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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.

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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Hi all, I wasn’t sure the right forum for this as it applies to “all of the above” so I apologize if this isn’t the right place. Due to a combination of intentional and unintentional factors I’ve been losing some weight. I tend to be on the cusp between medium and large, and traditionally I size up. But with the recent slimming down I feel like larges are just a tad too large now. This is weird. The diaper looks and feels so much more snug. I’m not used to feeling the tapes (with larges the tapes are over the front panel). So it’s simultaneously thinner and thicker feeling. The real test will be seeing how it holds up.

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 +

Chapter 24: The Only Other Option I hated everything about going to the doctor. I tried to avoid thinking about what this doctor’s appointment was going to entail as I got ready for the day, but nothing I did was able to prevent my thoughts from drifting back to the subject. There were the normal fears: needles, all the ways I’d be poked and prodded, the way that the general atmosphere of the hospital always seemed to unnerve me. But there were also some fears that were specific to this occasion: I had successfully tricked my parents and older sister into believing that I was genuinely wetting the bed. But what would happen when my situation was examined by a professional? I had a sudden fear that they would be able to see right through the façade. Could there be something about the way I had gone about faking my bedwetting that would clue a doctor into the fact that it was all a lie? The one good thing was that I wouldn’t be needing to take those anti-bedwetting pills anymore. It shouldn’t have taken as long as four days to convince Mom to give up on them, but when she got me out of bed this morning, the sight different sheets than I had on the bed the night before was all the confirmation she needed that I had wet the bed and changed my sheets overnight. I didn’t bother with faking a headache this morning. And I didn’t have an actual one, as I’d managed to fake taking the pills the night before. I fiddled around with my breakfast as Mom focused on getting Jackson ready for his first day at his summer camp, sipping on a glass of orange juice while nibbling on a piece of toast with cinnamon butter on it. In the background, Mom was chasing Jackson around, prodding him to finish getting dressed and packed. I wasn’t normally all that enthusiastic about breakfast, but today, I didn’t feel hungry at all. My stomach felt all jittery, and while the upcoming appointment was weighing heavily on my mind, it wasn’t the only thing that was making me nervous. I was going to have to bring up the topic of pull-ups with my parents soon. I couldn’t hold off for much longer, not if I wanted to avoid having the birthday sleepover get canceled. I stared down at the kitchen table. There wasn’t any way I could eat anymore. I went to dispose of my half-eaten breakfast. I dumped my half-piece of toast in the trash, but Mom caught sight of what I was doing before I could pour out the rest of my orange juice in the sink. “Madelyn,” Mom said. “You need to finish your orange juice.” I paused with the glass of orange juice held over the sink. “But I’m not thirsty.” “I poured a full glass for you because Dr. Mathorn said he wanted to make sure that you were hydrated for the appointment. Now, please finish it because we need to be out the door in a few minutes.” I retreated from the sink and finished the orange juice, as Mom had asked. Why would Dr. Mathorn care how much I had to drink for breakfast? <><><> It was a bit of a relief that we had to drop Jackson off first before we needed to be at the hospital for my appointment. I sat in the car while Mom took Jackson inside to drop him off at his all-day summer daycare camp. I remembered the summers when I had been forced to do that every day. Sometimes, it had been fun. We took cool field trips to museums or amusement parks. But there had been plenty of other times when I had been forced to take part in group games or activities that I had no interest in. I’d rather be at the park playing soccer with my friends or curled up at home reading a book. “We’ll be at the hospital in about ten minutes,” Mom said once she got back in the car. “It will be in plenty of time before your appointment.” The silence in the car as the ride to the hospital began was deafening. On any drive longer than a few minutes, Mom typically had music playing, usually from some musical. Today there wasn’t anything coming out of the speakers. I thought it perhaps was because she wanted to talk about the upcoming appointment, but the next few minutes instead passed by in silence as I texted my friends. I mentioned that I had a doctor’s appointment I had to go to, mostly because I wanted someone I could complain about it to, though I played it off as a standard check-up. Both Angie and Emma were also excited to hear the news that I was allowed to stay home by myself during the summer, but disappointed by the restrictions my parents had still placed on me. Emma texted, asking if she could come over after lunch to hang out. I promised Emma that I would ask, though I didn’t think I was going to like the answer. “Can Emma come over after lunch? Please?” As happy as I was that my parents were now entrusting me with the responsibility of being able to stay home during the summer by myself, there were a couple of downsides to it, namely the fact that I wasn’t supposed to have anyone over or be at my friend’s place without their parents or adult siblings around. That wasn’t to say that I wasn’t going to enjoy my time alone. Between having as much time as I wanted to read Harry Potter without being accosted about the lack of diversity in my reading habits and being able to have more chances to experiment with wetting my pants, there was plenty to occupy my time. “That’s not going to work today,” Mom said. “Your sister is going to be gone all afternoon, and I’m heading off to work once the appointment is over. I wasn’t intending to take the whole day off.” “But Mom, that’s going to be boring. Can’t my friends at least come over some of the time? That can’t be any worse than letting me have the house to myself?” “We’ll see how the first few weeks go,” Mom said. “Then your dad and I could perhaps talk it over and see if that might be allowed.” I resisted the urge to argue further. That was probably as much of a concession as I was going to get. I passed on the bad news to Emma and received a bunch of sad-faced emojis in response. <><><> The last time I had seen our pediatrician had been at the start of the last school year, when I had gone through my normal physical required for the soccer teams I played on and had also gotten up to date on my shots. The only good thing about that last appointment was that Dr. Mathorn had reassured me that it would be several more years before I would need any additional vaccinations. That was far enough away that I didn’t need to worry about it for now. I took a seat in the waiting room as Mom got in line to get me checked in. We had arrived about twenty minutes early. I scanned the magazines stacked on the table next to me, trying to guess which one might have some ads for diapers or pull-ups. After flicking through the pile of magazines, I came across a parenting one. I looked over to where Mom was standing in a long line. I had plenty of time to browse and then put it down before she got back. I did manage to come across a few advertisements for baby diapers, which had me reflect again on the strange white diapers I had discovered in Hannah’s suitcase, ones that had two tabs on each side rather than one, but there weren’t any ads for the bedwetting pull-ups. I did stumble across an article discussing late potty training, but unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time to read it, as I could see out of the corner of my eye that Mom was at the front of the line. I reluctantly set the magazine down and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Mom came down to sit beside me a minute later, grabbing the same parenting magazine that I had previously been reading. I waited anxiously as a nurse occasionally stepped out of a door and called someone’s name. I breathed a short sigh of relief each time it wasn’t mine. I was so not ready for this. After about ten minutes, the nurse again stepped out into the waiting area. “Madelyn?” <><><> The first parts of the appointment were no different from past check-ups. I was weighed and had my height measured. I was a little disappointed to find that I wasn’t five feet tall just yet. I still had another inch to go for that. And according to the scale, I weighed ninety-six pounds. Then there was the exam room to deal with. The nurse led Mom and me in and had me take a seat on the paper-covered exam table. She listened to my heartbeat and then took my blood pressure with that uncomfortable cuff that went around my arm. Nothing was said yet about the reason for the visit while all these tests were underway. I sat silently while the nurse types some details into a computer. “I’m going to go and grab Dr. Mathorn for you,” the nurse said. “She’ll be with you shortly.” Then, it was just Mom and me in the room together. She was sitting in a plastic chair off to the side while I remained at the exam table. Mom gave me a reassuring smile as I looked over at her. I tried to mentally prepare myself for Dr. Mathorn’s arrival. I couldn’t have her thinking in any way that the bedwetting might not be genuine. I nearly slid off of the exam table in surprise as the door to the exam room swung open without a knock. I smiled nervously as we all exchange some pleasantries. Dr. Mathorn took a seat in front of a computer and pulled up a chart with my medical history. “I see you are going to be turning thirteen this weekend, about to be a teenager. That’s so cool. You have something fun planned for your birthday?” The difficulties I often had with lying hit me right there. “I was wanting to have a sleepover…” My voice trailed off. While that still was my plan for the coming weekend, sleepovers weren’t something that bedwetters went to typically, at least not in my family, and certainly not without something like medication or pull-ups to keep the issue hidden and managed. “Of course,” Dr. Mathorn said. “I can see why that would be more of a challenge. Your mom did talk with me about the reason for this visit.” I winced as I bit my lip a little too hard in nervous anticipation of what she was about to say next. “Your mom mentioned that you’ve had some recent issues with bedwetting. Is that right?” There was no need to fake how embarrassing and humiliating that question was, but that was the price I had agreed to pay in order to get those pull-ups. I tried to conjure the feeling of the pull-up from Hannah’s suitcase. I had worn it just the day before. If I could just get those pull-ups for myself, all of this humiliation would be worth it. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything in response. I looked down at my lap and nodded. Mom saved me the difficulty of needing to give a full update on the status of my recent bedwetting. She filled Dr. Mathorn in on all the details: when the first bedwetting accident had happened, how frequently it had been since then, the unsuccessful attempts they had taken so far to try to get the accidents to stop, our family’s history of bedwetting. I finally managed to look up about halfway through Mom’s speech. Dr. Mathorn was just nodding along as Mom talked, as though the subject of bedwetting was something she came across on an everyday basis. Dr. Mathorn turned to me once again after Mom had finished with her very thorough explanation of the past week-and-a-half of my bedwetting. “Plenty of kids wet the bed – even some adults,” Dr. Mathorn said. “Even though it is more common in elementary age kids, it still does happen with kids around your age as well.” Next came a whole litany of questions for me: Did it hurt at all when I peed? Had the color of my urine changed at all? Had I had any accidents in the day or had any times when it felt like I had to urgently rush off to the toilet? Was I waking up a lot at night? How much was I drinking before bed? Was I having trouble falling asleep? Had I been happy at school? I answered all the questions as truthfully as I could, even the ones that didn’t seem to make all that much sense. It wouldn’t do to get caught in any unnecessary lies, but so far, the questions, if a little awkward, had been pretty straightforward to answer. Still, I found that I wasn’t quite able to meet Dr. Mathorn’s eyes as I answered all of her questions. The gentle interrogation continued for a few more minutes before arriving at a surprising – an even more awkward – question than the ones that had pertained directly to the bedwetting and my peeing habits. “From my notes from your last visit, you hadn’t gotten your first period yet. Has that changed?” “Um.” It wasn’t as though I didn’t know what Dr. Mathorn meant. My health class the year before had provided way more information than I would have wanted to know, and I figured that a little more than half of the girls on my soccer team had to deal with that affliction that came from growing older. “No,” I said at last, followed by the only question that came to mind. “But why would that matter?” “That’s not something we’ll know until we’ve got all your tests taken care of. There are a lot of things that could cause bedwetting to start, and puberty – hormones and the way your body is changing – could be one possible factor.” Tests. I took a deep breath. What tests? <><><> If I had known that faking bedwetting would have resulted in needing to have my blood drawn, I might not have been brave enough to go through with it. The testing area was on the main floor of the hospital. I had trailed behind Mom on the way to it like a prisoner heading to the gallows. The worst part of it was that Dr. Mathorn seemed to have implied that there was going to be more than one blood test that would be required. At least the chair to sit in during the blood draw was comfortable. It was soft and allowed me to lean back quite a ways as I set my feet on a footrest. The nurse who would be drawing my blood rested her hand on my arm. “I’m going to need you to relax. Why don’t you look off at the picture hanging in the hallway? I’ll count down when I’m ready.” I tried to follow her advice, focusing my gaze on a painting of a mountain landscape in the distance. “Three.” “Two.” And then the needle was in. I gasped audibly as the nurse poked me. She hadn’t even waited until saying “one.” That was not fair. “You poked me early,” I protested a few seconds later after the blood draw was finished. “That’s because you were less tense then. I don’t think you’d want me to have to try again if I missed your vein the first time.” As the nurse placed a pink Band-Aid on my arm, I admitted to myself that she had a valid point. <><><> Next, it was time to pee in a cup, and I understood why I had been required to have a full glass to drink along with breakfast. That test was easy enough to pass, though it again made me worry about what would happen when my blood and urine tests came back and showed that there wasn’t anything noticeably wrong with me. What exactly were they hoping to learn from those tests? I managed to fill up the plastic cup nearly all the way with any difficulty. I’d gotten better at making my body need to go whenever I wanted to over the past week or so. I didn’t even need to hand the cup back to the nurse. There was a discreet hole in the bathroom wall to slide the cup of pee into afterward. But that wasn’t the last test. I followed Mom down a couple more hallways to the final exam room, where they did an ultrasound of my bladder. I saw some black-and-white images flash on the computer screen during the process, but I had no clue what they meant, and the technician doing the ultrasound said we’d have to wait to talk with my doctor afterward. <><><> Dr. Mathorn was waiting for us in the exam room when all the tests were finished. “We can rule one thing out right away,” she said as I once again took a seat on the exam table. I tried to decide whether that would be good news for me or not. “Some of the results we can get back right away,” Dr. Mathorn said. “The lab technicians ran a test of your urine, and it came back negative for a UTI, which isn’t too surprising since you weren’t showing any other symptoms for that. There’s a more thorough test they’ll do later that takes a few days to get results back, but I’m not expecting it to say anything different.” I tried to look relieved, as if I wasn’t completely aware of what the test result was going to show. “So, what do you think the issue might be, then?” Mom asked. Dr. Mathorn swiveled in her chair to face Mom. “There are a number of things we might look for in a situation like this, where bedwetting is starting for a teenager who hasn’t had any previous issues. We’re going to test for diabetes as well as any other medical conditions or illnesses that could be causing complications. There is your family’s medical history to consider since there is a genetic component to bedwetting. And given Maddy’s age, it could very well be an issue with hormones that may resolve itself on its own in a matter of weeks or months.” Dr. Mathorn turned to face me. I again couldn’t quite manage to look her in the eye. “I know it is frustrating, Maddy, but I don’t think we should worry about it much until we’ve got the test results back and have a better sense of what the next steps should be.” “But what should we do in the meantime? Are there other medications we could try?” Mom asked. That caused me to groan loudly. I was annoyed at how Mom kept avoiding the obvious solution, but I hadn’t intended to noticeably complain about it. “You didn’t like the pills you used the past few days?” Dr. Mathorn asked. “No, they gave me headaches, and they didn’t even work at all.” “That’s OK,” Dr. Mathorn said. “We won’t make you take those pills again. And for now, I think it would be best to wait until we get the test results back – it shouldn’t take more than a week – until we think about trying other medications.” That was it. We were back to square one. The question was now on the tip of my tongue. All I had to do was ask. Surely, pull-ups would be an acceptable choice for now if there weren’t any other options to choose from. It was so obvious that pull-ups were the right decision to handle my bedwetting at this point. Why was it so difficult for either of the adults to bring it up? I swung my legs back and forth. The exam table was tall enough that my feet didn’t come close to touching the floor. I wanted to ask the question. What was stopping me from doing it? I just couldn’t get the word “pull-ups” past my lips, so I asked something else instead. “But what about the sleepover?” Dr. Mathorn looked as though she was about to say something, but she paused as Mom answered my question first. “I think we’re just going to need to skip sleepovers for a little while,” Mom said. “I’m sure it won’t be long before you get better.” “There is something that could help with that,” Dr. Mathorn said tentatively, as if not wanting to upset me. “It’s not something you have to try, but there are other kids, some of them your age, in fact, who find that it helps to wear some protection to bed.” --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

I just purchased another 4 cases (12 packets) of Drylife slip super. Starting my incontinence journey again. I already have a tone of IC nappies stacked in my bedroom.

Edit: I don't know what the formatting issue is, but feel free to read this again in a more comfortable and viewable font and please leave comments unrelated to this formatting mistake. I started this on Christmas break, but I did not post it because it wasn't complete, so I guess you get to read it out of season. I would like feedback other than, "It's almost the end of April." There are two Christmas songs that everyone hates and I included them both. I also included a Christmas song that I hate too, which really started the thing and gave me the idea for the story. What if Christmas songs came true with the consequences of a bad genie wish? Santa Baby I lay down on the bed in my dorm room submitting to a diaper change from my roommate. “When is this ever going away?” I asked. I shivered as the cold wipe ran over my privates and then slid around on my bottom. “It’s your own fault,” said Sherry. “I warned you about that song. So what did the doctor say?” “Ugh,” I said. “He said nothing is physically wrong with me and it’s all psychological, but both the incontinence and ‘53 convertible in blue are real.” Sherry pulled the front of the diaper between my legs and taped the diaper shut. I sat up and held my arms up as she got me into my dress. “Thanks for putting up with this,” I said. “It’s embarrassing that I have to ask for help since I can’t undo diaper tapes. That is also psychological because I am not so weak I can’t untapped a diaper.” “No problem, Liz,” she said. “You are letting me drive a convertible wherever we need to go out. I don’t mine pampering you a bit.” So how did I end up being diapered by my roommate after completing an entire semester and most of my life without having a single accident? In this story, I will tell all about it. After the first semester, my roommate Sherry and I put an ad up on the bulletin board for a ride home from college for Christmas. Our ad was answered by a young man name Henry or Hank as he preferred to be called. He was from the next town over to us from when we were in high school and Sherry agreed to take him with us, so the three of us rode toward home. We walked out to the parking lot with our luggage and Hank waited for us. “Hi. I’m Hank,” he said. “Well, you probably know that.” “Let’s get things loaded up so we can go,” said Sherry She led us to her old Nissan that had seen better days and opened the trunk so we could put our meager amount of luggage inside. We each only brought enough to get through winter break and not much else. We didn’t even bring our computers, but left those in the dorm. We piled into the car and Hank took shotgun. I had to sit in the back with Hank’s bag of laundry. The seats in the car were threadbare cloth seats and paint was peeling and rusting. He laughed. “I’d never thought I’d be fraternizing with two Dragons,” he said. “I was a lineman for the Fighting Eagles, so I would never have hung out with you two in high school.” Sherry frowned. “We are all Cardinals now. High school stuff doesn’t matter anymore.” “Right,” he said, “Let’s head off to Dragonland. I want to be home in time for my mother’s Christmas Eve dinner.” We drove through the college town. The completely empty college town that had been empty for two weeks so far, but all three of us had to be in town because our bosses at our part time jobs didn’t want to give us off. Sherry turned on the freeway and then we immediately got behind bumper to bumper traffic. “Looks like all these cars are trying to get away on Christmas Eve,” said Hank. I sighed, but then Sherry asked, “Well, I usually take the state highway, but I thought the interstate would be safer if we ran into a snow storm, don’t cha think?” “That makes sense,” I said, “but I need to be home for Christmas. This is the first Christmas my family is getting together since the pandemic ended.” Hank seemed to be quiet as we crept along the freeway, but by the time we reached the next exit, Sherry pulled off the freeway and drove back toward the state highway. “I want to get home too, so I guess we are not taking the freeway.” Once on the state highway, we drove along at a much faster pace. The car had warmed up nicely and I leaned against Hank’s laundry and fell asleep. # I woke up as the car slowed down. I looked around, but Sherry had driven off onto a side road and we were headed toward a small town. “What’s up?” I asked. I could barely see ahead of us due to the snow coming down. It almost looked like we were going through hyperspace on the Millennial Falcon with the snow coming down. “I just stopped for gas,” said Sherry. “I didn’t fill up because gas is so much more expensive in our college town. They raise the prices just for students leaving during break.” The car drove toward a small town. “I don’t like this,” I said. “The weather is pretty bad.” “It’s fine,” said Sherry. “We just get gas and then we get back on the state highway and continue on our journey home.” We pulled into the town. I read the sign out loud. “Welcome to Christmas Town. Absolutely no singing of Christmas songs is allowed.” “Cute that the town is called Christmas Town, don’t cha know?” said Sherry. She pulled onto a roundabout in the center of town which went around a small pond. “No Christmas songs allowed? What are they going to do if I sing in the car?” He began to sing. “Grandma got run over by a reindeer. Coming home to our house Christmas Eve?” I saw it first. There was a blur of brown fur and then a terrible crash and the spun out and rolled over and landed on the roof. We were pushed into the frozen pond by the momentum. “What happened?” asked Sherry. “I think we were hit by a deer or something,” I said. “Are both of you all right?” asked Hank. “I’m fine,” said Sherry. “I’m a bit shaken up, don’t cha know.” “I landed on your laundry bag,” I said, “so that broke my fall.” Suddenly, there was a cracking sound, and the rear of the car fell through the ice and sank into the water. I immediately was drenched as I plunged under the icy water. The front of the car was still above the broken ice and Hank and Sherry got out before the rest of the car slid into the icy pond. I was in an immediate panic. I could barely move, I was so parallelized by the cold, but I kicked off the backseat into the front seat and managed to swim out the door to the top off the ice. Strong hands grabbed me under my arms and pulled me out of the water and onto the ice. I shivered and couldn’t feel my feet or my hands, so Hank had to pull me across the ice and back onto the road. “What are we going to do? Liz got soaked and she’ll freeze to death because it’s so cold outside,” said Sherry. Around us was the downtown area of the town with it’s frozen pond in the center where our car had sunk into the icy hole. At first I had shivered as the icy cold water bit against my skin. However after a few minutes, my clothes stifled me and I had to take them off. I shrugged off my wet coat and started to take down my bluejeans. “What do you think you’re doing?” asked Sherry. “Leave your clothes on.” “But I’m so hot,” I complained. Hank took both me and Sherry by the collar and steered us to the nearest building. It was locked, but he took a long metal hook from his pocket and slid it into the crack between the two glass doors and popped the lock open. We walked inside. I was still hot and pulled my unzipped pants down and then grabbed to pull off my wet t-shirt. “Liz, it’s cold. Don’t undress or you will freeze to death,” said Sherry. “No. She needs to take off those wet clothes before she freezes. Let’s find something warm and dry for her. Until then…” He removed his coat and wrapped it around me since I had stripped to a just my underwear.” “No, I’m hot. I’m burning up,” I complained as he zipped his coat around me. I felt like I was sweating and I really needed to get his coat off of me. The building was piping hot and hot air blew on me from the vents. I wanted to go outside where it was not so hot and wait until we could call a tow truck to get Sherry’s car out of the pond. “I’m going to wait outside,” I said. “I really can’t stay in here.” Suddenly music began to play and when I protested about being in the building my voice came out as a song. “Well I really can’t stay.” Hank spoke up but his voice came out in a song. “But, baby it’s cold outside.” “I've got to go away.” There was something weird about this place. “Baby, it's cold outside,” said Hank. “This evening has been…” I started to say. “Hoping that you'd come in,” said Hank I tried to slip off the coat he loaned me, “It was so, very nice” “I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice,” Hank took my hand and held them. I literally felt like my hands were burning from his touch. We needed to get the car out of the pond and go home. “My mother will start to worry” “Beautiful, what's your hurry?” “My father will be pacing the floor” “Listen to that fireplace roar.” The building did have a nice roaring fireplace and there was a Christmas tree near by. The building was a department store and there were shelves of stuff, and there were lots of supplies. But I wanted to go home. “Maybe we can get a ride.” Hank held me back from going out the doors. “No cabs to be had out there.” But I really can't stay Baby, it’s cold outside.” Sherry even spoke and they sang together, “Baby, it's cold outside.” Hank held his coat shut around me. “Ugh, you're very pushy, you know?” Sherry sang loudly, taking over for Hank, “Think of you parent’s sorrow,” “But we can just hang outside,” I suggested. “If you got pneumonia and died” “Baby, it's cold,” said Sherry “Baby, it's cold outside,” Sherry and Hank sang together. Suddenly I felt very cold, even though Hank’s coat, which was warm and down filled should have warmed me up. “Ugh,” I said. “I’m freezing.” I shivered and Sherry led me closer to the fire place. Hank walked around the store and then came back. Sherry hung my wet clothes over from the fireplace mantle. I looked at my wet bra and panties hanging next to my jeans and t-shirt and blushed. They were old underwear and weren’t the nicest and I didn’t really want Hank to see them. However, I was not about to put my icy clothes back on until they dried. Hank came back. “There are racks where the clothes were hung, but they’ve seemed to have been emptied.” Sherry shrugged. “I didn’t find any coats.” “I wish we were at my house,” I said. “There are probably plenty of dry and clean clothes in packages under the tree. I had asked Santa for some new outfits.” “It’s too bad Santa can’t come by and bring us some clothes and even give us a lift,” said Hank. Music began to play from the clock tower outside. I stood without being able to stop myself and walked over to the Christmas tree. “Don’t you dare sing this song, Liz. It infantilizes women.” I sang anyway, “Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree For me Been an awful good girl Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” I grabbed the sable coat and put it on after dropping Hanks coat on the floor. The I turned back to the tree and continued to sing. “Santa baby, a '54 convertible too Light blue I'll wait up for you dear Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” A old fashioned convertible appeared next to the Christmas tree, I had everything I needed to dress warmly and get home, but I wanted more. I continued to sing. “Think of all the fun I've missed Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed.” I kissed Hank and as I leaned over the tail of my coat rose over my bottom. It felt like my butt expanded a bit as well. “Liz, what are you wearing under the coat?” asked Sherry. “That’s a diaper, don’t ya know.” I ignored her and continues to sing. “Next year I could be just as good If you'll check off my Christmas list,” I sang. My crotch suddenly felt wet and hot as my bladder released with no warning. I thought of what else I wanted. Should I asked Santa for a new boat or jewels or should we go for a deed to a duplex? I chose the duplex. “Santa honey, one little thing…” I soiled myself, the mess squeezing into the diaper, but I continued to sing despite the smell. “I really do need…” Sherry grabbed me from behind and put her hand over my mouth. “Hank open the front door.” He ran to the entrance and opened the double glass door, then ran back to us. “Put Liz in the car and do not let her sing. Whenever we sing Christmas songs, they come true. And this song is making Liz regress into a baby.” He dragged me kicking and squirming into the back seat of the car. I couldn’t get the lyrics out because his hand covered my mouth. Sherry hopped in the front seat, started the car and peeled out of the store, squealing tires as she swerved around the pond. She drove through the slushy streets throwing up a wake of snow behind us until we reached the highway. I tried to get out of Hank’s grasp and sing for my duplex, but he kept his hand clamped over my mouth. When I tried to sing though his fingers he pinched my nose so I couldn’t breathe and held me that way until we left the city limits of Christmastown. He let go of me and I looked down at myself. I was no longer uncontrollably singing. However, I wore only the sable coat and a diaper. The diaper was wet and messy and I smelled. I felt the mess against my skin and looked down at myself in shame. The sable coat was warm, but my infantile garment on my lower half took me completely by surprise. “What had I done?” Sherry pulled over. It was cold and we were in a convertible. The heat was on, but the warm air just floated out of the car. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of me, but she focused on getting the top of the car put up. The three of us sat in the car as the heater warmed the inside. I looked around sheepishly. “I, uh—” “I told you that song infantilizes women,” said Sherry. “There is no way you would knew I would end up in a dirty diaper from singing this song. This is worse than freezing.” “There’s a duffel bag in here,” said Hank. He opened it and pulled out a diaper. “It looks like a diaper bag.” I shook my head. “No way,” I said. “Just get cleaned up,” said Sherry. She stepped out of the car and Hank got out and joined her. I took the diaper bag. I hadn’t seen it and I certainly hadn’t asked for one from Santa, I sighed and looked inside. All I could find for clothes was more diapers. I thought about going bottomless, but it was cold. Instead I grabbed a clean diaper and some wipes and prepared to clean myself. However as I pulled the tapes they were stuck fast and I couldn’t get them undone. “Sherry,” I said. “I can’t get the tapes undone.” She joined me in the back seat and watched me struggle with the tape. She then pulled on the tape and it came right off. I couldn’t get the wipe container open and she finally had me lay back as she changed me. “How did you get that tape undone?” I asked. “It’s so sticky?” “It just came off, don’t cha know,” said Sherry. “Should I put a clean diaper on you?” I nodded. “There are no bottoms and I don’t have any other clothes, unless we want to go back for my blue jeans.” “We better not go back or we might sing a song that has even worse consequences,” she said. She dress me in the diaper and I just pulled my sable coat down to cover my lower half. Hank got back in the car with us and Sherry drove us home. I wet once more on the way home. When I got ready for bed that night Sherry got me out of my diaper and I put on my regular clothes. I wet the bed that night and then as the day progressed I found out I was incontinent. It sucked, but Sherry diapered me the rest of vacation. When we returned to school, Sherry and I made a deal. She could drive my car, but she had to change me until we could find a cure. Somehow I thought we might have to return to Christmas Town to find a cure, but I didn’t want to be trapped there if we sang an even worse song. Maybe the price of being a greedy girl singing Santa Baby was incontinence and diapers. At least we got a nice car out of it. The End.

Congrats, @Enthusi - assuming that's appropriate, of course. I tend to view losing weight as aspirational, but I know that's not always the case. I tend to trend in the opposite direction, although I did drop a fair bit of weight about a year ago. My body is a strange shape, with tree-trunk legs that are bulky relative to my waist size - often my legs need an XL while my waist could work within a large or even the outside edges of a medium. I also buy diapers from a number of manufacturers, which leaves me in this position: Rearz' "newer fit" diapers work best on me as an XL, but L will fit, though snugly. Whereas in their "original fit" diapers, XL is large on me, and L is generally just right. However, I still have medium NorthShore MegaMax diapers in my inventory and they fit. Their size L would also work, and their size XL is approaching bariatric proportions and would probably leak on me and go up to my chest. When I wear the medium MegaMax or the new Rearz large diapers, I know what you mean - the tabs are over towards my hips, rather than out in front of me, and the whole diaper feels slimmer and snugger. I don't mind the feeling, because I grew up wearing diapers that were small on me (it was the pre-pull up era), but I do have to be careful about leaking over top of the front of the diaper, for example, if I'm sitting or laying down, and I'm pointed the wrong way down there. Whereas in an XL diaper, I'm covered past my belly button, so I don't have to worry about "orientation" down there.

I stay stocked but being poor keeps me from binging lol

There was nothing to do but to tell him the whole truth and hope he would understand the gravity of the situation I'm in. By now night had fallen and a chill in the air nipped at my bare, piss-covered legs, so I suggested we build a fire before I tell him the whole story. With Tav's quite-useful ability to conjure fire at will, setting up a small campfire down on the ground below did not take long. While I did not relish the idea of staying in this nightmarish crash site any longer than necessary, with the monsters dead now, staying here was probably a much safer option than continuing to travel forward in the dark until we found a more-suitable campsite. I knelt down, bathed in orange firelight, and finally had a chance to inspect my diaper. It was... Not a pretty sight, to say the least. Even in the dim light of the evening, you could easily see that much of the diaper was heavily discolored. It sagged down several inches from where it should due to the sheer weight of my mess. And even with the smokey scent of the fire filling the air, the putrid stench of the shit in my diaper still burned my nostrils, inescapable and incredibly shameful. I just hoped Tav couldn't smell it now that he sat on the other side of the campfire. And to top it all off, a tentative touch revealed a slight tingling sensation that I knew meant a diaper rash would be forming in the very near future. Fucking fantastic. Just what I needed on top of everything else. "So..." I began, "You probably have questions about why I'm... Dressed like this." My eyes didn't stray from the burning logs crackling quietly between us. As much as I'd had my fill of flames after that vision, it was still preferable to looking Tav in the eye while I was in such a humiliating state. "I mean, I'm not one to pry... Okay actually I definitely am one to pry. But like, I wanna respect your privacy and all, but, that IS a diaper, right? 'cuz it sure looks like one." I nodded. "Yes, it is." "Uh-huh, okay, well umm, I don't mean to be too direct or anything, but-" "Why am I wearing a diaper? Why is it very obvious filled with my own piss and shit? Why haven't I changed yet?" I interrupted. He paused for a moment. "Yeah, I think that about covers it." I closed my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. Where to begin? Perhaps the beginning would be best. "My earliest memory from childhood is being saved from a wolf by the followers of Shar. I have no parents that I can remember, so they took me into their fold and raised me as one of their own. As I grew up among them, I knew I wanted to serve Shar with all my heart and soul. It was my greatest aspiration." "Sounds like as good a goal as any. How did that land you in diapers?" "I'm getting to that, have some patience!" I snapped at him. "Sorry! Please continue." "As I was saying, I wanted to be serve my Goddess to the best of my ability. I knew that some followers of Shar often were chosen to be set apart from the others, hand-picked by Shar herself for some greater purpose. I prayed everyday that one day I might be chosen as well, and eventually--a few months ago, actually--my wish was granted... And I hope Shar will forgive me for saying this, but... Barely a day has gone by that I haven't regretted that decision." I almost expected my mark to burn me upon saying that, but it did not. And yet still, speaking these truths allowed felt painful to me in a different way. My chest felt tight, and my whole body burned with shame. I looked up at Tav, who motioned for me to continue. Apparently he had learned not to interrupt me after my last tongue-lashing I gave him. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot after all. "Are you familiar with Shar's other names and titles?" I asked him. "Uhhhhhhhhhh... Goddess of Night, maybe? Although I don't know how that would relate to you wearing a diaper, so I'm guessing that's not the one you are referring to." I nodded. "You would be correct. The title I was referring to was 'Lady of Loss'. You see, much of Sharran doctrine revolves around relinquishing everything to Shar--your hopes, your fears, your pain, your pleasure, your dreams and your burdens. In doing so, you become an empty vessel to be filled by Shar. I don't know if that makes any sense to you if you aren't particularly religious." "No no, I think I get it. Kind of like a 'Become one with everything by being one with nothing' sort of thing? I knew an Open Hand monk who was like that." "I suppose that's one way to look at it." I said before turning my attention back to the fire. "Anyway, those who are chosen by Shar are blessed with incredible power, but they always end up losing something important to them in the bargain. For some she takes their sight, others might lose a talent, a skill, an aspiration, their emotions, it's different for each individual." "Sooooo for you she took your bladder control?" Tav interjected. I let out a rueful chuckle. "If it were only so simple, I would thank Shar every day for having taken so little from me. But alas, that's not all that she took." I stole a glance up at Tav and saw he was leaning in closer, enraptured by my tale. I returned my gaze to the fire. "She took away my... My dignity. My self-reliance. For you see, not only can I not control when I... Go...... I also cannot... Change myself..." My cheeks burned brighter than the campfire, I swear. It was so hard talking about my secret shame with anyone outside of the fold. And even they were not easy to talk to about this. "You can't change your own diaper? How exactly does that work? Is it like Shar put some kind of Enchantment on you?" I looked up at him, slightly surprised at his intuition. "Yes, actually. Any time I would attempt to remove my diaper, it's as though my mind suddenly goes blank and I forget what I was doing, only to be snapped out of my daze by my mark searing me with pain as punishment for my disobedience." I clutched the mark on my hand. Sometimes just thinking about the pain was as bad as the pain itself. "That sounds... Pretty awful, not gonna lie." Tav said. "So what do you normally do about your little predicament? Did they assign you a personal assistant to wipe your ass or something?" I shook my head. "If only I had been so fortunate. No, it was far more humiliating than that." I took a deep breath. My eyes had lowered even further, landing on my destroyed diaper. "Our laws compel any member of our flock to accommodate those from whom Shar has taken something fundamental--helping the blind or the lame get around and such. As for me, if I needed a change, all I had to do was... Ask for one." "Oh. Well at least you had brothers and sisters who were willing to help you!" I gritted my teeth, frustration boiling over as tears I didn't even know I had been holding back spilled down my cheeks. "You don't understand! The only thing more-humiliating than having your peers wipe your ass for you, is feeling like you are forcing them to do so under duress! They were not *willing*, they were *compelled* to help me! And that made them grow to resent and hate me more and more each day. I was a social outcast. Most of my siblings did their best to avoid me, lest I ask them for 'help' with my diapers." My hands had clenched into fists at some point in my little tirade. I forced them to unclench and wiped away some of my tears. "If you think I would eventually grow used to it, think again. Every day brought new humiliations. My brothers and sisters found new and... Inventive ways of showing their displeasure towards me without breaking any actual rules. I was alone. Alone and hated by everyone. My only solace was the belief that Shar had a purpose for what she took from me, but most days, that faith brought me no comfort. Even without the pain of Shar's mark, my every waking moment is a torment unto itself." A single sob broke free from my lips and I quickly forced my mouth shut and willed my chest to cease its heaving as I wiped more tears and snot from my face. I had not intended for all of this emotion to come out. I didn't want Tav or anyone else to see me this way. It was not good form for a Sharran to bare their vulnerabilities so openly. Add that to my ever-growing list of failures to Shar. "I... I'm sorry, Shadowheart." Tav said, his own voice more-somber than I'm used to hearing from him. "That all sounds awful." I took a swig from my water skin in an attempt to flush my unruly emotions back down deep inside of me where they belong. "You are now the only person outside of my Temple who knows my secret. And you now know why I've been so desperate to get back there, beyond just my mission to return the Artifact to Shar." I stole a glance up at him. His eyes were downcast like mine had been, before he also looked back up at me. "So what's your plan for dealing with you... Secret, until we get you back home?" "I don't know." I said shortly. I felt more exhausted than I think I ever had been in my life. I didn't want to think about my predicament. I didn't want to think about how long I'd be stuck in this fucking awful diaper. I didn't want to think at all. Silence descended upon our paltry little campsite. I had said all I wanted to say, as well as a few things a didn't want to say. And Tav certainly couldn't suggest anything useful unless his wild magics could somehow Teleport as to Baldur's Gate. Despite knowing this, Tav suddenly stood up with a forcefully that I knew would be followed by something completely idiotic. "Well, it seems to me if we're going to be traveling together, you're gonna need someone who can help with your little diaper problem." He looked around in the darkness. "And since there don't appear to be any Shar worshippers nearby, I guess the task falls to me. What do you say, Shadowheart? Ready to get that diaper changed?"

Nothing to see here, move along.

