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A Done Deal Another upsetting night’s sleep – my duvet was bunched up and looked like I’d had a fight with it, the fleecy throw was caught up in some kind of jumble with my pillows and worst of all, my nappy, as it had been for the past few weeks, was soaked. A few months ago a nightmare scenario started where I was either being chased or attacked by something which I couldn’t identify but found incredibly scary. I’d fought this unknown monster, I’d done battle with an unseen force and when, after the second encounter and second soaked bed, my mother (step-mother) had demanded I wore protection until the phase (as she called it) was over, I didn’t like it. I shouted and screamed my absolute refusal, which didn’t go down well as I’d got to the stage (being fifteen) of arguing with every decision she made. That was until dad (Howard) came and ‘had a word’, which has seen me resentfully wearing a thick terry cotton nappy to bed every night since. Dad is a practical man, an intense man; he’s also a very important and busy man and has little time for ‘stupidity’. He listened to all my arguments as to why I shouldn’t wear a nappy and then slowly, but methodically, disassembled each one of my points as either being unreasonable, selfish or simply illogical. He pointed out a nappy was what I needed and so that’s what I would wear. No ifs, no buts, it was all a ‘done deal’, that mother was right and I should “just get on with it”. + My real mum had died when I was barely two years old so I don’t remember her too well but dad had remarried when I was five. He’d actually been seeing Diane for a year before he introduced us and was told that I was getting a new mummy... and new baby brother. She moved in, they married and I now share a house with my step-family of Diane, Richard, who’s nine, William who’s seven and now, eight month old twins, Jane and Alfie. My father is a good man, he’s a pathologist at a lab in the city and we’re close and although Diane is a nice lady, as I’ve gotten older, for some reason I’ve grown to resent her and my brothers and sister. I suppose, because I’m the eldest, it’s fallen to me to look out for my siblings but now I’ve had enough of baby-sitting and being, what I feel is, a general dogsbody. Dad keeps telling me it’s what I get an allowance for but I feel I do more than my fair share of... well... everything. Which I suppose is what has led me to arguing all the time because mum is always at home now with the twins so I’m expected, because dad is out at work all day and has late hours to make extra money to keep a roof over his family, to ‘step up more’. Bloody hell... I do enough around the house I barely get a moment to myself. I rarely get chance to go out because of school work and the family. My mates don’t come around any more because of the constant demand for attention from everyone. “Jason can you do this?” “Jason, can you do that?” “Jason can you do the other?” “It will only take a minute” It never does and once started there’s always something else... it never bloody ends. “While you’re there can you...” The house is a mess and all about the twins; the smell of pee and powder and if the weather’s bad clothes and washed nappies drying on radiators. Constantly being told to be ‘quiet’ because they’re sleeping and because she is always involved with them, I’m supposed to keep my two younger brothers occupied to make sure they do their homework (projects) which I also have by the way. If they need to be at football practice or some after-school activity, it’s me that has to chaperone them. The list never ends and so I don’t get much time to myself. I resent everything and everybody. + Before the nightmares began, and I suppose it linked in to when the twins arrived, I’d begun to have little accidents. What I mean is that occasionally I’d pee in my undies, not enough to cause too much trouble, like stains on my trousers or jeans, but enough for me to know I’d better change my briefs pretty soon. I kept these little accidents secret and was able to deal with the wet undies myself. However, something else seemed to be bothering me and I didn’t know why. I know that with the announcement that twins were on the way, dad, and mum to a certain extent, went into panic mode and I suppose, because I’m the eldest I noticed more than my brothers. I’m of the opinion that the twins were an accident: certainly from just how fraught the house has been since their arrival. Dad already was overloaded with work and now, with extra family to feed and clothe his life/work load is immense. I’m not sure if some of his obvious anxiety has rubbed off on me. We used to be quite a happy little bunch and dad had time for us all. Diane, was also pleasant to be around but now she just gives the impression of being constantly worn out and complains she doesn’t have the time to ‘pretty herself up’ for dad or for them to go out occasionally. As a result her attention has turned to me as the eldest to ‘help out’ but I already did that but since the twins my workload has escalated and I rarely see anyone except at school. It’s as if she’s decided that if she isn’t going to have fun and do what she wants then neither is anyone else. However, somehow with the twins came a number of new friends, mothers all, who pop around and tell Diane what a wonderful job she’s doing, what a hero she is looking after such a diverse family and that it’s quite right to expect me to step up. She’s been encouraged to be ‘the queen bee’ and we’re all there for her pleasure. Well that’s how it seems from the comments I get when they’re all around sipping tea (or sometimes a glass of wine) and complaining about their own lives and how easy men have it. Of course they often bring their kids around and so there’ll be a couple of screaming babies or tots seemingly having a breakdown. + I’m not sure if I could blame the twins on my initial wet pants but I ask myself if all this extra responsibility is the reason I’m seriously wetting at night and have to wear a nappy to keep from nightly flooding the bed. I’m fifteen so of course shouldn’t be wearing a nappy any time, which means I’m constantly in a bad mood. This is not helped by my step mum also being in a very ‘fragile’ mood, when it comes to me. If I’m in a mood, she’s in one. Of course my younger brothers are too young to take on too much responsibility but they get praised for doing the slightest thing and I’m held up to ridicule for complaining about the amount I have to do. As a result my step-mum has it all worked out and it appears I’m there to benefit her decisions. She gets fatigued with the Jane and Alfie, and as dad starts work early, I have to fill in while she’s ‘resting’. As I say, I have to make sure the boys are up and ready for school fully dressed and breakfasted... and have done any homework, which I have to say, at their age is very simple but still it takes up my time and have precious little of it as it is. I’m sick of it but now, because of these unsettling night time activities, which result in my daily soaked nappies, I’m constantly in a state of anxiety. Mum has pulled me up on several occasions about my ‘attitude’ and has decided that I’m just like the twins and need similar treatment. She seems to get a kick out of putting my nappies and plastic pants out on the line next to theirs. It’s embarrassing because it means neighbours know, though suspect, because of my ‘attitude’ towards her, she’s already gleefully told them that she now has to nappy another ‘baby’ in the house. This doesn’t stop my resentment but at least I have my own room where I can occasionally find time and space for myself. However, even that is no longer private as she’ll waft in without so much as a knock and deposit my laundered clothes, and clean nappies, with a flourish and give me a condescending smile as she makes sure I’m aware of the crinkly plastic pants she blatantly puts on the dresser. “Your protection darling,” she announces with a forced grin, “you will let me know if I’ve got yours and the twins nappies mixed up won’t you?” I’ve asked for privacy but she just smiles and whispers that babies who still need their nappies don’t get privacy. Then flounces off leaving me steaming but with nothing I can do about it. At one point I was so angry I told her that I’d go off and live with my grandparents (on my mother’s side) and she just laughed and said that an incontinent teenager is no doubt just what they want in their dotage. He actual words were, “Bugger off then, I’m sure they can’t wait to look after a pants wetting, obnoxious little shit like you.” She’s twelve years younger than dad and has the ability to be as sweet as pie when in public but as vicious as hell if you get on the wrong side of her. Which I have to say has become a great deal more noticeable since the twins arrived. + Dad has quite a liberal, easy-going background where diplomacy, discussion and reason are the way people interact. He has always been there for me and we get on very well. I respect him and listen to what he has to say. I never used to argue with him. Diane on the other hand comes from a family that has a military background, where she and her three brothers were in constant competition for their parent’s approval. They moved a lot from bases around Europe, so were never settled for too long, or there were long passages of time when their father wasn’t around as he’d been posted overseas. I suppose, if there’s conflict and your dad’s involved, that must leave you in a state of nervous anticipation the entire time he’s away. However, in a family of such an abundance of masculinity, the sole daughter had found that by undermining those brothers she often was able to deviously direct action her own way. I’ve never met that side of the family. At the registry office wedding I can only remember dad, her and me, plus the registrar and a couple of witnesses. I gather that because she was pregnant said she didn’t want others to know her ‘condition’ so a big wedding was out of the question. Thinking back, maybe I might be remembering this wrong, but I might have overheard granny telling someone she thought dad had been tricked into marrying her... but I could be wrong. I might have just thought that myself. + Dad had warned me about my attitude towards his wife... I mean... I stopped calling her mum but she wasn’t happy with me calling her Diane so sent dad to have ‘another quiet word’. She insists that Richard and William call her mummy and now when she speaks to me she calls herself ‘mummy’ to me as well. If dad isn’t around I try and fight back but she just tells him when he gets home from work and I’m back in hot water. Then he goes off on one saying he expects me to pull my weight around the house, less back chat, more respect for what she has to do... oh... and act my age. Diane then undermines that by treating me like a little kid. She doesn’t let me forget I still wet the bed so sees me as just a big ungrateful toddler who still needs to wear a nappy. “I wasn’t there when you were a baby,” she gives me that sickly smile, “but there again; it looks like you’re reliving being one. How lucky am I to get to change your soggy nappies?” I seethe with rage but, as she’s holding up my well-soaked morning padding, it’s hard to argue the point. The weird thing is she doesn’t seem that bothered about the wetting because as far as she’s concerned, the bedding is safe now I’m well contained at night. She has said, in one of her less aggressive moments that it’s no trouble washing my nappies as she has the twin’s daily contribution to do anyhow. She makes out she’s a martyr and I’m an ungrateful teen who acts like a toddler going through his ‘terrible twos’. She demoralises me all the time and dad, because he’s so busy and under a load of work-related stress, says “Listen to your mum.” He thinks, because of what Diane has said about me, that I’m just acting out and should be “contributing - not alienating” everyone around me. It doesn’t help that at her insistence either she or dad has to help me with the pins and material to make sure my night time nappy is on correctly, although I suspect it’s more to make sure I wear one to protect the bedding. Yes that’s the other thing, she’s not only convinced dad that I need a nappy but I’m too incompetent to sort it for myself so need supervision. She mentions the extra laundry she had to do when all this first started (‘as if I don’t have enough to do’ she complained to dad) and insisted on not only a waterproof mattress protector but as I’ve said, nappies and plastic pants to act as the best barrier. She convinced dad that I’m too resentful not to try and take it off so she needs to be sure. So, I’m supervised each night to avoid any possible leakage, which in truth they did on a few occasions where I half-heartedly put the nappy on myself. Dad has taken her side in all this (I suppose I can’t blame him too much because I’m fifteen and wetting the bed) and often looks at me as if I’m doing it on purpose... but why would I? + Before all this my bedtime was when I wanted to go, I didn’t have a specified hour but ‘just be sensible’. However, now, because I have to be put in protection she insists I am ready by 8pm (at the latest) because she doesn’t want to be changing me at any time of my choosing. Sometimes, and I’m sure it’s out of spite, she tells me to get ready as soon as I’m in from school as she’s too tired to worry about putting an ‘argumentative teenager’ back in a nappy when it suits him. Dad takes her point and agrees which means often I’m wearing a nappy around the house when I’m still doing chores or worse still, when her friends pop by. I try and escape to the privacy (as if) of my room but that isn’t always possible. I’ve complained that I can’t go out like that but she says that’s up to me. If I want to go out there’s no one stopping me, which is true but how can I go out and meet friends whilst wearing a nappy? My friends haven’t yet abandoned me but I see them so rarely, apart from school, that I might as well be a recluse. As I’ve mentioned, ‘Mum’ on the other hand, has loads of ‘friends’ who also have kids and all seem to congregate at our house. There’s barely a pause in the number of people who are always popping in or ‘just passing’ and of course my nappies are not a secret to any of these visitors. Diane happily discusses my problem as if she’s talking about the twins and though I’ve objected and asked dad to have a word he just tells me to get over it.... “What if they come up with a solution?” and that puts an end to my complaint as far as he’s concerned. So far they haven’t and I don’t anticipate they ever will (find that elusive solution) but it’s an argument I can’t win so the humiliation continues. If I’m in the living room or just passing through she’ll make a comment, or one of her friends will, and, as I say, she always speaks as if I’m a baby, so they do as well. I hate everyone and everything yet still can’t stop this night time flood, which of course makes me even angrier but also makes Diane’s position that much stronger. And if I’m being honest the constant stream of pee seems to be getting worse. + tbc +

Hey everyone! Getting into the thick of the plot now, I hope everyone is ready for what is coming. I plotted a few of the next chapters out a little more thoroughly yesterday instead of editing this one, so apologies for not getting another chapter up, but I think some of the outcomes will be well worth it in the end. 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 10: Seeing Loss Everywhere Times had only grown tougher being around Nancy recently. I tried to make her happy, going as far as to start drawing her dozens of pictures while my magical stuffy, I dubbed Patch, kept me safe in daycare. It was frustrating to go there and then realize that I had lost something after nursing from Nancy, but at home, things were only worse. At daycare, progression was at least the name of the game, but at home, me being more of a Little was the true goal, Nurse Bee only encouraging Nancy the whole time. The two had become nearly inseparable recently and both seemed to delight in figuring out new ways I had broken some arbitrary rule in which they could punish me and attempt to regress me back. Spankings, timeouts, and loss of privileges all were inflicted on me as punishments to try and tweak their formula like a bunch of sadistic scientists torturing a lab rat. While they were effective on one level and I occasionally retreated into myself and didn’t act as mature as I could, I still burned inside to break free of my former prison that was my body. It wasn’t much, but it kept me going. While I continued that struggle at home, daycare had become much more of a minefield lately as far as the staff were concerned at least. Mrs. Gillies seemed frustrated and perplexed about my whole situation while Miss Valerie and Miss Tully were amongst the chief instigators into Nurse Bee’s activities here. Nothing violent or sinister had happened so far, and I hoped it never would, but I just wondered how long it was until I was proven wrong. To me, it seemed more like a certainty rather than a maybe at this point if nothing happened to prevent it. To my shock though, one day after work, Nancy had just brought me home and was starting to work on dinner for the two of us. Pleasant smells wafted to my nose, and I was just glad to be smelling something other than baby powder or other less kindly smells these days. No doubt, knowing Nancy lately, my food would be spiked with something to make me feel even more babyish, such as laxatives or numbing agents, but I still felt content in the smells for now at least. Suddenly, though, there was a knock at the door, soon followed by a heavy pounding. It scared me a bit and I backed up behind a couch in fear of who was there. Nancy, seemingly just as nervous as I was, approached the door carefully and then slowly opened it. On the other side was a clearly panicked Nurse Bee. “Oh? Bee? What are you doing here so late? Did I forget to write something down on my schedule between us or…?” “No,” Nurse Bee responded quickly. “I came over here on my own, but let me in. We need to talk.” Even I could tell the seriousness behind her voice, and so it was no surprise that Nancy let her in. After a moment of Nurse Bee sitting on our couch and Nancy retrieving her a steaming cup of tea, Nancy sat down opposite of her, clearly itching to ask some questions. “I know you have questions, Nancy… Just ask them…” Nancy sighed and, trying to stay out of both their ways and strictly wanting to stay neutral in all this, I came out from behind the couch and just continued to mess around with a simple Princess Poppy doll that Nancy and Nurse Bee had selected out for me. I wasn’t the biggest fan of it, due to what they were trying to get it to represent in my life, but the fangirl in me with the show still appreciated her in my life. Patch, being owned by the daycare and not strictly mine, had to stay there. My own Princess Poppy served as a nice substitute in his absence at home. “Well, what ‘s going on?” Nancy finally asked. “You obviously seem stressed about something, so just talk to me. Maybe I can help? I’m pretty good at advice and…” Nurse Bee shook her head strongly. “No, no. It isn’t that, Nancy. It’s just that… well, I think I could be in trouble here. There’s a lot going on, but there’s something more pressing tonight as well…” Nancy raised an eyebrow to get her friend to continue with what was happening. “I quit my job tonight, Nancy…” There was an eerie silence and I had to clutch onto Princess Poppy extra tight to keep from dropping her in shock. I thought I was done for and doomed in the daycare with the dynamic and loathsome duo of the new Nancy and Nurse Bee. Now, I felt there was hope. Small, perhaps, but still there at least. “What?” Nancy exclaimed, clearly panicking and just as shocked as I was. “What do you mean you quit? Can you even quit that place? I thought you were just interning there or something?” Nurse Bee nodded. “That’s right. I was, but I was also biding my time until something new came up.” She paused and still seemed flustered tonight. “That all changed this morning.” “Oh?” Nancy seemed both happy for her friend and curious about what she was referring to. Nurse Bee nodded. “I really can’t tell you much, but I came up with a special kind of cream. It’s a little… wicked maybe, but I just submitted it to Juventas to test out with a new position in their company that just opened there. Well, and this morning, I just got the call they want me.” I could see the saddened look on Nancy’s face, but it soon turned to at least one of happiness for her friend. “I’m so happy for you, Bee. I really am.” Nurse Bee smiled back. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I think someone might be watching me, but I’m just not sure.” I quickly thought back to Omega Force. “Plus, with all the heat I’ve been getting from Mrs. Gillies and the other staff members after Emma’s incident and then her sudden rebound, I felt that I couldn’t stay there for much longer anyways…” Nancy’s smile persisted, but the rest of her face soon morphed back into one of subtle disappointment. Nurse Bee saw and rubbed her friends back. “It’s going to be okay though for you two. I know you probably think I’m abandoning you right when you need me most with Emma but let me get something from my car and I’ll be right back. I think it’s going to help you a lot.” In her own little sad state tonight, Nancy nodded and let Nurse Bee leave the house to get something from her car. Nancy paced back and forth anxiously for a while, but finally, we both heard the locking of her car from the outside before Nurse Bee walked back in… but she wasn’t empty handed. “What’s that?” Nancy immediately questioned, looking right at the large crate now in her friend’s hands. It seemed old fashioned, almost handmade even, but I saw a few letters on the side. I had recently discovered my ability to at least identify letters again. Spelling them out was next to impossible beyond some of the more basic, like dog or cat, but I was still making progress. The word on the side though, was anything but simple. So, I decided to spell it out first and then maybe just try and figure it out later. ‘T-A-N-A-S-S-U-M.’ Nurse Bee smiled and set the box down in front of Nancy. “Well, I won’t tell you everything, but when you open it up, it’s got a few surprise bits that should help continue the progress we’ve already made together.” Nancy still seemed crestfallen, and likely seeing it, Nurse Bee sighed. “Look, I’m very sorry, Nancy. I just think things are going to get massively complicated around here very soon if I continue to stay. In fact, my presence might actually hurt you if I’m even remotely correct, so I need to leave for your safety and well-being at minimum,” she explained. “Can you understand that at least?” Nancy still seemed sad over her friend’s departure but still nodded. “It’s tough, but I get that. You’re just trying to protect me…” Nurse Bee nodded back and the two reached and hugged each other. I was still surprised over how quickly they had become friends, but there was a little part of me that still secretly suspected that they were friends for more than just their connection over me. After a moment though, the two disconnected and Nancy wiped a tear away. “I guess this is goodbye then.” Nurse Bee seemed regretful over that notion, but still nodded her head. “It is. At this point, I have to go soon to make it to Losantiville to start work at Juventas immediately, but I’ll be okay.” Nancy seemed happy over that part at least. “Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?” Nurse Bee almost didn’t seem hopeful, but ultimately smiled and placed her hand reassuringly on Nancy’s shoulder. “Of course we will, Nancy. Remember our pact?” Nancy quickly nodded. “Good. If you promise to hold on to that and stay strong, I will too. Got it?” Nancy smiled and then clasped hands, and both shook on their renewed promise together, whatever that was. “Got it. Good luck, Bee.” Nurse Bee gave Nancy one more hug and headed for the door. “You do the same, Nancy. Just remember though, if you ever get in a bind, you can always get ahold of me. If our contingency plan ever comes to it, I know one of the scenarios is a little scary, but we’ll always be there for each other. Just remember that…” her eyes darted to the crate on the couch still. “But also, just remember to open that crate if you ever feel the need. It should be enough for what you really want.” The two hugged it out one more time and Nancy even left the house for a moment to see her off personally. Soon though, I could hear the revving of a car engine outside. Not long after, a still saddened Nancy walked back in and first looked at me and then at the crate. “I guess I better just store this upstairs, huh?” And so, things went uneventfully for the most part at least for a while after that. Nurse Bee still wasn’t replaced in daycare, but Mrs. Gillies just got a local nurse to come out and assist when needed beyond the basic first aid that every staff member was apparently required to know to work there. Still, despite that single shuffle up, things remained mostly the same in my life… including the ‘Tanassum’ box. It lay in my room where Nancy had placed it that first night and while I would occasionally see her stare at it longingly, she never opened it up to see what was inside. Like some sleeping demon waiting at the foot of my bed, it waited. I even had a few nightmares about it, but I just pushed through and hoped things would finally somewhat settle back to normal. Unfortunately for Nancy’s new stance about me, without Nurse Bee pushing her on, her efforts to keep me mentally younger were met with another force at daycare that saw me achieve tremendous strides. Now, I was even running on occasion and finding interest and the ability to actually have fun with some of my old activities there. My colorings after class became more articulate and colorful and I was nearly even able to read, hence why I could read the word ‘Tanassum’ now. If it wasn’t for Nancy’s surely attitude when I came home most nights, I would have almost been happy with my current lot in life. Not perfect, mind you, but certainly better than it had been when Nurse Bee was around. So, things kind of just bubbled along in my life, but all that came crashing down one day when Nancy and I decided to visit the park one Saturday afternoon. The gorgeous summer weather was in full bloom, and though I was seemingly always thirsty, and my diaper was a royal squelching pain half the time in the humid heat, I did enjoy the sunshine and the warmth it provided on my skin. Today, I was visiting with my friends from the daycare while playing in one of the larger sandboxes here near to the playground and open grassy fields. While I was mulling about in my denim skirtalls, complete with a large sunflower on the front of them, Nancy was nearby and occasionally looked up from her book right at me. Her transformation into a new Big woman was nothing short of terrifying and concerning for my future well-being. Now, while I think dressing nicely is wonderful, it didn’t take a genius around here to understand that there are a few types of maternal caregivers around her based on how one looked. There were male ones as well, but I guess after some virus or something like that, they were few and far between, especially on a single level. Regardless, while back on Earth clothing could symbolize anything, here for the carers, one’s clothing almost became a uniform of sorts to denote what type of carer you were. For Nancy, she used to fit into more of the carer category. Nicely dressed, but also seemingly ready to pitch in to help their Little out or play with them whenever. If their makeup smeared or their clothes got dirty for whatever reason, one cleaning cloth later, and they would be back out to do it all over again. Function was typically more important than fashion for them. Now, however, Nancy was now migrating cleanly into the other category… one that tended to sway more towards the pro-Big movement. See, the more fashionable carers were always more concerned with their looks. While there were some exceptions for this category, Littles seemed more like an accessory than a helpless individual to most of them. Additionally, any perceived flaw in their appearance was always met with scorn, so most became a little more hands-off. In truth, I wouldn’t have even been a little surprised if I suddenly found myself with a nanny one of the days. Seeing Nancy’s tall black heels and tight purple short dress combine with her regally done hair and flawless makeup, she now sadly blended right in with the other more fashionable type of carers. “Taller, Emma! Taller!” Lilly commanded me, knocking me out of my own thoughts. Now, ever since I had rejoined the Meadows room and my friends, Lilly had taken on the eldest role in the group. It was a little annoying at some points, but her bossiness was nicely coupled with her genuine warmth and protective spirit… unlike someone like Nancy lately. I rapidly nodded my head and got Anna to help me as well. Since Nurse Bee had left, Anna now seemed like the youngest of the group. It really didn’t matter to either of us, but sometimes I would help her and sometimes she would help me. With sand structures, I usually ended up helping her. “Dank you, Emma,” she said back cheerily to me as we both poured more sand into our buckets to dump on the already impressive looking tower. I smiled back. “Youw we’come, Anna…” I said back, marveling over my newly improved speech. Ever since Omega Force, I was bounding forth in so many ways. My speech had vastly improved over the past few days and instead of being jealous, Anna just celebrated with me. Just as we piled another bucket onto our tower, a ball came hurtling through the air. Someone screamed “Watch out!” but it was too late. The big red rubber ball smacked right into the structure and like some horrific bomb going off, our once pristine and ever-growing castle was soon totaled. “Hey you!” Lilly shouted back to where the voice of warning and red ball had come from. “Weren’t you ever taught manne…” She immediately stopped though when she turned over to face our assailants but froze in fear. I was instantly curious and spun around myself. Unfortunately, what I saw was basically the worst type of assaulters for us Littles: Big children. Now, while Big children and babies were more our size, hence why the Bigs treated us how they did, the Big children were taught from an early age that they were superior to all Littles from the more pro-Big movement type Bigs. It made a certain amount of sense in a terrible, been-here-too-long kind of way, but acceptance like that was just life in this society for any Little. Big children would often, even if they seemed mentally younger than any of us, command and belittle any Littles they came across. Pranks and bullying were common sights from toddler Bigs even to even the most mature of Littles. So now, my friends and I could only gawk in terror as a group of the Big children approached us. It didn’t take me long to spot the bulges in each of their pants, clearly marking them as the younger variety of Big children, but I still braced for the assault I knew would soon follow. As a vulnerable Little with an evolving pro-Big support caregiver, I knew I had to be extra cautious around them. Whatever the truth, I felt certain she would always take their side if it came down to it. “Hey there,” the blonde, a sandy-haired a dimpled Big child said from the front of their group. “Hey,” was about all even Lilly could muster out. From her eyes, I could see the intense amount of fear even the steadfast and more mature Little had right then. He smirked back. “Name’s Dillan. Sorry about your castle, but, uh… like, can we have our ball back?” Lilly now even seemed to be rendered mute, but I could see a spark of kindness in Dillan I often didn’t see in Big children. Feeling on top of the world and eager to get out of the cage I once found myself in, I spoke up instead. “Here ya go!” I then lobbed the ball right over to Dillan’s hands. Despite me being a Little, each of them seemed both impressed and shocked. Dillan was all those things as well, but I could almost see the gears in his head clicking around. “That was… that was a very impressive shot. You ever play ball before?” he asked plainly with a tiny smirk painted over his lips now. I felt it all could be a trap for a Little like me. It wouldn’t be the first time by a long shot after all, but I just felt a sense of truth with his plain-spoken words. So, I nodded. “Yep! Back on Eawth, buh… nah wha’ you awl aw pwayin’ I dink…” Dillan’s group all seemed a little horror-stricken over that notion, but Dillan just kept smiling. “That’s okay. My friends and I picked up pretty quick and we can give you a shot if you want.” I smiled and quickly arose to join him for a little fun. Lilly had other plans though and yanked me back down and whispered angrily to me. “Just what do you think you’re doin’? Don’t’ you know what’s happenin’ with Big children?” I nodded. “I do, buh’ come on. He’s offerin’ an’ I’m goin’.” I could see Lilly wanted to hold me back and was genuinely just looking out for me, but I knew she couldn’t stop me today. So, giving her a little smile, I patted her hand and then soon joined in with Dillan and his friends. Despite my newly reacquired abilities, I was still a Little inside and out. I had the signs all over me, and my speech impediment wasn’t working in my favor. So, it was just inevitable when some of the other Big children on the other team began calling me names. “Hey diaper butt!” Ooh! Did someone go potty yet?” “Baby! Baby!” The names and insults thrown my way weren’t sophisticated and it felt so strange being insulted by a bunch of at least mostly diapered Big children, but that also just made it feel worse. Still, I persisted and once I scored a few goals in the park that day, those insults either turned into silence or even cheers. It was amazing, but I knew I was tempting fate. Lilly would have been right about all of them normally and I could have found myself in a world of hurt, but I also had something I needed to show myself and experience again. I just wanted to feel normal. The diaper hurt that image a bit, but I still ran and felt the wind go through my hair with delight. An hour later, diapers were bulging and soaked, and some had even leaked, but our team had gone on to victory. I was praised by everyone on my team, and I was even now known excitedly as their ‘secret weapon.’ I hadn’t felt this good in a long time, but just as we were making plans to meet next Saturday, I saw a smoldering Nancy on the hill nearby and I knew my luck had run out. Her face was all red and her arms were crossed. I readied myself for the spanking I knew would come tonight, so I just took in the tiny moment of triumph while I still could. I then turned back to Dillan. “Tanks fo’ invitin’ me, Dillan. I gotta go, buh’ it was weally nice.” Dillan smiled. “You’re very welcome, Emma. Be sure to come back anytime. You’ll always have a place on our team here.” I smiled back at him, and we both waved goodbye to each other. I wore that smile with a badge of honor, even when I rejoined the impatient and clearly furious Nancy. I wanted to explain everything to her. I was a good girl, and I hadn’t broken any of her recently implemented numerous rules today, so I thought that just maybe, I could wiggle out of this still. “I…” “Not. Another. Word,” Nancy said plainly but angrily, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists tightly as she did. I could only gulp and wave goodbye to Anna and Lilly who were being looked at by their own caregivers now as well. The big difference with them and my own current situation though was that they were getting fed snacks and being tickled. Possibly a little humiliating as I could just see them start to get their diapers changed on a park bench side by side after, but knowing what likely awaited me at home, I would have taken humiliation over punishment any day of the week. Both could only wave sorrowfully as I was soon buckled into the car and then as Nancy sped off back home. From my stories in daycare, they knew what awaited me. Getting inside our house later, Nancy was silent and dropped my diaper bag in front of the entry way once she had slammed it shut. I tried to plead with her one more time. “No,” she said with an authority and finality that I knew by now not to question or protest. “Upstairs. Now.” Her words were so monotone and cold. There was no sign of feelings or even love. I practically shook the whole time as I trudged into my nursery at the top of the stairs. Further, I even knew to collect the paddle that Nancy had permanently stored in here for a while now. I had named it ‘big sting.’ Nancy thought it was cute, but she now used that name in horrifyingly new ways. Right as I bent over to collect it from underneath my changing table, I felt an immediate smack to my left thigh. It felt like a thousand tiny bee stings and surprised and a little hurt, I spun around and saw Nancy glaring at me with venom in her eyes. I knew I was screwed, but there was a part of me that burned to know why today. “Why you doin’ dis, Nancy? Why?” Nancy’s eyes narrowed and I could almost feel the heat of her angry ripple off her and onto my skin. “Why? Why?” I nodded, knowing full well that a response then of any kind was usually better than nothing. “You were hanging out with older kids, Emma. That’s the problem. You’re just a Little and they were Bigs. You could have gotten hurt or even abused by them. I forbid you from ever seeing them again.” I felt I was already getting the punishment of my life, so I knew what to do by now, but I also wanted to push the envelope just a little bit to try and change her mind about them. Having such a fun day, I didn’t want to accept her ruling over me never seeing them again. “I’m sowwy, Nancy, buh’ dey nah oldah. Dey woe diapuhs… an’ I felt safe… We even won!” Nancy furiously snatched ‘big sting’ out of my hands and quickly popped me on the butt. It didn’t sting this time, but I also knew that it was more for shock value than anything else. “That’s not the point, Emma. I said they’re too old, so they’re too old. Got that?” I should have nodded, but even with all my lessons in how to be a good Little, I had started gaining some of my independent streak back. Unfortunately, it picked right then to rear itself. “Buh’ dey was fine! Iss notta big deal. Dey just babies, wigh? How’s dat wong?” Her fists cracked under her refreshed rage. I was clearly incorrect, and I winced over what I knew was likely coming next. “That’s not the point!” Nancy shot back. She loomed heavily over me and as if to protect myself somehow, I could almost feel my body shrinking as much as possible. “I’m a Big and your caregiver. Whatever I say goes. My word is law, and you will respect that. Do you understand me?” I did, but I just couldn’t let things go. Some things I could tolerate because I didn’t like them, but I also knew they were for my benefit by now. Car seats, highchairs, my diapers, and so many other things were just necessary for Nancy’s ease or to prevent my embarrassment or keep me safe. They were simple to accept if one moved beyond their pure embarrassing symbology, but today wasn’t. I didn’t feel in the wrong today. I played with some friends who could have been a disaster for me but turned out just fine in the end… liberating even. Any normal caregiver who cared in the slightest for their charge could have seen that, and I just couldn’t let that type of notion go. “Iss not faiw! You didn’ use to be dis way… sometimes… I wish I jus’ stayed with Mrs. Tatum…” I said glumly. My words struck true and deep, and I could see them wound Nancy just about as hard as they could. I didn’t want to, but what I said, needed to be said. Nancy was becoming an issue for well-being on multiple levels lately, and I genuinely feared what lay in store for me if I didn’t make a stand at some point. Unfortunately, with my striking words, Nancy’s resolve only seemed to double after a moment. Her saddened face soon changed and morphed into one of pure anger. I was filled instantly with regret, and I barely had time to register anything other than fear as she launched right toward me and started smacking my rear with all her might with ‘big sting.’ It didn’t take long before I was wailing at the top of my lungs. I was thoroughly protected and due to the mush that I had deposited earlier in the rear of my diaper, Nancy hadn’t removed it yet. Each smack echoed off the walls and if it wasn’t for Nancy’s other hand on my shoulder holding me firmly in place, I would have run or at least been hopping in place in tremendous pain. Each strike swatted straight and true and I could feel my mess now suddenly splat against my butt. It was horrible, but what made it truly awful was when Nancy would sometimes aim a little lower and hit my thighs instead. Stinging sensations rippled throughout my lower half, and I lost count of how my spanks I received after 30, but that also wasn’t even halfway through today’s punishment. So, once she stopped, I felt defeated and was a slobbering, blubbering mess. I tried to regain my composure, but each effort just ended in more failure. For her part, Nancy even seemed tired afterward but instead, to my horror, instead of apologizing like she usually did once she was done with my punishment, her eyes scrambled over to the box near my closet. ‘Tanassum’ stood prominently, and my heart sank as I realized that all my worrying was about to become a reality and that whatever was inside was finally going to hit me today. In seconds, she practically ran over to the crate and ripped off the top before peering inside. “Oh wow… you shouldn’t have, Bee…” Her voice almost seemed full of longing and my curiosity of what was inside was poignant but also didn’t last long. “Hmmm… the lighthouse…” Nancy said, holding up a blueish-white cylindrical object that looked very much like its namesake. I’m not sure why, but it instantly filled me with both a deep seeded fear and luxurious calm. As she read the label attached and then looked down into the crate, Nancy almost seemed like a kid on their birthday opening all their presents. Getting a tissue from nearby to at least help with some of my tears, I could only terrifyingly watch as Nancy pulled on a single shot and a tiny vial of some liquid. “Perfect,” she mused looking at the two objects. Frighteningly, she then looked over in my direction and smiled. “Emma, baby. I’ve got something for you… Come here now, or you’ll start tomorrow with a whole series of punishments.” Obediently, and my rear still dirty and stinging, I quickly ran over to her. In moments, she grabbed my arm and injected me without warning. I winced at the pain I soon felt, but an odd and yet somewhat familiar warmth began to spread through my arm. “There,” Nancy said smiling after a moment. “Looks like Nurse Bee is still helping us after all. Now, you should feel nice and sleepy, Emma. When you wake up, and with any luck, I think things are going to be much different.” With that, she put the shot back in the crate and hoisted me up and into my crib. “I think someone has earned an early bedtime tonight.” I whimpered, though fading fast, and then pointed to the current state of my diaper. I could have said something, but I knew that would only make things worse for me at this point. Nancy took my meaning though and grinned wickedly back at me. “Oh that? That’s a You-Ni-Corn diaper, baby cakes. It can take a beating and should last you until tomorrow morning.” Stunned and horrified, but nearly nodding off already, I could only watch as Nancy walked over to my dresser and placed the lighthouse on top. Soon, it emitted an eerie blue glow over the rest of my room. She then went to my door and flipped off the light, further bathing everything in a soft blue hue. If I wasn’t utterly terrified of something from Nurse Bee, I might have been relaxed at that point. “Good night, honey. Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to need the lighthouse tonight, but let’s just see.” And with that, she left my room. Panicking and wanting to escape more than anything, I felt as the warmth from the shot soon began to flow around my brain. Distressingly, everything started to feel simpler and fuzzier. I had felt this way before, and soon after, I entered the Burrows room. I began to softly cry again as I felt that by tomorrow, Nurse Bee would have played her final trick, and I would be back in the Burrows room once again. I hated Nancy being right lately, and today, I felt everything was going exactly her way. I was starting to feel like I was in a no-win scenario, especially as a massive wet fart soon exploded from my backside. It was all terrible and all catching up with me. I wanted to have the hope that I had felt so keenly as I played with Dillan and his friends today but all that had suddenly changed tonight. I had ultimately lost today and as my eyes drifted closed, I just wondered if this time would be my final loss as a soft noise began to float throughout my room from the lighthouse. As the world faded slowly around me into black though, my thoughts became simpler, and sadly, my future only bleaker.

Sorry I haven't answered questions for a while. I've been distracted with some problems. I'll take a stab at them now! I make it to the toilet and most of my urine goes in there. I still wear a pull up in case of leaks but they're not very much. Ha! And I hope he is aggressive 😄 Omg. That would be insane. LOL Hey there, been healing fine and the good thing is I haven't had blockages that need a catheter for several weeks now. It's a really nice feeling to be totally healed. Of course, that won't last too long now since June 1 is getting closer by the day. But now I know that healing does come and it's not so bad at all. Thank you so much for the well wishes. I appreciate it. Well, maybe some day you can go for the surgery too. I never imagined it originally and now, well, here I am. My best to you for an incontinent future somehow. Thank you, I hope it goes well and I'm very optimistic this time around. We'll see soon enough..

