at the floor with rosey cheeks. She’d realise later that she had been played once she got over the embarrassment of almost being seen but in the moment she was buried in her own thoughts in her head. The elevator rose and the doors opened, Sharlese “tsked” a little under her breath, hoping to have some other resident join them for the elevator ride to see the adorable blush of Elizabeth. Alas, they departed the elevator and Elizabeth made a speedy exit and moved down the hallway to Bethany’s door. “I’ll have to get you a harness and leash for next time if you’re going to take off without your nanny like that little Lizzie.” Sharlese quietly said as she caught up with Elizabeth. Sharlese knocked on the door for Elizabeth who was a blushing mess holding her dungaree’s straps tightly from the comment. Each time Sharlese made a move to embarrass her she seemed to regress a little bit further. ‘She is quite the catch Master Guildroy’ Sharlese thought to herself before the door opened.

Few things show the demographics of DD like a topic like this. Guys, if you want to disagree with science and evidence then be my guest, there is unfortunately nothing I can do to make you see reason. But some of the posts here are crossing a line. Making disparaging comments about mental health issues and neurodivergencies does nothing but make you look bad. She's a young woman who believes in something and is out there trying to make a difference. You don't have to agree but you do have to follow the rules here (ie. "don't be a dick.")

You people are all horrible. She has something she believes in and stands up for it. You question her motives, and you are suggesting murder. The media made her the icon she is. There are hundreds and thousands of climate activists but none of them will get any press if she shows up.

Chapter 24 “Good morning Miss Lizzie, I am your Nanny, Sharlese.” The woman said with a smile and a slight foreign accent. Now that Elizabeth was wide awake she did another take of the woman. She was wearing a grey dress with the top above her chest and to her collar in pure white. The sleeves of the dress were very prestinely rolled up to just above her elbows and had been ironed flat into the sharpest, straightest edge possible. She had a maroon beret atop her head of pure white hair that was in a military style braid draped over her shoulder and was wearing glasses with perfect circle lenses just smaller than her eyes perched on her nose with their delicate wire frame. The chest of the dress had some sort of crest insignia embroidered on the right breast, a company logo that Elizabeth didn’t recognize even being a nanny herself. The woman was physically large, she wasn’t all toned muscle like Max but had a very matronly build. Her perfect appearance left a very dominant aura hanging in the air and her sapphire blue eyes looked down through the bars at Elizabeth asserting dominance without any action or word. “W-where’s Max Miss Sharlese?” Elizabeth was finally able to ask, still trapped in the cage of the crib and bound up in the sleeper. “He had to take an early morning meeting that he put off to be with you last evening. He has asked me to step in this morning to aid you in your morning routine. I am well aware of your particular circumstances little Lizzie. Now, would you like to get up, it is quite early still as the sun has just risen and we wouldn’t want a cranky baby.” Sharlese explained in her accent that Elizabeth still couldn’t place. Elizabeth was a bit taken aback being called a baby and little but a quick thought of the current predicament validated Miss Sharlese’s words with a blush. Elizabeth pondered for a moment if she was ready to get up but she was quite stiff from spending the night bound in the sleeper. She decided since she was being offered she might as well get up and her chances of falling back asleep with the nanny here were slim. She nervously responded “now would be good… nanny.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how deep this scenario was. From her own experiences, she was accustomed to punishing littles for insincerity and lack of reform, clearly defining roles and following rules was the best course of action in this situation as she wasn’t ready for a morning spanking. “Very well.” The nanny responded before extracting a key from a hip pocket and opening the locks on the lid of the crib and dropping the side. She leaned over Elizabeth and with seeming ease and hoisted the diapered amazon from the crib onto her hip. Elizabeth was carried to the changing table of the nursery. A strap was brought across her stomach to keep her pinned to the table despite the bumpers that would keep her from rolling off. Sharlese pulled a pacifier from her pocket and slid the clean bulb into Elizabeth’s mouth without any fuss. It had a strange taste to it that reminded her of the previous night’s closing activity that honestly made her mouth water as she sucked naturally and blushed. Elizabeth began to look around the nursery for the first time with light now that she had a moment. The furniture of the room was all dark stained hardwood, close to black but not quite, it all had a reddish hue to it underneath the stain that with the right angle of lighting was very pretty. There was a large wardrobe in the corner with a key hole in the centre of the doors for the main cabinet and the foot drawers below each had the same. She looked at the crib next, the sheets were a dark forest green that reminded her of Max’s eyes and she noticed the three brass keyholes along the top rail that locked the lid down, it was the same design on the dresser. Elizabeth assumed the same key that Sharlese had used to free her from the crib would unlock everything in here. There was a large vanity near the wardrobe. It matched the other furnitures’ aesthetic or stained wood and instead of series of bulbs to outline the mirror as was common, there were fake candles with candle shaped bulbs. There wasn’t anything on the top of the vanity desk which Elizabeth assumed meant that everything was stored in the drawers away from prying eyes and curious hands. Specifically her curious hands and prying eyes. There was a large black rocking chair towards the foot of the changing table. With a green velvet cushion and backrest, again in the same colour as the crib’s sheets. Each piece of furniture was covered with delicately carved gothic style accents that matched the crown moulding around the ceiling of the room. The walls were a light grey that complimented the black and green theme along with the creamy white carpet and ceiling. She had only caught a glimpse of the rug in the centre of the room but Elizabeth knew the forest green emblem had to be Max's family seal. It all gave Elizabeth a tingly sensation in her tummy, she was sure she had grown out of the goth phase but the unique nursery was unlike any she had seen before and the gothic Lolita aesthetic resonated with her despite never having been able to dress that way with work and school. She secretly had a whole Pinterest board dedicated to the theme and her black hair and golden eyes would be a perfect match. It felt mature but at the same the outfits were so cute and little esque just in dark bold colours as opposed to the bright pastels that littles wore. Miss Sharlese undid the first restraint binding Elizabeth’s arm but kept a hold on her wrist to keep her from extending her arm. Slowly and methodically, the nanny began to massage Elizabeth’s arm from the shoulder to the elbow with her free hand slowly let her arm extend while working down. The massage felt glorious and Elizabeth felt like she was melting at the deep muscle soothing. As her arm was fully extended she could tell that the massage was much needed, being bound during the night had her cramped up and if she had just extended her arm immediately after release she knew she’d be in pain. The process was repeated with her other arm and then her legs. The fabric of the sleeper encasing her felt luxurious throughout the process and she would’ve found herself falling back asleep to the massage had she not been so self conscious of her current situation and completely red in the face. A practical stranger she had spent the night with had hired another stranger to be her caretaker. It seemed a little absurd and the Nanny not even flinching to the sight of an Amazon in a crib was a little questionable. “You may ask a few questions and I will try to answer within my bounds.” Miss Sharlese explained as she bicycle pumped Elizabeth’s legs up into her chest how a parent may for a baby to induce a bowel movement, the plug would ensure against that but Elizabeth would be lying if she said that it didn’t feel like it was increasing the pressure in her backside. Sharlese had seen the expression on Elizabeth’s face and was astute enough to recognize pondering. She had also been told the bounds she was to work in and had thoroughly read the contract she had signed with the owner of the international shipping agency that supplied her foundation with materials. She had had her suspicions about him and had been waiting for the day he called her up for her services. “Who do you work for?” Elizabeth finally formed her first question while her arms were worked in helicopter motions at the elbow to restore rotation, staring at the emblem on the nanny’s chest still trying to decipher the embroidered logo. The nanny noted the adorable lisp the pacifier created in the Amazon charge’s mouth and smiled a little. Sharlese giggled a little at the question before her response. “I am on assignment and on loan to Master Guildroy from the White Lotus Foundation.” The logo made sense now to Elizabeth who could see the flower design within the image but it was still a very complex logo and Elizabeth knew there was something more to it. The strap holding her down was undone and she was flipped onto her stomach for access to the panel sealing the zipper of the sleeper. Elizabeth turned her head to the side, looking away from the nanny to ask her next question. “Am I… am I your first Amazon charge Miss Sharlese? Is it strange or weird that an Amazon woman is in diapers being treated as a baby?” She asked a little hesitantly. “I’m not allowed to fully disclose that particular information but no, you are not my first Amazon. I also don’t find it strange or weird as you put it to have an amazon charge. Everyone has needs, wants, and different upbringings that lead to different development. From what I can tell, you slip into this role very easily and from my experience that’s an upbringing that speaks of growing up too fast and neglect. This side of you is a defence mechanism and outlet for relaxation and release from the burdens you have been saddled with.” Miss Sharlese explained, hitting the nail right on the head and bringing up the dream Elizabeth had had overnight. “The White lotus foundation only works with willing participants whether they be little, tweener, or amazon. I, or a member from my group, will be your trainer in a way to help you accept your position below Master Guildroy and determine what your limits and boundaries are. Some things are non-negotiable but I will help you accept those things.” The nanny explained simply while giving Elizabeth more to digest. The zipper was brought down quickly which allowed the cool air of the nursery into the sleeper and a shiver to run down Elizabeth's spine. She was flipped back over and her arms extracted from the garment and pulled down exposing her chest. Her legs were lifted next and the feet of the sleeper were pulled until it was free and discarded into the laundry hamper, leaving Elizabeth in just her wet diaper that caused her hands to come up and cover her blushing face while she nursed the pacifier a little more aggressively. Elizabeth had formed her next question by this point. “What sort of things are non-negotiable to Max?” She asked a little worried that it may be things that are too far out of her comfort zone to accept. “To answer that you will have to experience it.” Miss Sharlese explained. Elizabeth was a little frightened by the response but she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. She had no clothes, she was still in a diaper and plugged which had built up an obscene amount of pressure in her bowels overnight. She was at the mercy of the nanny and just based on how prestigious and professional this woman seemed along with her clear advantages she didn’t really have any option otherwise. She really didn’t want to test the Nanny and end up over her lap, that would be hard to explain to Bethany when she got home, why she had a red bottom, especially after she had spent the night out at a man’s house, there would already be enough prying on their activities as it stood. Miss Sharlese took hold of the first tape of the diaper and pried it away from the landing strip. The process was repeated to every tape until Elizabeth felt the front of the diaper relax away from her skin. She peaked out from behind her fingers and watched as the diaper was pulled away. “My my, you did quite a number on that diaper and you didn’t even stir slightly in your sleep.” Miss Sharlese commented as she extracted the diaper from under Elizabeth and balled it up, taping it closed on itself before dropping it in the diaper bin. Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment at the bedwetting comment, she really had flooded the diaper in her sleep and hadn’t even noticed it. She put on a set of latex gloves and commented. “We’ll have to remove this but I expect you to hold it in until I get your diaper change finished.” Miss Sharlese commented as she firmly pushed against the base of the plug, eliciting a yelp from Elizabeth and a new shade of red in her cheeks. It was still cold inside of her which had been a constant reminder of its presence, she figured it must be a high end ice plug that stayed cool constantly so the wearer couldn’t become accustomed to it. “But we can take this out for now” Sharlese said as she took hold of the tail of the vibrator that was still left inside her from the previous night. She hadn’t even noticed that she was turned on and self lubricating at the attention and humiliation from the nanny who easily pulled the vibe out in a gentle and slow movement. A few warmed wet wipes ensured Elizabeth was clean enough for a new diaper and wiped away the faint scent of sex that had been marinating in her diaper with her nighttime accidents. Elizabeth couldn’t watch as a new diaper was pulled from under the changing table and was unfolded and fluffed out. Miss Sharlese expertly slid the diaper under Elizabeth’s bottom and applied a bit of oil and powder before her hand moved to the plug. “Deep breath now and make sure you hold it in.” Elizabeth just now came to the realisation that the reason she had to hold it in was so that she would fill the diaper. She really didn’t want to poop her pants but knew if she didn’t follow that instruction this nanny could probably come up with some pretty nefarious punishments. Lost in her train of thought, she had realised that the nanny had taken hold of the base of the plug and was already pulling. She let out another yelp that masked her moan as the girth of the plug exited her rear. Sharlese kept a little forward pressure on the plug to keep Elizabeth from expelling it quicker as the taper of the plug helped itself out of the girl. Elizabeth clenched her muscles with all of her might to hold back the pressure that had built overnight. Being plugged all night had dramatically fatigued her sphincter and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold for long. Sharlese set the plug aside and quickly folded the diaper between Elizabeth’s legs in case she couldn’t hold out. The tapes were pulled tight on the diaper, granted a little slowly to test the girl before the nanny reached for the strap holding her down. Elizabeth didn’t even make it that long as her body fought to expel its waste. She groaned and whispered “noooo” as her stomach clenched and she gave an involuntary push. Miss Sharlese paused from unbuckling Elizabeth as her hands came down from her face to grip the sides of the changing table as her body put in all of its effort to relieve itself. It felt like she had more waste than amazonly possible as she lightly shook under the cramped pushing for what felt like an hour. The diaper swelled dramatically under the load that had been deposited and Elizabeth could feel the mush filling every corner of the seat of the garment. 10 minutes after losing the fight, and panting a little on the table, Elizabeth’s body felt like it was 10 pounds lighter. The relief was immense and she hadn’t noticed how bad she had to go with the plug still inside her. “That was very naughty little Lizzie.” Sharlese commented as she looked down with disappointment at Elizabeth. “B-but I held it in for the diaper.” Elizabeth said blushing. “You’ll note that I said hold it in until your change was finished. You are still on the changing table, therefore the change was not finished. We will have to correct that and I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk back to your nanny. If you had talked back to the master like that I’m sure his punishment would be much worse than mine will be.” Elizabeth froze hearing the “will be.” She knew she shouldn’t have talked back or tried to dispute the nanny, she’d punish her charges as well for that kind of comment. “Y-yes nanny.” Elizabeth finally stuttered out as the buckle for the strap holding her down was released, trying to earn at least a few brownie points to minimise the damages. Elizabeth was lifted from the table and set on the floor on all fours. It forced her to look up at Sharlese who looked even bigger now that she stood menacingly over her. Sharlese turned and in two strides was at the rocking chair. “Come here.” Was the command followed by a finger that pointed to the floor next to her leg. Elizabeth knew she was to crawl over and sit next to the nanny and promptly did so, her diapered bottom swaying in the air as she quickly made the move. The load in her diaper was causing it to droop between her legs and she was a little grateful to have a moment of reprieve from the mush. Elizabeth took up her position next to the nanny and sat with her hands between her knees but hovering a little to keep the diaper off the floor and from squishing the mess back into her skin. She was still naked aside from the diaper but surprisingly wasn’t feeling bashful about her nudity but was more so embarrassed by the stink filling the air around her which overrode any other embarrassment. “Being a nanny yourself, I imagine you know what is coming. We will begin after you’ve properly taken your position.” Sharlese said as she looked down over her nose. Elizabeth knew what she meant and slowly lowered her bottom into the mess with a slight grimace, casting her eyes to the floor between her legs as her full weight sank into the messy padding. It was the first time she looked at the diaper since being in it. It was a deep purple colour with white stars cascading across the surface. She recognized it as an Amazon sized version of a little’s diaper she occasionally saw. She let her knees out a little to get comfortable in the W sitting position with her palms on the floor, fully settling into her waste. “Very good, you can be a good girl after all. I’m glad you have experience so I won’t have to fully train you. But, with your experience you should know better to begin with and will be held to a higher standard from the get go. Now, up.” Sharlese said, giving her lap a gentle pat with her hand. Elizabeth followed the order, knowing she had no other choice. She draped herself across the large legs of the Amazon sitting in the rocking chair, her padded posterior aimed up in the air. “For now we will start with 10 for talking back to your nanny.” Sharlese said as she let her hand fly forward into the seat of Elizabeth’s diaper. The mush seemed to explode against her skin and stick the diaper to her bottom. The blow was intense for Elizabeth and she let out a little squeak from the abrupt impact. Sharlese was even more in tune with her spanking abilities as she expertly landed blow after blow. The final strike broke Elizabeth as she let the tears out finally and quietly sobbed over her reddened bottom. “Very good, you're such a brave girl.” Sharlese said as she repositioned the Amazon into her lap and cuddled her into her substantial bosom. The praise felt good and Elizabeth calmed down almost immediately to the hand stroking her head. Sharlese was impressed with how easy this amazon in her lap submitted. The ones she typically worked with would need lots of work to pull out the submissive side they craved, Elizabeth seemed almost naturally submissive which was a rarity amongst amazons. “For being such a good girl, we’ll do a little horsey ride as your punishment for not holding it and forgo the remainder of the spanking.” Sharlese said as she repositioned Elizabeth onto her knees. Elizabeth was bouncing up and down before she could react to the much stronger amazon that was tossing her around as if she were a little. Sharlese’s hands supported her hips as she moved up and down the mush in her diaper spreading out just the tiny bit more that it could after the spanking. The ride was causing all sort of conflicting emotions to bounce around in her body with each jolt. It felt good in the diaper the way it rubbed her but her mind kept trying to tell her it was disgusting to take pleasure from her own poop squishing around inside a diaper against her skin. Overall the pleasure won out and her vision filled with stars as she achieved orgasm with a soft moan and a tense body as Sharlese quit bouncing and let her ride out the high. It was truly fascinating to Sharlese how easy this Amazon was. Max sure knew how to pick them and if she hadn’t already been claimed by Max, Sharlese would have put in her own bid for the Amazon girl in her lap. She knew she was going to enjoy this and understood why she hadn’t heard from Master Guildroy sooner, he had just been holding out for the perfect one. She felt an odd feeling for the first time in a long, was it jealousy? She stuffed the emotion back down and shook her head a little, she was far too old and busy for jealousy or taking on a charge full time but this Elizabeth girl peaked her interest. Sharlene broke from her thoughts as she recognized Lizzie’s breathing stabilizing. She hoisted the girl onto her hip as she rose from the rocking chair and headed for the nursery door. Elizabeth panicked a little, Max had mentioned that his help had been off for the evening but she wasn’t sure if they’d be back this morning. She was a little frightened by the prospect of being seen by a maid in her current condition as she rode the hip of the matron amazon caring for her. She buried her face in the nanny’s shoulder as the door opened to the hallway and stepped out. Elizabeth peaked out a little as she was carried down the stairs and into what appeared to be a kitchen. She had no defenses as she was pried off of the nanny and set down with a quiet squelch from her padding. Being naked all of a sudden mattered quite a bit and she brought her arms up to cover her chest. She opened her eyes just in time to see the nanny sliding a tray in front of her with an audible and sturdy click. She looked down and shifted a little as she came to realize she was trapped in an Amazon sized high chair. A post was positioned between her legs and mildly reminded her of the nanny’s large knees pressing against her sodden diaper. Sharlese pullled Elizabeth’s hands away from her chest and attached cuffs to each wrist that kept them at tray level. Next her ankles were secured to the legs of the chair followed by a strap that passed under her breasts and one above that kept her back pinned to the chair. The nanny went about preparing a breakfast suitable for the Amazon baby in her care. The longest process was waiting for the water to boil for the massive serving of oatmeal she was making. After the dry flakes soaked up the hot water and were ready she shoveled on a heaping spoonful of sugar and a few handfuls of dried prunes completed the bowel. She may not be around for the catastrophe this breakfast would wreak on the Amazon’s diaper after she was returned to her older sister but she made sure it would definitely have an effect. The dish was set on the tray in front of Elizabeth and Miss Sharlese dug a large spoon in and lifted it to Elizabeth’s mouth. She hadn’t had oatmeal in a long time but she knew of the fibre content having great effects on littles. She grimaced a little expecting the taste of cardboard but was pleasantly surprised by the sweet flavour. Miss Sharlese fed her spoon after spoon, occasionally missing her mouth to drop some of the contents on her chest. An Amazon sized serving of oatmeal and prunes was substantial and it took a solid fifteen minutes before Sharlese was scraping the bowl clean. The brown sugar sprinkled across the top was long gone and Elizabeth was struggling to finish the serving as her stomach dissented with food. She was practically in a food coma and don’t think she could handle another bite as she slouched in the chair stuffed. Sharlese cleaned the dishes while Elizabeth recovered a bit in the chair. She wasn’t expecting a large bottle to be held up to her lips when Sharlese returned. She tried to turn her head away but Sharlese kept the nipple of the bottle against her lips and demonstrated her skills in patience. “Come now dear Lizzie, we want to make sure you have a nice soggy diaper for your big sister when you get home.” Sharlese teased the nipple against her lips some more but Elizabeth still refused to accept the bottle. “Suit yourself, you’re only making it much harder for yourself.” Sharlese said as she removed the restraints followed by the tray. Elizabeth was quickly carried back to the nursery without another word. She knew refusing the bottle would more than likely earn her some sort of punishment but she couldn’t even think about taking in any more food or liquid. She was deposited onto the changing table where a series of cuffs were added to her limbs and unceremoniously attached to the anchors in the table. Sharlese went about her way and stripped the tapes of the diaper and began work on cleaning up the mess of smeared waste with a pile of wet wipes after she put on a set of gloves. Elizabeth could tell internally from the lack of emotion that Sharlese was upset as there was no caring emotion in the cleaning process as she was wiped down. Content with Elizabeth’s front, her legs were unclipped and repositioned to how she was the night before with Max which brought with it a flood of naughty thoughts. Sharlese however just continued cleaning Elizabeth up before extracting the diaper from underneath her and balling it up for the garbage bin. “Now, let’s go get you showered and bathed so you smell like a nice little girl when you go home.” Sharlese said with a smile that Elizabeth could tell was hiding something sinister. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about refusing your baba, we’ll take care of that as well.”