I am strictly a dl and whenever I try and find porn it ends up being adult baby😭 I completely understand we are more rare however it would definitely be cool to see more content involving a bratty dl or a subby dl without the ab stuff. I plan to make my own however It would be really cool to come across some in the wild

I believe I started another thread on this, I couldn’t find it. I’m starting a new one as I would say I’m actively training for complete diaper dependency (probably already diaper dependent, but never actually trained). I figured I should add to the collective knowledge of this lifestyle. 💚🖍🧸🛁⏱🏔 Backstory: I’m male, mid 40s, average build, business owner, former entertainer, canadian, active life style, in a committed ABDL aware relationship (yes, she interacts 🥰), grew up ABDL with minor minor fecal incontinence incontinence issues growing up. That’s the quick version, . I’ve been a member of this site since the long ago times. I’ll start this journey around my late 20s when I found out I had IBS. At the time my IBS issues were minor and didn’t require a diaper and a pad would be enough for the issues. Didnt have any urinary issues. Life happened, I was a performer for a while and my drug of choice was Ketamine, be careful kids. Who knew these things would result in my need for diapers. The journey started about 11 years ago in my early 30s. I would go through periods of wear diapers 24/7. Sometimes it was for a couple of days, a week, or weeks. This went on for a few years, then one morning, while living in a cabin I had to poop, really bad, I ran down the stairs and soiled my self fully. While cleaning up I contemplated why not just wear diapers all the time. I even have a post around 2013 talking about my conflict. This would remain for a few more years. About 7years ago, I had reached a place where my fecal incontinence had reached an uncomfortable level and I went back into diapees 24/7. FTR, I’m not a purest and have worn underwear from time to time… until recently. A couple of years ago I stop caring about using a potty, I just started using my diapee to pee in when nature called. Sometimes I would hold it if I knew I could change or something. I wasn’t actively training to be diaper dependent, it was more that I just didn’t care to go through the effort of removing my diaper. Which has brought us to the present. Where I am at. In the last year it’s been noted on my chart that i have urge incontinence, both fecal and urinary. I’ve been prescribed diapers. I’ve recently had test on my urinary system and have been told nothing found, however, I am not emptying my bladder completely and it’s causing issues. The doctor also believes because of my ketamine usage I have cause urinary incontinence issues, that can’t be resolved. I’ve also been told I’m not drinking enough water. What’s really funny is my doctor has prescribed tamsulosin to help me empty my bladder, the side effect it’s having is it’s causing me to have stress incontinence, as it cause muscles relaxation in the prostate. As such, I figure, why bother holding it!? I was having urge issues so now I’m just letting go when the urge is there. So I have started this thread to document my experience. As I was already kinda training, but now I’m actively training to be diaper dependent. I’ve been on that medication for the last 5 days and am curious where I end up a year down the road. I’m also scheduled for pelvic physio in early December, I’m noticed I have issues relaxing that muscle and well be guided through various technics to relax the pelvic muscles. Thank you for reading, Munkey

No and no. I don't binge buy and I don't get horny.

Not so much when I'm "horny" - reaching for my credit card tends to have the opposite effect on me. But I'm a sucker for sales, or, as I would prefer to describe it, I am a "shrewd buyer." I wear diapers 24/7 so their per-unit cost is a consideration - I'm going to burn through 2-4 of them per day on average, and if they cost $6 each, that becomes notable at the end of the year. So, I watch for the sales when I can. The post-Covid inflationary environment has only heightened my price sensitivity - I became concerned at one point that diapers were going to go from expensive to "absurdly expensive", and in some cases, they have - MegaMax diapers up where I am (Canada) are close to $200 a case now. Great diapers, but... damn. So when Rearz or InControl do their BOGO or 25% off sales, I tend to leap at them... which is how I ended up with 13+ cases of diapers in my basement, and my wife giving me the stink eye whenever a bulky package gets left on the porch. I guess you could say that I've "binged". But part of me says "Well, now I can go 6 months without shopping if I need to - I can always make it to the next sale!" Except the next sale is probably only 3 months away... you can see my problem.

Quick little anecdote, part of which I have may have mentioned here before - the drugstore nearby redid their shelving about a year ago, and they moved the adult diaper products over next to the youth/baby products, where previously, adult products were stocked with the sanitary pads and such. Although the "incontinence pads" are still stocked over there, whereas anything that pulls up or tapes on is now an aisle over. I guess it becomes a conundrum for the shelf planners - an incontinence pad is closer in packaging and appearance to a sanitary pad, but on the other hand, from a functional prospective, it is an incontinence product. But I guess it's a bit of a "how many angels can dance on the head of a pin" argument. However, they have put up new signage again - this time, overhanging, rather than on the caps at the ends of the aisles. My younger daughter was the one who actually pointed this out to me; we were in there picking up a prescription for my wife, and I said "Hey, do you want to see if they have any of the new Goodnites in stock yet?" - they released some new Goodnites designs which we found in the US but that had not made their way up here the last time we looked for them. So we angled towards the appropriate aisle, and then my daughter pointed out the three signs that were hanging from the ceiling over it - one read "Baby", one read "Diapers", and one read "Training Pants." I asked her if she found that insulting - her and I often trade jabs about if pull-ups are "diapers" (she contends they aren't) - but then she said, "Well I guess I can ask you the same question!" - and pointed out that the adult diapers were in the same aisle, progressing seamlessly from the adolescent pull-up sizes. Not that I buy my diapers in the drugstore very often, but, touché.

I leave the diaper buying to my Daddy.

I agree. She could be what Sarah Silverman was for normalizing childhood and adolescents bed wetting.

Thanks! Those were all things I experienced as well before I learned how much easier it was to get information off of the internet (and give my parent's old computer a lot of viruses). And it's funny too, because no way our parents would have realized that we were looking because we wanted to wear them. Kids get curious about all kinds of things when they are bored silly during a shopping trip. Yes, as has been hinted, Maddy's diaper making experiment didn't go all that well. The next flashback will cover exactly what happened for her then. I managed some very good makeshift diapers myself. Plastic garbage bags cut into the shape of a diaper, then lined with a ton of toilet paper, and then taped on like normal. I promise we are getting very close to Maddy getting what she wants (though not anywhere close to the end of the story)

Maybe you can see the future?

A desire to have big loads in a diaper can actually lead to a healthier life style by eating more fruits, (prunes or prune juice are excellent for large poopies) vegetables, and grains along with staying hydrated and exercise. One-two glasses of Metamucil in addition will help. After the large mess in my diaper, I sit back and relax while I enjoy the warm, squishy potty in my diapee. This morning my Little Kings diaper is very wet with a nice firm messy load that is becoming more compressed and squishy sitting here this morning, my reaction...ahhh

Hi Maly Jason is in for a bit of a ride but will he be happy about it... that's the question. It doesn't look like it now but will his stepmum have her own ways of helping him into nappies? Hi Parkintochter No your criticism was not harsh nor was it dismissed as I can see your point in the first chapter. However (and hopefully) as the story progresses some of those rushed parts will be addressed. But, as always, I thank you for taking the time to comment and such comments are always useful. Thanks Les

Wow, okay... Horthensia seems to be sinking and fast. I hope Jenny will be able to find why and how to help her. I fear for Jenny's capacity to wistand the pressure if even the neighbors start to have despicable attitudes like in this chapter. I can't wait to see what happens next. Cheers !

Nothing ATM. Had on a Puppers earlier. Wet, though not as much as I normally would after waking up. Getting a better feel for the premium brands lately.

I understand your confusion. I'll change the way this is listed. Thanks for bringing this to my attention.

How did I know she was going to be caught?

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

Hey Les Lea, I really like the set up with the stepmom forcing him to wear nappies. But I think the potentially best parts of the story are pretty rushed because it feels more like a summary what happened. I'd love to read more about the beginning how she diapers him the first time and what his life is when she puts him in them more often and often. Does she make him use them? All these things pretty much already happened in the second you read about it. Place do a slower pacing. Please let the characters breathe and develop a little bit. The plot of this first chapter could be told in like 10 chapters.

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.”

So long since an update but I know you are busy with other things. But really LOL leave us hanging on the cliff hanger oh boy LOL.

Not since I bought the ball gag.

I see London, I see Jaipur. I see her baby diaper.

“Ugh, this is so fucking typical!” Kelsey shouted in a frustrated tone, poking and prodding at her food with her fork before letting it drop to the plate as it sent out a loud, echoing crash. “Why is it so difficult to just send it back!?” Danny stared down at his own pasta as he stirred it around with his fork. He felt hopeless and completely unsure of himself as his eyes darted around the various points on his plate. He’d thought dinner had been going well up to this point, but like most things it seemed he was wrong. “Can’t you just eat around them?” He asked stupidly as he tried to get her to lower her voice, not wanting to have to wave a waiter down and demand that the restaurant remake the dish. “No, Danny. I’m not just going to eat around them. The entire dish is disgusting!” Kelsey shouted, clearly catching the attention of everyone around her. “It's not that damn hard!” Danny felt himself tensing up, feeling the eyes of those around them all looking in their direction as the waiter slowly dragged his feet in their general direction, obviously trying to avoid Kelsey himself. “Is uh- there anything I can do to make this meal more enjoyable, folks?” The waiter asked awkwardly, not sure how this was going to go as he stood off to the side, practically ready to dart at a moment's notice. Kelsey stared at Danny, widening her eyes as she waited for him to respond which only worsened the anxiety he had been feeling up until now. “Err- '' Danny started. “I- Is it possible too,” He started, feeling too nervous to ask for a replacement dish. After all, Kelsey had specifically ordered this dish, why was that the restaurant's fault? “Do you want to trade dishes?” He suddenly interjected, having thought of what he figured was the perfect compromise but Kelsey’s face made it very clear she wasn’t having it. She scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “Can you show me to the door?” She asked the waiter, suddenly getting up from the table as she grabbed her purse and followed after the waiter towards the exit. “Kelsey?” Danny sheepishly called out, now completely overwhelmed as his mind flooded with dark thoughts as his heart grew heavy in his chest. “We’re done, Danny. Find your own ride home,” She shouted back, not even gracing him with a look as she walked towards the door, the waiter awkwardly standing to the side as she passed, unsure if she actually needed someone to show her the way out. Danny’s heart sank further as he watched her walk away. He could feel all of the eyes in the restaurant on him as he heard murmurs and whispers that he could only assume were about what had just happened. Tears swelled in his eyes as he tried to hold them back, quickly losing as he reached for his napkin to wipe them away before anyone could see. 5 months gone, just like that. Not only was she his ride, she was his home, his roommate and if anything he’d at least thought she was his friend. They’d moved in together just over 2 months ago in an attempt to save money and now he was left sitting at a restaurant with no way home, or even a home to return to. “Is there- anything I can do for you, sir?” The waiter asked as he tried to hold his own composure. “Just a- check and a box, please,” Danny muttered as he avoided any form of eye contact, holding back more tears as he felt completely humiliated. The waiter nodded, quickly returning with a box and the check as asked before quickly helping pack up Kelsey’s meal as he could tell Danny wanted out of there. Danny awkwardly shuffled out of the booth and made his way out of the restaurant only to be met with a bitterly cold breeze at the front door as he stepped outside. The dimly lit, empty strip mall parking lot did little to boost his mood as he felt himself begin to shiver as he reached for his phone, delicately balancing the boxes of food in his other hand as he scrolled through his contacts in a desperate state of uncertainty. Hesitantly, he clicked on one as the phone started to ring. His anxiety numbed by the bitter cold as the rings echoed in his ear. “Hello?” A woman's voice said over the phone. “Uh- Hi…Mommy,” Danny said quietly, hearing his ex-girlfriend pick up on the other line. “Danny, sweetie,” Crystal asked. “What's going on?” She asked in a worrying tone. “I uh- was wondering if you could give me a ride,” Danny asked as he crossed his arms in an attempt to hold in some body heat. “Of course, why? Are you okay?” Crystal asked, sounding slightly panicked. “Yea…just… got dumped and left at the restaurant…” Danny said awkwardly. “Awww, you poor baby,” Crystal cooed with a condescending tone that Danny pretended not to pick up on. “Where are you at?” “Terry’s…” “Oh, I love Terry’s Bistro!” Crystal said ecstatically. “Tell you what, if you’re buying dinner, I’ll come give you a ride,” Crystal happily explained. “Oh uh- I already ate?” Danny said stupidly, not sure how else to avoid the complete humiliation of having to reenter that restaurant. “No worries, you can just share a drink with- well what does that make me?” Crystal asked teasingly. “Uh- sorry?” Danny asked, having been caught completely off guard. “Well, you left me because you wanted to play big kid with your new girlfriend, but now you’re calling me Mommy again?” Danny blushed quietly as he stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Crystal let the silence echo on for a few seconds before chiming in again. “Well you stay right there, sweetie. I’m coming and we can talk over dinner,” She said, promptly hanging up the phone before Danny could interject anymore. A cold gust of wind swept through the parking lot as Danny felt the little warmth left in his body be washed away. He stood trembling for a minute as he weighed his options. On one hand there was the option of braving it in the cold until one of his fingers ultimately started to purple, or there was the inevitable walk back into the restaurant where everyone could see him in his current disheartened, and trembling state. Though the decision was made rather quickly as another cold breeze swept through the parking lot, taking what little warmth he had left as he took a deep breath in before opening the doors to the restaurant as he graciously stepped back inside to accept the warmth. He stood sheepishly as the hostess pretended to fumble with some menus behind her stand before acknowledging his return. “I know I just left, but uh- can I get a table for two?” Danny said awkwardly, getting a confused look from the hostess who obviously was fully clued in to all that had just happened. “Of course,” She said without skipping a beat. “Right this way,” Danny anxiously spun his glass of water around as he watched the condensation fall to the table, pooling at the base as he tried not to think about the fact that everyone must be talking about him. Tables slowly emptied out as the waiter occasionally passed by to check on him as he waited for Crystal to arrive. Would it be a positive thing when another woman showed up, or would that only make them judge him more? 20 long minutes passed before the door chime went off as Crystal walked into the restaurant, glancing around before locking eyes with Danny as he let out a sigh of relief. She made her way over, taking a seat opposite of Danny with a smile. “Danny, sweetie. How are you?” Danny forced a smile back, still fighting back the occasional tear as he relived the night in his head as he wondered if there was anything he could have done differently. “I’ve been better,” He admitted, twirling the water cup around in circles. “Oh, you poor thing,” Crystal said, reaching her hand out to put on his. Danny stopped twirling his glass as he looked up at her. She was older than him and she always had a way to just make him melt. They had been together for years prior before Danny had made the stupid decision to branch out and meet new people. Though, in his defense it was partially encouraged by Crystal who didn’t think it was right that she was the only woman he had ever dated, but Danny had loved their time together. She was warm and compassionate and never struggled to cheer him up. She often knew him better than he knew himself and he’d always thought of her as his rock. Danny stared into her eyes for a second, giving Crystal the glimmer of tears he had been holding back before he reached for a napkin to wipe them away again. Crystal said nothing as he wiped them dry just as the waiter from early approached. “Hi!” He said, obviously shocked that a second person had actually showed up. “Can I start you off with a drink or anything?” “Well hello handsome,” Crystal said playfully, giving the waiter a quick glance over as he fought back a blush. “I’m going to have the prime rib. Mashed potatoes and green beans as the side, and a glass of red. Whatever you would recommend,” She said in a firm yet soft tone, all while giving him a rather wide smile. “Anything else,” He asked, feeling a little blushed in the face himself as he frantically wrote down the order. “Something strong for this kiddo,” She said, turning her attention back to Danny who was purposefully avoiding eye contact as he spun his water glass around. “Better make that a double,” She said before the waiter walked away. “So, tell me what happened,” Crystal asked. Danny shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. “Come on,” Crystal said. “You didn’t make me drive all the way out here for nothing, did you?” Danny sat quietly, mulling over the night in his head as he tried to piece together what happened for himself. “She uh, made a big scene at the table…said it was over…and then stormed out,” Danny said quietly, still spinning his water glass. “That's it? There wasn’t anything you did, or said?” Crystal pestered, knowing it wasn’t the full story. Danny shrugged again. “She just…” He started, trailing off as he felt ashamed. “Hey, look at me,” Crystal said, reaching out her hand. Danny instantly grabbed hold, slowly lifting his head to look at her as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths, already feeling overwhelmed. “Had you told her?” Crystal asked. Danny stared confused for a second, before putting the pieces together as he shook his head. “So then the two of you just grew apart?” Danny shrugged again. “Dear,” Crystal said sternly. “This isn’t going to go anywhere if you just shrug it off,” Danny let out a deep sigh. “It’s been…tense…for the last few weeks,” “Few weeks? Didn’t you just move in together the other month?” Crystal asked, already starting to guess at what the problem was. Danny nodded. “The first month seemed good. Then she started complaining that I wasn’t doing enough, and every little detail became this massive argument,” Crystal leaned back in her booth as she just smirked at Danny. Part of her had hoped he would become a little more independent with another woman, but it was clear he really hadn’t learned anything. At least not yet. The waiter returned with her wine, setting the glass down in front of her before sliding a double shot of whiskey to Danny who stared at it wide eyed. He hated most alcohols, but whiskey was especially the least of his favorites. “Your food will be out in another couple of minutes,” The waiter said, giving a smile to Crystal before turning to leave. “I think the kid is going to need a chaser too,” Crystal said with a smirk, giving the waiter's arm a soft touch as he turned to leave as she quickly remembered his hatred for anything that wasn’t sweet enough. “Of course…” The waiter started, looking at Danny. Crystal let out a laugh. His hopelessness was rather cute as Danny continued to twirl his cup, unaware the waiter was even waiting for a response.. “He’ll take a glass of apple juice,” Crystal said, watching the waiter's expression shift as he nodded and turned away. Danny waited for the waiter to leave before awkwardly looking up as he looked at Crystal. “Drink up,” Crystal said. Danny looked back down at the drink. “It’s-” He started. “Take a sip,” Crystal insisted. Danny did as he was told, slowly taking a sip as his face turned to disgust as the liquid sent a strong burning taste throughout his mouth as he recoiled in disgust. “Don’t be such a baby. Drink more,” Crystal insisted, swirling her glass of wine as she took a sip. Stupidly, he tried to gulp a large amount of it back as the burning sensation filled his mouth, spreading down his throat as he forced it down, desperately reaching for the glass of water as he sought immediate relief. Crystal let out a laugh that was soon followed by a chuckle from the waiter who had been unable to hold himself together after having watched everything Danny had gone through tonight. He slid the apple juice across the table, giving Danny a forced smile before chuckling to himself as he walked away. Dinner dragged on as Crystal pried into every little detail about Danny’s life over the past 5 months since they had broken up as she learned just how little had changed. “So, where am I taking you?” Crystal finally asked, breaking up the conversation. Danny felt himself shrink again, having momentarily forgotten about his predicament. “Uh- just the closest hotel I guess,” Crystal paused for a second, scraping the last of her mashed potatoes onto her fork. “Is that what you want?” She asked, cleaning her fork off before chasing down her last bite with the rest of the wine. Danny shrugged, unsure of what his other options were. “When you called me earlier, you said Mommy,” Crystal said, watching as his cheeks reddened. “Your old room is sitting empty if your interested,” Danny looked up, locking eyes with Crystal as he felt himself practically ready to cry again. “Rules would be the same, but if you want something a little more permanent than a hotel…” Danny nodded, suddenly feeling the burden of having to figure out the next steps drop from his chest as he downed the last of his whiskey, chasing it with the meager sip of apple juice he had left himself. “Well then,” Crystal said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mommy’s going to go use the bathroom,” She said quietly. “Take care of the bill and meet me outside,” Did you enjoy the story? Consider supporting my work over on SubscribeStar! Or be sure to let me know what you thought by interacting with the post!

Chapter 16: I Got Away With That? Kris was a little shocked. None of his siblings had commented about him needing to get changed, but he also didn't care. He was happily enjoying his ice cream he and his mom stopped for on their way to meet the family in the shuttle waiting area. Kris was a little confused at first, wondering why no one had any bags. Then he remembered what his mom said about him being able to change into underwear when they got to the hotel. He didn't fully understand how their bags got there but assumed that must be where they were, and that's why they had to accept that lady's help. They all got packed into the shuttle to their hotel. Kris was happy it was a bus. That meant he wouldn't need a booster seat. The ride was uneventful, it was a short drive to their hotel. As they pulled up, all of the kids couldn't help ooo and awe at the sight. They hadn't been on a family vacation before or stayed at any place that seemed this fancy. It almost felt like they were royalty. The whole place looked unreal. The kids could see different characters from some of their favorite films spread throughout the lobby of the hotel. The main lobby was so large and beautiful that they felt tears welling up in their eyes. "Are we staying here!?" Sam pulled at her mom's shirt, excited about making it to Disney World. "Yep, we are going to be here for the next week, and you are going to see your favorite princesses and characters from all of your favorite shows and movies. We do need to get checked in first, and get ready to head out, so can you stay with your big sister while daddy and I get us checked in?" Sam's eyes lit up with excitement, this was going to be the best thing ever! "Okay!" She ran off to join her siblings over in some of the lounge chairs as they each looked around the breathtaking lobby. "I bet you're excited to get out of that diaper," Tammi spoke towards Kris, keeping her voice low. "I'm sorry you went through that. It must've been a lot for you." Kris was lost for words, so he simply nodded as he blushed at his sister's remark. He felt small and exposed. He wanted to just forget about what happened, but his sister's words at least made him feel a little better. It seemed like his family was slowly starting to get the idea of how hard this had been for him. "I just want you to know, I got your back. I promise." Tammi's words were meant to be a comfort, but to Kris, it felt like an empty promise. He's heard those words a thousand times by now. Each time, it only took a matter of days, or even minutes before he found out it was just words, empty and meaningless. "Thanks." Kris knew he couldn't take her at face value; he would have to see it for himself before he could let his guard down. "Alright, kids, we got our room. Let's go." Kevin came over, holding a few key cards to access their designated room for the week. All the kids quickly stood up from their chairs and ran towards their parents, excited to see what magical place they would be staying in during this trip. Kris ran up in front of the rest, wanting to get into the room as soon as he could. He was excited to see what it would be like, as well as getting changed and showered. He wasn't sure if he'd have time to shower, but he still felt a little dirty from earlier. He hadn't noticed that Tammi was quick behind him, but not rushing past him. *** They ran into the room, throwing the door open, not waiting for their parents to enter. Normally, doing something like this would frustrate their dad, but he just smiled, seeing the joy and excitement on the kid's faces. The room was a masterpiece; every detail was themed around one of their favorite movies. They saw the theme spread throughout the carpet to the couch in the living room. It splashed in the kitchen, and they could see posters and picture frames with different artistic drawings of their favorite characters. They ran down the hall, realizing the place was way larger than they had ever imagined. Their suite had two separate bedrooms. If this was what hotels were like, then they wanted to stay at one every weekend! The kids came running back to the living room, where their parents and suitcases were. "This place is awesome!" Sam shouted in the suite. "Can we stay here forever?" Everyone giggled at Sam's question. "No, sweetie. This is just our home for the next week while we have fun at the park," Kim replied lovingly to her daughter's energy and excitement. Kevin walked over and grabbed his suitcase. "Alright, kids, you get the bedroom over there; there are two queen mattresses, so boys, you get one, and girls, you get the other. No fighting. Your mom and I are taking the other room over there." "Okay, Dad!" the kids responded, grabbing their bags and running off to check out the room they'd be sharing. The kids playfully pushed past each other, each one wanting to be the first into the room. Kyle managed to stay in the lead. He was built a little larger than the rest of the kids, making it harder for them to get past him. Swinging the door open, Kyle and the others saw the playfully decorated room. Each bed was furnished with to match the rest of their suite. Decorated in characters from the movies, with each bed having a painting hanging above the beds. "I call this one!" Kyle yelled, swinging his suitcase onto the bed by the window. He was waiting for one of them to argue, but none did. "That's fine with us; we're closer to the door," Tammi replied with a slightly mocking tone. Being closer to the door meant faster access to the shower in the morning, easier bathroom access, and the first ones in line to leave. Kris followed suit and tossed his suitcase up on the bed next to Kyle's. "I'm good either way, I'm just glad we are here." Kris began to unzip his suitcase, excited to put on underwear instead of wearing a diaper. He flew the top of it open, seeing the pack of nighttime pull-ups sitting on top. He quickly ignored it, he knew he had to wear them on the trip, but at least that was only during the night. Pushing them aside, he began to look under them for his underwear. Kyle's face turned a slight shade of red; he looked down towards the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone, afraid they'd see right through him. His heart pounded in his chest. How is Kris going to react? How much trouble is he going to get in for this? Would his sisters hate him for being such a jerk to Kris? After all Kris had to go through? He never thought things would play out the way they did when he pulled Kris's underwear out of his suitcase. He never thought Kris would have had an accident like that on the plane, and now he was in a diaper meant for babies. Even though they had their issues, he couldn't help feeling guilty for ruining his brothers trip. Kris felt confused. Digging through his suitcase, he couldn't find a single pair of underwear. Did he forget to pack them after the argument with Kyle? He thought for a moment that maybe Kyle took them out. "Nah, he might be a jerk, but he wouldn't stoop that low. Would he?" Kris thought. "Even if he did, there's nothing I can do about it now. I have no proof, and Dad told us not to fight. All this would do is get us all in trouble and start the trip off on the wrong foot. I'll just go tell Mom, and we'll get me a new pack of underwear. She told me she had my back." Kris closed the top of his suitcase and went into the living room, leaving his siblings in the shared bedroom to unpack their things into the dressers and closets available. "He's going to go tattle on me, isn't he? That's it, this trip is now ruined for the both of us." Kyle thought as he placed his things away. Out in the living room, Kris saw his mom grabbing another suitcase for her and Dad's room. "Hey, Mom, can I chat with you for a second?" Kris approached his mom. He hoped she would be understanding about the situation. She did promise him that he could wear underwear when they got back to the hotel. "Sure, Bud! What's up?" She set the bag back down and motioned her hand towards the couch in their suite. Kyle heard Kris ask their mom for attention. Worried and confused, he peaked his head around the corner to try and listen in. Normally, if Kris was trying to get someone in trouble, he'd go to their dad. So why did he bug Mom? "I think I left my underwear at home. I can't find it in my suitcase at all. I must have forgotten them." Kris spoke softly. He didn't want to be too loud for the others to hear. He felt embarrassed for forgetting to pack one of the most important items. "Wait! He thinks he forgot them?! No way!!" Kyle felt a rush of relief flood through him. He wasn't going to get in trouble. Kris didn't know. Kyle turned around to go back to the shared room to finish packing when he saw his older sister standing behind him. "I know what you did." She told him sternly. Kyle's eyes got wide with surprise. He tried to play it cool, but he felt his heart racing. "I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to walk past her, but was caught on the arm as she grabbed him. "You took his underwear out. You're lucky, he doesn't know it was you," she whispered into his ear. Kyle just looked at her, waiting to hear what she wanted, or what she was going to do about it. He knew she had no proof, but that didn't change the fact that her telling anyone could ruin the trip and break any trust among them. "You better have his back this entire trip, if you ruin this trip for him by picking on him, I'll make sure Dad knows who exactly to blame for Kris's misery" Her tone was cold. Kyle had never seen his sister like this before. The only one who had a demeanor like this was usually their Dad. "Listen, I didn't do anything." Kyle tried to deflect, pretending to keep his cool. But Tammi wasn't having it. She pulled him in closer, her facial expression becoming one of intense intent. "Okay! Fine, I have his back. I was going to anyway." Kyle's face fell, one that looked a little guilty, his cool demur finally breaking. "After that plane accident, I feel it's the least I can do. No one should go through that at his age." "Good." She released his arm, her expression softening. "Any idea what Mom is going to do about it?" "Do about what?" Kyle still wanted to play dumb. Even if she thought she knew, he couldn't give away any signs of actually committing the "crime". "His underwear." She stated sternly, feeling tired of his act. "No idea, I didn't hear. I only heard that he forgot to pack his underwear." Even if he was acting like he didn't take Kris's underwear out, he wasn't lying either. He stopped listening after he realized he was in the clear. Kyle walked back to their shared room, leaving Tammi in the hall all by herself. She quickly followed suit to finish unpacking. All the while Kyle's heart continued to race knowing full well this trip was already on thin ice.

Going potty in my diaper while engaging in normal activities when possible is the best.

Though it is well-written, I'm not enjoying this one as much as the "rules" series. One of the reasons is that I want to like the MC but I'm finding it very hard. I know that kids this age can be cruel and unfeeling, but how is it possible for someone who is actively trying to get put into diapers to be so judgmentally negative about a girl she meets who actually wears them? I mean the girl is utterly obsessed by them; this reaction is not very likely. It would be one thing if she were just going along with her friend, but she is clearly thinking these thoughts on her own. I'm not suggesting that kids need to act or think in a consistent manner, but this just seems incomprehensible to me.