Chapter One Fern stood before the rich mahogany door, hand trembling as she willed herself to move. (I’m just going to look. There’s no harm in looking, right?) She rolled her eyes at herself–there was plenty of harm in looking. If her landlady caught her, Fern might find herself homeless within the hour. She didn’t expect Aurelia to be forgiving of a tenant snooping around her bedroom. Fern had found herself a good place–the shared house was practically a mansion, even if she shared it with three other women, and the rent was comfortably within her price range. She was only a ten minute jog from her new job, and her new housemates were friendly and polite. It would be the height of stupidity to risk all that for mere curiosity, and yet… … Two nights earlier “Ah-AH!” Fern jumped, alarmed by the sound. She hadn’t heard anyone come home, but at some point during her midday nap, someone had come in, and they were…screaming? Heart racing, Fern crept to her bedroom door with quick, silent strides. She was still wearing her scrubs from work, she hadn’t taken them off before crashing into her nap. Her socks on the hardwood floor didn’t make a sound, and she held her breath. Could it be a home invader? She heard a loud SMACK! and a second yelp of pain in a different register. Then a voice, loud, stern, and familiar. “I don’t want to hear it–this is what you get when you don’t listen.” Aurelia’s voice, there was no mistaking it. Fern’s landlady, the matron of the house. As confident as she was rich, Fern had never heard the woman sound uncertain about anything, but now her words carried notes of diamond, hard and unbreakable. “Please, I told Leah we shouldn’t, but,” Carolyn’s voice echoed through the house, muted by several walls but no less distinct. “I just–” SMACK! “You are responsible for your own choices, young lady!” Fern built a mental picture as she crept into the hallway, towards the door on the opposite end of the wing. Aurelia had two nieces, Leah and Carolyn, and they’d done something to upset their aunt, something that had pushed Aurelia to hurt them. (Did I rent a room from a monster?) As the smacks and cries of pain continued, Fern stepped up to the door, crouching, peering through the old-style keyhole. It only offered limited flashes of the room beyond, but she saw enough. Two round, pert butts were pointed towards her, raised in the air, displaying bright pink stripes that criss crossed over light olive skin. Heart pounding her chest, Fern could only watch. … Shaking away the memory, Fern grabbed the handle of the bedroom door and threw it open, unable to fight her curiosity any longer. She half expected to find some array of punishment devices laying around the room, but Aurelia’s bedroom seemed remarkably normal…or, at least, normal for someone with her income. A bed against one wall, a private master bath, plenty of space, a shelf stacked with well-loved books. If Fern hadn’t seen what she’d seen, she never would have suspected the truth. Only her spying told her where to look, spotting two pairs of scuff marks on the hardwood floor, pointed towards… She swallowed, eyes raising up to the bookshelf. Walking forward as though in a trance, captivated by the need to see for herself what lay beyond it, she looked over the shelf, skimming titles until she found the unique choice amongst them. Histoire d’O. The title was the only French novel, but more than that, the subject matter couldn’t be a coincidence. Hand drifting up, Fern pulled on the book with a finger. It leaned forward slightly, then the bookshelf swung away from her, revealing the secret room hidden within. … Peering through the door, Fern held her breath, straining to see. Aurelia brought down a cane onto the exposed asses of the girls. By shifting her view, Fern could see that the girls had been stripped and made to bend over, heads down so that their long brown hair dangled almost onto the floorboards, touching their toes, leaving their bare butts completely vulnerable. Aurelia stalked from side to side, striking the two girls without mercy. With every impact, Fern’s heart slammed in her chest, anticipation building. Though horrified, she couldn’t look away, needing to see every mark, every crack of the switch. She craved it. Finally, Aurelia stepped back, her voice as steady and dominant as ever. “That’s enough. Standing.” Both girls stood together, adopting similar postures, their shaking legs shoulder-width apart and their naked bodies facing their aunt. Leah moved to rub at her cheeks, to soothe the soreness, but that only earned her a crack of the switch across her knuckles. Fern caught the flash of a smirk on Carolyn’s lips, the girl’s brown eyes sparkling for just a moment before her expression returned to quiet submission. “We’ve learned our lesson,” Carolyn promised. “We shouldn’t have stayed out–” She froze, swallowing, reacting to an expression on Aurelia’s face that Fern couldn’t see. “Your lesson,” Aurelia explained, snapping her cane in her hand for emphasis, “is not over. I don’t know when Fern will be home tonight, but tomorrow night, she’s been scheduled for a double shift. We’ll have the house all to ourselves, and then we’ll see if you’ve really learned your lesson. Do you understand?” Whimpering, both girls nodded, eyes down, refusing to so much as look at their aunt. Fern swallowed, and she felt immediately that she had to know more. … Stepping forward in a daze, Fern looked at the treasures arranged in the hidden room. It was more than she’d ever imagined. Some of the implements she’d seen before, when–last night–she’d arranged to have her shift covered and snuck home to witness the girls’ promised punishment. Fern had been unable to resist the allure, the need to know, and so she’d made her way back to her peephole, silent as a mouse, to watch the punishment. Two leather benches took up the center of the room. Fern could visualize the images from the previous evening that were now burned into her memory. The outline of two girls bent over them, butts in the air, hands and ankles cuffed in place so that they could not escape their torment. Arranged so that they were opposite each other, the girls gave Fern a perfect peep show. She could see Leah’s face, her narrow brown eyes burning red, tears streaking her makeup, while Carolyn’s exposed ass demonstrated why–bruises mark the skin, a canvas for an artist who worked with paddles and floggers. They’d each been allowed a little slack in the cuffs holding one wrist, so that they could reach out, holding each other’s hands for comfort throughout the torment–their only source of respite as Aurelia struck them, again and again. One shelf was taken up purely by implements meant for spankings. A half-dozen slender canes, some willowy and flexible, others thick and hard. A rain of blows left a dozen parallel stripes of pain on Carolyn’s skin, and each mark is matched by a desperate, high yelp. In contrast, a thick, small leather tool sat all alone, one end weighed down by lead shot. Bruising impacts fell, heavy thuds that forced Leah’s body into the bench. She whimpered and begged in a throaty, desperate voice, but her aunt showed not an ounce of mercy. Heart fluttering as she looks away from the spanking tools, Fern stepped up to a tall steel stand. Two clear plastic bags hung from the top, long hoses dangling below, with valves to control water flow. Still restrained, both girls were helpless as Aurelia stalked around them, holding a pair of identical nozzles that dangled from matching enema bags. The bags sagged on the stand, full of sudsy water, so much that Fern didn’t believe it could all possibly fit inside the petite girls. “Let’s see if you can do better than last time,” she taunted, stopping behind Carolyn and plunging the tip of one nozzle deep inside. Carolyn inhaled sharply, gasping as the enema hose filled her up. Leah took it better, biting her lip and closing her eyes to brace for the penetration. They both held their bodies tight and tense. Their freshly bruising bottoms quivered, knowing that this would only be the start. “One quart each,” Aurelia said, and Fern realized only then that the girls, with their heads low and eyes downcast, couldn’t see how full the bags were. “But–” Leah began. “Shut up!” Carolyn snapped, before the other niece could get them into further trouble. Aurelia smirked and laughed. “You should listen to her, unless you both want to try the full three quarts.” “But that’s–” Leah repeated, eyes widening as she realized her mistake. Carolyn shook her head, butt wiggling slightly in the air, but she couldn’t stop the words after they’d already been said. Aurelia only smirked. “Two quarts it is. Do you want to go for three?” Both girls fell silent. Nodding, Aurelia reached up and released the nozzles. The water lines began to lower, sloshing into the girls, who whimpered as they were filled up with painful, dribbling slowness. She left the girls there, leaving for just a moment. “You brat!” Carolyn snapped, while they had a moment of semi-privacy. “I’m sorry,” Leah whimpered in response, helpless squeaks of discomfort escaping her throat as the enema filled her more and more. “I–I couldn’t help it!” Before they could say anything further, Aurelia returned with a large pitcher, making good on her threat by topping off the enema bags. “If this doesn’t help you learn,” Aurelia mused, grinning wickedly as she watched the two girls squirm and squeak, wriggling their bruised bottoms in the air as water poured into them drip by drip. “We may have to try a more enduring lesson. I wonder–would daily spankings for a week keep you both in line? Or daily enemas?” Both girls whimpered, shaking their heads. “Of course,” Aurelia said, as though they’d answered her. “It should be both! So remember–that’s what will happen if you fuck up again–and that’s if I choose to be merciful.” Back in the present, mind still half lost in the memory, Fern’s eyes fell on the rear-most shelf, and her breath fell still. Upon that shelf, in styles ranging from plain white to decorated and juvenile, were dozens–hundreds, even–of stacked adult diapers. Whimpering as they returned from the privacy of the bathroom after being allowed to release their enemas, the girls laid down, squirming but silent, onto a pair of pads on the bed. Fern’s peephole could just barely see that far to the side, letting her watch as Aurelia wrapped the squirming girls up in their diapers. “Let’s see if you’ll still stay out late wearing these,” Aurelia warned. “Or do you think nobody will notice your puffy bottoms if you go dancing in your miniskirts while wearing your diapers?” Fern moved towards the thick, puffy garments in a trance, reaching out to touch the object of her obsession,, to feel the slight plastic crinkle beneath her trembling fingertips. Near the end of the stack, a pair of handcuffs had been left out away from its home with the other restraints, sitting on one of the diapers. The contrast between the two–a juvenile object of comfort and a hard, sharp tool of bondage–left her feeling dizzy. Her gaze fell over the pair of glimmering steel handcuffs, polished to a mirror shine. She saw herself in the restraints, her own dark eyes enormous puddles of desperate need, her nut-brown skin flushed, sweat beading on her forehead. She felt as though she’d been running for miles, heart beating fast, but instead of fatigue, she wanted something, wanted to– Fern’s eyes widened further as she saw another face reflected in the cuffs, and she spun, yelping in alarm. Aurelia stood in the closet doorway, looking like a Greek goddess of vengeance. Arms on her hips, standing tall, the older woman glared fire down at the trembling Fern. “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” ... Written as a commission Two more chapters of this story are on their way soon! If you want to support the creation of stories like this, please consider subscribing or getting a commission. (Or both! One perk of subscription is that you get discounts on commissions!) 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The next couple of days were remarkably normal. All three of the roommates stayed very focused on their coursework and social activities. Poor Teddy, unfortunately, had to do so with a very sore backside. He was still fidgeting in class on Wednesday night. The swelling had subsided, but the bruises were deep and unrelenting. And the crappy classroom chairs were less than forgiving. Towards the end of class, Ted winced as he shifted in his seat. Looking up, he saw Ashley staring daggers at him from across the room. Blushing he looked down at his laptop and furiously pretended to take notes. He looked up a moment later to find Ashley still staring at him. He tried to remain still, but there was just no way of sitting comfortably with such a sore bottom. He wasn’t sure why, but Ted felt certain that Ashley could tell exactly what was going on. When class ended, he bolted for the door, to avoid an awkward confrontation with Ashley, and he nearly ran all the way home. --- Earlier that same evening back on Columbia Ave., Lara eagerly opened a box that had arrived that afternoon. She tore at the tape and dumped the contents on her bed. Her mouth fell open. Before her was a bag of large diapers in pastel blue, adorned with a cute repeating print featuring baby bottles, pacifiers, teddy bears, and diaper pins. They looked just like baby diapers. Only they weren’t for babies. These diapers were huge, sized to fit an adult. Definitely the just right size for her friend Teddy. Lara giggled, then aggressively tore open the plastic packaging. Finally getting her hands on one of the oversized Pampers, she marveled at it, squeezing the diaper and unfolding it. “It’s so thick!” she mused in her head, happy she had opted for a brand billed as “overnights.” Needing a reference point, she grabbed on of the Goodnites from under her bed, Lara lay the two garments side by side. There was absolutely no comparison. The bigger diaper several times bulkier than the pull-up. It was obviously far more appropriate for the type of accident Teddy had on Saturday night. Lara slid her hand down her pants as she began to imagine Ted clad in the puffy blue diaper… Her fingers found the target as she visualized his thickly diapered bottom upturned and over her knee… She rubbed herself as she pictured him standing in the corner sucking on a pacifier… “Pacifier!” Lara’s eyes shot open as she whispered the word aloud. She hurried to her desk, opening her laptop to retrieve the search history from Sunday night. Keeping one hand between her legs, Lara worked the mouse with her other. She greedily filled her online shopping cart with every item that caught her eye - onesies, footie pajamas, cute diaper covers, pacifiers, bibs - all in Teddy’s size. A sudden tap on the door made her jump. Lara slammed her laptop closed and pulled her hand from her pants just as Stacey opened the door. “Hey La, you in here?” “Oh… ahem.. uh yeah,” stammered Lara. “What the…” Stacey gawked at the open bag of diapers on Lara’s bed. “What…” Lara’s mouth went dry. She was flustered, embarrassed, and still aroused. Stacey picked up a diaper from the bed. She erupted in laughter. “Baahaha! What the hell!!” Lara laughed, a little nervously. “Where did you get these?” Stacey said, holding up the diaper and wiping her eyes. Lara shrugged, trying to look innocent. “Ha… internet,” she said, hooking a thumb casually at her laptop. She did a double take, wishing she hadn’t called attention there. “Oh man,” Stacey kept laughing. “You weren’t kidding about getting him something thicker.” She squeezed the diaper, sizing up its bulk. “I just started poking around online, and came across these. I couldn’t resist…” Lara trailed off a bit, again nervously looking over at her computer. Stacey picked up on it this time. She looked over at the laptop, back at the diaper in her hand, then at the bed. She dropped the diaper on the bed and picked up the Goodnite. Eying the pull-up momentarily, Stacey quickly looked back over at Lara. Lara crossed her legs and her face went pale. “What were you just doing when I came in here?” Stacey asked directly. “I wasss just on my um computer,” Lara said, failing to sound confident. “Doing…?” The color returned to Lara’s cheeks in full. She felt them flush as she looked at the floor. “I was um… you know,” she smiled nervously and nodded toward her crotch. Lara didn’t mind admitting to masturbating. She and Stacey had always been open and positive about their sexuality. Self love was not among the spankable offenses in the house rules. “I see,” said Stacey, tapping the pull-up against her palm. “And I assume that means all your homework is done?” Lara fidgeted and look at the floor. Masturbating while putting off school work was, in fact, a spankable offense. But just a hand spanking. A quick warmup as a reminder to get back on track. “No… it’s not done yet,” Lara said, in her best broody teen voice. “Here I was coming to say that I thought we could skip our Wednesday appointment this week,” Stacey chided. “Ugh.. fine, let’s get it over with.” Lara stood and approached the bed. “Yeah, you get yourself over my lap. And while I spank you, you can tell me more about these hilarious diapers,” said Stacey. “And… maybe you can tell me why I see a couple of these Goodnites in your trash can?” She tossed the pull-up back on the bed and sat down. Lara blushed as she bent over her friend’s knee. Relieved to be able to hide her face, she thought back to how she had been enjoying her Goodnites the last few days, just as she had on Sunday night. It was a turn on to be sure, but she wasn’t exactly eager about admitting as much to her roommate. Still, as she felt Stacey bare her butt, Lara knew better than to lie about it. Lara yelped as sharp smack landed on her naked bottom. “So…?” Stacey asked as she spanked her friend again. “When you suggested we get a pack of pink training pants, they were for you, huh? Not for Teddy?” “Well… they were gonna be for him…” Lara hesitated. “Ow!” She yelped as Stacey landed a hard smack. “But I decided to try one on the other night and… ow!!” Stacey started spanking in earnest. “And it felt good?” “Ohh! Ow! Uh.. yeah… ow! Yeah it kinda uh… oww!! It turned me on!” “I see,” said Stacey, pausing momentarily and resting her hand on Lara’s pink cheeks. “And these big baby diapers? Will you be trying these on too?” Lara felt a wave of indignation. “No way! Those are just for that little bed wetter downstairs.” Stacey laughed. “If you say so.” She resumed the spanking, warming Lara’s cheeks evenly. “Either way,” Stacey lectured, “you should know better than to have any naughty playtime in your little pull-ups before your homework is all done.” “I know…” pouted Lara. She lay still, taking her punishment. There was only a mild sting, and she began enjoying the warmth that grew in her butt and spread to her crotch. Stacey paused and rubbed Lara’s rosy backside. “Alright, I think that’s enough.” But she held Lara in place across her lap. “Although, I have been thinking…” Lara whipped her head around, suddenly very concerned for her exposed rear end. “What??” she demanded. Stacey continued rubbing, furthering stimulating Lara’s arousal. “Well… I think maybe, what we did to Ted… it was just a little,” she hesitated searching for the right word. She settled on, “unfair.” Lara wriggled a little on Stacey’s lap, attempting to stand. Stacey held her in place and spanked her once. “Ow hey! Speaking of unfair…” Lara fumed. Stacey ignored her protest and just continued with her line of thinking. “I mean, he definitely got what he deserved. It was his choice to go through with the party. And he suffered the appropriate consequences.” Stacey tightened her grip around Lara’s waist, resting her free hand on her thighs. “But we set him up. We’re at least partially responsible.” “So… what exactly are you saying?” Lara had a pretty clear idea of where Stacey was going with this, and she didn’t like it. But she wasn’t in much of a position to argue, still bent over Stacey’s knee. “I’m saying I feel guilty about what we did,” retorted Stacey. “And,” she continued, with three gentle swats to Lara’s butt, “I should think you likely feel the same.” It was definitely more a statement than a question. Lara took a moment to think. As much as she was enjoying tormenting Teddy, as much as it turned her on, there was no denying that Stacey was right. They had acted cruelly toward their friend, and had yet to face any consequences. “Ugh… you’re right,” Lara groaned, her tone again resembling a troublesome teenager. “So what’s our punishment?” “Well, we were only half responsible, if that…” Stacey said. She had clearly given this some thought. “I think the strap is appropriate. Maybe half a strapping? Three strokes each?” Again, Lara wanted to protest. But Stacey’s grip around her waist seemed to keep tightening, and her tone was very authoritative. As the more dominant of the two, Stacey’s word was usually law, and Lara knew it. Lara sighed. “Fine…” she begrudged. “Good,” Stacey said as she smacked Lara’s bottom hard. She stood her up and handed her the pull-up. “Why don’t you finish up with whatever … ahem … I interrupted, then meet me in my room for a real Wednesday appointment.” Lara blushed as she took the pull-up. She felt so small, with her pants around her ankles, her rosy bottom exposed, a thin diaper in her hand. It was strange and embarrassing, but arousing. A smile curled in the corners of her mouth. Stacey spanked her one more time as she turned to leave. “Oh and keep that little diaper on when your done. I wanna see how cute it looks on you.” Lara just panted. She waited for the door to close, then slipped on the Goodnite and got back to business.

I'm not a parent, but if he isn't potty trained he doesn't have a choice. It's your adult choice to wear and wet.

After being diapered off and on basically my entire life and missing the days where I'd frequently wet the bed when I was a kid, I decided to just start wearing and using premium diapers 24-7 in December 2023. I also recently started following the 12 month diaper training guide that gets mentioned here quite often and now in April 2024 I'm proud to say that I'm wetting frequently with strong sudden urges but not much comes out and also dribbling involuntarily post void. I also woke up to a wet bed last night without remembering peeing for the first time in many years and I couldn't be more proud of myself. This stage seemed to come recently and out of nowhere for me after only feeling like I needed to pee sooner than before and that was it for a long time. I'd wake up needing to pee, frustrated that my body woke itself up to do so, peed myself then went back to sleep. This is finally starting to change. So don't get discouraged or frustrated if you're trying to accomplish the same thing I have. Be patient, stay hydrated and wet yourself no matter what as soon as you feel the urge to pee. You have to act like you don't have any choice. It's a mental barrier that you must break because we were trained at a very young age that it's not okay to pee yourself. Tell yourself that it is okay even if you think you might leak. I'm Looking forward to continuing down this path and I'm looking forward to the point of no return. To those that think that it isn't possible to make yourself incontinent, my nose and sheets are saying otherwise right now...

Ted woke with a start. The blankets on his bed rustled and his mattress shifted. He had been so deeply asleep, it took him a moment to realize… someone was getting in bed with him. A voice whispered, “Shhh… it’s ok, it’s me.” Ted felt an arm wrap around him and settle him back to his pillow. He finally saw Lara's face faintly through the dark, smiling as she lay in bed next to him. He relaxed, but wondered what she was doing there. Lara’s rubbed Ted’s back, soothing him, then slowly slid her hand down to his hip. “How’s your diaper holding up?” she whispered, tugging on the elastic? Ted scowled and blood rushed to his face. He pouted, still in a bit of a fog wondering if he was dreaming. “Oh don’t be a sour puss!” Lara chided. She slapped him on the thigh. “I actually think they’re really cute. And maybe a little…” Ted’s face softened. He stared at Lara. “… sexy,” she finished softly. Lifting the blankets, she gave Ted a view of her bottom half. He became aroused when he saw she wasn’t wearing pants. But in the dark, he couldn’t make out just what she was wearing. Lara took Ted’s hand and pulled it toward her crotch. His mouth dropped open as he felt a familiar papery crinkle between her legs. His cock swelled within his own diaper. Lara's hand found its way there. She rubbed him through the thin padding making him harder and harder. The tight fitting pull-up constricted his member as it pressed and grew bigger. Lara stared him in the eye as she slid her hand down the waistband and gripped him. Ted gasped. “Oh my… such a big boy…” she cooed. Ted’s eyes rolled back in his head. He moaned as Lara’s cool fingers worked up and down his shaft. “Mmm… that’s it, big boy. That feels good doesn’t it?” “Uhhh huh… don’t… stop…” Lara quickened her pace. Ted’s pull-up crinkled loudly and stretched to the limit. She could tell it wouldn’t take long to get him to a climax. With the boy consumed in his pleasure, she decided to add some baby talk to encourage him to associate his orgasm with being babied. “That’s my big boy… are you gonna make a mess in your diapie? Come on baby, make a sticky mess for me. Don’t worry, I’ll clean you all up and get you in a nice fresh diaper.” Conflicted momentarily by the humiliating way she spoke to him, and the feeling of her hand massaging his cock, Ted gave in to the pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned with delight. “Good boy. You’re gonna make a messy aren’t you? Come on little boy. Cum for me baby. Cum in your little diaper…” Ted did just that. With a loud groan, he exploded into his Goodnite. He writhed on the bed, enjoying every drop. “Good boy…” Lara purred at him. “That’s my good boy.” The padding did its job and soaked up all of Ted’s orgasm. He lay on his bed, eyes closed, in pure bliss. Lara looked him over with a huge smile. “Ok little one,” she finally whispered, “you need a fresh diaper before you fall back asleep.” Ted felt himself blush. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, again feeling deeply embarrassed by Lara’s tone. Lara tore open the sides of his Goodnite and slid it out from under him. She stood up and tossed the used diaper to the floor. Ted continued pretending he was asleep as Lara grabbed a fresh pull-up from the night stand, stretched it out and slid it up his legs. When she reached his hips, she implored him. “Up please,” she said, surprising herself with a distinctly maternal tone. Ted did as he was told, lifting his bottom off the bed so Lara could get the pull-up in place. He kept his eyes tightly closed, though. “There we go, all clean and dry,” Lara said as she patted his crotch. “Time to go back to sleep, little boy.” Again, she thought she sounded like a mom taking care of a small child. A warmth grew inside her. Lara tucked Ted back in and kissed him on the cheek, eliciting a smile from the boy. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she cooed in his ear. She watched as Ted melted back to sleep, then she quietly left, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar. She tiptoed back upstairs and passed out with a wide smile spread across her face.

I’ve known about ABDL for a long time, but due to just now being an adult I have been able to explore it more. I have always felt weird identifying as an ABDL because when I regress, I regress to the ages of 3-7. Due to being a little behind as a child as a result of being autistic, my interests and development were behind. After not liking pacifiers as an infant I developed a love for them at 3, and from 3-8 I was either Diapered or had a pull up on at least at night. So when I regress to those ages it may look like I am an AB but I definitely feel anywhere from 3-7. That’s the time in my life where I have the most childhood memories, and I love reliving it without all the extra trauma. But I would definitely say Adult Kid suits me a lot more!

Hi guys! I have some huge news!😃 So like I mentioned before in a previous post, I'm getting my first ever adult baby pacifier! Yay! It's going to be custom-made. It's going to have a silicone nipple with a dark blue pacifier shield and a baby blue button with a big star on it, with a yellow handle like in these images. I'm so excited! I also bought a pacifier storage bag for my future pacis that I'm gonna buy, and I bought my first ever pacifier clip so I can pin it to my shirt and pacifier so that I don't lose it. I think it should be ready in about 2 weeks. I just feel so happy that I finally got the courage to order me one of these cuz I've been wanting one for a long time!😃

I would say as long as you keep your baby stuff like your diapers, your wipes, bottles, etc, away from your son, especially while your potty training him then that's okay. As long as the child doesn't get mixed messages about using the potty like a big boy, then I would say that it's totally fine. I would also keep whatever games that you do with your wife between you two and NOT let him see. But other than that, that's really all there is to it. I have friends in similar situations and I would say that as long as you don't mix the two, that being being a baby and being a parent then I would say you're perfectly okay.

Oh yeah definitely! I'll be sure to take a photo!😁😃😊 And thanks my little ashy! Big hugs!🤗♥️🧸

Congrats Jeggy I hope we get to see it when it arrives.

Thanks to @DiaperboyEddie12for donating $20 and making a purchase through my northshore affiliate link!

@Reddy I am also having surgery to remove my prostate and part of the bladder neck. This is due to severe retention from BPH. The procedure I will be having done is the HOLEP. My doctor said do to the state of my sphincter (partially atrophied from years of overflow incontinence) I my not regain control. I told her it doesn't matter as long as the UTIs are in the past.

I am a parent, my son is an adult . Now unless you plan to choose his or her life and make them wear diapers by your choice , you need to do the proper parental thing and potty train kids. So when you take the kid to school they will be able to use a restroom . Most schools will not take your kid until they are potty trained. I know when we started my son in kindergarten they asked is he potty trained, if not wait a year to start school . It should be the Childs choice to wear diapers after the potty 🚽 training years average ages unless they have problems holding . Now if your kid finds out about you or your wife wearing etc. Then answer in very veg answers depending on the age. I am not sure what age you can get them to without having them see things like dirty diapers in the trash etc. Then you can say mommy has an issue and needs to wear diapers. I have read about families that never potty train, but that takes the choice away from the child. I don't think it's hypocritical at all to wear for fun and train your kid to use the potty . If a child wets the bed till teen years then you don't punish them, you can say things like its a lot of laundry so then give them a choice wear a diaper to bed to help you, or show them how to put the sheets in the wash. I do know most families both parents work, so it's a way to help out, it should never be used as punishment to help out with the laundry for wet bed after an age, of say 12 yrs? I was doing laundry and some cooking at age 10.

Don't think you need to feel like a hypocrite: the way I see it is it's two different thing's. One thing is teaching your kid a valuable life skill and good parenting, and the other is having fun with your wife. Just as long as you're careful not to get caught or do anything silly involving diapers round your kid so you confuse him I don't see a problem personally.

That's so awesome and that's a good outlook for you.

I did the same thing in middle and high-school too. Since I lived in a household of 7 with no privacy, I could only do it for 5 to 10 minutes before or after getting out the shower. I was too scared to go down the aisle by myself. I had an fear that people would think I needed diapers for some reason by just walking down it. It also didn't help that my Dad threatened to put me in goodnites for my bedwetting and I didn't want anyone to find out. Thinking back, I wet the enough to justify needing them until I was at least 11.

I was living in a boarding house when I was in High School, so I couldn't risk such things. I also was a little spoiled in college and never had my own money until I was out of college (22 years old). Goodnites came out at roughly the same time, and the day I got hired for my first paying job out of college was the day that I bought my first package of Goodnites from a store.

That sounds great buddy. I'm glad you and your husband have such a healthy relationship and that he's okay with you being yourself, that's always a good thing.

For a while (pre-COVID) , I worked from home in a t-shirt and diaper. This was before zoom so all my work calls were audio only. Occassionally, my wife would call and say she was bringing someone over and I should put some pants on. I really loved that house. My office was in a bedroom that had a full bath. When not working at the computer I was in the tub with bubbles working out problems on the tile wall with bath crayons.

Chapter 8: Naptime "Wait here, young miss, while I get your friend here a diaper change. I'll check on you once he is all cleaned up." The mannequin carrying Steve and Ashley spoke as it set Ashley into one of the cribs in the nursery upstairs. "Now, as for you, stinky mister, let's change you. I hope you learned your lesson about misbehaving." Steve simply nodded slowly. He didn't want to listen to these things, but also after what he just went through, he's not too sure about not listening to them either. Nyxara took Steve out of the nursery and across the hall to the changing room. As much as Steve wanted to be out of this diaper, he knew he was just getting into another one. He wasn't sure what was more humiliating, the fact that he would be getting a diaper change or the fact that he needed one in the first place. The mannequin gently set Steve on the changing table. He felt his soaked and messy diaper squish from under him. As much as he hated the feeling, he was already starting to get used to it. Getting out of this thing and into a new one would be so much better than what he had to deal with for the last while he was here. He wasn't sure how long he was like that. He hasn't seen a single clock since they got here. All of the windows had thick curtains that let in no light. Without their phones or watches, there was no way to tell how much time passed while they were here. Steve began to wonder. How did that man know he's been here for years, then? Without any sense of time, couldn't it have just as easily been only a matter of months or even days? He must have some way of tracking time. Steve was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even pay attention to what the mannequin was doing. He didn't really want to. It would only make him feel worse about his situation. Trying to keep himself distracted, he began looking around the room. He remembered the last time he had been in here. The mannequin had placed Ashley's phone up on the shelf. Steve glanced over at the shelf above his head, trying to see if he could spot her phone. "No squirming, mister. I'm almost done." The mannequin spoke in a commanding manner, breaking Steve's attempts to be anywhere but here mentally. He looked down to see the mannequin placing the diaper tapes around his waist. His diaper was already changed, and he didn't even notice it. "Alright, up we go, now let's get you into some comfy pajamas." the mannequin grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet, standing on the changing table. Steve focused solely on the shelf above his head. He had to see if Ashley's phone was on it. More importantly, he noticed that standing on the changing table put the shelf just ever so slightly out of range. Realistically, if Ashley gave him a boost, he could reach her phone that's up there! "Here we are. These will be perfect." the mannequin held out a baby blue footie pajama set. It had little blue cartoon whales all over it. "Are you gonna be a big boy and help put them on, or do you need me to help?" It held open the onesie in a way that allowed Steve to place his foot in it. He hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to wear such a childish piece of clothing, but at least he wouldn't be subjected to it dressing him. Reluctantly, he stepped into the onesie, being careful not to trip. Within a matter of moments, he was securely zippered into the garment. "Thank you! Good job, young man!" Its words felt more like a mock instead of encouragement. Steve had no way to tell when it came to these things. It seems like they think they all are children, but at times, it seems more like it's trying to be condescending. "Now let's get you off to your nap." Nyxara picked up Steve and took him back to the nursery. Looking at the shelf, he couldn't tell if his phone was up there, but he could make out the faint outline of Ashley's. "How are those two doing?" Nyxara asked the other mannequin. "Angels as always. It seems like we might have a bit of a troublemaker. That one has been trying to climb out of her crib since the moment you turned your back. Luckily, it's too tall for her. We might need to help them fall asleep, it is their first day here." Elysia walked over to Steve in Nyxara's arms with a smile on its fake face. "Probably a good idea, this one was very well-behaved. No fussiness at all. I think he might have learned his lesson. In fact, he was so good that he even managed to help get himself dressed. We might have a young man here in no time." Every word the mannequin spoke felt like getting a knife twisted into Steve's side. He blushed a deep shade of red, knowing that Ashley just heard every word of that. How would she ever look at him the same after everything that's happened? Nyxara walked over to the open crib and placed Steve into it, laying him down on his back. She then tucked him in under a blanket. "There we go, sweetie. You get some rest," it spoke softly to him, then pulled out a pacifier and stuck it in his mouth. His eyes got huge. He never thought he would have one of these in his mouth as an adult. Steve quickly scanned the room, looking at the others, confused about what to do. He saw the other male and female in cribs across the room. Both of them were in the same situation as him. Both were tucked in under a blanket and had a pacifier in their mouth. Not wanting to create more trouble for himself, he just left it in and began to close his eyes. Realizing he didn't know if Ashley was safe, he stopped himself. He saw the mannequin leave him and walk over to the crib next to him where Ashley was. "Alright, young miss. How are you doing? Do you need a diaper change?" the mannequin pushed Ashley on her back, trying to reach her crotch area to undo the buttons and check on her diaper. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Ashley screamed at it when it went to grab her. "Of course, I don't need a change; I'm not a baby!" She screamed, not realizing how hurtful the words were to Steve. He felt a stinging shot at his ego and self-image. Mad at her comment, he didn't bother to try and see what happened to her. Instead, he just rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Hoping when he awoke that this whole thing would turn out to be a nightmare. "Miss, that's enough. I know you're tired, but this is no way to act." Nyxara was having some trouble getting Ashley to stay still long enough for her to undress and check her diaper. Unlike the changing tables, there were no straps to keep her contained. "Elysia, can you help me with this one? She is being a bit of a pickle." Elysia rushed over and pinned Ashley's arms to the bed as Nyxara unbuttoned her onesie, getting a clear view of her diaper. "Looks like someone is dry. Let's just leave her in this one. I'm sure it can hold any accidents that may happen. She is too tired to try and get changed." Nyxara told Elysia as she pulled the onesie up towards Ashley's head to remove it. Ashley blushed at the mannequin's words. Recalling her childhood issues. She prayed that they wouldn't rear their ugly faces again. It's been years, and she was an adult now. She hasn't had any issues in forever now. Just because they were being treated like children didn't make them one. Right? Reality quickly came crashing back in as Ashley felt the cold air from the room on her stomach. She was about to be in just a diaper in a room filled with mostly strangers, leaving everything on full display. "Why isn't Steve doing anything!" She thought. "Steve! Help me, for crying out loud!" She shouted, hoping for him to come to her rescue. Anyone to come to her rescue. "Shhh, Sweetie, the others are trying to sleep. Now stop being so difficult," Elysia said to her. It was clear the mannequins were starting to get frustrated at the situation. Ashley was doing everything in her power to prevent these things from violating her again. She did everything she could to keep her arms pinned to her sides, not wanting them to remove the childish onesie dress she was placed in. But it was of no use. Elysia used its arm to keep Ashley pinned to the bed while it slipped her arms, one by one, through the sleeves. Finally getting the majority of the garment off. Ashley felt mortified; she was lying in a crib with just a diaper on, her breasts on full display for anyone to see. The mannequins finally let up now that the onesie was off, freeing her arms. She quickly wrapped them around her chest, doing her best to hide her breasts. "Let's use this one; it'll be easier to get off." Elysia handed Nyxara a nightgown with tank top style shoulders. The shoulders had snaps, making it so it could be taken off either way. Ashley wanted to refuse, seeing the bright pink dress, but it was a better option than remaining naked. Ashley sat up and threw her arms up, hoping they would take the chance to cover her up quickly and without difficulty. "Thank you young miss." Nyxara spoke, pulling the nightgown over her head, and into place. Ashley hated every word, and sound out of these things mouths, but having something to wear still beat being exposed. Nyxara, then pushed Ashley back down to tuck her under the blanket that was in the cup. "Alright, sleep tight all. Remember, it's nap time. I don't want to hear any noise from in here." Nyxara spoke, its eyes glowing red in the dark of the room. Its menacing expression sent shivers down Ashley's spine. Glancing around the room, she noticed it looked like everyone was already asleep. How could they sleep in such a terrifying place? Suddenly, Ashley's eyes felt heavy. She tried to stay awake and look around the room for a means of escape, but something caused all of the energy in her body to drain, and she passed out, unable to stay awake.

As must as I hate that Wattpad may do a blanket ban on ABDL content, they need to do something. The sheer amount of underage sexual content on that site is sickening. Also it seems that over 50% of the ABDL content was written by a 5th grader and is unreadable. This why I'm not even bothering to post my current story on that site. I'm mainly writing it for myself anyway and the ABDL community.