Pic number 2 looks the most diaperish to me.

They don't exist for my cloth diapers, and that's just fine. I don't need them and wouldn't miss them if they were gone.

Chapter Two “Sorry, sorry–” Ai had grown used to moving around the room, but sudden disorientation still hits her this time–she’s not in the room anymore. She’s somewhere else entirely, and she has no time to appear disoriented. It’s pure luck that her endorphins didn’t carry over from the last moment she could remember, or her panicked state would have triggered an anxiety attack almost immediately. Aya is in front of her, moving forward with urgency, reaching out with a couple napkins wadded in her hand. Quickly, Ai shakes her head, scooting back. “Erm–” She tries to take in everything all at once. They’re in a break room, the kind that’s common across pretty much the whole world: there’s a fridge, a sink, a microwave. A few other people are eating lunch, workers in lab coats that she doesn’t recognize and doesn’t care to meet, because Aya has all her attention. Ai can remember Aya holding her down, pinning her in place, bringing down powerful blows on Ai’s thighs and diapered bottom. Then, she’d seemed so powerful, so immovable, but now she looks almost…subservient. The woman’s face is so full of urgent concern and a need to help that Ai’s initial impulse, to panic, quickly consumes itself. She is confused, but not afraid. It might be another trap, but if it is, Ai doesn’t understand it, and she doesn’t let herself work up any anxiety over nothing. Her lap is hot and wet, but that, too, is different from how she remembers. She’s not wearing a diaper, and the warmth has spread past her crotch, down her legs. It’s too warm, almost scalding. Looking down, she sees soup, bits of processed chicken and rubbery noodles spilled all over her lap, her pants soaked with hot broth all the way through and into her panties. The heat is enough to make her wince, but she ignores the pain and shakes her head, taking the napkins from Aya. “Eh–thank you.” “Sorry, just–” Aya starts, looking away. “Clumsy. And I feel bad.” “Why?” Ai asks. (Because you spanked me?) “Because–look, I know I was just playing a role, but it felt mean. And then…finding out it got shuttered the next day, how am I supposed to take it, except to think it’s my fault?” Ai doesn’t have time to think of a clever response, not as new information pounds into her brain, insisting she try and keep track of it all. The best she can manage is a noncommittal shrug. Aya looks away, exhaling through her nose, and she doesn’t look back for several seconds. “I’ll stop apologizing, just…sorry. No, sorry, I…this whole situation has me feeling so...I don’t know. She still looks like you the whole time, y’know? But I’m not supposed to treat you like you, and…it’s just a weird headspace to occupy.” Trying to keep her act going a little longer, Ai avoids a response, but it’s clear Aya wants to hear…something. Reassurance, maybe. Ai has an inkling of what’s going on, but she lacks certainty, and the wrong word could be disastrous. “If I may…” Ai starts, speaking slowly to buy time to think. Ultimately, she goes with her gut: If her hunch about the situation has any merit to it, she shouldn’t be kind. “It’s not my job to make you feel better. If your performance were a problem, I’d have said so, but you can work out your feelings in your own time. I need to go clean myself off.” Getting to her feet, she whirls, half to stride out of the break room, half to hide the uncertainty that’s painted onto her face. The move is vindicated a moment later, when Aya calls after her, “Hold on–Bala, wait.” Ai keeps walking, because now, the uncertainty has been promoted to panic. She doesn’t know the name, but she knows that it’s not her. Taking deep breaths, Ai walks out into the hallway, looking both ways. It’s painfully generic, as though whoever made this space never intended it to be seen, except by people who wouldn’t be impressed or even care about the surroundings. Without any indication of where she might need to go, she picks a direction at random, trying to look confident as she strolls down the hall. She knows a few things, by Sherlock-esque deduction. She knows that whenever she’s found herself in this…place, she’s been in a diaper, but more importantly, it’s always been a wet diaper. She can remember the sensation of just having wet herself, but not of being dry. Apparently, the rules that governed her counted any undergarments, not just diapers, and it didn’t care whether she’d soaked her panties with piss or chicken broth–wet was wet. She’d escaped from the curated experiences that had been made for her by sheer luck, but she won’t have much opportunity to use that freedom. The soup is drying quickly, already cool on her thighs, but she’s got a more urgent fear than that. Lab technicians– (Researchers? Scientists?) People in lab coats pass her in either direction, all giving nods of deference. She seems to be in charge, or at least in a position of authority. Too many people are paying attention to her, and Ai scrambles to think of a way to extend her brief bout of freedom. She needs to deal with the stain on her pants first, and ensure her mind will stay intact once the soup dries. Ai somehow doubts that she could excuse it if she pissed herself for all to see, so she needs protection, a way to be wet without being obvious. So, looking out for the nearest restroom with a dress-wearing stick figure on the door, she ducks inside. For once, she has a stroke of luck. Wherever she is, they don’t care for decor, but they care for hygiene. A dispenser on the wall holds pads and tampons, and she takes one of the former out before detouring to the nearest stall. Moving past the mirror, she makes a point not to look at it. She doesn’t want to deal with that yet. In the stall, she slips down her soup-covered pants, but takes care to keep her wet panties in place. If she screws this up, she won’t get another try. Fingers shaking, she removes the pad from its packaging and fumbles it into her panties, adding enough absorbent material that–she hoped–it would count. Now she just has to wet herself. Sitting on the toilet, it’s harder than she expects–she’d already been in a wet diaper, she’d even pooped in one, but convincing her body that she really, truly needs to wet her panties is another matter. She gets another stroke of luck. Someone comes in to wash their hands, and the sound of flowing water is enough to trick her brain into action. She floods the pad, and as it swells with pee, the excess trickling down into the toilet, she sighs in relief. Waiting until the dripping is done, until she’s sure nothing will leak into the pants, she gets up and flushes. There’s no putting it off now, she has to confront the truth. Ai steps out of the stall and faces her reflection. She isn’t wearing her own face, the face she knows. She’s not her. Ai stares at the face–the face she’d seen in the TV twice. First in the video, she’d seen the probably-Indian woman with the black hair stare at her with malice and condescension. Then, when the video had ended, she’d seen the same face stare back in her reflection, full of confusion and horror. She is her own tormenter, and staring into the bathroom mirror, she can’t escape that truth. It’s just what she saw before, when she looked at the TV screen, the image that’d driven her into a panic. She is not Ai. Her features are southeast asian, she has flowing black hair, and from her point of view, she’d seen the face curl up in a smug smile on a VHS tape not ten minutes prior. Ai isn’t here, not really. Bala stands in the bathroom, gazing at her own reflection, with Ai’s mind temporarily holding the steering wheel. She is, somehow, inside Bala, borrowing her body, living in it like a parasite. Only…parasites don’t get plucked from their own lives and forced into a host. She is something else. (A passenger.) That feels better, except passengers still chose to come on a voyage. (A prisoner.) Better. She inspects herself more thoroughly. Her clothes are pared down and professional, with a slightly scientific angle. She isn’t wearing scrubs exactly, but the style seems scrubs-adjacent. If she worked in STEM, Ai might know what to call it, but she has to go with her loose, half-accurate descriptions for now. No nametag, but she doesn’t need that. She knows whose face she wears. More interesting is the elastic, retractable lanyard on her waist, attached to a magnetic keycard. She has no way of telling which doors it can open, but surely it will open something. With a pee-soaked pad keeping her mind in place, she wipes her pants off to get rid of soup crud, washes her hands, and steels herself. If she gives herself away, she will probably wake up back in some room, some new chamber, being tortured for an unseen audience’s pleasure. Ai refuses to go back to that, not if she can help it. She needs information–she needs to know what’s going on, and how she can escape it. She has an idea for how to get that information, too, but it will require her to embody the woman who taunted her on the TV; a woman who seemed to be embody spite and cruelty, wanting nothing more than to torture Ai for reasons impossible to fathom. Ai can do that. After all her torture, she’s got some malice built up that she needs to vent. Stepping out into the hall, she spins on the first person she sees, some researcher or worker or it doesn’t matter. “You,” she snaps, pointing at them. They freeze, and whether it’s her posture or tone or purely from Bala’s reputation, Ai gets the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look she wanted. “Yes, ma’am!” they reply quickly, almost dropping the clipboard they’re holding. “Give me a status update,” she says, staying as vague as possible. “I know there’s a lot up in the air right now–I need to know the most up-to-date information.” Their eyebrows raise, fear driving their response. “I–I don’t know that, ma’am. I’m just getting off lunch, and–” “And, what?” She demands. “You think I want to hear excuses?” “No, but–” “But, but, but,” Ai interrupts. “If you can’t be prepared and ready to give an effective answer, I’m not going to wait on your timetable, no sir. Since you can’t answer my question right now, we will go to my office and you’ll stay there until you find out.” Bala’s office has to have the details she needs, Ai just needs access–and this poor figure in front of her can give her that access. Their eyes widen even further, the fear of being fired–or possibly worse. Ai doesn’t know how they treat bad employees here. They might put insubordinate workers through the same torture Ai had experienced, for all she knew. Nodding quickly, the employee stammers, “I–yes ma’am!” Ai waits a moment longer, raising one eyebrow and channeling impatience. “Well? After you.” The worker squeaks and turns without another word, and their effort to scamper forward and get this awkward situation over with pushes them to lead without question. Ai follows, hiding her satisfaction, as she gets directed straight to Bala’s office. The decor is as sparse as she’d come to expect, but it’s well stocked. A computer is on her desk–an iMac, the kind where the screen is about the size of a beach ball because it has all the computer parts built into it, and a phone sits next to it with all sorts of extra buttons for intercom and Ai-doesn’t-really-know. There’s even a rolodex–Bala is an organized administrator, it seems. “I…” the lab assistant stammers. Gesturing to the computer, Ai snaps, “Get to work. Use my phone, hell, drink my coffee while you’re at it, since I’m apparently waiting on you. Trust me: Waste enough of my time, and this will get personal.” She doesn’t have to say another word. The terrified figure gets onto her computer, logs in with an admin password, and quickly pulls up status reports from a lengthy chain of emails. “Okay–okay,” they say, their breathing coming fast. “I–Ma’am, I’m sorry.” “I won’t shoot the messenger,” she says, moving in to look. “The project’s been fully canned, they’re pulling funding and looking into other things,” they explain. “After your Alter Identity saw her reflection and had that panic attack, management decided that this wouldn’t be an effective route to regression after all. They already had doubts after seeing that the regression reverted between sessions, which–I mean–I’m sorry–they decided that it was taking the subject’s mental state in the wrong direction. Please don’t be mad at me. They–it’s just one failed experiment, you’ve still got authorization to pursue your other plans once this AI is erased. Ai tries not to sound too eager, too excited. “What happens to her after that?” “Oh.” They pause, uncertain. “I…that’s more your department, you’re the one who built it, but…doesn’t the AI kind of just stop?” Frowning, Ai makes a gesture with her hand for them to continue. “Stop?” “Well, she’s a constructed identity. She doesn’t really exist. Once you undo the conditioning, so that she can’t manifest, I kinda just assumed that the AI would…‘die’ isn’t the right word, but you get my meaning. Why are you asking me this?” “I meant, ‘What happens to the research we’ve conducted on her’,” Ai lies, screaming within her thoughts. “But, never mind. You’ve done what I asked. Get back to work and we won’t have to talk about this again.” “Yes ma’am,” they say, looking almost like they’re going to salute before simply getting up out of Bala’s office chair and hurrying out of the office. Ai stands there, stunned. If she gets caught, she won’t have to worry about being being tortured or humiliated. That would be bad, but being sent through humiliations, having her ass beaten bloody, being edged and tormented in diapers, it still seemed preferable to her new crisis. At least, if she was being forced to fill diapers and solve impossible puzzles, she’d get to exist. Facing the weight of this realization, Ai allows herself a brief moment to slip into a dissociative meltdown. There just doesn’t seem to be another reasonable course of action. She only exists in wet underwear, and if she cleans herself, if she takes off the piss-soaked pad in her panties, she’ll cease to exist forever. Nothing she can think of softens that blow–she’ll be caught, or she’ll have to change eventually, and when that happens, she will just be… Gone. For a moment, she sees herself there, just standing in the office, paralyzed by inaction. In the context of her circumstances, knowing how small and weak she is against the prospect of nonexistence, what else can she do? But the disassociation makes things worse. Seeing herself, thinking of herself as nothing but a body, it only reminds her that this isn’t even her body. Even the simple numbing remedy that comes from an out-of-body experience is denied to her, because she has no body to be out of, just a temporary residence. So, though she wants to break down and sob, there’s simply no opportunity. She bottles up her fear, her anxiety, her existential dread, and pushes it down into herself. Maybe, maybe, there’s a solution buried in Bala’s computer. Without any other plan, she sits down at the keyboard and begins pouring through the files. Bala is, to her relief, a meticulous woman, with all her files carefully labeled. Less helpfully, the projects all seem to have code names. She reads all the folders twice, trying to find the one relating to herself. Star Gazers. Cookie Clicker. Quiet Time. Coral Island. V's Guest. Jacqueline Hyde. Hello Nurse. There’s a few others, too, more blatant than the rest. Zoo. Language. Vulcan. On the second pass, Ai finally gets it. ‘Jacqueline Hyde.’ Jekyll and Hyde. Dual identities. “Right,” she whispers. “Duh. So much for a secret name.” Clicking on it, she starts to read. It doesn’t take long before she’s drowning in jargon, technical terms and descriptions of machinery she cannot understand. She’s not helpless, though. Ai is no scientist, but she’s not clueless. When she comes across a series of recordings, video logs labeled with dates and particular keywords, she feels a surge of hope. She clicks on the first one, and flinches involuntarily when she sees her borrowed face appear on the screen in compressed, low-quality video. The woman on screen, Bala, lacks the condescension she wore the last time Ai saw her. She’s standing tall, professional, a bit cold. “I’m recording this for posterity. Since I imagine anyone watching this won’t be interested or able to understand the technical elements, I’ll keep this simple. If you want to understand how the machine works, check the documentation.” Bala smiles, but Ai notices a touch of bitterness behind the expression. “As if they’re anything but babble. Glass tubes and sprockets and nonsense–the why doesn’t matter, it could have been magic or alchemy or nanotech. Aya makes it work. The important thing is the research, not the methods.” Backing up, she reveals a projection screen behind her and raises a clicker, though the slide she pulls up is so compressed by the video display as to be almost illegible. All Ai can make out is a vaguely human shape and skin-tone colors. “How can you tell which elements of regression therapy are most effective, and which are wasted time? If you’re successful, you can’t, because the only person who can tell you what worked on them is now incapable of expressing that information in any scientifically useful way.” Raising both hands to frame her face, she says in a mock tone, “‘Yes, and how did you respond to the spanking?’ ‘Goo gah guhh goo’. It’s not exactly rigorous.” Clicking the slide forward, a machine of some kind–steel and wires–pops up on the display. “That’s where the Versable comes in. I’ve had Aya create a universe in which we have access to the infinite span of worlds, and where we can tap into minds from alternate universes–those parallel to our own. We make copies of their minds. We could bring along their bodies, but that wouldn’t help–we may as well clone Ai, if we did that. To ensure we’re working with a clean slate, we strip the context of the identity, so that they have a form of amnesia–they’ll remember who they are, but not any specific events. We get the personality, but not the person, copied into a compliant host. We’re calling them ‘Artificial Identities’, and I so wish that there was someone in this universe who would get the joke.” Waving a hand, she moves things along. “With the right triggers implanted in the transverse personality requisition, we can make the identity come out in response to stimuli, and revert when that stimuli is gone. The host mind remembers everything, and can record the experiences after the fact. Now, all we have to do is find a compatible mind, bring it over, and see how it responds when we administer our regression experiments. So that’s the plan–find a compatible mind, bring it, break it.” A smile creeps over her face, spreading like a virus, and she adds quietly, “And I know exactly what mind we’ll be breaking.” The video comes to an end, and Ai sees Bala’s face reflected in the black screen for a moment before the video player minimizes and an image of a green field replaces it. Swallowing, she scrolls forward, skipping videos, looking for useful keywords. ‘Attempted implantation - 1’ through ‘Attempted implantation - 7’ are all skipped. After all the attempts, however, she finds what she’s looking for. ‘Successful implantation of Artificial Identity - 1.’ Holding her breath, Ai pulls it up. Bala is standing by a machine, the one from the slide in the previous video, though the new video shows it in crisper detail now that it’s not a photo on a projector being captured by yet another camera. It looks rather like an MRI, and Bala is operating one set of controls, naked save for a diaper. Pulling a lever on the opposite set of controls, Aya starts the machine, and after Bala enters a few instructions, she gets onto the mat and it slides her in. The device spins. Light flashes out, so brilliant it overwhelms the camera for a moment, and when the picture returns, Bala sits upright. “Did it work?” Aya asks. “Did I–did I do it right?” Bala shrugs. “Only one way to find out.” Closing her eyes, she focuses for a moment, and though the camera is too grainy to show much, a slight pixelation of compressed yellow stains her diaper. A moment later, she bolts upright, eyes wide. “What–where the hell am I?” “Take a breath,” Aya says, holding out a hand. “You’re in a medical facility. Do you remember how you got here?” Bala thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. “No.” “Do you remember your name?” That takes a little effort. “Mary. Mary Bambine, but…I don’t remember anyone ever calling me that. What happened?” In front of the computer, watching the video, Ai frowns. This wasn’t her. It isn’t her. They brought over two people? “The amnesia will wear off in a little while,” Aya lies. “Can you tell me what year it is?” Again, Mary focuses. “I feel like…it’s got to be…I don’t know. I don’t know. Where am I?” “Just take a breath,” Aya assures her, moving closer. “I just need to adjust something, okay?” She watches Mary, who watches her in turn, cautious but not resisting. Reaching forward, Aya suddenly grabs and jerks on the front of the diaper, ripping it free. Bala sits upright and takes a breath, smiling, satisfied. “It worked. It worked. Make a note of that mind–we’ll clear this one, then copy it in fresh so that she doesn’t remember waking up in the machine. I was right–we just needed your special touch. You operate the machine better than anyone.” Ai closes the video, her breath coming in quick bursts. The next video is labeled as the same day, then ‘2 - Failure’. Bala sits in front of her desk, nursing a mug. She looks tired, even through pixelation. “Status report,” she says, speaking slowly. “I thought, once we got the copies working, it would be smooth sailing, but… We aren’t copying minds. We’re taking them. I think we have a way to put them back safely, but I don’t know what the consequences of that would be. If the subject retains memories of being tested, we could corrupt the whole multiverse.” She sips from the mug and inhales sharply, like the drink is bracing her willpower. “We brought ‘Mary’ over. She wasn’t my first pick, but I need methods that work on more than one girl–I had planned to start light and only focus on my main goals once the methods were perfected. From everything we could determine, this ‘Mary’ was a perfect subject for regression testing, for experimentation with diapers–her mind matched what we were looking for, almost to a T, but after the first pull, we didn’t put her back. We deleted her. And when we went to make another copy…” Frowning, she shakes her head. “I’m making this video for the logs, but we’re not reporting this, it’ll only be in my personal file. They can find out once we have our data. It’s too important to give up. I’m not giving this up, but…I know there’s an infinite amount of people out there, and an infinite number of minds to borrow, but I don’t want to hurt people to accomplish my goals.” Pursing her lips, she still seems bitter and sad as she adds, “Well…most people. If I have to pick one person to destroy, over and over, it may as well be her.” Ai’s fingers are numb as she looks at the final video. ‘Successful implantation of Artificial Identity - Two.’ She barely breathes as the video plays, as Bala enters a code, lies down, and goes into the machine. She and Aya are wordless as a new identity is copied, and when Bala comes out, they don’t immediately tape her into a diaper. “We got her,” Bala says, breathing quickly. She seems excited, like a child at the peak of a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop and the gut-twisting, thrilling weightlessness to follow. Fear and anticipation in tandem. “Fetch the straightjacket–I want to get to work right away. I want to learn how to break this mind within the week.” “That’s ambitious,” Aya cautions, though she’s already obeying, leaving the room. “Do you want to start slow?” “I want her thoughts gone,” Bala replies harshly. “I want her head empty. I want to feel her thoughts slip and slip until they’re goo, until she’s a drooling mess and she can’t fuck things up ag–” Jaw setting, she catches herself, aware of Aya’s uncertain stare. “We aren’t going to take things slow,” Bala finishes. “We’re going to move fast and break things.” They exit the frame, and the clip continues for thirty more seconds on an empty room before the video player closes out of itself. There are no videos more recent than that. Checking the timestamp against the computer’s calendar, Ai sees it’s about a week old. They brought her over, with plans to destroy her and discard the remains, but…there’s a way back. She just needs help to do it. It takes flipping through Bala’s rolodex to find the right phone number. It takes another moment of uncertainty, fingers hovering over the phone, before she works up the courage to call Aya. Ai’s too timid for a full phone call, she only manages one sentence. “Come to my office immediately.” She slams the phone down before Aya can reply, hoping that her fear will be read instead as confidence. Aya is prompt–a good sign. She’s either obedient or afraid. Entering Ai’s office, Aya closes the door behind her. “What do you need, ma’am?” “You heard the project is being shut down, I presume?” Ai asks. “All our work is being tossed down the drain.” Glancing to the side, Aya nods. “I–of course I heard.” “Do you know why Ai is scheduled to be destroyed instead of sent home?” she asks. “No,” Aya says quickly. Speaking louder, speaking more slowly, she says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ai frowns. “We can send the minds back, but–” “Bala!” Aya blurts, looking over her shoulder quickly. The door’s closed, but she’s still alarmed, as though they might be overheard. “You–you can’t say that. You’re the one who told me to keep that element a secret.” Blinking, Ai tries to maintain composure. “Of course I am, but it’s just us here. There’s nobody listening.” But there are other people listening, or at least following along. Ai still has her audience, paying attention to every word she says. Striding to the desk to sit across from Ai, Aya leans forward, speaking in hushed tones. “You ordered me to keep it a secret–to make sure nobody finds out we’re pulling real minds, not making copies. If the higher ups found out, it would…” She can’t finish the sentence. If she could speak the truth, she would have said, ‘It would make things too real, it would change the balance and spoil the mood. You can’t enjoy the scene and fear for her life at the same time.’ “My point is,” Ai says. “To hell with the risk. If our research is being canned, we need to get Ai home, immediately. At least we can mitigate the harm, even if we won’t be able to get the results we want.” Sitting up straight, Aya nods, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Yes, ma’am.” If only this were the end of the story, it might get a happy ending. Alas, there’s still a full chapter yet to come.