Hey everyone! Blasted small emergencies and last-minute events I couldn’t get out of cropped up and delayed me releasing this chapter last night. I’m hoping things will be a little more settled and I can just start popping these off daily, as it actually is pretty fun to write. 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 3: Smash and Spank and a Surprise My best laid plans actually succeeded for once in this dimension, and in no time flat, everyone at the foster home was informed that I was going to be leaving to live with Nancy by the end of the week. Mrs. Tatum and the Littles were of course devastated, and while I wanted to tell them the truth about why, Kathy’s looming presence deterred me significantly. Unfortunately, Kathy only doubled down on her efforts to humiliate me in my time left, and I almost wet my training panties one day after she held me back from using the potty to finish coloring her a picture. In the end though, Nancy swung by the next day and rescued me back to her own home. Like so many others around here, the home was massive by my standards but according to Nancy, it was just a ‘decently sized place.’ She could have afforded something larger, but she preferred to use her money wisely and she said she didn’t need much. She hinted at that possibly changing, but I was so enamored with my new room free from Kathy that I didn’t really pay that much attention to what she was saying in that particular instance. So, the next week rolled on and I was enrolled in the local daycare for when Nancy was at work. It was actually a pretty interesting place at first and I had been assigned to the Canopy room while I was staying there. To me, it felt like some novelty party room themed to the jungle or the tops of trees, but it was at least pleasant enough to get me through the day. To my chagrin, it meant that I was placed with some already regressed Littles though, but I soon found the book nook in the room and was happy to just sit back and do some reading. Back at home though, things were even better. Living with Nancy, despite the fact that we were a Little and Big living together, she almost went out of her way to accommodate me almost like I was just her roommate. I guess I essentially was, but both of us always kept in mind that sort of boundary ceased to exist beyond the four walls and when the new LPS agent came to inspect the house at the start of my second week here. “Okay, let’s see… training panties, child-proof locks and safety covers over outlets, no choking hazards, nothing sharp or toxic if ingested…” Nancy was running down the list of things she knew the agent was going to check for and that could be a problem that would result in her paying a fine most likely and me being sent back to the foster home. I still wasn’t a big fan of wearing training panties still, but Nancy had demonstrated two things to me since I had arrived here that made me at least tolerate them better than I had before. First, normal underwear my size was rare and half the pairs we found, we discovered actually had regression properties of some kind laced within the fabric, so the risk was just too great to chance it. Second, and more important though, due to the society’s notorious traps for regressing Littles and laws stipulating wet pants without protection could lead to severe punishment, training panties at least offered somewhat of an out… just in case. So, wanting to contribute a little today, I did my own part and made sure that I was in a calm state of mind to answer the questions I knew were coming from the LPS agent. I had even tidied up my room and ensured with Nancy that my sheets reflected a more juvenile style than I might have been used to. We had selected them together, and despite the fact that princess motifs on the bedspread weren’t ideal, I knew it could be much worse. Then, Nancy and I froze as we heard the doorbell ring. Nancy breathed in and exhaled loudly. “Okay, Emily. Just take one step at a time and don’t panic. Just as we rehearsed, okay?” I nodded silently and braced for the agent’s entrance myself. Nancy and I had been worried about our little balancing scheme between me keeping my freedom within the house and being a Little outside of it. Today, those two worlds would be colliding, but I knew that if we were able to pass this inspection, things would be much smoother in the future. Nancy then opened the door with all her might and sported a wide, friendly smile. “Hello there! Come on in!” The monochromatically dressed agent walked in and her eyes immediately began to dart around the room. She then pulled out her badge and flipped it open so we could see the shiny ID and metal badge within. “Agent Vanessa Dawson. LPS. I’m here to conduct a Little and caregiver inspection today. Do you consent to my search of your house?” I swear she must have had Botox or something because her whole face, beyond her mouth hadn’t moved so much as an inch in that entire time she was talking. Nancy, likely sensing the seriousness of the new agent, nodded resolutely. “I consent.” The agent nodded back herself and popped open her tablet to a page where Nancy would need to sign. After she did, it was then my turn and I handed the heavy tablet back to Agent Dawson with Nancy’s help once I scrawled my own signature at the bottom of the form. Agent Dawson reviewed the file and looked over it carefully before moving her screen to a different page. She then stared back up with her still undiscerning face. “Now that’s all settled, I will begin my investigation. You may join me if you wish, but absolutely no talking when we first enter a room. You may once I give you the signal to do so.” She then looked directly at me. “That goes for you too. So, do you both understand?” We both nodded and while Nancy went off with her during the inspection, I elected to stay downstairs and read a few books Nancy had purchased for me. A lot of them were above the usual Little’s reading level, but we had hidden those away for today. Instead, I perused through a few of the others directed more towards Big children. Simple still, but there was at least more than a single basic sentence on each page. I soon became engrossed in the book of the tiny beaver, but not thirty minutes later, Nancy and Agent Dawson returned from the inspection upstairs. “Oh yes, we have a nighttime routine,” Nancy continued. “Most of the times it’s the usual fair, but I’ve also included reading to her at night as well.” Both then noticed me with the open book in my lap. “As you can see, she’s quite the reader.” “I see… very interesting…” was about all Agent Dawson said then or any of the other times I overheard her respond to something that Nancy had just said. I could feel the desperation practically ooze off Nancy that all this would go well and a search of Agent Dawson’s facial features to confirm that. To her growing annoyance though, I could tell she saw that the agent wasn’t going to break for her today. The two walked around a little more and Agent Dawson even made some embarrassing comments about the potty chair that Nancy had set up for me in the downstairs bathroom. It was purple and decorated with fairies, but I honestly didn’t mind this one. I suppose it might have had something to do with the fact that I had few other options around here or wasn’t forced to use it like with Kathy, but it was more likely the fact that I could actually sit on it without help as compared to a normal-sized Big toilet, and that Nancy wouldn’t watch me like Kathy had started to do in the end. The two kept talking, but finally came back into the room where both then looked at me. Agent Dawson spoke first. “Emily. I need to ask you some questions and then I should be on my way, okay?” “It will be okay, Emily,” Nancy reassured me. So, feeling the tiny confidence that Nancy had instilled in me, I nodded. Agent Dawson then smiled and sat in front of me, and Nancy went outside to wait on the back porch as per protocol. “Now then…” Agent Dawson reviewed her notes a little more. “Let’s just get to these. No pressure whatever your answer, but just tell me the truth, understand?” I nodded. “Good. First, are you fed enough here?” The question was straight forward, but I had to think about it for a moment. “Uh, I think so. Definitely more than I was at the foster home though.” Agent Dawson and scribbled out some notes. “Are you satisfied in your current living situation?” The question was a little harder, but I also knew what I should say, or at least not say. Any hesitation or bumbling around my answer could be viewed as either me lying to her or trying to cover up something else more nefarious. So, I answered about as quickly as my mind could register the question. “Yes. It’s very nice here compared to the foster home.” Again, Agent Dawson nodded and took some more notes. “Are you abused?” I knew this question was coming and I found out later was the main reason that the Little and potential caregiver had to be separated during the questionnaire portion of the inspection. Knowing this question was the biggie of the lot, I responded right away once again. “Absolutely not. Quite the opposite with Nancy actually.” I swore I could see the tiniest hint of a satisfied smirk appear on Agent’s Dawson’s face, but she nodded and only continued to write her own notes down. “Okay, lastly, do you have a favorite thing to do here?” “Hmmm…” I felt this question was a little more to try and end on a positive note with Littles, just to associate the agent with pleasant associations with their visits, instead of the dread that both Nancy and I had been feeling beforehand. In this case, though, what should have been an easy question was actually a little hard. I wanted to say being free to do what I want and not dictated to like I was a mentally regressed Little, but that would have broken everything that Nancy and I were trying to accomplish here with my secretive double life. It wasn’t exactly illegal to be a mentally older Little, but it may have been frowned on by some and could just lead to more issues down the road. So, instead, I just answered the most obvious way I could. “I like being able to read here. It let’s my mind wander and my imagination feel free.” I wasn’t sure if that was completely the answer that Agent Dawson was looking for from the expression on her face afterward, but it had the benefit of being both true and an answer I knew she really couldn’t object to. Then, after scribbling her last note, we both stood up. Nancy saw from outside and re-entered. “So, did everything go well?” Agent Dawson sighed, and I think both Nancy and I held our breaths in tense nervousness. “I think so. I’ll need to file all this paperwork officially, but I can say that there at least weren’t any red flags I noticed today.” Both Nancy and I exhaled loudly. “I’m very glad to hear that,” Nancy said finally. She and Agent Dawson talked a little bit more, but I knew I needed to take the time and get ready for daycare. Nancy and I had elected for an early morning inspection today to interfere the least amount possible with Nancy’s job. Apparently, she still had to miss her morning meeting, but we could both continue with our days as if nothing much had happened if we still left within the next 15 minutes. For Nancy, that meant more board meetings and pitch formations for future projects of her company. For me, that meant Little Friends Daycare. As Nancy finally ended her conversation with Agent Dawson and we both then loaded into the car, I couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive of what today could hold for me. I can fully admit to the fact that I might have jumped into Nancy’s embrace a little too quickly, but it was to get away from Kathy. I thought she was the worst it could get for a Little here and eventually lead me to just some thumb-sucking drooler of a Little without a hope in ever going back home. I was wrong. At daycare, while the rainbow façade was pleasant and the staff were all kind and caring in their own ways, I hadn’t anticipated the interaction with other Littles that I would face. As the daycare was fully staffed and did not need a reader, plus my ‘covert’ sneaking around with Nancy, meant that the one constant distinguishing factor between me and the other Littles of reading aloud during story time, was no more. At first, it wasn’t so bad. Most of the Littles left me alone and there was a plethora of books, but I was the new Little around here and some of the more regressed Littles, who bordered on if they should be placed in the Canopy room or in the younger Meadows room, didn’t seem to fully understand the concept of the word ‘no.’ I was quickly learning though, that my ‘no’ and their ‘no,’ were two very different things. “Pway wif me?” one of the Littles asked, toddling up to me today after I had settled in and was reading another book by myself. “No,” I said firmly, but the Little just wouldn’t leave. I tried to ignore them, but I saw the Little then began to pout. “Pwease? I wanna pway wiff you...” “I said no,” I repeated a little louder… too loud, I guess. “Emily!” Miss Valerie admonished me. “We use our inside voices around here.” I nodded and sighed. “Yes Miss Valerie.” I then looked back to the Little in front of me. “Please, kid. I just said no. Go play with that stuffed parrot over there or some other toy like that, or even just another Little for that matter. Just… not me, okay?” The Little nodded and toddled off, clearly dejected, but seemingly fine. I guess they weren’t though, as not five minutes later, I saw them crying and pointing over to me. ‘That little snitch!’ I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong except to say ‘no,’ but those were Earth rules for fellow adults. Being in daycare as a Little, I was finding out just how much the rules around here could be different. Soon, Mrs. Carter marched over to me with her hands on her hips. “Young lady,” she began sternly, glaring down at me from high above. Nervous from her tone and demeanor already, I slowly placed my book down and peered back up at her. “Yes, Mrs. Carter? Is there something wrong?” I tried to play innocent victim as much as I could. From her face though, I don’t exactly think Mrs. Carter bought it. “Don’t play the fool around here, missy,” she nearly spat down to me. “It would do well that if you want to play that angle, I suggest you stop reading the books meant more for the staff than for you Littles.” I glanced down at the book, and I guess Histories of Atlantis to Atlantica would have been a little advanced for most Littles around here. “Sorry…” I then looked back over at the now sniffling Little being rocked around by Miss Valerie. “I just didn’t want to play with them today. I might be a Little, but I’m not that type of Little.” Mrs. Carter frowned. “Just watch out. You’re on thin ice already around here. I would hate for Mrs. Gillies to find out anything more that you’ve done wrong.” I gulped instinctively as Mrs. Carter walked away. Mrs. Gillies was in charge of the whole daycare, and while she would probably do anything to protect her Littles, I also got the distinct impression that she wasn’t the type to be lenient with troublemakers. Despite just wanting to live out my time here until I was going home in one piece, I guess that meant me. A few days later, my reputation hadn’t improved any around here with the staff. Most knew that I was just biding my time until I went home from a slip-up that Nancy made, but I felt a few were giving me odd looks as well. I just chalked it up to them trying to figure out if I was scheming something or going to be problematic for the day, but I guess I should have been a little more careful. I mean, it wasn’t exactly my fault. Being an adult woman, I was coming from Earth here and without any regression procedures or hypnosis done on me, so I was still very independent and thought of myself as an adult. A Little here for sure, but more of the type of classification that on Earth I would be known as a human woman. Not an insult or a judgement on my mental capacity, but just who I was. Looking around even now, there were many types of Littles, but something told me that the staff mostly just lumped us all together. In the Canopy room, most of us were fairly mature and I reveled in being one of the most mature, but that also came at a cost. While for most of the day, I could just lounge about and read to my heart’s content. Playtime and mealtime though in this room, were a different matter. First, I did not want to play dolls or drink at some stupid tea party. That was for babies straight up and I didn’t even entertain the idea. Mrs. Carter and Miss Valerie tried to convince me otherwise and to be a ‘team player,’ but I didn’t want to do some things and I felt I shouldn’t be forced either. So, I was placed further on their ‘problematic Littles’ list, but mealtime was worse. Having been privy to many of the secrets behind the scenes at Mrs. Tatum’s foster home when I helped her out, I knew what a lot of what they were serving was here. The nuggets had the laxative, the milk was just… weird, and the milosauce could be disastrous for any fully unprotected and unsuspecting Little. Some of those issues I had come by literally just reading the labels on the packages, but other times… I’ll just say that I was very grateful that I practically had a bathroom to myself in that foster home. Regardless, I often refused to eat what I was given here for lunch or snack time. Sometimes, some of the kinder workers would notice my plight and would give me something else, but others were more insistent I stick to what the other Littles were given. Mrs. Carter was the more insistent type. “I don’t care what you think you know. Nancy has put us in charge of you during the day, so what we say, goes. Understand, Emily?” I looked at the revolting mush cup before me. I guessed it was an array of fruits mashed up into a plastic cup, similar to milosauce, but I couldn’t be sure. The milosauce was kind of a tannish yellow, but this… I just saw mixtures of brown, red, and purple. “Please… just anything else…” “No,” Mrs. Carter reiterated adamantly. “You either eat this, or we tie a bib around you, I feed it to you personally, and then we tell Nancy when she gets here to pick you up that you were naughty today. How’s that sound?” Her threats were not hollow, and despite Nancy and I being more of equals in about the biggest way we could in our arrangement, I didn’t want her getting a negative report back. She would probably lecture me on me blowing my cover here and that I would get sent back to Mrs. Tatum’s and she would be in trouble with the LPS. Not desiring that fate for either of us, I spooned the alien looking mush and shoveled it into my mouth. I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting, but a myriad of flavors soon assaulted my tongue. Combine cod, rutabaga, raspberries, and maybe spinach or cucumber, and you might just begin to know what I was tasting right then. Seeing Mrs. Carter’s smug smile and anticipating look though, I swallowed it whole. I had to fight my gag reflex about as best I could, but it stayed down. Mrs. Carter’s smile grew, and she then leaned down. “Good girl,” she whispered, “very good girl.” It took all I had to not slug the woman right there for her condescending tone, but she walked off and I continued to down the revolting goop in front of me. Five minutes later, it was empty, and I felt nauseous, but I was allowed to leave the table at least. Not thirty minutes later, however, my suspicions about the mush were proven correct. My guts had been rumbling since I had sat down to read my book. I just wanted to focus on the prince slaughtering the dragon in that particular story, but my stomach, and later bowels, had other ideas. I tried to pass it off as maybe just gas, but right about at that thirty-minute mark, I could quickly feel that it was so much more dangerous. Seeing all the padded rear ends around me, I knew just what was at stake, so I put my book down, to ensure it wouldn’t be ruined from being tossed and that I would be punished as a result, and walked over to the bathroom as gingerly as I could. Now, being that it was the Canopy room, the bathroom adjoining the play area was actually both Big and Little-sized. I wasn’t sure how many Littles were actually making it or even using the potties there, but another grumble from my rear left me little time to contemplate such mysteries in this place. So, I made it over to one of the stalls there, conveniently, a little lower to the ground to ensure privacy, and I let loose. It was terrible and the smell could probably kill some species with any degree of breathing issues, but still though, I had made it. I was erupting hot magma, but I had made it. Unfortunately, even as I washed my hands and exited triumphantly, my success was to be short lived. There, Mrs. Carter was waiting for me sporting yet another scowl etched across her face. “That’s one,” she warned me. “You wait for one of us to take you. You know that.” Feeling put in my place and not wanting to cause a further scene, I nodded. “I’m sorry…” Mrs. Carter grumbled but walked off and left me feeling an odd mix of emotions. I had made it to the potty, a feat that I was noticing from all the crying, that others had not managed themselves. Those donning training pants or panties seemed mortified, but those already in pull-ups seemed devastated. Considering the removal of their name from the pasted tree of Littles in this room in the back corner afterward, it wasn’t hard to deduce that the staff had demoted them both down to the Meadows room and to diapers. Despite my first strike of the day, I knew it could have been worse. And the day continued much like that. The Canopy rules might have been a little more restrictive, but I also knew that we didn’t have naptime like the other rooms in this daycare did. Most of the time, that meant were able to go outside. I wasn’t much for the mud out there sometimes, but the pleasant breezes and sunshine was always a welcome relief. Today though, it was raining, which meant that I was able to stay inside, but that also presented me with a looming problem. Despite the catalog of books in here that weren’t childish, many also seemed to contain propaganda that would always insinuate Littles as hapless and defenseless beings that needed to be cared for. Knowing some of my fellow Littles here, it was an accurate statement for them, but not for everyone… including me. So today, I realized that I had run out of books to read that fit my selection criteria of avoiding both types of books. I mulled about, but when I realized that only left me more open to being begged to join in playing with the other Littles here, I tried to figure out another solution. Just as I was about to read Knowing the Signs Your Little Is Ready, a clear front to eventually get Bigs to demote their Littles back to diapers, I remembered the front lobby had a stack of magazines for awaiting caregivers. I knew it could be a little risky getting to them, but I rationalized that I would just be staying inside the building, so no harm done… right? Having already memorized the patterns of everyone around here when I was bored last week, it didn’t take me long to have realized there was a gap in the staff’s monitoring of the room’s main door, particularly on days where Littles didn’t get the opportunity to burn off their excess energy due to bad weather. “No Timmy! Don’t eat that!” “Put those scissors down Brian!” “That’s not a potty Sabrina!” Smiling a little at my fellow Littles perfect unintended distractions, I knew that it was just possible that both Mrs. Carter and Miss Valerie would even know that I was gone. Sensing my time had come, I quickly slipped out the door and ran down the hallway to the front lobby. Izzy was once again on her lunch break, and I was just tall enough to undo the latch of the front gate to the lobby. In seconds, I was staring at the rack of magazines. “Oh, perfect!” I exclaimed, picking up a magazine that almost looked like the ones I read back home. I knew I probably couldn’t get any nail polish advertised on the front cover from Nancy, but I also saw that there was a whole travel section in the back. “Hmmm… might be inter…” “And just what do you think you’re doing?” I heard a voice thunder. I nearly dropped the magazine on the ground as I spun around to face the voice. There, standing before me and mad as I had ever seen her, was Mrs. Gillies. It didn’t take a genius to realize how badly I had screwed up. “I asked you a question, Emily…” she said impatiently. “Uh, I…” I stammered out. Her sheer size nearly blocking the rainbow-painted wall behind her was enough to cower any Little, let alone just me all alone and doing something I knew I probably shouldn’t have. “I just wanted to, uh… read. I didn’t even leave the building or anything… I just wanted to see and to learn and to…” Mrs. Gillies snapped her hand up to stop me. “Stop. Just stop, Emily.” She shook her head in clear disappointment. “I thought I could trust you as one of the older Littles here, or at least a Little that the others could look up to. I mean, what would the others think if they saw you up here? Don’t you think they would want to follow?” I hadn’t actually thought about that, but Mrs. Gillies only pushed the issue further. “And what if the door had been unlocked. We get packages in here all the time and mistakes happen. So, what if one of your followers escaped and were kidnapped? Or what if they got hit by a car out there?” Her voice thundered now and yet contained a note of sadness over all of it. She was right of course, but I felt I needed to defend myself. “But no one followed me. It’s just a book, Mrs. Gillies…” I tried to offer up as a counterpoint to her argument. I don’t think it worked. Mrs. Gillies shook her head. “Unbelievable… I thought… hoped you would be different here, Emily. I guess I was wrong…” For a moment, I thought she was just going to walk away in disappointment. No doubt Nancy would have gotten a report about my single, now likely double strike, and I would be yelled at when I got home, but I felt pretty safe that I was still fine. Mrs. Gillies, it seemed, had other plans. In a second, she launched herself back over to me, hands first. I had barely enough time to put the magazine down when her hands scooped around my torso. I wasn’t a shorty back home by any measure, but Mrs. Gillies lifted me up like I was just some featherweight pillow into the crook of her arm. “Put me down!” I squawked at my captor. “It was just a magazine. Let me go!” I began to struggle and despite my best effort, Mrs. Gillies only hauled me further back into the main area of the daycare. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the hint that I would be going straight to the back of the daycare, where other naughty Littles went, whether I wanted to or not. So, when I began thrashing about and kicking wildly, I didn’t think of the consequences… or where my legs were kicking. In a second, my leg hit a large lamp, which then toppled over and pulled the phone sitting next to it to the ground. In less than a blink of an eye, the phone practically exploded into several tiny pieces, the lamp cracked, and the lamp shade was permanently ruined. In horror, I stopped kicking, but Mrs. Gillies halted and looked back at the now broken lamp and phone on the ground before sighing. “I guess I was very wrong about you Emily… shame too…” She paused, looked down at the shattered objects on the floor, and then turned around. “That’s two and three…” My heart practically stopped, and my body went limp. Now that my brain wasn’t simply lashing out and being hauled away, I knew strike two meant that I was going to the backroom. Other Littles that had been punished for one discretion or another went back there and would come out minutes later filled with tears and, more often than not, a sore rear end. I was dreading that, but something was different about the Littles that got to strike three. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but they had definitely changed somehow. Passing by one of the ugliest stuffed dogs I think I had ever seen in front of a near drooling Little, Mrs. Gillies finally stopped after passing through the Canopy room where several of the Littles had ‘oohed’ like they were in elementary school… appropriate I suppose. She then went through another door that only the staff used and found Miss Valerie sitting and eating a candy bar. She immediately bolted to attention once she saw Mrs. Gillies. Her face was full of panic. “Mrs. Gillies. I, uh, I swear, I was on my break and…” Mrs. Gillies held her hand up like she did to me to stop Miss Valerie. “Easy there. I don’t mind you taking a break. Today would have been recess if it wasn’t for the waterworks opening everywhere outside today. I know how these rooms can get on days like today and breaks are actually a little encouraged for you all to destress a little. Which is why,” she then peered over at me, and Miss Valerie spotted me as well, “I want you to take Emily here into the back room and then to meet Bee. For now, I will help out Mrs. Carter in the Canopy room.” Miss Valerie seemed stunned for a moment, but after swallowing what I could imagine was a little piece of candy still in her mouth, she nodded. Mrs. Gillies set me on the floor and Miss Valerie held her hand out. “Please take my hand, sweetie.” I could only gulp, comply, and then look back as Mrs. Gillies waved goodbye to me with a giant grin as if she knew something I didn’t about what awaited me next. Stunned and unnerved by everything, I almost wanted to bite Miss Valerie’s hand in desperation and then flee as best I could to a safe zone far away. Passing through a heavy door into what only could be described as a cutesy dungeon of sorts, I quickly decided not to. “Okay, sweetie. This is your first time here. I hope there isn’t another time, but I guess that will just be up to you.” She then gestured to a bench of sorts with padding on the top. “Take seat, chest on the top and bend over. Once you’re situated, don’t move an inch.” Instantly, I knew my fate. It was a little more elaborate than what Kathy had done with me, but I knew the preparation for a spanking by now when I saw it. So, not wanting to make my fate even worse, I just complied as quickly as I could. Behind me, Miss Valerie proceeded to nearly fondle a whole bunch of implements hanging off a rack, but finally chose the ping pong paddle and walked back over to me. “Not very traditional I grant you in some of these cases, but I think it will do the trick for today.” Seeing the large red surface, I just winced and hoped that all this would be over soon. “Okay. Seeing what you have next… I guess just 10 will do today…” she said, rubbing the paddle and then gliding it over my butt. I shut my eyes about as tight as they would go after that. I still trembled in fear, but it only got worse, when she suddenly hiked up my skirt for the day and then yanked down both my tights and my training panties, today’s pair marked by little, tiny hearts. I could hear Miss Valerie chuckle for a moment, but I didn’t have time to contemplate it for long. The first smack roared into me like a freight train. Kathy was sadistic and strong, but Miss Valerie was clearly practiced and powerful. Each smack I felt seemed like the equivalent to two of what Kathy could produce. I was in tears by the fifth smack. My delicate rear throbbed, and the sheer pain wouldn’t go away by the eighth. Still, after ten, Miss Valerie hung the paddle back up and allowed me the dignity to stay there on the bench for a moment before I then lifted my own tights and training panties back up. Despite my punishment, I vowed right then that I would escape this place no matter what as soon as I could if any of this happened again. Nancy was wonderful, but she wasn’t worth what was now occurring at the daycare. Regardless, Miss Valerie then sighed and popped me out of my own thoughts. “I’m sorry about that, Emily,” she said with an almost odd, noted tone of concern. “I really don’t like doing that, but you need to learn to behave. You should know that Mrs. Gillies always gets her way in the end. One way or another…” I wanted to ask what she meant by that, but she only held her hand out once more and towed me to the next room. I wasn’t sure what to expect after the pink and purple room I had just come from, but a medical lab with spots of color and toys was not it. A woman sitting down at the far end of some lab equipment then looked up and placed her glasses on the table in front of her. She quickly saw me being dragged along. “A new girl, Val?” Miss Valerie nodded. “That’s right, Bee. Just a single dose though today, okay? Mrs. Gillies doesn’t want her overdone. Just needs to learn a lesson… got it?” Bee got up and rolled her eyes a little. “I got it, I got it, okay? I’m sure… Emilly and I will get a long just fine. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” I was petrified of the room and of this new woman already as I was being introduced to her, but my mind swam with tons of other questions… namely, how did she know my name? I could hear Miss Valerie sigh again and she then pulled me across the room and got me to sit in a large, padded seat. “Just rest your arm there, sweetie,” she said dejectedly while pointing to the arm rest by my left arm. I quickly complied, still feeling the enormous sting from the spanking I had just endured. I thought that if I complied, I wouldn’t be punished anymore. Making a few clinking noises, I saw that Bee started to prepare something that I couldn’t quite make out. “Is it in place and are we doing the standard first time?” she then asked. Miss Valerie sighed yet again. “Yes… standard and in place.” “Good…” Bee said a little too sinisterly for my liking, but before I had a chance to ask, straps quickly popped out and cinched themselves around my chest, arms, and legs. “Hey! What the hell are you all doing?” I asked in protest, struggling in vain to get loose. “Ooh. Naughty, naughty,” Bee chided me. She then turned around and my eyes bulged out when I saw the shot that she was now carrying back to me. “We’ll fix that right away though… won’t we, Val?” Miss Valerie seemed to be in pain herself and numbly nodded. “You take care of things here… I’ll be… outside.” She then got up and left me alone with Bee. Despite her having just spanked me, I already missed her… or at least compared to the evil doctor-looking woman now approaching me with a giant needle. “Okay!” she said way too cheerfully. “Just one prick and it will all be over.” I tried to struggle, but the straps were too tight. Unfortunately, the ones on my arm were even tighter and the extra straps employed held my upper arm completely in place. I couldn’t even wiggle it more than a millimeter I suspected. The needle plunged quicky into my arm and I swore with the force Bee used, the darn thing would have gone right through. Instead, I just felt the hot liquid enter my arms and quickly get pumped around my body. It was a foreign invader and it burned wherever it went. Oddly though, after a moment, the burning feeling went away, and I was almost left with a buzzing sensation, like the kind you would feel when you were drunk. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, and I felt almost a whiplash of sorts going from such pain to such pleasure so soon after. Bee smiled down on me. “Perfect. I can already see that it’s working. Shame it’s not more today but considering where you just came from and a few other little secrets I know, I’m pretty sure you’ll be back. Too bad you won’t remember though!” She then cackled a little as she got up and started bringing over another device. “What do you mea…?” but that was about all that I could make out. The buzzing sensation increased, and Bee quickly swung the large machine and a monitor in front of my face. I didn’t think much of it at first, but with each passing moment, I felt more drawn into the center of the pretty colors I started to see… more focused… more sleepy… happier even… I swore I even heard a tinkling noise as my eyes began to droop. I was almost a little scared, but at the same time, I had oddly never felt better and even the stinging in my rear had dissipated. It was nearly pure bliss. I wanted it to last forever, but my exhaustion ruled me more than anything else. Soon, my eyes shuttered close and everything faded to black. * * * My eyes bolted open. ‘Wha…? Where am I?’ My mind turned over and tried to put the pieces of afternoon back into place. Other Littles were just waking up that had taken impromptu naps as well I guessed as myself, but a few also seemed they would be demoted down to something more protective at night. Panicking, my hands shot between my legs, but I sighed in relief. ‘Dry… that’s good at least… Nancy would have been so upset with me over ruining my pretty training panties.’ I smiled at the sensation of being so much older than all these other babies. I could read and write and go to the potty by myself. I was a big gir… I shook my head. I guess I was still just coming out of my post nap slumber and was a little foggy. My arm hurt a bit and my butt definitely stung, but it was just kind of hard to figure out why. It strangely felt like a hangover when I used to drink… ‘When I was a teacher? Was I a teacher?’ I shook my head again and just hoped that my fuzziness would go away soon. It was super frustrating. I guess to some extent, a little later though, it kind of did. To be blunt, I was a little more distracted by then with some of the looks that other Littles or staff were giving me, but I just shuffled it off as both of them being weird in this funny place. I mean, they even had birds in all those lush tree branches all above me. I gazed in wonder and at all the beautiful colors up there. I was so engrossed though, that a book soon slid off my lap. Curious and not remembering the ending, I reopened it. Fascinated with the tale in moments, I just buried my head in a book and just really hoped that the prince would be okay and make it back to his castle and his one true love. ‘It’s so romantic!’ I never read the ending though, as right when he slayed the scary monster, Miss Valerie called out my name. “Emily? Emily?” She then spotted me and smiled. “There you are!” Her arms then waved me over. “Come on! Nancy is here for you out front!” I smiled widely and placed the book back where all the others were neatly stacked. I then made sure to gather up my bag and I was so giddy with excitement, I nearly skipped to the front lobby. It was all so easy and wonderful, and as a bonus, Miss Valerie was so nice to me. I mean, she even held the lobby gate open for me and gave a glowing report back to Nancy about the type of day I had. I was a little glad about that too because some of it still seemed a bit hazy, but I was just so proud of the good day I apparently had here. Nancy strangely seemed to give me an odd look of sorts after, but in the end, I was just happy that we were going home now. As a cherry on top, Mrs. Gillies even stepped out and noted my growing progress here at the daycare, which definitely elicited a smile from Nancy this time, much to my delight. ‘I wonder if I’ll get some ice cream tonight as a treat?’ I still felt a little strange, but if Mrs. Gillies, Miss Valerie, and Nancy were all happy, then I just supposed that everything was good. After all, if they cared about me, then all was good, and their happiness would be mine and I would be safe from all the evils of this world.

The ride to Crystal’s was both exhilarating and terrifying for Danny. While they hadn’t ended things on bad terms by any means, he still couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that this was all moving too fast. It was bound to fall apart eventually…right? He twiddled his fingers about in the back seat of Crystal’s car as he tried to remind himself that it was largely Crystal’s idea originally, but that didn’t change that it had been over 5 months. He just wasn’t quite sure how it was all going to mend back together. “Are you excited?” Crystal asked, breaking the silence of the last bit of the drive before putting the car into park as she pulled into her driveway. Danny nervously nodded his head, staring out at the familiar home as he got out of the car, following Crystal into her house. To Danny, almost nothing had changed. Everything seemed to be exactly as he left it. Pictures and decor lined the hallway, while the same fake plants covered the entryway table as the same yellowish light flooded the hallway. Crystal wasted no time as she slipped her shoes off, making her way down the hall as Danny quickly did the same. Danny hurried after her down the hall as she stopped at the door to his old nursery before Crystal stepped inside. Danny hesitantly followed after, feeling his nervous stomach twist about as he took a deep breath before stepping inside, ultimately finding it nearly identical to how he had left it. “I feel it's only fair to tell you that I also saw someone else,” Crystal said suddenly, breaking the silence. “It was pretty brief, but it happened,” “Oh,” Danny said, unsure of what to say as he tried not to let himself feel bad about it. Afterall, he had left. “Was he, uh-” “Yes, sweetie. He was a little guy just like you,” She chuckled. “Things were going nicely online, but once we met in person it only lasted a weekend,” Danny nodded, not sure what else to say, if anything. It wasn’t like he was allowed to be mad or anything and truthfully he wasn’t. If anything, he was just curious about who this other person was, but knowing Crystal that was about as much information as he was going to get. “Right, well,” Crystal started, walking towards the door as if she had concluded everything she had to say. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting guests, so I’m going to leave you to it as I have some other things I wanted to accomplish tonight. In the morning we are going to your old apartment to grab your things, and once we return we can get you settled in. It's…7:23pm,” She said, glancing at a clock on the wall. “Which means this is your 24 hour notice to comply with the rules,” Danny nodded as he felt his cheeks blush as he tried to remember what they all were as it had been a long time since he thought about any of them. “I trust you remember where most things are? I’ll grab you a towel and toothbrush and set them out in the bathroom so you can get cleaned up,” Crystal said, turning the corner through the doorway as she took off down the hall. Danny stood in place as he slowly spun about, examining his old room. It felt weird to be back in his old nursery. A place he had told himself he wouldn’t miss when he moved out, but now felt the full effects of its warm, inviting sense of solitude. ~~ Crystal had abruptly awoken Danny rather early in the morning, unsurprised to have found him coddling an old favorite stuffed animal of his with his phone laid out beside him, obviously having fallen asleep watching a video of some type. Crystal had moved quickly, shoving a piece of peanut butter toast in his face as he pulled his clothes on before being rushed out the door and into the car as she took off down the street towards his old apartment. Crystal forcefully knocked on the door as she waited for a response. “Do you still have your keys?” “Uh-” Danny said, slowly pulling them out of his pocket. “I don’t think-” Crystal snatched them out of his hand, unlocking the door as she barged her way inside, dropping the small pile of reusable grocery bags she brought on the floor before taking a quick look around. “Mo-” Danny started, not knowing if Kelsey was home before she came running around the corner. “What the hell!” She shouted. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!” Crystal stayed calm, brushing past her and making her way into the living room. “We’re just here to get Danny’s things, and then were gone,” “Danny doesn’t fucking live here!” Kelsey screamed, watching Crystal start to pull some of the games out of the TV stand and stuff them in a bag. “His name is on the lease, isn’t it?” Crystal said calmly, unphased by her yelling. Kelsey scoffed as she turned to Danny who was still awkwardly standing by the door. “Get your freaky aunt or whatever the fuck out of my apartment!” Danny stood quietly before reaching for a bag on the floor. “I just want to get my stuff…” He said sheepishly, not having expected Crystal to barge her way inside, but knew there was no turning back. “Ugh! You’re the fucking worst!” She shouted, turning around to see Crystal pulling the PS5 off the TV stand. “Hey! That's mine!” She shouted. “Right…” Crystal started, turning it over to reveal a sticker on one side of a small blue dog peeking over the edge. “I suppose this sticker is too then?” “What? Yea, the PS5 is mine,” Kelsey said stupidly, unsure what Crystal could possibly be implying. “Okay, dear. If you really believe that, I think you’ll need to call the police to help us work out what is your’s and what is Danny’s,” Crystal said, carefully placing the PS5 in a bag before tossing the controllers in as well. “Ye- Yea! Maybe I will call the police!” Kelsey yelled. Crystal continued on, grabbing anything she knew was Danny’s as she made her way through the living room. “I encourage it,” She said calmly without acknowledging Kelsey with a look. “Ugh!” Kelsey yelled before storming off into the bedroom where Danny was quietly stuffing his clothes into bags. “You’ve got thirty minutes and then I’m calling the police!” Danny felt himself becoming overwhelmed, not wanting to deal with Kelsey’s anger as he tried to shove the last of his clothes into the already overflowing bags. “You- could help?” He said quietly, lifting the bags as he carried them to the living room. “I’m not going to help you steal from me!” Kelsey shouted, pulling out her phone as she started to desperately text her friends. “Is that everything from the room?” Crystal asked, taking a quick peek through the kitchen. “I think so…” Danny said, trying to remember what all he actually needed. “Why don’t you go through the bathroom, I’ll take another peek at the bedroom,” Crystal said, grabbing one of the last empty bags as she made her way down the hall, finding Kelsey criss-cross on the bed as her fingers rapidly typed away. “This is completely unacceptable,” Kelsey yelled as Crystal slowly meandered throughout the room looking for familiar items. “You know you can’t just storm into someone's house and steal their shit!?” “It's actually the normal thing to do after a breakup. At least leave the man with his things? You already took his dignity,” Crystal said, grabbing a few items out of the night stand. Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Who even are you?” “Someone who loves and cares about him. Which obviously isn’t you anymore,” Crystal said bluntly, heading out of the room, bumping into Danny as he came out of the bathroom. “Is that everything?” Danny took a minute to look around, quickly sifting through bags before giving one more quick walk through the apartment. “That's all of it,” He said softly, grabbing a couple of bags as he headed out towards the car. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Crystal called out sarcastically to Kelsey who was still hiding in the bedroom, carrying the last of the bags out the door before shutting it behind her. Crystal could tell that the whole experience had let Danny a little off kilter. He’d never handled crowds or loud noises well, and an ex-girlfriend screaming at you was definitely something that could be added to that list, but it was nothing that a quick stop at Elmer’s couldn’t fix. Danny’s anxiety eased up as he plowed down his massive portion of food, filling his stomach to the point of bloating before continuing their return trip home. “Do you think you’ll need the full 24 hours to comply?” Crystal asked as she merged onto the freeway, breaking the silence as she sent butterflies through Danny’s stomach as he tried not to let his stomach suddenly explode. “I’m planning on dropping you off before running a few errands, but I was hoping that maybe when I returned…” She said, turning towards Danny who was happily nodding. “Perfect,” She said. “Do you need a refresher?” Danny blushed as he tried to remember everything, ultimately nodding his head just to make sure. “Oh, come on. I bet you know some of them. How about I help you?” Crystal said playfully. “What's the first one?” “Diapers,” Danny said softly as he blushed. “Speak up, sweety,” She said with a grin. “Diapers!” He shouted with more energy than she expected. They both let out a laugh as they looked at each other for a brief second before continuing. “When do you wear them?” Crystal asked. “Always,” Danny said confidently. “And you call me?” “Mommy!” Danny shouted again. “And who decides when your diapers need a change?” “Mommy does!” Danny said excitedly. “And you are?” Crystal asked. “Mommy’s baby,” “Which means….” Crystal said, waiting for Danny to fill in. “I should talk, act and eat like one,” Danny said sheepishly with a bright red face. “And what do you do when Mommy isn’t home?” “Clean!” Danny said, feeling proud of himself that he remembered all of it. “Does Mommy tolerate trouble makers?” Crystal asked. Danny shook his head. “Good job!” Crystal cooed. Did you enjoy the story? 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Chapter 2 Ai sighed as she rested her head lazily on her hand, she absently suckled on the large pacifier clipped onto the collar of her outfit, a deliberately childish light purple romper decorated with cartoonish owls and a skirt short enough to show the snapping crotch and the diaper underneath. She was looking through a one-way mirror, and on the other side a strange scene was playing out. One that most people would find exceptionally odd, but that Ai found frustratingly familiar. What could only be described as an adult baby was happily playing with some toys in the center of a large playpen with a floor made of soft foam mats. He was wearing light blue shortalls over a purple onesie and was currently engaged in a very fruitful discussion between a stuffed unicorn and bear, though the words weren’t exactly words. “Gab gab go lok,” he said with a playful frown, forming the words of the unicorn talking to the bear. “Very good Harold,” a man sitting in a rocking chair nearby said thoughtfully. His green shirt, black pants, and white ascot was clearly the male version of the listener outfit. He carefully jotted something down in a notebook. “Fluffy and Sparkles are really going at it today, aren’t they?” he asked playfully. “Bo lock,” Harold replied with a nod. “So, Harold,” the other man looked at a long sheet of paper sitting on a table in the room. “We are looking for a set of three days in the next month where the weather is clear over a …” he paused to look at the paper again. “50 miles radius centered around …” another look at the paper “33.92 degrees south, 18.42 degrees east. Does Fluffy have any insight there?” “Gabo do go resh,” Harold said absentmindedly, almost like he wasn’t even paying attention to what the man was saying. “Hagga do lok besh.” “Very good Harold,” the man said, noting something down on his notepad. Ai raised her head as the slightly and continued watching from her position on the other side of the mirror. Another similarly childish adult, and two other adults in actual adult clothing were in the room with her. Maria and a man dressed similarly to the more mature man in the room on the other side of the mirror were discussing something quietly. Ai and the other speaker sitting toward the front of the room on childish plastic chairs, couldn’t exactly hear them. “I just don’t get it, Kione” Ai pouted petulantly. “How is that any different from what I’ve been doing?” “You just must not be in the right headspace,” Kione answered. She was just as childishly dressed as Ai, wearing a soft pastel pink onesie, with her own pacifier clipped on and a just as obvious diaper. Kione, though, was definitely more comfortable in her juvenile dress. Ai was still pulling at her skirt and shifting uncomfortably at the sensation of the diaper around her waist. “I’m wearing all the stupid outfits,” Ai huffed. “And using these stupid diapers. And everything I’ve eaten lately has been covered in that pink stuff. How am I not in the right headspace?” “It’s more than just the pink stuff, Ai,” Kione shrugged. “That just helps us get there, same with the outfits and diapers.” Kione grabbed a baby bottle and casually started drinking it. “But you have to let go.” “I don’t like it,” Ai sighed heavily. “I know,” Kione sympathized. “It takes time to get there. We all struggled making our first contact, but it gets easier after that.” Kione abruptly got up from her seat. “Come on, let’s see if your listener will let us go back to the playroom now.” Kione offered her hand to Ai. Ai put the pacifier clipped to her onesie in her mouth and grabbed Kione’s hand. The two speakers approached the two listeners talking to each other, and were able to catch the tail end of their conversation. “I’m just concerned, Kenzō,” Maria spoke to the man next to her in a hushed tone. “She’s behind schedule, none of the other speakers have taken this long to make first contact.” “Well,” Kenzō said thoughtfully, “what does Bala say about it?” “Just to keep her regressed,” Maria said unsatisfied. “To give her a constant supply of the pink stuff. Which I’ve been doing but …” “You just need to be patient,” Kenzō said, putting a hand on Maria’s shoulder. “This is probably a big adjustment for her. Every person is different. She just needs more time. You’re doing exactly what Cas Lo Cho Thoth says to do, so you have nothing to worry about.” “Erm, Maria,” Ai asked bashfully, getting her listener’s attention. When the woman looked over, Ai's eyes shot to the ground. Ai had just heard a conversation she wasn’t supposed to. “We were wondering if we could go back to the playroom now?” Kione asked for her bashful friend. “You were supposed to be paying attention, Ai,” Maria gave Ai a stern look. “I was,” Ai protested. “I just don’t know what I can do different.” Ai’s frustration boiled over as she talked. She had been told what she was supposed to do, and she understood it pretty well at this point. It wasn’t that much different than what Maria had explained to her when she arrived, only the trance she mentioned was more accurately described as a certain headspace. As it turned out, the secret to talking with a god was to get adults to act like babies: a completely ridiculous solution to a cosmic problem. Yet none could argue with the results. It worked. When the speakers were childish enough, their playful babble was the deep speak connected to their god. Despite knowing this, Ai couldn’t replicate the feat. No matter how ridiculous her outfit was, how full her diaper was, or how much she acted like a baby, all her babble had been just that: meaningless babble. “I know dear,” Maria sighed. “Come on, let's go back to the playroom.” Maria spun Ai around and playfully patted her diaper to usher her along, eliciting a blush. “I hope we didn’t miss snack time,” Kione said as she and Kenzō followed behind. “Even if you did, I think I can sneak you two some cookies,” Kenzo said with a wink. “Or maybe some of those little mushy muffin cakes?” Kione asked hopefully. “They’ll be pink,” Kenzo said matter of factly. “Ah yeah, I have questions soon,” Kione playfully elbowed Ai. “Yup, got a whole list for you tomorrow,” Kenzō spoke as the two left the room into the maze of hallways. Though it was still a maze, Ai knew by now how to find the play room, and so she and Kione walked out front while the two adults walked behind. “What do I have this time?” Kione asked. “Some stuff about troop movements near Lillikol,” Kenzo said dismissively. “And something about a potential attack by North Sloughtland.” “Jeez, that’s heavy,” Kione sighed. “All Harry gets asked about is the weather. Are you gonna come watch me bab out, Ai?” “I don’t really wanna,” Ai said dejectedly. “It’s just gonna make me feel bad.” Kione gave a pointed look at Kenzō, who passed the look on to Maria. “I’ll see what I can do, sweetie,” Maria said. “I hate making you unhappy.” “Thanks Maria,” Ai said wistfully. The group finally arrived in the play room. It was a room not unlike the one they were just observing, only this one was larger and filled with more speakers. There were several different toy stations in the room: one section had a television where a group of speakers were watching a movie, another had a table with some board games where two speakers were engaging in a trading card game. Of course, there was also a section filled with childish toys like rattles and building blocks, and an oversized baby bouncer and walkers where several speakers were engaged in more juvenile play with each other. “Be back in a moment with those snacks,” Kenzō smiled as Kione and Ai entered the room. “Oh Ai,” Maria said, fetching a bottle out of a pocket in her dress and handing it to her speaker. Ai could see the so-called pink stuff, which would force her into a more childish state of mind. “This needs to be finished by the time I come back.” Ai looked at the bottle, then back at Maria. “I know you don’t like it sweetie, but it’s going to help you make your first contact.” Ai took the bottle, but she clearly wasn’t happy about it. “It’s ok, Ai,” Kione said cheerfully. “Ken’s gonna come back with my pink snack, and we’ll be baby together. I’m sure we’ll build an awesome block tower or something.” The thought did a little to improve Ai’s mood, but not a ton. “Let’s go see if we can steal the TV until then.” “Weren’t you telling me earlier you had never seen Weird Happenings?” Kione took Ai’s hand and walked deeper into the play room. “You haven’t seen Weird Happenings, Ai?” One of the speakers sitting by the television turned around aghast after overhearing the remark. There were two by the tv, only loosely paying attention to the reality show they were watching: Talita and Wendy “Well, not really,” Ai started. “Are you a little too babbed out for a show that heavy?” the speaker filled in for her. “I’m never not too babbed out,” Ai pouted, showing her cloudy bottle. “It’s not fair.” “Maybe a Disney movie then?” the other speaker offered. “Oh, come on Talita!” Wendy complained. “I just got done being babbed out. I don’t really wanna watch a Disney movie.” “Come off it Wendy,” Talita said with her hand on her hip. “We can watch Lilo and Stitch. I know that’s your favorite.” Wendy didn’t say anything, but she gave a look of reluctant acceptance. Every time Ai heard Wendy’s name, she felt a nagging sense of familiarity. Maybe she’d known the girl before they both came here. She’d wondered more than once if she should bring this up to Wendy, but she was worried that might be awkward. They used to be adult women, and now they were stuck being babies. Kione and Ai joined the other two speakers, as Wendy handed the console controller to Talita, who started up the movie before settling into one of the bean bag chairs. “So how have you been adjusting, Ai?” Wendy asked as the movie started. “Terribly!” Ai said with a pout. The other three speakers shared a sympathetic look. “Yeah, the first few months or so are kinda rough,” Talita agreed. “But it gets easier.” “Plus, think of all the cool stuff we’re doing,” Wendy added. “Learning the secrets of the universe and helping the human race.” “I dunno what I would do out there in the real world if I left,” Talita pondered. “I’ve gotten so used to things here. Plus, can you imagine what those old-religion conspiracy theorists would do if they found us.” “It’s still dumb!” Ai interjected. “Why do we all have to be baby? Why is pooping ourselves and babbling like idiots the way to get answers?” “That’s just how it works,” Kione shrugged. “Daddy’s like some kinda eternal cosmic being from beyond the stars or whatever. At least that’s what Ken tells me.” Ai winced a little at the speaker’s nickname for Cas Lo Cho Thoth. She couldn’t deny that it was easier to say in conversation though. She found herself switching to it when she wasn’t thinking about it. “To understand the nature of Cas Lo Cho Thoth is to invite madness into one’s mind,” Wendy parodied some kind of religious figure making an overexaggerated hand motion, which garnered a giggle from Talita. “You nailed the clergy, Wendy. I don’t get how they can be so serious. Cas Lo Cho Thoth this, secret of the universe that. Meanwhile, they got us babies over here doing the real work.” “Takes a bit of the mystique out of it for sure,” Kione giggled. “Speaking of ...,” Wendy blushed and put the pacifier clipped to her romper in her mouth. It was a telltale sign among the speakers, as it helped them get over the mental block of using their diapers. For some, this manifested as a subconscious reflex of sticking their pacifier in their mouth before filling their diapers. Which is exactly what Wendy was about to do. “Oh that’s why she was so fussy,” Talita teased while Wendy’s face was still scrunched up. “Little baby had to make poopies,” she finished in a mocking babyish tone. “Oh hush, Tali,” Wendy pouted and playfully threw a pillow at her, before sitting back down in her seat to keep watching the movie, as if a grown woman filling a diaper was a totally normal occurrence. For the speakers, it was. Given the amount of them that hung out in the playroom most of the time, it was almost guaranteed that there would be at least one smelly speaker, often there were two or three. Most of the speakers had gotten used to it at this point. Ai herself was quickly approaching this as well. After all, her body had its needs, and Maria wasn’t going to let her use the bathroom. It was inevitable that her diaper would end up just as messy as Wendy’s. “I’ve got snacks,” Kenzō sang, approaching the group watching TV. He handed a bag of cookies to Ai and one chocolate snack cake to Kione. Ai could see some pink frosting ooze out of the snack as Kione took a bite. With his speaker now sated, Kenzō finally noticed a familiar smell in the air. “Oh, one of you girls needs a change.” “It’s me,” Wendy sighed with embarrassment. “Come here, let me check.” Kenzō motioned the girl over and she followed with a smile. “Oh Kenzō, I heard from a little bird that your son got into that big firm he was looking at,” Talita said with a smirk. “That’s great news, Kenzō,” Wendy said as Kenzō tugged on the back of her diaper with a finger. “I bet you’re crazy proud.” “I am,” Kenzō beamed. “And you are definitely in need of a change. I’ll let your listener know.” Kenzō sent Wendy back to her seat with a playful squish on her bottom, which elicited a small squeal. “I helped, you know,” Talita said proudly. “You sure did,” Kenzō confirmed. “I really appreciate you going over his drafts like that.” “It’s no big,” Talita shrugged. “It’s nice to know I still got that architect brain kicking up there past all of the baby stuff. Never thought I’d be looking over blueprints in a messy diaper though,” Talita giggled a bit. “It’s quite the contradictory experience.” “I can imagine,” Kione said smiling, her mouth covered in a weird mix of chocolate and pink. “Oh Kione,” Kenzō sighed wiping Kione’s mouth with a napkin. “How about you? Do you need a change?” “I’m just a little wet,” Kione answered, though Kenzō was already pressing against the front of her diaper. “Kione’s soggy,” Wendy teased playfully. “Coming from the mush tush herself,” Kione fired back. “Oooo I can’t wait til you get babbed out on that muffin. You’re going to be so fun.” Kione’s answer was to stick her tongue out. “Got you a bottle too,” Kenzō said, getting back on topic. He handed a bottle to Kione. It was filled with what looked like strawberry milk, though everyone in the room knew it definitely wasn’t strawberry milk. “You got it boss,” Kione confirmed, already nursing the bottle. “You’re a trooper K. And to you other ladies, I hope you enjoy the rest of your movie.” “Bye Ken,” Talita smiled. “Bye Kenzō,” Wendy gave a small wave. “See ya,” Ai answered last, still unsure. Kenzō left the girls alone and they all got back to their normal conversation, as normal as conversation could get in the playroom. Ai, despite arriving a few weeks ago, still hadn’t quite gotten used to things here. What struck her the most was the casualness of it all. For the other speakers, who had lived this life for months and sometimes even years, eating pink stuff that made you act like a toddler was just another Tuesday. For the listeners, changing a grown woman’s diaper was just another mundane task. One of the stranger parts to Ai was how eerily familiar the whole thing seemed to her, though she couldn’t place her finger on why exactly. This place, these rules, these people, even Wendy’s name. They were all so familiar to her, and it all seemed so sinister. She didn’t understand why, and that ate at her. Nobody here was a bad person. There was a genuine connection between the listeners and speakers, and they were all really working toward the greater good. So why was Ai so suspicious about all of this? Why did it all feel wrong to her? What made it even more frustrating was that it was no doubt the source of her inability to make contact with “Daddy.” She couldn’t get into the right headspace while she was constantly on edge, but she couldn’t figure out why she was so on edge because all the pink stuff she was ingesting kept fogging up her brain. Maybe at some point her brain would fog up enough for Ai to lose her anxiety, and then she could really think for once. Despite Ai’s frustrations though, Maria’s words to her continued to prove more and more true. There was nothing keeping her there. She could leave any time she wanted; any speaker could. She didn’t, though. The promise of helping her fellow man, and learning the secrets of the universe, kept her there despite it all. There were no locks on the doors, but Ai stayed nonetheless. “Wendy,” a listener sang over to the group watching the movie, snapping Ai out of her musings. “I heard you might need a diaper change.” “Yeah, she stinky,” Kione giggled in a distinctly juvenile way. “Yes, diaper change please,” Wendy said urgently. “I gotta get back and make fun of Kione while the making’s good.” “I dunno,” the listener pondered over-dramatically. “Maybe you need some time in the bouncer first.” “Marcus,” Wendy whined out her listener’s name to help sell her pout. “Ok ok, come on,” Marcus grabbed Wendy’s hand and the two made their way out of the playroom. Marcus and Wendy walked past another pair of speakers playing a card game over in the gaming area. One of the speakers sat three cards face down on a mat and then dramatically started to flip them up. “I play the Dark Magician,” the speaker flipped over the familiar wizard. “Gia the Fierce Knight,” she flipped over the second card with a galloping horse, though she accidentally flipped it upside down. “and the Reaper of Cards.” The speaker flipped over the final card, a ghoulish specter wielding a scythe true to its name. “That’s not how you play this game at all,” the other speaker complained. "You can’t just summon three times in one turn, and look, Gia is upside down.” The speaker pointed to the card in question. “Let’s just go play Magic if you’re not gonna take this seriously.” The two speakers got up to grab a different card game.