My first attempt at a complete story, though it has opening for more if demand warrants. But I'm a bit flighty, so don't hold your breath. Brittany felt the warmth spread throughout her crotch and down the insides of her thighs. She tugged her t-shirt down as low as she could get it, hoping for the best. But of course the conveyor belt at the checkout lane was much too tall. Like everything else in this cursed place. Every time she reached up on tiptoes to put another item on the conveyor, she could feel eyes on the growing wet spot on her behind. Someone was sure to notice soon enough. Brittany had to practically climb into the shopping cart to get the last few items, exposing herself even more. The smallest size bag of chips was enough to feed her for a week. A single serving of apple juice was like a gallon to her. The clerk waited patiently as Brittany unloaded the items and pulled a wallet out of her purse. “That’ll be $24.87,” the clerk said after ringing up the last of Brittany’s purchases. Brittany pulled a wallet out of a small pink purse with unicorn and princess prints. The purse was just a child’s toy she had picked up at a dollar store, but it was the only bag small enough for her to carry. Brittany pulled out a ten and a twenty and stood on her tiptoes to hand them to the clerk. The clerk punched the numbers into the register and calculated the change. She stretched across the counter to hand the change down to the Little. Brittany stuffed the change and wallet into her purse, eager to get out of the store. Brittany was 5’ 5”, but that reduced her to the size of the average four-year-old in this place. She had to reach up just to get her hands on the buggy’s handle. “Have a great day,” the clerk said. “Thanks,” Brittany said. As Brittany stretched to push the buggy out of the aisle toward the door, her shirt rose up again, exposing her wet behind. This time, the clerk noticed. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?” the clerk asked. “Do you need some help?” “O-oh, I’ve got it,” Brittany stammered back. “I just noticed your behind is a little damp,” the clerk said. “Are you with someone?” Brittany’s heart began to race. She knew “Are you with someone” meant “Where is your mommy or daddy,” and she nearly froze. Brittany turned around. “No, I, uh — I just accidentally bumped one of the freezer doors. It had a lot of condensation on it,” Brittany said. Brittany tried to remain calm, but her hands were trembling now. The clerk looked skeptical, but smiled and nodded. Brittany continued to head toward the exit. With no other customers in line, the clerk then stepped out from behind the counter and went into the aisle to tidy up the displays there. Suddenly she noticed a small puddle on the floor. She was about to call for someone to clean up the spill when she glanced back at Brittany, who was nearly to the exit. She looked back at the puddle and put two and two together. “Security!” the clerk called. Brittany pushed faster toward the exit when she felt a large hand on her shoulder stopping her. “Just wait right here, miss,” another female voice said. Brittany looked over her shoulder and saw a large redhead in a uniform. The woman kept her hand firmly on Brittany’s shoulder, but she smiled pleasantly. “Is there a problem?” the security guard asked. “I think that Little just peed on the floor,” the clerk said. “N-no!” Brittany protested. “I just bumped one of the freezer doors. It was wet!” “Is that so?” the guard said, not believing her. “Let’s see.” The guard lifted Brittany’s t-shirt, saw the dark wet stain on her faded blue jeans, and asked, “Then why are your pants wet all the way down to your shoes?” The guard sighed, still smiling. “And how did you get wet between your legs?” By then, a young boy, from the strange place Brittany had found herself in, with a peach fuzz mustache, had arrived with a mop. Brittany glanced at him, taller than her by several feet though years younger, and she glanced back at the guard. She swallowed hard. She looked at the clerk, who was looking at her now with a frown. Then she looked back at the guard. “I-I-I don’t know,” Brittany said. She struggled to find the words. “Maybe it was more wet than I thought. It was just an accident.” “We know all about accidents, Little one.” The guard’s voice had turned stern. “Where are your mommy and daddy?” Brittany’s jaw dropped. Her mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out. Finally, she managed to say, “I don’t have any. I’m not a baby.” “I asked her if she had someone with her,” the clerk interrupted. “I see,” the guard said. Brittany looked around desperately, hoping for a way out. Another boy about her age and size had turned around to see what the commotion was. He had a pacifier in his mouth, and Brittany noticed a diaper bulge under his shortalls. The large woman next to him tugged his hand, and he waddled after her out the door. Brittany began to panic. “I think we should step into the office here and have a chat,” the guard said. With the guard’s strong hand firmly on her shoulder, Brittany knew she had no choice but to go along. With the guard leading, Brittany pushed her buggy, conscious of the now cold and damp jeans chaffing her thighs. The guard led Brittany to a small room near the service desk and opened the door. She held the door open and motioned for Brittany to go inside. Brittany parked her buggy by the wall, and her hands trembled as she walked into the room. The guard followed her in and closed the door behind them. Brittany surveyed the room. There was a small desk with a computer screen, keyboard, and mouse on top, along with scattered papers. Multiple framed signs hung on the walls, highlighting employee rights and company values. The guard dropped into a swiveling office chair behind the desk. She was just about to motion to Brittany to take a seat in a squarish cushioned chair on the other side when she reconsidered. “I’d invite you to sit down, but I don’t want the chair to get wet,” the guard said. Brittany blushed. “Now, tell me again what happened,” the guard said. She had picked up a pen and a legal pad to take notes. After testing her pen on the pad with a few scribbles, she looked at Brittany and said, “You said you bumped something wet, and that’s how your pants got wet?” Brittany swallowed. “Y-yeah, I was in the freezer section, and, uh, one of the doors was really wet. I guess someone had left it open too long. Condensation, you know?” “Condensation,” the guard said, writing it down. “Yeah, I bumped it,” Brittany said. Brittany looked around nervously. Though the room was small for the guard, it was huge to Brittany. She saw a padded table on the other side of the room from the desk. Beneath the table were multiple drawers. The guard noticed Brittany’s nervousness and said, “My apologies. I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Angela.” Angela smiled and reached out a hand. “And yours is?” Brittany looked back at Angela, swallowed, and said, “B-B-Brittany.” Brittany’s eyes had turned glassy, her lips quivering. Beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead. She sniffed, and wiped at the corner of her eye. She wiped her hand on the knee of her pants and reached her hand out. Her fingertips were trembling as she took Angela’s proffered hand. Angela’s giant hand took Brittany’s fingertips in a gentle shake. She squeezed Brittany’s tiny fingers gently, smiled, and then let go. “It’s nice to meet you, Brittany,” Angela said, still smiling gently. “So, let’s talk about what happened here. Would that be okay?” “I-I guess so,” Brittany said. “Good,” Angela said. She scribbled something on her pad. “That’s good.” Angela’s lips tightened, and she studied her desk a moment with a look of concern. Then she looked back up and smiled from the corner of her mouth. She looked Brittany in the eyes. “You know the rules about Littles, right?” “Well, y-yeah!” Brittany said, hoping Angela would see she was going to cooperate. “Of course!” Angela’s tight smile widened, and she said, “Great. I’m glad we got that out of the way.” Brittany took a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. Maybe there was some hope. Maybe she could get off with a warning. It really was just an accident. It wasn’t like it happened all the time. She had her own apartment. She had a steady job teaching at preschool, even if some of the toddlers there were as big as she was. Angela continued. “So you know one of the rules is we can’t have Littles having, you know, accidents in public. At least not without protection. It’s a health concern. You understand, right? We can’t have urine and all that on the floors.” Brittany’s eyes grew wide. This was not going the direction she had hoped. She said, “Well, yeah! I mean, but—but it wasn’t an accident! I mean, not that kind!” Angela tightened her lips in a tired smile. Then she closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “Look, we understand the gravity here affects you all differently.” “No, it’s not like that!” Brittany interrupted. “I just. That is, I-I—” “You bumped your butt against a freezer door, and somehow got ‘condensation’ all between your legs,” Angela finished, miming quotation marks as she said the word condensation. “That’s your story, right?” Brittany’s jaws worked furiously, but the sounds wouldn’t come out. “And so we can walk back to the freezer section together and find that butt print on the freezer door, right?” Angela asked. “It hasn’t been that long, so it should be pretty obvious where you bumped it. And as wet as your butt got, there’s probably some ‘condensation’ on the floor there, too. So we should have someone clean that up.” Brittany’s glassy eyes began to produce real tears, and they rolled down her blushing cheeks. She furiously searched her brain for anything that might suffice as an explanation, but she came up with nothing. She knew there would be no butt print on the freezer door. She didn’t even know if there was a wet freezer door. She hadn’t bought anything frozen. Brittany squeezed her eyes shut as the tears rolled down. Her chest heaved as she began to sob in earnest. Her nose began to run, and she swiped at her face, wiping snot and tears all at once. She snorted loudly and tried to regain her composure. She said, “I-It was just an accident.” Brittany hung her head and continued to cry. Angela rose from her office chair. She took two steps around the desk and towered over the Little who was dripping tears and snot onto the carpet. She knelt down and put her hand on top of Brittany’s head and began to stroke her hair. Angela kissed Brittany on the side of the head and said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re right. It was just an accident.” Angela said, “I’m not going to report you or try to get you adopted,” She was still stroking Brittany’s hair. She waited while Brittany continued to sniffle. Then she put a hand on Brittany’s shoulder, rose to her full height, and said, “But I do think we should get you out of those wet pants.” Brittany looked up at Angela, eyes and cheeks still wet and red from her crying. “You’re not going to report me?” she asked. Angela reached down and thumbed a bit of snot from under Brittany’s nose. She wiped it on her own sleeve and brushed her hand over Brittany’s head again. “Of course not, sweetie. It was just an accident, right?” Brittany’s lips quivered, still looking at the ground. “Y-yeah.” “No harm, no foul,” Angela said. Angela brushed a tear from Brittany’s cheek. Then she tucked a finger under Brittany’s chin and lifted it gently until their eyes met. “But can we get you into some dry pants?” Brittany’s eyes met Angela’s. Their gazes locked. “Please?” Angela asked. Brittany looked away from Angela. The wet material of her jeans was burning the insides of her thighs. She desperately wanted to sit down and have a good cry, but she couldn’t sit because of her wet pants. And she didn’t want to bicycle home in wet pants — the chaffing and burning. She had done it before. But it wasn’t like it was that often! Brittany shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She could imagine all the crazy expressions that must have been crossing her face as she tried to wrap her head around the predicament she was in. Plus her red eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks. Brittany wiped her cheeks and looked up at Angela again and said, “I guess so.” And then she thought about the situation and said, “But I don’t have any dry clothes with me.” Angela smiled. “I have a few things of my daughter’s in my truck. She’s three, but I think I can find something that will fit you. Shuttling between work and home, you know? It’s easy to forget stuff. Maybe for the best this time.” She chuckled. “You two are about the same size. She’s a pretty big girl for her age.” Brittany grimaced at being compared to a three-year-old. Of course, she had bought plenty of clothes during her time in this place, and she knew she generally had to select her outfits from the toddler section. As with her purse. Brittany thought about it, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. “Look, I know it’s not what you really want,” Angela said. “But it’s got to be better than having to ride around in, well … condensated pants? Condensed pants? I’m not quite sure what the right word is.” She chuckled. Brittany looked back at the ground and tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help herself. The words were so silly. And she could see how gentle Angela was trying to be with her. Angela hadn’t even ruled that Brittany had wet her pants, or that she had lied about it. And Angela wasn’t going to turn her in. She was giving her so many second chances. Brittany looked up and smiled weakly. She said, “I don’t think ‘condensated’ is a real word.” She took a big breath, exhaled, and confessed, “I think you mean I wet my pants. By accident, I mean.” “By accident,” Angela agreed. “But I didn’t say anything about you wetting your pants! There was an accident of some kind, and we’re going to try to fix it. Sound fair?” Brittany locked eyes with Angela again. She looked sad, but she smiled. She said, “Sounds fair.” “Deal,” Angela said. She grabbed her keys from her purse under her desk and said, “Give me just a few minutes. I’m sure I can find something. Just sit tight here.” Then she cocked her head and gave Brittany a wry smile. “Or maybe stand tight.” Brittany repressed a chuckle and sniffed up a snot trail. She’d had no intention of sitting on anything except her bicycle seat in her condition. And she didn’t know how she could come close to laughing in this situation, but her hands had stopped trembling so much. Somehow, Angela, who she feared would judge and condemn her, was putting her at ease. She just wanted to get home and take a long shower. She said, “Yes, ma’am.” Angela nodded, and then left and closed the door behind her. Brittany stood in the office and wondered what in the world she had gotten into. With no place to sit, she decided to look at the various signs around the office. She walked over to one wall and saw a sign. She had to stand on tiptoes to read it, but it was about company culture, and she noticed it had a line about treating “everyone like family.” Brittany thought that was a pretty good way to do things, and she thought Angela must really be taking it seriously. She then noticed the cushioned table again. It was a little taller than she was. She walked over and reached up to touch the top of it. She squeezed the padded material. It was impossibly soft and squishy. She thought maybe it was for naps, though it was smaller than a typical adult in this place. Then she noticed the drawers beneath again. Brittany didn’t dare go through Angela’s desk or rifle through her papers. Angela already could have cited her on multiple charges and possibly even have had her adopted, but she hadn’t. So she was trying to be as above board as possible. But the drawers nagged at her. What harm would it be to take a peek? She looked at the door, and sensing no one was about to come in, she pulled open one of the drawers. It was situated at the bottom of the table at about half her height, so she could look into it easily. Inside, she found disposable diapers printed with flowers and butterflies. Those were the small ones. She saw another stack of bigger ones, printed with cartoon astronauts and aliens. She touched one of the bigger ones, and she fingered the leg gathers. She sighed. She wondered if maybe she could have avoided this whole mess. But she wasn’t a baby! An accident here and there, and that’s all! She opened the second drawer and found baby powder, baby wipes, and skin cream. The bottle of baby powder was turned upside down, and she read the instructions on the back: “For baby: Use at each diaper change. Do not apply near the face. Apply directly into the diaper, or rub gently into the skin.” She was about to read “For Adults:” when she heard the door opening. Brittany immediately slammed the drawer shut. Angela stepped inside with a wad of black cloth in her hands and said, “I found some tights at least.” Brittany’s frightened eyes met Angela’s eyes. Angela glanced past Brittany at the table, and Brittany followed her look. Then Brittany realized the drawer with the diapers was still open. Brittany’s jaw dropped. Angela paused a moment, then smiled at Brittany. Angela walked over to the table. She hovered over Brittany. “Doing a little exploring, I see,” she said. Brittany stammered but couldn’t come up with words. Finally she said, “I’m sorry.” Angela ignored her, set the tights on the table, stepped back, and said, “I’m pretty sure these will fit you. They might be a little small, but we’ll make them work.” Brittany was ready to start crying all over again. At least her eyes glassed over. She thought how kind Angela had been to her already. No condemnation, no citation, no adoption. The tears welled up. Brittany was getting into things she didn’t belong in. And here Angela was bringing Brittany her own daughter’s clothes to wear. All because Brittany had had an accident. And then, Brittany started to sob. “Oh sweetheart!” Angela said. She began to stroke Brittany’s hair with one hand and massage her shoulder with the other. “It’s okay, baby. What’s wrong?” “I-I-I—!” Brittany began to wail. “It’s okay, baby. Just tell me.” Between sobs, Brittany said, “I d-d-didn’t mean t-to have an a-a-accident.” “Oh, I know that, baby!” Angela laughed, then leaned in to kiss Brittany on the cheek. “That’s why they’re called accidents. Otherwise, it would be an on-purpose, wouldn’t it?” Brittany tried to regain her composure. She mopped her face with the inside of her arm, succeeding in smearing snot all over her cheeks and forehead. “I-I guess so,” she said. Angela picked Brittany up under her arms and set her on top of the table. Brittany didn’t resist. Then she reached down and opened the drawer that Brittany had slammed closed moments before. She grabbed the pack of baby wipes and took one out. She used it to mop Brittany’s face. After wiping her face, she pinched the last of the snot out of Brittany’s nose, and then threw it away. “Why are you being so kind to me?” Brittany asked, trying to catch her breath. Angela sighed, shook her head, and gave Brittany a plaintive look. “Because you’re Little,” she said. “Not all of us are that way. Not kind, I should say. Many use whatever tactics they can to pick up a Little girl like you. But I think you Littles are very, very smart. I think you are very, very smart. You just need a little help, here in this place.” Brittany sighed also. She wanted to curl up in bed and cover herself in blankets. “Would you let me help you?” Angela asked. Brittany glanced over at the tights on the table next to her. “I guess so,” she said, picking up the tights. She began to unbuckle her belt and unbutton her jeans. She scooched back on the table, set the tights aside, and rested her head on the pillow to start to wriggle off the tight, wet jeans. “Here, let me help you,” Angela said. Angela tugged at the legs of Brittany’s jeans, and Brittany lifted her bottom out of the air until the jeans were down past her hips. Angela pulled the wet jeans down her legs, tugged the skinny material past Brittany’s ankles, wadded the wet mess into a ball, and put them in a plastic bag. Brittany lay there in a pair of wet, flower-printed panties. “And now these,” Angela said. Before Brittany could say a word, Angela had started pulling the waistband of Brittany’s soaked panties down, peeling them off. Blushing furiously, Brittany allowed Angela to slide her wet panties down past her knees, and she lifted her feet so Angela could slide them off completely. Angela placed the wet bundle in the same plastic bag with Brittany’s pants. Brittany didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t been this exposed in front of anyone since she was a little girl. But she felt cleaner. Less sticky and itchy. She thought of jumping off the table and being done with this. But she couldn’t just steal this woman’s daughter’s pants. And she couldn’t bear to put on her wet clothes. Angela reached down into the drawer Brittany hadn’t closed. She picked out a diaper with astronaut and alien prints. Brittany noticed it was the same one she had touched earlier. Angela unfolded it, fluffed it in the air, and set it next to Brittany on what Brittany now recognized as a changing table. Brittany started to sit up, saying, “But I don’t need—” “Shhhh,” Angela said, putting a giant hand on Brittany’s tiny shoulder and laying her back down. “Yes, you do, sweetie. And it’s okay. Just let me help you, all right?” Brittany wanted to protest, but she was tired. The day’s ordeal had exhausted her. She began to think of times at the mall, when she’d had to run to the bathroom. How big the toilets were and how hard they were to get to. By the time she had gotten situated, she’d already had stains in her panties. She wondered if Angela had seen any in her panties just now. And then there were the clubs, where even half a drink their size was enough to make her squirm. She’d walked out more than once with wet pants, though nobody had noticed in the dark. And now here, in the grocery store. Brittany snapped out of her reverie and realized that Angela was now dusting powder between her legs and on the small of her belly. Angela pulled the diaper up tight between Brittany’s legs and taped it snugly. She gave the front of the diaper a pat, and Brittany blushed. “There we go! All dry!” Angela announced. Brittany marveled at the bulk now between her thighs. She rocked her knees back and forth, and her diaper crinkled. The sweet scent of baby powder wafted up to her nose. She thought of how ripe she had smelled just an hour earlier. “Now let’s get those pants on,” Angela said. Angela slipped Brittany’s feet into the tights and pulled the legs up. Then she swung Brittany’s legs over the side of the changing table and hiked them up to her thighs. She picked Brittany up again under her arms and set her down on the floor. She pulled the tights up over Brittany’s diaper. “Well, a little small, I guess,” Angela said. Even black tights, small as they were, stretched so much over the diaper that the astronaut prints were visible from close up. And they didn’t cover the waistband. The diaper bulge was of course considerable. “But better than nothing,” Angela concluded. Brittany was having a hard time with what she was feeling. On one hand, she felt humiliated. She was 25 years old, and there was no reason she should be wearing a diaper. On the other hand, she was in a very strange world that she didn’t understand. And whether it was gravity or anxiety or any other thing, she had just wet her pants, once again, in public. She knew at least now she wouldn’t have to lie about any accidents. “How about I take you home?” Angela asked. “I assume you either walked here or rode here on a bike. You Littles can’t really drive our cars. Am I right?” “I rode my bike,” Brittany said, chewing at a thumbnail. “No problem,” Angela said. “I have my truck.” She glanced at her watch. “And my shift is just about over. I’m sure I can leave a few minutes early. Let’s see.” Angela took Brittany by the hand and led her out of the room. They went to the service desk where Angela asked the representative on duty to call for the manager. Brittany stood next to the tall, redheaded guard who had been about to ruin her life, and she continued to chew at her thumb while the two waited. Angela picked up Brittany’s groceries out of the buggy she had left by the wall. After a few minutes, the manager arrived. He was a small, thin man with a blonde mustache and a bad comb-over. He wore an apron over his button-up shirt and slacks. He stopped a few feet from Angela and Brittany and put his hands on his hips. He had beady eyes and a hard stare. “Well?” the manager asked. “This Little here had an accident, and I just want to leave a few minutes early to help her get home,” Angela said. “An accident?” the manager replied. “Why wasn’t she wearing a diaper? Is it cleaned up? You’d better be taking her to Little Services,” he huffed. “It was just an accident, Mr. Donaldson,” Angela said. She patted Brittany on the head. “And everything has been taken care of. As you can see, she’s clean and dry.” Mr. Donaldson scowled at Brittany, who hid behind Angela’s legs. He stared for a second at the bulge in Brittany’s tights. Brittany blushed. Mr. Donaldson crossed his arms, and then he glared at Angela. “I don’t brook shenanigans around here. You know that.” Angela lowered her head to hide a smirk at the awkwardly pretentious phrasing. Behind her, gripping her thigh with both arms, Brittany giggled. Angela put her hand on the Brittany’s shoulder to calm her. Angela then lifted her head, her bright green eyes standing in stark contrast to the red mane surrounding her face. She said with a straight face, “I’m taking her into custody right now and delivering her to a proper home.” Then she felt a warmth pressing into the back of her knee. “You’d better be,” Mr. Donaldson said. “And I expect you back here at 6 a.m. sharp.” “Yes, sir,” Angela said. “And thank you, sir.” Mr. Donaldson stalked off, and Angela took Brittany’s hand. “You ready?” Angela asked Brittany. Brittany nodded. Angela took Brittany’s hand and led her out the front door. The same door Brittany had thought she’d never get out of except in handcuffs or in the arms of some abusive foster. Her diapered behind crinkled with every step as Angela led her to the bike rack. “So, which bike is yours?” Angela asked. Brittany pointed at an aqua-colored child’s bike that had the training wheels taken off. It had Little Mermaid designs stenciled on it and a white basket attached to the handlebar. It had tassels on the hand grips, and a little pink flag in back. Angela smiled. Brittany hooked her little unicorn and princess purse around her neck, then unlocked her bike and maneuvered it out of the tangle of other bikes. The pair walked together, Angela with a hand on Brittany’s shoulder, and Brittany with a hand on her bike. They made their way across the parking lot to Angela’s truck, Brittany crinkling all the way. Angela opened the passenger door for Brittany, then picked the bike up and placed it gently into the bed of her truck. Then she loaded Brittany’s groceries. Meanwhile, Brittany was trying to climb into what was a fairly large vehicle for her. As she did so, the stress of the afternoon got to Brittany, and Angela heard the messy accident but said nothing. Instead, Angela lifted her into the seat and buckled her in. “I guess it’s okay for you to ride up front, since you’re not actually a baby,” Angela said. “Uh-huh!” Brittany declared, not realizing she had already both wet and messed herself. Angela closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver’s side. She climbed in, closed the door, and turned the key in the ignition. She adjusted the air conditioning and tuned the radio to a classic rock station. She put the truck in gear and began to back out of the parking lot. Brittany leaned over in Angela’s lap, her diapered butt sticking out prominently, and asked, “Can we go home now, Mommy?” It was Angela’s turn to get tears. She said, “Of course, sweetie. That’s exactly what I had in mind.” They left the parking lot and turned onto the highway. Brittany managed to snuggle in even closer to Angela’s thigh from the passenger seat. “And,” Angela said, patting Brittany’s head, “I think someone might need a diaper change.”

*hugs back*

I spent a busy weekend doing work around the yard - some of it in my own yard, more of it in other people's yards. It was one of those Canadian "smells like Spring" weekends where by most objective standards, it was still "cold" outside - using metal tools without gloves on became uncomfortable after a few minutes. But that's still a big improvement over "became uncomfortable instantly, and became dangerous within a few minutes", which is where we were scant weeks ago. I actually wore sunblock - this side of the planet is now tilted sufficiently towards our radiation provider, that my ghost-white skin can pick up some colour from it. I wore onesies on both days, which used to be fairly common practice for me, but a combination of being busy at work, and it being winter, saw me not doing a lot of athletic bending, kneeling or squatting at other people's houses over the last couple of months, so I've been tending to just wear tucked-in t-shirts and overhanging sweatshirts or sweaters. At home, I don't really practice any diaper security protocols - that cat is well out of the bag. But this weekend, it looked (if not felt) like it might get warm enough to not need a sweater, and I had plans to help fix a fence and assemble a garden shed, so I moved discretion up the priority list a bit. I've been test-driving my BeDry EliteCare stock, trying to figure out if they're a great diaper, or just mediocre. I had one bad experience with one - my first experience - where it leaked earlier than I would have expected for a 10,000 ML ISO product. But since then, I've worn them a bunch of times, and they've been bulletproof, holding more than I expected and not dampening my clothes or my chair. They stood up well to the outdoor manual labour. Despite going up ladders and bending down to the ground like some kind of cross-fit routine, I kind of forgot about my diaper, held in place as it was by my onesie. It was nice to sip beer, get stuff done, and dribble away carelessly in the company of good friends. I even toddled around the house for a while dressed like that - my jeans had muddy knees so I tossed them in our ground-floor washer as soon as I came into the house. I planned to eventually take a shower but was in no hurry to do so, but neither did I want to put other clothing on, when I was painted up with sunblock and dust. The diaper felt like it had a couple of hours in it yet, the onesie was comfy, my kids were out, so made some tea and read the paper looking like a 6-foot, literate toddler, I guess. One place where my diaper security protocols failed me was leaving evidence of my predilection for wearing oversized Pampers on the dining room table. I'd gone down to my basement stash to reup specifically on the EliteCare's, but I still had sufficient other stock in my diaper drawer not to require a full restocking run. I had a stack of three of them in my hand Saturday morning when I got called away from my mission, to try and retrieve lot ear buds from behind a radiator. I put the diapers down on the dining room table on Saturday morning... rescued the ear buds... and then threw a sweatshirt on and went out to the garage, and never came back in the house before leaving. I got home late that evening and ate reheated pizza in the kitchen, took a shower, got into an overnight diaper, and eventually went to bed, having walked by or through the dining room a dozen times, without realizing that next to a stack of books my wife was planning on lending to someone, and a box of coffee pods from Costco, three adult diapers sat in plain view. Sunday, I was out and at it again for most of the day, culminating in the diaper shirt lounging described above, in the early evening, and it wasn't until I went looking for my water bottle, right before turning in for the night, that I rediscovered them. I came walking back up to our room, holding the stack in one hand and my water bottle in the other, and my upon seeing them, my wife said "I didn't know why you'd put those on the table, so I left them there." I explained that I'd forgotten them after bringing them up from the basement, and nothing more was said about it, but I was slightly disturbed. On the one hand, it is somewhat cool (in a use of the term that only we here could fathom) that I now live in a world where a stack of diapers is a ubiquitous and inconsequential as a box of Kleenex or a paperback novel, sitting in some obvious place in the house. IE, it's not like, say, a firearm, or bag of narcotics or the presidential nuclear codes. But on the other hand, I was gone for most of the weekend, so I had no idea who might have paraded through the house in my absence - my kids' friends, my wife's friends, possibly my in-laws... maybe someone she's having an affair with... who knows. SO, while the diaper on the dining room table were clearly my fault, I felt like maybe my wife could have picked them up and thrown them on my bedside table or something. But, seeing as I was wearing a onesie over a swollen diaper, I decided that she had the high ground, so I didn't point that out.

I used to offer to help my mom by dashing off to other aisles to get this or that box of crackers or cereal, or paper towels, and I would always divert up the baby aisle. I eventually scraped up the nerve to ride my bike up to the drugstore in our local strip mall, so that I could drop my saved-up allowance on a cardboard card of diaper pins, which I then used to turn towels and pillow cases into diapers. They were not very effective "protection" - I made plastic pants out of plastic bags but the fit was very ad hoc - however I wore them to bed a lot, and occasionally around the house under my clothes - I loved how they felt even if I couldn't use them very often. I even wore a homemade diaper to school a few times in the 6th grade, which I now realize was bonkers, but at the time was a very exciting prospect.

Chapter 10 : The Most Embarrassing Day of My Life! Welcome back, my JJ Padded Pals. I surely hope that you have changed into a fresh diapey because the very next chapter of my life has got to be the most humiliating experience that I ever had. Forget the accident on the way to Cleveland. Forget the accident in front of my boyfriend Gary at the King of Prussia Mall. Forget the messy fireworks that I experienced on the Fourth of July. The very next thing that I’m about to share will make even the most embarrassing experience that I have had so far seem mild by comparison. Accident at Twinsburg High School? That’s child’s play, my JJ Little Babies. This is your final warning. Make sure that you’re in a dry diaper before reading this, or you’re going to have a bad accident to clean up. You have been warned, my JJ Little Fam. At this point, I’m going to just assume that you have heeded the above warning and I’m going to continue with my story (there’s no helping you naughty babies that kept reading without getting a diaper change). To recap everything from the last chapter, I didn’t even bother to wear my panties the day that I came home with my sister. In having to deal with the added stress of a job interview the next day and my incontinence becoming worse during the trip to Twins Days, I chose diapers over wearing panties for a short time. Besides, I would be wearing diapers for the rest of the day anyway if it were a normal stream day, which it wasn’t since my sister and I just got back from Twinsburg and there was no way that I was going to stream after having a vacation that spanned the length of a long weekend. Although my initial plan was to try re-potty training after getting back from my vacation, the job interview changed all of this. To make things easier for the job interview, I delayed my re-potty training and wore diapers all day, as my toileting could take a back seat if I am to prepare for a job that could very well change my life. Being an evening news anchor would be a very big thing for me if I were to get the position. But then an anxious thought entered my mind regarding the possibility of getting the job. How would I be able to hide my diapers at work? There would be no way that I could dress in any outfit that would clearly reveal the outline of my diaper. I am hoping that they would have an ankle length skirt that would look professional so that it would be able to hide any noticeable bulge. I would even need an outfit like this for the interview, as wearing panties to the interview would clearly be a recipe for disaster. There would be no doubt in my mind that they would give me a rejection if I were to have an accident right in front of them. What kind of person in their right mind would hire an anchor woman who can’t even control her own bladder? This then needed to be a situation that I needed to avoid right away. I feared that the absorbency of my Certainty Unisex Fitted Briefs was not enough to handle a large accident if I were to experience one during the interview. To address this problem, I made another trip to Walgreens while Jen was at work. And no, I didn’t do Pilates with her or any kind of exercise as I wanted to focus solely on the interview with CBS Philadelphia before I resumed my normal schedule. At Walgreens, I bought a bag of Size 7 Huggies Overnight Diapers. Now I know what you’re thinking. Jillian, there is no way that you can actually fit into a baby diaper. Well, my JJ Fam, there was obviously no way that I could wear the diaper alone. From what I have read on different forums, a Size 7 should fit a child with a 21–22-inch waist. Since I have a 32-inch waist, there is no way that this diaper was going to fit me. But those forums gave me another idea when I saw that some of the users were using baby diapers as doublers or stuffers. This would allow my diaper to hold one massive wetting in the Huggies diaper before it ended up leaking into my other diaper. With this being the case, I bought the Size 7 Huggies Overnight Diapers. With there being 13 diapers in one bag, that should be more than enough to handle my interview for today. I brought the diapers home and began putting my plan into motion. Since I wanted to practice my interviewing questions and answers, I wanted to prepare my diaper ahead of time before the interview. I entered my room and laid out another Certainty Unisex Fitted Brief. I folded it open and peeled open the back waist band with the two wide tapes and the front waist band. I then opened the bag of Size 7 Huggies Overnight Diapers and pulled out a diaper. I felt the crispness of the diaper as I opened the cloth backing, which felt more durable than my diaper, since this was a baby diaper intended for overnight wettings. I opened the front wings that lined the front of the waist band and peeled open the back wings, which had the two Velcro tapes. I stretched the diaper a few times and fluffed it before sitting it down over the opened-up Certainty diaper. I carefully ran my fingers along the leg cuffs of the Huggies diaper and pulled the cuffs outward. With my diaper now ready to wear for my interview later on, I spent the rest of the time preparing for it. The only exception was a short break where I made a brief lunch for myself. I cooked 15 Pepperoni Pizza Rolls in the microwave and had them with a couple of handfuls of Cheetos. I would save dessert for after the interview as I felt that my dessert had to be earned on a day like this. After lunch, I walked over to the kitchen sink and washed the Cheetle (Cheeto residue) off my fingers. Rather than licking the Cheetle off of my fingers, I didn’t have time to do that today. With my interview at 1:00, it was now 12:04. I only had about an hour to go, and another 15 minutes to prepare before I began dressing myself for the interview. That time went by so fast and before I knew it, I was laying on the floor in just my bra with both diapers (heavily powdered) between my legs. I folded the Huggies diaper first so that it covered my waist. I then folded my larger diaper over and pinched both diapers together as I sat up. I fastened the wide tapes of my Certainty diaper and then began resituating the Huggies diaper stuffer inside until it completely covered my crotch. The waistline of the Huggies diaper was perfectly lined up with the Certainty diaper on the outside. I pulled out the leg cuffs of the Huggies diaper again just to be sure that they were situated correctly and tugged on both of the Huggies diaper tapes so that they were sticking out of both my legs. I peeled open each tape and fastened the Velcro to both sides of my cloth backed diaper butt. That all the more reminded me of the wonderful advantage of cloth backed diapers. I didn’t need Velcro for the landing zone as the Velcro tapes will even stick to the cloth backing. Now comfortably diapered, I took my soggy diaper from lunch and stuffed it in a scented garbage bag that I had sitting in the closet. My hand washing routine after diaper changes followed. I then put on a dark grey ankle length skirt. I then put on a black collared blouse over my bra and then put on a dark grey suit jacket that matched the color of my skirt. It was basically the same outfit that I wore during my internship in Cleveland. I put on black pumps and grabbed a file folder, a small notebook, and a couple pens in case I needed to take notes. I stuffed these items in my smaller purse and grabbed my car keys. From what Google told me, CBS Philadelphia only took 3 minutes to get there by car. With it being 12:24, I practiced interviewing for another 15 minutes. I then drove out of the parking deck and drove to CBS Philadelphia for the interview. I went down North 15th Street and took a right onto Arch Street. Then a right onto North 16th Street. I followed this road for about six city blocks before I arrived at the news studio. I was a little nervous, but I took a deep breath and swallowed. Should any kind of accident happen at all during the interview, I was wearing a diaper with a stuffer, and no one would even know that I had the accident. I got out of the car and grabbed my purse, making sure to keep my cell phone in there during the interview at all times, and that my cell phone was put on silent. I checked my skirt below to make sure that there was no noticeable bulge in my diaper. While this was not the case, I did notice a soft crinkling sound that I only heard when I was walking. I am hoping that nobody at the interview notices that sound. I walked forward towards the CBS Philadelphia studio and entered the doors, hoping that a new future awaited behind it. About an hour and a half later, the interview was over. Any kind of nervousness that I had before entering the building immediately melted away when I saw Melinda Thompson, the hiring manager and news director for CBS Philadelphia (KYW-TV). Melinda was more than happy to see me, and she wasted no time in escorting me to a small board room that had four other people dressed professionally. Two of them were men and the other two were women, and they all worked for Melinda. One of the women in the board room was Lindsey Croft, a news producer that was responsible for creating all of the news stories and organizing them for all of the journalists. Edward Toft was the Sales Manager and was responsible for working with different clients to sell all the station’s available commercial time. Martin Brady was the current news anchor that is serving on the interim due to a tragic event that happened to the previous news anchor. Finally, Allison McDonald was the President and General Manager of CBS KYW-TV and WPSG Philadelphia. While she didn’t really ask any questions, she was only there to observe all the interview candidates while Melinda led the interview. The interview format rotated between Melinda, Lindsey, Edward, and Martin, with Allison giving her remarks every now and then, before making a few brief notes on the notepad. In a lot of my answers, I described different job related scenarios at my internship at WOIO (Channel 19), a CBS News affiliate serving the Cleveland area in Shaker Heights. They all looked very impressed with my answers and really loved the kind of energy that I brought to the room. I didn’t really think much of it, as this was the way that I normally conducted myself in a newsroom. I am always nervous until I end up meeting the people that I’m talking to. After that, I am very comfortable in front of any audience. After they spent an hour grilling me with challenging questions, the time came for me to ask them any questions that I may have. I had my question list boiled down to only 10, as I only wanted to ask the most important questions when it came to working at KYW-TV. A few of the questions had to do with onboarding, vacation, employee development, continued education, knowledge transfer and training (considering that I found out that the former news anchor was killed in a fatal car accident), and other similar questions. I then gave my closing remarks and thanked everyone there for their time. After 30 minutes of asking them questions, Melinda, still looking very impressed, gave her closing remarks, as did Lindsey, Edward, and Martin. To make me feel even happier, Allison spoke up. “We would love to have you as a part of our team.” Allison said, looking very pleased. Following Allison’s remark, I heard a “But…” from Melinda. While I did do very well in the interview, they still needed to interview three more candidates. They would provide me with their final decision by Tuesday, which would leave me wondering the entire weekend. I asked for every one of their business cards on the way out so that I could write a thank you letter, which I could almost hand deliver to the news station considering how I am in such close proximity to CBS Philadelphia. Melinda thanked me again for my time and she kindly escorted me to the entrance of the news studio. When I got back to the car, I immediately checked my diaper. Sure enough, the Huggies diaper was completely soaked. I must have been so focused in talking to them during the interview that I didn’t even realize that my bladder was releasing. It’s a very good thing that I wore that stuffer as I would’ve surely risked a leak if I wore just my normal diaper without it. After I got back to the apartment, I immediately wrote the thank you letter and mailed it. I then ate my well-deserved prize of sweet chocolatey goodness: a Little Debbie fudge round. I devoured that sweet chocolate sandwich in mere seconds and then prepared for my stream, which would be starting at around 3:00. For today’s stream, I pretty much kept it simple having just come back from the Twins Days Festival. I basically streamed Animal Crossing: New Horizons the whole time and made some more progress on my Island. I also invited the chat to post their islands and I visited a few of theirs. Like usual, I changed my diaper during the stream breaks and talked to Jen about how the interview went. When Jen heard how well I thought that I did, she clutched both of my arms and smiled. “Oh Jill,” she said. “I surely hope that you get that job.” I nodded. “I hope that I get the job too…” I resumed the stream and played Animal Crossing until 9:00. I discussed a possible change in the streaming schedule should I get the job with CBS Philadelphia. I then closed the stream for the night. I then got ready for bed, and I diapered myself with my normal diaper, plus a Huggies Overnight as a stuffer. I had only 68 diapers left before I ran out of the Certainty Unisex Fitted Briefs. I said good night to my sister and went to bed, feeling the rustling of my diaper as I got into bed… Over the next few days, I began trying to re-potty train myself, but was met with very frustrating results. Almost every time that I tried to make it to the toilet, I always ended up peeing all over the tiling on the bathroom floor, or even worse, the carpeting if I was further away from the bathroom. The Kegel exercises were not working and staying fully hydrated only made my bladder accidents more frequent. Whenever I was deep in thought or fully focused, I always ended up pissing myself. By the time that I got to Friday morning, I was sick of having accident after accident with no way to have any control over my bladder. Completely frustrated, I called a doctor’s office through the Penn Medicine University of Pennsylvania Health System and set up a physical checkup. The next available appointment was August 28th so I could not do anything about this problem until then. Jen too was getting very tired of all my frequent accidents. All the numerous pee stains made it impossible to get a cleaning service to clean the carpet. That Friday, my twin sister put her foot down. After work, she grabbed me by the arms and gave me a serious stare. “Jill!” she shouted. “I know that you are trying to re-potty train yourself. But do you know what? It’s not working! All you’re doing is getting pee all over the apartment. I have lost count of how many pee stains that you have left on the carpet over the past few days. No more panties, Jill. You will need to wear diapers until you are able to get into a doctor…” My cheeks turned red, and my eyes began to well up in tears. “But I don’t want to wear diapers for the rest of my life!” I wailed. “I thought this was only a temporary thing. Something that I could just ride out until I could fix it. So, I went along with it, but my bladder is not on board with me…*sniff* *sniff*” Jen gave me a hug and wiped a few tears out of her eyes. “Jill, I also wanted it to be temporary. But do you know what? It’s a problem that you still have to deal with. Will there be a solution from the doctor? We don’t know. All you can do is live each day a day at a time. Why don’t you try that, Jill? Okay?” I nodded as I continued to cry into my twin sister’s arms. That Saturday, Gary took me on another date. When I told him about my worsening incontinence, he gave me a big hug. I cried into his chest as he hugged me for 20 minutes before we even entered the King of Prussia Mall. When I told him about the Huggies that I used for doublers, he told me that while it was a good temporary fix, it just wouldn’t do. He shifted the topic to offer suggestions for a stronger and more absorbent diaper that could handle my heavier wettings. Gary found a website on his cellphone and showed it to me. “Here it is, Jill. Trest.” I looked at the website that Gary was showing me. It featured a display of different diapers in five different colors: Blue, Pink, White, Green, and Purple. Instead of having two wide tapes, it had four plastic tapes with a thick plastic backing. “9500 mL…” Gary told me. “Now what are those Certainty briefs you are wearing?” I sighed. “Some online sources that I have read has the absorbency at around 1200 mL…” Gary gasped. “Well, that settles it. Use up the rest of those and don’t get anymore. I’m ordering 15 bags of Trest. What color do you want?” “Pink.” I muttered with my face to the floor. Gary then eyed my waistline. “And, they have a small and medium. Medium might be better, as small would be a little snug on you…” “Fine…” I said with my arms crossed. “Get more diapers for Baby Jill…” Gary gave me a look of concern and patted me on the arm. “Jill, you need to just go through with it. I told you about my younger sister, Susan, right? Well, Susan also hated wearing diapers. She had that same attitude that you’re having right now, so I totally get the frustration.” “But…” I told Gary while pouting. “Susan only had to wear diapers until she was nine. How long will I need diapers?” Gary looked at me and hugged me. “Jill, I don’t know. That’s why you’re going to a doctor for a checkup. It’s on the 28th, right?” I nodded. “Let’s just go into the mall.” I unzipped my backpack purse that Gary bought me for Twins Days. I now have decided to give it the nickname diaper bag because that’s all I basically use it for. I showed Gary the four diapers and changing supplies that were in the bag. “See Gary? Plenty of diapers. Let’s go inside now…” “It will be okay Jill,” Gary said, trying to reassure me. For the next three hours, Gary and I wandered around in King of Prussia Mall. And like any good boyfriend, he spoiled me with more clothing purchases. Another skirt, a couple more pajama sets from Nordstrom, and one more swimsuit. After the two hours of shopping, we ate at Legal Sea Foods and I ordered the usual, only I ate my Lobster Mac and Cheese at the restaurant this time instead of ordering it to go. While Gary was waiting for the bill to arrive, I retreated to a bathroom stall to change my diaper. It was the second time that I had to change my diaper while at the mall. The first time was right after we shopped at Nordstrom. Like the diaper before this one, it was another soaked diaper. With my track record of soaking so many diapers without any conscious effort, I am totally convinced that I have virtually no bladder control anymore. For all I know, my bladder muscles could have atrophied, which would clearly explain my sudden loss of bladder control over the past month. I don’t even remember when I pee my diaper anymore. Whenever it happens, I just notice the sensation of it when it occurs instead of my brain sending a signal to my bladder indicating when I have to pee. I get that feeling every now and then, but it is starting to become more rare. This idea of trying to re-potty train myself is starting to become more like wishful thinking at this point. I removed the soaked diaper and carefully sat it on the toilet paper dispenser while I got out a new diaper. I quickly went through the diapering routine and fastened both wide tapes onto a new Certainty diaper. While I’m beginning to miss my panties, I guess that diapers are going to be my new underwear now. At least for now, I hoped. I pulled my skirt back down so that it covered my ankles again and placed the soaked diaper into a plastic back before placing it back into my diaper bag to dispose of it at a later time. This will be when Gary takes me back to his place, as he didn’t mind me disposing my diapers in his trash. I exited the bathroom and Gary already had the bill paid with the tip included. We both left the restaurant and made our way back to the parking lot. Once back at Gary’s place, he showed me a few more retro games on the NES before he got out another one of his retro consoles: the SNES. While I have played a lot of the NES games, I haven’t really gotten into the SNES library yet. Gary showed me Super Mario World, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, and Super Mario RPG. Having played all three Super Mario Bros. games plus the Lost Levels, I really wanted to start playing some SNES games. The SNES Legend of Zelda was also fun to watch. I have beaten both quests of Legend of Zelda and have even managed to beat the very hard Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (both Thunderbird and Dark Link took me forever, even with save states). Now Super Mario RPG was exciting since I never played an RPG before. After Gary showed me the games, he went upstairs and began his GaretheBear stream on Twitch. This time, I decided to show my face. Gary told them that I had a streaming channel called JillianPlays and that they should go and follow me. I then made the shameless plug that my streams were Monday through Friday from 3:00 PM to 9:00 PM. Gary was now very far into Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom at this point. He had a lot of heart containers and was spending a lot of time in the sky, going to various different shrines. There was another raid, but it wasn’t as big as the one that I saw the last time. Most of my dates with Gary have either been at the mall, at the movies, or at a restaurant. Every once in a while, I was at his house, but I didn’t participate in his streams, until tonight. In the middle of the stream, I excused myself to go into the bathroom to change my diaper. I only told the stream that I had to use the bathroom, but they didn’t know about my toileting issues. After a couple hours, Gary ended his stream and took me back to my apartment. I said good night to my sister, and I got ready for bed. I put on a new diaper. I had only 48 diapers left, and with me using about 5 diapers per day now, I would now be going through about 35 diapers per week. This would mean that I would be through my remaining diapers in about a couple weeks and will be able to start using the new Trest diapers in time for my doctor’s appointment on the 28th. Sunday was just another day. While my sister went to church with Joey, I once again didn’t want to go. I was too upset about my incontinence to want to go. Besides, how would I manage my diaper changes at church? Monday came at last. For today’s Monday outfit, I decided to wear a pair of grey jogging pants for a change. While my diaper peeked out a little bit past my waist, the shirt that I had on was big enough to cover the diaper. I was ready for another week, as I would be able to find out whether or not I got the job at CBS Philadelphia. While I was uncertain about my job prospects, I kept searching for work just in case I got a rejection from the interview. Besides that, Monday was very slow for job prospects. I had my lunch and continued searching until 2:00. There wasn’t a single job to apply for today. I got ready for another stream and checked my stats from last week. Between the new follows that I got during the week, and my shameless plug on GaretheBear’s stream, I gained 77 new followers and 35 new Tier 1 subs. Starting today, that would change, as I finally have all the emotes where I want them. With that being the case, both Tier 2 and Tier 3 are now officially available. Glytter is also in the process of working on a bit-emote called JillianGolden (an animated me, but flashing in solid gold). For anyone to unlock JillianGolden, they will need to donate at least a total of 100,000 bits. There are also a couple of lesser bit-emotes that she is also working on that will unlock at 1,000 and 5,000 bits, but she hasn’t made them yet. For today’s stream, I was very excited as I knew exactly what game I was going to play next. I was going to play Super Mario World. I may play it the entire stream, depending on how long it will take to get through everything. Before I knew it, it was about 5 minutes to 3:00. I got all my drinks ready and clicked the “Go Live” button on Twitch. While it was on the “Starting Soon” scene, I made sure that I pulled my shirt over my diaper, since it was situated in a weird way where it would’ve revealed my diaper if I didn’t fix it. With my shirt now fixed, I waited five more minutes before I started the stream. I started the stream with Just Chatting, and asked everyone how their weekend went. I introduced the Tier 2 and Tier 3 subscriptions, but it was no surprise that I didn’t get any right away. After chatting for another 20 minutes, I just started into Super Mario World. Within the first hour, I managed to complete Yoshi’s Island and was about halfway through Donut Plains. At this point, I decided to take a break. I got up, went to the bathroom, and changed into a new diaper. Like usual, my diaper was soaking wet from all the water that I drank toward the beginning of the stream. I also drank a can of Mountain Dew so I believe that it had more to do with that than the water. After another diaper change, I walked back into the room and approached my desk. I stood there for a few seconds and then saw something that made my heart sink. The front waist of my diaper was sticking out of my jogging pants and was in clear view of the camera for every one of the Twitch audience to see. And with there being 64 currently in the audience, that is like standing in front of 64 people. I quickly sat down with my face burning red, hoping that nobody saw my diaper. I checked the chat window just to be sure. But my greatest fears were fully realized when I saw the numerous comments in the chat: MewMewGirl1998: Diaper…JillianGasp SacredSteve: Huh? A diaper? Madelroxasis: Is that a diaper? JillianGasp JillianGasp JillianGasp PrettyCakeCatGirl: Is Jillian wearing a diaper? Radsonicfan94: I saw it! Right before she sat down…a diaper! Midnightmistress: So did I! KitdeliciousKat: Me too! MewMewGirl1998: Jillian do you have a problem? LforLuigi95: Or is she just lazy? MewMewGirl1998: Lazy? No. Not all people who wear diapers are lazy Luigi. SpicySparkleSteph: What did I miss? PrettyCakeCatGirl: You missed Jillian wearing a diaper. SpicySparkleSteph: WHAAAAAT? Jillian wears diapers? TacoBill: But don’t babies wear diapers? MewMewGirl1998: No Bill People with bladder problems also wear diapers. ItsaLee: I missed it. Jillian was in a diaper? (Mod Badge) Glytter: Everyone. Enough. (Mod Badge) PrettyPanda89: Can we please drop the whole diaper thing with Jillian? I don’t want to force any timeouts. (Mod Badge) TinyTrish: Everyone. We get it. Let’s discuss this matter no more, okay? MewMewGirl1998: Got it! No more mention of the D-word everyone! I was silently relieved that my three mods managed to silence the chat regarding my embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. But that did not change the fact that more than 60 people caught a brief glimpse of me wearing a diaper. And the ones that missed it were reminded of it. I resumed playing Super Mario World for a couple of levels before telling the entire stream that I needed to take another break. It wasn’t that I needed a diaper change this time, but that I was so embarrassed about what just happened that I couldn’t even focus on the stream right now. I just could not believe it. Now my normal JillianPlays audience knows that I wear diapers. Is it really their business to know? My accidental flashing of my diaper has gotten me very upset. And it really wasn’t an actual flash, as the diaper only peeked a little bit out of my pants, and I didn’t pull down my pants to expose my full diaper to them. So if anything, it was only a partial flash. I noticed a few whispers coming into my feed. Fortunately, I have my whisper settings so that I would have to approve them before they could even whisper me. I noticed one approved whisper from Glytter. I read it out to myself: Glytter: You should appoint MewMewGirl1998 as a new mod. She would do a wonderful job. Also, I will want to talk to you about the diaper thing after stream if you have a few minutes. Is that okay? “Yes it is.” I typed, before sending my whisper back to Glytter. From the embarrassment that I had to endure, I took another half hour before I returned back to the stream. I decided to resume for a little while and finished Donut Plains. A few hours later, I was working on the first few levels of Vanilla Dome. After finishing the last level before going out to the pipe at the top, I decided to end the stream an hour early, due to the embarrassment that I had to deal with today. I decided that I would appoint MewMewGirl1998 as a mod on the next stream that I have. With the stream over, it was only a few seconds before I saw my cellphone ringing and seeing Glytter on the caller ID. “Hello?” I answered. “Hi Jill! How are you doing tonight? Are you doing okay?” I sighed. “What do you think? You clearly saw what happened…” “Yes Jill. I saw the whole thing! You were standing in your chair for just a few seconds. And then you started to look a little nervous. I’m sure that it was because of a little bit of your diaper was peeking out of your pants. And since you were so embarrassed, you sat down quickly! It was a white diaper. The cheap kind that you find at a pharmacy. I’m sorry, Jill but with a photographic memory like mine, there are so many details about that moment that I cannot unsee.” I sighed. “It’s okay. I should’ve been more careful about hiding it.” “Jill, I don’t mean to pry into your personal life, but that diaper was on public display for us to see for a couple of seconds. Can you at least tell me why you are wearing a diaper? I know you’re not wearing it to be lazy. So, is it for convenience or incontinence?” “Incontinence,” I softly muttered. “It has gotten worse over the past month, and I have scheduled a doctor’s appointment to look into the matter.” “Incontinence? Well, it’s a very difficult thing to live with, but doable. To be forthcoming and very personal, I am also incontinent. My incontinence began when I was five years old. When did your incontinence began, and dare I say, how?” “You are not going to believe this,” I told Glytter. “But it actually began back in June, when I first moved to Philadelphia to go live with my sister. They invited me to a very fancy restaurant and treated me to my own bottle of wine. It was red wine and I got very drunk. Everything else was a blur that evening but I remember waking up seeing vomit all over the floor in my room. I was also covered in pee. Since that night, I have been wetting the bed and eventually needed to wear diapers. I didn’t know wine could make me incontinent. Weird huh?” “Jill, I don’t think it was the wine.” I sighed. “That’s what my sister told me. If it’s not the wine, what is it?” “Think about every detail that happened that night that you got drunk. Yes, the wine could’ve made you have that one accident, but the effects should long have worn off by now. Can you remember anything from that night?” I shook my head. “I remember the restaurant, and then I remember waking up in vomit and pee. I blacked out for everything else.” “Well, did your sister help you get home? Ask her about what she saw, for something might have happened that night. Something that you can’t remember.” I nodded. “I’ll ask her tomorrow when she gets off of work. Now, how did you lose your continence at five?” “Well, it’s something that I totally regret now, but it’s not anything that I can undo. My silly immature five-year-old self just didn’t want to get potty trained…period. Since I was two, I just didn’t want to learn. As to why I didn’t want to learn, I can’t tell you that yet.” I frowned. “Why Glytter?” “Well, let’s just say that it has something to do with my dwarfism. Anyway, since I was two, I firmly resisted the potty. My mother always tried to potty train me again every new birthday, but I didn’t want to go. And as the years went by of me always letting go of my bladder, I started to find it harder to hold anything in. My peeing was so automatic that I couldn’t even tell when I was peeing anymore…” I gasped. “That’s exactly what’s going on with me.” “it is, Jill? Could you be experiencing atrophy in your bladder muscles? I still would get an opinion from your doctor though. Are you getting a checkup?” I nodded. “Yes.” “See a urologist and have them check you out. The one that I see every year always tells me that my bladder muscles don’t work. If you still have any feeling in your bladder muscles, there is still hope for you. Also, one more thing before we hang up.” I nodded. “Yes Glytter?” “Can you give me your address? There is something that I really want to send to you. I can’t tell you what it is, but I know that you will like it.” “Sure.” I gave Glytter my address at Metro City Apartments in Philadelphia. “Thanks Jill! I will order it tonight. It should be there in a few days…Good night, Jill!” “Good night, Glytter!” I hung up the phone. I then talked to my sister and said good night to her. I already had dinner during that half hour break that I took during the stream. I diapered myself and got in my bed. I then fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day… As I got up on that Tuesday, it started off as any normal day would, except for the fact that I was now resigned to the fate of the worsening condition of my bladder. I was now beginning my fourth consecutive day of wearing diapers 24/7. I could no longer make this a choice as my bladder accidents have made diapers absolutely necessary from my failed attempts to re-potty train myself. And to make matters worse, my normal Twitch audience is now fully aware of my diapers and there is no way to undo the unfortunate event that happened yesterday. And if that were not embarrassing and frustrating enough, I am now finding myself having accidents right in the middle of my diaper changes. I think that I am in the clear to change my diaper when I find myself peeing trickles of pee out, forcing me to press the front of my diaper against my waist to hold in the pee before I can even properly fasten the diaper around myself. To try to resolve this problem, I have often made frequent checks to see if I feel any new drops of pee coming into my diaper before I take it off and change into a new one. Considering that Glytter told me that she was also incontinent, I may talk to her and find out how she manages these frustrating diaper changes. I may very well need to have a plastic mat over my whole room or just change in the bathroom to prevent any more accidents while changing. Or I could get a changing mat to catch any pee that may escape. I got through all of my morning routine. Shower, new diaper, clothing, and then breakfast before beginning my job search. It was now 8:47 AM and I was just entering my bedroom to begin my job search when I got a incoming call on my cellphone. The caller ID read CBS Philadelphia. Oh. My. Gosh. Could this be the call that I’m waiting for? I swiped the answer button. “Hello?” “Am I speaking to Jillian Jenners?” the voice asked me. “This is…” I told her. “This is Melinda Thompson, vice president and News Director for CBS Philadelphia. How are you doing this morning?” “Great…” I told her. “That’s good to hear. Now this call is regarding the interview that you had this last week. Having interviewed all the candidates, we would like to congratulate you and have you on board as the newest member of our team.” My heart skipped a beat, and I felt so happy that I was beginning to cry tears of joy. “That’s…great…” “From the first time that we saw your credentials, I knew that we just had to get you on board. And when we checked with WOIO in Cleveland, they spoke very well of you, and it made it even easier for us to make our decision. Are you okay, Miss Jenners?” “Yes!” I cried. “I’m just so happy!” “That is wonderful to hear, Miss Jenners. Let all that joy come out. Now, here is what is going to happen next. I have already contacted HR, and they have prepared the job offer. Review it carefully and let me know if you have any questions. Once you have carefully reviewed it, contact me and let me know if you are going to accept or reject the offer. The salary should reflect what you should expect at the degree that you have earned. There are opportunities for promotions and wages, and we will fully fund your schooling if you would like to go for a Master’s degree in communications and broadcasting. If you want my opinion, I would go for the degree, as it would give you a much higher salary.” I tried to respond to what Melinda just told me, but all I could do was cry happy tears. Finally, I managed to choke out a few more words. “That’s…great. I will look at the offer and let you know! *sob* *sniff*” “Take your time, Miss Jenners. I know that this is a very important decision and given careful consideration and time, we know that you’ll make the right one. Enjoy the rest of your day and contact me once you have made your decision.” I grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears out of my eyes before blowing my nose. “I will! Talk to you later Melinda!” “Same to you, Miss Jenners. Goodbye!” I hung up, and continued happily sobbing about my new job opportunity that was finally within my grasp. I got into my computer chair and checked the emails. Sure enough, there was a email from CBS Philadelphia that had the congratulation and job offer in it. I opened the PDF attachment and found the official offer. The Position was Evening News Anchor, and the base salary was $56,532. Considering that Melinda told me about pursuing a Master’s degree in Communications and Broadcasting, I definitely wanted to consider this, as the salary for this position was nowhere near the $148,000 that my twin sister was making as a CPA at Conway, Phillips, & Associates. I would guess that I would need the kind of job that Melinda or Allison had to start making six figures. The Master’s Degree would definitely give me a good salary as an anchor but I would need to start leading people if I really wanted to make the big bucks. I continued looking at the other details of the offer. If hired, I would be given a certain percentage of equity in the company. They would also match my 401K contributions up to 4%. A 3% wage increase was guaranteed if my performance was satisfactory and a 5% wage increase would be rewarded if my performance was outstanding. A yearly bonus would be rewarded if CBS Philadelphia performed well. This payout would be matched against my performance and months spent on the grid (which would only be about 3 months, if hired in mid-August). I would be given 10 days of paid vacation, with an extra day of paid vacation added every year. My health insurance would be Blue Cross Blue Shield if hired. Before I could even continue looking at the offer, I saw my cellphone vibrating on the computer desk table. BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! I checked the caller ID to see that it was an incoming call from Glytter. I swiped the answer button. “Hello? Glytter?” “Yes?” I asked, sounding very surprised at the tone of Glytter’s voice. She sounded very upset. “What is it?” “Go to your TikTok right now. You are NOT going to like what you’re about to see.” I opened my TikTok app and the very first thing that I saw was what was under the trending video section. It showed a video thumbnail of me from the stream that I recorded yesterday. I was standing in my grey jogging pants, with the front of my diaper peeking out. “No…” I said in disbelief. “No no no no no no no no no!!! Why the fuck would they do this?” I could hear a gasp coming from Glytter as I held the receiver to my ear. “Just calm down, Jill…” But I couldn’t calm down. Upon closer inspection of the TikTok video, I saw that the video had 26,000 views and 5,000 likes. A second later, that updated to 27,000 views and 5,200 likes. The video was titled “Diaper Girl” and it was just 35 seconds long. I clicked on the video, and I just couldn’t believe what I saw. The video consisted of a repeated loop of me standing, before crouching and standing again. After it played the clip of me crouching, that clip played in reverse to give the illusion of me “standing back up”. The video was zoomed in so that everyone would clearly see the diaper that was peeking out from underneath my jogging pants. And here’s the worst part. A music clip from Salt-N-Pepa’s Push It! (TMW Remix) was playing. The beginning of the song played with the refrain repeating “Ooh, baby baby, baby baby, Ooh baby baby, ba-baby baby…” The song was perfectly synced to my standing and crouching animation. I turned off the video. I just couldn’t watch it anymore. My cheeks were now burning, and I began crying. The embarrassing incident of what happened yesterday was now made a lot worse. What was supposed to be a minor one-off incident has now blown up into a stupid meme. I screamed, now embarrassed and upset. “Who is the sick and twisted fuck who posted this?” I shouted. “Oh!!!! I want to beat the shit out of them!” Glytter was still on the phone. “Jill! Jill! Calm down! We will sort through this. You don’t even need to stream tonight…” “But I WANT to stream tonight!” I protested in a loud shriek. “I need the video games tonight to take my mind off of this nightmare…” I glanced at the home page of TikTok again. The Diaper Girl video was still trending and was now at 31,000 views and 5,800 likes. I clicked on the video and paused it to avoid hearing the music played to the cringy animation. That’s where I saw something that made my heart sink. Right below where I was in my crouch/stand animation, the link to my JillianPlays Twitch profile was clearly visible. “No!” I shouted. “Now the sick bastards are going to invade my Twitch account!” “Jill! Relax. We’re going to ban anyone who does something inappropriate. We can even make diaper a banned word. Now, are you going to appoint MewMewGirl1998 as a mod? She seems very capable. I have already PM’d her and she sounds very interested.” “Yes,” I told Glytter, sounding annoyed. “Over the next few days, we’re going to need a lot of mods. Can you help with the vetting? I will appoint them.” I glanced and checked the trending page on TikTok again. Diaper Girl was now at 50,000 views and 7,000 likes. “We’ll talk in a few hours when my stream starts at 3:00. I’m going to need a nice video game to take my mind off of this.” “And you’re going to get that, Jill. Don’t worry about the weirdos. Us mods will take care of them. I would also suggest that you include a new rule in your about page about this matter.” I nodded. “I will just warn them that there will be no discussion about my special problem, or they WILL be banned.” “Okay. Sorry that this is happening, Jill. Talk to you later! Bye!” I hung up and glanced back at the job offer that was still open. I then got onto Twitch and checked to see if anything has changed since the TikTok video that was apparently uploaded last night, according to the details that were listed on the TikTok video. When my stream ended last night, the number of followers was around 156. The current number of followers is now around 659. I gained 500 more followers overnight! I then saw a backlog that made my jaw drop. 85 new subs awaited to be played the next time my stream went live. 57 new Tier 1 subs, 20 new Tier 2 subs, and 8 Tier 3 subs. I then glanced back at the job offer that was given to me by CBS Philadelphia. I now had my doubts in deciding to accept the job offer. I was in a Catch 22. If I accept the job offer and get hired at CBS Philadelphia, that TikTok video of me in diapers could go viral and the news story would eventually be picked up by the AP wire before it would be broadcasted on the local news. This embarrassing revelation would leave a sour taste in the mouths of the news team and would make the situation awkward to work around me. I would then get fired after just starting a new job. If I reject the offer, I am still jobless, and this whole hype with the Diaper Girl video would only give me 15 seconds of fame. After that fame dies out, I would once again go back to being an underpaid Twitch streamer. But the very thought of the video still made me very angry. This really was the most embarrassing day of my life. Tens of thousands of people all get to enjoy the newest meme. A 21-year-old woman with a barely exposed diaper peeking out of her jogging pants performing a standing and crouching dance to a provocative song from the 1980’s. I glanced at the trending page on TikTok again. Diaper Girl now had 60,000 views and 7,600 likes. Hours later, I began gearing up for my stream. At this point, Glytter managed to find another 20 members that all engaged with my stream on a regular basis. She sent out a group message, inviting all of them to become mods for JillianPlays. They all agreed, and from what Glytter told me, they all knew why they were becoming mods due to the recent happening with the unfortunate upload of an embarrassing TikTok video. Seriously. I want to beat the living shit out of the person who created that TikTok video! Prior to the stream starting, I had all of the mods get on early, and the candidates also joined them. I mass appointed 20 more mods and Glytter helped get a Mod bot online to help with the crowd control. I clicked the “Go Live” button, having no idea what was about to happen. The stream was now on the Starting Soon scene, and I heard a series of sub alerts go off for every one of the 85 new subs from earlier. Another 47 joined them, giving me a total of 132 subs on this day alone. As I was hearing the round of 132 sub alerts, I saw an explosion of comments in the chat, mentioning Diaper Girl or requests to see my diaper. One disgusting comment wanted me to send them my used diaper. Every one of these users were put in timeout and were given only one warning, as the mods would ban them at the very next violation. I watched as a flurry of users were being put into timeout due to their use of the word “diaper”. When I saw the audience, my heart skipped a beat. I could not believe it. There were 287 people that were watching me right now in the audience. 24 of those people were mods that were busy at putting out the toxic flames that were fanned from the influx of traffic that came from the TikTok video that was becoming increasingly more viral by the hour. Upon starting the stream, Diaper Girl had 130,000 views and 15,800 likes. I got my usual water and Mountain Dew and started the stream, making a very important statement. “Good afternoon and welcome to our Tuesday stream!” I announced. “I am JillianPlays, and I would like to address the recent controversy that just happened overnight. I know that a lot of you are here because of a certain TikTok video that somebody posted regarding something very personal about me. Now, I’m only going to say it once. If I or the mods see you bring up anything inappropriate relating to the nature of the content of that TikTok video, you will be banned from this channel. Don’t even try typing in the word “diaper” either because we made it a banned word. The purpose of this channel is to share my newfound love of video games with all of you, and we are going to move forward with that intended mission. If you have any questions or concerns about what you saw on that TikTok video, I have a Discord that we can discuss this on. Bring your discussion there but keep it off of this channel. Now, I want to forgo the Just Chatting and start Super Mario World early. Who’s ready for some wholesome gaming?” The speech that I gave to my Twitch audience seemed to calm down some of the chat. The banned comments began to lessen as I began to see a flood of JillianCheer’s and JillianYAY’s. Seeing the scrolling display of those two emotes being spammed made me smile. I glanced at the audience counter and saw that I was now at 304 people currently viewing my stream. I switched inputs from my webcam to my Nintendo Switch. As I got to the loading screen for the SNES Channel, MewMewGirl1998 gifted 10 Tier 1 Subs to the community. That meant that 10 random followers of my channel would receive a free Tier 1 sub to JillianPlays. This would be complete with all the Tier 1 emotes, plus ad free viewing on my channel. “Thank you, Mew for gifting 10 subs to the community!” I said with a smile. I continued playing Super Mario World and over the next hour, I received 25 more subs to my channel. 15 Tier 1 subs, 8 Tier 2 Subs, and 2 Tier 3 Subs. There was also a generous newcomer named Lamtastic that kept gifting me 1,000 bits. This started a crazy bidding spree where I received 1,000 bit donations left and right. MewMewGirl1998 then shocked me. She gifted me 10,000 bits! I was totally blown away by the generosity of my growing community. The mods still had to deal with a lot of the troublemakers, but my statement made it very clear at the beginning. I wasn’t going to take any more of anyone’s shit today. The bits and new subs created a hype train, which was a four-minute period where the Twitch audience had a chance to win new hype train emotes if they donated a minimum of 100 bits. The hype train had numerous levels, based on the number of donations that were given to the streamer. With all the crazy donations, my stream reached a level 7 hype train. It then achieved level 7 and level 8 was in progress. But the donations were not enough to achieve level 8. With that, everyone who donated bits during the hype train got one Level 7 hype train emote. I continued the stream, playing through Vanilla Dome, Butter Bridge, Cheese Bridge, and the rest of the outside world’s levels before fighting Ludwig in the World 4 Castle. I took a dinner break before starting on the Forest of Illusion. Over the next few hours, I completed most of the Forest of Illusion before calling it a stream. And to all of you JJ Little Besties who are so good at video games, I have this to say to you. At that time, I was still new to gaming and still learning. I can’t tell you the number of times that I was told that Super Mario World could be beat 100% in under an hour and a half. Well, that was my first playthrough, so I died a whole lot. As I am writing this in the present, I can tell you that I can beat all the exits in about two and a half hours now. I ended the stream and got a text from Glytter, telling me how proud she was of me being able to professionally handle the embarrassing situation. I didn’t want to tell my twin sister that CBS Philadelphia gave me a job offer today. For all I know, I may not be working there, due to a stupid meme video that somebody made of me wearing diapers that was about to go viral. When Jen asked me about CBS Philadelphia calling me back, I lied to her. I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t want her to know about everything happening on TikTok. Fortunately, my sister doesn’t have a TikTok account, so she wouldn’t notice the embarrassing video right away. I said goodnight to my sister and did my nighttime routine. I diapered myself with another Certainty diaper with a Huggies stuffer. I then checked the Trending Page on TikTok once again. Diaper Girl was now at 328,000 views and 38,000 likes. I gasped. This was about to get very big. I got into my queen-sized bed and fell asleep. I woke up the next morning feeling very rested. Surprisingly, I slept very well. I checked the trending page on TikTok, and I was on the verge of panic: Diaper Girl now had 3.2 million views and 293,000 likes. I could not believe this. I got to my computer desk and opened Twitch. To my surprise, there were another 480 followers, and 120 more subs. 80 tier 1 subs, 35 Tier 2 subs, and 5 Tier 3 Subs. This was just unbelievable. That did it. At this point, I did something that I would most certainly totally regret. I called CBS Philadelphia and rejected the offer. I can’t remember everything that was said. All I know is that I told Melinda that I had found another opportunity elsewhere and I had to reject the offer. Melinda sounded a little disappointed but told me that she would call the next candidate. I hung up the phone and sighed. I would surely take the backlash from my twin sister later for rejecting what I considered to be the job of a lifetime. For now, I just wanted to focus on the popularity surrounding the Diaper Girl video and how that video funneled traffic directly to my Twitch channel. And that, my JJ Little Besties, was my most embarrassing day of my life, and a little bit of the aftermath the next day. Now that you saw how the fire began with the Diaper Girl video on TikTok, just you wait. Now, what’s going to happen when gasoline is poured on that baby? What am I going to do to deal with my daily issues with incontinence? What will I find out at the doctor’s office? All this and more will be covered in the next chapter. Stay tuned, my JJ Little Besties and sleep well. The next days and weeks to come are about to get very interesting…