Academy II By Peculiar Changeling "At the end of the world, there will be neither clamor nor calamity, neither echo nor epoch. It will be mired in silence and sleep, in deliverance and death. At the end of the world, there will be both patience and purpose, both temperance and time. Only then will it be graced with eternity, and from eternity, a chance." -The Source, in valediction Chapter One Ai blinks, but the panic doesn’t set in until several seconds pass. (Where am I?) Sometimes, in the past, she’d woken up in an unfamiliar place. It always disoriented her, struggling in a foreign environment to take it all in at once. Having to piece together her arrival: how she’d gotten there, where she was, all while her body was still sleep-lagged and not fully awake. This isn’t like waking up. She had blinked once and found herself in a new place, fully aware, and the assault on her senses came from all directions. She takes it in, but it’s as though her senses are coming on one at a time, discovering pieces of her surroundings before she can understand the whole. Her arms are crossed over her chest–no, they’re bound over her chest, held down in a tight self-hug, like she’d put on a baggy jacket and had the sleeves tied together like a pretzel around her body. Though Ai had never worn a straightjacket before, she deduces what’s pinning her arms down before she can even see it. Warmth spreads over her crotch, and again it takes her a couple tries to guess why. (Did I spill something? No. Blood? Also no. It’s like–ah, I’m peeing.) That too feels wrong–the warmth doesn’t spread down her thighs, nothing past her crotch, but she can feel more moisture spreading out. Something is between her legs–an acute bulk that rustles when she shifts her weight. This time, she needs to look, but her attention is quickly taken up by distracting revelations. Mostly, the hands pressed against her body. One hand with fingers laced through a strap over her chest, holding it tightly like a leash, one pressed into the front of her… (I’m not wearing pants, and those aren’t panties, that’s a…) “Diaper?” she says aloud, and the person attached to the hands laughs, a gentle teasing tone, her form still coming into focus. “Good girl, you’re using your diaper, that’s correct,” she replies. “Just like you were told.” An audience watches her, paying particular attention to her diaper, to the way she reacts to her humiliations, but she’s blissfully unaware of their presence. For now, it’s just her and the strange woman. She pulls away, slack-jawed, eyes darting between her diaper and the woman standing in front of her. Editing Note: Mia gave me a description of Aya, I need to find it so I can put it here. “What–no, I didn’t–” “Shh,” the woman says, a smirk spreading across her face. “If you want me to believe you don’t need your diapers, you’ll have to prove it. There’s a toilet just through that door–even though you couldn’t hold it completely, but if you can keep from making a big, stinky, mess in your diaper, I might let you come out and play with the big kids.” Ai doesn’t understand, but her mind is still coming into her body, still taking things in. The room looks…not clinical. A clinic would have a degree of comfort, it would be designed to help patients feel a little better about their situation. The room she’s in looks scientific, but only in a way that makes her feel like a specimen pressed into a glass slide. It’s hastily assembled, as though it were an afterthought, not worth giving any real focus. Why care about the set dressing? Her audience won’t remember what the room looks like; it’ll only remember the way she looks when she’s forced to fill her diaper. Before she can ask another question, before she can make her brain obey, the woman pushes a rubber ball between her teeth. She moves so swiftly and smoothly that by the time Ai recognizes the gag, it’s already locked into place. It doesn’t silence her, but it garbles her words into mere noise, so that when she tries to object, it comes out as, “Buhh-mughga!” The woman smiles again, warmly, like she’s watching a child present a crayon drawing and not facing a fully grown woman babbling into a gag. With straps around and above Ai’s head, she can’t spit it out, and her hands are trapped in the straightjacket, so she can’t reach up and pull it free. Ai’s senses finally come to be in her body fully, finally give her a full picture, and the result is claustrophobic. She jerks and twists, but her arms are held fast, with only a hint of wiggle room. “The suppositories won’t leave you much time,” the woman says. “If you want to use the potty, you’d best get started.” With her role in the performance done, the woman leaves–the audience doesn’t care about her any more, not unless she stays to taunt and belittle. That isn’t her role, it’s not why she’s here, so she won’t play that part. The room is empty, save for the two doors: one leading to the promised toilet, the other to the exit the woman had taken. With her gone, Ai is left alone. Ai fights off the urge to keep struggling in the jacket. It wouldn’t get her anywhere; she needs to make progress. Taking deep breaths through her gag, she centers herself. It’s difficult to walk around with her arms bound. She wobbles unsteadily, and the diaper makes the waddle more acute than it’d otherwise be. Reaching the bathroom door, she leans her back against the perpendicular wall for support. The bathroom door has a metal latch and a combination lock holding it shut. Next to the lock, a sticky note holds a simple message. Combination is 1508 - A big girl should have no trouble opening it - Be sure to hurry. If you don’t make it to the potty, you’ve got another spanking in your future! - ❤️ Aya Ai’s eyes widen and her brow furrows as she reads the note. It carries an implicit message. If she enters the combination, she can use the toilet, avoid…a spanking, and… (She can’t be serious, can she?) But, because she’s already in a straightjacket, already in a soggy diaper, she intuits another truth. (She’s serious.) Ai makes up her mind. She needs to enter the combination. She takes a moment to inspect the combination lock. It has a spring-loaded cover over the combination, so that it’s difficult to reach. She tries pushing at the cover with her nose, but it won’t move, and the attempt forces her to squat awkwardly. She does half a chicken dance, her padded butt wobbling in the air as she tries to keep upright. Besides, even if she could get the cover to the side, there would be no way to turn the numbers without hands. Maybe her teeth, but they're gagged, and to remove the gag, well… Ai needs her hands. She steps back, breathing deeply, and feels a tentative, anxiety-inducing gurgle in her belly. The woman– (Aya. Her name is Aya.) Shaking her head, Ai tries to focus. She knows precious little, and can't afford to discard what few details she’s gleaned. Aya had mentioned suppositories. Ai doesn't know how long it will take the medicine to work, but judging by the early cramps, she can’t imagine it will be long. Shutting her eyes, Ai takes a few deep breaths. There aren’t any tools in the room she can use. Nothing sharp or hard or useful for leverage. It’s all up to her. She tries wriggling again, but this time, it’s not desperate flailing. There’s a little room for her arms to shimmy from side to side, and when she does, she can feel the back strap move. Squirming with new hope, Ai moves within the jacket. With the little amount of play she has, it seems like it should be possible to wriggle free, to– “Mmmph!” She squeaks as she feels a sudden, intrusive buzz start up in the front of her sodden diaper. Bending over, she looks down and sees what she’d missed before. Attached by two straps on the straightjacket, held snugly in place over her diaper is a flat, plastic vibrator. Something had triggered it to start–her audience doesn’t want her to have too easy a time of it, and the distraction serves to entertain. Ai bites down on her gag and her cheeks flush. There’s only so much she can focus on at once. The claustrophobia, the restriction, and now the vibrator buzzing away, flooding her body with hormones and unwanted pleasure, it forces her down to the ground, sinking onto her butt. (Deep breaths. Just persist, I can do this.) The way the vibrator works, pulsing into a layer of sodden padding, just makes it worse: the pleasure is coming through her diaper, forcing her to acknowledge it, to think about the piss-soaked diaper in the context of intense, mind-numbing desire. After a minute or so, the vibration stops, and the concern that it might kick back into high gear is just more motivation for Ai to keep trying. The gurgle in her belly–an insistent reminder of the suppositories doing their work–only pushes her further. (Think. The strap. It has play.) Sitting against the wall, she tries lifting her legs and moving her arms, shimmying side to side to get it out from beneath her, but there isn’t that much play. The strap holding her sleeves together won’t go past her waist. She tries the other way. Pushing against the wall for support, she stands, wobbles, and then pulls up. Bingo. It takes a lot of wriggling and effort, but the sleeves move over her head. Ai’s arms aren’t free, but they have mobility. The sleeves might still cover her hands, and the damned strap holds her arms together, bound so that she’s always making an O shape, but it’s progress; an enormous step in the right direction and a sign that she can succeed. Before she can celebrate this victory, though… Bzzz. Her face flushes again, and she is once again distracted from escaping her situation. Ai can’t tell if the vibrator is turned higher, or if she’s become more susceptible to it by her first session of edging. Her Ego might shout and complain, but her Id’s reaction to the sensation is undeniable. The vibrator sends pulses through her sodden diaper and into her sex. Intense pleasure signals carry up her back and into her thoughts, killing her ability to focus on anything, even breathing, air escaping her mouth as little desperate moans. (You’re better than how you feel.) She bites down on the gag until it hurts her jaw, forcing deep breaths through her nose. (Don’t let this beat you.) Another minute passes before the vibrator dies, and in its wake Ai needs a few moments to recover, panting into her gag. The pressure in her bowels is more intense than ever, but she’s still able to hold it. She still has time. Getting back to her feet, Ai already notices an improvement. With her arms able to move freely, she can balance, all the wobbliness gone. She doesn’t need to use the wall for support any longer. Waddling back to the padlock, she tries again, pressing the sleeves of the straightjacket into the combination cover. No dice. She can sort of get the cover to slide to the side, but when she does, there’s not enough play to get the small dial beneath to spin how she wants it. Her attention returns to the jacket. She can open and close her hands beneath the heavy canvas. It doesn’t give her much control, but it gives just enough to grab things. Fumbling at her back, moving her arms together so she can reach as far as possible, she feels at the straps holding the jacket over her body. Ai isn’t certain, but by wriggling and moving her back, she puts together a rough estimation of how it had been assembled. There are three buckled straps that comprise the linchpin of the vest. If she can get those loose, there’ll be enough play that she’d be able to get the crotch strap free. And, once that’s free, the jacket will just slide right off. Simple. Not easy, but simple. Ai refuses to contemplate the alternative to success: the pressure in her bowels releasing, and the subsequent threats that’d been made. She tells herself that the pressure she feels is just a ticking clock, and she lacks the time to think about why this self-delusion isn’t true. Determined, she gets to work, pawing at her back. Going by sense of feel isn’t easy, especially when she has to work through layers of dense canvas, and her only way to manipulate things is to fumble through the jacket and try to squeeze whatever she can reach. Grumbling into her gag, she works at it all the same, spinning in place to try and get a better angle like a dog chasing her own tail, until… Cli-clack-clack-clack. The rattle of the metal buckle pulling free is pure relief, pure triumph. Just two to– “MMpHH!” Her unbidden squeak seems deafening in the utterly silent room, legs buckling beneath her as she the vibrator kicks into high gear. This time, Ai knows it’s turned up higher just from the pitch of the vibration, and she also can’t deny that her body is more susceptible than ever. The mixed sensation, frustration, and simple burning feelings that the buzzing brings up from deep inside Ai makes her forget herself, and she rides the pleasure with purpose. It isn’t just that there’s a vibrator pressed into her diaper, there’s something… more, but she can’t identify what. She wants it. Just before she can ride into a reluctantly anticipated climax, the vibration stops. Ai cries out–no longer grateful to have the vibration end, but furious that she was denied her pleasure. She could have at least had a little bliss before returning to her task, but they– She sits up sharply, the truth finally dawning. The timing is too perfect for the vibrator’s control to be automatic, on a timer, anything. An intelligent observer is turning it off and on at particular times. But… though she walks a circle of the room to look for one, she can’t see a camera, a viewport, or anywhere to hide and watch. The door doesn’t even have a gap beneath it or a keyhole to peer through. Her audience is watching another way, and she has no means to understand how. It can’t just be visual, either–they know precisely how Ai feels, they know her intimately, able to turn off the vibrator to deny her the climax that she’s been conditioned to want. Ai tries not to think about what else they could condition her to want. For now, she just wants three things–the toilet behind the door, the climax she’d been denied, and an explanation for her circumstances. She can’t have the third and isn’t in control of the second, so she forces herself to focus on the first. Accepting that she’ll have to deal with a malicious audience, Ai turns her attention to the second buckle. It’s harder in some ways, having to reach further down her back, but with the first buckle free she has a lot more range of motion. With only a minute of squirming, it comes free, and this time, knowing she’s got watchers, she braces herself. It comes, right on queue, and she leans back against the wall, biting down on the gag and riding it out. She doesn’t hide that she’s enjoying it, and she admits to herself that the soggy diaper carrying the vibration into her might actually make things better. This time, Ai speeds things along. One orgasm could clear the distraction from her mind, it could let her think more clearly, it could end the uncomfortable correlation that’s building in her unconscious between diapers and an almost incomparable sexual craving. She tries to indulge in the pleasure, to rush to the peak. And again, it stops before she can climax. No pleasure to be had, just denial. (I was…just trying to get Aya to stop, because I knew she wouldn’t let me finish.) Ai doesn’t believe herself. Only one buckle to go. She knows she’s going to make it. Her desperation is intense, but even if the vibrator sessions take minutes of her time away, she can last. It’s so close. Ai just has to get the last buckle, which, now that she has a high range of motion with most of the jacket loose, isn’t difficult at all. Bracing herself, anticipating the vibrator’s surging power, she waits a couple seconds. She’s left disappointed when it refuses to activate. Frowning, she continues her escape. With all the other buckles free, she slides the straightjacket off her body. Though she feels a need to use the toilet, it’s not unstoppable. For reasons she can’t quite explain, she goes for the combination first, before stripping out of the diaper. 