Chapter 11 - First Day Back Avery awoke Monday feeling a deep sense of dread. He rolled over in his bed and hit the snooze button. Sunday, he set the alarm thirty minutes earlier than usual to get a diaper on. He didn’t want to do this, but he felt he had no other choice. The previous Saturday, when the box of diapers arrived, it came in a large brown cardboard box that did not indicate where it came from. Avery opened the box just to make sure it was what he ordered. The diapers were wrapped in a clear plastic seal when he pulled them out. He didn’t open the plastic seal because he felt defeated for even buying them. Instead, he hid them in his closet all weekend. He still felt a deep shame that it had come to this, and he could barely bring himself to look at them. Avery couldn’t ignore the diapers forever, though. He would need to put it on before work no matter how much he wanted to avoid it. No amount of procrastinating could delay the inevitable. He could only imagine how it would feel and look to wear one. How could he hide them from his co-workers? The alarm rang again as he hid under the covers, and the sunlight was just starting to slide through the bedroom window. Avery rolled out of bed in just his gray boxers. He stretched and decided to get coffee before attempting to put the diaper on—just another excuse to delay the inevitable. After his coffee brewed and he downed some Cheerios, he decided he could delay no longer if he didn’t want to miss the bus. He took a knife and slowly cut open the package. He was shocked. There was a slight smell of a delicate balance of soft powdery notes, florals, and subtle sparkling fresh green and citrus top notes. It was a familiar smell, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He pulled two diapers out. One to wear and one to put in his backpack. As he touched it, he could feel the plastic backing. It wasn’t as soft as the adult pull-ups he used. These were supposed to be the thinnest diapers he could get with medium absorbency from the website with a low so-called “crinkle factor.” He still can’t believe he knows about this now. The diaper in his hands still felt thick to him. He couldn’t imagine how thick the large absorbency and nighttime diapers would be. A shiver went down his spine, thinking of having to wear one of those at work. He opened the diaper up. It was huge. At least in his opinion. This was a medium-sized diaper, and he thought it must be too big for him. Avery twisted and moved the diaper around to see how much noise it might make. Sure enough, there was a noticeable crinkle sound to it. Hopefully, with his pants on, that would dampen the crinkle noise sufficiently that it couldn’t be heard. “Ok, do I put this on lying down on the bed, standing up, or sitting on the toilet?” Avery muttered to himself. He thought lying down would be the easiest, but that wouldn’t give him any practice changing his diaper while at work. If he had to do this, he would have to change in the stall. So Avery decided to try doing this on the toilet, sitting down as if he was in a bathroom stall at work. Avery walked into his bathroom. Since he lived alone, the toilet seat was always up, so he put the toilet seat down, folded the large diaper full out, and placed the diaper on the toilet seat. With a sigh, Avery dropped and kicked his boxers off towards the laundry basket and tried to center himself over the diaper while sitting. He then grabbed the back end on one side and pulled it up while also grabbing the front end of the same side with his other hand and bringing them tightly together. He then began to remove the two tapes on one side and tape the sides together. Avery repeated this with the other side. The diaper was fastened. The first thing Avery noticed was how much thicker this diaper was between his legs than a pull-up. When he stood up to look in the mirror, he was shocked at how much higher the front was. He turned around, and the back was much higher up than a pull-up. A pull-up was as high as his boxers for the most part. The diaper went as high as his lower back. “Oh shit, how am I going to hide this. Will people be able to see it through my shirt?” he asked himself as he quickly went to the dresser drawer and picked out a pair of tan khaki work pants. He slipped them on over the diaper. The pants were much tighter and wouldn’t require a belt at all with this diaper. He looked again in the mirror. The diaper was poking out in the front a little, but in the back, it was poking out a good bit. He walked around with each step he could feel the thickness of the diaper between his crotch. It felt so weird. The thickness forced his legs further apart like it was a small pillow. Avery did not like the feeling at all. For a few minutes, he stood there looking at himself in the mirror, wondering if he should risk the adult pull-up. Finally, he convinced himself this was still better than wetting his pants at work. He grabbed a maroon golf shirt and slipped it on. He turned around. Standing straight, he could see the diaper with his shirt untucked. Tucking his shirt in, he felt like you could see the outlines of the back of his diaper. Avery decided it was better to leave the shirt untucked. Avery then bent over. Slight bends seemed to keep the diaper hidden, but he could tell it was a close thing. A full bend down and touching his shoes exposed the back of the diaper. He made a mental note that he couldn’t bend down while standing to pick things up if he dropped something. He would have to get down on his knees and pick it up. Avery then walked around his apartment. He could barely hear the diaper crinkles between his legs as he walked. If he was intentionally listening, he could hear it. Avery prayed that no one would listen to him that close and he could get away with this. Finally, he convinced himself that he was ready to return to work with a diaper on for the first time. He grabbed his morning pills, which included his valium, and swallowed them down with his now-cold coffee. As he was about ready to leave, he grabbed his spare diaper and went to put it in his backpack as he froze. “Shit, I left my backpack at work when I ran out there. I left everything there.” All he had was his work iPhone with him. What could he do? He couldn’t just carry a diaper under his arms. He thought quickly and decided that maybe he could hide it in a lunch sack. He would figure out how to transfer it to his backpack later. He grabbed his lunch sack, which he never used, and stuffed the diaper in there. It was a tight fit. It took up all the space as he had to fold the already folder diaper over another time and squish the sides in to get in the lunch sack. With that, Avery headed out the door with the lunch sack, well aware he was wearing a diaper, and walked to the bus stop. His heart was racing as part of him wanted to run back into the apartment and say forget it. “But then what would I do? I have faced the world and learned to make a living. I want to make it on my own. I have to deal with this regardless of where I work until I get it under control.” When Avery got to the bus stop. All the bench space was taken, and several people were standing around. Avery normally would try to stand close to the bus stop to get in and get a good seat if he could. Today, he stood back. He felt exposed even though he knew no one could see his diaper or hear it with all the busy traffic noise. Time went slowly; what felt like thirty minutes was only five minutes when the bus arrived. As he waited for the bus, he kept fidgeting with the back of his shirt and pulling it down, afraid something would show. Getting on the bus, he saw all the seats were taken. Luckily, there was one seat right by the front of the bus which wasn’t fully taken. “Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked an older man with a briefcase on the empty seat. He looked up at him and just nodded and, grabbed his briefcase, and put it on his lap. Avery took the seat. He wasn’t sure if he was just not talkative or if the man was upset; he asked to sit there. Either way, it was probably good that they didn’t talk. When Avery sat down, he left some space so his legs and hip wouldn’t touch the man. He was afraid that he might feel the padding of the diaper. Everything he was doing was all about avoiding contact and being found out now. Again, the ride seemed to take longer than it actually did. The bus finally arrived at his stop. He now had half a mile to walk to the office building. As he walked by the park where he jumped in the fountain, his memories started coming back about how he ran away. He even walked by the alley where he had hid and cried. He didn’t really believe in one particular religion, but he was sending prayers silently that he would make it through the day. He finally got to the building and walked through the large automatic sliding doors as he entered. Julian and Bryan were already standing there by the entrance desk. Julian gave him a warm smile. Bryan wasn’t so coy about his arrival. “Hey, Avery, we are glad you came back,” He pretty much shouted across the complex. Avery took a deep breath and approached. Julian put his hand out to shake Julian's hand. Julian has a quieter demure about him. “Thanks for giving DNA Pharmacia another chance. We will do everything possible to make your return comfortable and enjoyable.” Avery returned the gesture by shaking Julian's hand. “Thank you, and I am sorry.” Avery swallowed and looked around nervously. Had they all heard about his embarrassing episode? Were they all looking at him knowingly? Julian stepped quickly in with soft and quiet, “Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. It was all John’s fault. No one is going to look down at you.” Avery could tell from Julian’s eyes he meant it. It was Bryan's turn to step and handshake his hand. “Well, I am damn impressed with your work. You're one brilliant...” There was a pause as Bryan almost called him a kid but stopped himself. “Young man. I can’t see what you do next. Shall we take you to Darlene’s floor?” Bryan started to walk off by leading Avery past the security point and onto the elevators. Julian followed. Only the three of them were on the elevator, and Avery was glad for that. He was looking forward and afraid to look at both of them as he wondered if they could tell if he was wearing a diaper or could even hear it. Each step, with the thickness of the diaper, was a reminder of what he was wearing. He could see in the reflection of the elevator door both Julian and Bryan's faces. Bryan kept the conversation going. “I am glad you brought up the fact that there were two different methods being used to solve for the stability of the cell wall thickness between the normal cell and the cancer cell. It has been 9 months at least since we have been working on the problem. I was looking over your calculations more this weekend. I really think you are on the right track. I will get you any support you need.” Bryan said with a big smile. As Bryan was talking, Avery noticed they were going past the floor where his old desk was. “Don’t we need to stop and get my stuff?” Avery asked as they passed the third floor. “No, we don’t. I will grab your stuff or have someone bring it up to you if you don’t mind.” Julian said. “No, I don’t, and thanks,” Avery smiled. That was one less stress to deal with. Just then, the doors opened to the fifth floor. “Welcome to IT!” Bryan said as if it was a good thing. Avery wasn’t so sure yet. Avery followed Julian through a few rows of cubicles. They showed him two empty desks. One was his, and the other was for a visitor as it was labeled such. His desk had his name placed on the desk “Avery Sage.” He wondered why he had a nameplate with his name on this desk. Julian stepped in. “This is something that Darlene does for all her employees. She believes everyone needs to have a name on their desk or their office.”. Julian said. He pointed just past the visitor's desk to Darlene's office. Her nameplate was on the outside of the wall of her office. The nameplate read - “Darlene Matatesa - IT & Cyber Security Director,” Just as Julian pointed out at Darlene's office. The office door opened, and Darlene walked out. Avery was immediately caught off guard. When he heard that the head of IT was a woman, he was rather embarrassed to admit he expected a small, nerdy woman. What he saw couldn’t have been further from that. Her stride was powerful, and it felt like every small movement she made was with purpose. Her hips swayed with each step, and in her hands, she carried a folder in her hands. She was intimidating but undeniably beautiful. Avery found himself hoping he wouldn’t end up on her bad side. “Hi, you must be Avery.” Darlene walked over and put her hand out for him to shake. “I know you are not one of my employees, but I want you to know you are welcome here. I run a tight ship in which Julian can testify. Still, I also take an interest in my employees both professionally and personally.” She paused as Avery shook her hand. Avery noticed she had a strong grip on a woman but very soft hands. The grip was firm like a man's but as soft as a woman's hands often are. “Thank you” He smiled back but only gazed at her for a second. “Well, this is your desk. I took the opportunity to have it set up ready for you. I got you two monitors with a docking station for your laptop. Your phone has already been programmed with your old office number.” She pointed to her desk. “Also, the desk on this level is both a sitting desk and a standing desk”. She leaned over a little to touch the switch that was on the inside of the desk as it started to lift up, and then she toggled it the other way. “Why don’t my employees get this?” Bryan asked. He looked hurt that he wasn’t given the best in things. Julian gave Bryan a stare that said now is not the time to discuss this. Bryan then dropped it. “I also got you all the basic office supplies.” Darlene opened the desk drawers. “And that fancy engineering paper you engineers like.” “You're spoiling Avery,” Bryan said, looking at Darlene. “He is going to want to work for you, not me.” He laughed a little with a slightly sarcastic tone. “Oh, I see you brought your lunch. Here,, let me take it and show you the lunchroom.” Darlene leaned over to take the lunch sack, and to her surprise, Avery quickly stepped back and put his lunch sack behind his back. “No, that is ok. I want to keep it. I eat at my desk so no one can steal my lunch..” Avery's heart was beating fast for fear of being found out. “Ok..Ok.. not a problem. Sorry, I thought you would want to eat lunch with the rest of us. That isn’t a problem. You can eat at the desk as long as you make sure to clean up and no crumbs left behind.” Darlene didn’t know what the deal was, but something was up with him and that lunch sack. She actually had a strict rule about not eating at the desk, but she didn’t want to address this in front of Julian or Bryan. She knew there was some sensitivity with Avery, and he had to be nervous about coming back with his accident. Darelen also suspected that Avery didn’t know if she knew about the accident in the meeting room. She didn’t want to put him on the defensive yet. “Ok with that. I will be going back to my office, and please, if you need anything, talk to me. Ok? I am not all that bad once you get to know me. “ She giggled as she nodded her head to Julian and Bryan. Avery then proceeded to sit down at his new desk. The chair was more comfortable and nicer than the one he had from his previous office. As Avery sat down, he could feel the diaper crinkle below his butt and feel the thickness between the seat and the diaper. Hoping no one heard the diaper, he thought to himself, “Maybe this won’t be so bad. No one knows about the incident, and hopefully, they hadn’t heard about me in one way or another.” “Julian, do you mind if Christy brings up his laptop and personal items?” Bryan asked. Julian looked at Avery quietly and asked, “Avery, do you mind? If you do, I don’t mind getting your stuff for you.” “No, I don’t mind,” Avery responded, but in all reality, he did mind. He didn’t want to see Christy, but he didn’t want to seem rude about it, as if he didn’t like Christy. Christy didn’t do anything wrong, and she was the only one who didn’t laugh at him in the meeting room. “Good, then I will leave you be, but please call me if you need anything.” Julian starts to walk off. “Same here,, Avery. I will go and talk to Christy.” Bryan smiled as he walked off with Julian, leaving Avery alone. Avery sat alone at his desk. There was nothing to do since he didn’t have his notes, computer, or his backpack. Hoping no one knew about the diaper that he sat in. So he sat there and took his phone out and, surfed the internet, and caught up on the Reddit forums he follows.

There is a new character introduced at the end of the chapter. You may not fully understand how or why she knows what she know but it will be apparent in other chapters. Enjoy! I am not settled in and ready to write more often. Chapter 10 - Home Sweet Home Darlene was glad it was Friday and she was finally home. As soon as Darlene walked through the door, she could feel the tension in her shoulders and her neck still from the weeklong stress. The week had taken its toll, and she was glad to be able to sit down and think about other things for a few days. They had three attempted hackers trying to gain control of the network to try to steal all their information. Each one was thwarted by her and her team with no damage to the company or loss of intellectual assets. Her home was her place to escape and rejuvenate. She took pride in her house and how everything was decorated; it reflected her. Even though she loved it, returning to an empty house didn’t always help. She knew just how to shake the feeling off of being alone along with the stress and recharge her batteries. It was called an excellent long exercise session, which always seemed to help. She put her purse and car keys down on the entryway table, along with her sunglasses. She made her way upstairs into the master bedroom, which was spacious and stylishly designed, with a king-sized bed, a comfortable sitting area, and plenty of closet space. The color scheme was soothing and calming, with shades of blue and green that create a serene atmosphere perfect for relaxing in bed or reading a book after a long day. What really set this master bedroom apart was the thoughtful touches that made it clear this space was designed with her need to escape from corporate life. There was a built-in charging station for her phone and a built-in sound system, as well as a small reading nook looking out over the forest. Darlene began to throw her work clothes off and on the king-sized bed. She searched through her dresser drawer for her workout clothes and put on a pair of navy leggings and a matching sports bra that supported her large breasts nicely. She then moved into the master bathroom, which was equally impressive, with a large, luxurious bathtub and a large separate waterfall-type shower. The two sinks and vanity were spacious and well-lit, with plenty of storage for all her beauty products to be neatly organized. The tiles on the floor and walls were sleek and modern stone look, providing a clean and sophisticated look. Between the master bedroom and bathroom, it was a perfect reflection of her – elegant, practical, and designed for both comfort and functionality. It's a space where she could recharge and refresh. She stood in front of the mirror in the master bathroom, where she removed the bun in her hair. She shook her hair out, combed it, and tied it back in a ponytail. Finally, she was ready to go work out. Darlene made her way past three bedrooms, one of which was closed, and then downstairs to her custom-made homework outroom. Darlene had spent a lot of money on her home workout room, one of her pride and joys of the house. The workroom downstairs was flooded with natural light, which poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one wall looking out at her property backed up to a forest. The flooring was made from a soft and durable material that provided excellent traction and cushioning during workouts. There were multiple pieces of state-of-the-art equipment, including a high-end treadmill, rowing machine, and weightlifting station. Each piece of equipment was carefully selected for its performance capabilities and aesthetically pleasing design. The gym also included a variety of smaller workout accessories, such as yoga mats, resistance bands, and foam rollers. In one corner of the room, there was a large screen that could be used for streaming workout classes or playing music videos to keep you motivated during your workout. The walls were adorned with inspiring quotes and artwork, adding a personal touch to the space. The room was also outfitted with a high-quality sound system and wall-mounted TV, allowing you to blast your favorite tunes while you sweat it out or play a workout video. Overall, the home workout gym was the perfect space for a fitness enthusiast who wants to stay in shape without leaving the comfort of their own home. Darlene turned on her TV and selected one of her many premade workout sessions that would last for 90 minutes or more. She started her routine with some cardio on the treadmill. She felt the familiar rush of endorphins flooding her system within a few minutes of the workout. The music from the workout session blaring from her sound system drowned out the outside world's noise, and she could focus solely on her movements. She loved working out. This always made her feel better. She ran for 25 minutes on the treadmill, then did some jumping jacks and burpees. After that, she did some cardio strength training exercises with weights. She did squats, lunges, and bicep curls. She also did some push-ups and sit-ups. She could feel her muscles stretching and contracting and the sweat dripping down her forehead. With each passing moment, she felt the weight of the day lifting off her shoulders. The stress and anxiety that had been plaguing her all week slowly dissipated until she was left feeling renewed and invigorated. Finally, she finished up with some stretching by doing some yoga. She stretched her arms, legs, and back. Before heading back upstairs, Darlene stopped by the kitchen, took a homemade freezer meal out, and placed it in the oven. She opened a fresh bottle of Merlot red wine and poured her wine into your nice wine glasses. Feeling refreshed, she went back up to the master bedroom with a glass of red wine. She took a long shower, enjoying the fragrance of her bath soap and shampoo, which was infused with Ylang-ylang, a floral, tropical scent to promote relaxation and reduce stress. After drying off, Darlene grabbed a fresh bra and panties along with fresh pjs made of light pink cotton sateen, a soft and breathable fabric that was perfect for hot summer nights. The top was a button-up shirt with a Peter Pan collar and long sleeves. The bottom was a pair of loose-fitting shorts with a drawstring waist. The set was trimmed with pink lace, which added a touch of elegance. The soft fabric felt good against her skin, and the loose fit allowed her to move freely. She tied the drawstring on the pants and buttons up the top, then went to the mirror to check herself out. She smiled at her reflection. She looked and felt great. She grabbed her red wine and took a sip. “Time to relax for the rest of the evening,” she told herself as she exited the master bedroom. She passed the closed door once again, which was the nursery that she had never been able to get rid of. She set a hard date in about two weeks; Goodwill was going to come by and pick all the stuff up. Every time she passed, she felt a sense of sadness and lost hope. She was supposed to have a 9-month-old baby in the crib by now, but her body did not do well in the delivery process. She lost her child. The delivery was so bad that she would never be able to get pregnant again. Darlene shook the memory off as she sipped her wine and walked downstairs. The house was lonely. It was her dream house she built two years ago with something more in mind, but tonight she was going to enjoy the time alone and start watching Game of Thrones, which everyone talked about, and her sisters said she must get into. The kitchen was the least used place, with the exception of the empty dining room and spare bedrooms. She went over to the oven and pulled out her meal. Chicken cordon bleu for the evening, served with fresh green beans and a side of sweet potatoes. It smelled good. Since she lived alone, once a month, she would spend a day or two preparing nice healthy meals for her and freeze them to be eaten during the next month. The living room of the house was where she spent most of her evenings before heading to bed. A spacious area with a high ceiling and large windows that let in the natural light, the room was decorated with a modern and chic flair. The furniture was sleek and comfortable, with a plush sofa, a love seat, and a couple of accent chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a huge coffee table. Despite all the furniture, there was still empty space to fill. The centerpiece of the room was a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The woman had spared no expense in acquiring the latest technology so that she could enjoy her favorite shows and movies in stunning clarity. The sound system was equally impressive, with speakers tucked discreetly into the corners of the room, ensuring that she got a cinema-like experience whenever she watched something. The color palette of the room was a mix of neutrals and bold colors, with a deep purple rug covering the hardwood floor. The walls were painted in a pale gray that contrasted well with the dark wooden shelves lining one of the walls. The shelves displayed her collection of books, decorative vases, and other trinkets that she had picked up during her travels. As the sun began to set, Darlene settled into her cozy living room, ready to indulge in her guilty pleasure - watching the first episode of Game of Thrones. She had been meaning to start the series for months, and finally, she had the perfect evening and weekend to do so. As she dug into her dinner, she eagerly pressed play on her remote control, excited to immerse herself in the world of Westeros. As the opening credits began to roll, she couldn't help but marvel at the stunning visuals and haunting music. From the first scene, she found herself immediately drawn to the characters and their stories. As she watched, she savored the flavors of her dinner and sipped her wine, enjoying the perfect combination of comfort food and indulgent entertainment. She laughed at the witty banter between Tyrion Lannister and Jon Snow and gasped in shock as the plot twists and turns unfolded before her. As the episode drew to a close, she was engrossed in the world of Game of Thrones, and she felt a sense of satisfaction and anticipation. She knew she had found a new favorite show that would keep her entertained for many evenings to come. She started the second episode, and she wasn’t 30 minutes into the second episode when she got a text. It was a text sent by her automated IT alert system. “Yellow alert, adult website access on company property, log number 347820.” She hadn’t seen one of these in a while. Darlene paused the movie. She walked into an over sized home office, sat at her desk, and loaded up her computer. Darlene then went into her custom-made IT security management software to look for the log number. Once she found it, she clicked it. User ID AV672XX access website www.mamabs.com. Site content label “Adult Content.” Security System “OK”. Darlene never heard of this website. But that wasn’t unusual when she got these kinds of alerts. The User ID was Avery Sage. “Oh shit, this is the one that Julian wants her to take in and house in her department.” She said to herself. “It looks like it won’t be that long till he gets let go for looking at porn on the company computers.” Darlene had never heard of that site, and in the past, everything she got on one of these alerts was always porn, so was her assumption here. She was shocked when she clicked on the site and realized it was a shopping site. The first thing she saw were adult diapers. But these were not regular adult diapers. There were all sorts of designs that were for babies and toddlers. She suddenly remembers Avery's accident early this week. She was confused. Did this young man have a medical problem? If he did, why this site? With a “yellow” alert. Darlene had two weeks to report it. Typically, she just reported it the next day, but this wasn’t a porn site. This wasn’t a typical adult site. She could see that he had clicked on several pages as he looked over diapers, baby supplies, baby clothes, and actual medical supplies. If anyone knew what this site might be about, it would be her sister, Ashley Matatesa. “ Darlene texted Ashley on her personal iPhone. Ashley, what is this site? Is it sexual? I figured you would know based on your knowledge of this kind of stuff. I need help because someone accessed this website on a work computer.” Darlene then proceeded to put a block on the website. Even if it was innocent, it was unnecessary to access this site on company-issued hardware. Afterward, Darlene returned to watching the second episode of Games of Thrones. It was almost 10 p.m. as she was on the third episode. She got a text back from her sister “Sorry I took so long to respond. I was busy. So, someone accessed this from work? To your answers, yes, this could be sexual, but not always. There is a group of people who identify themselves as Adult Babies and Diaper Lovers. Sometimes, it is very sexual and can be incorporated into BDSM or just Domination play. I have never had a client ask for this, but I have heard of it. I also hear some just like to regress and don’t find it sexual at all. Then the site also has a lot of medical equipment, so could the employee be buying medical equipment?” Darlene thought about it. “I saw that he purchased a case of medium size adult all-white disposable diapers, so I guess that could go either way.” It was only a minute later that she got another text back for Ashely. “I can research it for you more later. I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” “No, you don’t have to research it. I can do it if needed. I blocked the site so no one can access it on work computers or phones. Maybe we can talk about it at our Wednesday girls' evening get-together. ;)” “Sounds good.” Darlene returned to the Game of Thrones and had a second glass of red wine before calling it a night.