Chapter twenty-nine Jasper woke up in the cot in the middle of the night. After all, it had been his turn to sleep there last night. With his sleeping bag on, he wasn't cold and he'd slept through the night within a moment. Jasper had woken up once because his bladder was acting up, but he hadn't let that spoil his night's sleep. When he woke up half asleep and realised why, he rolled onto his back, let it all go and rolled back onto his side. When he awoke in the morning, he was glad he had slept so well. He vaguely remembered waking up, so he was not surprised that his nappy was already well filled, it did not bother him. He knew he was the last one awake because he heard the voices of the rest of the family from the living room. He emptied his bladder, which was full, and then tried to get up. Jasper struggled to the edge of the bed - which was more difficult with a sleeping bag on - and fumbled for the lock to open the bed door. When he found it, he pushed it open and the door slammed against the bed with a dull thud. When the voices suddenly fell silent, he knew that they had heard him. A few seconds later, Koen cautiously entered the room to have a look at the source of the noise. If Jasper was still asleep, he'd have no intention of waking him. "Good morning Jasper," he said as he saw Jasper standing up on his knees. "Good morning sir." Jasper replied, smiling broadly. Koen quickly bridged the distance between the door and the bed and carried Jasper, sleeping bag and all on his arm, into the living room. "Everyone's up now," he said as he entered the living room. Good mornings were exchanged back and forth. "How's your nappy?" asked Koen. "I can't feel it very well with the sleeping bag on." Jasper flushed. It still wasn't easy for him to talk about it so openly. "It's a bit full, I guess." He said, in an attempt to minimise the state of his nappy. "Doesn't matter anyway," Koen said and planted a kiss on Jasper's nose. He was not used to such affection from a man; the beard chafed and Koen was a bit rougher than his own two mothers. As a way of hiding his shyness, and because he had no idea how he should act during the treatment, he put his dummy in his mouth that hung on the sleeping bag. Heleen and Kathy almost melted when they saw how Jasper looked. Jasper loved all the positive attention, because in his home, where Gert left a big mark on the atmosphere, there was not always room for such cuddles and warm moments. Koen took Jasper to Heleen's room to get him out of his sleeping bag and into a clean nappy, so that everyone could have breakfast. There was nothing special on the agenda today. After breakfast the children were allowed to play on the campsite and in the afternoon the family would go to the beach. For this occasion, Kathy had chosen a jumpsuit for Jasper. She chose the Disney version with Peter Pan and Tinker Bell and helped him to put it on. It was Kathy who helped Jasper get dressed. His nappy from before breakfast was still dry and did not need to be changed. The day would be warm enough to wear nothing on or under the overalls. Dries changed and soon after breakfast the boys put on their sandals and ran off to the playground. The holiday park was small and safe enough for the boys to go out on their own. Heleen took a seat in a hammock on the veranda with a book, and it was not long before Koen and Kathy followed her example. They sat outside on the terrace, had a cup of coffee and enjoyed the peace and quiet that a holiday can provide. There were other children in the playground, but they mostly spoke a different language than Jasper and Dries Spook. There were mutual attempts to establish some contact, but the language barrier was too great and in the end the children played more next to each other than with each other. When lunchtime came, Heleen came to look for the boys. It took her quite a while because there were three different playgrounds on the estate and they had forgotten to agree which one they were going to play on. In the end, Kathy and Koen were so worried that Koen joined in the search, and Kathy almost told the management of the holiday resort about it. Kathy and Koen couldn't really be angry, they should have sorted it out beforehand, but next time they would have to think about what and how. They ate quickly in the afternoon, which meant they had enough time left to go to the beach. Kathy quickly helped Jasper change into a fresh nappy and then the family headed off in the car. It was a twenty minute drive to the beach. The drive to the beach was quite abrupt. There were a lot of sharp bends and Koen had to speed up and slow down a lot because of the heavy traffic. A few times Koen cursed the traffic so loudly that Kathy had to make him keep quiet because his curses were too explicit. Jasper listened a little confusedly to what was going on in the front of the car. He didn't know Koen like that at all. Dries was not so concerned about what was going on in the front of the car. He felt completely nauseous and uncomfortable. With every bend, every brake and every acceleration it only got worse. The feeling in Dries' stomach grew stronger and stronger. If Kathy or Koen had looked at Dries at that moment, they would have seen that his face was getting paler and paler. They had almost reached their destination when Dries really couldn't hold it any longer. He started with 'Mum, I...' and then it came out in a big wave; Dries couldn't hold it in any longer. Horrified, Jasper looked sideways at Dries when suddenly the most horrible noises could be heard. Dries tried to grab a bag or a container, but it was hopelessly too late. Dries' lunch was clattering between his hands on his lap, he had vomited a lot. Startled, Kathy and Koen stopped their earlier discussion. Kathy looked back at Dries to assess the seriousness of the situation. 'It would be best to stop as soon as possible,' Kathy said to Koen. Koen nodded and looked for a safe place to stop the car. He soon found one and parked the car calmly. Even though Kathy and Heleen had opened the window, the smell made Jasper sick. He was glad when Koen stopped and Heleen helped him out of the car. "Heleen, can you keep an eye on Jasper? Then we can help Dries." Kathy said. Koen took the bag of spare clothes out of the boot, glad they always had it with them. He took out what he needed and while Kathy tended to Dries, Koen looked after the backseat. A little later, Dries was freshened up and dressed, and the chair was cleaned as best it could be. They all got back into the car and a little later the family arrived at the beach. The rest of the way Koen had done his best to drive more slowly, the windows had stayed open to hopefully get the rest of the smell out of the car, and Dries felt noticeably better than before. The beach was very busy, and Koen and Kathy had to search a bit before they found a free spot. After walking around for a while, they found a spot between a man lying on a towel and another family talking in German. "Good day, are you on holiday?" rang out in a familiar language from next to Koen and Kathy. Koen and Kathy looked up in surprise. They had heard many languages on the beach, but their own had hardly been one of them. The man next to them had watched curiously as the family settled in. "Yes, we arrived the day before yesterday. I'm Kathy, this is Koen, Heleen, Dries and Jasper. Are you on holiday too?" Kathy asked. Meanwhile, she had pulled Dries over to her and started putting sun cream on him. Jasper waited his turn next to Dries, Heleen did it herself. "Half on holiday, half for work. Nice to meet you, I'm David. Today I have a day off to enjoy the sun, but tomorrow a conference starts that I have to go to. It will take a few days, but fortunately it is interesting and not a heavy programme. I also have some free time here and there. Are you staying far from here?" "Just a twenty minute drive," said Koen, "if there is not too much traffic," mentioning the name of the resort and where it was located. "Oh," the man said in surprise. "I'm staying near there too." "What's the convention about?" "Disaster management," said the man. "I volunteer with the Red Cross and the local branch has allowed me to come here. The congress is ending with a large-scale disaster drill, which I will be able to attend as an observer." "A disaster drill? As an observer? What do you mean?" Heleen's curiosity was piqued and she wanted to know more. "For example, an earthquake, a plane crash, a train accident or a chain collision," the man began, explaining what a medical disaster entailed. He told her what to do when a large number of people were suddenly injured in a major accident, and where things often went wrong. Heleen listened with fascination and asked lots of questions to find out more. David was happy to have someone to talk to in his own language and to have an audience fascinated by his story. It was a bit too complicated for Dries and Jasper and they soon dropped out. The boys did not want to go straight into the sea, so they started playing in the sand. They dug and built in the sand, first trying to build a medieval fortress on a mountain. When they had finished with that, they built another medieval town at the foot of the mountain, complete with ramparts and gates. This way the castle looked down on the town and the surrounding countryside. By the time the town was finished, Jasper and Dries were hot from playing in the sun. With a little help, they changed on the beach. Dries took everything off himself while Kathy held up a towel for him, Jasper needed a little more help to get undressed as he had some trouble with the jumpsuit he wasn't used to wearing. Getting the upper part over his shoulders was much more difficult than with a jacket, because it was attached to the trousers. And he was certainly not used to manipulating the nappy himself. Once they were both in their swimming trunks, they were given a fresh layer of sunscreen and made to drink some water. Soon they were off into the waves, enjoying the hot waters of the Mediterranean. When evening came and it was time to leave, Heleen had persuaded her parents to meet David again later in the week. What she secretly hoped for was to see the disaster drill herself, it sounded so interesting. Jasper and Dries were called and everything was prepared to return. Dries crawled back into his clothes on the beach the same way he had come out, but for Jasper there was no real solution. There were far too many people around to allow him to lie quietly and discreetly change back into his nappy. After a short consultation between Koen and Kathy, it was decided to go to the car and see if there was a way to get Jasper out of his swimming suit discreetly. There were still a few passers-by on the street near where the car was parked, but it was fairly well hidden on the passenger side of the car. While Koen stood at the front of the car and Dries and Heleen at the back to form a wall, Jasper was quickly helped by Kathy, who was changing him from his bathing suit into his nappy and normal clothes, standing by the side of the car. Jasper and Dries had swapped beds that evening as planned. Dries was in the cot that looked like a ship, Jasper was in the normal bed, secured in the sleeping bag and straps to keep him from kicking off the covers and rolling out of bed in his sleep. Jasper woke in the middle of the night. The house was quiet and he knew everyone was asleep. He needed to pee and was thirsty. Jasper quickly solved the first problem. He no longer had any trouble peeing in his nappy. He reached for the bottle to drink. The bottle was a bit trickier and sucking on the nipple wasn't so easy. Eventually he had a few sips of water and his thirst was quenched. He put the bottle down next to his head and accidentally hit the magnetic key that unlocked the restraint. Before he realised what he had accidentally bumped into, he heard the key fall to the floor. Jasper turned on his side and tried to feel the floor. He could just reach the ground and after groping for a while he found the key. When Jasper tried to grab the key he pushed against it and the key rolled away somewhere, Jasper didn't hear where. Slowly Jasper realised that he was stuck, completely and truly stuck. For a moment he thought about calling for Kathy or Koen, but he wasn't quite sure why. He had lost the key, but he didn't need to get out for anything. So if the key was found now, in the middle of the night, what would he do with it? Jasper was tired and decided to go back to sleep. He didn't really need the key now and didn't want to wake anyone up unnecessarily. Jasper straightened up to go back to sleep and closed his eyes. Do you can't wait to read the next chapter? you're welcome to read it after a (free) registration on the scriptorium webpage. (Under writing => work in progress)

I'm content, and I feel if that was a fear I'd never have stepped back into dips permanently in the first place. I already "mess" 2-3 times a day, if it where to go beyond that, I'd probably adjust my diet a bit Believe it or not a monthly supply of disposable dips adds up so I'd like to keep it to a maximum of 4-5 a day. (normally around 4) But no, there are no fears. Thanks Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

Hey DD!! I hope everyone is having a super wonderful week, time keeps flying by and i'm excited for a relaxing weekend. Today would be my 2nd year 7th month, and 10th day or 953 days of being padded. Ever so closer to my third year! As the time continues ever forward, I find myself writing this after changing out of a very soaked dip having just come home from a fun day at the office for a few in person vendor meetings. This morning though was a bit less fun, having to change from a messy dip at work as quick as possible before the meetings started. While i'm thankful to be a 99% remote employee, it does not spare me from various onsite meetings or projects at offices / data centers but I'd rate myself a professional ninja diaper changer and glad to have private bathrooms when needed. Makes changing much much easier! Life keeps moving forward and my body keeps changing little by little from what I can tell, even if it's subtle, it has added up to a life of constant leakiness and very sudden wetting/messing signals if at all. It's hard to really describe what has changed as things are subjective, but I do feel something internally has taken a hit when i'm leaking in between changes or laying down feeling my bottom growing warmer with no sense of needing to wet at all. Messing still is not at a state where I'd describe a complete loss of control. The warnings signs grow even shorter or more subtle/noticeable. Mentally I feel i've crossed a threshold where I'm feeling more on autopilot and dont give much thought to messing, there isn't a loud alarm or something trying to tell me HEY YOU'RE ABOUT TO POO! more just a very quiet subtle "oh I have to to go, so go." While my body is already relaxed and ready to let go. The warning is subtle, the feeling is becoming more automatic, and while I still feel I could stop it if truly wanted too, I've yet to actually test it. It's more just I have to put little effort into relaxing like I used to way back when i first started. Take this morning for instance, I found myself needing to mess after having just gotten out of the car at work. I found myself letting go and instead of heading to the office, instead heading to change first. I'm unsure what will happen in the future, but if this was as close to "incontinence" I could achieve without surgical intervention, I'm happy. I wish it wasn't an odd request to have scans or something performed, or just ways to see just how different my muscles have adapted / changed / weakened over time without going to a doctor or having something on my medical record. It just would be a neat to see for my own sake just to learn how much has changed without giving subjective writing. Anyway I hope everyone has a wonderful month ahead, and that you all have a great weekend. If you have any questions please let me know as I sometimes just don't know what to write. You're all loved ❤️

Chapter 7: Routines "Where is she taking Steve?" Ashley whispered to Nick while they sat out in the playroom after finishing their snacks. She could see Elysia sitting in a rocking chair in the corner. It looked like she was reading a book. Why a mannequin felt the need to read, she had no clue. The cover of the book was just a solid color, so Ashley had no way to tell what she was reading either. Nick stared at Ashley for a moment. She could see the hesitant look on his face. It looked like he didn't want to tell her. He seemed defensive and almost aggressive. "It took him to the machine, it... helps?" Kelly spoke up. Nick shot her a dirty look; Kelly looked down at the floor as if she felt like she was in trouble for speaking up. "I don't know how or why. But it heals us. He should be safe." Kelly spoke in a confused manner. She didn't know much more than Ashley, and Steve, but she knew some stuff, and not speaking up would feel like a betrayal. They were all stuck in this situation together. The least she could do was try and help the best she could. "I'm sorry, what?" Ashley looked at Kelly, completely confused. What does she mean by a machine that heals them? Kelly looked over at Nick, who was clearly upset. He turned his face away from them, attempting to distract himself with some of the tools that were left out for them to play with. "I'm serious! There is a machine down there; it has a screen on it, and we have to stand in this weird tube thing. I don't know what it does, but coming out of that thing makes you feel amazing." Kelly scooted closer to Ashley as she started to explain the weird machine Steve was likely in. "When I got here, I had pretty bad asthma. They took my purse away, so I didn't have my inhaler. I had a bad asthma attack after being here a few days and nearly died. I couldn't breathe at all. The next thing I knew, I was in this weird tube, and I felt better. I was terrified that they did something to me." She paused as she saw Ashley's face change from complete confusion to one of intrigue. She was trying to follow along, but it all sounded weird. Kelly knew it did, and she was the one who had already experienced it. Ashley sat there listening intently. She didn't know if she should take what Kelly was saying at face value. They had only recently met, and it all sounded a little... strange. But then again, here she was, in a diaper, childish clothes, in a daycare, with giant mannequins that think they are children. Strange was an understatement, and at this point, she had no idea what was possible in this world. "Since that day, I haven't even had the slightest asthma attack." Kelly continued. "I know you don't know me, but I had that inhaler in my purse for a reason. I swear if any allergens were in the area, I'd feel my lungs tighten. Since then, nothing. Not even the slightest issue. It's... like they cured it... Which shouldn't be possible?" Kelly had a confused expression on her face. She knew there was no cure for asthma, so how has there been such a major difference? It didn't make sense. Ashley nodded her head. She wasn't sure she believed Kelly, but she also knew this place didn't play by the rules of reality. Something much bigger was going on here, and unless they found a way out soon, she knew they would need to figure out those rules. Suddenly, she heard the basement door open. Nyxara was leading Steven by the hand towards the corner of the room. It looked like he was feeling better, but it was also obvious that his diaper was still dirty. That monster took him away and didn't even clean him up. Ashley sat there frustrated; she wanted to step in but knew it would be a bad idea. She felt her heart race with anxiety for Steve. What were they going to do to him? Why was he brought out over here? Did they already punish him? Nyxara lead Steve to the corner, making him face the wall with his back towards everyone else. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the mannequin began spanking him like a child. Ashley tried to stand up and rush over to him to help but was caught by Kelly. She looked at Ashley and simply shook her head. She knew Ashley wanted to help Steve, but doing so would only put her in danger. Ashley could hear the mannequin speak coldly towards Steve, barely making out the words."You are on time out for misbehaving earlier." Her heart sank. She was helpless to do anything. Feeling completely useless, she sat back down on the floor next to Kelly. Her feelings only worsened when she saw a small wet patch running down Steve's leg from his diaper leaking. She wanted to destroy their tormentors. But how do you kill something that isn't supposed to be living in the first place? "We have to help him!" Ashley pulled her arm away from Kelly. "We can't. All that's going to do is get us in trouble. Do you want a spanking... or worse?" Kelly looked down again at the floor as if recalling a memory from when she tried to interfere. "So what are we supposed to do then? I can't just sit here and watch him stand there in misery." "Do whatever you want. Naptime is coming up soon, anyway, so he won't be there for long. If you both were smart, you'd start listening and paying attention. Otherwise, this place will be worse than hell for you." Nick spoke up for the first time since Ashley asked where Steve was getting taken. "What do you mean! Explain, please, we need your help." Ashley scooted closer towards Nick, hoping he would open up and help them navigate this place. Unfortunately, it looked like he wasn't ready to open up yet. He just turned his back toward her again and began playing with the toys left out, trying to kill time before they could take their nap. "Nick, please!" Ashley was practically begging for answers. She tried to turn him around to face her. But he just pulled his shoulder free from her grasp and ignored her. "Kelly?" Ashley changed her focus, hoping and praying for anyone to help them. "I'm sorry Ashley, I've already said too much. Try asking Nick again after his nap, he tends to get a little cranky around this time of the day, and can be difficult." Kelly glared at Nick as she explained to Ashley the situation. Nick turned around briefly and just stuck out his young like a spoiled child. "What is with these two? I can't seem to figure them out. It's like one second they are adults, the next children. Helpful, then a royal pain in the ass," Ashley thought to herself. Nothing was making sense. "So what, I'm supposed to just sit here and stack blocks?" Ashley felt frustrated about the whole situation. "I already told you I don't care what you do. Just leave me alone. He's going to be fine, so stop being such a baby." Nick snapped back at her, wanting her to shut up and play along for once. Ashley couldn't help but blush at his remark. She wanted to fight back, but what could she do at two and a half feet tall? Not only that, but they were also being treated like babies; she had a dang diaper on for crying out loud! "I'm not a baby," Ashley whispered under her breath. She didn't want to argue anymore, but she also had to state it, even if she was the only one who heard. Kelly managed to over hear Ashley, and just gave her a reassuring smile, with a head nod before turning to play with her own toys. Ashley began looking around for something to play with. Everything seemed so childish—exactly what you'd expect to see at a daycare. Then suddenly, she spotted something from her childhood: link 'n logs. She would play for hours with these things, building all kinds of houses, shops, and other things to make a city for her and her sister to play in. She stared at them for a while, contemplating. "Should I play with them? I want to help Steve, but I can't get Nick or Kelly to help. Trying to get one of those things to help sounded like the most idiotic idea ever. So, with nothing better to do, what's the worst that could happen? It's only for a little while, right? Then he'll get cleaned up and we'll all go down for a... NAP?! Ugh! Why is this place the worst? I'm 23 years old, I don't need naps! Sure, they sound good now and then, but now's not a great time. We need to get out of here! But on the other hand... It's not like I can do anything. It's also been forever since I played with these things. I didn't know they were still getting made. I thought they were discontinued due to "safety" concerns." Ashley gave up and began to build a house and then a town with the logs, losing herself in her little construction project. She forgot how fun these things were. Maybe when they get out of this mess, she'll get a set for them back at home to play with from time to time. She could make them part of the decorations for their home. *Yawn!* Nick broke Ashley's concentration. She got so completely engrossed in the toy that she had no idea how much time had actually passed. "Sounds like someone is getting tired," the mannequin in the rocking chair said, looking up from its book. It looked at its wrist as if checking the time. "Looks like it is about that time of the day, isn't it, Nicky?" The mannequin stood up and walked over to where they were all sitting and playing. "Alright, come here, Nicky and little Kelly. Let's get you two up for your nap. Nyxara, can you please get the other two taken care of?" The mannequin asked as it picked them up. "My pleasure," the other figure replied. Steve turned around to see it approaching him. His eyes got huge. He hated the thing the moment they first saw it, but after the machine and the spanking, he feared it now, too. The thing was a true monster to him. Before he could react, the mannequin picked him up in it's arm. "Come here, Ashley. Take my hand, and we'll go upstairs," the mannequin said toward Ashley, its mechanical arm outstretched, waiting for her to grab it. Ashley didn't want to grab it. These things have been treating them terribly. Maybe now was her chance to run off and find a way to escape. "Let's go, young miss. You need to go for your nap." The mannequin became impatient and picked her up in its other arm just as she ran off like a defiant toddler. "But I'm not tired, and we aren't children. Let us go, you monster!" Ashley yelled at it, smacking it in the face. "Someone is a grouchy girl. You'll feel a lot better after your nap, I'm sure." The mannequin ignored her efforts. Steve looked at Ashley with concerned eyes. He knew he hated the punishment he got, and he didn't want Ashley to be treated the same way. Ashley, seeing Steve's eyes, decided to stop her tantrum. He has had it the worst between the two of them. Yeah, she might have peed herself, but that's nothing compared to shitting himself and then being left in it who knows how long. She at least got distracted by a childhood toy and learned more about this place.