1508. (Is that 15-0-8? Or 1-50-8?... ‘1-5-08? Eh… oh, okay. There’s no ‘0’ on the combination, and no ‘08’. So it’s gotta be 1-50-8.) Free fingers working deftly, she enters the combination. And, as triumph is within her grasp, she feels the vibrator pulse to life. The door swings open, but at that moment, her knees buckle. She falls to the ground, staring into the bathroom she’d unlocked, but she’s left stupefied by pleasure and cannot enter it. The vibrations are like nothing she’s ever felt before. Greater, more dominating than any sex in her memory, any pleasure she’s ever felt. The vibrator paralyzes her completely, rising in waves that give her just enough time to try and break free before it surges once more, throttling her mind, never quite reaching an intensity to let her climax, nor dropping enough to allow her escape. Her body craves the sensations, the feeling of a saturated diaper throbbing against her sex, and Ai cannot pretend that she only wants the edging to end faster. She can only sit on the ground, staring forward at the toilet only a few feet away, hopelessly frozen in agonizing bliss as the pressure in her builds, builds, builds, and with her thoughts and body so far from her own control, there’s no holding back. The edging may have lasted a minute, or ten, but it keeps her down until the suppositories do their work, and her diaper suddenly swells. The seat balloons out as a sudden warmth sludges into the padding. It’s faster than she expected, more intense: One moment, her diaper was only wet, but now it bulges and sags, muck packing in every corner available. Even then, as the smell hits her and she knows she’s lost this game, she still wants it. (No…) She still needs it. Her promised climax, the one bright spot of hope amidst the landscape of her shattered dignity. Biting down on the gag, moaning in wordless prayer to whatever cruel god controls her vibrator, Ai is given only disappointment. The vibrator dies, and she is left utterly defeated as the door behind her unlocks. Frustration pours over her. She’d lost. She’d lost, she’d humiliated herself for her audience’s pleasure, she’d bottomed out her diaper while only moments away from victory, she’d lost. And, even then, helpless to change the situation, the lingering desire still burns, craving the orgasm she’d earned. In the mental drop that follows, panting heavily and catching her breath, her thoughts clear slightly. A question in her thoughts that she hadn’t been able to consider, not until her thoughts were in her control again. (…the vibrator had been attached to the straightjacket, hadn’t it? So how–) The door behind her swings open. Aya steps in, making a show of sniffing the air, of ‘realizing’ that Ai has loaded her diaper like a helpless infant. “That’s what I thought,” Aya declares. “Well then–I think it’s time for your spanking.” It’s exactly what her audience had wanted, and the fate Ai had fought desperately to avoid. But then, her wants don’t matter. She exists to be observed, not to be happy, and right now, her observers see Aya pull her down, push her body so that her ruined diaper points into the air, and begin her assault. Aya’s slaps are merciless and devastating, and Ai is at a loss for which contacts are the worst. The swats to her thighs sting like a swarm of bees; each leaving angry red marks on her tender, bare skin, and each eliciting a helpless, pained squeak into her gag. Pain builds with each impact, growing, multiplying on itself, burning overlaid on a deep ache, accented by acute spikes of acid pain. The blows to her diaper did little to hurt her body, but sent disquieting shockwaves through her soul. Though the pain is muffled by a layer of saturated, abused padding, the way that each spank presses the results of her accident into her reminds Ai that she failed and humiliated herself, and that she’d do it all again if it would get her ten seconds with the vibrator to reach the bliss she still craved. It makes her squirm in embarrassment and shame, worrying if she had always been this depraved, or if she’d just been broken that easily. But, while pain and humiliation eat at her in their own ways, neither are the worst. What drives her insane are the occasional pauses, the rests where Aya retreats her hand and gently caresses the skin of Ai’s back and her delicate hair, soothing her, whispering sweet sounds without meaning, reassuring Ai in whispers that she’s doing so well to take her spanking like a good girl. Ai wants to scream. (How dare you try and comfort me when you’re the one inflicting the pain?) But another thought plays in her mind. (If you’re not going to stop, can you hold me closer?) In the haze, the mindfuck soup that’s slowly blending her consciousness into putty, Ai starts to slip, but she refuses to lose herself. She catches onto a thread–the one facet of her identity that remains. Her id slips away, disassociating from her quickly sublimating ego. She puts together her coherent thoughts, slim as they are, and chief among them is confusion. (It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got. How did I get here?) At first, she thinks about the room–how did she get put in the straightjacket? Or in this facility, for that matter? But then, a more specific form of the question presents itself. (How did I get here? Over Aya’s lap?) Ai remembers her defeat: Subdued by the vibrator, dropped to her knees, forced to pack her diaper full mere feet from the toilet. She remembers Aya coming in, taunting her, the subtle ways that the woman made Ai feel as small and helpless as possible. Then…Ai was over Aya’s lap, and the spanking began, as though the world had shifted around them. Aya has a chair now. (There definitely hadn’t been a chair in here before!) The thoughts have no clear answer, and worrying over them, trying to parse the impossible situation, forces her mind back into her body. The full physical sensations assert themselves again: every smell, every feel, every ache. Flailing, struggling, none of it seems to help. She’s going to be on Aya’s lap until the spanking is over, and there’s nothing she can do to resist that fate, but she no longer has the capacity to realize this. The mental break draws her deeper into her role: she fights, she kicks and yelps and whimpers, not because she thinks it will get her away, but because if she shows her defeat and wears her humiliation like armor, maybe Aya will give a little sympathy. Finally, the last few blows on her thighs rain down–hard enough that she cries out with more volume than ever–and it ends. The pain is over. All that’s left is a smug, taunting little bit of pressure; Aya rests her hand on the seat of Ai’s full diaper and presses down. It’s a degrading reminder that, for everything she’s been through, Ai still needed her pleasure. “Shh, shh,” Aya says, though Ai is perfectly quiet save for shallow breaths. “You took your spanking like a good girl–I think that deserves a reward.” (A reward?) Ai’s eyes snap open, heart suddenly pounding. (Will…will she give me the wand?) Of course not. Even her gifts can only ever push her deeper into humiliation. Aya pulls Ai up, first seating the young woman on her lap, then turning her so that they face one another. Ai wriggles, but Aya’s firm grip pulls Ai down, so that her legs straddle one of Aya’s thighs. “You did good, just enjoy yourself,” Aya coos, and before Ai can even try to ask a question through her gag, the taller, stronger woman begins to bounce her knee up and down, a rhythmic motion against the ground. Each bounce raises Ai up just for a heartbeat, momentum carrying her into the air, and then down again to smash her weight into the mucky, full contents of her diaper. She’d packed it full–the suppository had left her unable to do anything else–and the heavy, squelching contents slosh against her skin with every landing, wafting the stink upward into a haze she can’t help but inhale. It’s as bad as the spanking–worse, because at least then the humiliation was broken up with pain. Now it’s one note playing over and over ad nauseam until Ai can’t think about anything except the state of her diaper, how she had failed, how she had been helpless from the start, how she never could have done anything except lose control, fall to her knees, and prove her infantile helplessness for all to see. It had been inevitable, and now Aya makes sure that Ai knows it. But Aya isn’t all cruel. Once the lesson has sunk in, once Ai’s headspace is fully sunk into the seat of her diaper as firmly as her last accident, Ai realizes–this is the prize she wanted all along. She doesn’t need the vibrator, she just needs her diaper, and the slick ecstasy rhythm of Aya’s constant bouncing. It doesn’t take her long. The bouncing lacks the white-hot power of the vibrator, the ability to all but rip an orgasm out of her body, but all of Ai’s intense edging has broken down her mind, left her horny and desperate in a way that only one pleasure could solve: the pleasure she gets from her diapers. She wants this–all of it. Shuddering, Ai’s thoughts laser-focused on her helpless lack of control, relying on Aya’s firm arms to guide her as she bounces up and down. Each new rise and fall now rocks her with pleasure so intense it almost hurts, and only when she’s gasping and whimpering, thoughts numbed by ecstasy, do the bounces slow to a stop. She falls forward into Aya’s waiting arms, sweaty and delirious. “There’s my good girl,” Aya says, patting her back gently. “Now, let’s get you changed, okay? The experiment is over for the day.” (The…huh?) Aya doesn’t explain further, and with her gag in, Ai can’t ask. She wants to, but her head is awash with a soup of endorphins and it’s difficult to convey any requests. ‘Take off my gag so I can speak immediately’ doesn’t occur to her. She’ll ask when she can, if she can, if Aya will allow it and if her audience doesn’t put a stop to anything so reasonable as ‘telling Ai what’s going on.’ Aya guides her to the floor, gently laying Ai on her back, so that her diaper is easily accessible. Reaching for the nearest tape, Aya pulls it free. … Ai blinks. She’s in the room–or, maybe a different room, it’s so bland that she can’t quite tell. Sharp emotional whiplash courses through her–all the hormones and post-coital bliss has vanished. She feels almost sick at the change, like instantly switching from drunk to sober, though there’s no expected headache or physical discomfort to accompany the stark mental shift. Aya is gone. Ai’s diaper is clean–no, that’s not right. Though it’s reasonably dry, and there’s no longer a heavy load weighing down the seat, she can feel a trickle of dampness dribbling into the crotch. She’s mostly clean, but a little wet. Otherwise, she’s naked. A gag is locked in her mouth again–nobody wants to hear what she has to say–but her hands are free. More importantly, her mind is free as well. Something seems to have cleared it–the soup of endorphins that had rendered her thoughts into pulp has lifted. She remembers everything clearly, but with the distance of the morning after, the feeling of a cold dawn light that showed how far she’d fallen just moments before. In the corner, she sees a steel cage, like a kennel that might hold a large dog, but sturdier. Against the far wall is a TV, an old tube style that probably weighs a billion pounds and has its own built-in VHS player. The doors are where Ai remembers, but the handles have been replaced. Instead of padlocks or tumblers, they have pin pad locks. A new puzzle. A clock on the wall counts down–it shows five hours and fifty nine minutes, with the seconds slipping lower and lower. Thirty three. Thirty two. Finally, Ai turns to see a stack of worksheets on the floor, with crayons in a cardboard box next to them. She has a good sense of what she’s supposed to do, but she isn’t interested in playing. She knows that playing will lead to more demolition of her mind, more brainfuck pain and pleasure that will leave her identity in further fragments. Reaching down, she rips off the diaper. … Ai blinks and looks around. She is in the same room, but she’s standing somewhere else. Her brow furrows. Did she…teleport? Did the room move around her? Or did she lose time? The clock shows that only a minute has passed–Five fifty eight and some seconds, not five fifty nine. Looking down, she notes the constant–she’s got her diaper on again, still just ever so slightly damp, though the tapes are different–placed a bit higher, pulled a bit more snug. She wants to say, ‘Screw this’, but the gag stops her, so she just thinks it as intensely as she can and rips the garment free. … Ai blinks, steps back, and stomps her foot. She’s moved again, a few steps over. Pressing both her hands into her face, she groans, muffling her exasperation. Only thirty seconds have gone by. Her diaper… (Fuck this, I’m not wearing a fucking diaper.) She rips it free. … Ai- “AAGGGGHHHH!” She screams, frustration coming through without any need for defined words. Her diaper is still in place–though, looking closely, she sees that duct tape has been added, reinforcing the straining sticky tapes that’d lost their bite after being undone several times. It’s slightly cool, almost clammy, as though it’d been exposed to air for a while. Five full minutes had passed–apparently, some time had been needed to retrieve the tape. Petulantly, Ai refuses to play the game. Knowing what will happen, she rips the tape free and yanks at the diaper beneath. … Ai yelps as she comes to her senses. Things have changed. Her diaper is back–of course–but if it’s held in place with tape, she can’t see, because it’s beneath a ruffled pink onesie that zips up behind her back. Her hands are no longer the tool they’d been before, either–canvas mittens are pulled over them, so while she can bat things around and probably pick objects up in awkward fists, she couldn’t squeeze a zipper or get her fingers under her diaper’s tapes. More acute, more distressing, she feels a solid weight in her bottom–cold, solid metal from a particularly heavy butt plug. Twenty minutes have passed, and the countdown continues. Five hours thirty-four minutes, something-something seconds, she doesn’t care about the precise count. Though there’s nothing written in the room, no notes left for her, she gets the message. If she continues to throw a tantrum and refuses to play the game presented to her, it will only get worse. Right now, she has to deal with a distracting, intrusive plug and no more hands. If she disobeys again, she might find herself back in the straightjacket, or some other torture. Who knows what other obscenities her audience would want done to her? So, though she wants to continue to abstain from her captor’s game, she crouches in front of the TV. Looking at the black glass, at her reflection, she–– Note: Ai does not lose time here, and fully perceives things for a moment. What she sees, however, is withheld from her audience. –”What the fuck?” she yelps, stumbling back, landing on her butt–pushing the plug into her, reminding her of its constant presence. She’s shaken, but she has to keep pressing on. Crawling forward, she presses the power button on the TV, then rewinds the VHS player to the start. The nostalgic whir of reversing tape calms her down a bit, and by the time it resets, her heart has stopped pounding. When it plays, her pulse skyrockets again. A woman with vaguely Southeast Asian features stares into the camera, wavy dark hair rippling over her shoulders and a confident smirk plastered on her lips, her eyes seeming to follow Ai. Ai recognizes the face, but doesn’t understand how she’s seeing it here. “In case you’re too little to properly understand the rules,” the woman says, “I’ve decided to give you this little explainer. If you can complete the worksheets, each one will give you a letter–you do know your letters, don’t you, sweetie?” The woman paused for a moment, to let her leering condescension hit with full impact. Ai just watches wide-eyed, confusion and fear clouding her thoughts. “Well–if you get all the letters, it’ll tell you the combination to the door. Get the door open before your time is up, and you can have a grown up dinner, a diaper change, and you can sleep in a grown up bed tonight. But, if you don’t, you’ll be fed through a bottle and you’ll be sleeping in the kennel behind you. And since I expect the special medicine in the bottle will make your tummy very upset, you’ll be wishing for a diaper change all night, but you won’t get one. You’ll be trapped.” Sneering, the woman on the video reaches forward towards something, and then the video ends. Ai just looks at the black screen for a moment, at her reflection, until the black void of video turns to a blue ‘no signal’ screen. She looks at the worksheets for a moment, but her gaze can’t focus, and she starts to panic. It doesn’t make sense. She saw a detail she wasn’t supposed to see, and the discontinuity has broken her ability to play along. Ai stands, and though her hands are bound by mitts and her onesie keeps her diaper in place, it’s not enough. She can still refuse to play–getting her hands under the hem of the onesie, she yanks at it, tearing the fabric free. Maybe next time they’ll seal her in kevlar or tie her hands behind her back, she doesn’t care, she exposes her diaper–it’s a new diaper, apparently, there’s no tape and the patterns are different–and rips it away.

I miss the adventures of Daphne and Mary ...

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

It's a bit cringe to fixate on baby diapers for adults. We already have adult sized diapers and this is enough. It's important to draw boundaries that we don't cross so we can meet society part way.