Sorry every one it has taken me so long. Here is the next two chapters. These two chapters you may find slow but it is necessary. I will get the next one out very shortly. Chapter 8 - Elder Wisdom Avery screamed out into the darkness, “Mommy, Daddy, No, No!” as he quickly sat up in the darkness of his closet. His heart was racing against his chest. He felt hot and sweaty. Tears ran down his face, and he couldn’t stop crying as he hugged his stuffed red dog, Clifford. Avery wasn’t sure where he was for a few minutes as he was disoriented and confused. As Avery stared into the closet's darkness in a panicked state for a while, he slowly came back to reality, realizing it was just a really vivid dream. He hadn’t had this dream for a few years. He couldn’t recall the last time his dream was this explicit. He never knew if his dream was real, a figment of his imagination, or somewhere between. The foster agency never fully came clean about what happened to his parents when they passed away. He often wondered if this was a repressed memory deep in his mind. Whatever the case, it always seemed to pop up when he was at his most stressed. It took him several minutes just to start pulling himself together. He finally started to calm down and took a few deep breaths. He reached for the doorknob of the closet and then realized the comforter was soaking wet, and the bottom of the mat was also wet. That was when he realized the crotch of his boxers and the bottom of his t-shirt were soaked. This meant only one thing. He wet himself while he was asleep. He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t wet the bed since he was 7 or 8. He put his head in his hands. As if embarrassing himself the previous day hadn’t been bad enough, now he was wetting himself in his sleep. “Maybe I am just a useless baby…” Avery muttered to himself, echoing some of the shouts he had heard whilst making his way home the previous day. The sun was bright in his bedroom when he opened his closet door. He had been asleep for over 18 hours. He couldn’t believe how long he had been asleep. He must have been very emotionally exhausted from yesterday. Now that there was light in the closet, he could see the full extent of how badly he had wet the comforter and red and blue mat. Since the mat was waterproof by design, some of his urine had run off onto the carpet. He didn’t want to deal with this problem because he was still feeling the lingering effects of his dream like he just lost someone and the sadness that came with it. Regardless, he had to clean up his mess before it started to smell worse. He wiped the tears from his eyes, stepped out of his boxers, and tossed them on the comforter. Afterward, he quickly rinsed off in the shower before getting a new pair of boxes. He stepped into a fresh pair of gray gym shorts with a small black strip down the sides and a black PS4 T-shirt with four main buttons across his chest. Under the kitchen sink, he found one of his white garbage bags. He took the garbage back and stuffed the soaked comforter and boxes in the bag. He loosely tied the bag up and set it by his door to prevent any odors from getting around in the apartment. Then he took care of wiping down the mat with a Clorox wipe. All the while, he kept thinking about the dream as the feelings still wouldn’t leave him as he whipped and dried the mat the best he could with the paper towels. He pulled the mattress out of the closet. The pee had soaked up under the mat on the carpet. He used one of his bath towels to help soak up all the pee on the floor. He didn’t have a carpet cleaner and wasn’t sure what to do, so he mixed some dish soap and water. Grabbed two more bath towels. He then got down on all fours and tried to scrub the carpet as best he could with the soap. He wasn’t sure if he got it all out. Even so, he dried the carpet the best he could with the towel. He opened the blinds so more light could get into the closet, hoping that would help dry the carpet better. Avery’s work iPhone rang. He looked down. It was Bryan again. “Not now. I can’t deal with him,” he said as he decided to ignore it and let it go to voicemail again. He took the three dirty towels to the front door and put them in a trash bag with his other wet items. Avery went into his pantry in the kitchen, where he kept his laundry detergent and quarters for the public washer and dryer the apartment complex provides. He hoped no one would be in the laundromat on a Friday at lunchtime as he headed out with the items in hand, including the sizable bulky trash bag with his soaked comforter and boxers. Avery’s heart still felt heavy and sad, not from the accident but from the dream. It always made him wish he knew his parents and had better memories of what they looked like and sounded like. He continued to walk by the other apartments toward the laundry mat. His mind wondered what his parents would think of him if they were looking at him from above. Would they be proud of him for graduating high school early and getting his Bachelor of Science at age 19? Would they be mad at him for how badly he screwed his opportunity up yesterday and peed in front of all those people? How they made fun of him even as he continued to pee and make a puddle on the floor. Who would ever want a son like that? Maybe it was better they hadn’t lived to see how much he messed everything up. Soft, slow tears slid down Avery’s face as he walked into the laundromat carrying the trash bag over his shoulders. The laundry mat was a dingy room with a concrete floor. The walls were painted a sickly green as it hasn’t been updated in a long time, and the air was thick with the smell of detergent and sweat. The light came through the windows, along with a few fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead. There were a dozen or so washing machines and dryers lined up against the walls. Some of them were already in use, and the noise was deafening. The dryers rumbled and shook, and the washing machines churned and sloshed. Despite the noise and the smell, the laundromat was usually a place where people came to socialize. People of all ages and backgrounds would come here to do their laundry, especially on the weekends, and they would often strike up conversations while they waited for their clothes to wash and dry. There were benches, chairs, tables for sitting, and tables for folding clothes. Being that it was a Friday before lunch, Avery was lucky for now. There was no one at the laundromat. The few laundry machines going must have their items dropped off and started so the owners could take care of other things. Avery chose the washing machine closest to the door and quickly tore the trash bag. It smelled like urine. He tossed in the comforter, boxers, towels, and laundry detergent as quickly as possible. He set the washing machine on very hot and as long of a cycle as he could. He shoved the quarters in. As Avery did this, someone walked in. He quickly tossed the trash bag into the trash in the laundry room. “Geeze, it smells rancid in here, don’t you think?” An older woman carrying a laundry basket with her said to him. “Yes, it does. I am not sure why. They need to clean this place more often.” He said, trying to pretend he didn’t know what or where the odor came from. “Have a good day.” He nodded and smiled at the older woman. Before she could respond, he was out the door. He set the alarm for 1 hour and 30 minutes to remind him to return and put the items in the Dryer. As Avery walked back to his apartment, he realized for the first time that he was hungry and realized he hadn’t had anything since breakfast yesterday. No wonder his stomach was rumbling and mad with him. When Avery got back to the apartment, he went straight for the pantry. There wasn’t much there. He needed to get more food, but the last thing he wanted to do was go back out in public today. He was done with people. He found a couple of packets of instant oatmeal. That should settle his stomach for a while. He tried playing some video games on his PS4 as he continued ignoring Byran's calls. It wasn’t long after that the alarm went off to check on the laundry. When he returned to the laundromat, there were more people, and the old lady was still there. Except she was sitting close to his washer. The washing machine had not finished yet and was on a spin. He was going to have to wait. Avery didn’t want to sit, so he paced back and forth in front of the old lady. “You look like a lost cat, pacing like that. Are you ok?” the old lady spoke softly without looking at him. Avery looked over at the old lady as she was sewing a quilt while waiting on her laundry. “I am fine,” Avery said. “That means you are not fine. I may be old, but I can still read people.” At that moment, his phone rang, and Avery pulled it out. It was Byran again. Avery let out a big huff. “Stop calling me,” He said. He didn’t notice he said it out loud and ignored the phone call. “Well, whatever it is, that phone call seems to have something to do with it.” the old lady didn’t even look up as she was sewing, “You know, I am almost 80 years old. Life has never been easy for me. I have messed up more times than I can count my fingers and multiply it by two or more times.” She pauses. Avery didn't say anything but stood still. She assumed he was listening. "Life is like sewing a quilt," the old woman said. "You start with a blank piece of fabric, and you add pieces of fabric to it. Each piece of fabric represents a different experience in your life. Some pieces are happy, some are sad, some are exciting, and some are boring. But all of them are important." "As you sew the pieces together, you create a pattern. The pattern is your life story. It's unique to you." The old woman smiled. "Sometimes," she said, "the pattern is easy to see. Other times, it's hard to see. But it's always there." Avery finally spoke to the old woman who seemed lost in her sewing. "So, what happens when I mess up big time on the quilt? Throw it away seems to be the answer," he asked. The older woman laughed. "Everyone makes mistakes," she said. "That's part of life. But don't worry. You can always rip out the mistake and start over. Or, you can leave the mistake in like I do. It might make your quilt even more beautiful ." At that point, the washing machine with Avery’s clothes made a sound indicating it was done. Avery was silent again as he moved his clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. When Avery turned around to leave, the old woman looked up for a second. "Life is a journey," she said. "It's full of ups and downs but also full of beauty. What you do next could determine what the next pattern of your quilt might look like.” “Early on in my life, when I made mistakes in life. I would push people away because I was angry and scared. That is how I lost my husband.” She looked down at her quilt. “But, I carried on and learned from those mistakes.” “I will keep that in mind.” Avery didn’t know what else to say to end the conversation as he left to head back to the apartment. As he returned to the apartment, “Damn, that woman got into my head. “ he paused and looked up at the sky. He realized he would have to answer the call sooner or later. Plus, he needed to get his stuff back. Chapter 9 -Difficult Decisions For the next two hours, Avery poured his attention into playing Sackboy on his PS4. afterward, he went to go pick up his laundry out of the dryer from the laundromat. The old woman was gone when he came back. A part of him wanted her to be there, and the other part was glad she wasn’t. When Avery got back home, He placed the bedspread on the bed where it belonged, folded the rest of the laundry, and put it up. Avery returned to his game and grabbed a drink and snack as it loaded. He kept his attention away from yesterday's event by playing several levels on Sackboy. He finally came upon a hard level, where he made his way through the tunnels, avoiding the creatures and the traps. He eventually made it to the end of the level, where he faced off against a giant rat. As he fought the rat with all his character’s strength and his skills on the controller, his iPhone rang again on the coffee table; it was Bryan. Avery paused his game before beating the boss. He leaned over and rubbed both of his hands on his face, covering his eyes as he took a deep breath before answering the phone. “Hello?” “Ah, finally got a hold of you. I was worried you weren’t going to pick up.” Bryan sounded relieved to Avery. He wondered if Bryan was going to tell him he was fired. “I am sorry, I have been busy,” Avery lied. It was a weak lie, and he knew he didn’t sound convincing at all. Based on the silence at the other end of the phone, Bryan didn't believe him. “So, I wanted to call and personally apologize for how John, Zak, and Ethan behaved yesterday. That was completely inappropriate.” Bryan eventually said. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I just want to get my things and figure things out from there. Is there a way you can have my stuff for me down on the first floor by security so I don’t have to come up there? I don’t really want to see anyone.” Avery replied miserably. “Why? Are you quitting? If you are, I would like to try to change your mind.” Bryan’s voice didn’t seem surprised; he sounded earnest. There was a long pause as Avery wasn’t sure what to say. He was sure they would let him go. Maybe they wouldn’t call it a firing but no longer need him or something like that. “Um, what do you mean?” Bryan suddenly realized that Avery thought he was calling to let him go. He didn’t want to embarrass him more, so he ignored his revelations. “We, being myself, Julian, and on behalf of DNA Pharmacia, would love for you to continue to work for us. Christy brought to my attention the work you have been doing these last two weeks. I looked over it all day and last night. I think you have a very valid point that there is a fundamental flaw in the calculations and not the programming. I would like you to continue to research and develop the calculations so we can modify the code and try it out in the program. Even if you are wrong, I am sure there is something to learn from your analysis that we can use to improve the calculations in the worst case and still look for the hidden program error.” Avery couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bryan was not just asking him to come back out of sympathy for him but because of what he tried to explain to John and the team. There was a pause. “Does the cat have your tongue, Avery?” Bryan finally broke the silence. “Ah, sorry. I appreciate the acknowledgment. But I don’t think John wants me on his team anymore.” Avery's voice sounded nervous and a little scared. “Ah, John… I am not going to beat around the bush. What John did was wrong in so many ways. We are addressing this the best we can. John does not have a choice of who he chooses to be on his team for this project anymore. In the future, I will always supervise any direct contact you have with him. You are not to be alone with him. I will make a promise that John will not be confrontational or derogatory around you again with my presence.” Avery listened. “But his office is close to my office. What about when you go for a meeting? You can’t be there all the time.” He felt like he was sounding pathetic. Like he couldn’t defend himself at all and needed a bigger, stronger person to look after him. “Your office will now be located on floor 5 in the IT department. He will not be allowed to go to that level of the building.” Bryan said firmly, “The only time you will come down to our level is when I am present, and you will be with me. Christi and I really respect you and all the hard work you put into this. What do you say? Give us another chance?” Again, there was a pause. Did Christy really respect him? How? He peed on the floor. Maybe if he could prove that his calculations could actually fix the program, John and the rest of his team would see what he could offer to the team. That is all that he really wanted, in the end, a chance to prove he was right and for others to see his worth. “Yes, I will come back.” Avery’s voice sounded hesitant. “Great, see you on Monday. Enjoy the weekend. Do something fun so you come to work refreshed. I will meet you down at the lobby at 8 a.m. to take you up to the IT department, and you can meet Darlene, the IT Director. She’ll get you set up at your new desk.” “Got it, 8 am. Thanks. See you then, and you have a good weekend, too,” Avery hung up. What did he do? Why did he agree to go back? He will be the laughingstock of the place. What if he has a repeat incident? He will still have to work with John, even under supervision, which will still be stressful. His pull-ups were not absorbent enough to hold an accident like he had. What was he going to do if he had another? He kept turning this over and over in his head again as he played Sackboy on his PS4 for another hour to try to get his fears to go away. Finally, he stopped. He had to admit that he knew what the answer to his problems was… He just desperately wanted to avoid it. “I am going to need something thicker and more absorbent. “ He thought to himself as he grabbed his iPhone and began to research “adult diapers.” He rolled his eyes at himself. Just typing in the search engine was difficult for him, and he had a feeling of being beaten. He came across a local website that says they do discreet deliveries in 1 hour or the next day locally. The website was called MamaB’s AB and Medical Supplies. He liked that they delivered discreetly, and they looked to be the only ones that were local. Amazon would have to be his next best guess to search if this didn’t work out. Avery clicked on the website. He was taken back a little bit. There were definitely adult diapers. Pictures of all types of diapers. He also saw links to clothes, furniture sections, accessories, supplies, and toys sections. There was also a link to “How to select the right diapers or protective wear for you.” It was all a bit overwhelming and a lot more full-on that he had expected. He’d had no idea there could be so many different options. When Avery clicked on the link to the diapers, he had the option to select Disposable or Cloth. Avery clicked on the disposable diapers. There were solid white disposable diapers of all sizes and thicknesses—some with and without wetness indicators. What really caught his eye was all the adult diapers that looked more like babies or toddlers. Some were pink, blue, and green. Most were white with all kinds of different patterns. Some had ABC building blocks, Some had mermaids, and some had puppies and other types of items. There were over 8 pages of diapers to search through. What had he stumbled on? He was overwhelmed as he looked at them. He thought there might be a few selections of adult diapers, but nothing like this. But at the same time, there was also the typical stuff you would expect. From mobility aids like walkers, wheelchairs, and crutches to orthopedic supports and compression stockings, the store had it all. As he clicked through it, the site was meticulously organized with products like blood pressure monitors, diabetic supplies, respiratory aids, and medical beds. It was almost like the site had two sections: the typical medical supply and the non-typical medical supply, as he called it in his head. He then, just out of curiosity, clicked through accessories and saw adult baby bottles, adult sippy cups, changing mats, and other items. He did the same with clothes where they had a little boy and girl clothes. Dresses for girls and patterns that were very childish. He also saw PJs, shorttails, and even pants and shirts that were clearly meant for children and yet were sized to fit adults.. He then clicked on AB furniture, though he had no idea what AB stood for. He saw cribs, playpens, changing tables, high chairs, and rocking horses and other items. He was stunned, but then he remembered reading about how some babies born didn’t have developed brains and were basically babies their entire lives. He reasoned with himself this is what the site was catering to. Still, it was a little strange to see it all right in front of him. Finally, Avery got serious and decided to go back to the diapers. There was a link. “How to buy the right diaper”. He couldn’t believe it, but he was going to click on it. The site read, “Things to consider when buying diapers. Waistband height, Leakguard height, Tape Type, Number of Tapes, Absorbency Requirement, Cloth or Plastic Preference, Waist Measurement, Crinkle Factor, and Cuteness Factor. Avery was overwhelmed; there was so much choice that he felt like his head was spinning. He wasn’t sure what half the options meant, and he realized this whole process would require more research than he imagined. He realized what he wanted in the end was something that had four tapes and medium absorbency, as he had learned there were four types of absorbency. Low, medium, heavy, and overnight. He wanted something with a low crinkle factor (he couldn’t understand why anyone would WANT more crinkles…) but was not able to get to the lowest number. He ended up going with something called a crinkle factor of 4 out of 10. That was the lowest he could find in the medium absorbency without going to cloth diapers. Cloth diapers would be way too thick to hide at work. He found a standard white diaper that he thought he could go with and ordered two packets to start with. Each packet of diapers contained 12 diapers. As he placed the order, he felt a sense of defeat and humiliation even though no one would know. Avery decided he didn’t need these diapers till Monday. So he did the next day delivery instead of a one-hour delivery. Having finally clicked to confirm the payment, Avery sat back and felt very strange. His wetting problem had been around on and off for a long time, but he had never resorted to full diapers; he’d always told himself he would never go that far. It hardly felt real that he had really made the order, even as “Order Confirmed!” appeared on the screen. He got up and took his night meds and a valium to help him sleep better. He thought to himself, “I will end this day playing Sackboy and at least enjoy myself and not think about the diapers anymore.” As he grabbed the controller and started the game back up again, he tried to rid his mind of his new purchase. He hadn’t had a day of playing video games since he started this job. He was going to do this tonight and the rest of the weekend to keep his mind off what was to come on Monday.

My goal in writing this story is to write it like you would pick up a novel in a bookstore. Character development and plot development is very important to me so please continue to enjoy this slow burn of a story. I really appreciate the encouragement and comments from those who have given it to me! Avery now has to make his way home. Chapter 6 - Walk of Shame Avery could not get out of DNA Pharmica fast enough. He did not stop and look to see who noticed that his crotch was soaking wet in the tan dockers, along with the wetness that ran down the front of the left side of his leg. He could feel other people’s eyes looking at him. "Why the fuck did I let this happen in front of everyone. I am a fucking loser." He shouted at himself internally. He felt like he had blown it. It was a chance to really show off what he could do, and instead, he had wet his pants like a toddler. Avery was filled with so many emotions he couldn't sort them all at once. Why did John have to be such an ass? Mayle John was right. He is just a dumb ass. Why did he have to lose control like some dumb little kid? He is an adult." Tears continued to roll down his face as he walked briskly through the front entryway, quickly badged out, and passed the automated front doors. When Avery stepped outside, he felt so small as the sidewalk was full of people walking in both directions. It didn't help that it was approximately eleven a.m. and lunchtime for most people, with his pants soaking wet and his pull-up thoroughly soaked past its usefulness. He felt the whole world looking at him. Things couldn't be worse. He almost bumped into a woman as he turned left. The woman paused, and a look of disgust went across her face. “Ew, gross," she thundered as she backed away and pointed at him. It was loud enough to cause others to pause and look at him. He heard people shouting and exclaiming; he heard some laughing and wolf-whistling. He kept his head down, but he couldn’t block out the comments: “He wet himself!”, “Get a picture!”, “Hey, buddy! The kindergarten is back that way!” Avery quickly dashed around the woman heading for the bus stop almost a mile away. Avery made it down a few blocks, passing everyone. He could tell and feel several people watching him and occasionally catching comments about him. Panic and embarrassment took over as he saw an alleyway up ahead and ducked inside, hoping to escape the crowd. The alleyway was dark and narrow, and the only light came from the open doors of the businesses on either side. He ducked into the next alleyway between business buildings. He ran quickly to the back of the alley and hid between two large green metal dumpsters. Avery closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He could hear the noise of the city all around him, but it seemed muffled and distant. He was safe here, hidden from the world. At least till someone discovered him. He felt his full pull-up and wet pant leg. He didn’t know what he could do from this point. He was in the middle of the city in obviously wet clothes and no spares. It was a nightmare. Avery sat down on the ground with his knees curled up to his face and arms wrapped around his legs and cried with his back against one of the dumpsters. He sat there while the busy sidewalkers paced him by. The world had no idea he existed. Avery cursed his own existence. Things were not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to prove he was worthy and valuable to the company. But no, he had to piss his chance away, literally. As he cried on the cold, hard concrete, he slammed his fist on the concert floor, constantly cursing himself. Finally, after about an hour, he calmed himself down and leaned back against the wall, feeling his full pull-up was no longer warm but cold. He closed his eyes and let the darkness wash over him. He felt the tension in his body start to melt away, and he took another deep breath. At the very least, he should’ve brought a spare pull-up. He opened his eyes and looked around. The alleyway was still dark and narrow, but it didn't seem so scary anymore. He could see the sunlight streaming in through the open doors of the businesses. He knew that he couldn't stay in the alleyway forever, but for now, it was a safe place to hide. He could take a break from the world.. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would have to find a way to get on the bus and go home. He looked up between the two buildings to the partly cloudy sky. He thought this wouldn't be so bad if he got soaked head to toe in the water. At that moment, he realized he was just a few blocks from the downtown city park. It had a large fountain. Whatever he did, the one thing he didn't want to smell like pee when he got on the bus. His full pull-up was not doing him any good now and only made him feel worse. He needed to get it off before he got to the park. It had been an hour or so since he sat between the two dumpsters, and no one had come by. “Maybe I can get his thing off me quickly before anyone walks by and sees me.” Avery stood up and poked his head out between the two dumpsters. There were still a lot of people walking down the busy sidewalk, but no one even noticed him looking, and no one was coming down that alley. Avery quickly stepped back to the safety of being between the two dumpsters. He took a deep breath and dropped his pants, revealing the bulging wet pull-up. He tore quickly at one side to get it loose and quickly tore at the other side as he was exposed for a brief seconds before he tossed the pull-up over into one of the dumpsters and quickly bent over to pull his pants back on. After another deep breath, he decided to get back on the sidewalk, walking briskly towards the park. Just a block before the park, the pedestrian crosswalk traffic light was red. He stood there with a few other people, trying to focus only on looking forward to the green light to cross. Before the light changed, he heard a little girl say, “Mommy, did that boy pee in his pants?” as the little girl looked back at him. The mother turns her head and looks at him. Avery felt so small with the mother of the little girl. She pulled her daughter closer. “Not everyone can be a big girl like you, Lisa.” The little girl couldn’t help but look back at him as Avery tried to ignore her and keep his composure. “You mean he needs to be in diapers.” Just then, the light turned green, and that was all that Avery needed as he rudely pushed his way past the other people waiting to cross and took off running for the park. Avery arrived on the outskirts of the business park. This was the first time he really ever paid much attention to it as he scoped it out. What he saw as the downtown park was a tranquil oasis amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy city. The lush green lawns and well-manicured flower beds offered a serene respite from the concrete jungle of the metropolis. In the center of the park stood a large custom-made fountain with a towering spray of water that glistened in the sunshine. From the looks of it, people and children from all walks of life gather here to toss coins into the fountain, making a wish or a prayer for good fortune. The sound of the splashing water would normally create a calming ambiance for him, besides all the bushes surrounding the outer walkway to the fountain. Benches and tables surrounded the fountain. To Avery’s dismay, there were people having picnics on the benches, and it looked like a couple of older people were playing a game of chess near the fountain. Why did there have to be so many people around this fountain? Avery ducked behind some bushes to survey what to do and to hide his wet pants. He took out his iPhone as he realized. “Shit, I forgot my backpack and computer. This is my work iPhone, not my personal iPhone.” If anyone went to look in his backpack, they would find a couple of pull-ups. Avery shook his head, upset with himself. There was no way he was going to go back to the office now. He may never return to the office where he was sure the gossip was spreading like wildfire. He will have to find another time to gather his things. Right now, he just wanted to get home. Then he saw an opening. He could make a run for the fountain. He could jump on the ledge, pretend to be balancing, and accidentally fall into the fountain. Yes, everyone would be looking at him and maybe laughing, but they would be laughing because he was being stupid and playing around, not because he peed in his pants. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be the first person to fall into the fountain. He didn’t exactly like being the center of attention like that, but it was better than anything else he could come up with Avery laid his work iPhone down under a bush where he would pick it up on the way out. He then walked briskly over to the fountain. He hopped up on it with the wet side of his pants facing the fountain. He pretended to balance himself. Then, he saw an older man walking up toward the fountain. This was perfect. He could pretend to be caught off guard, bump into him, and fall in. The old man went just behind Avery as he went to toss a coin into the well. Avery pretended to back up and bumped into the older man's arm. “Oh, I am ve-... Argh!” Avery said as he pretended to apologize as he fell into the fountain. The fountain water was freezing as he got up, soaking from head to toe. “Oh, I am sorry. I am so sorry,” the old man said. Avery stood up. “It is ok; it was my fault. I didn’t see you. Don’t worry about it.” Avery was cold from the water, but at least no one could tell he peed his pants anymore, or could they smell it if they lingered too long next to him? He quickly exited the fountain as the older man kept apologizing. Only if he knew the relief Avery felt right now as he briskly walked away. “It is really ok,” Avery shouted back as he leaned down to the bush to pick up his iPhone and then began walking casually towards the busy sidewalk again. As he tried to walk to the bus stop, everyone stared at him; Avery smiled. “ I accidentally got pushed into the fountain.” Even though he was a little chilly, the rest of the walk was so much better as he approached the bus stop. He wasn’t dripping wet anymore, but his clothes were still soaked. Avery felt a sense of relief that he no longer felt like he was peeing in his pants. When people looked at him, he just said. “I was playing around on the fountain and accidentally fell in,” laughing at himself when he said this. He almost felt giddy for coming up with this idea. It took about thirty minutes for the bus to come. When the bus arrived, Avery tried to get on. The bus driver looked right at him. “If you ride the bus, you can’t sit down on one of the chairs. You are going to have to stand holding on to one of the rails.” Avery looked up a female bus driver. She looked like someone you wouldn’t want to cross. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t sit down.” He hated the way she said this so loud and was drawing attention to himself when he stepped on the bus. “Hold there by the front,” She shouted at him. “Kids these days,” the bus driver mumbled to herself as she closed the door, and Avery stepped in and took hold of one of the bars above his head. The ride on the bus was pretty uneventful. The front seat where he was holding the bar remained empty because no one wanted to sit by him when he was so wet. He really didn’t care and thought that was for the better. Finally, his stop arrived. When he exited, he walked briskly on his way home. His triumph was short-lived because as soon as he exited he walked to his apartment complex. He realized once again what happened and how he made a fool of himself. In addition to that, he left his backpack and his personal iPhone back at the office. There is no way he wanted to go back. As Avery was rushing back to his apartment, he was looking at the floor and not paying attention to where he was going. He accidentally bumped into a man in his thirties who was well-built. “You are wet. What the hell do you think you were doing?” He felt the guy push both of his hands hard on his chest as he stumbled backward, hitting the back of an iron fence.. “OW’ Avery cried. “Better watch where you were going next time, loser,” the guy gave him a mean look as he went on walking. “Fuck you!” Avery yelled back as the built man turned back, and Avery got up to take off running. “That is what I thought, loser, you didn’t have the balls to be a man,” He yelled. Avery ran the rest of the way home and went to his apartment door. He quickly opened it and slammed the door hard closed. He was sure his neighbors could hear he didn’t care. It was only 2 pm. He didn’t care much about anyone right now. The first thing Avery did was go to the kitchen and grab himself some orange juice and vodka. He didn’t normally drink in the afternoon; if he did, it was only a small glass a night. But today, he filled it up with vodka almost halfway and the rest with orange juice. “I just want to fucking forget this day,” he cried out loud to himself. He then grabbed his drink and went into the bathroom, stripped off his wet clothes, and threw them on the bathroom floor. He turned on the shower and stepped inside after the water warmed up. There, he just stood with his head against the wall of the shower as the water ran down his head and back. He broke down and cried like he hadn’t in a long time. He stayed in the shower too long. When he got out of the shower, his toes and fingers were wrinkly like an old lady's fingers. The bathroom was just a large fog, and the mirror was completely fogged over. After fully drying himself, he got out of the bathroom and opened his drawer, grabbed hunter-green boxer briefs, and slid them on. He felt emotionally and physically exhausted. Avery went over to his bed, pulled off the bedspread, and laid it down on the floor. He grabbed a pillow from his bed and his stuffed big red dog, Clifford, and placed them both on the bedspread on the floor. He looked at his iPhone on the dresser. Noticed a missed call from Bryan but decided to ignore it and power off the iPhone. He didn’t want to talk to him or anyone. He opened his walk-in closet, where he had a red and blue large mat against the wall. He laid down, pulled his bedspread in, and grabbed his pillow, and Clifford placed them down. He basically made himself a small bed in a closet. “I am giving up on this day… Maybe the whole week,” he told himself as he looked at the clock. It was only 3 p.m., and the sun was shining outside through his closed blinds. He went back to the bathroom and grabbed one valium, one sleeping pill, and his Zoloft. He is taking his meds early, which was fine; he had no problem with an early night after all the excitement of the day. He then went back to the closet and got down on his knees to make the bed as best as he could in the closet. Once the bedspread, the pillow, and Clifford were all in the right spot. He closed the closet door with him inside and laid down, grabbing Clifford and hugging it tightly as he wrapped himself in the bedspread. For some reason, the closet always made him feel safe and secure. Growing up with foster parents, he slept many a night in the closet when he was in trouble or he felt bad or down. As he lay down and his head hit the pillow, he then began to cry. He cried for a good 30 minutes before he passed out in complete darkness.

This chapter is all about introducing a new major character in this story, enjoy. Chapter 5 - A Favor Turned In Julian walked up to Darlene's office door, which was closed. He knocked on it. "Yes?" He could hear Darlene's voice. "It's Julian. Can we talk?" "Yes, sure, we can talk. Just give me a second to get decent," Darlene said as Julian could hear her putting something away. "You can come in, Julian." Julian entered, saw a drawer closing, and Darlene buttoned the top of her blouse. "Could you do me a favor and put those two bottles of milk up for me?" Julian reached over and grabbed the two small bottles of milk and put them in the small office refrigerator that she had in one corner of her office by one of the office windows where the blinds were currently down. Darlene was a 34-year-old businesswoman, the IT director for DNA Pharmacia. She was young for her position. Darlene was about 6’2” tall for a woman and weighed about 140 lbs. She was the tallest of her two sisters by six inches. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she was wearing minimal makeup. Her nails were clean and trimmed. Today, she wore a tank business suit, a light gray sleeveless jacket, and a pantsuit made from a wrinkle-resistant fabric. The jacket was single-breasted, custom-made for her large breasts with a fitted silhouette. The pants were a light gray pencil-leg. Underneath the jacket, she wore a pale pink blouse typically made of silk with a button-down front and collar with long sleeves and buttoned cuffs. She had a long neckline and wore a pearl necklace that added a touch of elegance to her outfit. She also wore small diamond earrings that didn’t distract from her face's soft, smooth skin. "Well, Julian. I haven't heard from you for a while, so I know you're not here to ask me out for drinks. Did one of my employees do something stupid? Just tell me, and you know I will address it immediately. I don't like my employees to give my department anything but a stellar reputation." Darlene gave Julian that curious but serious look as she sat looking at him across her desk. "May I sit?" Julian asked as he gestured to the chair opposite her. “Oh boy, this must be something big.” Darlene sighed as Julian approached the desk, “Go ahead, sit down. What’s been going on?” Julian sat down. "I can assure you I do not have any issues with any of your employees. I haven't heard anything negative, just good things from the other departments about you and your team." "Oh good, so you’re here to offer me a raise?" She smirked, knowing that this wasn't the case. "No, I wish. DNA Pharmacia recently hired a new intern. A rather talented one that is younger than a normal hire for an intern." Julian paused as he thought about how to approach this, “A real go-getter who seems keen on making his mark. I won’t lie. We see serious potential for him in the future.” "So you want me to take on this employee in my department? Assign a mentor and train this individual. You know I don't like dealing with interns. I have resisted this in the past and will continue to do so. My department demands highly skilled and experienced people to keep this company safe from all the cyber threats out there." Darlene gave Julian a hard stare as he could see the empathic "no" about to come from her mouth. "Wait, let me talk before you say "no." It isn't what you think?" Julian quickly cut Darlene off. "I don't like where you are going with this, but I will hear you out. It’s the least I can do before saying no.” Darlene chuckled at her own humor. She picked a pen up and opened her notebook, waiting to write down notes from their conversation. Darlene always took notes of every conversation. They were there for her reference when she wanted to highlight points in a conversation or rebuttals, which would most likely be the case at the end of this conversation. "Let's put a name on this intern. His name is Avery. He has only been here for two weeks. He is a quiet individual for the most part, from what I gather from Bryan. But we had an incident with Avery this morning." Julian said. "Wait, Bryan, isn't he the Project Director for the Chemical DNA Sequencing Department? Now, I am baffled about what this Intern has to do with me. He would have no idea what to do in my department. I am sure he is an engineer or some science-y thing like that. I can bet my paycheck that he doesn’t have much experience in an IT department. Especially one like this that is so sensitive to cyber security with the constant threats it undergoes daily.” Darlene quickly injected. “Darlene, you promised you would listen, so please let me finish before you make any judgment calls.” Julian showed a little frustration. Darlene was known to draw conclusions too quickly sometimes. She was doing this right now. Julian could tell that Darlene didn’t like being called out. Julian paused till Darlene finished writing her notes down. “The rest of what I am about to tell you is strictly confidential. This information does not go past these walls.” He paused again. “OK, it will stay here. You have my word. Have you ever known me to break it?” Darlene replied sincerely. “No, I haven’t.” Julian took a deep breath, “Bryan has a Sr Technical Manager under him named John. He has quite the ego in the department. He always seems to verbally attack anyone that questions his intelligence. Bryan and I have dealt with him for years. We have tried to get him dismissed from this company many times with the CEO. However, the CEO refuses because John holds so many patents that are of prime importance to the company’s growth and future profit. Before you say anything, yes, DNA Pharmacia owns all the patents. However, the CEO sees him as critical to bringing this new custom-made DNA cancer drug to reality. I will quote our CEO. “He is the most valuable asset we have right now. He is worth more than gold, more than platinum. He is the most valuable rare earth mineral. No matter how hard the mineral is to work with it. Because it is the only mineral that makes this project a reality, end of conversation” So you see, I can not get rid of this person, and he is the biggest pain in my ass!” Darlene sees the emotion and frustration on Julian’s face. “This now brings me to Avery. Avery has managed to piss John off. Avery did nothing wrong except call John out on technical calculations. Avery did this today in John’s monthly project meeting update. During this meeting, Avery was given time to speak. When he was up at the white board being challenged. Avery got overwhelmed with John and his comrade's attacks on him, so to speak, and…” Julian hesitated. He had reported many things to HR in his career, but nothing quite like this. This was very much a one-off incident, and he wasn’t entirely sure about the best way to bring it up. In the end, he decided being bluntly honest and getting it out there was probably for the best. “Avery pissed in his pants quite literally, and it wasn’t just a little it was a lot. To make things worse. His coworkers made fun of the guy.” Darlene continued to listen to Julian and took a few more notes. She looks up to Julian. She lifted her hands up near her breast and turned her hand upwards as if saying so, what does this have to do with me? She didn’t want to interrupt Julian again. “Avery may have unknowingly outwitted John. According to Bryan and one of his younger engineers, Avery may have found a technical mathematical error in John’s fundamental calculation in less than two weeks where John and his team have been working on the problem for, I guess, about nine months.” “This gets to my request. I want you to house Avery. Just house him. He won’t be one of your direct reports. Avery may have unknowingly become as valuable as John to this company if he did solve what John and the team can’t. We need Avery to continue his work and development stress-free from ridicule. I chose you because I know you’re one person in this company who runs a department demanding respect and kindness. It is your department. I couldn’t think of a better place for him to feel safe. I will take this to the CEO if I have to, but I don’t want to.” Julian paused. He sat back, ready for her to counter this. Darlene sat there finishing up her notes. When she finished her notes, she calmly laid her pen down and looked Julian right in the eye with a dead stare. “Where is this Intern right now?” “Well, that is another problem that Bryan is working on. We don’t know exactly. He left the building in tears. We can only expect he went home. Before you ask, no, we don’t know if he will come back. But that is Bryan's job.” Julian looked back at Darlene as if they were both having a staring contest. He was trying to strike a tricky balance between a serious discussion and almost begging for Avery to be moved. He could already see that if Avery was left around everyone else, this one incident could be the start of a major problem. In Julia’s opinion, Avery was very much worth the hassle. “First, I don’t like ultimatums, so don’t do that to me again. Second, I have a spare cubical two desks away from my office. I can house him there. From here, I can see his desk at all times. My only responsibility to this intern is to make sure John doesn’t come by and talk to him. I am not going to babysit this intern. Besides, I don’t know shit about DNA stuff. I just know IT.” Darlene said sternly. “Understood, Bryan and I will have an internal restraining order on John. He can only be in his presence with Bryan or myself. No one else.” Darlene took a deep breath. “Well, you have done me a few favors in the past in getting the right personnel in my department. I know many think my team is overpaid compared to the industry, so I guess this is payment back.” Julian got up. “You can call it that. I will bring him up here Monday morning. I am going to let the poor guy take Friday off on us. It is the least I can do for him. Wish us luck in getting him to come back.” With that, Julian walked out the door. Darlene just shook her head and thought to herself. I hate corporate politics. Why do companies hold onto people who violate the company's own HR policies? No one can be that important. As she sat back in her chair, she thought about what Julian had just told him. Did a new employee really wet their pants in front of everyone? And that same employee was apparently some genius. It sounded to her like he belonged in a nursery rather than a serious office building. She had to admit she was curious, though. If he was worth the trouble, he must really be someone special.

Hey everyone! It's Sophie! Pudding and I have been writing a few short stories recently so I'm just going to post them all at once. If you like them and want to support our writing, please check out our Patreon: www.patreon.com/sophieandpudding -------------------------- A Mommy’s Love By Sophie *Author’s Note: This story is just some cute hypno diaper smut about a Mommy who takes some extra precautions to make sure her baby stays in diapers. Disclaimers: diapers, hypnosis, wetting, messing, oral sex -------------------------- I sat with my feet over Mommy’s lap, stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye. We had been watching TV for the better part of the hour, and I was starting to think things might actually be settling down. Just in time, too. Ever since she woke me up with a kiss on the forehead and a finger in the leg-band of my diaper, she had been in full-on Mommy mode. It was a fun game we liked to play; I was her baby and she would take care of me. Sometimes it was cute and innocent, and other times… well… Today, Mommy wasn’t playing around. She changed me into one of the most infantile diapers I had - with a booster for the extra thickness - and a dress with fluffy sleeves and a round collar. I tried telling her I could be a grown up, but her casual remark on the state of my diaper that morning put the argument to rest. My bedwetting was a new development. Mommy spoon-fed me breakfast and gave me a baby bottle of chocolate milk. I didn’t even complain because she never gave me chocolate milk in the mornings. Then she pushed my paci in my mouth and sat me in front of the morning cartoons while she did the dishes. After an episode or two, Mommy came back with a plan for the day: “I wanna hypnotize you.” We had done it before, and I loved playing along. It was always a lot of fun, and the thought of her controlling me was… well, I wasn’t about to say no. Unfortunately, by the end of it, I didn’t remember any particular triggers. She was just talking a lot about how much I love her, or about how much I wanted to make her happy. Then it was over. As the day went on, her teasing escalated. She took me out to lunch in my frilly party dress, where she made me say ‘pretty please’ to the waitress when ordering my food. Then we went to the grocery store, where she checked my diaper in an empty aisle with a firm press to the front of my dress. When we got back to the car, she laid me down in the back seat and changed me into a dry diaper. I knew her car windows were tinted, but it didn’t make me any less embarrassed. When we got home, everything started to settle down. We talked about ordering pizza for dinner and she put a grown up show on the TV. Every so often her hand would slide up my thigh to the front of my diaper, but the mood had changed. We were equals, or close to it. I started up a few conversations to test the waters. Every so often she would lightly tease me, like how cute I am or how well behaved I had been today, but that was normal. Even when she was just my girlfriend, she was always a little bit my mommy. Just a little bit. Another ache rumbled through my tummy and I stole another glance at Mommy. It was now or never. I took my feet off her lap and got up on my feet, crinkling with every small movement. I raised my hands above my head to stretch, flashing the seat of my diaper just a bit. She didn’t react. “I’ll be right back,” I muttered, stepping away from the sofa. “Where ya goin’?” Mommy asked without looking away from the TV. I froze in place and bit my lip. Moment of truth… “I, um… I’m gonna use the bathroom…” The second it took her to reply felt like an hour. But unexpectedly, Mommy said: “Okay. You go be an adult.” For a moment, I stood dumbfounded. I thought for sure I would have to argue with her. I would have to beg or offer something embarrassing in return. Curtsies were a recent go-to of hers, or asking in baby talk. I must have been standing there a while, because then she said: “What are you waiting for? You’re an adult, aren’t you?” “I… um…” I should have turned on my heel and hurried off to the bathroom, but I was thinking about something else. About her. About how kind she was for letting me use the bathroom at all! She didn’t have to do that. I just wished I could show her how much I appreciated her… “Go on,” she encouraged, waving her hand to shoo me away. I almost left, but then she added: “You know how to use the potty, right? All adults do.” A thought came into my mind. I knew how I could make her feel appreciated. I knew how to please her. So I took an unsteady step back toward the couch and slid down to my knees, looking up at her with bright, loving eyes. She tilted her head curiously. “Something wrong?” she asked. “Is being an adult too hard?” A tight cramp in my stomach was replaced shortly thereafter with butterflies. I reached forward with both my hands until they were hooked in the waistband of Mommy’s leggings. She lifted her butt almost instinctively, like I did when she changed my diapers, and slid her pants and panties down to her knees. Then her ankles. Adult. That word echoed in my mind. Mommy spread her knees apart and I leaned in to kiss between her thighs. Instantly, I could hear her breathing change. I could feel her hips moving ever so slightly against my face. Time slipped away from me as my tongue slipped in and out of her. Then another queasy ache filled my belly and I let out a muffled whimper. I really needed to use the potty, and Mommy seemed to read my mind. “Don’t you still have to go to the bathroom?” she asked. I nodded and pulled away, sitting upright on my heels. I looked up at Mommy with a glossy expression. I was just about to stand up when she added: “Like an adult?” I couldn’t leave her like that. I just couldn’t! I loved her so much, and I wanted her to know it. I wanted her to know how sexy she was, how important she was to me, and how much I appreciated her. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to bring her as much pleasure as she brought me. “Gosh…” Mommy moaned, my tongue between her legs. “If you can’t prioritize getting to the potty… then maybe you aren’t an adult.” I whimpered. I was an adult! I could be! But… but… “An adult would get up and use the potty,” Mommy added, quivering as she spoke. She was breathing heavily and I felt another cramp twist my stomach into knots. An adult would get up and use the potty… “Last chance,” she warned, playing with my hair as I continued to flitter my tongue between her thighs. “If you want to be an adult, go use the bathroom.” But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Being an adult, using the potty, none of that was as important as pleasing my Mommy. I wanted her to be rewarded for everything she did for me. I wanted to make her so happy. “Then you made your choice,” Mommy moaned, tugging my hair and pushing me deeper between her legs. “You aren’t an adult anymore. You’re my obedient little baby, and grown-up things are off limits to you now. No more potty. No more decisions. Your only purpose is to make Mommy happy. And if you do a very good job, Mommy will train you to love your diapers as much as you love your Mommy.” I was crouched on my hands and knees, squatting back so that my diapered butt was only barely touching the heels of my feet. Another ache churned in my stomach, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about Mommy’s moans and gasps. I was so focused on making her happy that I didn’t notice until it was too late. As Mommy’s hips spasmed and waves of pleasure flooded through her body, I began to fill the seat of my diaper. She continued to writhe and moan as I continued to mess myself, until we were both comfortable and exhausted. “Such a good baby,” Mommy whispered lazily, reaching down and pulling me up into her arms. I curled up on top of her, against her breasts, and she passively patted the seat of my diaper. Each squish made me shiver with embarrassment, but I knew it was something I would have to get used to. After all, I would never be able to use the potty again. Then Mommy started a very familiar sentence: “Let’s…” ‘Get you changed’ were the words that always followed that tone. But my hopes were dashed when she finished her thought: “Let’s get you started on that training. We have a long way to go if you’re going to love your diapers as much as you love me.” I blushed, but she was right. I would need a lot of training to love anything as much as I loved her. [End]

Nope, not for me. My gf wears diapers too and it even annoys me when she takes one of mine!