“What?” was all Jennifer could manage to get out. Poisoning her? Poisoning her how? “She, she gets confused when she comes out of it.” she explained when she had found her tongue. But she couldn’t get the words out of her head for the rest of the day. The accusation hung over her head all the following week as well, and the weeks after that. Hortensia hadn’t said anything more on the subject and Carol had taken her word for it, but as they sat at the dinner table, another untouched plate in front of the preteen, Jennifer started to wonder. “Tens, we need to talk after dinner.” Jennifer said. “I didn’t do anything.” Hortensia mumbled, elbow resting on the white dining room table cloth, head propped up by her fist. “Yes you did!” Matilda said. “What did I do?” Hortensia argued. “What didn’t you do?” Matilda insisted. “We can talk about it later when Matilda’s in the bath.” Jennifer said. “Tell me now.” Hortensia said in a bored voice. “I don’t care.” Matilda looked up from her plate, hopeful to hear what trouble Hortensia had gotten herself into now, but Jennifer only shook her head. “Later.” Hortensia made a dissatisfied noise. “You can’t just drop a, ‘we need to talk’ on me.” Matilda giggled. “She thinks you’re breaking up with her.” “I do not!” Hortensia grumbled. “Can’t you tell me what it’s about?” “We have a meeting at the police station tomorrow.” Jennifer said. Hortensia’s eyes briefly flicked over to meet hers before looking away. “Matilda, if you’re done eating, please go upstairs and get ready for bed.” “Bed? It’s only six!” “I didn’t say you had to go to bed, I said please go get ready for bed. Take a bath, brush your teeth, put on your pajamas, read.” Matilda slowly slid off her chair and turned to leave. “Put your plate in the sink, please.” Without a word, the plate rose into the air and into the sink before she made her way up the stairs, visibly sulking as she did so. “She’s going to be a handful when she’s a teenager.” Jennifer said, but Hortensia didn’t react. “Why do we have to go to the police station?” Hortensia mumbled after a minute of silence. “I think we’re meeting with the detective, I’m not sure. I just want you to be prepared in case they start asking you questions.” “I don’t know anything.” Hortensia said softly. Jennifer gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s difficult to talk about, trust me, I know, but it’s important they have all the information.” “I don’t know anything.” Hortensia repeated. Jennifer didn’t believe her. There were too many injuries. Too many inconsistencies in her story. Too much pain in her eyes. And the odd erratic behavior. She knew. Drugs or no drugs. She knew. “Okay.” Jennifer said. She wouldn’t push her. “Can I ask you something?” Hortensia wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Are you aware you’ve been, what’s the word, dissociating?” “I don’t know what that means.” Hortensia said into her still full plate as she moved mashed potatoes back and forth with her fork. “Spacing out… intently.. to the point you…” She could see the girl freeze in place even without actually verbalizing it. “Hey, It’s okay.” Jennifer whispered. She could see her eyes growing glossy. Jennifer had obviously struck a sore spot, but it was time it was addressed. She had tried to fish for answers on numerous occasions, but all she had ever accomplished was shutting her down even more. So Jennifer had held her tongue and passed on her symptoms to her doctors, but even she was growing more reluctant. More and more medication was being added, which left her scrambling even more trying to distinguish symptoms from side effects. Repeating words of others? Side effect. Switch medication. Fixes problem. Mood Swings intensify. Increases medication. No energy. Lowers medication and adds a secondary pill. Stomach ache. And on and on it went. But it all still hadn’t fixed the original problem of the trances. Not a side effect. Get referred to a neurologist to check for seizures. Not seizures. Told the source is psychological. Referred back to Psychiatrist. Same run around with the accidents. Everything had healed and there was nothing physically wrong. Which was a relief, in a way. She didn’t have a head injury from the attack, no swollen blood vessels ready to pop, no hemorrhages, no lesions. She had dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s, but It had caused a bit of contempt in their relationship. Doctor’s appointments, medicine, nappies and food. That’s what they always fought over. Not homework, or curfews and bedtimes. Hortensia mumbled something unintelligible before pushing her plate aside and burying her face in the crook of her arm on the table. Her shoulders began to rise and fall as her breath came in great heaving sobs. “So you are in there?” Jennifer asked gently. Hortensia nodded. “Would you tell me what’s going on when it happens?” Jennifer asked. She got up from her spot on the table and came around. “I feel funny.” “Are you upset when it happens?” Hortensia shrugged. Her psychiatrist said it was stress triggered, her way of escaping a difficult situation. “Is it because you’ve had an accident? Are you panicking?” It’s what she had always assumed was going on. Because it didn’t seem like arguing with her set it off, lord only knew how much they fought, and not once had she froze as an out. (And give Jennifer the last word in an argument? Ha!) No, she had never seen Hortensia retreat from any visible stress. She had seen her freeze during dinner while being forced to eat, and while doing lessons, and while yes, that could be seen as a stressful situation, she had also seen her freeze mid Mario Kart race, but she had been doing terribly, crashing into walls and such ( even Jennifer had managed to keep her cart on the track) so maybe losing to your headmistress was considered a stressful event. But, sometimes she just stumbled onto her like that, slouched over on the couch or lying in bed. Or sometimes, she’d smell her from the kitchen and she’d know what she’d walk out to. The soiled nappies were the only constant. Usually she was just wet, but sometimes… she wasn’t. It was… difficult, cleaning those up. Usually Jennifer would put her in the shower and stay with her until she woke up, but sometimes it wasn’t an option. And it wasn’t like she had to clean up every bowel movement. It was more like once a week. Her fecal continence had come back, well mostly. (Rest In Peace to her second favorite throw pillow) Jennifer had enacted a new rule. “No one is allowed to run around in their knickers.” “It’s just like a big pad that wraps around. It’s really not that different.” She tried to say. At first it was only when they left the house, but after a few mishaps on the rug and the couch, she had made her keep it on. “But the heat!” Hortensia had protested. So she had made the rule in solidarity. If Hortensia had to roast, so did the rest of them. At least it was cooling down now. Jennifer had gotten rather lax around the girls and had found herself downstairs…not prepared to receive company. The markings on her skin no longer even garnered a second glance from either of them. The summer had been an unbearably hot one and one horrifically miserable night had left them all downstairs in their knickers as Hortensia lamented to Matilda about how terrible getting boobs were. Matilda hadn’t responded, she had been nestled tight against Jennifer’s chest despite her hot, sticky skin and was utterly sacked out. Jennifer hadn’t minded. She had laid on her back and stroked the girl's hair from her sweat streaked face. “I’m going to be sad when she’s too old for this.” Jennifer had said softly. Hortensia glanced over for a moment and resumed her drawing. “How old is too old?” “I don’t know. Nine or ten?” Jennifer could have sworn she saw something on Hortensia’s face then, but maybe she only imagined it in the dark room with only the telly to see by. Maybe it had only been wishful thinking. She had been glued to Jennifer for the first three days she had come back, but then as things settled down she had gone back to her usual ways of keeping her arm length away. She was hesitant to touch her even now, sure Hortensia would smack her hands away or scream obscenities before locking herself away in her bedroom. “Would you tell me what’s gotten you so upset?” Jennifer asked softly. Hortensia shook her head, still hiding her face in the crook of her arm. “Is it about tomorrow?” Shake. “Tens, please talk to me. I only want to help.” “You can’t. You just make everything worse!” Jennifer bit back a frustrated sigh. “How am I making things worse?” No response. “Tens?” “You just do.” How helpful. “Would you answer my earlier question?” “Wh-what question?” She mumbled followed by a wet sounding sniffle. “When you have an accident are…” Jennifer trailed off as Hortensia’s sobs intensified. Ah. “It’s okay, Tens. Really, it is.” she whispered. “It’s not okay!” Hortensia wailed. “Tens, is this why you’re starving yourself? To try and avoid having accidents?” Hortensia shook her head, but she wasn’t sure she believed her. “You need to eat. Starving yourself is only going to make you more miserable. If you have an accident, you have an accident. It’s not the end of the world. You don’t have to be afraid.” “I’m not afraid!” Hortensia growled. “Then tell me what you feel when it happens.” “Tired.” Hortensia mumbled. “Tired?” Too tired to get up and use the bathroom? No. “What else?” “Dizzy, and sick, like I need to lie down.” Interesting. She did often find her sprawled out. “So you feel it coming on? These…episodes?” Nod. “And then what happens?” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Came the mumbled response. No. She was shutting back down. It was so difficult to get her to open up. “It’s important.” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” “Tens, please don’t shut me out. We need to get to the bottom of this. If it’s stress, that’s fine, but I need to know there isn’t something else going on.” “Leave me alone!” Jennifer sighed. “Tens, you can tell me what’s going on. No matter what it is. I’m here for you.” She placed a hand lightly on her back. “I love yo-” Jennifer gasped in pain and held her stomach. That little… Hortensia had taken her elbow and slammed it into her stomach. Jennifer grabbed her wrist and held it up before grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet her eyes. “Look at me! I don’t care how upset you are. We do not hit people!” Jennifer said. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!” The girl began to wriggle out her grasp. “Then don’t hit me!” Jennifer shouted back before releasing her. “Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mom!” She was glaring daggers now, not in defiance, but rage. “One more word out of your mouth and you’re going straight to bed!” Jennifer turned away and leaned over the sink like she was going to be sick. She took a deep breath before turning back around. Hortensia was pacing back and forth in agitation like a bull ready to lunge. So it was going to be that kind of night. Jennifer opened the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of pills from the top shelf. She slowly shook one out in her palm all the while staring pointedly into her face. Night night Hortensia. “No. No. I’m sorry. I’m fine.” Hortensia held up her hands defensively. Twenty minutes and she’d be out like a light. Her medication to pull her out of a rage attack worked a little too well. Getting her to take them was another story. It was like trying to give a cat a pill. Sometimes the sight of the bottle was enough to calm her down if she wasn’t too far gone. Other times she needed Matilda’s help if she felt like Hortensia was a danger to herself or others. Psychic powers really came in handy pinning her down in an emergency. An elbow to the gut would have earned her a tablet, but Jennifer wanted to salvage the conversation. “Are you?” Jennifer asked, a note of skepticism hung in the air. “Yes!” Hortensia said, eyes rolling and voice thick with enough attitude and resentment that Jennifer debated giving it to her anyway. “Are you going to sit back down and talk to me?” “I don’t want to talk to you!” “You can drop the attitude, take a seat and answer my questions, or you can take your medicine and go to bed. Those are your options.” Hortensia made a series of whining noises and stomping gestures befitting a child half her age. Jennifer had had enough. She pointed to the back door. “Go. Outside. Twenty minutes. Go hit your bag or something, I don’t care. Just go.” Hortensia remainted where she was, glaring defiantly up at her. “GO!” Jennifer yelled. Finally the girl began to move, not towards the back door, but further into the house. “Where do you think you’re going? I said go to the backyard!” “The lou!” “No, you’re not going to the lou!” “I have to pee!” Jennifer knew her better than that. It was a stalling tactic. She often said she needed to pee before disappearing for twenty minutes. For someone clever enough to tape a Gameboy to the inside of a toilet tank ahead of time, you’d think she’d be smart enough to turn the volume down. “You can hold it for twenty minutes.” “No, I can’t! I really need to pee!” But she exhibited no outward signs of distress that Jennifer could see. No wigging, squirming, or dancing. She was calling her bluff. “Good thing you’re wearing a nappy then. Out!” “No, I’m not!” Hortensia lied despite the clear outline under her shorts. “OUT!” “FUCK YOU!” Hortensia screamed. “I HATE YOU!” She stormed out of the house, slamming the back door on the way out. Jennifer collapsed into the nearest chair at the table, passing the prescription bottle from one hand to the other. Place one tablet under tongue as needed for outbursts. Her vision began to blur. She felt like she was failing. Hortensia was slipping away more and more everyday and there was nothing she could do. Was this normal preteen behavior? She stared at the bottle and debated taking one herself. The thought of a dreamless, drug induced slumber sounded like heaven. An intrusive urge to dump the entire bottle in her mouth buzzed around in her head like a fly that kept returning no matter how many times she batted it away. Eventually, she stood up and put the bottle away, save one tablet which she slipped into her pocket just in case. For Hortensia, she told herself before setting the kettle on the stove. She had just finished pouring herself a mug of tea when the doorbell rang. She stared at the clock before deciding to ignore whoever it was. Now wasn’t a good time for company. But the doorbell rang again. And again. And again. Feeling irritated, she went to the backdoor to make sure Hortensia wasn’t playing a trick on her, but she was outback with her punching bag where she was supposed to be, not hitting it but holding it against herself in a tight embrace. Jennifer frowned. She debated going out there, but they both needed time apart to simmer down, so she wiped at her eyes and decided to see who it was that couldn’t take a hint. Jennifer opened the door to find her neighbor who lived across the street from her. He was a short, balding man with gray hair and glasses who fancied himself as a type of neighborhood enforcer. She would often see him going through the neighbors rubbish bin, making sure they recycled and calling the cops for any excessive noise. “Mr. Fern, “ she said, plastering a fake smile on her face. He made no move to return the gesture. She let her smile fall and waited for him to talk. When no words came, she began with “Is there something wrong?” “Unfortunately, yes, there’s been a number of break ins along the street in the last few weeks, myself included. I'm going door-to-door to warn the others. I know it’s just you and the girls, so I wanted to let you know the neighborhood’s not safe anymore. Please make sure you lock your doors and windows.” “Oh.” Jennifer said with a frown. Her aunt had installed a security system in the midst of one of her manic episodes, but Jennifer hardly remembered to set it before bed. “Thank you for telling me.” He nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Did the police ever find out who was responsible for vandalizing your car?” “Oh, that. Just some neighborhood kids.” Jennifer lied before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I work at the school. Easy to make enemies when you’re the one handing out punishments.” “I thought you teach little kids?” he asked skeptically. “Oh, I used to, now I’m the headmistress. But breaking in? That's terrible!” He must be having a field day. Maybe now he’d stop harassing her about her rubbish bins not being a full meter from the curb. “How did they get in? I hope they didn’t break your window.” “No, um” he looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “I left my front door unlocked.” “This isn’t a ‘lock your doors’ kind of area, I understand.” At least it used to be. She couldn’t remember the last time she had heard about an actual robbery being committed on her street. “What did they steal?” He frowned at her question. “Nothing valuable.” “What kind of burglar doesn’t steal anything valuable? He wasn’t a very good burglar then.” “It was more unsettling.” He explained. Jennifer nodded. The thought of someone coming into her home uninvited and going through her things sent a chill up her spine. “They only took…” Please don’t say knickers. Please don’t say knickers. “Food.” She gave him a confused look. “Yeah, I think my wife scared him off before he could root through the place. Came downstairs and found some guy rummaging around in the fridge. She didn’t get a good look at him, ran upstairs and locked herself in the bedroom as soon as she saw him. He was long gone before the cops arrived. Only thing missing was a bag of deli meat and a jar of pickles.” “How odd. Do you think it was a homeless man?” “No, I think he was just brazen enough to make himself a snack before turning the place. It reeks of confidence. I think he’s done this before and didn’t expect to get caught. Mrs. Prett said she’s missing 200 pounds out of her desk drawer.” “How horrid! That's a lot of money!” She exclaimed. Her couple of years living destitute had taught her to appreciate living modestly. The most expensive thing in her home she had bought was the Nintendo 64 she had gotten the girl’s to celebrate her one year anniversary with Matilda. It was a much adored purchase by both children and the heartache of coming home from school to find someone had broken in and stolen it would break them. Not to mention it was her and Brian’s main tool to slip away unnoticed. Other than that, a burglar would be rather disappointed to break into her house. She had either sold, or given away most of her aunt's possessions, except the odd pieces she knew her aunt had an attachment to, like her Precious Moments porcelain figurines she kept in a glass cabinet. Those she smashed with a hammer in the backyard while the girls cheered her on and laughed. Hortensia had the right idea, smashing things to bits was cathartic. “JENNY! I NEED TO PEE!!” she heard bellowed from the back followed by the backdoor slamming shut. Jennifer winced. “Haven’t seen her in church for a while.” He said with a sniff. “Might behave herself better if you went to her church instead of your own. I bet she misses her church family.” What she missed was her real family. “We don’t go to church.” she said automatically. He looked scandalized at the very thought. “Well that’s why she’s misbehaving! All that yelling coming out of your house. She’s crying out for Jesus!” Jennifer’s eyelid twitched. “Take her back, see if she doesn’t straighten out. She never acted this way when her momma was around. She would have smacked that attitude right out of her.” It had been a rough few weeks. The whole street must know she had some kind of behavioral issue with her hollering. Police had even been called several times anonymously to do a welfare check, thank you Mr. “Your-Bins-Aren't-Two-Meters-From-The-Curb.” “You know Eve?” She asked. She didn’t even know he had known Hortensia before. “How well?” “We’ve gone to the same church for the last ten years.” Jennifer’s lips pursed. He went to that church. The one Hortensia had gone to. The one where Hortensia had been… And he wanted her to go back? “No, it’s not safe there, haven’t you seen the news?” Her posture had gone from defensive to offensive as he spoke. “Oh, that’s a lot of bollocks. I know him, he’s a good man! He’s the pastor's son! That family has been a part of that church for generations. Someone’s trying to run his name through the mud. It’ll all blow over once the police realize it’s just some kid telling stories. It’s all a lot of bollocks.” Jennifer’s eyes began to blur. “There’s a kid in my house going through hell because of him.” She said through clenched teeth. “Her?” He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment in thought. “That explains things.” He didn’t say it with pity, but with understanding. “She’d be the type.” Jennifer’s jaw dropped. “Look, I’m not accusing her of anything.” He held up his hands. Jennifer gritted her teeth in anger, fighting the urge to slam the door in his face. She was an adult. She could control herself better than this. “This is a good man’s life we’re talking about. He’s an absolute staple of our church community, and Hortensia, well, she clearly has her problems. We want you to be sure, you know, before you do anything hasty. Wouldn’t want you to make a big deal of this and it blows up in your face.” “So this is why you’re here? To intimidate me?” Jennifer asked. “No, not intimidate you, just to, you know, warn you. I wouldn’t want you to go through all this for nothing.” “Go through all what?” “Well you know, victims of this kind of crime usually get their reputation trashed just as much as the perpetrator. Her history with these kinds of stories and behavior are going to come out.” “Are you threatening us?” she demanded.“She’s only eleven-years-old for bloody sake! She’s just a kid!” “I’m just telling it like it is. Everyone hates lawyers for a reason. Eve’s asked us all to keep Hortensia in our prayers for her behavioral issues for years. Any damn lawyer worth his salt is going to find that out.” So much for “Eve would have smacked the attitude right out of her.” “Do yourself a favor and drop the whole thing. Even if it did happen, other people are pointing fingers as well. Let them bring the case forward and save yourself the trouble.” “You need to go.” Jennifer said. She was shaking now. “You come here with your fake story about a break in, pretending to care about us, and threaten me.” “No, no, that part was real, which reminds me, where was she two days ago? Where does she go when she goes out on her bike?” “You said it was a man.” Jennifer had her hand on the door, ready to slam it shut. “They were in a hoodie, and like I said, she didn’t get a good look at him.” “It wasn’t her; she hates pickles!” She said before swinging the door shut. She stood in her living room for a solid minute shaking with silent anger. How dare he. How dare he. To accuse her of lying. As if she could fake those injuries… To accuse her of breaking into people’s houses to rob them? An eleven-year-old-girl? She went to the backyard to see if she had come back yet, but surprise, surprise, she hadn’t. She peeked in the downstairs bathroom, but she was nowhere to be found. Someone’s earning themselves an early bedtime, she thought numbly as she climbed the stairs. She peeked in her room, but she wasn’t there either. She paused in the doorway and sighed. So messy. “Have you seen Tens?” Jennifer asked, coming into Matilda’s room. “Is she hiding in here?” “Restroom.” Matilda said. She was lying on her stomach with her feet curled behind her, an open book resting in front of her “Ran in while you were coming up the stairs.” Of course. “You’ve earned yourself a restart of your twenty minutes.” she called, knocking on the bathroom door. “G-go a-w-aw-way!” Jennifer grimaced and softened her voice. “Would you come out so we can talk?” But there was no response, only sobbing. “Can I come in?” “Go away!” They went back and forth for a few minutes before Jennifer gave up. “Okay Tens, I’ll go, you can come out when you’re ready.” She went into Hortensia’s bedroom and sat on the bed and waited. She wondered if she was still crying over their fight, but when a cold chill came through the room and she looked up to find the window open, she had a feeling she wasn’t so fortunate. She stood up and slammed it shut. He was standing across the street in his front yard, watching her. He waved. She shut the blinds. She needed something to distract herself so she bent and started tidying up. Why was there so much trash in here? All these Crisp wrappers and banana peels. At least she’s not eating only junk … She bent and picked up a half empty bag of sliced bread. Odd taste in snacks, but okay. And then she decided to move the bed away from the wall. Food wrappers of all kinds fell to the floor. “Hortensia…” Jennifer sighed and bent down to start scooping it up. She was obviously hoarding food, but…why? And not just junk, but bread, yogurt, and granola bars. There was an empty protein shake for diabetics, a half eaten tomato, and cottage cheese. And then she saw it. The pickle jar. Jennifer sat on the bed, put her face in her hands and cried.

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.")

Chapter 6: Tantrum Against The Machine A little over a week later… “Okay squad,” Bala said, “listen up!” The three-dot Pink paced in front of the monkey bars like a general reviewing their troops. “Most of you don’t know each other, and that’s by design so I’ll make introductions for you.” The ringleader pointed to two Latinx Pinks, a boy and a girl. Possibly related, Ai thought. Was that racist? “This is Sun and Moon,” Bala said. The pair high fived each other. “They have the same Carer and they’re actually brother and sister.” Inwardly, Ai wiped the sweat from her brow. “This is Tower,” Bala continued, pointing to a tow headed girl with glasses resting on all fours. Ironic that she was the lowest to the ground. The girl waved to everyone shyly. Bala’s gaze lifted to a Pink girl in a onesie dangling upside down from the monkey bars above Tower. “That’s Baby.” “Why do I have to be Baby?” the girl complained. “Would you rather be Fool?” Baby harumphed and crossed her arms. The blush in her cheeks might have been embarrassment or just the blood rushing to her head. “No. I’ll be Baby.” “Magician,” Bala labeled Ai. Then she pointed to herself. “Chariot.” Then she held up her doll. “Star.” When even the doll got a code name, you knew it was serious. “Oh,” Bala said, “and that’s Ghost.” Ai looked to her right and almost jumped out of her skin! A Carer! They hadn’t even started their brilliant act of rebellion and they’d already been caught! A second later, Ai’s brain kicked in and caught up with her eyes. No. Not a Carer. Just the oldest Pink she’d ever seen. The Black woman nicknamed ‘Ghost’ raised her hand and waved meekly at the others. Two dots glowed on her wrist, same as everyone else. Her outfit was the same pale rose as a Carer’s scrub, but the material was different. She was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that hid neither the bulge nor the very top of her diaper. Being old enough to be the rest of the group’s biological mother should have made her stick out like a sore thumb, but amazingly Ai didn’t think she’d have noticed the woman if Bala hadn’t pointed her out. “Ghost is really good at stealth.” Ai blinked and looked away. “I can tell…” Bala took a seat in the playground mulch and bid everyone gather around her. They did, forming a tight knit circle.”Ghost. Duck, duck, goose without the goose.” The older Pink started circling the group, patting each one on the head, but not saying anything. “So here’s a fun fact,” Bala whispered. “Where do you think Luna comes from?” “Phones?” Baby guessed. “The internet?” Sun (or maybe it was Moon…the boy one) tried. Ai knew the answer. “With as powerful as Luna is, her network servers would have to be spread out all over the globe.” Bala touched her nose. “Exactly. Anybody want to guess where they are?” “Antarctica?” “The moon?” Bala winced. “Nope. Think simpler.” She pointed down at the ground. “Get the fuck out!” Ai said. It was laughable! Why would the most powerful computer ever created by mankind, practically a machine god, have its servers underneath a public playground? “It’s true,” Bala’s sage words carried unseen weight with them. “Think about it. Who works for Luna? Who does she trust more than anybody?” “The Carers,” Ai replied. “And do people want to be around us?” Bala asked. “Not if they can avoid it.” Ghost said, startling Ai again. It was true. The only people who used these playgrounds were Carers and the people forced to be cared for by them. To everyone else they were warnings or unseen; something to avoid and not think about if at all possible. They certainly were before Ai turned Pink. “So you’re a crazy computer who manages the world,” Bala started, “And you only want your most trusted servants near your brain.” Ai finished the thought. “So you hide the pieces of your brain in places where your agents walk freely and make it so that everybody else wants to stay as far away as possible.” Bala made her doll clap its hands. “Magician gets the hat trick!” “So what do we do?” Ai asked. “First,” Bala said, pointing at the siblings, “Sun and Moon need to provide cover. Everybody loves them. We need you to start a playground-wide game of group freeze tag. Boys versus girls. Girls it first. I want everybody moving and stopping so fast and chasing each other that our Carers won’t be sure where we are.” “We can make something like that go on for about ten minutes until everybody gets too tired or bored,” the girl reported. “We’re gonna need it to last at least fifteen,” Bala replied. She was met with a nod and salute. “Tower. You’re a better cuddly type than any of us. I need you to be over with the majority of Carers doing everything you can to soak up all of their attention. If they’re cooing over you they’re not actively looking at us.” The girl who’d been the lowest to the ground saluted. “Do what I was gonna do anyways. Got it!” “Baby, you’ve got a good set of lungs and a better set of eyes. I need you to be playing near our point of entry and keep a lookout. If things start to go south top side, I need you to cry your lungs out. If we’re lucky we’ll hear you. If not, you can still buy us more time by faking an emergency. Baby seemed nonplussed. “That’s why my codename’s ‘Baby’? Because you need a crier? Can’t I have something cooler than that?” “What about me?” Ai asked. “Magician,” Bala nodded,”You, me, Star, and Ghost are going underground. There’s a drain pipe that leads to the main server location. I’ve been in there only once before and then got out as soon as I realized what I was looking at. Ghost, you’re going to be our Trojan Horse. From a distance you’ll pass for a Carer. Up close you can get the jump on one of the real ones.” “Why do I have to be a Baby?” Baby asked again. Bala ignored her. “Magician, I need you to take point and lead the way once inside. It’ll be blind leading the blind down there, but I think you’ll be able to pull it off. You're more alert than any of us. Use that paranoia to your advantage.” “And you Ba…Chariot?” Ai asked. A sinister grin flashed .”Me and Star will take down the software.” “And it’ll…what? Kill Luna?” Ai asked. The others all suddenly looked worried. Did they really want to kill a machine god as a prank?” “Probably not,” Bala said. “Too many parks. Too many redundancies. But we can cost Luna a lot of data. Show her she’s not as clever as she thinks she is.” Frames relaxed. Energy increased. And that same sinister smile spread across everyone in the group’s face. “So…who’s ready to give God a stroke?” ************************************************************************************************************* Ai shouldn’t have looked back. She really shouldn’t have. If she’d just stuck with the plan this would have been a completely different story. It was hot under the playground. Hotter than Ai had expected. Machine shop hot. Oven hot. Dark too. Luna didn’t need to worry about the comfort of humans in a place where humans weren’t supposed to be. Ai felt like she was dripping from everywhere by the time they navigated the tiny labyrinth. But things were running smoothly. It wasn’t as much a maze as it was a haunted house. There was an intuitive path that led from doorway to doorway, even when there were only slowly blinking orange lights to navigate by. No security, either. Why would there be? No one came here. Security might draw attention. “I think this is it,” Ai said, coming upon stacks and stacks of large rectangular steel blocks. They glowed, blinked, and hummed, heat pouring out of them. “Good,” Bala panted. “Just gotta find an access panel.” “Then what?” In the dark, Bala waggled her doll around. “Remember my secret?” She peeled open the back of the doll’s dress and removed something tiny and square. “The one Luna can’t figure out?” Ai stared in awe at the tiny little chip. “What is it?” “Just a bit of code I made as a nurse. Half of one, technically. Sends a shutdown signal without calling for a restart. But the rest of the code is filler. Creates a feedback loop so there’s no way to turn it back on again. The receivers are constantly processing trying to fill an order that’s never complete. So simple, it was brilliant. And Ai didn’t know the first thing about coding, but on a fundamental level she felt she understood. It was exactly the sort of thing that higher artificial intelligence would overlook. Also something that it would be powerless to stop since it too was made of code. Now all they had to do was find a space to stick it in. “Can I hold it?” Ai asked, full of wonder. “Sure.” Never before had Ai felt so powerful. By having this bit of steel and circuits in the palm of her hand she felt like she finally had all of that sorely needed agency. The power to destroy. The power of chaos and entropy right at her fingertips. “Hey!” a deep voice called out. “What are you doing in here? This is for authorized personnel only.” “Run!” Bala shrieked. Ai didn’t need to be told twice. She darted into the shadows, the sound of pounding footsteps ricocheting off the walls. Hers. Bala’s. Ghost’s. The guard’s. Ai huffed and panted, trying to regain control of her breathing lest she hyperventilate or be heard. “Access hatch,” she said to herself. “Gotta find an access hatch!” She started fumbling around in the darkness. Hoping for her fingers to find purchase on something. Something to grab or hold onto. Something to peel away or unlatch. YES! Her fingers felt a groove. Her ears were rewarded with a click. Her eyes, adjusted to the dim light, saw what she thought was the perfect place. “Here goes nothing…” she said to herself. In a way she was right. What is there left to give when you have nothing to lose? The chip slipped into the tiny slot perfectly. She felt more than heard the satisfying little *click* when she pushed it all the way in. One Mississippi… Two Mississippi…. The lights went out. All of them. The sound of humming machinery stopped. “What the-?” A confused voice said and then turned into a grunt followed by a heavy thud. Silence. “Magician?” Bala called out. “You there? Magi-?” “HERE!” Ai screamed. “HERE!” “Good,” Bala said. “That was definitely the guard. Good work Ghost. Magician, follow my voice!” “On it, Chariot!” Ten seconds of impromptu Marco Polo later, and they were on their way out, holding hands and snaking back through the corridors. “I can’t believe we did it!” Bala gushed. “We pulled it off again! Everything went perfectly according to plan!” “Yeah!” Ai said. It was the first time in a long time where everything had gone the way she’d hoped it would. It was a foreign feeling at this point. A bad one. Everything went right. That meant that something had gone incredibly wrong. Ai slipped the other girl’s grip. “Just one second! Be right back!” “Ai!” Bala called after her. “Wait! Come back!” But Ai was too fast. “No,” Ai heard herself whispering. “No, no, no…” Ai hated what she was seeing. The orange track lights had come back on. Why were they coming back on?! “Nooooo, no, no, no, no-no-no.” The processing towers were still blinking! They shouldn’t be blinking! Why the fuck were they blinking?! She’d just trashed them! Fried out computer towers don’t just come back on! Luna shouldn’t be able to recover this quickly! Luna should be glitching and spiraling and shutting down for repairs. “Nonononononononononononono!” Ai wanted to turn back. She desperately wished she could slow down and be caught by her friend Bala. Yet is was as if some primordial force inside of her kept pushing her down the same path all over again. Her need to scratch this itch and find out the truth superseded her need to be happy. Like a coaster on the tracks, she ran down the same path she’d taken before. And just like an amusement park ride or a haunted house, everything in the computer room, from the computers, to the lights, to the guard had reset back to its point one. It was too hot in here. Way too hot. Real computer towers would have fried themselves at this temperature. “Nonononononono.” Stupid! Stupid girl! Stupid selfish short sighted idiot little girl! So desperate to get tricked that she almost let herself give into the illusion. To be the hero for once instead of the victim. She wanted the lie SO BADLY. But she was no knight in shining armor. Just an idiot with a barber’s bowl on her head. And Bala was no Dulcinea. Just a common who- “Ai!” Bala reached out and grabbed Ai’s wrist. “Come on! You have to get out of here before it’s too…” Ai yanked her arm away as hard as she could. “How long have you been working for Luna?!” “What the hell are you talking about?” Bala asked, hurt and confused. “I tell you I want to rebel against Luna and you instantly know that there are secret servers right under the playground that you’ve never brought up?” “I didn’t trust you,” Bala stammered. “I had to know you were ready to make the ultimate-” “Cut the crap Bala!” Bala hung her head. She inhaled through her nose and puffed out through her mouth. When she raised her head back up, she was clutching her dumb doll again. “All Three-dots Work for Luna,” she said quietly. “Someone’s gotta show the other perma-Pinks how to enjoy it.” The words alone were a slap in the face. Just another means of manipulation. Just another means of control. A wild brat that seemed to control her Carer and get whatever she wanted. How unreal! Meanwhile Ai was taking her word as gospel and channeling her own wants as silly tantrums and pointless pranks. “You needed to lash out,” Bala spoke softly. “You needed to hate someone. You needed a win. So we gave you one.” “Where are her real servers?” Ai just had to know. “She’s Luna,” Bala said. “On the moon of course.” That explained the cringe earlier. In the darkness, the two Pinks could just make out the whites of each other’s eyes. “And what’s going to stop me from telling everybody else about this? Telling them the truth?” Just like the whites of the other girl’s eyes, Ai could barely make out Bala’s cheshire grin. “Why Ai,” Bala said. “Once people know how amazing you were, that it was you who saved the day and inserted the chip on the great playground adventure; that you were so naughty that Luna decided to take away your Big Girl status forever to keep herself safe; why would you want to tell them what really happened?” Ai gasped. Was Bala saying what Ai thought she was? “You could have it all,” Bala said, her voice calm and hypnotic. “No need for a job. Your every desire catered to. All your friends loving and respecting you. Everybody else scared of you. No one will ever be able to hurt you ever again.” It was true. Ai really did want those things. But did she really want them, or did she have those desires because of Bala’s influence and a lack of other options? “You’ll even get a little doll of your own.” Bala held out her porcelain effigy, her Aya. “One that has a special surprise for good girls like us.” A strange yet familiar voice droned out of the doll’s unmoving mouth. “Hello, Ai. I am very satisfied with the progress you’ve made thus far. You have advanced much more quickly than I initially anticipated. I’m so proud of you.” Luna! Luna was talking to her! Saying she was proud of her! Giving her purpose again! Giving her permission! “You’ll also get to be in on the biggest secret ever,” Bala tempted. “Carer’s are not Luna’s favored agents. We are. Luna loves us so much that she never wants us to have to do anything for ourselves ever again. We are the real secret rulers of the world.” “And all I have to do,” Ai reached out towards the doll with trembling hands, sweat dripping from her fingertips. “Is tell a story?” “That is correct, Ai.” Aya- Luna really- said. “Your final initiation. Your final test.” It was everything Ai had ever wanted. She could have access to Luna. She could have her cake and eat it too, being a rake and a brat while also being near the top of an important social structure. She even got a servant in Nana out of the deal. And all she had to do was pretend to be a big dumb baby for the rest of her days. “So what do you say, Ai?” It would be easy. It was everything Ai could ever dream of. But it wasn’t the truth. Ai’s lips pouted and puckered like she was about to blow a kiss. In a way she was; a kiss of death. Hers, or all of society. “No.”

12oz mugs of coffee.

When I was in my 20's, I guess I was average, about 5.5" when erect. Now in my 60's, with E.D. and a bedwetter, I'm under 3.5 " WHEN I can get erect, which is very rare.

I had a girlfriend before that thought my penis was big, it is just under 4 inches, and she told me her husband who passed away was small compared to me. At the time I said no mine is actually small. I ran into her a couple of years later, after she had been with other guys, and she told me that I was right, I did have a small penis. When you are a little under 5'5" tall you typically are going to have a small penis.

I am a small guy with a small penis, which feels right and nice to little me. I am proud of my little pee pee ☺️

This is the first time I ever felt like having a 4 inch penis put me on the bigger side of things with over half of the responses under 3.5 inches

I’m definitely into sph. It’s pretty much the fantasy of it I like, though I wouldn’t mind some light teasing or comments from a partner I’m comfortable with. I’m on the smaller side when hard but it’s not outrageous. Flaccid I’m absolutely tiny (a little button), and I’d be very embarrassed to be exposed in real life. In terms of living my regular life as an adult, it is not something that really hinders me or gets into my head. However, it was very much an issue when I was younger and I had some really emasculating experiences that are the root of interest for me, pretty much like the diapers are. My brother would constantly pants me and in general I just didn’t feel like I didn’t have or maintain much privacy for a really long time. Honest to god, my mom once took me to the family doctor because she was worried that I hadn’t hit puberty yet and I was so small she thought there might be something wrong. Even all that didn’t really bother me that much, but locker rooms in middle school were an absolute hell for me. I was a late bloomer and very naive and dorky. I was signaled out immediately for my “tighty-whities” and the fact that I had no bulge and things just escalated from there. I just did not stand up for myself or tell any or tell any authority figures, and it was very much made a joke of on a regular basis. It was all very awful at the time but I think if that’s kind of your first experience with your peers it’s kind of hard for it not to affect what you’re “into”