cod zombies here

8 - Breaking Barriers Emily’s bottom felt slightly more bulky than anything else as they walked down the hall. The price of absorbency seemed to be added thickness, and weight. But she’d been in it for so long now that she wasn’t as irked over it than she was initially; being dry was still much more preferred, though. The cool weather outside was working its magic as Emily almost felt a little chilly down below, yoga pants not being enough to protect her from the cold. Buried in her underwear were the seeds of betrayal, as her own pee would eventually be working against her too; something she didn’t like to think about. The nonexistent eyes she could feel ogling her slightly-pronounced bottom were beginning to be too much for one day. It felt like she was running on fumes at this point, longing for the safety and comfort they’d find back home. She could only make a silent prayer of thanks that nobody had found out what she was wearing...To her knowledge, of course. Joyce had been sure to reinforce her little girl’s efforts today with only the highest of praise. When they were the only two to occupy the hallway, Joyce made sure to assume her motherly duties and give Emily a gentle pat on the bottom, causing the unexpecting girl to give a slight leap forward from utter shock. “Hey….” Emily looked at Joyce with a telltale pouty face. Whether she intended to or not, Joyce tried her hardest not to crumble when she could see the slightest blush blooming on her puffed-out cheeks. As much as she wanted to respect Emily right now, it only made her want to tease her girl more...But she’d been through enough for today, and she’d have to respect that. “I’m sorry...” Joyce chose to rub her shoulder this time instead of her bottom. “I just want you to know I’m so proud of you...and grateful. You mean the world to me.” Emily shuffled a little bit from hearing those words, still getting used to Joyce’s open affection for her. Deep down as she burned though, the sentiments were certainly not unwelcomed. “Th-...thank you….” Emily mumbled her best thanks. While it may have been easy for Joyce, openly expressing gratitude for the things she’d been put through was a bit tougher for the much more vulnerable girl to tackle. They weren’t hated, but they weren’t exactly normal occurrences. In a way Joyce had the easy part. She didn’t have to give up all responsibility, which was weird in a way to consider as a bad thing when compared to the benefits of relinquishing them… They didn’t prod each other any further in the hall, as they reached sanctuary once more and the inside was just how they left it. Joyce was the first to re-initiate the conversation as she closed the door behind Emily. “So…” She looked expectantly at Emily, who upon sitting down had her face quickly transition from a look of complacency to one of shock and surprise. Crap! Emily in the span of mere moments forgot what she was currently taped in, and could already feel her cooling bodily fluids be released ever so slightly from the thirsty pads she’d just squished from sitting. Trying to maintain her composure, she refocused back on what Joyce was getting at, which she had no idea was. “W-What?” Emily tried to gather herself. “I know today was scary, going out in your diaper, and even using it...” Emily didn’t want to be reminded...But it stung less hearing the words from Joyce. “Do you want to keep going? Now that we’re home?” It wasn’t something Emily considered; another blindspot she felt dumb for leaving so ignored. But even she couldn’t lie to herself when she knew today had already been pretty exhausting. So many trials and tribulations to go out in public in a diaper...and use it...However, she looked at Joyce, her ray of sunshine that enveloped her further every waking moment. It was almost shocking that she’d already spent this much time trying to come to terms with a response. Caught in the duality of being an adult and a baby, which did she prefer right now? It was honestly starting to scare her. In a way, it almost felt like it’d be liberating to stop being a baby for the day. It was honestly kind of hard to work her way into this kind of mood, but thinking back to yesterday from her cuddle time with Joyce...she almost longed for it? That to her wasn’t a chore, and was actually relaxing...And by being an adult again wouldn’t that mean she’d have to do more things? Not that being an adult in front of Joyce created much more expectations...And if she was tired right now, why add more to her workload? Was it okay to keep being babied by Joyce? It was so confusing! Emily didn’t know which to choose, weighing the growing pros and cons to each side; unable to make a decision. She couldn’t come to an answer, and could only whimper. “I don’t know...” Silently, Joyce blinked at the unexpected words. The girl looked to be actually struggling with the question and couldn’t find an answer. Had what they been doing have that much of an effect on her? In a way Joyce was glad Emily could warm up to something like this; it meant everything to have her little girl accept a role like this, but all the same she hated to see her struggle. “Emmy…” Joyce bending her knees took both of Emily’s idle hands, calling her out of her internal dilemma. “Would you like it if I decided for you?” She gave her palms a reassuring squeeze. It was her decision. Her choice that dictated her own life that she was supposed to be the master of. An adult who had made a living for themselves, found a home, a boyfriend, learned to cook and clean and wake up on her own and get dressed. And yet...and yet, why? Why did it feel so...so rewarding to just let Joyce pick up the pieces for her? To let her guide her to wherever she saw fit? The sudden dependence within her left a small piece bitter, but it was overshadowed by the monumental longing to be taken care of. To be closer with Joyce. In a simple nod, ready to pry from her conflicted decision, she nodded. “Yes…” “Okay then…” Joyce said in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice. “Chin up, then, my little kitten! We’ve got a diaper to get you out of.” Emily couldn’t help but smile knowing Joyce had taken the reigns again, content in some way to just sit there and let her untie her shoes. Yes, she was acting like a complete kid right now, but Joyce was happy. And by extension, so was Emily. Now in only her socks, Emily waited patiently for Joyce to take off hers, long forgetting about the diaper she was pressed into until Joyce guided her back onto her feet, feeling the slight added weight from her recent accident. She tried not to think about it though, and kept her eyes and thoughts on what was happening right now, in this moment. Back in Emily’s room, Joyce laid the girl down, her heart racing for knowing what was to come. This would be the fourth time she’s been through this song and dance, and she was only just beginning to show the slightest signs of comfortability with it. Heck, she was only awake for two of the three times it had already happened! Off came the socks first, which revealed the girl’s bare feet and Joyce making sure no barefoot in the house went untickled, resulting in the involuntary giggles and squirming coming from Emily. After enough screaming to stop, Joyce finally conceded and moved on to the rest of the procedure. The pants came next, leading Emily to blush a bit, still learning to be partly naked in the presence of Joyce. What Emily hadn’t expected next though was the shirt, leaving her chest bare minus the bra. “W-wait what? Joyce? I thought you were...changing me….” Emily found it hard to get the more embarrassing words out of her mouth, tapering off into a mumble, as she couldn’t even make eye contact with the person who had now the majority of her clothes in hand. “Silly, I am changing you! But mommy needs to make sure her little girl is always clean, you know.” The helpless and partly distraught girl couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was getting at. Every waking moment was always a surprise. “What do you mean? You don’t need to take off my shirt to change a diaper….” It was hard to say the words with confidence. Despite her own reasoning, her irrational side that accepted the flow of things was poisoning her bravado. Joyce’s words were too convincing. Joyce couldn’t help but chuckle as Emily struggled to connect the dots. It was always so cute watching her flounder in simple curiosity; just to feel her raw emotions be exposed to surprise, knowing they’d always settle into relaxation and comfort. The adventure could always be scary for her charge, but reaching the destination was worth every single second of it. Now that they were back home and safe, Joyce could relish in these moments, knowing Emily probably felt even more accustomed now knowing the indoors was not nearly as prying as the public! “A clean diaper doesn’t always mean a clean baby, my wittle girl.” It was hard to resist the cooing now that they were alone, and the words made Emily squirm in a fuzzy way. “I think it’s time for someone to take a bath, don’t you?” A bath? Well, Emily didn’t have a chance to use the bathroom that morning; in more ways than one. She did miss out on her daily routine, but if they were still in ‘play’ mode then how was she...Emily looked back to Joyce, suddenly red in the face from unspoken confirmation. Joyce only returned a loving smile as only the tapes tearing from plastic could be heard. “Are you….going to...you know…” Joyce finished the words for her. “Bathe you?” Emily, flustered, quietly nodded her head. “Well, I can’t trust you to be in the bathroom by yourself, right? Much less take a bath. Little Emmy needs mommy’s supervision at all times.” She rubbed Emily’s cheek at that statement. The words made her feel so little...so incapable of doing things by herself, meaning she had to rely on Joyce even more. While the talk and change riddled her with obvious embarrassment, the joy that welled up inside of her was unmistakable. In all this time she’d spent with Joyce, it all felt like grooming for the kinds of moments like these when she’d cross a significant line with Joyce; lines like this. Emily didn’t know why she was feeling this way, but like in any other moment of uncertainty, she simply resigned herself to go with the flow. Joyce collected her ankles in the air and slid the used diaper from underneath her, passively taking a look at how well-used it was. Unfortunately, Emily’s one accident was nowhere near to using up the entire thing...but Joyce wasn’t going to force the poor girl to sit in it; not when she had only wet one for the second time. It would be a gradual transition, of course, but Joyce couldn’t help but keep getting caught in her fantasies of the future. Emily had become her everything and she’d trade nothing else in the world for it. “Alright,” Joyce stood Emily up and off the bed, who was currently only in a bra right now. “Let’s get you cleaned up now, hm?” “You’re just gonna leave me naked?” Emily stammered in a weak protest, as her old habits kept one hand in front of her nether regions and the other on her behind. “You can’t wear clothes into the bath, silly. Then they’d get wet!” Joyce intentionally misunderstood her words as she watched Emily fuss. It was clear though she was getting used to being naked around Joyce though, even if decency commanded her to hide her most precious parts. It was about pushing Emily a little bit further each time though, but never too far outside her comfort zone. “But I think mommy forgot one last thing to take off,” Joyce nodded over to Emily’s last piece of dignity. Her bra. “C-can’t I just take it off in the bathroom?” Emily so desperately wanted to maintain any shred of dignity she could hang on to. Things were moving fast and she suddenly wanted some way to fight the tide. “Emmy, honey, turn around for me please.” Wordlessly, Emily followed her instructions, almost ready to cry from what was to come. Guided by Joyce, she knew it was okay on some level to be handled like this, but it didn’t make things easier. The adult inside of her was fighting now, but the more accepting part of her was clearly winning the battle. “Shhh shhh it’s alright. It’s just getting ready for bathtime, that’s all.” Emily’s emotions weren’t ready for when she heard the click of the strap coming undone, now hanging lifelessly. Out of instinct Emily took the hand that was covering her behind to support the unhooked garment she still had on. But slowly and gently, a second set of hands slid them off of her, leaving her chest bare and body completely and truly exposed. Reorganizing her efforts, now one arm covered her chest and the other her front. A bare backside was something she’d have to accept. “Alright my little exhibitionist,” Joyce did her best to try and lighten the mood. “Let’s get somebody in the tub now. Don’t you think?” “Mhm...” Emily’s words were few and far between now, taking all of her mental fortitudes to stay composed. Even if she wanted to be okay with this, overwriting what trained instinct told her was a difficult task to manage. As loving as it was, Emily could feel Joyce watching over her; caught in a mix of happiness and fear. Emily wasn’t budging though, trapped in her own internal dilemma again. Joyce almost let out a sigh, watching her little girl struggle like this time and time again. But from what past experiences taught, Emily tended to respond well with a little shock to the system. “Does somebody want mommy to carry them as well?” Joyce whisked a yelping Emily into the air, as she quickly wrapped her arms around Joyce’s neck and waist with her legs. Her morals berated her and screamed indecency as her bare chest pressed against someone who was modest enough to be clothed; her crotch as well. It was even more of a bitter pill to swallow with her butt on full display. But to who? There was only she and Joyce in the apartment after all… Burying her head from the shame, Emily in a muffled cry spoke. “Can you please let me down?” “Maybe when we get to the bathroom,” Joyce replied. She didn’t like forcing Emily into situations like these, but so far it seemed to be the best way to get over a slump. “I know you might be a bit embarrassed right now, but you already know I’ve seen everything you have, right?” A bit embarrassing didn’t even begin to describe, but Emily knew there was truth to her words. Since day one, excluding the diaper changes Joyce had changed Emily’s clothes the first time they met. She could remember it like it was yesterday; waking up in a nightgown and different underwear, and with no bra too. By that logic she had no right to be embarrassed, but even then…. Joyce rubbed the small girl’s back while they made their brief trek to the bathroom. It felt short for Joyce, but like an eternity for Emily. Every subtle movement and shift Joyce made while Emily sat there naked came back to her in critical and vivid detail. Down to Joyce’s hands, which supported her naked thighs and fingers that just edged on the cheeks to her bottom. She hated it as much as it started to become alluring to her; another step to the bonding process. Joyce had already unlocked the bathroom before they left that morning; already planning to do something like this should Emily have wanted to continue. Honestly she didn’t expect it, but would have given herself a literal pat on the back for planning anyways, had she not been occupied with a naked Emily, of course. Inside and with the door closed, the warm and contained bathroom atmosphere enveloped Emily. The entirety of the apartment was kept well-heated, but nothing compared to being laid bare as soon as she got out of the bath. It almost helped her forget the circumstances she was in right now. “Could you...let me down now, please?” The contact between the two had certainly been intimate but Emily wanted to collect herself. Joyce may have been a bit more accepting than her, but Emily was still getting accustomed to her new attire. “Under one condition, hon.” “What’s that?” Just from hearing the unknown terms Emily’s heart skipped a beat. What could it be? What more did Joyce want from her? “If I let you down, you have to promise me one thing: I don’t want you to try and cover up, okay?” No, no, she couldn’t be serious. This was too much! Emily didn’t want to be so exposed in front of the person she cherished so much. It felt...wrong! She didn’t know how she was supposed to get closer to Joyce, but this was a means she didn’t want to follow through with. What was natural was being challenged yet again and anything other than protest seemed impossible! Yet at the same time, all of their past moments came flooding back, contradicting everything she was trying to stand for right now, especially when Joyce first...pleasured her. Even now...it was just a compilation of everything she’d experienced thus far. She just wanted Joyce to make the bad feelings go away… The silence had gone on long enough and Joyce started to coax. “Emmy, you should know by now shame isn’t something you should ever feel when you’re with me. If you want to feel sad, or angry, then sometimes that can’t be helped. But always and I mean always, at the end of the day you’ll be my special little girl. It’s my job to keep you happy, you know? So far I’ve fed you, changed you, pampered you, and more. You liked that, didn’t you?” Once more Emily could only nod, letting the words talk her down from the ledge. This wasn’t manipulation, because even the rational side of Emily knew it was true. “And now I need to clean you. You don’t want to be dirty, right?” Emily shook her head. Everything came so simply when it was through Joyce’s words. “No, of course not!” Joyce laughed a little. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed being naked around me sweetie. Embarrassment and shame aren’t allowed when I’m here with you, okay?” Emily nodded once more, taking in the pure words of only acceptance and embrace; devoid of anything impure or negative. Joyce cooed. “Good! Now if I let you down can you promise to be a happy little girl for me?” She didn’t feel like herself anymore; not when Joyce talked to her that way. Everything felt so real, the way she was cared for and handled made it too believable to think otherwise. Emily wanted to cry from happiness right now. She’d still be a little red-faced, but she could manage if Joyce said it was okay. One final time Emily nodded her head, and then she could feel Joyce’s grip loosen, announcing touchdown when Emily’s feet made a slight plop noise when they connected to the tiled floor. “There she is! Right as rain!” And red as a rose. Joyce could see her tiny smile as she looked away, with a face as red as a tomato. She’d keep the last part to herself though. This was already more than perfect. Emily rubbed one of her arms uncomfortably with the other while she shuffled everso bashfully. Her heart felt ready to jump out of her chest the more she stood still. Doing as Joyce asked she tried her hardest not to cover up again; her breasts and privates on full display. But every time she’d sneak a glance at Joyce’s gaze, it was never a look of disdain, disgust or negativity. It was pure warmth. The acceptance was wonderfully heartbreaking, and it felt even the slightest bit more comfortable to be on full display, and realize there were no repercussions for it. “Phew!” Joyce said in relief. “Had you given mommy any more trouble I might have had to get in the bath with you!” She ruffled the hair on the top of Emily’s head, a new sense of shock overcoming her. What? Was she kidding? She had to be joking! Right? Emily quietly watched, beet red while Joyce started to fill the bath, speculating what it might have been like to bathe with Joyce. Just to imagine seeing her whole figure...W-w-w-wait! Get it together! Emily quickly chased the thoughts out of her head, trying to focus on the task at hand. It was an understatement to say she felt out of her element being naked in front of someone else, but needless to say Joyce’s casualness towards it was a godsend. Joyce always knew how to make Emily feel better and this moment only made her grow more trusting of the fact. Joyce’s hand monitored the gushing water until it had reached the perfect temperature; catching the midway just between too hot and lukewarm. She almost felt a little sad, when the thought hit her. It wouldn’t be much of a bath without any bubbles or toys...damn! Joyce quietly chastised herself, a failure of a mommy who couldn’t even give her little one something to be entertained with. But...Joyce snuck a look at Emily’s bare backside once more, watching her longingly. Emily wouldn’t mind, she was easy to please. It didn’t make Joyce’s infraction any less significant, but on the surface Emily would be alright. That just meant it was another fun bathtime to look forward to down the road. Gathering towels, a sponge, soaps, shampoos and an empty cup, Joyce set up her workstation whilst Emily watched quietly nearby, still trying to sort through her own emotions. Joyce set a towel for the amenities and another to kneel on. A much larger one was kept folded for Emily. “I know we didn’t get any food into you while we were out, so maybe we could have a late lunch?” “Whatever’s fine...” Emily said, still trying to find her words. “We could order out, you know?” “Really? From where?” This caught Emily’s attention, from both curiosity and a strange sadness. Takeout on any night was good, but a night without Joyce’s cooking was...questionable. Hence why she was having second thoughts. “Sandwiches? Pizza? Sushi? I want you to pick for a change. Wittle Emmy gets to pick tonight!” Joyce fired her loving coos towards Emily, who kept her tingling feelings to herself. It was the first time Emily actually had reign in her miniature role. It was no real power that was given to her, which is why it was so much more thrilling. No matter what she did she would still be safe under Joyce’s watchful eye. She’d been given the freedom of choice, but she was still well-within Joyce’s influence. And honestly she’d been so used to being cooked such amazing meals that she’d partly forgotten what it was like to cook for herself. It was a little strange to realize that...