Thank you for creating a space where people are welcome as their true, authentic selves and wont be discounted.

Because of Morgan An ABDL Novella by Mina Taylor Chapter 1 My bedroom was silent, save for the buzzing of the light bulb above and the sucking of my pink butterfly pacifier. Gone was the blasé yellow flower comforter Mom had bought me when I moved back in after college, replaced with a far more appropriate slick pink Disney Princess cover, topped with my rosy pink baby blanket with my name stitched into it, encircled with a white lace heart. My stuffed bunny, Abba, rest comfortably in my arms while I stretched and smiled at the crinkle of the diaper around my waist. All my books had been taken down and put into storage. My hope chest had been covered with a plastic mat with bottles of baby powder and oil at the foot, with a large pack of diapers and an even larger box of scented baby wipes. I smiled as I snuggled into my bed, covered by the weight of the two blankets and turned on the TV to something suitable for a little girl of my age. I smiled as I saw my parent’s cable subscription included Noggin. To think there was ever a time where there wasn’t a channel dedicated to programming for toddlers! I giggled as I pulled my paci out and reached over to my dresser, where a fresh bottle of apple juice was waiting for me. Eagerly, I thrust the rubber nipple into my mouth and nursed thirstily as I babbled back at Dora the answers to the questions she was asking me. I was so excited to help her and Boots go on an adventure! I was even more excited when I felt a warm pressure at my bladder. Relaxing as best I could, fighting twenty years of potty training to the utmost, I managed to get a few drops into my waiting diaper before I was finally able to force the floodgates wide open. Agu! I thought to myself, imaging myself to be almost two years old, getting better at speaking but still resorting to baby talk. Mommy, daddy, pee pee! Holly uhoh! Changie me! I grinned and blushed around my bottle, nearly reaching adult baby nirvana, when I heard the first creak. The bottle popped out of my mouth as I sat up in bed. The panic set in when I heard the door upstairs close. My heart pounded like a jackhammer against my chest as I scrambled out of bed, tearing off the comforter and my baby blanket and stuffing it into the cardboard box at the foot of the bed where I had been hiding them. My parents had been gone for almost two hours on their way to Kansas City, and knowing my dad, he would not have forgotten anything. Even if he had, he would just buy what he forgot when they arrived. I gasped as I put the half-empty bottle of juice and the pacifier on top and twisted my body around, searching for my sweatpants. “Holly?” I heard my sister Morgan calling from upstairs, the sound of her feet pacing casually across the kitchen floor, right above my basement bedroom. “I saw your car outside. Are you home?” Crap! I recalled, remembering how I forgot to put my car in the garage after Mom and Dad left, too excited to think of anything else other than my 72-hour getaway of being a baby again. Morgan wasn’t supposed to know I was still here, and Morgan wasn’t supposed to be here. She was going to Wisconsin Dells with her boyfriend. They were supposed to have left tonight. Don’t tell me… “I’m here,” I managed to call out, having more than 75% of the incriminating evidence put away. “What happened to your weekend with Travis?” “Travis got stuck working. One of his co-workers had appendicitis and they needed him to come in this weekend, so we decided to reschedule.” Shit. “So…” I panted, shoving all my diapering supplies into the hope chest and pushing the large box of wipes, too big for the inside, into the closet. “You’re staying here this weekend?” “I don’t know,” she answered, honestly to my annoyance. I pulled both ponytail holders I had used to put my medium brunette hair up into pigtails out of my hair, letting it down as I struggled to find a clean shirt. “Are you downstairs?” I heard the basement door open as my heart leapt higher than I had felt it leap before. “Don’t come down!” I shouted in a panic. Immediately, I realized anything else would have been better to say, but Morgan’s curiosity was piqued, and that meant bad things for me. “Why?” she asked as I heard her feet coming down the stairs. I panicked, looking for the Febreeze to cover up any babyish smells that may have already filled my room to no avail. Quickly, I came out of my room, turned on the light in the main den just outside and went to greet my sister. “I was just on my way up,” I tried to explain. “Okay,” she answered, but didn’t sound like she believed me. My little sister Morgan was far more perceptive than my parents and I needed to get her out of the house as soon as possible. I had been waiting for a month for this. With everyone gone, I was finally going to be able to indulge in my little self, and here was Morgan, as always, ready to completely ruin my plans. It wasn’t that I hated Morgan. She was my sister after all, but I couldn’t help but think of all the times my life would be easier if she wasn’t my sister. Only being two years younger than me, there was such a little gap in our ages that the whole “big sister, little sister” thing never happened and we weren’t twins. It was awkward. I was into nerdy things like cartoons and fantasy books, and she was into the things most girls liked. We never shared clothes or makeup, never liked the same boys… she had well-kept honey blonde hair and flawless skin, and I don’t even want to talk about her boobs… It goes to say Morgan was my sister in name only, but name only was all Morgan needed to make my life miserable. I never tried to compare myself to her, but she always made sure to let me know when she did something better than me or when she did something before me. I always took it in stride, congratulating her on her various achievements despite how much I wanted to scream and tell her what I really thought of her arrogant attitude over me, and I could only imagine the things she would say if she found me in a diaper of all things tonight. I could not, I would not let that happen. As I made it to the top of the stairs, Morgan was getting a Diet Coke from the fridge. Of course, she didn’t ask me if I wanted one. I sat down in one of the tall chairs at the granite kitchen island as my sister took a seat at the table, grabbing the remote and turning on MTV. “So what are your plans tonight?” she asked. I resisted the urge to strangle her then and there for interrupting them, but held back. It was a blessing she didn’t know. “Just hanging around the house?” “Yeah,” I replied, not feeling any need to follow up. “Callie said she’s going to the movies, so I think I’ll go too,” she announced. I kept myself in check, careful not to celebrate just yet, but my urge to get her out of the house could not be contained. “Going soon then?” I asked, hoping for a yes. “In about an hour,” she replied, hunched over the table. “I’m going to watch Teen Mom first.” Oh god no, I thought as I searched for one of Mom’s tabloid magazines on the island. I already couldn’t stand MTV, but a show about young moms taking care of their babies would drive me up the wall tonight as I stewed in my sodden diaper, becoming colder by the second. The number of worries I had just continued to pile up as Morgan sat there without a care in the world. “You watch this show, Holly?” Morgan asked. “Oh wait, it’s not a cartoon so probably not.” “I’ve seen it,” I lied. “Once or twice.” “Really?” Morgan became curious. “Since when do you watch MTV?” “It makes for good background noise when I’m reading,” I admitted. That wasn’t a lie. Stupid television shows really did make it easy to focus on whatever book I was reading. “Oh,” Morgan replied, sounding disappointed. Of course she would be. It was just one more thing that made us as different as night and day. I kept quiet, focusing on reading trashy celebrity gossip as Morgan watched her show intently and I did my best not to pay attention. The growing irritation of my diaper was taking up most of my focus anyway. I was doing pretty good, holding my focus and bearing with the growing cold and irritation of my wet diaper until about fifteen minutes before Morgan was getting ready to leave. She got up from the table to put her coke can in the recycling bin outside, stopping just inches from me. I looked at her as she paused and turned to me, quizzically. Her nostrils flared as my eyes got wide. “What is that?” she said aloud. “Do you smell that?” “Smell what?” I played dumb. It was all I could do as I prayed my face was not flushing red at that very moment. “It smells like a diaper,” she said. Her voice carried a welcome sense of disbelief. I laughed, remembering my sister’s job at the daycare down the street she had been working at while going for her education degree. “Maybe you’ve just smelled so many dirty diapers, the smell is ingrained in your nose.” “Oh god,” Morgan hit me, not too hard but hard enough. “Don’t even joke about that. You have no idea what it’s like.” You wanna bet? I thought with a little smirk as she made her way outside with the empty soda can. She walked back inside, smelling my wet diaper again, but choosing to ignore it. I sighed a little bit as she went over to the couch to finish her show. With relief, she got up to get ready to meet her friend at the movies as soon as it was over. Making sure she had her keys, I played the dutiful big sister. “Do you have everything you need?” I asked as she looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she answered with a bit of a snap. “I’m not like you, always forgetting something.” I smirked again. No fights tonight. Just have to get her out of the house and back to my downstairs paradise. I wasn’t about to blow this now, not when I was so close to being alone again, just me and my infantile thoughts. “Have a good time,” I managed to call out as she went out the front door. Morgan didn’t respond as she closed the door. She didn’t need to respond though. Her absence was the sweetest music to my ears. My diaper was already beginning to itch as I headed back downstairs to my room, pulling out all my supplies and redressing the hope chest. Dropping my sweatpants and taking off my shirt, letting my small breasts out. For a moment, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to calm down as I spread the plastic mat over the chest. Grabbing my paci from the cardboard box I stored it in, I popped it in my mouth, nursing rhythmically on it as I lay down and spread my legs, reaching on each side to untape my crinkling wet diaper decorated with teddy bears and balloons. As the cool air rushed into my smothered nether regions, I whimpered as I pulled the front of the diaper forward, allowing my bare privates to embrace the refreshing open space. I closed my eyes, imagining someone that I could exactly see, but whose presence comforted me. I couldn’t decide if it was a man or a woman, mommy or daddy, picking up my legs as I lifted them myself. I strained down beneath me, opening the first of the many soft plastic packs of baby wipes I had bought as I pulled out the first one. Ceremoniously, I draped the tip of it over my nose and took in its scent. I can’t remember a day in my life where the sight, the smell, or even the thought of baby wipes did not put my brain on lockdown. It’s an obsession that I’ve lived for as long as I can remember living, but I’ve never been able to figure out why. It would have made my life a lot easier if I didn’t. Taking in that intoxicatingly powerful and fresh scent made my whole body tingle, like inhaling a drug. It was because of those moist scented little cloths that I was this way, that I became an adult baby, and that I craved to be diapered and bottle-fed and put in a crib. It was a fate I had resigned myself to many years ago after fighting against it for so long. In fact, tonight was the first night I was fully indulging in these desires, acting like I was less than two for the first time since I was less than two. I giggled a little to myself around my pacifier, nursing happily as I dropped the baby wipe over my face so it was all I could smell. Reaching down with a trembling hand beneath me, I grabbed another wipe and began to gently rub it on my left nipple, then my right, trailing it down my tummy and under my love handles, which made me squirm and twitch with pleasure with its feather-soft touch. “Holly, I…” The wipe fluttered down from my face over my vagina as I sat up on the hope chest, twisting my head at the bedroom door so quickly I’m surprised I didn’t break my neck in the process. My eyes widened, unable to blink as my mouth hung just slightly open, looking over at the door, and seeing Morgan standing at the entrance to my room in full sight of my infantile self. Chapter 2 It’s true what they say, that the things you fear happening the most will happen at the very moment you least suspect them to happen. I expected Mom would walk in on me one night with a pacifier in my mouth, or might find my diapers while I was out looking for a job. This was not on my list of predictions. This wasn’t even something I had ever considered happening, and it was for this very reason that when my eyes met Morgan’s that my mind froze up as I sat there, naked and smelling like a baby, unable to move, unable to scream. It didn’t seem I was alone in the matter either. Morgan too was standing in the doorway, standing perfectly still. Her eyes were widened and her brow bent, looking as though she was struggling to comprehend what she had just walked in on, if she should say anything, or if she should just leave. “I…” Morgan spoke, stopping, as if she was having trouble remembering how to speak. “I just… I’m low on money for gas, and was wondering… I wanted to ask…” It seemed as she found her capacity to speak, she always found her capacity to move. Quickly, she took a step back, and then another. I realized she was going to leave. My own brain kicked into gear at that time, and the first thing it told me was she can’t leave. I didn’t even think of the consequences of my actions as I got up off the hope chest as Morgan broke into a full run towards the staircase back to the main floor and out of the house. Naked as the day I was born, I charged out of my room after her, latching on firmly to the staircase handle as I used my momentum to catapult myself around and up the staircase, launching myself at Morgan and grabbing her legs with desperate hands. We both fell face-first onto the carpeted steps, the sound of us falling making such a loud booming sound I thought people well outside the house may have heard it. Morgan immediately began to kick at my face. “Let me go!” she screamed over and over again. “Get away from me!” “I can’t!” I cried, half from the pain of being kicked and half from the terror that had finally surfaced in the realization that I had been caught. “I won’t! You can’t go! I won’t let you!” I threw my body around her legs, dragging her back down the stairs as she clawed at the stairs and walls. By this point, and rightfully so, Morgan was really scared. Maybe if I had been calmer about things, things would have gone better, but I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was what my instincts were telling me and make sure she didn’t tell anyone. I got on top of her, holding her down as she kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Get off me, you freak! Help! Someone help!” My hands tightened around her wrists as I looked down on her, screaming in horror at the actions I had taken. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in her mind. I was too afraid of what I was seeing in my mind if I let her go. It became too much for me, to see my sister like this at my hands and to feel the way I did from her finding me indulging in my adult baby state, I finally snapped and broke down. She kneed me in the stomach as I feel over on top of her, crying loudly with big ugly tears gushing from the corners of my eyes, leaving scalding trails down my cheeks. I moaned and wailed as I reached out to her in futility, realizing I couldn’t silence my sister and that I wouldn’t be able to stop her from telling anyone she pleased. I curled up in a ball, assuming my short life, as I knew it, was done and over. Morgan gathered herself, visibly shaken as she hurried for the staircase. “Please!” I wailed in desperation. “You can’t! You can’t tell anyone! You might as well kill me!” “Is that what you were going to do to me?” she screeched back. I winced from the sound and the sting of her words. “I’m sorry,” I bawled. “I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t know what to do,” I choked out through my sobs and stilted breathing. “I was scared. I was terrified. If anyone found out, I was dead. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Morgan paused halfway up the staircase, neither taking a step back down or a step towards the ground floor. She simply looked down on my, eyes narrowed, judging me, condemning me. “You just what?” she asked in a demanding tone, so calm and collected it shook me deeply. “You just what, Holly?” “I can’t help it,” I tried to find the words to explain, words I had no intention of saying to anyone ever face to face, surfacing through my blubbering as I looked up at Morgan with swollen, puffy eyes. “I can’t… I’ve always been like this. I’ve always wanted this, for as long as I can remember. I would have given anything to stop, to forget wanting this, but I wasn’t strong enough on my own, and I couldn’t tell anyone. I was too scared. I still am.” “And that makes you think you can…” Morgan tried to respond, her voice lording over me, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand to hear her self-righteous holier-than-thou tone for one more second. “It doesn’t!” I screamed. “But it’s all I have and I can’t let you take it from me! I’m nine months out of college and I have no job! I had to move in with Mom and Dad! I have no boyfriend! I have to borrow money from Mom and Dad to go anywhere and do anything! I have no life! This is all I have, Morgan! This is the only thing I have left that makes me happy and you were going to take it from me, like you always do!” “I don’t always…” she tried to go on in the same tone. Again, I silenced her with my own voice, louder and more demanding as I banged on the basement floor in my vulnerable state. “You do! You always do!” I shouted, my tears dripping onto the carpet. “You always tell me about how much better off you are than me! About how you’re working to be ready for a job when you’re done with college! About how I was stupid to get a liberal arts degree! About how you have a boyfriend! About how you have more money, and a nicer car, and your own apartment! About all your friends! About your perfect fucking life! Well, this is it, Morgan! This is the best thing in my life! This is what I am now… so go ahead… now that you know, go ahead - make sure everyone knows that you are better than me in every single way… it’s what you’ve always wanted.” My face was cherry red, my heart pulsing harder than ever, snot dripping from my nose and the tears still coming. I could feel my body giving out as I collapsed on the floor in a pile of despair as Morgan went back up the stairs. Curling my knees to my chest, I wished to wake up, to find it was all a dream, crying until I woke up, only to find that when I closed my eyes, that’s when the real nightmare began. I looked down on myself, exposed, diapered with a comically large baby big around my neck with the words “Little Stinker” typed onto it, sucking on a pacifier that I could seem to reach to take out of my mouth. I was on a chain, unable to see who was leading me as I passed all my family and friends who stared at me in mixed reactions ranging from unbelieving laughter to shock and horror. As I was walked along by the chain, I found myself messing the diaper, seeing stench lines spread out to my captive audience, signaling for them to demean and disown me of my humanity and Morgan, front and center, smiling with satisfaction. “Holly,” I heard her speak as the nightmare began to warp and distort, falling into black. “Holly… Holly…” “Holly,” I heard to voice clearer as I felt the light poke of a finger digging into the back of my shoulder. “Holly, wake up.” I groaned as I rolled over, looking through blurry, crusted eyes as Morgan quickly stepped back, as if she had been waking a sleeping lion. “Hm? What?” “Get dressed and come upstairs,” she said, retreating up the staircase. “We need to talk.” A deep, dark feeling sank in my chest. My arms trembled as I struggled to push myself off the carpet. Stumbling to my bedroom, following the pale yellow light through the darkness, I managed to find my sweatpants and the same clean shirt I had worn earlier this evening. Slipping into them, I made my way up the stairs, feeling as though I was climbing the steps of an hangman’s platform towards a waiting noose. I squeezed my eyes shut as I made my way to the top, looking past the kitchen at the clock to see what time it was. My eyes and my body still hurt, but I was able to squint enough that I could see it was only 10:30. Morgan was leaving at 9:00, which meant only an hour, 90 minutes at most, had passed. Did she not go to the movie? Had she been here the whole time? “Over here,” she called out to me from the living room, sitting in a dark green upholstered chair. She pointed towards the dark brown couch near her, ushering me to take a seat. I did as I was told, having calmed down and realizing my fate now lied in my younger sister’s hands. Morgan sat on the chair, wrenching her hands, tensing as I approached her and took a seat. I didn’t blame her. I felt terrible for how I reacted and I knew there was no way I could ever fully apologize for what I did. Morgan sat there for a few minutes, struggling to say something. I thought of opening my mouth, but I had already said everything I wanted and needed to say already. “What exactly did I walk in on down there?” she began, spitting it out forcibly, as if it was something she needed to get out there at any cost. I retracted at the question. Did she not see what I had been doing? All the paraphernalia I was surrounded by? How could she have thought of anything else? “You saw,” I answered. “You already know.” “I want to hear it from you, word for word, exactly what I saw.” “I can’t…” the words fell out before I could stop them, coming out of pure reaction before Morgan interrupted me loudly. “Holly, tell me now, or I will tell Mom and Dad.” My heart leapt, only for a moment, at the possibility that Morgan hadn’t told anyone yet, but knowing there were conditions to that possibility tugged at my chest painfully. For as nervous as I had been at making sure no one found out, the fact Morgan knew made things even harder. I had to say something. “I was changing my diaper, sucking on my pacifier, and touching myself with baby wipes.” Morgan paused for a moment, having to comprehend exactly what I had just said. “Why were you wearing a diaper?” “Because…” I winced with fresh tears ready to burst. “Because I’m an adult baby. I’m an adult who likes to act like a baby. It makes me feel happy. You were supposed to be gone this weekend and I was already in a diaper when you got here. I didn’t expect you to be here, or anyone for that matter. It was just supposed to be me. No one was supposed to see.” “And you’re embarrassed by this?” “What the hell do you think?” I cried, rising off the couch before I was stopped with a simple utterance of my name. “Holly!” Morgan shouted in a loud, commanding voice, as if she were my own mother. “You won’t talk to me like that again. Answer the question.” “Yes,” I said in a very small voice. “I’ve always been embarrassed by it. It’s who I am and I can’t let anyone know. I can’t imagine what they would say or do. I don’t want to.” “What do you think now that I know?” “I don’t know what to think,” I answered, trying to keep as calm as possible and failing. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me, interrogating me like this. I don’t care if you do or don’t understand. You never even loved me, you never even tried, so what do you care now? Just go. I don’t even care anymore.” I was waiting for Morgan to answer with some haughty remark about how much it means to me now that she knows, but she remained silent for a long time, staring down at her hands rather than me. My eyes remained fixated on her, waiting for her to bite back like always. As the minutes passed, Morgan did finally react, standing up, ending our brief conversation. I was prepared for her to leave and let me stew in anticipation for the end of my normal life, but I jumped as she took my hand and pulled me upright off the couch. “Come on,” she asked, devoid of any real emotion. “We’re going downstairs.” “For what?” I fought back, pulling my hand away. “So you can humiliate me more? So you can lord over me how much better you are than me?” “Do you want to be a baby this weekend or not?” Did I… did she just ask me what I think she asked me? No, no that couldn’t have happened. My mind raced as I felt my hand taken by Morgan as I was led in my stupor back down into the basement back into my bedroom. Morgan let go of my hand and looked around the room, her arms crossed over her abdomen. “Show me everything,” she commanded sharply. “Like what?” I asked, not understand the command. “Everything,” she repeated again, enunciating the word pointedly. “All the baby things you bought for this weekend for you. I want to see all of it.” “Why do I have to…?” “Holly, you are in no place to talk back to me right now,” Morgan responded, again with the voice that was not condescending but rather authoritative, talking to me as though I was a child… or more like… “Holly, I don’t have all day.” Like a baby. I looked at Morgan, grimacing and seeking mercy only to find none from her stern gaze. I couldn’t risk her telling anyone so I did as I was told, taking out everything until I had a sizeable pile of various infant accessories spread across the bedroom floor; my Disney Princess bed sheet set, my baby blanket, a white plastic changing mat, a full pack of Bambinos minus the one I had used tonight, a box full of several packs of scented baby wipes, lavender-scented baby powder, baby lotion, baby oil, baby bath, baby shampoo, bath toys, teething rings, a rattle, building blocks, a pink bib that read “I’m An Angel”, a mint green baby bottle, and my treasured butterfly-shaped pacifier. Morgan looked upon my collection, her hazel eyes widening with a sense of being impressed and surprised. “That’s everything?” “That’s everything,” I sighed, collapsing behind my decent-sized pile of shame. “Okay, that should be enough,” Morgan said, picking up the plastic changing mat and carrying it into the main room of the basement, laying it on the black leather ottoman next to the couch. “Come on, over here.” “What are you going to do with that?” I asked, following her into the main room. She patted the mat twice, looking in my direction. The signal was not lost on me, but the command wasn’t one I was going to follow. “Are you kidding me?” “Get over here, Holly. Don’t make me ask you again.” “You’re not serious,” I stated clearly. “You can’t be serious.” “Holly Elizabeth Decker,” she spoke to me in a manner that made me know that without any room for second-guessing exactly what she wanted me to do. “Lay down over here right now or I won’t be the only person who knows about what you’ve been doing with the money Mom and Dad have been giving you each month.” Oh dear God, my mind screamed as I took slow, tentative steps in Morgan’s direction. She waited for me patiently as I made my way over to her. She looked at me as I stood in front of her, fully clothed, with a look of disbelief. I gasped in realization but Morgan was faster, taking full responsibility for my undressing, urging me to lie down naked on the cold plastic mat as she went back to my bedroom, coming back with powder and a clean diaper. “So here’s what’s going to happen. How much did Mom and Dad give you this month?” Morgan asked, looking at me and expecting a quick reply. “Three hundred,” I responded, to which Morgan had to keep from laughing. The idea that my unemployed self, who didn’t have to pay rent or for food, who spent most days looking for a job, would need so much money was ridiculous to her. “I want two hundred.” “You’re blackmailing me?” I sat up quickly, but found myself quickly pushed back down as she diligently lifted my legs by my ankles and put the diaper underneath me. “That’s my money!” “Babies don’t need money,” she explained as she unscrewed the cap on the powder bottle and applied the snowy dust liberally to my bottom. “And babies don’t take care of themselves. If I don’t watch you, who knows what you’ll end up doing without anyone to stop you. Until Sunday when Mom and Dad get back, you are going to do everything I tell you to do and you’re not going to give me any lip. If you don’t do as you’re told, you’ll be punished. If you keep it up, then I will tell everyone about what you’ve been doing in secret with your parents’ money. As long as you do as you’re told, no one will know about tonight except you and me. Are we understood?” “What if…?” “We aren’t negotiating any of this. You attacked me. That’s illegal and I have the right to go to the cops. I know you didn’t mean it but I’m still within my rights, and unless you agree, that’s what I’m going to do,” Morgan stated clearly as she taped me snug into my new diaper, clean and dry and smelling of baby powder. “Are we understood?” I paused, unsure if I should say yes or no, knowing the consequences of each wasn’t weighing heavily in my favor either way. “Can I ask why?” “Because you’re my sister,” Morgan answered, pursing her lips anxiously. “And because no matter what you think about me, I don’t hate you and I wouldn’t try to hurt you. So, yes or no?” I looked at my sister anxiously, unsure if I could really trust her after everything I knew about the twenty years I had spent with her on this earth, but if she was telling the truth, if she was really going to look out for me, I had to take that chance over the alternative. I nodded softly as she took my hand with a small smirk, maybe even half a smile, as she led me back to my room and had me lay down on my bed, tucking me tight into my Disney Princess bed sheets and covering me with my baby blanket. “It’s past your bedtime,” Morgan told me teasingly. “Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned off the light and I winced, remembering I had forgotten my teddy bear nightlight. I didn’t have the heart to ask her to get it out of its hiding place in my dresser drawer. As darkness fell around me, I fell into a restless sleep. It seemed I was going to get my weekend of being a baby after all, but I was going to be treated like one as well. Chapter 3 It feels like it’s been an eternity since I last saw the sun. Having laid in bed all night spending equal times awake and asleep, I began to doubt the sun was ever going to rise again. Sure enough, a wave of indigo light surfaced from the darkness, yielding to a morning I had begun to doubt was coming. I squirmed beneath my covers, feeling the soft, cushiony material of my diaper bunch up around my thighs, urging me to remember the events of last night. I threw my baby blanket over my head, trying to blot out the steadily rising sun and push away the reality the morning would bring. Maybe she left, I curled up tightly on the bed, fearing the worst. Maybe she just said all those things so she would have a chance to leave. I wouldn’t blame her. It was in this thinking that I was startled by the sounds of footsteps above me in the kitchen. Morgan was still here, and from the sounds of pans being taken out and her pacing the kitchen, it sounded like she was busy making breakfast. I held the blanket tighter over my head. I didn’t want to believe that my sister could ever care about me, when she had never shown any sign of caring about me up until now. Why was she really doing this? Blackmail? Pity? My mind raced to find Morgan’s ulterior motive for agreeing to “babysit” me for the weekend as I heard her footsteps echoing down the basement staircase. Within moments, she was at my door. I closed my eyes, wanting her to think I was and had been asleep all night long. Lifting the blanket from over my head, I made sure to remain perfectly still, budging only when she gently nudged me with her hand. “Good morning, Holly,” she welcomed me back to the waking world with an active smile, or at least that’s what I think I saw. I may have still been dreaming. “Up and at’em, sleepyhead.” I grumbled and grabbed the blanket over my head. “No,” I fought back. “Five more minutes.” “We have a busy day, Holly,” Morgan announced, no change at all in her pleasant morning tone. “We can’t have you sleeping all day. Rise and shine.” I held tight to my baby blanket, so Morgan grabbed my bed sheets and ripped them off with one strong fluid motion. I whimpered, curling up and finding what salvation I could in my blankie while Morgan sat on the bed, shaking me again by the shoulder. “Holly, don’t be difficult,” Morgan sighed, grabbing me from under the shoulder and pulling me into an upright position. “Now get up, I need to check your diaper.” “It’s dry,” I yawned, standing up. This did not deter Morgan at all as she grabbed the front of my diaper and pulled it back with the waist of my sweatpants and looked inside. I blushed, taken aback by the complete lack of privacy I had as Morgan did the same in the back, letting go of the waist of my diaper and pants with a muffled snap. “So you are,” she concluded, patting me on the butt. “Good girl staying dry all night. Now let’s go upstairs for breakfast.” Morgan did not miss a beat as she corralled me towards the staircase. Her tone, her body language, and her choice of words… she really was treating me as if I were actually a baby. It conflicted me the way she was treating me; part of me wanted to tell her to stop, but another part of me, the part of me I wanted to embrace this weekend, was compliant and willful to do as her babysitter told her. Morgan remained pleasant in the face of my compliance as she took my hand and helped me up the stairs. I tried to take them at my normal pace, but Morgan held tightly to my hand. As I moved, I nearly pulled her back down again, but this time Morgan was ready, hand firmly planted on the railing. She looked at me with playful exasperation. “Now, Holly, if you run, you might fall. Hold my hand and we’ll go up the stairs together.” I smiled a little, doing as I was told as Morgan called out “left foot, right foot” over and over as we walked up the staircase, hand in hand. The sound of my diaper crinkling echoed up and down the narrow staircase with every step I took, serving as a constant reminder of my place, but Morgan’s hand, holding mine gently, guiding me until we reached the ground floor and the kitchen somehow managed to put me at ease and make me feel okay. It was like the Morgan I knew had become someone completely different overnight. “Sit down and I’ll get you a plate,” she told me as I dutifully obeyed, sitting down at the head of the table near the patio door. I looked to my right into the living room, seeing Strawberry Shortcake on the TV. I looked at Morgan, completely disinterested with the cartoon, before I turned back in active interest. As the show moved into commercials, Morgan brought me a small plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of milk in one of my old sippy cups. I guessed that somehow it must have managed to stay in the cupboard all these years, but my attention was quickly drawn to the utensil she had got for me. “Does Holly want to feed herself like a big girl or let Miss Morgan feed her?” Morgan asked me, pinching a small white spoon with an airplane-shaped handle. Its age showed in the fading color of the red, yellow, and blue windows on the plane, but the sight made me twinge with nostalgia. It was already too much to see Morgan found the relic of my infancy, but to be fed with it was too much for me. “I’ll feed myself,” I replied softly, taking the spoon and examining it, hardly believing it was real. First, Morgan found the sippy cup and now the airplane fork. How many other reminders of my toddler years did my parents keep? Pinching the small utensil between my thumb and forefinger, I dipped the spoon into the fluffy white eggs. Morgan watched intently and couldn’t help but comment. “My, someone knows how to hold her spoon like a big girl too! Are you really a baby, Holly, or are you just pretending?” I looked at my sister, reading the knowing look in her eyes and her sly smile. She was testing me. I could tell she intended to treat me like a baby to the fullest, but did she really intend for me to act like a baby to the fullest? I added these questions to the already sizeable pile in the back of my head about her motivations, doubting I would get any answers anytime soon. I hesitated with the spoon, pinched between my fingers, gulping as I looked at Morgan with uncertainty. Widening her eyes a little, she motioned with her gaze towards my breakfast, but I felt too self-conscious to eat like this, placing the spoon down on the table, Morgan reached out. “Well, if Holly doesn’t want to do it herself, Miss Morgan can make sure…” “No,” I said with a small but defiant voice, like a toddler asserting her independence to be a big kid, even though she really wasn’t. “I can do it.” Morgan watched intently as I reached down again, this time grasping the airplane spoon with my whole hand, scooping up eggs like a shovel. I avoided Morgan’s stare as I leaned in close to scoop each little bit of eggs into my mouth. “Good girl,” she said encouragingly. “I’m going to go clean up so you be good and don’t make a mess. I want to see a clean plate, little missy.” I blushed at her term for me, reassuring me of my role as I continued to eat. Not that Morgan was a terrible cook, but the eggs tasted a bit overdone. I tried to solve the problem with my sippy cup, of which I did not have nearly the same problems drinking as I did with eating with the airplane spoon. It was similar to my baby bottle, but the milk eventually ran out, leaving me with just the dry eggs. I got up to go to the refrigerator to get some ketchup, only to stop at the sound of another scolding. “Excuse me,” Morgan’s voice rang out loud and clear for me to hear. “Did you need something, Holly?” “I was just getting some ketchup,” I tried to explain as Morgan walked over in my direction, taking my hand and leading me away from the refrigerator. “Hey, what gives?” “The refrigerator’s off limits,” Morgan explained, helping me back into my chair. Once I was properly seated and pushed in for good measure, Morgan went to the refrigerator and came back with the ketchup. “I can do that myself,” I asserted myself as she opened the cap on the ketchup bottle. “Really?” she asked, feigning surprise. “None of the two-year-olds I work with can handle squirting their own ketchup without making a mess.” “I’m not two,” I replied, to which Morgan looked at me, smirking as she squirted the sweet red sauce over my eggs, not even letting me do it myself. “Yes,” she corrected me, putting the cap back on the ketchup bottle. “Yes you are, Holly. Now hurry up and finish your breakfast while I finish cleaning up.” Morgan’s words stuck with me as I returned to my breakfast. I really was going to get the full toddler experience. Once again, I attempted to navigate the airplane spoon, only to get more and more frustrated with just the tiny pieces I could get into my mouth. Fed up, I got closer to my plate, sloppily shoveling my breakfast into my mouth as Morgan cleaned up the pans and counters. “Holly!” she called out to me halfway through my meal. “What did I tell you?” Realizing how close I was too my breakfast, I pulled away to see I had spilled a good portion of eggs on the table and my face was covered with bits of egg and smears of ketchup. Hands on her hips, Morgan looked at me with fake surprise, as if she had expected this to happen. “You hold still while I get your bib. No more messes!” I sat perfectly still where I was, feeling very small from my scolding as Morgan went downstairs and came up with my bib and a pack of baby wipes. Without dropping a beat, she pulled and tied the loose pink strings until the velvety fabric of the bib came up around my neck, knotting them with a big bow. “I knew you weren’t a big girl, Holly, but that’s okay. We’re gonna make sure you eat all your yummy eggs and then we’ll clean you up, okay?” I couldn’t even respond as Morgan hurriedly dipped the airplane spoon into my breakfast and pulled out a bite, holding it out towards my mouth. “Open wide,” she asked of me, circling the airplane around my mouth. “The airplane’s coming in for a landing.” I hesitated, but Morgan continued to prompt me until I finally opened my mouth and she landed the airplane in the hanger. The force of having the spoon put inside my mouth by someone else was both uncomfortable and humiliating. The first bite did not go as planned, as I spit it out when Morgan pulled the spoon out before I even had a moment to react. “Holly, be good,” she warned me. “No more messes. Eat your breakfast.” Having a better idea of what was coming did not make it any more comfortable, but I was able to react faster, taking in the food before Morgan could pull the spoon out. It became like a rhythm after a while. In goes the spoon, close my mouth, eat, out goes the spoon, chew, in goes the spoon, close my mouth, eat, out goes the spoon… As soon as I finally felt comfortable with the rhythm, Morgan suddenly put the spoon down and began clapping her hands happily. I clapped my hands too, though I wasn’t sure why we were clapping. “Yay, you did it!” Morgan cheered. “Clean plate! Good girl, Holly! Now let’s get that icky face clean too.” I looked at my plate to see it really was clean, before Morgan fetched a baby wipe from the pack and smothered my face with it. Despite how good it smelled and was making my face smell, the pressure of Morgan’s hand scrubbing my cheeks and mouth clean made me squirm and wince as I struggled in my chair. “I know, I know, but we’re almost done,” Morgan said, wiping daintily at the corners of my lips. “There we go, what a pretty clean baby you are!” I spit a little bit, the soapy taste of wipes on my lips as Morgan pulled out my chair and helped me up, whether I needed the help or not. She faked grunting as she helped me stand up. “Oof, you’re heavy. How much did you eat, Holly?” “Morgan,” I finally sighed out loud. “You don’t have to go this far. I don’t need…” “Miss Morgan,” Morgan corrected me, putting a finger on my lips. “And yes, I do need to go this far. This is what we agreed on, right? You’re a little two-year-old who still wears diapers and needs to be looked after, and I’m the one looking after you. That means doing as you are told and addressing me with respect, the same I would ask of any of the other toddlers I look after. Now, come on, we need to get you dressed so we can run errands.” “Errands?” I repeated, pulling away from her. “Oh no, no no no, that’s not happening. I am not going out like this and you can’t make me.” Morgan put her hands on her hips, speaking to me as if she were trying to reason with a small child. “Holly, I can’t leave you here by yourself. Are you going to be a good girl and come downstairs with Miss Morgan to get dressed or are you going to throw a fit?” “I’m not going!” I stomped my foot on the floor so hard it made the plates on the table rattle. I stared Morgan down, daring her to do something. If she wanted to treat me like I was two, I would act like I was two. What I didn’t anticipate was Morgan’s reaction. She was willing to punish me like I was two. “Holly, do you need a time out?” Morgan said in a low, threatening voice. “But you just said you had errands,” I argued. “You don’t have time to put me in time out and get your errands done.” “No, I’ll have time,” Morgan affirmed, staring me down with a knowing gaze. “What I won’t have time for is finding you clean clothes that hide your diaper bulge, so you’ll just have to wear whatever I find, whether people can see you’re wearing a diaper underneath or not. Now then, Miss Sassy Pants, I’ll ask you one more time, are you going to be a good girl and come with Miss Morgan or are we going to have to put you in time out?” I couldn’t tell if Morgan was just playing the role of the caretaker, if she was enjoying her place of power over me, or both. I felt so small in front of her as I shrank back, looking down at my