Chapter 34: The next couple days unfolded in a series of diaper changes, playtime, feedings and lullabies. Each day filled with a symphony of familiar sounds and comforting routines. The soft sunlight filtering through the curtains accompanied by the scent of baby powder, as Mommy, Aunty and Granny would take turns changing me in the morning, their hands moving with a practiced grace, unfastening the onesie with playful "POP! POP! POP!" sounds and revealing the aftermath of the night's adventures. The changing mat placed beneath me as they would proceed with gentle efficiency, the atmosphere filled with the soothing crinkle of a fresh diaper unfolding. The room transforming from the remnants of the night into the promise of a new day, each day seemed to blur into the next, marked by the scent of baby powder and the soft rustling of onesies. Grannies house, now a haven for toddler paraphernalia, echoed with the laughter and chatter of my family. Playful adult banter, mixed with babytalk created a surreal but oddly comforting atmosphere. As the days unfolded, I slowly started losing track of time. “How many days had we been at Grannies? What day was it? What time was it?” The questions would pop into my mind from time to time, but quickly fade again, as I would realize that it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t my concern. I didn’t have to go to work, didn’t have to set an alarm clock, Mommy would come get me when it was time to get up. Granny would make dinner when it was time to eat and Mommy would change me and put me down, when it was time to sleep. Life at Grannies was good, simply and easy. A highlight of my days was the time spent with my Jack. Playtime became a delightful interlude, filled with colorful toys, giggles, and the infectious joy of a toddler discovering the world. As I sat on the floor, surrounded by a colorful array of toys, my gaze fixed on Jack, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within me. The plastic blocks, soft plushies, and squeaky toys lay scattered around us, inviting exploration. One day the the plush dinosaur in my hands suddenly transformed into a majestic creature, its roars filling the imaginary landscape we were creating. The day after I pushed a plastic truck, across the floor, creating imaginary roads and landscapes as Jack's eyes lit up with wonder, and I found myself lost in the make-believe world we were constructing together Jack's contagious laughter echoed through the room, and my own hesitations were replaced by an unexpected sense of liberation. The plush toys and cars became characters in a vibrant story in the imaginary games we played. In the corner of my eye, Mommy watched with a warm smile, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection As Jack and I played on the floor, a sea of toys spread out around us like a vibrant tapestry of childhood, Mommy approached with a pair of baby bottles in her hands. The familiar crinkle of plastic and the soft rattle of liquid within the bottles hinted at their contents, and a subtle unease settled in my chest. My gaze shifted from the colorful toys to the baby bottles, and for a moment, hesitation lingered in my eyes. Jack, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up at me with those wide, curious eyes, his small hands still clutching a plush teddy bear. Mommy, ever attuned to the nuances of our playtime, offered me a gentle smile as she handed me a baby bottle. The soft silicone nipple, a stark contrast to the hard plastic of my zippy cup that I was accustomed to. As the baby bottle met my hand, a sense of vulnerability washed over me. The crinkling sound of the bottle being squeezed, a prelude to the liquid within, echoed in the room. Jack, unfazed brought his bottle to his lips with an ease that highlighted the simplicity of the act. For a moment, I hesitated, my gaze flickering between the baby bottle and the innocent expression on Jack's face. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if awaiting my decision. And then, with a subtle exhale, I gave in. Bringing the baby bottle to my lips, the cool liquid touched my tongue, and the rhythmic sucking commenced. The act, like with my dummy once a foreign concept, quickly became second nature. Without realizing it I had exchanged by Zippy cups for baby bottles. They became a stable during breakfast, lunch and Dinner. I was no longer gobbling down juice from the hard nozzle of my zippy, I was now suckling away at the rubber nipple of my bottle, just like Jack. But I didn’t have to worry about spilling, my lips created a vacuum around the nipple as I suckled and I was able to just close my eyes and suckle away, whenever a bottle was handed to me completely carefree. Like Mommy’s sweet relaxing lullaby, “my baba” also became a stable before bedtime. In the dim room, flat on my back, tightly tucked in, with Mr. BunnyRabbit nestled close, Mommy sitting on the edge of the bed humming a sweet melody, with a smile on her lips, I would hold the bottle between my palms and suckle down the sweet liquid. "Good night, my sweet baby," Mommy whispered, and with Mr. BunnyRabbit and the rhythmic sucking, I would drift off. Morning sunlight peeked through the trees, signaling the start of a new day. Our visit to Granny's was coming to an end, and it was time to pack up and head back home. Karen and Granny finished packing the car, Jack was already strapped into his carseat, as me and Mommy exited the house and made our way down the driveway towards the car. Me dressed in an all-white onesie, yellow shorts and a extra think diaper, that was meant to last the whole ride home, hopefully keeping us from having to stop during the ride. “All set?” Mommy exclaimed, as Karen shut the trunk. “One second, Dear” Granny announced, her body sticking out halfway through the door to the backseat, clearly fiddling with something. “There we go!” She proclaimed poking her head out to great us. “Snug as a bug!”. Mom continue leading us towards the car. "Patrick, sweetheart, look what Granny got for you!" Mommy's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as Granny stepped aside, allowing me to have a look into the backseat of the car, unveiling a gigantic custom-made car seat, placed right in the backseat next to Jack. The seat was made up of a hard plastic shell and covered in a bright red couching material, the same color as “Lightening Macqueen”. The headrest, all plump and supportive, looked like it was ready to cradle my head into an involuntary nap. Adjustable straps look to be crisscrossed over the chest and waist, promising security but hinting at a restraint that was hard to ignore. It looked like a straitjacket for my adult freedom. My jaw almost hit the pavement of the driveway, as the carseat came into view and reality hit me. “My very own carseat, right in the backseat next to my BABY cousin Jack”. We would be locked in together, unable to get up or out of the car on our own. Not even able to shift our seats or grab at anything that was out of our reach. Mommy, with an anticipatory smile, gestured toward the car. "Patrick, sweetie, we've got everything set up for a safe and comfortable ride home." Granny, sensing my hesitation, stepped forward with that knowing look of hers. "Patrick, dear, it's for your safety. You know we care about you, and this is just a precaution," Granny explained, her voice a blend of reassurance and conviction. "But Granny, I've been riding in cars my whole life without needing a car seat. I'm not a little kid," I protested, my skepticism turning into a full-on debate. Mommy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Sweetheart, it's not about age. It's about ensuring you're secure during the journey. Trust us; it's the best way." Aunt Karen chimed in, "It's just like the ones we use for Jack. Safety first, Patrick." I glanced at the car seat, feeling like it was this plushy conspiracy against my grown-up status. Granny, seizing the moment, added, "Think of it like your own little space for the ride, a cozy spot just for you." "But Granny, I'm not a kid. I can sit in the car just fine without a seat like that," I protested, feeling a bit like a rebellious teenager. Mommy exchanged glances with Granny, a silent conversation passing between them. "Sweetheart, Granny has a point. It's not about treating you like a child; it's about keeping you safe. We've got a long drive ahead, and this will just make sure you're secure," Mommy added, her voice a mix of reassurance and concern. I crossed my arms, pouting like a stubborn toddler. "I don't need to be strapped into some seat like a baby. I'm a grown man!" Granny, sensing my resistance, played her trump card. "Patrick, it's not about age; it's about safety. Think about it like a cozy embrace for the road. We just want what's best for you." However, my rebellious spirit kicked in mid-drive. "I don't want this stupid seat!" I exclaimed, throwing a little tantrum. Mommy getting down on one knee, clutching my head in her bosom, concern etched on her face. "Sweetie, calm down. It's just for your safety. We don't want you getting hurt." But I wasn't having it. I continued my mini-tantrum, arms crossed, and probably a pretty unconvincing scowl on my face. Granny, ever the wise one, leaned over and whispered something to Mommy. Their eyes met, and after a few hushed words, Mommy, with a comforting smile, said, "Alright, sweetheart. We'll make a deal. Just for this ride, okay? And then we'll talk about it when we get home." I huffed a little, feeling victorious in a small way. The car seat stayed, but the promise of revisiting the issue later gave me a glimmer of hope. I reluctantly started settling into the plushy embrace of that oversized car seat. Mommy, with her maternal determination, got down to business, fussing over the straps like she was preparing me for a rollercoaster ride. “There we go, my wittle sweetie-pie, all snug as a bug in a rug!" The crisscrossing harness felt snug against my chest and waist, like a too-tight hug from an enthusiastic aunt. It wasn't exactly suffocating, but it definitely had this "you're not going anywhere" vibe. Mommy, determined to ensure maximum safety, pulled and adjusted until every strap seemed to have a purpose. "Mommy's making sure her wittle adventurer is super-duper safe on our wittle journey," she cooed, her words a symphony of affection and over-the-top sweetness. As Mommy tightened the straps, I couldn't help but feel this gentle squishiness against my diaper. The plush padding of the seat, combined with the firmness of the harness, like my diaper was getting a cozy, unexpected hug from the seatbelt. "There we go, snug as a diaper on a baby's bottom!" I squirmed a little, trying to find a comfortable spot in this grown-up baby seat. Mommy, sensing my discomfort, gave me this reassuring smile, saying something about safety and snugness. With a final, "All set, my wittle cutie-patootie!" she patted my head, and I was officially ready for the road. After saying goodbye to Granny, which ended with her giving both me and Jack a gigantic kiss on the cheek our drive back home commenced, and there I was, wedged into that plushy behemoth of a car seat. Strapped in like a toddler on lockdown, the harness clung to me like a security blanket. But instead of feeling secure, I couldn't shake this overpowering sense of helplessness. My hands, once free to reach for the radio or grab a snack, were now confined within the restrictive embrace of the car seat's harness. Everything in front and around me taunted me, just out of reach. The rhythmic hum of the engine became a backdrop to my internal monologue. "Is this really necessary? Strapped in like a two-year-old, unable to reach for anything, not even the dignity of handling a simple road trip," I grumbled to myself, acutely aware of the babyish scenario I found myself in. As the journey continued, Mommy, reached into on of the diaper bags positioned in the bottom of the car and two baby bottles. One for Jack and one for me. Unable to reach for anything other than what was handed to me, I gladly accepted the bottle, hoping to find some comfort in the soft rubber nipple. "Here you go, sweetie. A little something to make the ride extra special." I cradled the bottle, the nipple between my lips, as I suckled away strapped the harnessed over MY oversized car seat. Sitting there, bottle in hand, Jack and I formed an unlikely duo. We sipped in unison, the rhythmic sound of sucking providing an unintentional symphony to the hum of the road. Mommy, glancing in the rearview mirror, beamed with satisfaction. As the miles rolled by the plush padding of the car seat, already compressed by the snug harness, welcomed the inevitable as I released a warm stream into my diaper. I tried shifting my weight, but found myself unable to do so, as I the harness held me tight in place and I was left with nothing to do but to wait for the diaper to soak up my accident. As the steady stream of urine continued and my diaper slowly started to swell the harness only getting tighter and tighter around my groin. In an attempt to distract myself from the peculiar circumstances, I fumbled around and found a pacifier tucked away in the pocket of my shorts. I quickly popped it into my mouth, the silicone nipple providing a sense of comfort and diversion. As the rhythmic sucking on the pacifier commenced, Mommy, glanced back, catching sight of my pacifier-clad countenance and chuckled softly. "Looks like someone's enjoying their binky. Such a sweet baby," she cooed. The rhythmic sucking, combined with the crinkling of the wet diaper, created an oddly soothing symphony. Fatigue settled in, perhaps brought on by the peculiar blend of vulnerability and helplessness. The pacifier and humming of the car, lulled me into a drowsy state. Slowly I found myself succumbing to the weariness. The plushy embrace of the car seat, the lingering warmth of the wet diaper, and the rhythmic sucking on the pacifier became a curious lullaby. With a gentle surrender, I closed my eyes and drifted into an uneasy slumber. The engine's soft hum ceased, signaling the end of this peculiar adventure. Mommy, with an affectionate grin, turned around to face me in my plushy fortress. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her voice a delightful symphony of baby talk. "Did my little one have sweet dreams?" All I could muster from my lingering drowsiness was a small smile, from behind my dummy, as I slowly returned from my slumber. As I tried rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the car door quickly opened and Mom greeted me with a gently pat on my diapered crotch. "Time to wake up, precious.” The harness, which had snugly embraced me throughout the journey, now became the focal point of Mommy's attention. The familiar series of clicks and pops echoed as Mommy diligently unstrapped me from the car seat. "There we go, my little explorer, all free from the snugly hugs!" she exclaimed, her hands moving with the fluidity of a seasoned caregiver. She slowly guided me out of the car, as I let out a huge yawn making my dummy fall from my mouth and onto the pavement below. "Did my sweet baby enjoy the ride? Yes, him did!" she continued, narrating my supposed delights with infectious enthusiasm. “You just go on ahead, I’ll put the carseat in the garage!” Aunty Karen proclaimed, already in the middle of unloading my new carseat from her minivan. “Thank you, Karen. We’ll tell Rob that you’re waiting outside!” Mom answered back as she lead me towards the house. “Wait a minute!? Uncle Rob is here!?” The haze finally cleared from my mind as I scanned the driveway and stopped Robs truck sitting to the far right. Mommy's baby talk persisted as she opened the front door and lead me inside. "Let's get you inside, little munchkin." she cooed, the words a gentle melody. Mommy, with an undeniable sense of whimsy, knelt down to assist me with my shoes. "Time to get those little tootsies free, my sweetheart!" she exclaimed, her hands deftly working on the laces with a playful touch. Holding a tight grip of my hand, she continued navigated through the house. As Mommy and I made our way through the house, a familiar voice resonated from the living room. "Well, well, look who's back!" Uncle Rob's cheerful greeting filled the air, punctuating the surreal ambiance with a touch of familial warmth. Mommy, undeterred greeted Uncle Rob with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Hello, Rob! Is everything ready?” Just in time for the grand tour!" he exclaimed, falling in step with Mommy and me as we navigated through the house. My confused started to build. “What was Rob during in our house, when we weren’t home? Where are we going? What grand tour?” As we approached my bedroom, the door came into view. To my surprise, it was adorned with vibrant, colorful letter blocks that spelled out my name. "Patrick's Room," it declared. “What is going on?” I stammered, not able to take my eyes off the wooden letters that decorated the door. With a theatrical flourish, Mommy turned to me and exclaimed, " You’ll have to open the door to find out, my sweet baby!" Still in a sleepy haze from the drive and with a mixed of confusion and panicked, I carefully grabbed the doorknob and turned it, as the door swung open. I almost tumbled backwards, as my world started to swirl and my brain almost exploded. In the center of the room stood a gigantic crib, adorned with a mobile suspended from the ceiling. The mobile swirled with an array of plush racecars, gently rotating to a melody that seemed to whisper the nostalgia of childhood. The bars of the crib, painted in vibrant colors, created a playful contrast against the soft, racecar-themed carpet that covered the floor of my former bedroom. Adjacent to the crib stood my fully stocked changing table, equipped with an array of diapers, wipes, and powders neatly arranged in organizer baskets. The changing pad, still adorned with a racecar-patterned cover, matching the design of the crib and bedding. A large cozy rocking chair, with plush cushions featuring racecar motifs, sat in one corner of the nursery. The perfect spot for bedtime stories and gentle lullabies. Nearby stood a massive playpen, filled with an assortment of soft toys and plush animals. The walls, adorned with colorful racecar-themed décor, created an immersive environment that transported one into a world of childlike wonder. Cheerful racecar decals adorned the walls, creating a playful backdrop that extended the theme throughout the nursery. Mommy, with an expression of delight, gestured towards the room. "Look at your wonderful nursery, sweetie! Isn't it just perfect for my little racecar enthusiast?" she cooed, her enthusiasm adding a layer of enchantment to the already magical space. I stood frozen in a state of shock Uncle Rob, standing beside Mommy, grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Mommy, however, seemed genuinely delighted as she turned to Uncle Rob, her gratitude evident in the warmth of her expression. "Rob, you really outdid yourself!" Mommy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. Uncle Rob nodded, a proud grin stretching across his face. "I can’t take all the credit. Lot of the furniture came from C2C, but, I figured if we were going all-in on the car theme, might as well make it unforgettable. Patrick's got his very own racecar paradise now!" Mommy turned towards me, her eyes alight with joy. "Patrick, sweetheart, isn't it just perfect? Uncle Rob worked so hard to make it special for you!" Still grappling with the surreal transformation of my room, I couldn’t muster a single word. Mommy turning back to back to Uncle Rob, her voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "Rob, this is beyond amazing. It's more than I could have ever imagined." Uncle Rob waved off the thanks with a nonchalant gesture. "Ah, it was nothing. Just wanted to add a touch of magic to Pattie’s room." As they continued to chat about the details of the nursery, my mind raced to comprehend the extent of Uncle Rob's efforts. The crib, the mobile, the changing table—all meticulously crafted Mommy, still beaming with gratitude, noticed my stunned expression. "Patrick, sweetheart, what do you think? Do you like your new nursery?" she asked, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. I couldn't contain the flood of emotions surging through me as I gazed at the nursery. The racecar-themed haven felt like a mockery of adulthood. In that moment, a storm of realization and frustration erupted within me. The weight of the day's absurdities crashed down, and I felt the tears welling up. Without warning, an overwhelming surge of anger, confusion, and helplessness took hold. I trembled with a mixture of emotions, the nursery's whimsy now a source of overwhelming distress. Without a moment's notice, I found myself screaming, my vocal cords straining against the pent-up turmoil within. The raw, unfiltered wails echoed through the room, a symphony of anguish that reverberated against the racecar-themed walls. I thrashed about, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to reclaim a sense of control. Mommy, her joyous expression replaced by concern, rushed towards me, her attempts to console lost amid the storm of my tantrum. Drool dripped down my chin as incoherent cries continued to escape, my mind caught in a whirlwind of protest against the infantile fate that had befallen me. The nursery, once a whimsical haven, became the arena for my tumultuous tantrum. The toys, the crib, the racecar mobile—all transformed into witnesses to a grown man's emotional unraveling. Mommy, grappling with the sudden intensity of my breakdown, tried her best to soothe me. Yet, my screams persisted. Amidst the chaos of my tantrum, I managed to blurt out, "I'm still an adult! This is ridiculous!" My words, though muffled by my cries, carried a desperation to reassert my grown-up identity. Mommy, trying to calm the storm, kneeled beside me and responded, "Oh, sweetie" "No! I have a job, bills, responsibilities! This can't be real!" I protested, my attempts to reason drowned out by the persistent wails. Mommy, with a gentle yet firm demeanor, began to counter each of my arguments. "Darling, you’re paying any bills. Mommy takes care of everything. And you haven’t written a single word on your article, in god knows how long." I shook my head in disbelief, drool still streaming down my face. "But I can't just be a baby! I need to—" "Shh, hush now, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about anything. Not right now. You're safe and loved” Mommy interrupted, her words a gentle dismissal of my adult concerns. As the tantrum continued, I tried one last desperate argument. "I can speak, I can argue, I'm not a baby!" My tantrum had reached a fever pitch, the nursery echoing with my cries. The nursery was already a cacophony of emotions when an unfortunate realization struck—my diaper, strained by the intensity of the tantrum and the mess within, had reached its limits. A subtle warmth spread across the lower regions, accompanied by a distinct sensation of dampness that transcended the confines of the diaper. As I continued to wail and protest, the leakage became increasingly evident. The soft crinkle of the diaper, now laden with the weight of its contents, seemed to amplify the humiliating reality of the situation. A faint trickle reached the nursery floor, creating a small pool of evidence that mirrored the messy climax of my emotional breakdown. The scent of a messy diaper, once contained, now mingled with the air in the nursery. "Oh, my little one," Mommy cooed, her voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos. She reached down, delicately patting my diapered bottom as if to acknowledge the unavoidable leakage. Mommy, recognizing the predicament, signaled for Uncle Rob to step in. In the midst of my emotional storm, Uncle Rob gently scooped me up into his strong arms, his familiar touch offering a strange sense of comfort amid the chaos. My protests persisted, but my cries were muffled as Uncle Rob cradled me, his steps purposeful as he carried me towards the changing table. The changing table, with its array of neatly organized supplies, awaited like a stage for the next act in this surreal drama. As Uncle Rob gently laid me down, the soft crinkle of the changing mat beneath me seemed to amplify the vulnerability of the moment. Mommy, now wearing a look of calm determination, approached with a fresh diaper in hand. Uncle Rob, understanding his role in this peculiar routine, secured the straps on the changing table, ensuring I remained securely in place. I continued to wail, my struggles against the inevitable confinement met with the firmness of the changing table restraints. The nursery, once a place of whimsy, now transformed into a theater of vulnerability. Mommy, with practiced efficiency, began the task of undoing the tapes on my soiled diaper. The room was filled with a medley of scents—the familiar aroma of baby powder mingling with the less pleasant reminders of my tantrum-induced mess. As Mommy expertly wiped away the evidence of my emotional release unfazed by the mess and my continued protests, skillfully secured the fresh diaper in place. The nursery, once filled with the echoes of my tantrum, now carried the scent of baby powder and the promise of a clean beginning. With the changing routine complete, Uncle Rob released the straps, allowing him to lift me off the table. Despite my protests and the lingering scent of the messy diaper, they had a plan in mind—one that involved settling me down for a nap in the racecar-themed crib that now dominated the nursery. With my emotions still in tumult, Uncle Rob gently transferred me from the changing table to confines of the crib. The bars, once whimsically painted in vibrant colors, now seemed like barriers closing in around me. The plush mobile above danced with racecar motifs, casting playful shadows that added a surreal touch to the nursery's atmosphere. Mommy, with practiced ease, reached for a soft blanket and tucked it around me, a symbolic gesture to signify the transition into naptime. I squirmed against the encroaching confinement, my wails echoing through the nursery, pleading to be spared from the imposition of an unwanted nap. "Shh, sweetie, it's time for a little nap," Mommy cooed, her attempts at comfort met with my vehement protests. The fresh diaper beneath me, a reminder of the recent change. In the midst of my tantrum, Mommy's attempts to comfort me took on soothing words aiming to pacify my tumultuous emotions. "Aw, is my wittle sweetheart feeling all fussy?" Mommy cooed, her voice adopting a playful lilt as she gently guided me towards the crib. Uncle Rob, a pillar of support in this peculiar routine, stood by, ready to assist in the delicate transition. With each coo and comforting touch, Mommy's baby talk intensified. "It's naptime, my precious one. Time for a little sleepy-poo," she continued, her words a blend of affection and playful insistence. Despite my grown-up protests, Mommy remained steadfast in her commitment to guide me through this regression journey. "Mommy knows best, doesn't she, wittle one?" she added, her voice adopting a singsong quality that seemed to echo in the racecar-themed nursery. "I'm not a baby! I'm not a toddler! This... this is too much!" I shouted "I don't want a nap! I'm not a baby!" I protested, my voice wavering with a mix of anger and despair. Mommy, however, persisted with the conviction that a nap could quell the storm within. "I'm not a baby! I don't belong in here!" I pleaded, my voice strained with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. The crib's confines, once familiar in my distant past, now felt like an unwelcome prison. Mommy, undeterred by my childlike protests, introduced a pacifier into the mix. "Here's a binky for my little one. Time to hush those fussy-wussy cries," she playfully insisted, the pacifier adding an extra layer of surreal comfort to the enforced nap. With a firm yet gentle touch, she pulled the soft blankets over me, cocooning me within the crib's embrace. Her reassurances lingered in the air, but the weight of my perceived helplessness drowned out the comforting words. As Mommy continued her baby talk, she active the race car mobile above with a gentle touch. The playful shadows danced across the nursery walls, adding an odd sense of whimsy to the enforced nap. "Nighty-night, my little one. Mommy loves you," she whispered, her words a final assurance before she and Uncle Rob exited the nursery, leaving me alone in the crib. The mobile's soft melody accompanied the dimming nursery lights, creating an atmosphere of surreal tranquility. However, my tantrum showed no signs of abating. Fueled by the conflicting emotions of frustration and helplessness, I attempted to resist the enforced nap. With a burst of childlike determination, I clutched the crib bars and attempted to pull myself up. The walls, once merely decorative, became barriers, confining me within the crib's racecar-themed embrace. The realization struck—I was trapped, my adult strength no match for the confines of the oversized nursery crib. As I attempted to escape, the mobile above continued its whimsical dance, the nursery transformed into a peculiar battleground of regression. The more I struggled, the more apparent it became that I belonged in this nursery, with its cozy blankets, pacifiers, and racecar motifs. As the realization of my confined state set in, defeated sobs replaced the echoes of my tantrum. Abandoned by Mommy and Uncle Rob, the mobile continued its gentle dance above, casting playful shadows on the walls. The nursery lights dimmed further, creating an atmosphere that mirrored the emotional exhaustion that enveloped me. With each hiccuping breath, I succumbed to the inevitability of the enforced nap. The bars of the crib, once perceived as barriers, now became a strangely comforting enclosure, cocooning me in the midst of the nursery. As the sobs subsided, a strange quiet settled over the room. The mobile's melody, initially a playful tune, now served as a lullaby for me as I surrounded a nap that I had so adamantly resisted. In the dim glow of the nursery, surrounded by racecar motifs and plush blankets, I succumbed to the peculiar blend of exhaustion and acceptance. The crib cradled me in its embrace as I cried myself into an uneasy slumber.

Matilda stood in front of Mr. Larson, nervously stepping from foot to foot despite the pain in her stomach. The laxative had done nothing but give her cramps. She had tried to go several times before they left for school, but Matilda was able to produce nothing but small amounts of gas. “Well that wasn’t very smart of you, was it, child genius?” He had the note Miss Honey had written out explaining her situation. Matilda clenched her hands into fists by her sides. “You should have waited until the weekend to flush your system, not midweek when you know you can’t leave class. And why was this written by your former teacher?” “She’s my mom.” Matilda said through clenched teeth. “So that’s why you had so much special treatment.” He sneered, making Matilda begin to see red. “Well a note from mommy isn’t going to fly either. Come back with a doctor's note if it’s so bad.” Matilda was silently growling now. It was so unfair! She spotted the coffee sitting on his desk. If he wanted to be so petty, then she would too! She focused her eyes and commanded in her head for the cup to tip over. It wobbled a bit before crashing down as a satisfying wave of brown liquid coated his desk. She let out her held breath and walked to her seat as Mr. Larson scrambled to clean up the mess. When Matilda took her seat, she turned her head to find Hortensia smirking at her. “I know what you did.” She whispered. “He made me mad.” Matilda muttered. She wasn’t in the mood to play innocent. She was worried the laxative would kick in at the most in opportune time possible, even if the cramping had stopped an hour ago. Her stunt had bought them all an extra ten minutes, as Mr. Larson ran back and forth with paper towels while he grumbled about his cheap, uneven desk. “I told you he’s a dick.” Hortensia whispered. Matilda nodded her head in agreement, now feeling a tad guilty about not taking her serious before. She had always assumed Hortensia had deserved whatever punishment she was given, minus the chokey of course. While he was nothing compared to the Trunchbull, he was even farther from the kind woman she had grown accustomed to who cared deeply for each of her students. Maybe there was once a time Mr. Larson enjoyed teaching, but as the day went on, Matilda was convinced he had lost whatever passion he had for it long ago. He droned on in a bored voice that made Matilda feel sleepy. It was an hour and a half before lunch when one of her fears came to fruition. While it wasn’t the worst case scenario, she found her full bladder to be increasingly painful. Matilda tried shifted her weight, focusing on her textbook, and even daydreaming about what she could do to him with her powers when realization dawned that she wasn’t going to win this round. The blockage was putting too much pressure on her bladder, and vice versa. The longer she tried to hold it, the more pain she was in and the more obvious she was making her situation. “Wormwood, sit up and sit still!” Mr. Larson barked. Matilda flinched and instinctively obeyed, but as soon as she did, her body had thrown in the white towel. She tried desperately to act natural as she felt the pull-up under her growing warm and expanding. A mixture of disgust and relief intertwined inside her as the excess pressure eased away. “That’s cheating. Suffer like the rest of us.” Hortensia whispered. Matilda could feel her face begin to glow bright red. Hortensia snickered. “I was just joking, but the look on your face says it’s true. Have fun sitting in it until lunch.” If there was one thing Matilda hated more than having to use a pull-up, it was having to sit in it afterwards. She took her frustrations out on Mr. Larson, inconveniencing him in any little way she could manage. If he threw a crumpled up piece of paper towards the trashcan, Matilda would make sure he would miss, if he set anything on his desk, she’d knock it over. “Someone’s feeling a little feisty today, I like it.” Hortensia said once they had been dismissed for lunch. Matilda shrugged and picked up her backpack. The only thing on her mind now was changing. She was almost to the door when she heard Mr. Larson’s grating voice. “Wormwood, backpacks stay in the classroom.” Matilda sucked in a breath of air. “I need something out of it.” She said. “Then take what you need and leave your backpack here.” “It’s personal.” She said through clenched teeth. There was no way she was going to carry a pull-up around class and down the hall like it was nothing. “What, don’t tell me you’re on your period.” He said sarcastically. Matilda bit her cheek in annoyance before dropping her bag back at her desk. She opened it and stared at what she needed. She didn’t even have a sweater to hide it in. Matilda zipped up her backpack and put it back under her seat. She’d have to go without and hope she didn’t have another accident today. Once in the bathroom stall, she got to work trying to clean herself up. She wished she had a wet wipe instead of the cheap, single sheets of school toilet paper. She looked down at her dress. It was going to feel weird going without underwear. Maybe she should stay inside in case it gets windy. “Yo, runt, that you?” Hortensia called out. “Yes.” Matilda grumbled. She heard footsteps approaching her stall door before a hand slid under the bottom holding… oh no! She yanked the pull-up out of Hortensia’s hand. “Did you pull that out of my backpack? Did anyone see you?” “No one saw, relax. I put it under my shirt when no one was looking.” Matilda was about to snap at her for going through her things, but stopped. She looked at the pull-up. She really did need it. “Thanks.” She bent over to try and put it on, but groaned in pain. How was she going to get this on? After stumbling, banging into the wall and dropping the pull-up several times, she groaned in frustration. “I can’t do it!” “Sorry, my help stops at delivery.” Hortensia said. “I’m not diapering you.” “I wasn’t asking you to.” Matilda said. She sat on the toilet and tried to catch her breath, feeling weak and dizzy from not eating. Even sitting down, she couldn’t reach far enough. Now what was she going to do? “I’ll be right back.” Hortensia called. Now what was she up to? Matilda sat, feeling angry and frustrated. She was tired of being in pain, and she was tired of dealing with one adult after another who treated kids like trash. Matilda froze when she heard the door open again. “I brought reinforcements.” Hortensia called. “Sweetie, is everything okay? Hortensia said you needed my help with something.” Miss Honey’s voice called out. “Hortensia!” Matilda groaned. “It’s nothing, mo- Miss Honey.” Matilda sighed, this really was what she needed, she’d better not send her away. “I can’t get a new thing on. My stomach hurts too much to bend over.” “Can you open the door?” Matilda slowly got to her feet and unlatched the door. “Dear, you look awful.” Miss Honey said. “Why are you so out of breath? And you’re all sweaty.” “From trying to get it on.” Matilda mumbled. “Come on out, let’s go somewhere with more space. Where is it?” Matilda pointed to a corner in the stall. “Sorry, I dropped it and couldn’t pick it back up.” “It’s all right, I got it. Let’s go in the big stall, and I’ll help you.” Miss Honey ushered her in and closed the door behind them. She bent down and held the pull-up open. “Can you step in?” Matilda did, and Miss Honey hoisted it up her legs for her. “There, all done.” “Thank you.” Matilda mumbled. “Matilda, did you have an accident during class?” She asked softly. “What about the note? Did you not give it to him?” “I did, but-” Matilda hung her head. “He was a total dick to her. I saw.” Hortensia called out. Matilda could see Miss Honey’s naturally gentle expression begin to harden. “How so?” She called back out. Matilda winced as Hortensia filled her in. Miss Honey let out an angry sort of huff, before her expression softened again. “Was it from the laxative?” she whispered. “No, it just hurt too much to hold, I’m sorry. It wasn’t on purpose.” “Sweetie, You don’t have to apologize. I know it wasn’t on purpose. I’m concerned because the medicine from last night didn’t work like we expected.” Miss Honey sighed. “I’m sorry, Matilda, but I need to take you into the doctor today.” “What? No! I’ll be fine!” Matilda insisted, unlatching the stall door and stepping out. “Matilda,” Miss Honey said softly. “Something’s wrong, you couldn’t even put on a pull-up by yourself. I need to get you checked out.” “You do look like shit.” Hortensia chimed in. “Language.” Miss Honey said, but her eyes never left Matilda’s face. “Let’s go talk to Mr. Trilby and see if I can leave early.” “Can’t we give it another day and try the medicine again tonight?” “Honey, you look like you’re about to collapse at any moment. You’re not eating, you can hardly move, in fact here,” Matilda whimpered in pain as Miss Honey picked her up, but rested her head against Miss Honey’s shoulder as her mom walked down the hall. Matilda couldn’t help but tense when she saw Mr. Larson coming up the opposite way. She was about to ask Miss Honey to put her down, but he had already spotted them. “Miss Wormwood, what do you think you’re doing? You should be in the cafeteria, you can’t just run to your mommy every break.” Matilda could feel Miss Honey tighten her grip around her. “She’s sick.” “That’s no excuse, Miss Honey, we have rules in this school. Maybe if you hadn’t coddled her in your class she’d adapt quicker.” Matilda could feel herself practically getting squeezed now. It was as if Jenny was afraid he would pluck the girl from her arms. “I’m taking her to the doctor, she can hardly move. And I wasn’t coddling her, do you really expect someone with her intellect to sit there and listen to me teach the class their Abc’s when she can already do long division in her head? And what’s this I hear about you not honoring my note?” Miss Honey said, her tone growing lower and more dangerous. Mr. Larson scoffed. “Who gives a child a laxative on a school night? Why couldn’t you wait until the weekend? Or how about waiting until after school to take her to the doctor? Do you always set such a poor example? Don’t you have a class to teach? Shirking your responsibilities for the whims of one child.” He shook his head. “Wait until after school?” Miss Honey’s voice was rising now. “For all I know, her god-damn appendix is going to burst!” Matilda whimpered. Her appendix? She hadn’t even thought of it being anything serious! And wow! She’d rarely ever heard Jenny swear before and never at a teacher! “My responsibilities are to her first, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to Mr. Trilby’s office, telling him I’m leaving, and then we are going to get on a bus and go to the hospital.” “There’s no need.” A voice said from behind them. Matilda could feel Jenny tense as she slowly turned to find Mr. Trilby standing there. “I’ll give you a ride.” … “Thank you, sir.” Miss Honey said. “I’m sorry for all the commotion, that really wasn’t like me and-” “We’ll talk about it later.” Mr. Trilby said as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. “I hope everything is well.” “Me too.” Miss Honey said quietly, before collecting Matilda from the back seat and carrying her inside. … “Well, the good news is her appendix is just fine. ” the doctor said. “There’s no sign of a fever or infection, and the ultrasound came back normal.” They both let out their held breath. Matilda had spent the entire ultrasound looking at the screen trying to tell if anything looked like it was going to blow. “So it really is just trapped gas?” Miss Honey asked. “Well, no, it’s not that either.” “Then what is it?” Miss Honey asked. “It’s nothing serious, she’s just constipated. It’s common in young children, especially if they’ve been through anything stressful recently. Usually, I’d just send her home with recommendations on dietary changes, things like eat more fiber, drink more water, and suggest an over the counter laxative.” “Oh, I’m so relieved.” Miss Honey said. Matilda winced. Why had he said “usually”? “In her case though, I don’t like a few things here. One being the fact that she hasn’t been able to eat, and two, how distended her belly is.” He lifted Matilda’s gown and pointed out the raised areas. “She’s not going to need surgery, is she?” Miss Honey asked. “Oh no, no nothing like that, but we are going to help her get all that nasty stuff out of her system before she leaves. A nurse is going to come and perform a simple irrigation of her bowels.” “No!” Matilda nearly shouted. “Not that, please!” She made herself into a ball despite the pain and hugged her knees. “But, Matilda, sweetheart, once it’s over you’re going to feel a lot better.” Miss Honey stood up and began to gently rub circles on Matilda’s back. “You promised!” Matilda said, whose voice now cracked with sobs. “You promised they wouldn’t!” “Sweetie, when did I promise that?” Miss Honey asked gently. “Last night!” Matilda choked out. Miss Honey thought back to their conversation and cringed with realization. “Oh, Matilda, I thought you were talking about that test with the camera. I didn’t realize you were referring to this.” “Please, don’t let them.” Matilda begged. Miss Honey bit her lip. She had never seen Matilda like this, and it broke her heart. “Is there any other option?” Miss Honey asked. “Something less…invasive?” “I mean, I could recommend over the counter laxatives, but that would take several days to clear the entire thing, and to be honest, I wouldn’t feel right sending her home like this. This really is the fastest and safest method.” Miss Honey pinched her eyes closed before stroking Matilda’s head. “I’m sorry, baby, but it needs to be done.” she whispered before nodding her approval to the doctor. She would have normally taken Matilda’s wishes into more consideration, but it was clear she wasn’t acting herself. “It’ll be okay, sweetie, it will! You’ve been through so much worse than this.” Matilda didn’t say anything. “Compared to everything else, this is nothing.” Jenny whispered as she continued to stroke her back. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” She smiled as she saw Matilda slowly nod her head. “There’s my brave girl. It’ll all be over soon.” “Do you think she’d be able to make it to the bathroom in time?” A nurse asked, wheeling in an IV pole with a bag and tubing attached. “Probably not.” “That’s alright, It’s a little far from here for this anyway.” Miss Honey had noticed that too. Matilda would be a wreck if she had an accident out in the hall. She shuddered to think what her powers might do. “Unfortunately, the bathroom isn’t a sterile environment, otherwise we’d do it there. It would make our jobs much easier.” Miss Honey watched as she fiddled with the equipment, before donning a fresh pair of gloves. “Alright, Matilda, are you ready?” Matilda shook her head and whimpered. Miss Honey walked to the other side of the bed, and took a seat, so she was now face to face with the terrified girl, before scooting up as close as possible. “Give me your hand. It’s alright, you can get through this.” Matilda reached over and grabbed onto Jenny’s outstretched hand and squeezed. “That’s it.” The small girl let out a loud whimper and grimaced. “You’re doing good.” The nurse said. Jenny’s eyes shifted from the bag as it slowly began to empty and back to the trembling girl’s tear streaked face. “Now you’re going to feel the need to go right away, but I want you to try and hold it for at least five minutes.” Matilda clutched her stomach and let out a panicked sounding moan. “The bag’s almost empty, you’re doing great.” “Mommy!” Matilda began to cry. “I can’t!” “Yes you can. I’m right here, just keep squeezing my hand.” Miss Honey said. Gone was the overly mature child genius and in its place laid the trembling and terrified five-year-old girl. Jenny watched as sweat began to mix with the child’s tears. “You did it, it’s all gone. I just need you to hold it in a little while longer.” the nurse said, removing the cord. “I can’t!” Matilda cried. She was writhing and twisting on the bed, and judging by the smell, some of the concoction had already begun to leak out. Jenny’s heart ached. No wonder she didn’t want to do this. “You’re halfway there, sweetie. Just a little bit longer.” Jenny said. She looked around the room. Where exactly were they going to have her release it? She was going to blow any minute. Jenny met eyes with the nurse with the stopwatch before noticing someone coming in with a familiar looking plastic object. Oh, Matilda wasn’t going to like this, Jenny thought as she took in the moaning girl on the bed. Then again, she might not even care at this point. Jenny watched as the second person lifted Matilda’s gown, which was now clearly soiled and stained. “Let’s just take this off you, actually.” He quickly untied the strings and threw it in the laundry hamper, before rolling Matilda onto the bed pan. “One more minute. You can do it.” “I-I can’t!” Jenny watched the clock in the corner of the room. 50 more seconds. 45 seconds. 40 seconds. But when the clock hit 37 seconds, Matilda’s body said, “no more” and began to release. “It’s alright, that’s close enough.” the nurse said. “You did good, kid.” “That’s it, you’re doing great.” Jenny said, giving Matilda’s hand a squeeze. “It’ll all be over soon, just let it all out.” But it was clear to Miss Honey, and anyone within a 20 yard radius, that Matilda couldn’t have stopped it even if she wanted to. “How are you doing there, mom? You’re looking a little green.” “I-I’m okay.” Miss Honey said, fighting the urge to gag. She had seen more than she ought to have when they had switched out the pans and the smell was nearly unbearable. How had all that come out of such a small girl? No wonder her stomach had hurt. “Feel free to step out into the hall if you need to for some fresh air. These clean outs are never pretty. Some of these have even turned our more seasoned veteran’s stomach’s to putty. One older gentleman we had insisted he could make it to the bathroom, only made it halfway, and one of our orderlies slipped in it and fell.” “Oof.” Miss Honey groaned, that story had done nothing to help her stomach. “But seriously, the worst is over now.” Jenny looked down at Matilda, who laid out on the bed looking shell shocked and exhausted. The episodes were coming further and further apart now. “I think I will get some air, thank you.” Jenny said. She stood up to leave, but found Matilda’s hand still gripping hers tightly. “Please don’t go.” Matilda mumbled. Jenny immediately sat back down and clasped Matilda’s hand in both of hers. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” She pressed Matilda’s hand to her lips and gave it a kiss. Once things had all calmed down and Matilda had fallen asleep, Jenny turned when she heard one of the nurses speak to her. “I noticed she was wearing a pull-up when she came in. Has she been having trouble with toilet training?” Miss Honey shook her head. “Bed wetting mostly, and some issues at school. Her new teacher is…” Miss Honey clenched her fists and made a frustrated grunting sound. “He doesn’t let students use the bathroom during class.” “What kind of teacher doesn’t let first year children use the bathroom? Does he really expect them to hold it?” “She recently transferred to year five, and he won’t make an exception to the rules for her. Her body just isn’t developed enough to compare to the older children. I don’t know what he’s thinking.” “Year five?” The nurse asked wide-eyed. Miss Honey smiled and nodded. “She should actually be in year seven, but I’m not ready for her to leave the school I teach at. I want to keep her close just a little while longer. “What school is that?” “Crunchem Hall.” The nurse’s eyes went wide. “You haven’t heard? They haven’t announced it yet?” “Announced what?” “My husbands a member of the education board. They’ve been trying for years to build a secondary school in that lot across from it, but that headmistress kept refusing. She was out voted last month. They haven’t decided if it will be a separate school, or an addition to Crunchem Hall, but if it is, you’d be able to have her there with you all the way to year 13.” It was the first Jenny had heard of this. Could she really watch over Matilda until she was done with mandatory education? At the rate she learned and absorbed information, she’d be done and off to university before she was even ten. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. “That would be wonderful.” “And not to change the subject, but you might see an improvement with the bed-wetting now. The impacted stool could have been putting pressure on the bladder. It’s another common symptom.” Could it really be so simple? “But this has been going on for months.” “That blockage didn’t form overnight either.” Could this really not be my fault, Jenny wondered. Was it possible it was nothing overly complicated as a psychic connection after all, but just run-of-the-mill constipation? “Last month she was sick with the stomach bug. Wouldn’t that have cleared a blockage though? The bed-wetting has been going on long before then.” “It’s possible it went around, but I’m just speculating.” “I certainly hope that’s all this was. She’s very self-conscious about it.” …………………………………… “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” Miss Honey said, hugging the girl in her lap to her chest as they rode the bus back towards home. It was clear Matilda was still cross with her over the whole situation. The diaper Miss Honey had requested in case another episode struck while on the bus wasn’t helping either. “I bet you feel much better though.” She kissed the top of the girl's head. Matilda grumbled something Jenny couldn’t quite catch, but didn’t try to pull away. After another twenty minutes, she was sitting sideways, with her arms wrapped around Jenny’s stomach and her head resting on her chest while Jenny stroked her back. “You did so well in there. I’m so proud of you.” Miss Honey whispered in her ear. “How about we stop at the store on the way home and pick up some ice cream?” Matilda grunted into Jenny’s shirt. “So you don’t want any ice cream?” Matilda pulled her head away a few inches. “I didn’t say that.” …………… After dinner, ice cream, and a long soak in the tub, Matilda climbed into bed without bothering to put on a nightshirt and turned off her bedside lamp. “You don’t want to read tonight?” Miss Honey asked. Matilda shook her head. She was too exhausted. “Should we just go to sleep then?” Matilda nodded before she noticed Jenny doing something out of character. She eyed Miss Honey out of the corner of her eye as she began to undress for bed, something she had always done in the privacy of the bathroom. Instead of putting on one of her nightgowns, she slipped under the covers next to Matilda and gave her a shy sort of uncomfortable smile. “Do you want to cuddle for a bit?” Matilda did. Very much so. “I hate it.” Matilda mumbled, now spread out and relaxed in Jenny’s arms. “This?” Miss Honey asked confused. “Mr. Larson’s class.” Jenny sighed. The kids hadn’t been exaggerating. He really was, a, a- well, that thing they had drawn. “Well, now you have all the necessary doctor’s notes, and I have a meeting with Mr. Trilby first thing in the morning.” “Us?” Matilda asked. Jenny sighed again. “No, me and Mr. Trilby. He set it up. I think I’m in trouble for leaving, but you know what, I’d do it all over again.” She squeezed Matilda tight. “But you better believe I’m going to give him an earful about that teacher of yours.” Matilda smiled in the darkness as she felt Jenny’s chest rise and fall with every breath. Miss Honey sure had come a long way.