“I’m not sure...Can I have some time to think?” “Of course.” Joyce finished tying her hair up into a bun and rolling up her sleeves. Then for no reason whatsoever, she snuck over to Emily, giving her a warm hug. Of course in return it caused the naked girl to jump, still adjusting to her naked display. “Wh- why are you...?” Not in a voice of protest, but general concern and curiosity. “Can’t mommy hug her little girl when she feels like it? Or maybe I’ll have to tickle my way into one!” In tune with the build-up in her voice, Joyce’s fingers quickly scurried up and down Emily’s sides, resulting in an immediate squirm of thrashes and cries as she struggled to fend off the tickle tormentor. Somehow finding a chance to escape, whether it was a sign of mercy from Joyce she didn’t know, Emily bolted to the other side of the tub, trying to cover her sides from any further attacks; an irrational part of her even briefly considering a ranged assault. With a distraught look on her face, she could only watch the playfully vicious Joyce give her a motherly grin. “Not funny…” Emily pouted, establishing a safe distance between the two. “Awww...I’m sorry Emmy. I didn’t mean to chase you away!” Joyce opened her arms in a wide, welcoming stance, the predatory look in her eyes diffusing into something much calmer. “Do you forgive me?” She did look genuinely apologetic... Emily shuffled with uncertainty, trying to discern whether or not Joyce had a trick up her sleeve. But the hug did seem nice...so maybe...Carefully, Emily edged closer back to her former enemy, toe by toe, the only sounds in the room being the bathroom fan and the mini waterfall filling the tub. Within a few tile’s distance, Joyce slightly leaped forward, latching her arms around her cautious prey. “Gotcha!” Joyce playfully shouted. Oh no! Not again! Emily started to squirm, anticipating another tickle attack at a moment’s notice. Her earlier escape was starting to feel like a fluke though, because now it was clear Joyce didn’t want her wriggling away. But during her futile efforts, it became clear Joyce had no intent to attack. The two slumped to the floor, with Emily overshadowed by Joyce’s larger figure and placed in her lap, returning the hug in the best way she could by latching onto her arms. Even if Emily’s cheeks were burning right now and she was naked, she was more focused on enjoying the moment. A little more time passed until Joyce finally released Emily for good, content with their cuddling and judging it was time to turn off the faucet. The expansive tub was filled and it was time to get a certain someone clean. Had she not taken a shower this morning she’d almost have felt obliged to join her. But that might be a bit too much right now...Joyce wasn’t sure how Emily would read the situation then. Joyce clasped her hands together. “Alright! In the tub, missy.” Already reminiscent of their hugging, Emily edged one foot into the tub, feeling the immediate shift in temperature as she acclimated to the near-hot water. It did feel good; certainly pleasant enough to wash the day’s fatigue and dirt away. Though, the last part was just added for effect. In Joyce’s care, there was no way Emily had even come close to a speck of blemish that could harm her shine. Even as they were separated right now in the flesh, Emily could feel Joyce’s emotions wrapping her in a pleasant, snug cocoon that didn’t want to let her go, and Emily didn’t want to leave. Lowering herself into the rewarding bathwater with these thoughts was nothing short of bliss and sweet serenity. And to top it all off, Emily started to feel like puddy when she could hear Joyce’s hums follow behind her from ear to ear; indications of Joyce already getting to work. “Does my little kitten like being pampered like this?” Joyce calmly spoke as she eased Emily further into the water, just enough to submerge her black and shimmering hair. “Mhm…” Emily spoke in a quiet whisper. She was too entranced to fully give a response. Joyce’s smile only grew wider when the ecstasy written all over Emily was emanating. Slowly, Joyce traced one of her fingers over Emily’s head in circular motions, dancing across her nape. “Now tell me, what does little Emmy want to smell like? Lavender, lotus or peach?” “Pick for me, please…” Emily quietly moaned, too busy enjoying the sensation from her scalp being massaged. Well, if Joyce had ever thought Emily were in pure bliss, now would be it. She’d have to keep moments like these in mind whenever Emily might need a breather. But...Joyce was in the mood for peaches; she wouldn’t mind that smell moving around the house. Not that Emily could have ever made a wrong choice. Oh, just to dote on someone else who was willing was such an indescribable feeling! Emily...if only she knew how important she was. Joyce doused the sponge in the body wash, dipping it into the bathwater and helping Emily back into a sitting position, her wet hair hanging heavy, collected into a smooth mass. She watched as the wet hairs fell in line as they left the water; unperturbed by anything that touched them. “Alright, Emmy. It might feel a little strange at first, but bear with me, okay?” Emily absent-mindedly nodded as Joyce started to scrub with the fruity-scented sponge up and down her back, gentle with the utmost care in each and every up-and-down motion. Trying to relish every moment, the distant fact hurt that they wouldn’t be able to do something like this for a bit. A week in fact. Joyce felt a little selfish voice inside her head, entertaining the thought at what it might be like if Emily didn’t have to work at all. Then she’d always be here, ready for her mommy to look after her...No! What was she thinking? It was just a simple fantasy. Nothing more. Emily was an adult, and even Joyce didn’t think Emily would want to surrender herself completely, and that was more than understandable. Besides, it wasn’t like Joyce could put her life down either. Yes, there was a very special spot reserved exclusively for Emily now, but right now that couldn’t be her everything. She couldn’t exactly stop working. Prestige came at a price. This was only the second time they bonded like this before. Joyce was fortunate enough to have gotten this far and should already be grateful. Besides, it only had yet to get better and more rewarding for the both of them. Joyce settled her sights and thoughts on those moments, those which weren’t far off in the future. A good hour went by in the bathroom; both Joyce and Emily soaking in every possible moment. Emily had certainly gotten a bit jumpy when Joyce cleaned her more...sensitive parts, but Emily let it happen nonetheless. Joyce carried on the conversation for the both of them, as the girl in the tub was simply too intoxicated to invest herself. Joyce scooped one last batch of water into the cup and let it trickle into a full-on pour over Emily’s head, washing the rest of the conditioner away. “I know you’re having a good time, honey, but I think it’s time we get you out of there. I can’t have my baby girl turning into a raisin on me!” Slowly being drawn back into the atmosphere of reality, Emily was sad to see the bathwater go, watching as Joyce opened their exit and the warm, steamy crowd flushed out. Immediately as the water level began to sink, not even the heated fan could convince Emily it wasn’t chilly. Trying to hang on for as long as she could, the water reached a point where she couldn’t fully submerge herself anymore and she was just teasing herself at that point. Standing up finally, there was thankfully Joyce with a towel she could have mistaken for a blanket waiting for her. It was a towel Joyce would sometimes use for her torso, going as far down to just above her ankles. With that size comparison, it might as well have been a blanket to Emily. Draped in her robe Emily felt safe from the harsh temperatures yet again. “There we go. Now she smells perfect!” Joyce gave her an exaggerated sniff as she rocked her from side to side. It was always fun when they could be together like this. This was true. Even Emily was pleased with how she smelled. Not that it was bad before, but now a certain scent had been emphasized yet again. Earlier this morning it would have been the lavender Joyce powdered her waist in… As she sat there though, stewing in her thoughts, a sudden urge struck her, one that bloomed confusion and worry inside of her. Just as a hunch, Joyce couldn’t help but think she saw a shift in Emily’s demeanor. “Something wrong?” “Er….I…” Emily could feel the embarrassment coming back to her in troves and under a different mask. It was a new problem she hadn’t faced with Joyce before. To even consider mentioning it pushed what she thought could be the most shameful to new limits. “Do you need to pee?” Joyce blankly asked, wondering if she hit the nail on the head. Of course Emily would still have trouble mentioning those kinds of things, so it was her job to draw them out of her. “No…” Emily sheepishly tried to look in any other direction than where Joyce was. Knowing her, it probably wouldn’t take much longer to build from there. Peeing was one thing. So it was only logical next she’d guess… “Is it maybe for something else?” Joyce danced around the exact words, trying to keep her girl in one piece. Awkwardly, trusting in the time the two had taken to build such a stronger bond, Emily nodded her head. So that’s what it was...Joyce almost bit the side of her lip, pondering over what to do. Messing was obviously too soon for Emily. Baby steps. And Joyce wouldn’t go to get her a diaper just to put her through that, no. It had to come much more naturally; not forced circumstances like this. “Maybe Emmy’s ready to use the big girl toilet?” Joyce suggested, still trying to maintain the parental role. Keeping it in the realm of babying would surely resonate with her. Emily’s heart found its rapid pace again as she realized Joyce was giving her a free pass on this one, which she couldn’t be thankful enough for. Emily couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of taboo she’d commit--to use a diaper like that. It was unthinkable. Joyce stretched out her hand and guided Emily back to her feet, undoing the towel for her and letting it unravel on the ground. Naked again, Emily let Joyce guide her over to the toilet. But once Emily sat down, she couldn’t help but notice the pair of legs she wouldn’t look any higher than were fixed in place. Facing her. “Uhm...Joyce?” Emily was a little afraid to ask, already expecting a certain answer. “What is it honey?” “Could I have some...you know…” “Privacy?” Emily let her head do the talking for her again. “Emmy, you know I can’t leave you here alone. What kind of mommy would I be if I left you unsupervised?” She responded in tears, as Joyce gave her yet another painful test. Everything around them faded away, until the only things that remained were Emily, Joyce and the porcelain throne. “Please…” Emily half-mouthed not wanting things to happen like this. The pressure was building. “Emmy...” Joyce got on her knees, lowering enough to catch Emily’s downward gaze. “Remember when I said you don’t need to feel ashamed or embarrassed around me?” “I know...but!--” Joyce quickly cut her off. “And, this is one of those moments, sweety.” “I don’t want to do this Joyce...Please let me go on my own…!” Joyce came to a conclusion, dealing Emily with her ultimatum. She didn’t feel happy doing this, but just like before bathtime, these sorts of things took encouragement. “Okay Emmy,” Joyce took her hands with Emily’s. “I’m not going to make you go potty in front of me if you don’t want to.” Really? Did she mean it? Emily could feel an internal sigh of relief knowing she could be at ease now. “But,” No! Why did there have to be a but? “You have three choices, okay?” Emily silently listened with attentive ears. “One, you can use the toilet for me and I’ll make sure my big girl does a good job.” Oh how she hated that idea. Joyce may have bathed her, made her pee herself, but poop? “Two, I can get you one of your diapers, and you can mess in that, and then I’ll change you.” Absolutely out of the question. She cherished the toilet far too much to do something like that, but a strange submissive part of her couldn’t help but laugh in glee at how she was being talked down to. It made her feel so tight in Joyce’s arms and so dependent! “Or three, I can let you use the toilet on your own, but I leave the room and we stop this for the rest of the night.” Option three sounded the most ideal to her rational side. But then what? Emily hated to admit how their intimacy was growing on her and to know how she’d feel empty for the rest of the night was an annoying thought she couldn’t bear. She knew it was the most practical, and yet why couldn’t she bring herself to say those words?! “I’ll give you the count to three, okay?” Three seconds? That wasn’t fair! How could she drop this bombshell of a dilemma on her, and only give mere moments to decide? It was so frustrating! Emily loved what they had. There, she said it; internally, at least. But to put it at stake like this? To test their limits so suddenly? Joyce always knew how to push her buttons, and Emily was always in the palm of her hand… “One…” Joyce wasn’t sure what Emily would choose. The mommy in her of course wanted option two, but both of them knew it’d never happen. Not now. At best it was a decoration for the much more plausible other two. She’d have to settle for option one, but even then Joyce had her doubts. “Two…” To even let a second pass was a little shocking to Joyce. Could she really be struggling that much? Oh, how could she being doing this to Emily!? She was a monster; putting her little girl on the fence like this; forcing her to make such difficult decisions. She had half a mind to call off the deal and give Emily her private time with no repercussions… Still maintaining her calm composure though, “Three…” Before the next interval between seconds could pass, a tiny voice made itself known, and bubble of confusion and distress had suddenly popped, when a flustered voice finally squeaked its response. “One!” Joyce looked at Emily; the flustered one’s eyes sealed shut, as if she couldn’t even believe her own words. “...One?” Joyce had to confirm. Yet again the small package had delivered her another almost overwhelming surprise. “Y...yes…” Emily trembled, quickly coming to terms with what her choice would entail. She continuously beat and berated herself; trying to figure out what could have possibly urged her to go with option one; the very one she tried to get herself out of! It hurt; trying to be honest with herself...But it hurt even more to run from it. Both she and likely Joyce knew that she was starting become attached to this. She couldn’t let it go now. This wasn’t something she wanted to go through, yet all the other fun things they’d do together is what kept her pushing forward. Joyce kept her small doubletake silent as she outwardly beamed with pride for Emily’s unexpected bravery. It made her hate herself even more for forcing Emily’s hand like this, but at the same time she was focused on pushing Emily’s limits. It was like stretching out a sock. Every time you try to slip it over something bigger, after enough time it becomes accustomed to that size, and its capacity becomes bigger and bigger. Slowly but surely Emily was becoming more okay with more and more demanding situations. Emily’d already made leaps and bounds, and Joyce loved her all the more for it. Emily took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come. Before she even started adding to the physical pressure, her mind was racing; a crying fit ready to start again. It was almost like a modern-day discovery to find someone who could cry this much. Her adrenaline was pumping and all she could do was sit still and hang on to her metaphorical rock; each of their hands interlocked with the other. For a brief moment, even Joyce found herself lost in thought; quickly jumping back to the frontlines. This was no time to be spacing out. She had to be there for Emily; once and if she crashed… Her body was clearly resisting, trying to convince her of the foolishness she was committing right now. Emily knew that all too well. Joyce was what kept her going though. Never in her life had she been so dependent on someone before; not even Jack. In the small span of a little more than a week, lingering feelings of attachment and inseparable sentiment were taking form. Why was she thinking about all these things right now? Being so close to Joyce? Naked on a toilet, going number two in front of the one person she wanted to be with the most. But it was alright, right? Deep down she harbored the fear of betrayal; and as soon as she would do her deed, she’d become something unsightly...But Joyce said to, after all. “You can do it...come on...In one...nice...big...push!” Joyce encouraged in a low voice, squeezing Emily’s palms. While Joyce never exactly wanted Emily to use the toilet when they had their mommy time together, the value in an experience like this was unmistakable. Right here, right now, they were breaking down barriers; opening little Emily up to new possibilities. Her muscles tensed as she could feel it coming, the mass inside of her would be let go, right in front of her; the one she wanted to impress the most; the one she wanted to be cared for by. She was being watched use the toilet like she couldn’t be trusted. She was small...she wasn’t independent… It didn’t feel real; the absence of privacy. A setting and state that had been commonplace for decades was now nonexistent. Removing something so crucial, so essential to the bathroom procedure was incomprehensible, yet here she was, doing her business in front of another person; an adult. Which is why when it finally released, when she finally pushed it all out, hearing that shameful, childish plop in the water, announcing what she’d done for the whole world to know, everything she had known to signify any sense of maturity or adulthood shattered. Emily didn’t make a noise this time, other than staring back at Joyce, her bottom lip quivering the ever slightest with a set of hollow eyes; a look telling of Emily’s grief, shock, and sadness from what she’d done. The moment itself had been surreal enough, but to claim responsibility for it made her even more of a stranger to herself. Despite that, the lighthouse which called the ship back to shore though was that same, glowing smile. The one that always kept Emily from wandering astray; to lose herself in the darkness and despair. In this vast, unknown world Emily had just begun to explore, her guide waited right there for her with open arms. It was those two words which were powerful enough to shine away the fog in Emily’s glassy eyes. “Good girl.” It was Emily’s turn to initiate the hug this time; still partly on the toilet seat. She was disgusted with herself, but she needed Joyce more than ever now, who was more than happy to oblige. “I...Is th-that enough?” Emily sobbed into Joyce’s shoulder, forgetting about her still-wet hair, unknowingly allowing the expensive fabrics on Joyce’s body to soak up the water dripping from it. “That was perfect, Emily. You did plenty.” The task she had just performed, to do her business on the toilet was physically and mentally draining; contradicting second nature as she knew it. Anything she had left in her body to support her muscles had been completely redirected to just hanging onto Joyce with every last spec of energy in reserve. Joyce reassuringly stroked her hair.“It might have felt scary, but you did it, and I want you to know how proud I am of you. I won’t force you to do any more difficult things tonight; don’t worry. You just relax and be proud for me, okay?” Emily wasn’t sure how proud she could feel right now, but in her scrambled state she could only nod yes over and over. She didn’t know whether it was to convince Joyce or herself. “Don’t ever feel ashamed for using the potty in front of me, okay?” Joyce made sure they had complete eye contact now. “You don’t ever need to hide anything from me, okay?” While she was weak, Joyce would make sure to slip only positive reinforcement before Emily put herself back together. She only wanted Emily to feel good things; be happy about this. “Mhm…” Emily kept sniffling, still exhausted from her deed. “Now do you want to finish getting cleaned up?” Joyce didn’t pay the water blotch on her shoulder any mind. Back to her quiet, teary self, Emily agreed and let herself be wrapped up again. Joyce finished the hard part for her, using a blowdryer and dabbing her all over with another towel to get her nice and dry until not a single drop of water remained. And as Emily sat there lazily and blinked her eyes, now that her emotions were settling down, there wasn’t anything left to hide the sudden fatigue sweeping over her. “Is someone a bit sleepy?” Joyce poked. It wasn’t surprising after all she’d been through. She’d hardly even slept during the ride home. Emily yawned in response, fast to accept the hold Joyce let her confide in. In a princess carry the world started to fade away; suspended in a coming dreamland. Joyce watched her hang there so peacefully and reflected on how vulnerable she’d become in the span of a single day. It was Emily’s way of extending her trust to Joyce, who would never trample on such a priceless treasure. Planting her lips on the top of Emily’s exposed forehead, she whispered a goodnight to Emily and held her still for a moment longer. In a lowered voice though Joyce let out a sigh, watching Emily with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one that was gonna pick lunch?” She glanced at the nearby clock, then gently set her down. “Guess it’s dinner now...” 9 - Behind the Scenes She tossed and turned, stirred, tangling herself in her own hair as she shifted from pillow to pillow. The fact she’d even been moving at all was a sign the sleeping girl had just begun to properly enjoy the luxuries of a privileged lifestyle. When she finally came to, she let out an unintentionally unreserved moan as she stretched, letting the whispers of the waking world call her back from a deep sleep. When she opened her eyes, she was facing one of the many window panels adjacent to her bed; a slight parting in the curtains revealing a night sky lifted by a bustling skyline. The room was dark, minus for the orange glow that came from the lamp on the nearest nightstand. Getting her bearings, she curiously rolled over to the other side, hearing a crinkle murmur underneath the covers. The clock read 7:27 PM, confirming her view outside. One hand on the covers, she lifted them up to peer inside, following her shadowed torso, seeing she was now in the same monkey shirt she’d been in from yesterday’s play. What was more important though was the obvious medical diaper she was taped into; identical in every aspect as all her other ones had been. Her heart began to shuffle just from recalling the recent events, remembering the toilet in the bathroom. But where was Joyce? Did she put her to bed? Emily started to recall how exhausted she felt from earlier, and the distant fragments about falling asleep in Joyce’s arms. The sleep still had yet to be shaken out of her. Only by moving around would she give her mind some clarity. Her silent thoughts remained unperturbed by the distant noise pollution that countless flights of economic might separated her from. With a yawn and rubbing her eyes, Emily idly spoke to no one in the room. “Where are you...Joyce?” Sweeping her blankets to the side, Emily hopped out of bed, mildly attentive of how the diaper conformed to every movement she made. Looking at it reminded her of Joyce...specifically how it made her...her baby girl. A strange smile crept on Emily’s face just from thinking such things, but she tried not to lose herself in such gushy thoughts. Padding across the carpeted floor and to the nearly closed doorway, it revealed an illuminated hallway that led to an even brighter living room. But in her brisk movements, Emily could feel the slightest breeze kiss the higher parts of her thighs, reminding her she was just walking in a shirt and diaper right now. Had she really not noticed? Emily’s sleep-lingering eyes widened a bit at the unusual discovery. It would probably be for the best if she got some pants to cover up...But then a strange suggestion popped into her mind. Maybe it would be better if she...didn’t? The second voice in her head was just as shocking as her actions right now. Maybe...maybe Joyce would be happier if she didn’t put anything else on...Her heart thumped at the thought of doing something so...so...risuqé? Then again, such a sexual word didn’t exactly sum up wearing a diaper for her authority figure… Never had she acted out like this of her own volition. It was always Joyce who initiated stuff like this. No matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it though Emily couldn’t help but wonder if staying barely clothed like this would be for the better. Maybe this stuff really was rubbing off on her...As scary as it was, it meant she was that much closer to Joyce… With a slower pace, Emily chose not to turn back and inched closer toward the kitchen. Her nose started to perk up at the sudden smells that teased her. The scent was familiar, and for that reason she knew how delicious the food must have been to permeate such an alluring aroma. Trying to be as quiet as a mouse (or kitten, rather), Emily caught the sight of a busy Joyce, who had changed shirts since the bath and looked to be setting plates. A sudden sense of mischief entered Emily’s mind, already bombarded with so many bold thoughts today. Carefully, she snuck up behind the turned Joyce, growing closer and closer...right until… “BOO!” The voice was loud, and unexpected; especially because it was from Joyce, who had made a complete one-eighty. She tricked the trickster. Clearly not prepared for the counterattack, Emily found herself to be the one jumping with a yelp as her feet dressed in socks slipped across the tile and her bottom hit the ground. The floor was hard and she could feel it too, a little upset over her massive blunder, and for letting the tables be turned so easily. “How did you know?” Emily tried to hide her aggravation while she accepted the two hands pulling her back to her feet. Joyce could only look down on her (literally) with a loving grin. “Mommy’s intuition?” Joyce suggested, giving her a brief hug. Caringly she patted the diapered girl’s bottom. “Does your tushy hurt from hitting the mean floor?” “No...” Emily said dismissively, finding herself already flustered once more. Joyce couldn’t help but leave a slight giggle to herself. Emily had made an honest effort, but she’d already known the diapered girl was nearby for quite a bit. Even amongst the takeout food giving off its smells of chicken, meats and rice, that peach smell she’d spent so long rubbing into the girl was unmistakable. Not to mention her diaper crinkled louder for others than she thought. For the caring mother’s ear, at least. Mother. Yes, Joyce was a mommy, and it made her giddy to even think about her realized dream. It made her even happier though to share these moments with Emily. Regardless, she wouldn’t tell Emily how loud she actually was, lest she leave her feeling even more self-conscious. Speaking of which, Joyce’s eyes quickly scanned Emily’s figure up and down, who had chosen to stay in just the clothes she dressed her in. Seeing Emily stay how Joyce had dressed her pulled at the heartstrings in a way she couldn’t even begin to describe. It was adorable to think of Emily wanting to be waited on hand and foot, and being only in charge of her emotions; leaving all the rest to her caring guardian. The further things moved along, it would make it that much harder to tear off the band-aid when the Sunday night would come to an end, and a week of prohibited intimacy would begin. They’d always have their cuddle moments, of course, but never could it reach this level when they’d be busy all day; almost all week. She remembered first trying to envision Emily in the underwear she had first gotten her. It wasn’t ever sexual, but simply the act of it in how it suggested her shamelessness; willing to parade herself around the house however she pleased, and in whatever clothes she wanted. It was those carefree feelings Joyce would hope Emily could come to learn and love. And watching her now, seeing Emily could put her padded bottom on full display? Well, it made those wishful thoughts of Joyce that much more of a reality. Emily hadn’t known it, but her small plan to stay in just a diaper worked masterfully. It was the delightful subtleties like this that worked to be the nuts & bolts of a contraption that could run flawlessly and beautifully. It was the little things. “Since someone decided to have a late nap today,” Joyce spoke with a heavy, yet joking emphasis towards Emily. “Mommy decided to order for the both of us.” “You could have woken me up to ask, you know.” Emily retorted. She was perfectly fine with Joyce choosing the food, but didn’t mind being woken up either. Joyce had already started to pull out the white containers labeled with Chinese characters, acting as a thin barrier to the delicious smelling contents inside. “Nonsense. I expect you to keep to a regularly scheduled nap, which you still had five minutes for by the way.” More like a mother, she spoke in a tutting voice; the kind that put Emily in a small space she didn’t want to crawl out of and only snuggle into. “It’s how you can keep up with such a busy day, you know?” Emily conceded to Joyce’s absolute words, moving to get her plate until she was denied, having been told to take her place at the table. And of course it wouldn’t be a proper meal without Emily’s sippy cup, already filled with the sweet apple juice that catered to Emily so well. “You don’t mind Chinese food, right? I know it might not be like what I usually cook around here, but I think it’d be nice for a change.” Emily immediately shook her head, hoping not to cause a misunderstanding. “No, this is fine! A night when neither of us has to cook is a good night, I’d say.” “I’ll be sure to cook you something delicious tomorrow to make up for it, okay?” Trying to comprehend how this could have been a misdeed by Joyce’s thought process, Emily tried to stifle her mental hiccup. She didn’t try to dwell on it too much though, as past experience taught it chalked up to her boundless generosity. Her kindness never seemed reserved around Emily. She’d never exploit the soft spot Joyce had for her, but to know she was that special made her heart beat fast. Joyce had taken the liberty in serving the both of them as well, fairly distributing servings of chicken, rice, ribs, and lo mein. In a way the slightly sweet and seasoned tastes reminded Emily of a simpler time, when she’d be lounging around her old apartment and couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger in the kitchen, but was just active enough to open a door and hand someone money. Equally enjoying the meal, Joyce paused her bites to wash it down with her water. Eating like this was nice every once in a while. In a strange way, it almost reminded Joyce of how human she was; if you could even put it to that extreme. Even Joyce thought the reason was laughable, but there was something about indulging in cheap luxuries like this that made her feel like everyone else. A big house, high paying job, limitless vacations, and anything else she could ever want being a few calls away could easily go to anyone’s head. She was proud of herself though for sporting the kind of mental fortitude that would keep her from ever having such delusions. But a reminder like this was still nice. In an odd way Joyce almost felt a little cruel from pampering Emily like this. Not that Emily would ever become spoiled rotten, but Joyce feared if Emily got too close to her, she’d feel these sorts of feelings from being in high society for so long. It was like going from eating just raw shrimp to being dipped in cocktail sauce: the taste was so good you simply couldn’t just stop yourself at a moment’s notice. But if Emily allowed her to, Joyce would never let such a fate befall her. She’d do everything in her power to prevent her fall from grace and keep her happy all the same. “How about we watch a movie after we eat?” Joyce suggested in between bites of food. “A good way to send a little girl off to beddy-bye.” Emily concurred, trying to not get so joyfully hung up on the baby talk. If she had kept doing that she’d be lost in her own thoughts all night. But with each word she could feel the bubbly feelings try to resurface. “And I want you to stay hydrated for me, okay?” Joyce to emphasize her point had already taken Emily’s half empty sippy cup and returned it back to her in a much fuller state. “We can’t have you shriveling up now, can we? ” Emily by now had figured what she was more loosely referring to; the kind of situations that always left her feeling apprehensive and distraught. But the warmth Joyce always basked her in was starting to feel like it was enough to handle the similar sensation in her diaper. Just the thought alone already had her legs squirming beneath the table. Joyce’s attentive ear could pick up on it, but she decided not to call it to attention. The house could have felt like a glass box at times. Because the apartment fell on a corner of the building, it got the most spots to see the vast city from. Even in the kitchen, a glass panel spanned nearly from the floor to the ceiling across from them both, as the busy and bustling lights unapologetically disturbed the black night. She’d have to take Emily out on the balcony at some point, when one of those rare occasions would come and it wouldn’t be so windy. She could see the moment playing out in her head already; being able to expose her to a vast world of dynamic colors that gave off such a fierce glow as they faded into nothing, and the marching armies of cars as they bathed in the orange auras the streetlamps emitted. By day the varying lights from advertisements and buildings went quiet. And by night? Well, needless to say it was a colorful and bright one. Seeing out of one of the windows may have looked spectacular, but being outside and so high up was on a whole different level. “Mommy’s stuffed,” Joyce interrupted the silence, finally content with her daydreaming and meal. “And by the looks of your plate, I’ll assume you’re done too?” Sheepishly Emily gave her a noise of confirmation, as Joyce already started to clean. Excusing herself from her seat, Emily took a second to remember she was in a diaper once again now that it was brought back into view, but quickly doubled down on moving to the living room. “Ah, ah! And where do you think you’re going?” The sudden words froze her in place, and she could feel herself stiffen. What did she do wrong? Emily awkwardly gave a turn, with an unintentionally innocent look on her face. Turning around, a sudden wet and cold piece of cloth was kissing her lips, or smothering the whole area for that matter. Out of reflex she backed away from it, but the washcloth closed the distance faster than she could make it. “You know if you let me wipe your face you could be out of here sooner than you think, you know?” Joyce jokingly chastised. Unable to realize her own foolishness, Emily couldn’t look Joyce in the eyes while her eyebrows were a dead giveaway to her emotions. While she let her carer finish the job, the diaper around her waist suddenly felt much more noticeable. Given how she was dressed, having someone else wash her face almost deemed something like this as appropriate. “Free to go!” Joyce took Emily by the shoulders and spun her back around towards the hallway, and with both hands made direct contact to her padded bottom with a loving pat. It wasn’t the force of her push that had Emily rushing, but the contact being made with her ever so embarrassing underwear. Joyce could only giggle to herself when she saw the crinkly and flustered rump disappear around the corner. She knew Emily was enjoying this too, which made it feel that much more special. Emily out of sight and with a reluctant hand slightly rubbed the back of her diaper where Joyce had made contact. She touched it as if Joyce had left something there, but of course she didn’t. It only made her face redder though when she fully registered she was touching her own diaper. Feeling the plastic backing taped around her waist made it a bit too real, and could feel herself retreating into her shell again. But she wouldn’t. If she had made it this far...surely she could keep going for a bit longer. Joyce followed not too long after, throwing away the empty boxes and storing what was left. She could see the black hair that rounded Emily’s head peak just above the couch and could see she draped a nearby blanket over her lower half. Grabbing the remote and sitting right beside Emily, Joyce started to surf for movies. Nothing struck itself as really unique or special. It was all the same generic movie approaches that had the same, washed-up tropes written all over them. So if that’s what it came to, Joyce decided they might as well go all in. “How about this one?” The selected movie was clearly a horror film, depicted with a severed hand lying still in a closeup shot. A strange bug was wrapped in between its fingers, as it seemed to compliment the title in some way reading as “Night of the Firefly.” “Uhm...okay. This is fine.” Emily’s words were slightly awkward and off-beat; rushing her tone. She scratched the side of her head out of a sudden, baseless paranoia. Joyce had given her a look of concern, already putting a hand on her blanketed leg. “You know we don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to, right? We could pick something less scary maybe?” “Wh-What do you mean?” Emily started off in a stammered voice, leveling it out into a partially brave front. “This is fine, really!” Her efforts to overcompensate were as easy to read through as it was to look through a window. But, Joyce would indulge her if she wanted. Maybe Emily was just getting herself worked up. Maybe she even liked to be scared? Joyce hadn’t considered that last part. “Okay then. Here’s your sippy by the way. Drink up, remember?” Joyce grabbed the sippy cup from the coffee table and put it into Emily’s hands, who willingly accepted. She suddenly was feeling thirsty again, and was thankful for the cool drink to calm her nerves. “Ready to start it?” Joyce already had pressed the ‘rent’ button and was ready to hit play next. Taking a breath for herself, Emily gave her the nod and Joyce hit the ‘select’ button. Swiping away on her tablet that happened to be nearby, the lights in the living room had dimmed until they were totally lifeless; enveloping the room in darkness except for the glowing tv and the lights from the nearby windows, which really did nothing to illuminate the room. The light coming from the screen bounced off the couch and the two girl’s figures as they got comfortable. Joyce pulled a pillow over to support her posture as she partially laid on her side with her torso propped up. Emily still sat like normal with her legs folded by her side on the expansive cushion, feeling her uneasy feet shuffle as they rubbed together. It was okay. She could do this. It was just a movie! “Agh! What are you--AHHH!” The poor victim sobbed uncontrollably as she was dressed in cuts and bruises, who had just finished escaping her tormentor after being dealt a nasty gash to the side of her head. She had just escaped, and Emily’s heart cheered for the hopeless girl, but her escape was shortly cut off by the grotesque creature that sunk its pincers into her seemingly fragile neck and collarbone. The screen had shrunk to half its size; for Emily at least. Her hands that covered her eyes split their fingers ever so slightly to satisfy the small part inside of her that wanted to be brave and keep watching, but it was a downhill battle. She’d given up on her juice at least ten minutes ago since things had become so tense in the movie; too afraid to reveal more of the screen whilst she snuck in a sip. It was scary, and Emily was swimming in regret right now as her bladder became painfully tense. Suddenly the darkened apartment didn’t feel so safe anymore...who knows what could have been lurking in the dark. Ugh, yes she was an adult, but horror was clearly not her forte! For her entire life she strayed from the unsettling genre, so why did she think she could handle it now? She was a rock stuck in a hard place. “Emmy,” The girl visibly jumped at the sudden sound of her own voice. The movie had reached a moment of peace, the calm before the storm, and the coincidence was simply too unnerving. But the distress on her face dissipated into relief when she suddenly remembered Joyce was at her side. “Maybe it’s time we stopped the movie?” Oh so how much Emily wanted it to stop, but she couldn’t chicken out now; not when Joyce had already went and bought the movie! She wouldn’t be a buzzkill. That wouldn’t be fair. Her needless resolve could only just keep the tears from the fear the movie pierced into her heart from coming out. She was scared. She wanted to feel safe. A hand from seemingly nowhere then made contact on her lonely shoulder, as Emily yelped from the unknown attacker! The tight pressure she was focused on holding cracked the slightest bit, making the tiniest spurt into her dry pad. “Relax...” Joyce soothed, taking Emily’s eyes of the movie and stroking her arm. “It’s only just a movie. The monsters aren’t going to get you.” Clearly she’d been wrong about the possible thrill Emily might have been seeking for. “I know...it’s just...” The words were difficult to express on how she could explain the fear of being caught by something that she knew wasn’t real. The irrational part inside of her for whatever reason wanted to make it real, or at least used that as a basis to make her tremble and shake. “When you’re scared can you at least be a little more honest with me?” The movie reflected off of Joyce’s unwavering eyes, her full attention focused on Emily. “O...Okay...I’m sorry…” Emily could feel another one of her failures being drawn out into the open, laid plain as day for Joyce to see. But like with each and every vulnerable moment she had, Joyce didn’t act on it. At least not in a cruel way. The same hand that soothed her shoulder pulled Emily over to the laying Joyce and turned Emily into the little spoon in their positioning. The same arm then locked itself around Emily’s waist after adjusting the blanket she had to cover them both. “Then at least learn to snuggle with me if you feel scared, okay? Mommy won’t let the monsters get you.” The movie that had been tormenting her for the past forty-five minutes had suddenly lost its effect on Emily. Being wrapped in the strong, loving embrace of Joyce put her in a bubble that nothing from the outside world could pop. She was back in paradise again and it felt euphoric; just to feel the warmth radiate from the body behind her. As off-putting as it sounded, there was even a certain charm to when she leaned her head against Joyce’s plentiful chest. The mushy feelings inside of her that had started to take shape borrowed her lips for a brief moment, making a small voice just loud enough to hear over the movie’s suspenseful music. “P….promise?” Joyce could feel even her heart skip a little from hearing her. Leaning in a little close with an enchanting and hypnotic whisper to Emily’s ear she spoke. “Promise.” Combined with the pressure Joyce applied to her abdomen, the bursting pressure she already felt down below synergized into an unstoppable force as she could feel the pent-up stress inside of her suddenly leak out of her in a bodily-liquid form. Emily couldn’t hide her exasperated gasp blended with a sigh as the hot stream of urine flooded her diaper. She tried to squirm; afraid of leaking on the couch no matter how much the thing could absorb. A life majorly lived in panties told her no matter what she’d stain the couch, but Joyce wasn’t letting go. “Just let it happen. I’m here, so don’t worry...” Emily silently cried for real this time as she sorted her difficult emotions. The scary movie was the least of her worries when she was so conflicted already; happy to be loved by Joyce, but shocked to lose control of her still very-adult bladder. But as embarrassing as it was and unnatural it felt, consciously aware of the pee following the flow of gravity and seeping to one side of her diaper, the tiniest most minuscule and insignificantly small part of her knew it wasn’t as bad as last time. “Good girl...” Joyce soothed when she could feel Emily start to settle down. The end of their Sunday night was nearing its end, and Joyce wanted to spend the last of their waking time interlocked together just like this. With the hand around Emily’s waist, she pat the front of Emily’s warmer-than-before diaper, making Emily feel even smaller on the inside. Her submissive instincts were writhing in joy and pleasure right now; a side Emily never knew existed within her, and was still unsure of it herself in these moments now. It was hidden away; behind a brick wall that Joyce brought a sledgehammer to every time they experienced some new form of intimacy together. It was only a matter of time until the bricks would collapse completely and the two could truly be enveloped in each other’s warmth. In mere moments the atmosphere changed from horror and a thriller into a field of rosy flowers and shining sun; basking anything within its infinite gaze in a shower of positivity and reinforcement. The cherry on top was when Emily could feel a pair of lips press themselves against her upturned temple. Had Joyce seen Emily’s face, it probably would have been one of the widest, most bashful smiles she’d ever seen on the girl. But the growing outline of her exposed cheek told Joyce enough. “There’s my sleepy girl,” Joyce cooed as she held the bundle in her arms, able to see the slight discoloration in her diaper. The tv was off and the night they wanted to last forever had finally come to an end. Emily quietly stirred but the kind-hearted words made her gush. “No more scary movies for you, missy. Got it?” “Mhm…” Emily sluggishly moaned. Joyce was right. She suddenly didn’t feel the need to be so brave around Joyce anymore, because being scared gave her an excuse to confide in her protector. “Now it’s time to get someone some shuteye,” Joyce explained in a motherly tone. “We need all our energy tomorrow to be a big girl.” The words made even Joyce feel sad to say. Joyce carried Emily into her room, setting her down on the bed with care as she looked at Emily’s diaper with a sad expression. It was probably for the best if she took it off; eliminating any possible unpleasant surprises in the morning. It’d be better to start Emily off in an adult mindset for tomorrow for when she went to work. Curse the weekends for not being longer! Against her maternal judgment, the room suddenly sounded with the noise of adhesives tearing from plastic. “Try and stay awake for a little bit longer, Emmy. I just need to slip some big girl underwear on you...” Grabbing her a pair of the luxury panties Joyce bought her so long ago, she snaked them up the drowsy girl’s legs, who was too tired to worry about being naked. From a force of habit her fingers ran along the pantie’s waistline as if they were a diaper a doting mother would make sure fit. “Goodnight Emily…” Joyce lowered her voice, trying not to disturb the sleepy woman who was fading fast. Pecking her on the cheek she made her exit, opening and moving to close the door. “Goodnight...Mmm...oo…...mmm...” Joyce had frozen in place from hearing Emily’s drunken mumbles. Between her murmurs, Joyce’s ears desperately wanted to hear what they think they did; believing Emily had just tried to call out to her. Not as Joyce, but as mommy. Trying to keep herself reserved, she moved into her office trying to not let her assumptions influence her emotions. Regardless of what she did or did not hear, it hardly changed the fact that this was one of the best weekends she’d experienced in a long time. In fact, it was undoubtedly the best. The alarm buzzed rudely into Emily’s ears, who wanted to drop herself off the face of the earth and bask in the darkness she knew as sleep forever. Trying to put coherent thoughts together, her first order of business was sitting up to get her eyes open and stir the first embers of energy within her. There could never be “Five more minutes” with her on a weekday. Five would become ten, and ten would become twenty. Sleep was a dangerous game she didn’t want to gamble with, because whether it was with cards or Z’s, the house always wins. “I get it, I get it!” Emily bitterly spat as she silenced the blaring noise trapped inside the tiny box. She could see she kicked the blanket off herself last night, and with a bare leg and half her crotch on display she was still in the pink monkey shirt and now a pair of mismatching bright blue & white-striped panties. They were so much thinner and felt relatively soft as well, but the same benefits weren’t as great to these than they were admittedly with diapers. Aside from the comfier cushioning (which she was still ashamed to admit), panties, unfortunately, didn’t come with the motherly Joyce that loved to fawn over Emily so much. Not that Joyce was ever distant, no matter what she wore. But when in her more childish underwear, both Emily and Joyce assumed a respective role that knew just how to satisfy each other’s urges in the most pleasant ways. That being said, one of the two were certainly much more honest with themselves, but to temporarily forget the past and focus on the present, there was a more important issue at hand. Coffee. “Ms. Summers!” John Holland stood from his seat with an open hand. His hair showed the slightest signs of graying, as he fixed the collar to his fitted button-up, tucked into the waistline of his black slacks. “I’m glad you called me here for a meeting! But I have to say, you did catch me off guard when I heard Frontier wanted to do business with our company, BabyCare. I suppose the best way to put it is how we cater to a much more specific demographic!” He laughed. “Mr. Holland, the pleasure is mine.” Joyce returned his shake while she was in a blouse, business skirt, and heels. “I didn’t want today to be too formal,” She gestured to the near-empty restaurant they were in, basing it off of the professionally dressed bartender and diverse array of alcohol to be an expensive establishment. “Admittedly, I was hoping to relay a special order through you. For a client of mine. While it’s not through Frontier it’s still business all the same.” Holland’s smile shifted partway into a tilted expression of curiosity. “Oh?” It seemed the misleading invitation didn’t have him annoyed or bothered on the surface, which was hopefully a good sign. “I wanted to take this to the top of the chain because the order is so unorthodox, to say the least,” she explained. “They were hoping you would be able to put some furniture together for them?” “Baby furniture? We already sell anything a parent could need, though?” Mr. Holland, a wise businessman, was still missing the point. Not that it would have been expected of him not to. This really was unorthodox. “Right, of course. But I suppose they were looking to get what you had except in a bigger form? To support someone of a bigger size maybe? If you understand what I’m getting at?” “For...adults, I presume?” “Precisely.” “Ms. Summers,” He cleared his throat. “I can’t exactly put a one-time order through for anyone that asks; even if they’re someone represented by a company head. As much as we are providers for consumers, focusing company resources for selfish reasons isn’t something I really do; especially if it won’t be turning over a long-term profit.” This was expected of course. Even Joyce knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, or anyone in your position, which is why I was wondering if you might have a prototype team on hand that could maybe carry this order out for my client?” “Ms. Summers,” Mr. Holland began. “Although this meeting has caught my interest, and I would like to help you on a personal level to help this friend of yours out, my business can’t satisfy the needs of a single person.” “Even if price was no issue?” “Even at that.” He sighed. He did want to help Joyce, regardless of it being a strange request. He didn’t want to worsen relations with a potential business partner that worked a field so close to his. It’s okay. This was accounted for too. Money would still entice the man, but that was only a warm up to her true offer. “Mr. Holland, Frontier from our long-term care beds alone we have experienced a widespread consumer response across the country from homes, nursing care units and hospitals. Internationally even. Without going into detail, the figures we experience annually from that alone turn profits over nearly fivefold what it takes to make them. Hasn’t BabyCare always been looking for an opportunity to expand itself into markets similar to the ones you already operate in?” That was natural for any business; the aggression of capitalism itself, and the things Joyce was mentioning were beginning to truly pique the man’s interest; the company’s interest. “Many of our medical care products receive countless awards and customer feedback as top of the line, pristine, and high-quality manufacturing for anything we sell. As it should be. A fun thing the design team has been thinking of though is including a bit more ‘color’ to some of our products. Medical beds, crutches, walkers, braces--I won’t make it a secret that all those things we sell can look relatively bland. Wouldn’t you agree?” Mr. Holland already saw where this was going, but it wasn’t an unwelcome direction. Out of respect for her company, despite her calculated pitch to downplay its own product, Mr. Holland remained silent but was still just as curious. “We’ve already been having talks with the board, you know. But off the record, you didn’t hear it from me.” It wasn’t a risk to leak information like this; they’d be able to manage just fine without BabyCare’s helping hand, but the prospect of business was even exciting to Joyce. “Our statistics returned unsurprising results on how many of our customers that are in the younger age group and need these sorts of products we manufacture are often disappointed by not the functionality, but the look to them.” The parents of course did most of the talking for stuff like that, but there was a voice among the kids as well. “And who can complain? Getting to the point, we were already preparing to come to you with an offer and buy an exclusive