39 - Appointments “Emily? Come on, we’re going to be late for your appointment! Let’s get your shoes on!” Joyce called from the slate entrance, dangling a pair of smaller-footed sneakers from her fingers. “Can’t we go another day…?” a voice traveled back from a different room. “I’m not feeling too good…!” “I’m sorry you feel that way, hon,” but Joyce wasn’t sorry that she wasn’t born yesterday, “I can schedule an appointment with Dr. Hall for you while we’re at the dentist?” Silence. The sound of deteriorating negotiations. “...I’m not going!” By this point, maybe Joyce was the fool for thinking she could get away with just a beck and call and expect total compliance. “Fussy, fussy, fussy…” she muttered, debating whether it was something to smile over, or find the strength to be stern. Emily was laying on the bed, half of her face buried in Pip, but her eyes were immediately on Joyce once she stood beside the door frame. In her eyes were the fear of God and the inner child that was digging its heels. Or adult. Whichever it was, it was indignant. “Emily. We are going to the dentist.” “I’m fine! I brush my teeth! I floss!” Emily truly whined, and it wasn’t a gleeful one. “And that doesn’t mean you get to just skip out on regular visits!” Joyce huffed. “What if you have a cavity and you don’t know it? Or you have something else going on that you won’t find out until it’s too late?” Emily’s first answer was to squeeze Pip tighter. Of all places, not the dentist. A person poking around in your mouth with sharp tools? Absolutely not. Maybe once upon a time, ten or so odd years ago she had parents that forced her to go, but now she was a full-grown adult capable of making her own decisions. And yet, as Joyce stood there with a hand on her hip, even Emily felt her agency evaporating. “I…I feel fine. My teeth are okay.” And yet her words were only more rope to hang herself with. Joyce readily countered with, “Great, so then that means we’ll be in and out once we go?” “I’m not going, Joyce! I hate the dentist! I’ll go when I actually need to! I’m an adult!” How did this even happen? All that stupid talk about running out of toothpaste and mentioning Joyce’s earlier appointment… Why did she have to get roped into her girlfriend’s routine? Six months a visit? Sure, that’s on her, but not Emily! “Yes, you are an adult, but I’m only going to respect your decisions if they’re responsible and mature ones. Emily, honey, I get that you don’t like the dentist, but you know that it’s for your own good?” Emily grumbled, pressing her hands down, determined not to move, chained to her tree no matter the bulldozer that came her way. “Is that a yes? So you agree with me?” Joyce taunted. An easy way to tease an answer. “No!” Emily shouted right back. “Emily, if I have to carry you down to the car, do not think I won’t. If you want to eat tasty food and have sweets and dessert, you need to have a good set of teeth, and that means going to the dentist regularly.” “Then I’m done having sweets!” Emily spat, finding the ultimatum that never really existed. Joyce crossed her arms, hardly a believer in the change of attitude. “So you’re done? No sweets ever again? No ice cream, no chocolate, or those milkshakes that you like?” “Nope.” She wasn’t even thinking, simply too focused on avoiding the dentist at all costs. “So then you’re done with the pancakes I make too? Is that it? Same for your milk?” “...Mhm…” Maybe she hadn’t really thought it through, but if this is what it took to call off the visit… “No more banana pancakes, you know that, right?” One too many buttons had been pushed and Emily for a moment was all cylinders, finally coming out with it. “--THE DENTIST SCARES ME!” “I can tell that much…” Joyce sighed with a seat taken on the edge of the bed. Yet somehow this put Emily for total shock. “A-and you’re still making me go?!” “It doesn’t matter if you’re scared, Emily. It’s important for your health. I’m going to be there with you the whole time?” It was wild to think she was getting this much pushback. It felt even tougher than it was to get her in a diaper for the first time. “Please? Can you do it for me?” She gave a pause for an answer, but none came. “Do you know how that makes me feel? How worried I am that you could have something wrong with your teeth and it could’ve been dealt with much sooner?” “That’s not fair…! You can’t guilt trip me like that…!” “I can and I will if it convinces you, because it’s the truth, Emily. Wouldn’t you want peace of mind yourself?” “I haven’t been to your dentist before though…what if they mess up or something?” Granted, Emily’s dentist lived on the other side of the country. What she wasn’t prepared to tell Joyce was that she hadn’t gone once since coming out here from her home state… “They won’t. They’re paid good money not to mess up and they’ve been doing this for years. Try to think about other things, because it’s doing you no good worrying over things that aren’t going to happen. Here, I’ll even put your shoes on for you.” She phrased it like a kind gesture, but the quiet reality was Joyce forcing the notion that this was happening whether Emily liked it or not. “Joyce…please…” “We still have time to get your pacifier if that’s what we need?” Joyce commented as she tugged on the first shoe. “No! That stays here!” Emily had another outburst of worry, yet her legs didn’t kick. “I’m a minute from either making you choose between a diaper or Pip then, Emily. I love you and I’m not mad at you, but I will be stern if that’s what it takes to keep your wellbeing in check.” And if words weren’t enough, she raised off her knee to kiss Emily on the lips. “Not another word about not going, understood?” She sniffled and started sobbing, nodding her head. Damn, why did she have to make Joyce feel so guilty? This was all certainly unexpected to Joyce. Paradoxically, for as much of a little girl she wanted to encourage Emily to be, it was quite surprising to find such a…fitting sort of stereotype embedded in her. Yet as guilty as Joyce felt, she had no qualms playing the villain if it was meant for Emily’s sake. “You know how proud I am of you, right?” “Mhmm…” Tearily, Emily nodded. She was upset, annoyed, and frustrated. She shouldn’t have to go if she didn’t want to. Joyce had no right forcing her to do things she didn’t want to do. So why wasn’t she fighting back? Physically resisting? That…that seemed like it would be going too far, but it also wasn’t fair that Joyce could physically force her! “Hey,” Joyce lifted her chin, “no grumpy faces.” Screw not being able to have any grumpiness. Grumpy was what she’d stay if she got nothing else. If Joyce was getting her way, Emily was at least entitled to malicious compliance. Emily kept her words to herself, and most of her emotions. Like a game, whenever Joyce was watching, it was at best a dejected sort of look, otherwise it was back to frowning and sulking. Needless to say, this was far from how Emily planned their Friday afternoon going. Finally, after walking down the hall, taking the elevator to the underground parking garage, getting in the car, and pulling onto the street, Emily finally said, “I don’t want any babying this weekend.” Was it emotionally charged and the heat of the moment? Certainly, but in a moment of selfish spite, she was letting an absolute buzzkill of an outing affect everything to follow after it. “Alright then.” Joyce, seemingly unfazed, answered back a second later. Her eyes were on the road, both hands on the wheel. Emily tried to not let it show, but obviously that annoyed her a little. It was petty, of course, but she would have hoped that it might sting a little… “We’re lucky that they were able to take you so soon, you know? I called on such short notice, yet they just managed to fit you in.” “I wish they didn’t…” Spoken like a true mope, with a chin on her shoulder no less. “Well I’m glad they did.” The car ride went back to silence, save for the radio, but otherwise just that. The next checkpoint was arriving in the parking lot outside the multipurpose building, housing a hedge fund company, credit union branch, tech repairs, and a dreaded dentist… “Okay, come on, time to get out,” Joyce spoke with basic commands every step of the way, preemptively, nipping in the bud any sort of bratty combativeness that Emily could try. More and more Joyce was sounding less like a girlfriend and more like something else, and unfortunately it just meant that this was one of those days, or situations, given how things had gone this time. Inside the elevator Emily was quiet, but her feet were not. One would twitch, swing, maybe even tap the floor. “Are you nervous?” The answer was obvious, but left unspoken. Joyce knew, but she wanted Emily to make it clear herself. “No…” Emily scowled right back. This sucked. This sucked far too much. She didn’t want to be here, and if it weren’t for her girlfriend holding her hand, she’d have been long gone by now… Her foot stopped fidgeting. The entire floor must have belonged to the tooth care place because the elevator opened right up into a waiting room. Leather seats propped on shiny metal legs lined the sides of the room, and even a grand aquarium from floor to ceiling divided up some of the chairs. Unheard of magazines sat neatly ordered on the glass coffee table and were paired with a decent view of bustling traffic down one of the many long city roads, loomed over by an endless array of skyscrapers. One such woman was sitting by herself, reading one such magazine. She looked like a Joyce-type. Not the kind that tried to guess your diaper size and impose a bedtime, but the kind that did important work and made good money. The whole room was clean and orderly. Emily hated it. It was all the signs to be seen in any sort of medical waiting room. And what was worse? Just in earshot the hum and buzzes of machines and machinations of horror were going off down the hall. What they did was anyone’s guess, but the less rational and easily perturbed ones might suppose they were rusty, oil-powered teeth-pullers and hand-held jackhammers for the mouth. Whatever the equivalent for suicide watch was for a girl about to make a break for it, Joyce was on high-alert. Emily wanted to let go of her hand, but Joyce did not reciprocate. “Hello, we have an appointment for Emily?” Joyce greeted the secretary behind the glass. “Emily? Let’s see…Oh, yep, right here! Emily Sen, correct?” “The one and only,” Joyce chuckled. “Is there anything she needs to fill out?” “Yes, please,” the woman in her swivel chair navigated the tiny base of operations, assembling a paper, pen, and clipboard. “If she plans on staying with us, we’d like to use some of this information to help start a record until we can get what we need from her previous dentist.” “Perfect. Thank you.” Started and ended on Emily’s behalf, Joyce took them over to a pair of seats. “Do you want me to fill this out, or would you rather?” she asked as they sat down. “I want to go home…” Emily halfway sulked in her chair. Joyce was already pushing and popping the pen’s spring-action button against the paper. “And we’ll go home after we finish up here. So am I filling this out, or are you?” The noise was whirring now down the hall. No screams, thankfully, but it could also just mean that the dentist had started by slicing the victim’s vocal cords. Emily kept bouncing her knee, quiet and distressed. Meanwhile, Joyce wasn’t humming any tunes this time as she quietly scribbled what she knew on-hand about Emily. “Any allergies?” That one never came up, come to think. “Pollen.” “Are you seeing an orthodontist for anything right now?” “No…” Joyce usually knew when she left the house, didn’t she? “Any medication right now?” “No…” Emily droned on and on to the questions. As much of a stranger as she was to a place like this, she certainly did remember the plethora of things on these sheets that were ninety-nine percent of the time followed by a resounding ‘no’ that hardly needed any sort of focus. “Favorite animal?” “Cat–” and her mouth slammed shut the moment she responded. An irked glare was what Emily was giving to Joyce who couldn’t help but grin. “Just a little fun, come on…” Joyce muttered through a mumbling laugh. “Yeah, well, you know I don’t want to be here.” Emily slumped further in the seat, grouchily murmuring. “And it’s only something you have to do twice a year that takes half an hour. Tops. Sit up?” Joyce’s hand on Emily’s stomach set her back on the slope of a chair somewhat. “This is only going to be as difficult as you make it…” By the slip of her tongue in a moment of impatience, Emily grouched back, “It wouldn’t be difficult if you just asked me what the stupid paper actually says…” For being a person so in control of their words, it can always be oddly fascinating how by chance, one in a million, that your words can somehow bypass any filter or sense of rational thought you might have. Blindsided by her own words, swept by the heat of the moment. Emily tensed the second her subconscious voice finished speaking for her. Then came the warm breath of air against her ear, but with none of the sweet coos and whispers to go with it. The warnings of consequence were just a handful of decibels from turning into a full-blown scolding that didn’t care whether or not the woman minding her own business just a few chairs down could hear. So as a final mercy, Joyce calmly whispered into Emily’s ear. “I know you don’t want to be here, but that is no excuse for the way you’re talking to me. I’m sorry for making you upset, but you are not going to be a grouch and take it out on me. Do I make myself clear?” There must have been torrential downpour in the waiting room, because Emily’s tiny embers were now just soot washed away by the waves of her girlfriend’s wrath. “...I’m…I’m sorry…” What was far less private was the wet kiss on Emily’s cheek. “I’m sorry too.” Roses and sunshine, Joyce was back with the clipboard. Like her memory from a few seconds prior had vanished. “Okay…when was the last time you went to your other dentist?” And like so, coincidence could be such a cruel mistress. “Uhm…” Lie? Maybe, but truthfully, Emily was too frazzled to know whether or not it was safe to not-truth about that sort of thing. Lying to Joyce? Definitely not safe. But to the dentist? Was it that big of a deal…? “At least six months, right?” Joyce seemed to be giving her the benefit of the doubt, but it was clear she was goading an answer. “Yeah, six…” No eye contact worked wonders at heightening suspicion, come to find out. “Emily? I know it’s been more than six.” Her eyes didn’t leave the paper. “You can tell me; it’s important that they know.” “...ear…” Chin tucked over the other shoulder and seemingly enamored with the white wall to her side. “I didn’t hear that, Emily. Speak up and look at me, please.” Her head came halfway in a rusty, rickety fashion, jittering to the point that their gazes were parallel. “Th…three years…about…” The absentminded twirling of the pen on paper halted immediately, like a calm and relaxing ensemble of smooth jazz music had suddenly just been stopped. Joyce gripped the pen, and Emily knew her answer wasn’t received without silent judgment. But it did stay silent, as Joyce went back to writing without a word on the matter. Was it guilt that she was feeling? Guilt for not going to the dentist? Not quite. Maybe some of that was there, and maybe there was some for not meeting Joyce’s standards, which were quite average in this regard, honestly. But no, it was guilt owed to herself for not keeping this all a secret any better… Joyce didn’t have any more questions as she wrote, no more than asking for a signature, and Emily tried to busy herself with something on her phone. Anything. “Martha?” A woman in scrubs and face mask was standing by the entrance that led deeper into the dungeon. Holding her elbows she scanned the lobby among the three (but really two, and really only one if “willingness” was taken into account) patients. The stranger stood with a bag over her shoulder and off she went. A nostalgic queasy spell was starting up in her stomach as Emily watched from the corner of her eye. Was that woman going to come out the same? Maybe as a toothless abomination, or a battle-scarred victim of a lazy-handed drill-wielding fiend who got off on other’s suffering for fun… Deep breaths. Meditation. Maybe, just maybe, in that quiet waiting room Emily could awaken her otherworldly powers and discover the very secrets to stopping time itself. Would life move on? Hardly not, but a meager price to pay if it meant dodging– “Emily?” Crap. Shit! Shut her eyes tighter! Don’t stop time! Reverse it! Right before she met Joyce, just so she can cover all the tracks from her medical history! And yet the uncultured folk beside her assaulted her deep meditations with a soft poke on the shoulder. “They’re calling you?” Thank you, Joyce. Truly. Emily was blinded by all the brownie points Joyce was burning through like it was some sort of race. Hesitantly, she stood. This must have been what convicts on death row felt like, except so much worse. Emily was guilty of no crime. She took good care of her teeth! What neglect? She was being framed! Miss one or two appearance dates every six months and suddenly she’s a criminal? Call her an attention seeker, because Emily briefly glanced at Joyce beside her, then blinked twice. No Joyce. She turned her head back farther. There Joyce was, still sitting at the chairs, browsing her own phone, like this wasn’t the last time she’d ever see her girlfriend! “Uhm…” the worker garnered Emily’s attention again, “right down here.” Emily stepped forward but just barely hid a noise of discomfort. Why wasn’t Joyce coming? She had a quiet voice telling her to stomp her foot. She was putting Emily through all of this, so she had to be there the entire time! Then Emily had a brief moment of reflection. She’d been stubborn, indignant, combative and bratty the entire way here and even in her chair. She even shut down babying privileges for the whole weekend in a heated moment of anger. Was this punishment? Joyce’s way of biting back? This sucked. This wasn’t fair. Emily may have toed the line, but Joyce was sprinting right past it! She knew Emily didn’t like the dentist, and she knew how much she didn’t want to be here! She has to come! She has to be moral support! But outwardly quiet and wordless, Emily let herself be led along and down the hall. Alone and afraid. “Right in here? Go ahead and sit down in the chair, I’ll be just a second.” the woman quietly excused herself as Emily walked inside. On some level she was reminded of her nursery. A vibrant cartoon sky blue on the walls, puffy happy clouds and a personified smiling sun. Happy go-lucky frogs, talking trees and overjoyed flowers by the prospect of being violated by just as happy bees to boot. Two tall cabinets beyond the dentistry tools of destruction and signature torture chair in the center were prominently housing an audience of onlookers. Stuffed with cotton and lined with fur. An array of stuffed animals looked down at her. “E…excuse me? Is this the right room?” Emily was already leaning her head out the doorway for the returning assistant. Maybe her words held some weight, because the woman glanced at her clipboard and then the black, yellow-font engraved label on the door before answering, “Yes, this is the right room.” “Alright…” Emily awkwardly sat on the edge of the chair, like she was only stopping by for a brief admiration of the decor. “Just seems like a room mainly used for kids…” “Oh!” Like an afterthought had only just clicked, “I see what you mean.” she chuckled behind her facemask. “Our only other room is tied up with another patient at the moment and our other rooms are going under deep cleanings. We try to use the other room for all our adult patients, but this was an appointment on such short notice…” Emily nodded understandingly, even if she didn’t like this any better. Wasn’t this bad for her headspace or something? What if she started associating baby time with dentists? Definitely a bad idea. It’d ruin everything they had. So maybe she could get up and leave with that reasoning. Joyce would understand, right? “Emily? Sorry? Could you please lay down in the chair for me?” the woman kindly asked, already in her swivel chair sitting behind the head of where Emily was commanded to lay. “S-sure…” Emily did say, but did not do. She twiddled her thumbs, taking a moment to breathe. Was her heart supposed to be popping out of her chest? “Is…everything alright?” the dentalcare worker asked. “Yes…” No. No. Definitely not. “Would you…” it was obvious how awkward of a position Emily was putting the woman in, which is why like a knee-jerk reaction she half-collapsed onto the chair. Emily cringed with shivers as the gloved pair of hands gently adjusted her head, tugging her like a motion to slide back a bit more. “Okay, I’m going to raise the chair now, alright?” “Mhm…” The sudden jerk in hydraulic motion had Emily gripping the arms of the chair like her hands were the jaws of life. An involuntary yelp escaped her mouth the moment she started to rise as her feet rocked on their heels, tapping toes together repeatedly. “C-can we slow down? I-I need a second…” Emily begged through the nerves and stress, barely even letting her back rest on the chair just in case she needed to make a quick escape. Then the gloved hand lightly touched her shoulder. “Wait right here for a minute, okay?” Emily couldn’t see, but she heard the woman get up from her chair and briefly leave the room. Like it was an excuse to get out of bed, Emily sat up from the chair, absolutely miserable. She hated this. This is why she didn’t go to the dentist. This is why she took damn good care of her teeth just so she wouldn’t ever need to go! She could only glance behind her before seeing the tray of tools that made her skin crawl. The tubes and nozzles running underneath, or the deceptive tv on the wall playing muted movies from nearly two decades prior. It was fine to leave, right? What if she cried? What if she begged Joyce to leave? She’d understand once she saw her like this, wouldn’t she? A knock on the doorway snapped Emily out of it, even if only temporarily, as the woman came back in. With a friend this time. “J-Joyce?” She wore her same as usual smile, like no bad blood had ever flowed under her bridge. The staff was sitting back down in her chair and Emily nervously took that as a note to lay back down herself. “It’s one thing if it’s me, but you can’t go causing trouble for the people here, you know?” Joyce grinned, pulling up a chair to Emily's vacant side. Speechlessness was all Emily could muster. She was flustered, embarrassed, aggravated, and relieved. Words were poor descriptors of the mess that her face was trying to express. “She wasn’t causing trouble,” the woman chimed in with a small upbeat tone, “I just figured she might want someone with her.” Translation: get this adult her babysitter to make her behave. “And was she right?” Joyce hogged the other end of the conversation, of which Emily saw before the assistant calmly turned Emily’s gaze back up to the ceiling. Cue the blinding light. Emily’s hand found itself hanging off the edge of the chair, and ever so coincidentally, Joyce’s was right there to catch it. “You know, I didn’t even know that there was a room like this here?” Joyce looked around with curiosity and a twinkle in her eye. “I take it this is usually for kids?” And what did that say about Emily? “Typically, but it has all the same equipment our other rooms do. Most of our other rooms are being cleaned right now.” “Uh-huh,” Joyce nodded, and Emily listened, and squinted, just trying to squeeze anything she could out of Joyce’s hand, “I think it’s a lot more fun than the rooms I always get here.” The two women talking over Emily shared a laugh. “I don’t suppose we can make special requests for this?” Emily tried not to throw a fit right then. Joyce knew what she was doing! Why was she bringing up all this stupid sensitive stuff! There was a line! A line! But whether it was caused by oblivious nature or professional attitude, the woman didn’t take the question strangely. “Technically you can. Nothing about making an appointment says you can’t, but it could affect appointment availability.” “Not an issue. We’ll be scheduling six months out from now right before we leave.” Joyce, the dual-edged sword said back. Loving and supporting, but in exchange committing Emily to a life of pain and suffering. A shackle was donned around her neck next, fastened by a heavy iron padlock. “Awh! They make those clip things for the tissue bibs look like little dentures?” Joyce remarked with pleasant amusement. “Anything to keep someone distracted– but they are fun. I kinda like them myself.” The woman chuckled right back, then patted Emily’s trembling shoulder. “Emily?” she was looking down on Emily, who was looking up at her maker, “doing alright? I’m going to need you to open your mouth for me, please.” Pardon the few teeth chatters on opening up, but eventually a view into Emily’s mouth did appear. “A little wider, please?” “Sorry, she can be a bit of a worrywart… She’s not a fan of the dentist.” “I promise I’ll be extra gentle.” Her assurance sounded like that for a parent and their child. “Emily? Wide enough to say ‘ahh’ nice and clearly, okay?” What was this? Torture? Was Joyce being here even helping? If there was supposed to be encouragement or moral support, it didn’t feel like she was getting what she needed. “A-ahh…” “A…a bit more, please?” “A-Ahhh!” “Wider, Emily, not louder.” Joyce added, rising just a little bit higher on Emily’s shit list. Stretching her jaw some more and opening wide against her better judgment, Emily sounded, “A-AAHHH” “I’m not that scary, am I?” The woman suddenly shifted gears with a grin, gently aligning Emily’s head once more. Unfortunately Emily’s face had nowhere to go, not after feeling like a fool for playing into the dentist’s little fun… “Now Emily,” she held two metal tools in her hands, “I’m just going to take a look inside, alright? This is just a normal cleaning, so if I find any plaque in there I’m gonna take it out, okay?” “U-uh-huh…” She wasn’t crying, right? Definitely not. She was teary, but that was because of the light. It was a strong light. Super strong. And so foreign bodies started to peer inside of her mouth. Sometimes the mirror tool would touch her tongue and nearly scare it down her own throat. The worst had yet to come though. The other tool was a hook. It had to be, because Emily cringed and whimpered against her will with each scrape or tug of something that made her whole head move just a tiny bit. All in all, kudos to Joyce for managing to keep a conversation while also having the life squeezed out of her hand. “So far so good…” the preoccupied woman remarked. “Do you brush and floss normally?” Emily through only her eyes delivered a bewildered expression. Did the dentist somehow expect her to speak? Was it a trap? If she moved her mouth, the woman might slip and cut the inside of her mouth with that horrible hook, then it’d be grounds to charge even more of a bill. With frozen lips and a gaping mouth, Emily murmured back, “U-Uh-huh…” By her side, Emily’s better half answered for her. “She does, but she isn’t very frequent with dentist visits, come to find out.” Need it be said that Joyce sounded less than pleased. Emily did her best to frown from the position she was in. “Well…dentist visits are important, even if your teeth are looking like they’re in tip-top shape…” At least Emily had that going for her. It was enough for a silent sigh of relief, the kind that didn’t make a tool inside her mouth spasm and hit something unintended. “Yes, they most certainly are.” Joyce continued to dogpile, suddenly turning the mood into an intervention for a woman laying in a chair against her will. And finally, after a millenia of torture and uncertainty in the seat, the prodding tools came back out, no fresh wounds left behind, and the woman did seem gentle, which was nice… “Alrighty, Emily,” the woman slipped out of view before coming right back in. “It looks like you’ve been doing a good job in there. Next up is fluoride. Mint or bubblegum?” “Can’t…can’t I just have the normal stuff?” The last time she was asked about her preferred flavor of fluoride her age was in single digits. “I can get some from the other room, but it may take a minute. My coworker is seeing another patient there right now. Do you mind waiting?” And having to stay here any longer? Damn it. It all felt orchestrated. Premeditated. And Joyce, sitting behind her, could only shrug with a smile while her body language said, “Well, what can you do?” What Emily could do was a mystery to herself that only grew more and more with her slipping responsibilities, but she did know what she couldn’t do, and that was being here for more than a single second in excess. “Bubblegum…” Maybe it was validation, or maybe it was instinctual, but for whatever reason Emily herself stole a look at Joyce, who held a quiet but observant smile. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here? Whenever I come it’s always Hal that does my cleaning?” Joyce continued the idle chat, or so it seemed. Hearing Joyce converse with strangers always made Emily feel anxious just from trying to figure what her angle was. Joyce didn’t do things just because. She was calculating, conniving, evil! But…mostly the first thing. “I just started here a few months ago, actually,” the smile she had was evident even from behind the mask, “my name is Kelly.” With her free hand she pointed a gloved finger underneath her nametag. “Nice to meet you Kelly, and thank you for grabbing me; I just about had to drag my girlfriend here…” “Hghh-eeeey…” Emily muttered in a half-gargle over at Joyce with a tone that implied dwindling patience. And without a word Emily could feel Joyce’s hand in hers go limp, as if trying to disconnect, which only made Emily squeeze harder with a flash of regret. One of the two brought Joyce back online. Kelly chuckled awkwardly as she coated Emily’s teeth. “W-well…believe me, I’ve had plenty of people before that can be a bit squeamish around dentist stuff. I completely understand… If the parents don’t come in already, I usually check befor– Well, I mean– couples too, of course,” she quickly backpedaled her tongue apologetically, having voiced a thought that wasn’t much of a secret anymore. Emily sighed once more. Not from the stress, fear, or any pain, but from the undeniable fact of what this all looked like to Kelly. What Emily looked like right then. “We all have our weaknesses,” Joyce promptly countered though, sort of unexpectedly? She then made an audible shiver. “Jeez, thankfully it hasn’t happened yet, but I know I’ll be the one crying if I find a spider in our house… Emily’s definitely my knight in shining armor for that.” “No?” She chuckled back. “Not a fan of insects?” “I can handle stuff on the screen, but not those things in real life…” Joyce spoke like she was reliving past trauma before her eyes. Emily could only wonder about the insect comment. Was it true, or was Just just trying to put her back on equal footing in the court of public opinion? Lie or truth…it did make her feel better. A lot less like the humiliation from going to the diner with her parents… “Okay, Emily, I’m gonna wash some of the taste out now, alright?” “U-uh-huh.” This time a much more acceptable tool went into her mouth. Just a plastic rod that sprayed cold, refreshing water in her mouth. “Close…” The woman in her motions instructed. “Swallow…” Emily did so as the water nozzle in her mouth made a weird noise in response. One, two more times they repeated the process. “Any taste left?” She asked her as she took the paper bib around Emily’s neck to wipe the corner of her mouth. “No,” Emily shook her head, tasting a bubble gum residue that’d been mostly washed away. “Perfect. Alright, I’m just going to do one last routine check on your teeth with my hands and then you’ll be all set. Then the dentist is going to come in and just give you a quick look. Sound good?” Another obedient nod from Emily. Hands, she could work with those. No metal hooks or prods, just normal handsy-ness. “Proud of you, you know?” Joyce said for the umpteenth time, but now able to look at Emily when she said it, courtesy of a red light in city bumper to bumper traffic. Emily, the unmovable, rested her chin on her hand as she quietly scowled out the window beside her, opposite Joyce's look. “Mhm.” “Don’t ‘mhm’ me. Are you still upset?” “Yes.” “About what?” “About going to the dentist.” “I’m sorry that you don’t like going, but I’m not going to apologize for that, Emily. It’s something you’re supposed to do and you know it.” “And that doesn’t mean I have to like it!” “No, it doesn’t,” Joyce openly agreed, “but I’ll make sure that it’s Kelly that you see from now on for your next appointment.” Next appointment. It was enough to make Emily physically cringe. Another appointment. Another session of suffering. Like that, the next six months of her life had been ruined just from being cursed with the knowledge of what was to come. By this point Emily wasn’t sure if she was bold enough to declare that Joyce couldn’t “make” her go, especially when use of force had been threatened against her once already. “And don’t worry, I’ll be making sure on Monday that Sheila has my schedule clear for your next appointment.” The duality of being a girlfriend and a mommy. Somehow both the support system Emily needed as well as the collar and chain that kept her in line. “Why did you even tell me when the next one is?” Emily moaned, just short of a legitimate groan. “Stop it, you’re being silly,” Joyce admonished. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Act like a kid?” It wasn’t often that Emily could be irked, but the wrong buttons were being pushed right then and she was starting to become quite unapologetic about how they’d show. “No, because you’re my grown-up girlfriend right now that explicitly told me that I would not be getting even the chance to baby this entire weekend,” finally, Joyce herself huffed back. Likewise for her, she could signal if she was upset in her own ways. “Maybe if we didn’t go to the dentist…” “Really?” Joyce scoffed, “you’re holding that over my head? Emily! You need to go to the dentist!” “I was fine though! I had no cavities! I brush my teeth! I floss!” “And that doesn’t change anything!” “Yes it does! You made me go when I didn’t want to, then you stayed in the lobby the entire time after they called me in! You made me go in by myself, then only came in once someone finally called you! You said you were gonna be with me the entire time! A-and you made fun of me while you were talking with that assistant…!” “I…” Joyce pursed her lips with her grip tightening on the wheel. “Emily…please don’t cry…” Emily rubbed her wet eyes, spitefully sobbing back, “Why…? Do I need to be a baby to do that too?” “I was upset, Emily…and I still kind of am. I’m sorry for making you feel like that…” “Why are you upset?” Emily didn’t consider herself selfish and on better days made a point of being quite the opposite, but this was one of those days where she felt entitled to every bit of misery there was to be offered. “Because it felt like you were shutting me off out of spite. I can handle you wanting a break from being my baby girl, Emily, but I don’t appreciate it being used against me because you’re upset.” Emily fell silent. It was one of the few things she had said to Joyce as they were leaving for the dentist. A knee-jerk, offhand remark. Aimed and targeted, specifically out of spite. Lashing out because Joyce became the object of her frustration. It was crude. A low blow. She knew how much being a caregiver meant to Joyce, and it was blatant exploitation of that just to try and get her way, or at least make Joyce hurt in some way similar. Compared to being forced into the dentist though, all Emily’s worries were superficial. She was strangling her partner just because of a minor inconvenience. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking. You’re right. I said it because I was angry…!” Retrospect was a terrible thing, with a truckload of unnoticed mistakes and mishaps sneaking up from behind and dropping a whole new load of emotional baggage. Emily tried her best to keep her throat open and clear, though it wavered with the ongoing threat of more tears. “Th-that wasn’t right of me. I know how much it means to you…it means so much to me, too… I…I just didn’t like being forced to go, Joyce.” “I…first, thank you for apologizing,” between bumper-to-bumper traffic, Joyce was able to give her an eye-to-eye smile, “and I understand that you didn’t want to go, Emily. I guess it’s just my first time with this sort of…friction. I should have known better that it was just the aggravation talking.” “But you have feelings too…” Emily sulked, hitting the depression swing of her phases. “All I was thinking of was myself.” “Stop it. It’s all okay now. We talked about it and that’s it. I promise you didn’t hurt my feelings, okay?” “Mhm…” And unfortunately, or somewhat fortunately, a consequence of Emily’s selflessness came the immeasurable guilt she could feel if a tangible debt (that never existed) went unpaid. “...Do you wanna make it up to me?” And in Joyce’s mind, let it not be labeled as exploitation, but simply an opportunity ripe for the taking. “How?” Emily asked right back, with a tone that may have even implied a willingness to commit murder, so resolute. “When we get home, we’ll go straight up to your nursery, get you in a diaper, put you down for a nap in your crib, and I’ll have a nice dinner ready for us by the time you wake up. How does that sound?” Probably okay, as far as Joyce could guess herself, all but one thing, though this time she had the leverage to be making such unpopular demands. Emily, kneaded her fingers in her lap for a moment. “I…okay, but no nap? Please? I take back what I said! We can do babying all weekend! Just no naps, Joyce!” “It’s not a punishment, Emily,” Joyce laughed, “naps are good for you, and I know that you need one.” “No I don’t!” She groaned right back, a little too frazzled to watch the tone of her own voice. “And that is what a cranky little girl sounds like. You’ve been cranky all day, missy. I’m sorry for not putting you down for one any sooner. I think we could have avoided this whole argument otherwise.” “Now you’re teasing me.” Emily frowned. “Farthest thing from it. So I take it we have a deal?” with the raise of a brow and an expectant smile, it was game, set, match. “For someone who can be so against them, you sure do take naps like a champ?” “I sleep, Joyce. What else is there to it?” Emily frowned, holding out her arms, awaiting the ascent from her prison cell. “Well,” Joyce reached in and whooshed Emily out of the adult-sized crib, “I haven’t ever had to check in on you to remind you to go to sleep?” That was an option? Emily was quiet for a moment, feeling a retrospective wave of stupidity hitting her right then. “And don’t think that means you can stay up now,” Joyce interrupted her thought, scaring the stupidity away entirely. “Wasn’t planning to.” She definitely was. And still maybe was… “What’s for dinner?” Emily asked with her head over Joyce’s shoulder, still blushing as she felt the finger slip its way down the back of her exposed diaper. “Sandwiches, cheese, and crackers,” Joyce recited on the walk to the kitchen. Emily hardly ever complained about dinner, and if at all, it was when she was the one cooking, which thankfully had become a thing of the past. With that in mind, Emily wasn’t complaining, however things certainly felt amiss. Sandwiches and a cheese platter was fit for a lunch, maybe, or a small passive meal to munch on during a gettogether. In other words, it felt oddly uncharacteristic. “Really? I coulda cooked if you weren’t feeling it? Maybe you needed a nap…!” “And it sounds like I got you up too early,” Joyce taunted right back. “And when you’re diapered you require absolute supervision around the kitchen at all times, got that?” “Diapers don’t make my motor skills go away, you know…” “So when you’re out of diapers then, too?” Time to retreat. Refocus the subject. “Why’d you not cook?” “I was going to, but then I remembered my special girl still has bubblegum in her mouth.” Code for, ‘you went to the dentist and still have fluoride in your mouth that needs to go away on its own.’ “Oh.” “Yes, ‘oh’. Nothing hot or crunchy for the rest of the night. No need to brush, either,” Joyce reminded. “Had I known this was going to happen though, I would’ve planned at least one dinner that wasn’t going to be hot…” “You know those rules aren’t that big of a deal, right? People still eat what they want all the time…” “And unlike those people, we’re going to do what the dentist told us so that I can keep my pretty girl with pearly whites.” “Ya-huh…” Emily sulked right before perking back up to a new question. “Do I get to sit in a normal chair, at least?” “Why wouldn’t you?” Joyce frowned with confusion. “I mean, I dunno…you’re making me wear a–” “And…in we go,” Joyce softly concluded, smiling cheerily as Emily, as flabbergasted and speechless as ever, was deposited into her high chair. What’s more, the plastic tray was clicked in place before Emily could find the words, though her face was doing enough talking on its own. “What?” Joyce tried not to chuckle, “did you need a longer nap?” “I said normal seat,” Emily frowned. “This is normal, Emily.” Emily swung her legs, feeling the firm, plastic and comfily padded grip of the seat all around her. “...Please? Can I please sit at the table…Mommy?” It certainly never got old to hear and was always just as endearing. “Once I think you can handle it, baby,” Joyce decided then and there, kissing Emily on the cheek. “Head back, please?” Joyce, now behind the chair with an elastic band, was sporting a ponytail next on the girl. “I don’t need a bib…” Emily groaned as the protective neck napkin was done up as well. “And get the kitchen covered in crumbs? You’re being one very combative little girl tonight, you know that?” “Can’t help it. I had tah go to the tooth doctor today,” Emily enunciated in a carefree voice, patting the plastic table and kicking with each syllable. Joyce then put on a look of pure, unadulterated surprise. “Really now? Well? What did the tooth doctor say about your teeth?” She kept the little game of kid conversation going as she poured juice into an adult-sized sippy cup. Then with two fingers, Emily hooked the corners of her mouth to flash her full set of front teeth. “Alllll gooood!” She couldn’t help but giggle the moment Joyce’s facade cracked just enough to give her an almost weird look, yet the endearment never left. “Very, very good!” Joyce cooed as she set Emily’s plate of food and juice in front of her, then took her own seat at the table. “Mmfhmm!” Emily mumbled through her mouthful of sandwich, crumbs and all. “And–” Emily stopped herself just to take a swig of juice, “Mommy said I’d get a present for being soo good!” “Really?” Really? Joyce raised her brow. “And what did Mommy promise her little munchkin?” Without dropping a beat, Emily fired right back, “Ice cream!” All Joyce gave was side mouth to that. “Mmm…I don’t think Mommy would give ice cream right after the dentist. Maybe tomorrow.” Buzz killed. Instantly. Enough to make Emily bear down and give into the pressure she’d been feeling in her bladder. Icky, warm, but not absolutely repulsive anymore. “So how about instead, tonight, after we finish dinner we get you in the bath, then some comfy PJs and snuggle for the rest of the night?” Damn. She really was good at negotiating. “Can I ask-a question?” “You just did?” Joyce set down her own sandwich to come forward and wipe her wet thumb across the corner of a crumby adult baby’s mouth. “Can I ask two more questions?” Joyce giggled at that, “You get one more before I want another bite of that sandwich in you, missy.” “Can I bring one of those puzzle thingies in the bath with me?” “One of your toys?” How Joyce loved to steer the narrative. “Those aren’t tub toys, silly…” then she quietly bit her lip, muttering, “and we still need to get you some…” “I don’t need bath toys! I just wanted to tinker with one of those puzzle things, I dunno.” “I’ll see what I can find during the week,” Joyce smiled gingerly, making it quite clear that a mother’s mind has been made. “You can play with one after your bath. And don’t forget your juice, sweetheart.” “Blah-blah-blah,” Emily bounced her head with each ‘blah.’ “Don’t forget your juice!” She mimicked right back, and Joyce didn’t seem amused. “Do wet diapers make you cranky too, sillypants, is that it?” It wasn’t so much as a direct admission was it a passive drop of the hat by referencing what Emily thought was a secret to herself for at least the remainder of the meal. Unfortunately for her, she was still catching on to the fact that at least for Joyce she had a ‘potty face’, as the mother in charge liked to think of it. She was blushing and quiet. Too quiet for too long to be able to deny it at this point. “...No I didn’t…” But what’s to stop an embarrassed girl from trying? Didja like it? Didja not? Let me know! But on the same (and different) note, on my Patreon you can read the next 2 chapters of Sheltered early! Like Illegal Immigrant? As of tomorrow, go read 2 yet to be released chapters of Illegal Immigrant! Check out 2 commissioned stories (with lots more to come!) Help develop an ABDL dungeon crawler! So much fun and more! Wow~! *Firework Noises*