license for some of your company’s more popular mascots and characters.” So that’s what it was. They wanted BabyCare’s already established designs and logos; their motifs, characters; everything. “Whether I came to you now, or the board approaches you formally later, this was still a plan in the works. However, I wanted to come to you now with my own little request as a sign of good faith and prospect a healthy relationship. If you’re able to help me now for my friend, I will be more than happy to not only compensate you out of my own pocket, but also get some gears turning a bit faster back at Frontier.” The deal was enticing. BabyCare had always thought of outreaching to other companies, but many of the larger shareholders wanted them to manufacture medical equipment from the ground up. But now they were the ones with a potentially viable on their front doorstep, and from a titan of a company, no less. Details would certainly have to be hashed out and final figures be decided, but Mr.Holland could feel himself falling for the bait. “Ms. Summers, if you need furniture to care for someone bigger than the size we retail to, wouldn’t your own company be a much better idea? Assuming this deal does go through, you could even use our designs for added effect. Maybe hire a freelancing carpenter, or something? I’m not trying to dissuade you, or your client, but it’s just...curiosity?” Joyce almost wanted to gag from the disgusting thought. Seeing Emily nap in a hospital bed with added rails shattered the fantasy, and even mocked it. How was Emily supposed to feel small if she were being treated like a health patient? There was nothing wrong with anyone who needed those sorts of things, but in no way did it establish the atmosphere Joyce wanted. It seemed cruel; to both herself and Emily. For it to truly work they needed to be as genuine as possible. Superficial knockoffs with some cutesy designs on them almost sounded like an insult. Mr. Holland wasn’t at fault for suggesting something like that, though. He just had no idea how deep the rabbit hole went. “I tried to explain the same thing,” She lied. “But my client was pretty adamant on it coming specifically from your company, or at least for it to be as genuine as it’d be for a normal child.” The illusion was fragile, how Joyce was ‘asking for a friend,’ but she reserved the right to deny any direct accusations and she figured Mr. Holland wasn’t in a position to. The last thing he’d want is to upset a potential partnership. “And as for a carpenter they considered it, but they were afraid they might not be able to meet all their needs...” “I see.” Mr. Holland looked to be considering something. Joyce tried not to get her hopes up; there were always alternatives if he refused. The more Mr. Holland weighed his options, the more it felt like it was possible to meet Joyce’s demands. He did certainly have a few experimental teams at his disposal, and he could always see to them being paid a little extra for their efforts if they kept quiet about what they were working on...Not that the contracts they had already signed wouldn’t cover that. The blueprints for the basics like a crib and presumably a changing table need only be upscaled, maybe switched out for some higher quality materials. He wanted to get off on the right foot with Joyce. Some other things might take some modifications...but it was starting to look more and more doable. “We’d need the measurements of whomever this is for to adjust to the right size and weight. I should have a group capable of pushing something like this out, depending on what your client might be looking for. It won’t be cheap, though.” Joyce limited her smile to one that reflected the content feeling of a successful deal, and not that of a doting mother. She could already imagine the countless things in her head that she wanted, how she could indulge in her fantasies the most, and share them with the most special person in the world. All the bits and pieces she’d need to get offhand would be more than doable, but BabyCare was the heart of it all, and she’d just gotten the keys to the kingdom. With her hands in her lap she maintained her outward composure. “Absolutely. I’ll be sure to send you the details. And be sure to let me know what it comes to. Payment won’t be an issue.” “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Summers.” Mr. Holland shook her hand once more. “I look forward to doing some more ‘typical’ business with you and your company. And for simplicity’s sake have your client choose from our already available designs, please. The goal is just to make a larger version of what we already have, correct?” The business they did would be good, but none of it would ever compare to this moment. “I’ll be sure to,” Joyce replied. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement, Mr. Holland.” “I could say the same to you, Ms. Summers.” Mr. Holland backed out his chair and stood up, getting ready to leave. “Oh!” Joyce moderately exclaimed. “I know I invited you here for business, Mr. Holland, but you didn’t expect me to send you on your way with at least a free meal, did you?” Being in these professional situations often made Mr. Holland disregard the setting they were in, forgetting their original purposes. It had been a bit since he’d actually been invited out to lunch and actually would eat. The gesture was appreciated nonetheless. “Sorry,” He tried to laugh it off. “Old habits tend to repeat themselves!” He politely sat back down. He didn’t have anywhere important to be, or at least didn’t want to go to. Some part of him wanted to stay and invest time into this relationship, as despite the professional talk Joyce felt more like a friend even if she looked much younger than he was. The feeling was mutual though, as Joyce both appreciated him as a businessman and hopefully a contractor of sorts. “But,” He interjected. “Forgive me if I’m being rude, and choose not to respond if you want. But why is it that your client wants baby furniture for an adult?” The question had oddly been nagging him, and he couldn’t figure out why. “Mr. Holland,” Joyce took a sip from the glass of water a waiter delivered. “You should know better than to pry on one’s more hidden lifestyle.” There was a moment of silence until Joyce laughed off the unneeded tension in the room, indicating that the mood was still intact. “More importantly, I’m starving,” Joyce gave a relaxed sigh. “What looks good on the menu to you?” Over forty-eight hours had passed since Joyce’s meeting with Mr. Holland, and she now found herself in a new setting that wasn’t unfamiliar. Parking the car and stepping out she closed the door and couldn’t help but feel the excitement as her eyes sparkled with anticipation. It was Wednesday and they were halfway through the week. Emily and Joyce were as close and social as they always were come after working hours, but Joyce had been cunningly quiet about these errands she’d been running. Each and every box that would arrive at the apartment she was sure to hide away in her storage room and keep locked away. She never figured Emily to go snooping, because she likely had nothing to be suspicious of, but Joyce was still determined to keep things hush-hush. Emily knew Joyce would be returning to this stop at some point, but she didn’t know when… The bell’s ring filled the room when Joyce walked inside, and could see her friend dealing with a different client at the moment. In the middle of their conversation at the front desk, Joyce could see her eyes shift from the person she was talking to her for just a moment and then back. “It was good seeing you, Michael. I hope the suit works out well for your party!” Amy waved as the man with his new set of clothing politely excused himself from the store. Until the opening and closing door finally came to a rest, Joyce and Amy eyed each other wildly in an impatient manner. “Oh! Joyce!” Amy started to happily shout once it was just the two of them. “My head was just, bursting with ideas ever since you and Emily left on Sunday!” The limited capacity for imagination in her vocabulary showed as she bustled about, possibly forgetting the pen she had positioned behind her ear. “I’ve rarely ever done something like this before and to revisit these kinds of designs was so much fun!” Joyce couldn’t muster a word when her hands were suddenly joined to Amy’s. “Please tell me you want to make more outfits for her!” Joyce, taken aback, blinked her eyes in simple shock. She’d never seen Amy be so forward with a simple order like this; so expressive over almost anything. Sure it wasn’t run-of-the-mill, but Joyce didn’t know business like this could have such a secondhand effect on her! “I take it you had fun making them?” Joyce asked, thinking outside a few moments earlier that she was the one who was excited. How wrong she was. “Definitely! Now, come, come! You didn’t come all this way to hear me boast, did you?” Amy hurriedly ushered Joyce into the back room where they always did their business. The setting was similar to when they were here a few days ago, only now there were five mannequins lined up sporting...simply adorable clothing! “This is…?” Joyce could feel her joy lagging behind the disbelief in her voice. Taking in the wide array of dynamic and colorful outfits. “Each and every outfit I made was too much fun! Thinking of how I could emphasize this,” she tried to verbalize her masterful creation process. “childish, feeling in each and every small and little detail!” Her emotions were overflowing with excitement, and the only thing she could do to seem from bursting was verbalize it in concentrated doses. Sneaking glances at each and every outfit, all too stunning to take her eyes off of, Joyce wanted to weep tears for her well-placed trust in Amy’s handiwork. They looked perfect! “Let’s go through them one by one,” Amy started her along the end of the line and debuted the first one, which was unmistakably a pink and white striped onesie. “I wanted to go for a material that didn’t feel thin, but was soft and can stretch pretty well,” Amy explained. “There’s an additional lining on the inside, but this way she’ll feel nice and soft on the outside.” Joyce was already gushing just from trying to imagine Emily in it, whilst she toddled and moved around the apartment. It would make their playtime into a reality, and there’d be no mistaking what role Emmy was in. It looked authentic because it was. It was beautiful! There was a splayed out collar to it, interestingly enough, which Joyce made an observation of. There wasn’t anything wrong with it and in fact somehow made it even more adorable. Each and every stitch looked as if it were imbued with the sole task of emphasizing the child within whoever wore it. Her eyes were sparkling as the fantasies played in her mind like a movie projector. “The shoulders are also fitted to be pretty close to her arm size, so they won’t look baggy,” Amy tugged at the mentioned area. “As for the legs openings I rounded the edge off in with something a bit more durable. There won’t be any chafing and it’s actually a little squishy if you feel through the fabric, but it’ll hug her thighs well.” Joyce gave it a test squeeze and confirmed Amy’s words; imagining just how content Emily would feel in these. What caught her attention next were the white pouches, one sewn on each side at the waist level. They were just large enough to maybe fit a hand in each of them. “Are these pockets?” Joyce curiously asked. She had no objections to them but they were completely white unlike the rest of the design. “Mhm! I figured Emily might want to have some way of holding on to a few things. Not much of course, since that’s your job,” Amy playfully jabbed, forgetting the restricted composure she had the last time they met, causing Joyce to blush when her face was out of sight, still smiling. “And at the same time she might just want somewhere to put her hands. So, do you like it so far?” “It’s amazing.” Joyce could barely put the words together from how only one of three different outfit styles left her already star-struck. “Good, I’m glad.” Amy was always happy to see the joy of her works rub off on someone else. “But I know you’re still probably wondering how you’re supposed to get this on and off of her. Well look no further and take a look at the back!” Finishing her mini speech, Amy spun the mannequin on its pivot to reveal the backside, which had four medium-sized white buttons arranged on the back, holding the flap in place. “I made sure to leave some room in there beyond your normal panties, and the stretch factor should account for anything that might get larger. Emily shouldn’t ever feel uncomfortable when she lies on her back, which is why I went with the smaller buttons, but if she’s on a hard surface like tiles or wood you might hear some scraping.” Amy warned. “Snaps would have been rounded off on the end to better combat this, but the buttons offer much better support.” Amy demonstrated as she stretched open the slits and pulled them out from behind the buttons, whilst Joyce watched with fascination. Eventually she’d be doing the same thing, only for Emily. “So, any questions, comments, or complaints so far? If anything I’d like to get Emily to try some of these on before they leave the shop...But I understand they’re a gift.” The perfectionist inside of her was starting to show. “They’re fitted exactly to my numbers, but a tiny margin of error can always be pesky like that. She should be fine though.” “No, this is perfect! You’ve done more than you needed to and the results are stunning! Are these all ready to take home?” “Yep! I worked through day and night to see all these finished,” She sighed as the slight bags under her eyes became clear now. “But it was worth it,” She smiled. “It was a rush order, after all. And I couldn’t just let these things sit. I was just too driven to make them! I have a lot of excess ideas; some stuff tamer than others...It all went in my sketchbook though. There’ll be time for that some other day. But come on, there’s still four more outfits to show you!” Joyce had already been getting ahead of the fashion show by looking in advance at the green alteration. It was identical in every way except for the button stitching and pink factor, which had been swapped with a mint green. Here Joyce had no complaints at all either, but it was the next double set that things started to look different. “And these,” The two walked over to stand right in front of them. “Are her sleepers!” Rather than stopping at just the upper half of the body, the sleeper occupied its entirety. Amy had stuck to a similar color scheme to match the duo, as Joyce stared at the light pink adult-sized sleeper that stopped itself at the hands, feet, and crept slightly up the neck. On all the ends their material cuffed as it hugged the wrists and just above the ankles on the end, allowing for a slight bit more freedom on the inside. It wasn’t baggy though, as at the waist the sleeper seemed to hug nicely around the mannequin’s curve and provide structural integrity. Joyce could also notice that at the legs it didn’t look like a V-shape but seemed a bit more of an outward curve as if it supported some more ‘pronounced’ underwear. “I designed it to hug just all the right parts. I even kept in mind that she might not be wearing panties in this, like all her outfits, so I gave her a little extra space in the crotch area so the ‘V’ at the legs wouldn’t press into her.” Joyce couldn’t be thankful enough to have a seamstress as attentive as Amy, and would be sure to tip her on top of her already paid efforts. She knew all the areas to focus on and never cut corners in her craft. She wasn’t cheap, but she was well worth the money. Never once had Joyce gone wrong through Amy, and this time was no different either. Directly down the middle Joyce could see a zipper track buried behind the slightly bunched fabric to hide the seam. A fat plastic white zipper hung symmetrically though, emphasizing the most infantile aspects about the outfit in all the right ways. “Not much else to say about this one, other than how I kept it thin and made sure the material was breathable. I remember you saying she didn’t want to be too stuffy, but I made sure it didn’t feel like she was wearing a bag either.” Once again Amy was always tactful in her approach and left no stone unturned. Which is why Joyce was even more delightfully surprised with the next mention. “And, I remember we had talked about it which I think was my personal favorite touch to this outfit,” Amy had flared the neck up a little, showing that there were snap inserts lined along the sides and the back of the neck. No, she couldn’t have! “Ta-daa!” Amy cheered as she produced an attachment from behind the mannequin. Holding it out so Joyce could see better, it was an attachable hood that matched the sleepers color, minus a dark pink line that ran just along the edge. But most importantly, and most adorably, it donned an irresistibly cute pair of large cat ears on them! Amy had listened! Joyce almost forgot about them completely! Amy couldn’t hide her excitement either as she gave a toothy smile, already snapping it into place. She then draped it over the model’s head and gave Joyce a good look. Joyce was starting to feel antsy, almost wishing she postponed the pick-up date until the weekend. How was she supposed to wait this long knowing she had such an adorable wardrobe for Emily? Curse Amy! She had done far too well for her own good. It was going to be torturous trying to keep these things under wraps. She had half a mind to beg Emily to try these on immediately when she got home! But she wouldn’t, of course. That’d spoil everything. “And the next sleeper is exactly the same, with its own special hood,” Amy gestured to the next one over, which was the same mint green as the onesie but without the stripes. “But the alteration you wanted is this one.” It was clear just from looking at it what Amy was referring to. The zipper seam that was on the front of the pink sleeper was nowhere to be seen on this one, and was in fact on the back. Turning the display, the zipper was on the back and ran up to the neck as well, but the zipper was buried away within an insert Amy used two fingers to fish out. “I was thinking of how to restrict the wearer from being able to take it off very easily, and I didn’t think you’d want a lock on here. Those things can be a bit dicey….” Amy started having flashbacks from previous clientele. “So I took a much more softcore approach. There’s a small space in between the fabric the zipper fits in, and anyone who has full use of their arms, AKA not the wearer, the zipper only takes a couple fingers to get out. But if you’re in the sleeper then good luck. It’s one thing to bend your arms but another to move your fingers, and especially so far in.” This had Joyce imagining countless scenarios as well; encouraging that feeling of dependency in Emily, and helping her learn to rely on others more. So many key items were essential to reinforcing this feeling of infancy Joyce wanted to convey and foster so desperately, and she already knew Emily might get a little excited by these outfits too. “And the next and final outfit, is her play dress! I’d have to say this is probably my favorite...” Joyce couldn’t help but agree with her, taking in the stunning sight. Like denim, it was a dark blue dress with shoulder straps that were topped on the edge with fat, white buttons, sewn on with a thick, light yellow thread that accented the custom-made yellow shirt underneath. The dress fanned out into a skirt that only stopped a little halfway past the thigh, meaning a twirl or gust of wind would put what’s beneath on full display. Joyce’s favorite addition she could see though was the obvious front pocket sewn on the stomach; large enough to stick both hands in. Large, thick stitches ran along the outside of it, obviously intended to be noticed, including the large pink paw embroidered on the front of the pocket, simplified with three small circles along the edge of a much larger one to signify the palm. “Because the material is so sturdy it can take some punishment if she likes to be energetic, and that shirt underneath actually functions more like a onesie. Take a look.” Curiously, Joyce lifted the front of the skirt to see the yellow shirt extending below and wrapping around the crotch, connected by three white snaps below. She then also took note of the material lining inside the skirt, glad to see Amy had made sure it would at least feel comfy for Emily when she wore it. “Amy...” Joyce found herself hugging the longtime companion, who brought her tears of joy to no end. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done! You don’t know how much this means to me.” “I’m glad I was the one you came to for this,” Amy returned the hug. “Like I said, orders like this don’t come very often. It’s been a while since I could work on clothes as cute as this. Do you think Emily could be brought in for a fitting next time? I honestly would like to see how they fit…” Emily was the target audience in mind when she designed these clothes after all. While she knew herself the creations were cute, they’d look even better if she could see them on someone in the flesh. “I’ll see if I can warm Emily up to it. I can’t make any promises though...” Joyce did want to share Emily’s debut with the very person who made it all possible, but respecting Emily’s privacy came first. Once she saw these clothes though, it wouldn’t take long to connect the dots and learn Amy helped collaborate to make these clothes. Then the secret would indirectly be out. But Emily would probably be okay with it, once she explained Amy’s stance. “I suppose I’ll have to let it go with that.” Amy partly spoke in a glum voice. “But! I made a few small additions to all of them, that I think you’ll appreciate.” Bringing Joyce up to each and every one of the neck holes, not only could she see a loop to hang on a hook if need be, but there was a tiny label on the inside of each of them with Emily’s name etched in thread along all five outfits. “Now we know who they belong to!” Amy joked, resulting in profuse thanks of gratitude from Joyce. “But if you’ll notice with the other four,” Amy motioned to the onesies and sleepers. “That same signature mark is on all of them.” Bringing Joyce around to the back of all of them, right where the left buttcheek would be on its wearer there was that same four circle paw like on the pocket of the dress. Only now did Joyce start to associate it with a cat’s paw. Amy had really gone in on the tiny unifying theme, and Joyce could only find the entire set that much more exquisite. It almost reminded her of the mark Amy put on all of her clothes… Amy’s craft was like that of an artist, and she always liked to hide a personal mark for her long-term clients as a sign to prove it as her work and to be part of a collection. Amy’s personal signature for Joyce was a series of three small circles or dots, cleverly hidden somewhere in the interior. But for Emily’s set she’d taken a much more bold approach and proudly displayed them somewhere on the front. It was cute, and fitting in a way. These clothes were meant for a person who was completely dependent on another and only knew how to be happy, play, and sleep. They only knew how to be the most adorable baby they could possibly be. So to take such a contrast and print her signature on the outside of Emily’s baby clothes, it reflected a sentiment that Emily could come out of her shell and be herself when she wore these. As it should be. “All of these are safe to wash, but it goes without saying they’re going to be at their best if you get them professionally done,” Amy advised. “That won’t be an issue,” Joyce said dismissively. “I’ll just send them off with the rest of my outfits whenever I get the cleaning service.” Again, it was a no questions type of deal where they simply took your clothes and washed them. Nothing need be talked about or mentioned. Before the two had gone their separate ways, they made sure to leave time for coffee first, setting themselves up at the couch where they had a splendid view of Emily’s new infant wardrobe. Assuming everything moved along smoothly, this certainly would not be the last time Joyce had Amy make clothes for Emily. She was simply too talented not to do business with. Seeing how spectacularly well she pulled off these designs, it would only pronounce the simpler things and draw she and Emily that much more closer to the more genuine acts. Grabbing five individual boxes, Amy slipped off the covers of each one and carefully folded and placed them in the boxes, putting the covers back on. To ensure not even the slightest mishap occurred, Amy even tied each in a ribbon and helped Joyce load them into the trunk of her car, and they both gave each other a final hug before Joyce departed. Back on the road, she sighed longingly as the fashion show came to an end, and it would be a long and excruciatingly painful wait until these ever saw the light of day again. All in due time, though. All in due time. She missed riding in the backseat with Emily already. Charles was busy now with driving Emily; not that Joyce minded, but she still wanted the girl’s company. Joyce couldn’t help but sneak a little peak on the surveillance, watching as the girl lounged on the couch like it was nobody’s business. Content with the sight and respecting of Emily, she quickly closed the display and turned on the ignition. The lonely car ride home was boring, but she occupied herself with formulating a plan to sneak the clothes in the back room without Emily noticing...