"At the sound of the tone, it will be Eight in the morning on Tuesday the Ninth, Twenty Thirty Three." "Thanks, Google." Takara Akiyama sighed, crossing her legs as she sat in the driver's seat of her car. Despite being behind the wheel, she wasn't the one in control. No, her self driving Lexus drove in a pack of other autonomous vehicles, all traveling the same rate of speed as they quietly traversed the streets of Tokyo. Even though each light she went though was green, all synchronized to facilitate a better flow of traffic, the forty one year old Prosecutor wasn't exactly pleased as the minutes ticked by. Her bladder was uncomfortably close to bursting and she didn't even realize it until she was halfway to her daughter's daycare. Merely sitting in her leather seat was agitating things, putting undue pressure on her abdomen, which she realized was bulging a little. As she sat there, tired from waking up early due to her daughter's cries and shifting uncomfortably in her seat because she had forgotten to use the toilet before showering, she simply wished that she had more time. Being a mother was bittersweet for Takara since she truly loved her daughter, but despised all the added demands and stress that a working mother had to deal with. Sure, her husband was a great father and did his best, always letting her relax when she got home with a home cooked meal waiting for her and Emi. However, he had to leave earlier than her in the mornings, leaving her to take care of Emi and get her to daycare while she drove to work. How she longed for how things used to be when she was a teenager with her future husband. Back then, if you were running late, you could take advantage of hitting all the lights green by speeding up and passing all the others in their dust, but no, she just had to sit there and enjoy her commute patiently like everyone else. At the very least, she wasn't trapped on the subway like some of her girlfriends. This was the trade off in a world where practically everything was digitally dictated and all the machines did the work; flawless efficiency was mandated. The freedom to merely hit the gas pedal, or in this case the accelerator, was gone. The car drove uniformly with all the others, obeying the speed limit. Ultimately, there was no real excuse for being late. Only a human error was to blame if you were running late and Takara knew that it was her fault. Even though she was still trying to meet the hectic demands brought on by raising a baby, she knew her bosses weren't going to be pleased with her when she arrived late to work again for the third time that month. She sat there squirming in place, hands on the sides of her tiny tummy. “Momma!" A cute voice called from the carseat in the back of her car. "Yes, Emi?" The brownish haired woman looked back at her bundle of joy. "I go poopeh!" Announced the sixteen month old as she slapped a rattle against her soiled diaper. "Of course you did." The middle aged mother sighed once more as a bizarre pang of jealousy hit the professional woman. For a brief moment, she was actually envious of her baby for being able to just use the bathroom wherever she wanted. Takara shook that thought away and was glad for the distraction her daughter gave her. She had been bouncing her leg while occasionally tapping her foot. Basically, doing anything other than thinking about the growing feeling of urgency inside of her midsection. Takara smiled at her daughter and considered giving her daughter a diaper change to not only pass the time, but to clean up her little one. She could easily change her daughter's diaper, the fact that she didn’t have to drive afforded her the ability to just spin her chair around and tend to her daughter. But the prosecutor ultimately decided on letting the daycare change her baby girl. After all, she didn't want to take the risk of getting talcum powder on her immaculate black business dress suit. However, Takara couldn't help but fear that talcum powder was going to be the least of her worries as her wriggling and shuddering only grew more frequent. 'What if I pee myself before we get to the daycare?!' She was perched right on the edge of her seat, scared she might cough or sneeze and completely lose control, spraying her piss wildly all over the luxury sedan's driver's seat. A lone cry from the back of the car pulled her away from her growing anxiety. "Don't worry, sweetie." Takara spoke softly, but urgently. A sudden sense of relief washed over the worried woman when she noticed her GPS. "We're just about to arrive at Daycare!" Takara felt like the weight was being lifted right off of her shoulders. She could use the restroom at the daycare after dropping her daughter off for the day. 'Oh, thank goodness!' The sea of of monochromatic vehicles parted, their internal systems communicating to one and another that Mrs. Akiyama's silver Lexus demanded priority to change lanes and park. As the self driving car pulled up to the curb, parking in between two other vehicles, the parking meter scanned her license plate, digitally subtracting the parking fee for ten minutes as she had programmed her account to do. "Upsie daisy!" Mrs. Akiyama cooed as she scooped up her daughter and placed her on her hip. The middle aged mother carried her daughter into a brightly painted, pastel colored storefront, the doors opening automatically while a neon sign brightly announced to the average passerby that this business was the "Sunshine Semi-Automated Daycare" facility. Where as most of Japanese society had blazed forward, staring fearlessly into an increasingly autonomous future, the daycare industry lagged behind, and rightly so. Unlike all other facets of modern life, society was still fearful about letting cold, calculating machines handle and care for the next generation of life. However, cracks were starting to appear in this cultural reluctance thanks to mothers like Takara Akiyama, who were willing to place their children into such high tech facilities. While the middle aged mom could brag to her friends that she was a hip and trendy mother, she ultimately chose this daycare because it was fairly cheap, even for an expensive nation such as Japan. But even she wasn't so petty as to put her baby's life in danger just to save a few thousand yen. The prosecutor demanded a demonstration after meeting with the owner of the facility. Her numerous concerns were put to rest when she watched the automated system change and clean another baby. The icing on the preverbaily cake was when she saw that the babysitting portion was still done by teenage girls. With this knowledge, Takara felt no guilt in placing her baby girl into such a daycare. "Hello?" Takara called out to an empty lobby. She glanced around the sleek yet comfortable waiting area and noticed that the public bathroom door was still locked, an obvious padlock still sealing the room shut, keeping her from the porcelain throne she sought desperately to mount. The professional with a baby in her arms walked up to an oval brown wooden desk that had a few small plants situated atop of it. The workstation below was vacant, only an empty chair sat in front of a flat screen computer monitor greeted her. It seemed that the usual receptionist was most likely in the back. This was fairly normal since she was almost always the first one to drop off her daughter, Emi. However, she normally wasn't about to piss her pants while dropping off her baby. "Hey!" Takara yelled, banging on thelittle bell that sat by the plants. "I need someone to unlock the bathroom!" She squeezed her knees together as she stood in front of the desk, waiting for someone, anyone to help her. She didn't know if she could make it that much longer while she struggled not to clutch her pelvis with her free hand. Takara was already rocking back and forth a little when she felt a little pee escape into her pristine black panties. "Ohhpp!" She uttered out loud, blushing tremendously. Growing extremely desperate, the middle aged mother waddled over to the baby drop off slat in the wall. The cold, stainless steel panel on the wall could be opened by a handlebar and in went your child. However, Takara wasn't going to use the slot for its intended purpose. She sat her daughter onto the tiled floor, not wanting to frighten her baby by the ensuing shouting she was about to perform. With baby Emi happily sat on her mushy tushy, Takara pulled back the door of the delivery shoot. "Somebody better get out here and open this door right now!" Takara yelled at the top of her lungs into the dark, metal corridor. A pair of newly graduated college girls were busy cleaning up the daycare since they had forgotten to turn on the cleaning bot yesterday evening. Upon hearing Takara's long shouting, they paused their cleaning and looked towards the front of the daycare. "Did you hear that?" A fresh faced girl with a neon pink streak through her hair asked her coworker. "Yeah, someone sounds pissed off." Her coworker replied. "You think the machine is acting up or something?" The woman with the trendy hair stated with worry in her voice. "Yuki, you worry way too much. Obviously, you forgot to turn on the machine and some mom is upset. I'll just turn it on and everything will sort itself out." "Yeah, you're right, Aoi. I forgot to turn on the machine." Yuki blushed. "Yep, that's why I'm the assistant manager. I have critical thinking skills." Aoi smiled and walked over to the wall, pressing a button which turned on the machine. "See, problem solv-" A loud, shocked scream came echoing down the daycare, interrupting Aoi's boasting. Unbeknownst to the two college girls, Takara shouting wasn't about the machine being off. Thanks to the two lazy girls, the professional had thoroughly pissed her sleek business skirt, her nylons and panties too were absolutely soaked. The pissed off prosecutor leaned her body into the delivery slot, ensuring that everyone inside this damned daycare would hear her rage. However, the fully operational machine sensed weight on the delivery slot Takara was leaning on and was quick to spring into action. In her angered state, Takara had forgotten about the automated diapering and dressing system that the daycare utilized. Before she knew what was happening a set of gloved hands had grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her from the lobby and into the machine! "What are you doing?!" The middle aged mother shrieked in surprise. Takara wiggled and jiggled her body, kicking her feet wildly as she was all but dragged onto the rubber surface of the conveyor belt. *Wet Fussy Baby Detected!* A computerized voice declared which only made the soaking wet prosecutor all the more enraged. "I'm not a baby, you oversized washing machine!" Takara screamed. *Initiating Scan* "Good." The prosecutor sighed as a red laser went up and down her body. "Happy? Told you that I wasn't a-" *Baby's Physical Profile Not In Database* "Of course I'm not in your database as a baby you stupid tin can! I'm the mother!" *Creating New Profile. Mother, Please Speak The Name Of Your Baby* "I told you that I'm not a baby! I'm Takara Akiyama, mother of-" *Baby Takara Akiyama, Older Sister Of Emi Akiyama* "No! No! Noooo!" Takara whined. "I'm not the older sister of my daughter!" *Takara Akiyama Young Sister To Emi Akiyama Confirmed?* "You've got to be kidding me!" Takara barked at the machine's question. "Emi is sixteen months old! I'm forty one for crying out loud!" *41 Months Old Is Takara Akiyama's Age, Correct?* This line of questioning was really starting to get on Takara's nerves. She was sitting in her own piss soaked clothing, restrained by robotic hands while a computer as smart as her cell phone was picking and choosing which words to listen to. "Takara Akiyama is not forty one months old!" The middle aged mother decided to talk about herself in the third person since this thing was obviously listening to her as if she was her own mother. *Confirmed! Takara Akiyama Is Forty One Weeks Old!* "Look!" Takara sighed. "Takara Akiyama is forty one YEARS old. Understood?" *Error! Only Children Five Years And Younger Can Be Received!* "Finally!" Takara felt like she was starting to get somewhere with this contraption. *Takara Akiyama Is Not Older Sister To Emi Akiyama. Takara Akiyama Is Not Forty One Months old.* Takara was starting to relax as the computer was in the process of vocalizing its thought process. That was until she heard the computer come up with its final assessment. *Takara Akiyama Is Forty One Weeks Old Or Ten Months Old If Prefered For Her File* "I am going to sue you if you don't get me out of here right this second!" The middle aged prosecutor threatened, trying to sound as menacing as possible for a grown woman who was covered in her own piss. *Get Baby Takara Akiyama Out of Her Wet Clothes!* Suddenly a new set of mechanical arms swiftly came out from the sides of the belt and started taking off her black blazer. As Takara thrashed about, the hand went to work unbuttoning her brilliant black blouse, exposing her racy, silk bra. The middle aged mother couldn't believe that the machine was undressing her, and for anyone to see! She crossed her legs, trying to stop the hands from yanking down her sodden skirt and panties. Her curling toes could only do so much as her professional heels were removed, leaving her in just nylon as her skirt was quickly yanked down her bouncing legs! In no time flat, the flustered professional was stripped down to nothing. Takara knew that this wasn't what was supposed to be happening! She was an adult! Not some baby that this machine could strip and- *Initiating Bath Protocol!* "No!" Takara cried out. "I don't need a bath!" The arms lifted her off of the belt and gently sat her into a small wash basin full of soapy water. Takara could only imagine how pathetic she looked; a forty one year old woman, naked and in a tiny bathing tub meant for a one year old. The water was only six inches deep and barely even covered her ass. "Okay. I'm clean now! Takara sarcastically announced as she stood up from the tiny tub. "I'm leaving. Can you let me out of here?!" However, the machine had other ideas. She was roughly grabbed by her shoulders and forced into a fetal position. The horrified woman screamed as she was assaulted by an onslaught on personal hygiene products in half a foot of water. Hands came at the poor Asian woman from all sides, most holding rough-bristled brushes that mercilessly scrubbed every part of her body. While the brushes worked on her back and thighs, a particularly aggressive loofah paid particular attention to cleaning her piss covered vagina. Despite how horrible the situation was, Takara couldn't help moaning loudly as the loofah rubbed against her sensitive mound, occasionally breaching her tight lower lips as it was repeatedly ran across her pussy. Luckily for Takara, the loofah and it's brethren brushes retreated into the sides of the conveyor belt. The middle aged professional was baffled by how forceful the machinery treated her as she gazed at her sore, red skin. The bristles had literally left their mark on her poor porcelain skin. However, Takara didn't have long to lament on her banged up knees and scratched up skin as yet again, she was yanked up from the basin and laid back onto the belt. Within seconds several metallic arms popped out from the sides of the conveyor belt and started roughly drying her naked wet body with towels. *Baby Is Clean. Initiating Health Check Up!* The arms forced Takara to lay on her back and propped her legs up, exposing her shapely ass. The prosecutor could only frown by this development, not entirely sure what to expect. She vaguely recalled the machine weighing her daughter Emi when she watched the enrollment process be finalized. She also remembered that they took her baby's temperature by giving her a rectal- "No!" Takara cried out. "You're not going to shove that thing up my- Uugghh!" Without warning the thick invasive thermometer was firmly pushed into the middle aged mother’s back passage causing the woman to cry out as she was penetrated. The machine worked the thermometer until it was firmly in place, deep in her asshole. Takara would've never imagined that her day would turn into this! Here she was, with her ass in the air, on a conveyor belt, as a phallic like medical device was proudly sticking out of her ass like a flag pole! Finally, the gloved hand plucked the thermometer from her tight ass and held it up, pretending to read it. Takara had no way of knowing this, but the computer had already remotely read the results and cataloged them into its database thanks to a tiny chip which was built directly into each thermometer. The hand holding the thermometer up was merely for show. *Temperature Is Normal* "I swear that you're going to need a doctor when I'm done with this place!" *Engage Weighing!* Before she could hurl more threats at the machine, she felt her body leave the belt as it was dropped onto an ice cold Steel plate. The prosecutor involuntary shivered as the plate steadily began to sink slightly from the added weight. Takara instinctively wrapped her arms around her average breasts, shielding her naked form, trying to save even an ounce of her dignity as she sat butt naked on the cold metallic slab. A loud ding announced to her, and the machine, that the weighing was complete. Unbeknownst to Takara, an indicator on the side of the baby scale turned on, displaying her weight for anyone to see. *One hundred and twenty nine pounds, two ounces* *That's A Big Baby!* Takara didn't know whether to be insulted or hope that the machine had finally realized that she was too heavy to be a baby. After all, one hundred and twenty nine pounds was a perfect weight for a woman who was five foot six inches tall. *Baby Must Be Constipated! Initializing Enema Cleansing!* Takara felt her whole body shudder. She knew that there was only one thing that could possibly mean! The gloved hands hoisted her up by each one of her limbs and laid her back onto the belt. Takara looked up and immediately spotted her awaiting enema solution; A massive enema bag appeared, a fat tube ending in a buttplug dangled from the bag. Takara turned around and immediately tried to crawl away from the hand holding the end of the tube, but she didn't get far! The hands grabbed her and carried her over to where the enema was waiting. However, in the machine's haste to help heal the "baby's" upset stomach, it had dragged Takara back upside down! The middle aged woman watched in horror as the tip of the buttplug was forced into her mouth. She tried to push it out with her tongue, but for some reason the enema solution was numbing her tongue! Takara had no way of knowing this, but all enemas that were administered to babies at the daycare were made from a specific blend that ensured their insides would not feel any pressure or pain. Takara could only moan and whine as she swallowed the solution. The numbing agent that was slowly being forced into her mouth flowed down her throat,causing her vocal cords to become numb. In literally minutes they were rendered numb, leaving the middle aged mother unable to communicate! Despite being pumped into her via the wrong hole, the poor woman was still getting filled up. Her stomach slowly expanding outwards as she tried to shout her protests from around the plug that was firmly lodged in her mouth. After several minutes of struggling, Takara resigned herself to her fate and leamed her head downwards, what greeted her eyes caused her to groan in surprise. Her tortured tummy, once skinny and slender now took on the shape of a nine month pregnant woman! Even though it was designed to be a gentle enema, it was also specially created to cleanse a constipated baby. As Takara gawked at her taut and round belly, the mixture was fast at work, quickly cleaning her stomach while the Asian woman whined and groaned behind her impromptu gag, tears streaming down her cheeks as wave after wave of terrible cramps rocked her bulging belly. *Enema Fully Administered. Engage Diapering!* "Mmmpphhh!" With a yank of the hose, the middle aged mother had regained her mouth. She wasted no time resuming her verbal attack on the machine as she tried to rebel against her bonds. However, the hands easily manipulated her body, laying Takara down on top of an awaiting diaper. The prosecutor felt like her ass was sitting on a pillow, but she knew from what the computer said that it was an enlarged diaper. infantile garment was grabbed by the robotic hands and was pulled over her pussy. 'There's no way this will fit me!' Much to her surprise, the hands quit diapering her and lowered the diaper. "Finaawwy!" Takara yelled out before she clamped her mouth shut. She couldn't believe what bizarre sound had escaped her mouth. It sounded like baby babble! A loud crackle alerted Takara that something wasn't right. A forceful hiss was heard before a cold sensation enveloped her diaper area. The middle aged mother looked up in time to see that the hand was spraying her crotch with shaving cream as the canister it held blasted her crotch with a creamy foam. "Nooeee!" Takara whined as she was forced to watch the gloved hand run a four blade razor through her foam coated crotch. Pass after pass removed every hair that had once existed between her legs, leaving her smooth as a baby's bottom. A wet wipe was ran between her thighs, removing the excess foam and giving big baby Takara her first glance at her freshly shaven womanhood. "Ugghh! Dis no whike id!!!" It took only seconds but her overgrown forest of a bush was gone, replaced with pale skin. The hair that had been covering her pussy, her badge of womanhood, had been removed! Her crotch had been shaved bald! Takara was so upset with her shaving that she barely even noticed when the robotic hands taped her into her new adult sized pamper. Once she felt the bulk of her plastic underwear she cries renewed with vigor. And yet the machine ignored the tantrum throwing forty one year old baby as it pulled a yellow diaper cover over her pamper while it simultaneously dressed her in a pink and white shirt. The middle aged adult baby was so distraught by her new wardrobe that she failed to notice that the conveyor belt was nearing its end. Her wriggling and kicking only increased as did her babyish wails when she was dropped down into a slide which deposited her out into the daycare proper. She landed right in front of the two young women. Each girl looked at each other in disbelief, unsure of what to make of the adult baby who was twice their age. Takara stared at the two college aged daycare attendants, trying to clamp her asshole tight as it threatened to blast poop into the back of her pampers. Even though her diaper was covered by a yellow diaper cover, she didn't want to shame herself by pooping her pampers in front of two girls who were literally half her age. "Umm…" Yuki muttered, simply dumbfounded. A loud, muffled fart broke the awkward silence of the daycare as Takara pushed everything out into her awaiting disposable. The gushing torrent of enema fluid created a sickening muck that rapidly enveloped Takara's freshly shaved clit. "I don't think that the manual covers this."Aoi stated as sge watched the mother of one of her charges thoroughly pack her pampers. "No shit." Yuki replied. "WAAAHHHHH!!!" The once proud prosecutor cried out at the top of her lungs, flailing her arms and legs as she realized what she had just done. "I think we better change her." Yuki offered. "That's not in my job description." Aoi countered. "How about you do it?" "One. Two. Three. Not it!" Yuki announced. "Ugh, you bitch." Aoi sighed and sat down in front of the bawling mother. "Let Aoi change your diaper and maybe we can figure out how to fix this, okay?" Takara ceased her crying and gave the young woman a dirty look. Well, it may have been a dirty look, but her look definitely wasn't as dirty as her diaper…. The End! If you enjoyed this story than feel free to check out my Patreon for more stories about all manner of different diaper based things! https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213

Hi all. I thought I'd tell you my hospital diapering story. I write to you right now while wearing a large and somewhat soggy diaper with a medical look to it, while wrapped up snugly in my warm blankets. These diapers are very spacious and thick, they have the odd effect of making me forget where my pee-pee is positioned at all--seems it could be anywhere in the mass of almost nerve-numbing padding. I think I wet while I was laying down earlier, though I'm not totally sure. Probably peed a couple of times. Feels like I won't need a change for a while though. When I poke at these undies very gently with one finger only, it seems like wave of pressure is coming from all directions. I couldn't tell you where my finger was, or where my genitals were. They're in there somewhere, and that's probably for the better considering the accidents. Let me back up a bit and tell you how I got here, and how I ended up in diapers pretty much against my will. I had a mental health episode back in early February that landed me in an institution. I would rather not go into the specifics, suffice to say I was going to be holed up for a while. I remember that the food was hard to get used to at first, but, you get used to it. As a safety precaution, I was only allowed to wear the outfit that was approved there, a plain looking hospital gown and some ruffly thin trousers. They'd begun to force an unknown cocktail of medications on me which were having some pretty strong effects. I could tell by how sedated I was that there was some kind of anti-psychotic in the chemical soup. Three times a day with meals I took pills of many different colours, none of which I knew the potential side effects of. I guess I had to simply place my trust in an authority whose methods were unknown to me. It was around my fifth day there when I noticed pee leaking down my leg under the trousers I had on. It had already came out, I had no recollection of peeing. I was a bit dazed, and couldn't make out what that strange cold feeling was for a while. I noticed when I sat down in a chair in the common room that my crotch had a few thin lines of wetness emanating downward from it. It was only then that it dawned on me, I'd wet myself. No idea when, but I was wet now. I stood up and shuffled around, looking for my nurse. Her name's Lindy, she's a pretty woman a few years older than me. If I had to describe her body type, she's fit but a little thick, with something extra on the caboose. You'd almost think she was wearing diapers too, if it wasn't for her panty lines. I spotted her as she walked briskly past me on her way to the east wing. I had to catch up with her, but she was too quick. I followed along behind, trying hard to stay focused. It seemed like I was nearly ready to forget the whole matter and lay down on the cool tile floor for a nap. "Lindy?" I called. "Lindy?" She stopped and turned. "Yes?" "I had an accident I think," I said calmly, much more calmly than I would have if I wasn't totally drugged. "I see, I see," She said in a laid back and cool way. "Let's go, follow me." I was a little bit disoriented as she led me by the hand to the room I was staying in. I had little sense that we were going there until we were actually in the room. In a lot of ways it was more like a cell than a room, with white walls and an angular metal bunk bed being its most defining features. Up above my bed there was a small sliver of window, with bright sunlight trying to poke as much of itself in as possible. "Can you sit on the floor for me, hon?" She helped me to sit on the floor. The chillness of it made me shudder. Suddenly, I was feeling really cold. I started to shiver. "I'm c-cold," I stammered. "It might be a side effect of one of your meds. I'll be right back, you just stay on the floor, okay?" "Why the floor?" I asked hazily. "Well," She began, as if trying to find the nicest words possible give the awkward circumstances, "I'm afraid you'll pee on the bed--be right back, just stay there..." She trailed off as she briskly exited the room, closing the door behind her. I distinctly remember hearing the door's lock reverb through the room as it was turned, and suddenly I felt a burst of warmth on my crotch as I erupted into feeble shivers. I don't know how long I sat there, but when Lindy returned she had a really thick looking blanket which immediately put my heart at rest in a child-like sort of way when I saw it. She was also holding under her arm what looked like a package of diapers. I watched as she laid the blanket out on the bed and placed the diapers on my little bedside table by the ruled journal they gave us. I took this fact without concern, not really making the connection of assuming that those diapers were going to be there for me. Soon Lindy had placed a mat on the floor beside my bed and motioned for me to come over. "Come on, come on sweetie. This won't be so bad." I went to her cooing call, transfixed by her disarming gaze. It almost looked sensual at the time, but I doubt she wanted anything to do with my pants-wetting butt beyond merely changing it. Before I really knew what hit me, I was fastened into a gigantic crinkly diaper. I tried to sit up at first but fell back. Luckily, Lindy was there to catch me and help me sit up against my bed. "So, we have you in a brief," she said, looking at me with a sympathetic gaze that suggested a little pity as well. "I need you to not try to take this off, okay? I really, really need you to cooperate with me." "I don't wanna wear a diaper--" "I know, I know you don't. But I really can't trust you after that big accident you just had," she cooed. "No, no!" I said, raising my voice slightly as the gravity of the situation began to weigh on me. "Please, they're not so bad to wear... Will you do it for me?" She winked at me and smiled contagiously. I couldn't help but capture a little of her smile on my own lips. "Well, fine," I said after a pause. "But I don't need diapers." "Yes you do, remember that accident you had? I can't have you trailing pee. That's not nice feeling, is it?" She shook her head for emphasis. "Oh, yeah," I replied after a pause. I shivered some more and Lindy helped me into my bed and under the covers. She tucked me in like as if she was my mommy. It felt that way at the time. "Now you're all snuggly and warm, and protected. I will bring you your dinner and your medication soon, okay?" "Thanks mommy," I said before I could stop myself. I laughed at the silliness of what I'd just said and could have swore I felt something warm swelling up on my crotch. "Sorry mo--I uh--sorry Lindy." She looked at me for a long time after I said that. Not with an unhappy gaze though. I could see some pity in her eyes for her poor diapered patient, but there was something motherly mingled in there as well. When she sat down on my bed and began to stroke my hair, the motherliness was made much more manifest. There was no doubt that she cared about me in that most vulnerable moment. I think as she stroked my hair, I continued to dribble into my diaper. I shivered here and there, which only made the fight to keep my pee inside more difficult. I have no idea how much I was peeing at the time, but after she left the room I took a peek under the covers and saw that it looked puffy and yellow, though I felt totally dry. It was weird at first, I wasn't used to the oddly comforting and convenient mechanics of my new diapered life. Here I was peeing myself in bed and it didn't even feel wet. I looked at the plastic tabs fastened firmly on the front panel of my underwear and tried to pull one of them off out of curiosity and absentmindedness. It wouldn't budge, so I gave up my effort soon after. I didn't know what to think about being diapered at the time. so I rolled over and tried to get some sleep. I passed out almost immediately. I woke up in a daze and tried to sit up, though I struggled to at first, feeling a little bit dizzy. I stared at the wall for a while as I came to. The room seemed darker somehow. I looked up at the little window and saw no light pushing through. It must have been the middle of the night. I went under the covers again and looked at my diaper with an absentminded, child like curiosity again. My diaper's different! It wasn't soggy yellow anymore. When did that happen? *** I'll cut to the chase and fast forward a little. As the weeks went on I came to really like Lindy's diaper changes. She was really gentle about it and rubbed lots of baby powder into me with intimate movements. Her changes were the highlight of my otherwise dreary days at the asylum. I liked to look at her thick thighs as she cleaned me. I wasn't sure if my bladder control was getting better or not, and I didn't really care or think about it. As the weeks went by I watched as package after package of disposables came and went, doing their time on my feeble and soggy bottom before being relegated to the diaper genie. By the time of writing this, it seems I've lost most of my bladder control. But I'm not really concerned, since I have Lindy around most days of the week to keep me changed and secure. Maybe it's not so bad here. I found a group to play with during common time. When we aren't playing video games together, we're playing with blocks. They don't seem to know that there's a diaper under my pants, but it seems like they're as hazy and inattentive as me. I swear I caught a glimpse of the waistband of a pull-up on one of the women in the group. Maybe most of the patients here were in some kind of diaper. Luckily for me Lindy always made sure I was changed into a clean brief before playtime so I wouldn't have to be interrupted. So that's my story. I hope you liked it. End note: this is a fictional account. Hope you enjoyed the ride.

Thanks for the feedback! I'll probably post a chapter every other day, give or take. Feedback always welcome, although since the story is finished I probably won't be able to change much. Chapter 3: Becoming A few minutes later Jenn and Karen came back. They had a shopping cart loaded with supplies. “I had a few questions,” Karen started, “since this is… unusual… first… a Pet cage is listed, but I think we can just get a travel crate, right?” “Yes, since you’re leaving soon, you can just borrow a cage for now, and then get one in California.” “OK, do we need all the restraints that are listed?” Angie looked at the list. “Well, the travel crate you selected- which is a really good one, by the way, I guess you were listening during the ‘Travelling with your Pet’ class- comes with a special muzzle that connects to the crate’s water supply, so you don’t need another muzzle for now. You do need the Pet-Paws… yes, the lockable kind, until he’s trained well enough to be trusted not to remove them… no, you don’t need the harness right now… yes, you will definitely need this.” She held up the metal contraption. I knew what it was from the ‘So Your Pet is a Male’ class. It was a chastity device. I whimpered, and Jenn laughed. “Why does he need this?” Angie looked at Karen. “Well… as you know… Pets and Keepers are very sexually attracted to each other. Very. And since you’re female and he’s male… well.. until you neuter him, he could get you pregnant. Usually a Pet and their Keeper are the same sex, so it’s not a problem, but in your case… well… at least one of you needs to wear a chastity device, and I assume you don’t want it to be you, Jenn.” Jenn laughed again. “Nope. Good point. Ok.” I had been silent, but I chose then to speak up. “You’re not going to neuter me, right? I mean… neutering?” I was panicking again, pulling against the leather . Everyone turned around with a surprised look on their faces. They had already forgotten that I could understand them, and talk, and had only a short time ago been a virile man. Angie was the first to respond. “Karen, open the travel crate, and take out the included muzzle. It’s a good one. At this point, I think it would be best to proceed without input from your new Pet, especially because it's someone familiar to us. I know it seems horrible to say, but the early part of this process is frankly a lot easier if you can disassociate a little. We need to think of him as a Pet, not a human, and he needs to start thinking of himself that way as well. Otherwise, we'll end up thinking and reacting as if it's our friend Jeff, who we know and love and trust, as opposed to the Pet that Jeff has become, who we love, but don't know or trust." “Oh c’mon,” I tried to protest, “I’ll be quiet, I promise. Really. Please don’t put a muzzle on me.” By that time, Karen had found the muzzle in the included items in the travel crate, and was peeling the packing plastic off it. The red plastic looked intimidating. Karen handed it to Jenn, who brought it over to my cage. Angie instructed Jenn through the process of putting it on me, and what to say to get me to accept it. Jenn unlocked the access door at the front, speaking gently but confidently. “It’s OK pet. I’m going to put this on you. You’ll be fine. Relax. Let me put this on you.” Her voice froze me, and I didn’t feel the need to fight as the plastic contraction was placed on my face. First one, then another, then another strap was buckled and pulled tight. Soon, it was on and locked. I tried to talk. Only the faintest sounds came out. I tried to yell. Barely audible. “OK, much better. Now we can do what we need to do.” Angie handed Jenn a pair of scissors. “OK, it’s time. Let’s get all his clothes off. He won’t need them any more.” “Won’t he get cold?” Jenn asked, snipping carefully at my shirt, keeping a hand on the back of my neck to keep me calm. “No, a Pet’s body changes quickly. There are some obvious changes such as the lack of bladder control and the poor decision making, but other changes include the Pet’s metabolism changing to generate a lot more heat, so he’ll need a special diet that can supply the energy, and over time he will become lighter.” My top half was bare, except for the muzzle, and my shirt and the front of the gown were laying on the bottom of the cage. She closed the front access doors and opened the rear doors. Soon, my pants, the rest of the gown, and my shoes and socks were laying on the bottom of the cage as well. These clothes were wet, evidence of my new-found lack of bladder control. All the clothes were pulled out of the cage, and after my phone, wallet, and keys were removed from my pants, everything went into a trash bag. Now I was cold and naked, on full display, in a cage with a number of other people walking around me, examining me. Jenn seemed most interested in my genitals, reaching in and fondling them. Angie smiled. “As I said, the Keeper and Pet have a close sexual bond, and, frankly, neither would be able to control themselves. So, until you get him neutered, you should keep this locked on. Jenn, here, take these, and get his knees as far apart as possible.” “Spread your knees for me, my Pet. Good boy. Good boy for spreading your knees.” I moved my knees apart, obeying my Keeper. My Keeper reached into my cage, and I felt the leather straps tightening around my legs, holding my knees at the sides of the cage. I was now well spread, presenting an embarrassing view to what I had hoped such a short time ago would be my wife and in-laws. “First, let’s clean him up down there. Jenn, take this cream, and rub it around where his diaper will be. It’s a hair remover.” I could feel Jenn’s hands all over my crotch, rubbing the cream everywhere. There was a little burning sensation, and I tried to maneuver to get more attention on my throbbing member from her, but my restraints limited my motion, and it seemed she touched me just enough to tease me. I whimpered inaudibly through the gag. A minute later, I felt the cream being rubbed off. “Wow, that was fast, and now he’s completely hairless.” I felt a hand on my genitals. Somehow I could tell it was my Keeper’s hand exploring my now completely smooth skin. I wanted so much more than her light touch. My frustration was building, but there was nothing I could do. Angie left briefly and came back with something in a paper towel. I had seen this class before, so I knew what it was… an ice pack. I whimpered and squirmed, but I was still held tightly. There was talking behind me, but I couldn’t understand what was being said. When the ice pack was applied to my genitals I tried to scream, but I could feel my erection quickly diminishing. After a minute of so the ice pack was removed and Angie showed everyone how the metal cage clipped around my balls and caged my now limp penis, preventing sexual activity on my part. I could feel the weight. Angie looked around, and handed the key to Valerie. “You shouldn’t ever allow Jenn access until he’s neutered. Otherwise they _will_ have unprotected sex. You don’t want that, because the medical, never mind legal, issues around Keeper-Pet babies are complicated, at best. When you get home you should put it in a safe that Jenn doesn’t have access to. Got it? The next person who touches that key has to be the Pet doctor that will neuter him.” Valerie nodded and attached the key to her key chain, dropping the key to my release in her purse. I whimpered again, but no one heard anything. “So, after he’s neutered that can come off?” I had to smile a little, despite my discomfort, as there was a slight note of desperation in her voice as well. “Well, there will be a few days after neutering where he may still have live sperm, so maybe a little after neutering, but talk to the doctor. Also, many Keepers use chastity devices on their Pets as a control device, because as you know many Pets will hump anything alive, and many things that aren’t. The chastity cage can help control that a little. You can decide later, though.” Jenn just nodded. Angie went back to the shopping cart, coming back with a package of diapers and some wipes. “Good, Karen, you were definitely listening in the traveling class. These are the most absorbent with all-around coverage, and the cool thing is that they are designed so you can reverse them front-to-back. This way it makes it more difficult for the Pet to tamper with the diaper, as well as making it easier to put on a caged Pet. A good choice when he’ll be in the crate for a long time traveling, but probably too expensive for normal daily use… but you can get regular diapers back in California. Jenn, let me show you how to diaper him in the cage. It’s harder than when they’re free and you can just lay them on their backs.” She opened some more access hatches, and showed Jenn how to wipe me off, including down my legs where I had dribbled. The wipes felt strange on my newly smooth skin, and the lack of sensation on my penis due to the chastity cage was disconcerting. I heard her unfold the diaper, and I felt her put one end on the small of my back. Pets wore diapers, I knew that. I had changed JoJo I don’t know how many times, and seen Pets be diapered in demonstrations in classes many times. I had never given a thought to it being me here, in the cage at the front of the classroom. The humiliation was too much, and I broke out into yet another round of sobbing into the muzzle. Then, the part I had been not at all looking forward to. The thick diaper was pulled forward between my legs, and one side was pulled up and taped on the back. The diaper was adjusted some, and then the other side was pulled up and taped. Then two more tapes tightened everything up. Even with my legs still spread to the side of the cage the diaper felt hugely bulky between my legs. The leg openings itched a little, and I tried to wiggle a little, not solving anything but hearing the diaper clearly crinkling. Then I felt two fingers running around the inside of my crotch, settling the leak guards and relieving the itching, but causing a pain in my groin as I responded to the intimate attention. “OK, now that he won’t dribble all over everything, let’s get him into his restraints. I really recommend that you go with both arm and leg restraints. Jeff is a strong Pet, and until you get him conditioned and trained… well, I know he’s a good boy, but he might hurt himself or others by accident.” Angie took the Pet Paws out of their packaging. Opening a front access hatch, Angie showed Jenn how to talk to me, to keep me calm, while she removed the cuff on one wrist. She then took my arm and placed it in the Pet Paw. I had seen them before, of course, and had even helped Angie put them on JoJo once, but I had had no idea how limiting they felt. My fingers were held spread in a comfortable position, but useless through the leather ball. At the bottom of the paw were traction pads, arranged in the pattern of a cat or dog’s paw pads. My wrist could only bend a few degrees. They came about half-way up my forearm, and the zipper locked at the top. A metal ring at my wrist allowed Jenn to clip the paw to the cage again. Soon, with Jenn talking confidently in a commanding tone to me, both hands were useless. With the front paws done, they moved to the back. “There are different schools of thought that you'll hear, but I recommend that all new Pets be kept down continuously for the first few weeks, or even months. First, their changing body will physically adapt faster this way, and it also psychologically reinforces their position. These paws are the best, because they have everything from the integrated knee pads to the thigh strap here that will keep them down. Let’s get these fastened on… Jenn, keep him calm…” Soon, it was done. “OK, last few things. Registration.” She pulled out a box. “I need a blood sample… I guess I got ahead of myself, as usually we do it on a finger. Oh well, any place will work.” Taking a little snap device, she put it on my upper arm. I felt a little pop and felt a little sting, and she used a strip to collect the drop of blood. “Be right back…” Joe came over to Jenn, looking at his phone. “OK Jenn, you’re booked in Jeff’s seat. Jeff… you… well, you’re flying Pet. Same flight time, but they want us to the airport a little early so that we can get Jeff checked in. I couldn’t do it here because we don’t have his registration number yet, but they said as long as we had them when we checked him in it wouldn’t be a problem." Jenn smiled. “Well, I guess it worked out about as well as it could have. I mean, I just got off school, so I have the whole summer. Hope you don’t mind if I crash at your place for a while, Dad…” “Of course not. This is a big thing! We can have a little Binding party if you want... invite some friends over... cook some burgers. I mean, I had expected a wedding… but… a Pet is nice too. Cheaper for us, too. ” He smiled at me, trying to add a little levity to the situation. I slouched in the cage. Weddings. Working. Graduation. So many things that were important to me, now gone. Wait, what about my family? I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of them yet. None of my family had been able to afford the trip out to see me graduate… so none of them knew anything yet. I tried to get their attention, to get them to remove the muzzle so I could ask Karen to contact my family, but to them it just looked like I was having another panic attack. Jenn reached in, petting me, talking to me. I welcomed her touch, but it didn’t stop my tears. Angie returned, a tablet in her hand. “OK, everything checks out. Genetically he’s as expected, no issues. No diseases found. So, last part. Normally we have you fill in a paper form and then we enter it, but given the timing I’ll do it directly. OK, Jenn, your name and address?” “Jennifer Buxton. 123 Applegate Road, Seattle, Washington.” “Age?” “19”. “Sex - female… eyes - brown… height?” “5 feet, 11 inches.” “OK, that’s all for you. OK, Pet…” “Human name? Well, I know that. Address? I know that as well. Age... 22, right?" Karen nodded. "OK, weight?” She looked at a display on the cage I was in. “131 pounds. Height?” She looked at Karen. “He’s 5 feet, 4 inches.” “Ok, Keeper, do you want to change his name, legally? I recommend it, to help him make the transition.” Jenn looked at Karen. Karen shrugged. “Most Pets have a name that is something close to the human name they are losing. As you probably know, most names for Pets are diminutive. Maybe something like JayJay for him? Kind of like JoJo.” Angie and Jenn both smiled. “Yup. I like it.” They didn’t ask me. “JayJay it is then. OK, I think we have everything here. Oh, temporary address? This will go in his chip, in case he’s recovered. You can change it anytime.” Joe spoke up, and gave their address in California. “Right, ok… checking, checking, all good. This is a legal form, so Jenn, please sign here….” Jenn took a stylus, and signed on the screen. “His blood test functions as his signature, and he’s your dependent already anyway, so…” she pushed a button. “Done. He’s your Pet, legally.” Jenn’s petting of me increased in intensity, and her hand gripped the side of my muzzle. I had no more tears to cry. "OK, so based on the registration…” Angie picked something up. I recognized it from another class we had taken. It was the chipping gun. She took a small package, and held it to an area on the table. “OK, chip’s programmed.” She looked at me. “Sorry Jeff… I mean JayJay, I hear that this isn’t pleasant. But it will be over quickly, I promise.” She opened a hatch on the top of the cage and used an alcohol wipe to clean an area on the side of my neck. She inserted the little pellet into the gun. Pinching the skin on the side of my neck she had cleaned, she pressed the gun to it and quickly hit the trigger. A pain as if I had just been stabbed came from the injection site, and I tried to scream into my muzzle. “Good thing that muzzle was in, right JayJay? Here Jenn, hold this over the injection point until the bleeding stops.” I felt my Keeper’s hand on my neck, and immediately relaxed. She was talking. “You’re here. You’ll be fine. I’m your Keeper. You’re safe with me.” I felt myself slipping into a trance. “OK, last thing, Angie said. Did you pick out a collar?” A collar. The ultimate symbol of Pet-hood. I guess it was inevitable. “Yes, we have three… we couldn’t decide. The first is this basic leather collar.” OK, it wasn’t that bad. A basic leather collar. Angie looked at it. “Yup, basic locking collar. Not a bad choice.” “The second option,” said Karen as she held up a box I couldn’t really see through the chrome bars of my cage, “has tracking and monitoring. This was my choice.” "And the third option was this.” Jenn held up another box I couldn’t see. “Has the tracking and monitoring, along with what they call ‘Positive Pet Control’. What’s that?” Angie sighed. “I don’t like those, Jenn. They are… well, they’re shock collars, really. They’re for really stubborn Pets that need more consistent behavioral reminders to correct specific problems when the Keeper isn’t around, but I see too many Keepers who buy them because the Keepers themselves don’t know how to properly train or condition their Pets. The collar that Karen has is the one that I recommend, and the same one that JoJo wears… I guess she was listening when she attended my classes!” I closed my eyes. We had covered collars in a class that we had taken only a month or so ago. The monitoring collar would let Jenn monitor my health, alertness, activity level, and, if I somehow managed to get free, my location. At the time, I had thought that would be a pretty great set of features to have it we ever got a Pet. Not so much for me. Karen opened the box, and pulled out the collar. Installing the batteries, they spent a few minutes downloading the app to their phones, connecting, and making sure that everything was working. While they were doing that, Angie fetched the metal registration tags that had been printed in another room, and attached them to the front of the collar. They jingled a little. Then Angie opened the front of the cage and handed the collar to Jenn. “OK JayJay, it’s your big moment. Reassure him, Jenn, and let him know you’re going to take good care of him. That he doesn’t need to worry about anything. Tell him he’s a good boy.” I heard the words coming from my Keeper’s mouth, but they went past my conscious hearing. I held still and closed my eyes, a warm comforting glow around me. I felt the collar around my neck, and then the click as it locked on. I shook my head a little, getting used to the feeling of the collar around my neck, a feeling that would be there for the rest of my life. I opened my eyes, still hearing my Keeper’s voice. She kissed me on the forehead, and a tingling warmth ran over me. I felt owned. I felt safe. I felt like I was a Pet. ** Angie looked at her watch. “OK, it’s 12:30. That didn’t really take all that long.” I had been reduced from an adult with a freshly printed college diploma, to a non-human Pet in a wet diaper in a cage, in an hour and a half. Great. “I think that we all need a break. Why don’t you go get some lunch… I’m sure you’re hungry, and it’s been an exciting morning. I’ll take care of Jeff… JayJay… if you’ll help me for one moment, Jenn.” Karen and Jennifer looked at their parents, and shrugged. “OK… Jenn doesn’t need to stay with him, though?” Valerie asked. “Yeah, I’d… uh… I feel like I shouldn’t leave him. Can I just stay here?” Angie shook her head. “He’ll be fine for a few minutes. He needs some time to process this too. You’ll have plenty of time to bond. Why don’t you go out, and come back about two? An hour and a half? And Jenn, just help me with this one thing.” Meanwhile, she had unclipped my front and rear… paws, I guess… from the cage and released the straps holding my legs open. I was free. In a cage, but free. It felt good to move around a little. As I closed my legs, I could feel the thick diaper, and the metal cage on my privates. I saw her reaching into the drawer. She came out with a leash. “OK Jenn, Come here and clip on his leash. I want you to tell him that the leash is an extension of you, and if he’s on the leash, it’s just like you touching him.” This had been covered in a class. I remembered. I knew exactly what was supposed to happen. I could fight this. I was supposed to feel as if my Keeper was there, and react on the leash as if it was her hand guiding me. I closed my eyes, trying not to hear her voice, but it wasn’t working. I could feel her control, and my willingness to follow her directions. “The leash is my hand. When you’re on the leash, you’re safe. When you’re on the leash, you’re in my control. If you follow the leash, you're a good boy.” The voice went deep into my psyche, repeating. I knew that my Keeper wanted to control me, and I knew that I wanted to follow her commands. When I felt a tug on my collar, I realized I was on the leash. Angie opened the front of the cage, pulling out the ramp under the cage, so that I could descend. I followed the gentle tug on my collar. The pull relaxed me. I could relax, and follow the pull of the leash, and know that my Keeper was happy, so I was happy. I could feel myself fuzzing out again as her words echoed in a part of my brain that needed, indeed craved, her input and control. I descended the ramp, and Jenn, following Angie, headed for the door of Room 3. I had entered an hour and a half ago, half man and half Pet, still fully clothed I was leaving on a leash, the thick diaper a clear indicator of both my status and level of control, and the restraints on me a poor reflection of the trust others had in my ability to behave. I was at the same time humiliated and ashamed… humiliated that I was on a leash, wearing a diaper, clearly a non-human, but ashamed that I couldn’t be trusted to be a better Pet for my Keeper. I paused, but my Keeper’s voice along with the firm pull of the leash was more than I could resist, and I followed my keeper out into the store. Jeff's Story by JustForFun is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. You can share it with attribution, but cannot change it or make money off it.