toes, afraid to look Morgan in the eye. “Well, missy,” Morgan pushed me to answer. “What’s it going to be?” I fiddled with my hands behind my back, turning my ahead away and answering in a very soft and small voice; “…’ll gu.” “What was that?” “I’ll go,” I said, wincing and ready to cry. “I’ll go. I’ll be a good girl. Just make sure no one can see my… my…” “Your diaper?” Morgan emphasized, making me blush in embarrassment. I could only nod as I took her hand as she led me back downstairs in the same careful motions she had walked me up the stairs before. Still holding my hand, she took me into my room and began to look through my dresser and my closet. “Let’s see, let’s see,” she said allowed as she dug through my clothes. Everything was too tight, so Morgan took out a pair of purple jogging pants. “How about this and a loose T-shirt?” Morgan offered “Are you kidding?” I stifled a laugh. “I’ll look so dumpy.” “Would you rather advertise your pampered butt wherever I need to go?” Morgan raised an eye towards me. I blushed, looking away again. “T-shirt’s fine…” “That’s what I thought,” Morgan acknowledged, walking over to me with the shirt, white with purple and blue flowers spackled across the front, placing it and the sweatpants on my bed. “Arms up.” I obeyed, lifting my arms as Morgan pulled my shirt off over my head, then went for my pants, pulling them down in one sharp motion. “Step out,” she commanded as I stepped back out of the leg holes, careful not to trip. “Good girl,” Morgan praised me as she held the sweatpants down on the ground. “Okay, now step in. Come on, you can do it!” Blushing from ear to ear over Morgan’s incessant high-pitched encouragement, I did as I was told as Morgan wriggled up the jogging pants until they were square over my butt. I looked behind me, feeling tentatively. The diaper crinkled to my horror. “Morgan, I don’t want to do this!” I whined. “Holly, I’m not going to keep doing this with you,” Morgan tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet. “Did you or did you not tell me last night that you were an adult baby?” “Morgan,” I whined. “I don’t want to do this.” “Did you or did you not, Holly?” I looked down at the floor again. Morgan really had that power over me. “I did.” “Mmhmm,” Morgan agreed. “And if you’re a baby, and I’m your babysitter, is it not my job to make sure you’re taken care of?” “Yes…” “And would Mom and Dad be pleased to know their little baby Holly didn’t do as her babysitter told her?” “You wouldn’t.” “I told you I would,” Morgan reminded her, holding the T-shirt up. “Now arms up, Holly. It’s time to go shopping.” I whimpered as I lifted my arms up, Morgan once again praising me with her loud, high-pitched voice meant to further enforce that I was and would be treated like a two-year-old in every single aspect this weekend. Morgan was already proving she would go farther with this than I myself intended. I was scared as we walked back up the staircase, hand in hand, and went out to the garage to Morgan’s SUV. I opened the passenger door, only to hear a loud “ah ah ah” from my domineering sister. “Only big girls sit up front,” Morgan stated. “Into the back, young lady.” As I got in, Morgan even came around to make sure my seatbelt was buckled properly, before making sure my hands and feet were clear of the door prior to closing it. I squirmed in my seat as Morgan got in the driver’s side door, buckling up and opening the garage door. As she turned the ignition and began backing out, I looked behind me out the rear window towards the road and wherever it would take me this morning, for better or for worse. Chapter 4 I didn’t know where we were going, and I doubted Morgan would tell me. It didn’t matter anyway. Being out in public was being out in public no matter where we were going. I cringed at the thought of anyone hearing my diaper, looking in my direction and suspecting I was wearing something other than proper underwear underneath these jogging pants. I stared out the window as Morgan focused on the road, looking at the outside world, in which every person I looked at seemed to be a threat to my privacy. I wanted to so desperately lunge from the backseat and grab the wheel from her, and force her to take me home, but I had learned my lesson about acting on impulse out of fear. I had to sit here and fear the worst. Looking up at Morgan in the rearview mirror, seemingly undeterred, baffled me. If I was caught, she did realize she’d be with me, right? Not that I could understand my sister before, but I really didn’t understand her now. The passing blur of trees and houses as Morgan crossed town began to feel like a constant and I wondered if I was having a nightmare, or maybe the car had crashed and this was hell; waiting to be taken and embarrassed and having to live with that unsettling feeling for all eternity. “Holly, what’s wrong?” Morgan finally asked, as if she had absolutely no clue how I was feeling or what I was thinking about. “Are you still upset I wouldn’t let you stay home?” “I’m upset you took me anywhere in a diaper!” I cried, pouting and crossing my hands over my chest. “If anyone finds out, I’ll never forgive you!” “I told you, as long as you do as I say, no one’s going to find out,” she reminded me. Her tone was far more pleasant and understanding than it had been when she was getting me ready. “Do you think I’m lying?” “Maybe,” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t have any reason to trust her and she wasn’t giving me one. “How about I put on some music,” she offered, pressing the black dial on the car radio. “Would you like that?” I didn’t respond, and so Morgan chose the most grating auto-tuned white-girl-pretending-to-be-black EDM hip-hop song I’ve ever heard. I made it about fifteen seconds before I put my hands over my ears, shouting “turn it off!” “No way,” Morgan smiled, nodding her head up and down to the beat. “This is a great song!” “No, it’s not!” I cried, throwing my hands against the back of the rear seats. “Turn it off, Morgan! I hate this song!” “It’s almost over,” Morgan’s voice turned back into a scolding one as she eyed me severely from the rearview mirror. “And don’t you dare beat up on my car, missy, or you won’t like what happens.” I didn’t care. I was at Morgan’s whim, wearing a diaper, being taken out in public, and now I had to listen to her shitty music on top of everything else? I wasn’t going to take this. “Turn it off!” I screeched, pulling my knees back and kicking the empty front passenger seat hard. My feet banged against the leather seat, making a banging sound that caused Morgan to slam on the brakes hard. My seatbelt held me back, digging into my chest as I flew forward and flew back towards the sounds of angry horns and curses flung in our direction as she pulled over slowly to the side of the road. As she violently jammed the transmission shift into park, she clutched the headrest of the front passenger seat and spiraled around to face me, eyes wide and blazing with disdain for my actions. I could see she wanted to hurt me, be it physically or emotionally, and I was ready for it. I winced, my body tensing and bracing for my punishment. Morgan pointed a sharp finger at me, shaking and waving it at me, poking me in the chest as she pointed each and every word that spit out of her mouth towards me. “Don’t you ever kick my car again! You are on thin ice this morning, and if you don’t shape up immediately, I will consider our deal broken and everyone will know about little baby Holly! Do you want that?” “But you weren’t…” “Do you want that, Holly?” I cringed. Nobody had scolded me like this in years. I guess I didn’t need to worry about being caught in a diaper. I was already acting like a two-year-old just fine on my own. I found a tiny voice of compliance inside and whispered “no”. “This is your final warning. If you disobey me one more time, it’s over. Do you understand?” “Yes…” I whimpered, ready to cry from how horrible I felt being yelled at. “Yes what?” “Yes…” I repeated, thinking back to Morgan’s words from this morning. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I hope so,” Morgan replied, in a voice so eerily familiar that the nostalgia of being scolded by our mother crawled over me. Morgan did not belabor the point, instead putting the car back into gear and merging back into traffic. As I watched her from the rearview mirror, I could hardly imagine that I was really her older sister. I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t act like it. I really was in no position to claim as such. I was sure Morgan felt the same, if she hadn’t before now. After a little while of silence, Morgan turned the radio back on, but instead of staying on the Top 40 station, she moved to the oldies station. “If we put on something you like, will you be good at the salon?” So that’s where we’re going, I thought, never having it occur to me that Morgan would tell me. I nodded from the backseat where Morgan could see me as she turned up the music. I smiled a bit as I heard the synthesized tones as the next song started up. I had a feeling Morgan would too. I smiled a little as she began to sing along, very softly, as Irene Cara’s wonderful voice broke forth: First, when there’s nothing, but a slow glowing dream That your fear seems to hide deep inside your mind I smiled, remembering I was the first one who introduced Morgan to this song when I did it for my dance recital when I was eight. I knew the words by heart to this day, and sang along too, a little louder, a little happier: All alone I have cried silent tears full of pride In a world made of steel, made of stone We both began bobbing our heads as the beat kicked in, singing the rest in harmony as Morgan drove to the salon on the other side of town. The feelings of fear and concern seemed to disappear in a flash. All I could think about was having fun with Morgan and singing with her. Maybe I was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe Morgan wasn’t worried because there was no need to be worried… and if only it was that easy. I wish I could have gotten over my fear of being in public like this when Morgan pulled into the strip mall parking lot, but as the 80s pop music and the comfort of going somewhere but not being there disappeared, the fear set in. Morgan unbuckled her seatbelt, coming around to my side and opening the door. “Come on,” she beckoned me, reaching over and unbuckling my seatbelt. “This won’t take that long. I just want to get my nails done.” I’d never been to this place before so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Paying for a mani-pedi wasn’t something I was accustomed to, as I could just do it myself as needed for much less, but it seemed Morgan knew the lady at the reception desk as they exchanged pleasantries and hugged, before Morgan was led back into the building. “Go ahead and take a seat,” Morgan called after me. “It won’t be long.” I sighed, sitting down carefully in one of the three empty plastic chairs in the waiting area, careful not to make as many little crinkling sounds as I could manage. The receptionist didn’t seem to care about my careful positioning of myself as I settled in and grabbed a fashion magazine, beginning to flip through it. I laughed a little. Morgan was right, and I would bet money she was going to make me say it when we got out of this place. After a few minutes had passed, the receptionist, who I thought was minding her own business, actually decided to address me. “You know, we’re not that busy today,” she spoke, twirling in a pen in between her fingers. “Did you want something done too?” “Sorry,” I blurted out, before I looked around and realized I already had one. “I forgot my purse.” The receptionist sighed and sat back down as I felt the mesh pockets of my pants and realized I actually wasn’t carrying anything on me. My phone, my wallet, my purse, the contents of my entire social life were all back at the house, and I had the feeling that wasn’t an accident. After fumbling through all the magazines and some of the style books, Morgan finally emerged, showing off her daintily sculpted fingertips, shining a smooth and pretty shade of periwinkle blue. “What do you think?” “Great,” I managed, not one to gush over things like painted fingernails. “Are we going now?” “As soon as I pay, silly,” Morgan smiled, turning to pay her receptionist friend as I stood up, waiting impatiently by the door. The two seemed to begin a new conversation as I tapped my foot impatiently, but impatience was soon overrun by a new sensation as I felt a cramp in my abdomen, my hand instinctively moving to the aching spot and holding it, as a new fear washed over me – one I had not prepared for nor was I in any way able to handle. The receptionist noticed this, looking over Morgan at me. “Hun, are you okay?” “Yeah,” I managed, waving the cramp off. “It’s just my time of the month.” “Gotcha,” she said, looking me up and down, as if she was thinking that explained why I looked so dumpy and seemed so sullen. Actually, that was a good excuse. I decided I’d use that if anyone asked. Morgan was smarter than her though. She knew my period was at least a week away, but she didn’t say anything as we left the salon and got back in the car. “Where to now?” I asked anxiously as the cramp subsided, though I feared for how long it would hold. “A few other places,” Morgan said nonchalantly. “There’s no need to hurry, is there?” She knew, she had to know, but I wasn’t about to let her call my hand. “No,” I lied through my teeth as my eyes sank to my tummy. “No, I just want to get home is all.” “We’ll be home soon enough,” Morgan addressed me with her nice tone, smiling and putting her hand on my knee from the driver’s seat. “You did very well in there. If you keep it up, maybe we’ll get something special for lunch.” I smiled, appreciative that I did good and that things went much smoother than I expected, but I could care about lunch right now. There was a much more pressing matter on my mind, and I wasn’t even sure how or when I could bring it up. Morgan started the car and pulled out, circling the car around the east side of town up to the bank. Every bump and dip shook my stomach, only serving to make me even more worried as the drive once again seemed like it was never going to end. The cramps returned by the time we got to the bank. Once again, Morgan came around to my side after getting out, opening my door and unbuckling me as she took my hand and helped me out of the car. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the salon,” she noticed. “Is something the matter?” I was positive she was teasing me now, but I grimaced, ignoring her with a little “nothing” as we went inside so she could deposit some paychecks. I squirmed a little, trying to find anything to take my mind off the cramps, which had come back with twice the intensity in a place where there was no way I could say anything. Looking around, I spotted a little woven basket filled with lollipops - the safety kind that came on a ring. I spotted a grape one and reached for it, looking at the teller. “Um, is it okay if I take one?” “Sorry,” she said, pulling the basket away from my hand a little. “Those are for the kids.” “Oh,” I sighed as I squirmed a little, hoping my cramps would pass once again and give me time to get home. The unbelievable irony of it all… “Angie,” Morgan addressed the teller. “She’s got low blood sugar. It’s just a sucker. Can’t she have one?” “You should have just said so,” Angie said, pushing the basket back towards me. “Take one. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” That’s a good one, I thought as I took one of the grape ones with a gracious smile. You have no idea how much I’m hurting right now as it is, lady. “Holly?” Morgan stopped me before I could get the safety pop in my mouth to have something to take my mind off the growing, cramping urges. “What do we say?” “Oh,” I gasped, blushing a little bit as I turned to face the teller. “Um, thank you.” “You’re welcome,” the teller replied, a little surprised as she turned to Morgan, trying to whisper but doing a terrible job of it. “She seems a little off.” “She’s just having a rough day,” Morgan replied as she walked away towards the exit. “See you later.” I stood there, a little bit in shock to see my sister defend me publicly. I couldn’t remember the last time she had done something like that. With the lollipop securely around my ring finger, I watched her walk off with the grape flavor seeping onto my tongue before she turned around and waved to me. “Are you coming, Holly?” I jumped a little, removed from my shock as I chased after Morgan as we left the bank. “What do we say?” Morgan asked as she buckled me into the back seat. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” I said with a smile. Morgan rewarded me a smile in return as she closed the door, asking I watch my fingers and toes as was becoming the norm as she walked around to the driver’s side. Oh my god, I thought as we pulled out of the bank, looking up at Morgan with awe. I really was worrying over nothing. The last stop was the grocery store, which was fortunately a quick trip to get some things Morgan wanted for snacks and some food for me, because – as she so eloquently put it – she needed to get food I’d be able to eat. So things like spaghetti, oatmeal and applesauce were added to my immediate diet. I hadn’t had any problems until we got back in the car as the cramps came on full force, so bad that I had no choice but to grab my tummy with both hands and wince. It was coming down to the wire. “So,” Morgan announced as she started the car up again. “I was thinking, you’ve been such a good girl everywhere we went this morning, how about we go get some McDonald’s to bring home?” “I can’t eat pizza, but I can eat McDonald’s?” I groaned, as the cramps hit again. “It’s a treat,” Morgan looked at me quizzically. “What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” “It’s nothing,” I squeaked out, knowing damn well that was the last time I was going to be able to say it. I couldn’t even do so convincingly anymore. “Holly, what’s going on,” Morgan curled herself around the front seat towards me. “Are you okay? Does your tummy hurt?” “Morgan,” I begged, near tears. “Don’t make me say it.” Morgan looked at me for a moment, her eyes seemingly searching for the meaning behind my eyes, before widening in surprise with a great big “oh”. “Oh, Holly, no honey, don’t do that,” she begged me, pulling my hands away. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Just let it out.” My eyes nearly bulged out of my skull from the oncoming cramp and the serious amount of shock I had over Morgan’s words. She did not seriously just say that. No, I had to have heard her wrong, way wrong, because my sister did not seriously just insinuate that she… “I’ll change you when we get home,” Morgan responded. “This what you have your diapers for, right?” Oh my god, this was actually happening. I choked on my tongue, struggling to find words that would fit, let alone would make sense. “You… I… no, I… Morgan, are you serious? You can’t be serious. You’d really have me…” Morgan looked at me with a face that let me know she was neither surprised nor horrified by the situation. “What part of “two-year-old in every aspect” wasn’t clear? You’re wearing diapers because you’re two, Holly, so of course I expect you’ll use them.” “But… but this is… this is serious,” I gasped on the final word, the cramps so strong that a little bit fell onto the soft padding beneath my bottom. “Morgan, it’s your funeral if you let me do this.” Morgan audibly laughed at this as she turned back and began to drive off towards the McDonald’s on the other side of the grocery store. “Holly, anything you do won’t even crack my top ten worst changes.’ Perhaps, my sister had lost her mind as much as I had, but it didn’t matter any longer. My mouth parted in a whispered gasp as my bottom expanded and a rush of soft doughy mess caked itself all over the back of my diaper. The sudden release of pressure also set my bladder off, coloring the front of my diaper as equally as the back. I panted as we pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru as we got in line. Morgan looked over at me, putting the car in park for a moment as she leaned back and put her hand on my knee. “Did you make a stinky?” she comforted me as I sat in my well-confined mess. I couldn’t tell if she was actively consoling me or humiliating me, but her words rang of sweet truth. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you? Yeah, it’s not good to hold in your tummy when you have to potty.” She turned back around as she pulled the car forward, still going on with her comforting words. “Just sit tight and we’ll get you all cleaned up when we get home, then we’ll have a yummy lunch and then we’ll take a nice nap. Okay, baby girl?” Maybe it was because I was tired, exhausted even, from the effort of holding it in and letting it all out, but the rush of euphoria from the release was undeniable. I looked at Morgan from the back and smiled, sucking on my safety pop. I really was a baby girl. "Okays, Miss Morgan," I babbled, sucking on my lollipop as we waited in line to order. Chapter 5 Whatever the wine-red Highlander in front of us was ordering, it must have been enough to feed a small army. We had been sitting in the drive-thru for nearly fifteen minutes and Morgan, being the stubborn person she was, did not see any reason why she couldn’t park the car and go inside to order, though I was sure she could smell one. It didn’t take long after I had filled my diaper for her car to begin to fill with the earthy stench that could only be a full diaper. In addition to the smell, the mess I was sitting on was already beginning to cool, making me squirm. I began to let out little grumbles and whimpers as I wriggled in my seat. Morgan, trying to be patient, reached back and put her hand on my knee again. “Stay still,” she asked of me in as patient a tone she could manage, knowing I was trying to bear with the wait just as much as her. “It’s just a little while longer.” “But I don’t like it,” I whined, kicking my feet a little, but nowhere near like I did earlier that morning. My feet this time didn’t even make contact with the seat in front of me. “Miss Morgan, I wanna go home.” “We’ll be home before you know it,” she tried to comfort me, though I knew she had as much control over the people in front of us as I did. “Just bear with it. It’s not like this is the first time you messed yourself, right?” My cheeks turned red as I looked down in my lap, trying to avoid Morgan’s eyes on me from the rearview mirror. “It is…” I pouted as I squirmed a little more. “Hey, hey, what did I say?” Morgan grabbed my knee to stop me. “If you squirm and leak on the seats, you’re going to be in trouble, missy. Just sit tight and I’ll change you first thing when we get home, okay?” My only saving grace as the smell of my diaper began to wash over the car’s interior was the knowledge that Morgan probably hated it as much as I did. Mercifully, the Highlander pulled forward and we were able to place our order to the person on the other end. Morgan didn’t even bother to ask me what I want. She already knew what baby Holly would want and wasted no time. “Okay, I’ll have two grilled snack wraps with ranch and a small lemonade, and a happy meal with chicken nuggets, fries, a Sprite, and a girls’ toy. That’ll be it.” “Nuggets!” I clapped from the back in a higher-pitched voice. I must have surprised Morgan as she hunched her shoulders up, stifling a laugh as she pulled forward. “Where did you learn to make your voice sound like that?” she asked, not only surprised, but also seemingly impressed. “I thought you were a real toddler for a moment.” “Practice,” I said, a little embarrassed but a little proud of myself at the same time. I was doing my best not to let the smelly mess beneath me bother me too much, though I couldn’t say I would be able to keep it up much longer. Having never messed myself before, I was unsure how long it would take for diaper rash to set in. When I wet, I would change after fifteen minutes, thirty at most, but a number two felt like it was a whole different ballgame, and every minute I feared I was contributing to what could be a very big problem for the rest of the weekend. We pulled forward behind that damn Highlander again, watching as seven bags made their way into the SUV before they pulled away. Morgan handily paid the cashier and took our drinks and food, doing everything she could to make the process as quick as possible for the other people piling up behind us. Once we had everything, we took off. “What ‘bout barbeque sauce?” I complained. Morgan had to remember we never ate chicken nuggets with barbeque sauce. “Did you get da barbeque sauce?” “We have sauce at home,” Morgan eased my worry. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let a little nugget-eater like you go without it.” I couldn’t remember off the top of my head if we did have any, but knowing my family and how much we loved the stuff, Morgan was probably right. The only disappointment though would be in not getting to dip my nuggets in the little plastic cups McDonald’s gave out and digging for every last drop for my nuggets and fries. Morgan raced us home, driving faster than she had the rest of the morning. She practically jettisoned out of the driver side door as we made it home, parked in the garage and closed the garage door. I followed her with my head as she dashed around the front and opened my door, hurriedly unbuckling me and taking firm hold of my hand as she helped me out, getting me inside in a hurry and taking me downstairs to the basement. “Oh man, Holly, what did you eat last night?” Morgan asked as she went to the basement bathroom and grabbed a spare towel, laying it on the carpet, and then laying my changing mat on the towel. She forewent changing me on the ottoman, not wanting to risk my poo getting on the furniture. “You made a really big stinky, didn’t you?” I sucked on my lollipop, playing coy to the atrocity that I had deposited in the back of my Bambinos as she reached up and grabbed my hand, urging me to lay down with my messy diapered rear firmly on the plastic mat while she went to my bedroom for all the supplies, coming back with powder, oil, and a fresh pack of wipes. “What about the ones upstairs?” I said, noticing she was opening a new pack. “You have plenty,” she remarked, kneeling down in front of me, reaching out and taking hold of the legs of my pants, wriggling them off of me as the smell of my diaper became even stronger. “And you bought the cheap ones, so I know I’m going to need a lot.” I blushed as I sucked on my lollipop as Morgan examined the damage, looking unsure where to start. I knew she had gotten in over her head when she told me to mess myself and know she knew too. Morgan, though, wasn’t about to swallow her pride. With her freshly painted periwinkle fingernails, she picked at the tabs of my diaper, peeling each tape off with a loud resounding ripping sound. I nursed on the paper ring itself around my finger, glistening with grape lollipop residue as she pulled off the last tape. Carefully, she pulled back the front, just enough that she could see the full extent of what I had done before closing the front back over me. “Oh, Holly!” she exclaimed loudly. “What a messy baby you are!” My heart twinged a little bit as she pulled it back again carefully, the shock of my mess beginning to slowly subside as the soaked front landing on the changing mat with a dull plop. Morgan looked at my exposed self, tilting her head as if wondering where she should begin. I felt so vulnerable in front of Morgan, but I was surprised that my heart was racing not in fear, but anticipation. For all intents and purposes, I was about to have my diaper changed for the first time in twenty years, and it was going to be a doozy. “Baby Holly made a big messy,” she commented as she began to withdraw wipe after wipe and place them in a little pile on her knee for easy use. She had withdrawn at least twenty wipes before she was ready to tackle the mess, using two at a time to make sure to keep her own hands free of poo. I squeaked a little bit as she grabbed my legs from their spread position and clasped them together, using her forearm to shove them into an upright position. “Holly, will you be a good girl and help Miss Morgan by holding your legs for me?” The lollipop was all gone now so I felt no remorse in pulling my hand away from my mouth, reaching at my ankles and holding them as tightly as I could. Morgan kept her forearm anchored against the back of them just in case I let go, but me holding them took some extra weight off of her, which I was sure she appreciated. “Whew! Such a big stinky!” she made a big commotion as I felt the first wave of wipes run down my bottom, picking up big swathes of muddy mess and dishing them into the diaper, often disposing of the wipes she used immediately and going back for fresh ones. I could only imagine what my diaper looked like, and I would be lying if I didn’t have a screwed-up curiosity to see my first fully used diaper as an adult baby, especially if the clean-up was really that bad. Of course, I had no intention of making things any harder for Morgan, who seemed to be running through the baby wipes quite readily, having almost emptied the pack by the time it felt my bottom felt fresh and squeaky clean. Finally, Morgan pulled the diaper and the veritable mountain of mess and used wipes atop it away from my bottom as I felt the cool slick sensation of the changing mat. Morgan rolled up the diaper and placed it at the corner of the towel while she laid me back down and spread my legs, rubbing my privates with more baby wipes to clean up the pee mess. “This would go a lot smoother if you had bought the Huggies kind,” she commented. “They’re thicker and they smell better, like cucumber.” I hated the Huggies wipes exactly for that last reason. If they made thicker wipes that smelled as great as these ones, of course we wouldn’t be having this problem. “These ones smell the best,” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest and looking away. Morgan stopped rubbing, smiling as she dropped the wipe on the mat between my legs and kneeled up over me with a knowing smile. “Oh, I get it now,” she smiled deviously, going back to the pack of wipes and pulling out a few more, wiping beyond my vagina and up under my potbelly and on it. “Holly likes to smell like a baby.” Though her words left me speechless, the burning sensation in my cheeks as they turned bright red let her know she had hit the mark. I whimpered a little bit as she ran the wipes up and down my belly and sides and legs and feet. I was getting turned on, but not in a sexual way. Morgan was triggering a regression in me, spoiling me and giving me my most infantile of desires. Eventually, my whimpering became a loud, childish “Agu!” as my thumb found my mouth and I squirmed on the changing mat, feeling warmth and comfort radiating and insulating me from every direction. Morgan’s pampering stopped as I looked up at her, her face of surprise bringing my adult self back. I blushed deeply with embarrassment, squeezing my eyes and trying to get up. Morgan was faster than me though, gently grabbing my ankle and urging me to lie back down. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” I told her. “It’s… when I really feel like a baby down to the very core, my voice kind of… gets babyish.” “I’ll say,” Morgan said, using the rest of the wipes to do a quick last clean-down before getting a new diaper. “You really sounded like a baby.” “You don’t think it’s weird?” I asked shyly. Morgan was defying all my expectations of this weekend, but I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t think this was weird, but Morgan smiled, tapping my nose with her finger. “I think it’s the perfect voice for the baby you,” she answered sweetly. “You sounded adorable.” “You’re not just teasing me?” I asked, remembering this was Morgan I was talking to. Could I really trust her as much as my heart wanted to? She had been such a good caretaker all morning to me and I wanted to believe this wasn’t just an act, but twenty years of sisterhood is something incredibly hard to ignore, even if the little side of me was ready to follow her around the rest of the weekend like a little duckling. “You really think it’s cute?” “I really think it’s cute,” she said again, as she lifted my legs and put a clean diaper underneath me. Again, she powdered me liberally, front and back and on the sides until every part of skin that would touch the diaper was freshly powdered. She taped the diaper up snugly, reaching up past the diaper when she was done and tickling my sides a little. “Really really really!” “Agu!” I let it out again as I looked at Morgan smile at me. “Thank you, Miss Morgan!” “You’re so very welcome, baby girl,” Morgan said, helping me to my feet as she gathered the old diaper and wipes into an empty plastic grocery bag. “Now let’s go upstairs and have our yummy lunch, doesn’t that sound good?” “Mmhmm! Ummy-nummy!” I giggled as I held her hand going up the stairs. Morgan did not take any chances this time once we got to the kitchen, sitting me in tight and putting the bib around my neck. The cloth placemat in front of me was replaced with a plastic one that Morgan must have dug up from the bottom of the placemat drawer because I hadn’t seen the alphabet placemat since we lived in Minnesota. I sat still for Morgan as she went out to the car to get the groceries left in the car in the urgency of my diaper change, getting rid of the old diaper at the same time and coming back with the McDonald’s and the groceries. I looked impatiently at the food as Morgan went to go wash her hands, bouncing up and down a little when Morgan finally came back and put the chicken nuggets and fries on a small plate. “Oh, look what I found,” Morgan said with a singsong voice, reaching into the bag slowly and pulling out a small plastic package excitedly. “Barbeque sauce!” Yay! They didn’t forget it! I clapped my hands as Morgan peeled off the wrapper and put the sauce on the plate, putting the straw in my little soda cup and placing my meal out in front of me. Tucked tightly into the table with the plastic placemat, Morgan did not hesitate to let me go at the finger foods myself this time. Fingers wriggling with anticipation, I dug in, intentionally being sloppy about the food and not afraid to stick my fingers in the sauce or get bits of food all over my face. Morgan laughed at me a little and I smiled back. The idea of me being twenty-three was so far beyond me as I sat there in my soft fluffy diaper, eating a happy meal with a big around my neck that I undoubtedly needed. “You really are the messy eater,” Morgan commented, wiping my face clean when she was done. I didn’t even squirm that much this time, as she took my bib off and helped me up. “Okay, Holly, ready for your nap?” “What about my toy?” I pouted a little, putting my finger back in the sauce and in my mouth, forcing Morgan to wipe my hand again. “You can have it when you wake up,” she told me, pulling my chair out. “Right now, it’s naptime.” If I was really two, I might have thrown a fit, but I treasured the idea of having a mandatory nap now that I knew how good they could be. I feigned a yawn as I nodded sleepily and took Morgan’s hand as she led me back downstairs. I didn’t have to worry about cleaning up the changing mat or the happy meal. Morgan would take care of everything. All I had to do was be a good girl for her. I couldn’t have been happier or more at peace. Her finding out about my ABDL tendencies may arguably be one of the best things that had ever happened to me. “Okay, kiddo,” she said, helping me into my bed, pulling my princess sheets and baby blanket over me. “All ready for sweet dreams?” “Uh-huh,” I yawned, for real this time. “Thank you, Miss Morgan. You’re the bestest babysitter I ever had.” “Silly girl,” she said, stroking my hair. “I’m the first babysitter you’ve ever had in at least a decade.” “But you’re still the bestest,” I stuck my tongue out, defiant yet playful. “Coming from you, Holly, that’s the nicest compliment I could ask for,” Morgan said, turning down the blinds in my room and closing the door. I turned on my side, closing my eyes. I thought sleep would come naturally to a baby girl like me, but I was wrong. I tossed and turned against the grey muted light coming in from the room. I wasn’t sleepy. I really was about to act like a two-year-old. Opening the door, I peeked out of the room, knowing I was supposed to be napping, but I couldn’t help it. Morgan was on the couch watching one of the Real Housewives shows when she heard the door next to her. Her head turned instinctively and her body rose upright just as quickly as it approached me. “Holly, what’s the matter? Are you not tired?” “Can’t sleep,” I muttered. “Do you have something that helps you sleep?” she asked sincerely. I thought about this and then thought of the cardboard box where I had hid the bed sheets and the baby blanket. I had forgotten all about Abba, my stuffed gray bunny with a black bowtie and a big fluffy white cottontail. “Abba! Remember my Abba? He’s in one of my boxes. He’ll help me.” “Okay,” Morgan said, ushering me back into my room and back into bed as she dug through the cardboard boxes of my baby things, producing Abba as if by magic. “Here he is!” “Abba!” I cried out with excited giggles and grabby hands. Morgan placed him carefully in my hands as I cuddled him close to me as Morgan tucked me back in. “Thank you, Miss Morgan!” “You’re welcome, baby girl,” she told me, stroking my hair softly. “Now let’s try to sleep. Miss Morgan will come wake you up in a few hours.” “Pwomise?” I said, sticking my pinky out of the covers towards Morgan. “Pinky promise,” Morgan indulged me, crossing her pinky with mine. I smiled as she got up and closed the door. I had no trouble falling to sleep as the lazy Saturday afternoon passed with me all snug in my bed, cuddling my Abba with my thumb in my mouth. I guess dreams really do come true. Chapter 6 There was a heaviness and warmth in the air. The light had dimmed considerably as I squirmed underneath my blanket. I turned my head over to find Abba had fallen off the bed sometime during my nap. My diaper crinkled as I moved and tried to turn over on my side. I felt so heavy, like I could sleep more, but I fought the urge. Fear was sinking in that I had already slept longer than I was supposed to. As I sat up, I felt a twinge in my bladder. The soda from earlier was ready to come out the other end. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at my diaper as I put my hand on it and relaxed. It wasn’t easy to overcome the mental block of potty training, not that it ever was, but the thought of getting my diaper changed again gave me the release as I felt the plastic backing of the diaper get warmer to the touch on my palm. I sat there for a moment, taking in the late afternoon atmosphere as I patted the front of my diaper playfully, noticing how much heavier it felt. The weight made me feel impish as I climbed down out of my bed and toddled over to my bedroom door to open it. Peeking out, I could see Morgan wasn’t there anymore. I walked out, wondering if she was upstairs, before my eyes were drawn to the pale orange light shining through the high-seated windows to my left. I could already see the sun making its descent. I had slept late. Fearful that I would miss anymore of my special time with Morgan, I hurried to the staircase, walking before realizing it would be more appropriate to crawl. I smiled, getting on my hands and knees as I banged noisily as I slammed against the staircase with, clattering up the staircase, when I got to the top. I was ready to get back on my feet to open it when it opened for me. “There you are,” Morgan said with a kind, sweet voice, kneeling down and helping me to my feet at the top by my armpits. “Little Miss Sleepyhead finally woke up!” I wanted to be a good girl, but I remembered at the sight of Morgan and the clock past her reading 4:36 helped me remember the promise she made to me before I took my nap and pouted instead. “You pwomised you’d wake me up!” I whined, petulantly stamping my foot. “I know, sweetie,” Morgan said, smoothing my hair out from being all over the place from tossing and turning in bed, not at all upset with me for my attitude. “I did try, but you wouldn’t budge. You were just too sleepy.” I wanted to act like a real toddler and stay mad, but it was hard. Morgan’s soft voice and comforting touch made it so hard to stay mad at her. I pouted a little bit, though I probably wasn’t very convincing. “Can I have my happy meal toy now, pwease?” “Of course, honey,” Morgan cooed as she walked over to the counter and held out an object wrapped in thin plastic. “Here you go.” Eagerly, I ripped at the plastic and threw it on the ground holding my prize in front of me; an adorable little stuffed elephant – hot pink with purple fuzzy fair on its head and for a tail. “Yay!” I giggled as I ran around the living room with my new friend. “I’m gonna name you Twinkle!” I exclaimed proudly. Morgan picked up my trash and looked at the plastic package intently. “Holly, it says here his name is Peanut.” “No!” I announced loudly. “Her name is Twinkle!” Morgan sighed, letting me do as I pleased as she threw away the plastic packing in the trash can before she headed over to me. “What’s this I see?” she said, catching me while I was running in a circle, patting the back of my diaper in her arms. “Did someone do a little something in her diaper during her nap?” “Nooooo,” I squirmed in Morgan’s hold. I wasn’t really lying, because I didn’t do it during my nap. “I think someone did do something,” Morgan said, turning me around to face her as she pulled back the front of my diaper, releasing the waistband with a snap. “Yup yup, I was right. Baby Holly sprung a leak. Did she do anything else?” The back of my diaper was pulled back and Morgan sighed with relief to see there was nothing there other than a little more pee. “Just a sprinkle,” she confirmed, patting my bottom. “What do you say we get you a new diaper, hmm? Would you like that?” I giggled and nodded as Morgan told me to stay exactly where I was as she went downstairs to get my changing pad, powder, and a fresh diaper. She didn’t bother getting the wipes, as there were still the ones from up here. Spreading out the changing pad in the wide-open living room, I took her hand as she laid me down. Surrounded by so many rising windows and in full view of the front door, I felt more self-conscious than my first diaper change. I squirmed a little, anxious but afraid of all the windows and doors in full view, even though I knew it would be a one in a million chance that anyone would walk by or be able to see me inside. “Holly, be a good girl,” Morgan cautioned me, as she rolled me over into position more than once due to my squirming. “You’re not going to give me a hard time, are you?” I looked aside, whimpering, still squirming. “Okay, fussy baby,” Morgan stated as she reached into her pocket and pulled out my butterfly pacifier. “Will this make you feel better?” I looked at my pacifier longingly as Morgan moved it closer and pressed it into my mouth. Instinctively, I began to suck and nurse on the rubber soother as I became a little more complacent. “Good girl,” Morgan praised me as I nursed as she untaped my diaper and pulled it down flush on the changing pad. “Upsy-daisy,” she told me as she clasped my ankles and pushed my legs up wide. Remembering my last change, I reached up to be a good girl and hold my legs back. This was not lost on Morgan. “Good girl!” she cooed loudly, tapping me on my nose before she opened the pack of baby wipes. “You’re making this so easy for Miss Morgan.” I closed my eyes, listening to Morgan’s sweet words and the loving, babyish sensations – all the smells, all the sounds, and all the feels – of having my diaper changed. Though I had changed my diaper countless times, between this time and the last time Morgan had changed me, I knew for positive that there was something so much more comforting, secure, and kind about being changed by another person. Morgan smiled as she ran the baby wipes in between my legs and down my bottom. “Good girl holding still,” she told me as she cleaned me up and made me smell so very good. “Yeah, we’re almost done. Pee pee diapers are so much easier to clean up than poopy ones.” “Mith Mogan,” I babbled through my paci. “Wath ma oopy diaph one uf yaw top ten?” “Top 20, maybe,” Morgan replied, pulling out the old diaper and putting a fresh one underneath my clean bottom. “What do I gotta do to make a Top 10?” I asked, spitting my paci out on my chest, curious as to what my sister would consider a complete disaster of a diaper change if a 23-year-old’s bottom caked in her mess wasn’t the worst she has seen. Morgan laughed, rolling her eyes, likely in remembrance of some of the truly terrifying changes she’d had to perform. She spread my legs and shaking the bottle of baby powder over my pink parts as she answered. “You don’t want to know, kiddo. Trust me, you really don’t.” I put my pacifier back in my mouth, smiling up at Morgan, who smiled back at me as she taped my new diaper up, rolling me over off the changing mat, patting me on the bottom to let me know she was done. “There you go, all nice and clean,” Morgan said as she cleaned her hands off with a baby wipe before taking my wet Bambino outside to the garbage can. I lay on my side on the white carpet as I looked at all my changing supplies. Reaching over, I got a mischievous idea and grabbed at the baby wipes, pulling them out one by one around me. I didn’t get very far when Morgan caught me and hurried over to take them away from me. “What are you doing, Holly?” she scolded me, picking up the discarded wipes and the remainder of the package, along with the rest of my diapering supplies. I giggled, not sure what to say and tried to let childish innocence be the answer. Morgan gave me a knowing eye as she got all my things together. “Silly girl,” Morgan chided me as she took everything downstairs, coming back up and heading straight for the laundry room. “Let’s see if we have something you can play with that won’t make a big mess for Miss Morgan to clean up.” I laid down on the carpet in Morgan’s absence, picking at the fuzzy carpeting, pinching at it and picking it up off the ground and letting it go, doing it over and over while I heard rustling sounds coming from the laundry room on the other side of the house. Hearing the closing of cabinet doors, I looked up to see Morgan coming back to the living room with a familiar looking plastic bin with a dingy white lid. “Look what I found!” Morgan announced happily, shaking the box. The sound of rolling and rattling objects intrigued me as she put it on the floor and peeled off the lid with a snapping sound. I peered in, my eyes lighting up at the assortment of loose washable markers and crayons of all different colors and wear. Scattered beneath the coloring items was a variety of different coloring books featuring Barbie, Minnie Mouse, The Little Mermaid, and Hello Kitty! “The art box!” I squealed, reaching in and grabbing handfuls of markers and crayons. “Mom and Dad kept it?” “It seems they’ve kept a lot of things,” Morgan told me as she picked up what I was spilling, amidst my choosing of which markers and crayons I would use. “Maybe they’re saving it for when they have grandkids.” “Maybe,” I said in a small, uninterested voice, far more concerned with finding the right page in the Little Mermaid book, settling on a picture of Ariel showing Flounder her treasures. I took a jungle green crayon and began to color in some of the rust and water-damaged human objects in Ariel’s grotto. I knew it was more appropriate to color outside the lines, but I wanted to make the picture look as pretty as possible. Now that I was distracted by the coloring book, Morgan stood up from hovering over me and took a seat on the couch. She turned on the TV to some movie on cable, using it as background noise for us while she indulged in a book of her own. I chose my colors carefully, mostly sticking to crayons as they had varying shades that would match the dark shadowy nature of the grotto far better than bright greens and blues that the markers came in. Morgan would look down on me every once in a while to see I was doing okay and not drawing on the carpet. Even if I was in the position of a two-year-old, I wasn’t stupid enough to cause damage that would have to be explained when Mom and Dad got back tomorrow. As the sun set lower in the sky and the movie on TV ended, Morgan closed her book, standing up and kneeling down over me. “Wow!” Morgan exclaimed. I jumped a little, not noticing her next to me as I was putting the finishing touches on the page I was drawing, the third one I had made it through of the book. “Holly, that’s such a pretty picture! You’re so talented!” My hand stopped as the crayon trembled in my hand and my heart sank as I looked down at my work from the afternoon. How long had it been since I had drawn just for the sake of drawing? I stared down at my colored pages with a sense of longing and melancholy. “I guess…” I managed to say, crying out passively to Morgan in light of her praise. Morgan crouched down next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder comfortingly as I lay there on my belly. I turned my head to face Morgan, my lips trembling as I remembered things I had promised myself I wouldn’t remember. In all the excitement of remembering what it was to lay down in the living room and color the afternoon away, to do it because it made me happy and for no other reason. “What’s the matter?” Morgan asked me, and for everything she had done for me today, I didn’t feel afraid to tell her truthfully. I put the crayon down, pushing myself up and sitting on the floor against the coffee table. I pursed my lips, feeling the pressure in my eyes as I thought back to my late days in college. “I just… I forgot how much fun drawing was.” “What do you mean?” Morgan asked, sitting down Indian-style across from me. “I just…” I took a deep breath before I continued. “I don’t…” “Was there a reason you stopped drawing?” Morgan asked, looking at me seriously. It wasn’t a big surprise to her or anyone in my family that I stopped drawing halfway through college. It was part of why I ended up with a liberal arts degree when I had been so focused on my artwork up until then, but my second semester hurt me in a way I wasn’t able to get over. “Someone saw my work and suggested I start putting it online,” I explained after a moment’s hesitation. “I wasn’t expecting a lot of praise, but some of the things people told me… it was like they took joy in insulting my work. I didn’t want to keep drawing. I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough. There were so many people better than me and I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough to match up to them.” “Oh, Holly,” Morgan sighed softly, putting her hand gently on my cheek. “You can’t listen to people like that. You have to believe in yourself. “You say that like it’s so easy,” I whimpered, feeling the tears coming on. “ You don’t think I tried that? You don’t think I tried to ignore them? I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.” “Holly,” Morgan cooed my name as she crawled over to me and pulled me against her in a tight hug. “Holly, it’s okay. You really do have a lot of talent and if those idiots online can’t see that, that’s their problem. You should draw again, if only for yourself and the way it makes you feel.” I was bawling against her shoulder now, clutching tightly to her blouse as I drenched it with my tears. “It’s been so long, Morgan… since I drew, since anyone told me I was any good at anything. Thank you.” “Shhhh,” she hushed me, stroking my hair softly as she held me and let me cry on her. “You should never be bullied into giving up something that makes you happy, be that your drawing or your diapers. If it makes you happy, that’s all that matters.” I held onto my sister for a number of minutes before my sobs dissipated into soft sniffles. When I felt strong enough that I could let go, I slowly backed away from my sister’s embrace. She opened her arms just as slowly as I looked at her, my eyes raw and puffy once again as she wiped residue of my tears from the corners of my eyes with the back of her finger. “It’s okay, Holly,” she told me again with a comforting smile. “Everything will be okay.” I wanted to believe her, but more than my desire to be comforted by Morgan was my even stronger confusion why she was acting like this. This went beyond her whole “Miss Morgan” persona. This felt like she was trying to connect to me, sister to sister, someone who had never shown any interest or desire to do it up until today. “Holly?” Morgan interrupted my thoughts, looking at me with the same dire gaze I was giving her, but before I could open my mouth, Morgan laughed, raising her hand and waving off the interjection. “Never mind, it’s nothing.” No, something was most definitely going on with Morgan. Maybe she felt now that I was opening up to her that she could open up to me about something, but what, I could not possibly know. Was it possible that my sister, who rubbed her perfection and superiority in my face for nearly a decade, was not as perfect as I thought she was? Before I could ask her what was troubling her, she got to her feet, looking towards the kitchen and letting out a fake gasp to offset the mood we had established. “Oh, look at the time, I need to make dinner. We can’t have your tummy rumbling, can we?” I looked up at the clock to see it was a little after 6:30. I got to my own feet, following after her but she shooed me back to the living room. “Why don’t you stay in the other room and watch some TV?” she recommended. “Miss Morgan needs to cook dinner and she can’t have you around the stove.” Feeling bad that Morgan didn’t want to talk to me any longer, I hurried back to the living room. Before she could say anything, I presented her with the three pages of the coloring book I had illustrated from top to bottom with my name scrawled out in big black letters at the bottom, crude and aimless, like the two-year-old I was to Morgan. I looked at her silently, letting my eyes plead for me for her to know they were for her. “Oh, sweetie,” Morgan said, taking the pictures from me and hugging me. “Thank you. I love them.” Morgan let me go to walk over to the refrigerator where she took some spare real estate magnets and used them to hang the pictures proudly. I beamed my approval and hugged Morgan back before heading back to the family room. While Morgan was cooking a spaghetti dinner, I would often find myself ignoring the cartoons on the television and looked over at Morgan. She seemed to be lost in a deep, sad thought. I wanted to say something, to reach out to her, but I doubt it was something she could talk about with a two-year-old. Maybe when I grew up, she would tell me. Maybe… Chapter 7 The spaghetti didn’t take long to make. Morgan just boiled the noodles and heated a jar of Prego. When it was ready, she dished out a healthy serving into a blue plastic bowl and doused it with a generous serving of sauce. “Is dinner ready?” I called from the living room, not bothering to move. “Just about,” she said as I heard the sounds of the bowl tipping around on the counter and what sounded like a knife cutting along the inside of the bowl, over and over again. Morgan filled my sippy cup up with milk again and brought my meal to the table, pulling out my chair. “And ready. Holly, would you like to come to the table?” I pretended to have some difficulty getting up off the couch, purposefully refusing to shift my center of gravity as I strained to get to my feet. “Miss Morgan,” I whined loudly. “I’m stuck!” “Alright, alright,” Morgan hushed me as she walked over to the living room, taking both my hands with a gentle smile. Her eyes showed no sense of any hidden anxiety. I smiled just as much, hiding my own concern for Morgan. I wanted to say something and dinner seemed like the right time, where I’d have Morgan’s undivided attention. Taking Morgan’s hand, I followed her to the kitchen where she helped me into my seat, pushing my chair in and tying my bib back around my neck. I could smell the spaghetti sauce from the kitchen, but watching the steam rise out of my bowl, I took a large whiff with a big grin. Morgan sat down to my right with her meal, the same as mine but hers was on a ceramic plate with adult silverware and an actual glass full of milk. “It smells good, doesn’t it?” “Mmhmm,” I sighed in agreement as I picked up my airplane spoon and dug into my bowl, using the spoon more like a shovel. To say Morgan had cut the spaghetti was an understatement. She had practically diced it with pieces small enough they could all fit on the tiny spoon. “Um, Morgan,” I asked as I readied to take my first bite. “I wanted to ask, is something…” “Oh, Holly, no,” Morgan interrupted me, prying the spoon away from me. “No, honey, it’s far too messy to do it yourself. You’ll get it all over.” What in the world? I thought as I held tight to the spoon as little bits of noodles and sauce dribbled off the utensil onto the plastic placemat. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to keep me from talking or if she genuinely didn’t want me to feed myself, but I knew I did not want her jamming that spoon down my throat a second time and I held tight to that little spoon, my pleasant demeanor becoming grumpy again. “Holly,” Morgan tried to reason with me. “You’re been a good girl all afternoon. You don’t want to be a bad girl again, do you? Bad girls get punished. You don’t want to be punished, do you?” I hesitated, but held tight to the spoon all the same. “I wanna do it!” I argued, pulling back. It wasn’t unreasonable for a two-year-old to want to feed herself. Morgan had to have known this from her job at the daycare. “I can do it!” I could see the look in Morgan’s eyes getting far more stern and cold. She wasn’t going to give me an inch with this. “Holly, I’m going to give you to the count of three,” she warned me, my fingers not budging even a little from the spoon. “One, two…” I let go, but we both miscalculated how tightly the two of us had been pulling at the spoon. When I let go, Morgan fell back a little, as her face was splattered with little drops of spaghetti sauce and noodles. She was stunned, unsure what had happened as she reached a hand to her face to confirm what had just happened. The look on her face of complete disbelief that the sister she had told was to be treated like a toddler had acted like a toddler; I couldn’t help myself and started giggling mercilessly at Morgan. My cheeks were burning red. I couldn’t stop the laughter, even though I was terrified she wouldn’t find it very funny. Eventually, Morgan winced, squeezing her eyes shut as her awestruck lips curled up into a smile that shook with the suppression of her own laughter. “You little devil!” she laughed as she wiped her face off with her napkin. “See? This is why I have to feed you. Now hold still.” I didn’t want to be fed, but at the same time, I didn’t want to push my luck any farther. I tried to remember the rhythm as Morgan fed me spoonful after spoonful of my dinner, all the while chiding me for my actions, and all the while silencing any defense I had with another flyby of the airplane into the hanger of my mouth. “Bad baby,” she gently scolded me, amused more than upset. “You got Miss Morgan all dirty. You think it’s so funny, don’t you? Well, you’re not one to talk, Miss Messy Face. Look at all that spaghetti you’re getting all over your face and your bib. I don’t know how you could get any messier. I had a few ideas, but right now I was plenty content in tilting my head in just such a way that my food got on my cheeks, my nose, my chin, and all over my bib with even some on my clothes. Morgan remained patient with me as I would be a good girl every now and then and eat, but when she missed, I would always smile and giggle in such a way that I knew she couldn’t get mad at someone who was just acting her supposed age. Morgan’s dinner had got cold long ago and would need heating up, but I was going to make sure it waited. Once I could hear the spoon scraping against the bowl as Morgan scooped out another bite for me, I made my move. As Morgan moved the spoon towards my mouth, I smiled a big mischievous grin and reached at my bowl. With the spoon precariously placed in Morgan’s hand, she didn’t have time to pull it away before I dumped it on my head. Morgan looked at me aghast as the sauce ran down my forehead over the bridge of my nose. “All done,” I announced proudly as the lukewarm sauce seeped into my hair. “I can go pway now?” Morgan looked like she was about ready to cry as she put a hand over her mouth and then over her forehead, looking at me as if I was criminally insane. “Play?” she repeated in disbelief. “Oh, you can go play.” I got up when Morgan grabbed my hand holding me back. “You can play in the bathtub while I wash all that food out of your hair.” “No!” I stomped, noodle bits falling out of the bowl and onto my face and the floor to Morgan’s dismay. “Go play in the living room!” Morgan had to have known I was joking as I stood there, waiting to see how she would react. Oh, how good it felt to give her exactly what she wanted out of today on my terms. Sighing in defeat, she got up and undid my bib, placing it clean side down on the table as she walked away from her own meal, which would surely have to wait now. “Come on, Little Miss Messy, it’s bath time and you know it.” Before we even dared to walk across the carpet, Morgan took me over to the sink, pushing my head down and removing the bowl. Turning on the faucet, she washed as much of the damage out of my hair as I squirmed and moaned about letting me go, even though I knew there was no going anywhere after what I had done. Once Morgan felt I was suitable to walk across the carpet, she rubbed my hair with an old dishtowel and wrapped it around my neck to keep any stray bits of food from falling on the carpet. Carefully, she walked me not downstairs, but across the living room and up the stairs to our parents’ bedroom. “Why are we going in here?” I asked, knowing there was a perfectly fine shower downstairs. “You really need to ask?” Morgan asked. “Mom and Dad have the really big whirlpool tub. It’s the only one in the house that will fit a baby as big as you.” I blushed as Morgan led me across the master bedroom to the bathroom on the side. The first thing I could see on the left was the enormous whirlpool tub. I looked at it excitedly. “I’m gonna get to take a real bath in there? Do I get bubbles?” “Of course,” Morgan said, positioning me on the mint green bathmat. “Now I want you to stay right here and not move a muscle. I’ll get your things and we can get you undressed.” “Um, Morgan,” I interjected. “I’m okay bathing myself.” Of course I should have realized how Morgan would have responded, but I just didn’t feel comfortable about being bathed. I mean, a diaper change was one thing, but I didn’t want to have someone else’s hands all over me from head to toe, laying there under the bubbles in nothing but my bare skin. I didn’t care if it was just my sister. I didn’t want to be bathed. “Is that so?” Morgan said, looking me up and down. “And what would make you think I would trust a diaper-messing, thumb-sucking, spaghetti-splattered toddler to properly bathe herself? I can’t trust you one bit, baby girl. Don’t worry, that’s what Miss Morgan is here for. All you’re going to have to do is relax.” Relaxing was not something I was capable of as Morgan walked to the door as I reached out towards her, calling her name with panic in my voice. “Morgan, I don’t want to do this. Please just let me do this part on my own.” “Holly, it’s just me,” Morgan tried to comfort me to no avail, even teasing me for being as nervous about something as basic as a bath. “What, are you afraid you’ll like it.” “No!” I huffed angrily, stomping my foot down so hard it shook the toothbrushes in their holders and the various medicines and makeups on the counter. Morgan looked at me with a cold glare that reflected she was not going to put up with my attitude any longer. I backed away a bit, my lower lip trembling in a whimper. “I just… I don’t like being touched by other people.” “You didn’t seem to mind when I changed your diaper,” Morgan commented. “What’s so different about that?” And I really had no good answer. A feeble “because” dribbled out of the corner of my mouth, but Morgan was smiling, knowing I knew she was right, but I wasn’t fully naked during my change. Just the thought of being naked in the tub, vulnerable as I could possibly be, made me feel a little nervous. I stood there like a good girl, knowing I had pushed Morgan’s buttons as far as they would go for the time being as she gathered a fresh snow-white towel, a matching washcloth, my baby bath and baby shampoo, and supplies to diaper me once I was clean. “Okay,” she said, placing all the items on the toilet seat. “Now I’m going to ask you once, and I want the truth because once that tub is full it stays full – do you have to go potty?” “No,” I mumbled, holding my arms across my chest. “Holly,” Morgan asked me again. “Do you have to go potty?” “I don’t have to potty,” I affirmed to Morgan’s satisfaction. Pleased with my response, she turned the tub water on, checking the temperature then waving me over to check it to make sure it was okay. “A little hotter,” I asked until it felt just right. I pulled my hand away as Morgan began to undress me from head to toe. As I stood in the bathtub, watching the water fill up and Morgan add a generous dose of baby bath to the water to make it bubble up, I held myself, feeling so cold and exposed. “Just a little longer,” Morgan said, as ‘a little longer’ began to feel like an eternity. I danced on my tiptoes, wanting so badly to immerse myself through the fragrant bubbly surface on top into the steamy warm water, wanting to feel it in every inch of my skin. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, Morgan turned the water off and took my hand, holding it tight as I navigated myself into the tub. The water was just the way I liked it, so warm that if it were any hotter it would burn my skin. I let the heat pierce my skin and warm me to the bone, slowly, easily with Morgan holding my hand all the way, lowering myself into the tub and letting my whole body become engulfed in the wonderfully intense heat of the bath. I let out a sigh of bliss as I sank deeper into the tub, so deep my chin touched the surface of the water. I closed my eyes for a moment to take in the sensation before I felt a presence enter the water other than my own. I opened my eyes to see Morgan, dousing the washcloth into the water and gathering bubbles, taking my arm and running the cloth up and down it, even getting in between my fingers. I flinched for a moment before Morgan looked at me cautiously. “Holly, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she coaxed as she did the same to my other arm. “Remember when I changed your diaper how much you liked that? It’s just like that now, just a bathtub instead of a tub of wipes.” I hesitated to make the comparison, but I tried to relax. I knew Morgan would punish me if I was any more difficult, so I closed my eyes, letting Morgan run the washcloth over me from head to toe, making sure I was squeaky clean in every nook and cranny. As the washcloth moved up and down my skin, I began to giggle from how much it tickled, and Morgan only encouraged this with her words. “Yeah, the messy baby’s getting all nice and clean, isn’t she?” she cooed. “Baby Holly loves getting clean and smelling good. Yes, she does. Miss Morgan’s gonna make sure even inch of your skin shines – your cute little toes, your pretty legs, you pudgy little baby belly, every single last spot.” Just like before, I lost myself in the sensation of being bathed like a baby and Morgan’s sweet words, returning to my high-pitched babbling state as I kicked and splashed a little, my body giving way to every little reflex as my body twitched and shivered, making little splashes on the surface of the water, lapping up against the sides of the tub and getting Morgan’s blouse a little damp. “Now now, who’s a good baby?” Morgan soothed me as she finished washing me down. “Let’s not make a mess. You’re doing so well. Miss Morgan is so proud of you.” I beamed over such small and infantile praise as if I had won a major award, while Morgan held my head back under the water until it came up around my ears, running her hands through my brunette hair, she made sure to get it nice and wet before opening the baby shampoo and lathering a large dollop through my dark locks. I cooed softly, something I would often suppress when getting my hair washed at a salon, but here in Morgan’s care, I let my childish glee for being taken care of show. “Yeah, someone’s not fussy anymore, no no no,” Morgan talked to me like I was the toddler I truly felt I was. “Okie dokie, let’s get you under the faucet,” she helped motion me around towards the large faucet on the other end as she turned it on, making sure it was a little cooler than I liked so it didn’t burn my scalp, but not cold enough that I would thrash. Gently, she scrubbed my hair clean before turning the faucet off. “Ready to get out?” she asked, holding up a big fluffy towel. I wanted to say ‘yes’ but there was something else I wanted to try. Pulling up the drain, I sat there, constantly telling Morgan no as I felt the water drain away from my skin. I always loved this feeling as a child and experiencing it again, the enjoyment had not faded in the slightest. As the water pooled around my bottom, nearly drained, I felt a chill. Morgan noticed me shiver and quickly wrapped the towel around me, even though I was still sitting in the tub. “Okay, time to get out,” she announced. “We can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?” “No,” I answered sincerely and happily as Morgan as she dried me off and combed my baby-soft hair. I sucked my thumb in front of her, smiling and trying to look cute. She smiled back, undistracted until I was dry enough to get dressed. “Ready for a clean diaper?” Morgan asked, patting the diaper on the toilet seat. I nodded as Morgan helped me lie down on the bathmat, raising my bottom and putting the new diaper beneath me, and then got the lotion and powder. “Gotta make sure your skin stays nice and soft,” she teased me as she poured a decent amount of lotion between her hands, rubbing it together between her fingers so it would be nice and warm when she rubbed it into my skin. I babbled incessantly, kicking just slightly as Morgan cooed to me and continued to tell me what a good girl I was, reaching next for the powder and giving me a liberal helping on my front and rear before taping me up nice and snug. “Alright, now let’s get you downstairs so we can put on your jammies, then it’s off to bed.” “Bed?” I whimpered, shocked by the sudden realization. “But it’s not bedtime.” “It’s almost eight,” Morgan commented, tapping my nose playfully. “And that’s when all good little girls go night night.” I pouted, but knowing I didn’t have much of a say, I followed Morgan downstairs to my bedroom. I didn’t have any jammies suitable of a girl my age just yet. That was the next thing I planned to buy, so Morgan made due with an oversized T-shirt before tucking me in with Abba. “Oh,” I stammered, remembering what I had forgotten from last night. “My nightlight. It’s in the top cardboard box, can you get it?” “Sure thing, baby girl,” Morgan patted my head as she plugged it in, tucking me again tightly under the covers. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning.” “Wait,” I said again, as Morgan turned around. She seemed a little more annoyed this time. I think she thought I was going to play that game where I keep asking for things to stay up late, but I knew that never worked. “Just one more thing, really, just one.” “What is it?” Morgan sighed, sitting down by my bed. “A glass of water? Check for monsters?” “A story?” I asked with a small, hopeful voice. Morgan had to remember we never went to bed as a little girl without story time, and seeing the soft smile upon her face, I knew she was on the same page as me, but her smile didn’t last long. “Sweetie, I’d love to tell you a story, but I don’t remember many off the top of my head,” Morgan sighed, stroking my hair gently as she spoke. “Was there a story you had you wanted me to tell you?” “Why don’t you make one up?” I asked, not realizing or considering what a toll that would be on Morgan out of the blue. Morgan though looked at me thoughtfully, closing her eyes and thinking about exactly what she wanted to say. She opened her eyes, smiling at me, and continuing to run her fingers through my smooth clean hair. “Alright, I have one. It’s the story of the two princesses Elizabeth and Alice.” Elizabeth and Alice, I thought as Morgan began. Those are our middle names. Looking into Morgan’s empathetic gaze, I knew to lay still and listen as Morgan began the story: “Once upon a time, there were two princesses, Elizabeth and Alice. Elizabeth was the elder and was heir to the throne while Alice was the younger. When Alice was born, it was said the princess Elizabeth could not stop gushing with joy that she had a sister who she could teach and become best friends with, but then something horrible happened. “A spell was placed on the princess Elizabeth. What’s more, nobody realized the spell had been placed upon her, not even Elizabeth herself. Because nobody knew the spell had been placed or even how, nobody knew to do anything, not even Elizabeth. What they did notice was that Elizabeth grew more and more withdrawn and would often lock herself away in her room. “She yelled at anyone that tried to talk to her. The king and queen were worried, but Alice most especially, as she wanted to be friends with her elder sister. As the years passed, the spell continued to hold and Elizabeth continued to shut herself off from anyone and everyone, taking solace in writing and drawing to express herself, but rarely if ever sharing it with the king and queen or Alice. “By now everyone knew there was something wrong with the elder princess, and the king and queen began to wonder if she would be ready to take the throne when the time came. They began to focus on Alice, who had been doing her best in the face of Elizabeth’s lack of responsibility to be the more responsible sister and more suitable heir. It was not a choice she made willingly, but the king and queen did not want to see what happened to Elizabeth happen to Alice. “Elizabeth remained sealed off in the castle alone. One day, Alice tried, knowing it would be in vain, to reach out again to Elizabeth. Years of constantly being ignored and yelled at had left Alice angry with Elizabeth and her attempts to reach her had become more and more pointed. Alice didn’t intend this, but she wanted to reach Elizabeth, and if that was the only way, so be it. “Elizabeth again ignored Alice until Alice opened Elizabeth’s door. It was then that Alice found Elizabeth not as her elder sister, but as a child. The spell was keeping Elizabeth a child and making her unable to tell anyone. It would ensure she could never become queen one day. Elizabeth snapped into a rage that someone knew her shameful secret and attacked her sister, but though Alice was shocked, now that she knew what spell had been cast upon her dear sister, she knew there must be some way to break it. “She looked upon Elizabeth, watching as she cried and sobbed like a child in her room, all alone. Alice knew Elizabeth had not wanted to be alone, she could see it in her sister’s eyes, so Alice approached Elizabeth, not to hurt her or shame her for being bound by the spell, but to help her bear with it, maybe even overcome it. Alice stayed by her elder sister’s side, taking care of her. Elizabeth was so happy, she showed a great deal of admiration and love for Alice for the first time since the spell had been cast upon her. Alice knew if she continued to be there for Elizabeth, maybe one day the spell would be lifted.” Morgan kept running her hand through my hair well after she had stopped telling the story, looking at me with understanding and sympathy. I was wrong. All this time, I was wrong. All this time I thought Morgan hated me, and all this time I thought she never loved me, and I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong. I could feel the scalding tears running down my cheeks as I tried to wipe them away, but my hands were tucked tightly under the covers. Morgan reached out the back of her index finger, gathering the tears gently. “Morgan,” I sniffled, knowing the story was not yet over, knowing that it was still yet to be written. “What if the spell can’t be lifted? What if… what if the princess doesn’t necessarily want it to be lifted?” Morgan leaned over, hugging me tightly around the neck. “Then I’m sure Alice would stay by Elizabeth’s side. If the spell can’t be broken, maybe she can help make it manageable. That’s what I think she’d do.” No, I thought, the tears coming again as I fought against the covers, pulling them out to hug Morgan back. That’s what you did do. That’s what you had been trying to do and all I did was shut you out. It wasn’t just about wanting to be a baby again, it was everything… I thought I would only get hurt if I tried to open up. I wanted to do everything alone, and I hurt everyone; Mom, Dad, and you. “I’m sorry,” I managed to get out through the maelstrom of my guilt and sorrow. “I’m sorry I said you never loved me. I didn’t know how you felt. I didn’t both to ask. I…” “Shhhhh,” Morgan hushed me with a single finger placed against my lips. “It’s okay, baby girl. Now you know, and you can always remember, I’m here for you whenever you need me.” I nodded softly, snuggling into my covers. “Will you be here in the morning?” “I will,” Morgan stroked my hair a final time. “Now close your eyes and have sweet dreams, and don’t worry about a thing.” I nodded as I closed my eyes and rolled over on my side facing the wall. Morgan shut the door as my nightlight buzzed and filled my room with a gentle blue glow. Comforted that I wasn’t alone, that I didn’t have anything to fear, I began to drift off to sleep. The door opened slightly as I was in between the waking world and the dream world. I wasn’t even sure if it was real, but the voice was distinctly Morgan’s. “Holly,” the words drifted lazily in my mind. “Do you think I’d be a good mommy?” Mommy? I thought, I didn’t understand the question, or if it was real. I struggled to open my eyes, to turn over and see if Holly had asked me that or if I had dreamed it, but the embrace of the sandman was pulling me deeper and deeper from consciousness. I only heard Morgan’s voice once more, and again, I couldn’t tell if I had imagined it or if she had actually said it, but it sounded like I had heard it once before. “Holly is such a good little baby.” I had heard Morgan say that before, not today, but sometime before… when… I searched my mind as I entered the land of dreams, a land that could show me anything I wanted, even things I had long forgotten. Chapter 8 A blinding white light broke the darkness, as intense and brilliant as anything I had ever seen. It pierced through the corners of my closed eyes, the flashes of white making my eyes flicker. As the light forced me awake, I could feel a strange sensation all over my body, something shameful and disgusting. I cringed as I placed a hand down on what felt like a bed, but it felt different than my own bed. My hand lay flat on damp sheets that let off a terrible odor. Moving my legs, feeling the slogging sensation of wet denim between them, I realized where they had come from. I was apparently not wearing diapers. I didn’t like the feeling at all as I lay in the wet bed and I squirmed, opening my eyes. This wasn’t my bed. This wasn’t even my room. I looked at my hand atop the wet sheets. I wasn’t even sure it was my hand. It was so little, so delicate and unmarked without the appearance of hard knuckles. They were the hands of a young child. The hands were attached to smooth little arms that ran up my body and under a purple T-shirt with a picture of Tweety Bird on it. As I moved, I realized the back of the shirt was also wet. I was under a set of plain sky blue sheets, dark blue all around me from my accident. There was no comforter. It was too hot for a comforter, but it wasn’t nearly this hot when I went to bed. Where was I? Who was I? I tried to move, but couldn’t, and I soon realized why I wasn’t terrified of what I was seeing or who I was. I was watching a memory. I listened to the fan buzz in the room, turning on a swivel back and forth across the room, making my fine hair, which was blonde back then, tremble as it blew on me in regular intervals. I recognized this room. I was right that it wasn’t mine, but I wasn’t sure whose it was. My head lifted up and I got my first good look at the room. It was very plain with walls painted yellow and dingy white furniture, bare of any real sign of a human presence. The bed was a twin bed, but my feet didn’t even reach halfway down the mattress and the sole pillow in its matching pillowcase was nearly the size of my entire body. I looked to my right at the window and saw what I thought was the afternoon sunlight blazing into the room. My adult mind was able to remember this place from these details. I didn’t know her name, but she was one of the people who Morgan and I went to daycare at her house when we lived in Arizona. Before I could piece together anymore of where I was and in what time, my body moved, jerking around as if it were terrified, getting on my knees over the large wet spot where I had wet the bed. I didn’t know what to do but kneel there with a feeling that could only be described as true horror. I felt dread in my heart as footsteps came upstairs, one by one, booming like the thunder of an approaching storm, getting louder and more terrifying than the last. Quickly, I threw myself over the bed and pulled the sheets over me as the large foreboding door to the left of me opened and someone walked in. I couldn’t remember the faces of any of the people who babysat me or whose houses I went to for daycare, and the dream did not compensate for that. The face was a misshapen blur, with what I could make out to be poufy brown hair, possibly a perm. I peeked at the door with my eyes open the slightest, thinking they were closed enough that she wouldn’t suspect I was awake, before I knew that never worked. I was hoping she would not notice I was awake, that she would let me sleep and that I could figure that out, but I felt a hand, large and, though gentle, so much more forceful than I had prepared for. I didn’t move an inch, playing dead as it were, but adults are not as easily fooled as kids want to believe, and this babysitter was among them. I couldn’t hear her voice clearly, a garbled amalgamation of various voices of the past, but I could understand the words that registered in my mind. “Come on, Holly,” it called my name, nudging me awake. “Naptime’s over. Don’t you want to play with the other kids?” I remained motionless until my worst fears were realized and the sheets were lifted. I felt all the blood drain from my face and limbs, as if all the life in me were gravitating inward and leaving me a cold, shivering mess of fear and shame. “Holly,” the words registered with feelings of disappointment and anger. “My god, how old are you? Wetting the bed? You stay right there.” If I was in Arizona, that would have put me at the younger end of four years old. I would have been potty trained for a year by now, maybe eighteen months. Of course, I still had accidents, but not during naps, only at night sometimes and on really long car rides when Dad wouldn’t stop and told me to hold it. I was a big girl, I didn’t have wet myself during the day and pretty soon I wouldn’t wet myself at all at night, but for whatever reason that afternoon, I had relapsed to much younger tendencies. Unlike in my adult years, where I took joy in secretly wetting myself and indulging in my adult baby behavior, this was so much different. I wanted to cry. I think I was crying, but I couldn’t tell. There was a deep sadness inside me, a deep regret that I had done something terrible and unforgivable, because when you’re four, well, every mistake that makes an adult upset with you feels like you’ve brought the world crashing down around you. The babysitter’s footsteps were rushed and panicking, the noise only making it sound like I really had done something bad. Eventually, she returned, her thunderous footsteps signifying her approach before she appeared over me like a giant twice my size. Her voice boomed, and though I didn’t understand all of it, I understood I was in trouble. Rolling me over, she placed a towel over me and rolled me back, taking off my shirt, my shorts and my underwear. I didn’t understand what was going on until I heard the snap of a plastic lid and noticed her taking a handful of baby wipes out of a pink tub with the name “Morgan” written on the side in black marker. Exaggerated words of shame and disappointment were rained down on my as I was cleaned up the way a baby would be cleaned up after wetting their diaper, only I had the added disadvantage of being soaked from head to toe. I lay there, squirming and crying and saying “no” for what felt like hours as I was thoroughly wiped down. I was utterly devastated inside at how I was being treated not like a big girl, but a little diaper-wetting baby. Her hands and movements were very rough, as if she did not appreciate that I had put her in a position to do this, but left her no choice, and my whining was most likely not helping matters. It felt like the end of the world, but then came a pause. A soft little voice called from the door as the babysitter went over to the door and picked up a little toddler with tiny, tiny blonde pigtails in a hand-me-down Snoopy shirt and a diaper. “Howwy!” the baby babbled as she reached out at me as the babysitter put her on the dry end of the bed near my head as the babysitter continued to wipe me down. It wasn’t enough that I had to be treated this way, but I knew this little baby. This was Morgan. Morgan was watching me. “Howwy baby!” “That’s right,” the words registered with a sickeningly sweet condescending tone. “Holly is a baby today, just like you. She wet herself during her nap, just like a little baby.” I knew I was crying at this point. Morgan was my little sister and I wanted her to look up to me. How could she look up to me the way I was? She would never like me; she would never want to be my sister. “Howwy ith good widdle baby!” I heard her say, feeling her tiny hand tap down on my forehead, looking up at her little toothy grin as she patted my head softly, praising me for being good for the babysitter, praising me for being cleaned up like a baby. I felt Morgan’s small lips on my forehead as I closed my eyes, and opened them, breathing heavily, back in my own bed, in my own room, with my hand over my chest. I played the dream back over and over, and it never got murkier. Looking deep inside myself, I asked if it was real, and I could not think of a reason that something so clear and elaborate hadn’t really happened. I did live in Arizona, that was what Morgan looked like, and remembering how I was treated made me cringe with a darkly nostalgic sensation that made me incredible uncomfortable, but Morgan… Morgan made me feel better. Morgan made me feel okay and that I didn’t have to be ashamed of it. She smiled at me as I was treated like a baby girl. I didn’t know what time it was as I got out of bed. Morgan would undoubtedly be sleeping upstairs in her old room, so I felt no fear of being caught out of bed as I opened the door and slumped down on the couch, turning on the TV to clear my head as I skimmed through whatever infomercials and 80s sitcom reruns were airing at this ungodly hour. The urge to pee came on somewhere in the middle of an episode of The Cosby Show, but I did not feel like going in my diaper anymore. Taking off the tabs, I walked naked from the waist down to the bathroom and did my business like a proper lady. As I did, I felt a deep emptiness inside that tugged at my heart. Jesus, I thought as I finished up. What the hell is wrong with me? Of course, I knew what was wrong with me now, or at least a big part of it. There was something so soothing yet painful about the memory I had uncovered, as though I had unburdened myself of a great mystery while giving myself the even heavier burden of what I assumed to be the truth. I was sure it was that sense of shame while Morgan praised me that confused me like this, that made it take root in my mind. I couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t have remembered, but even telling myself that did nothing to console how I felt. I turned off the TV as I put my diaper back on and returned to bed. I looked at the window to see day had not yet broken, nor was it close. The only light in the room was still coming from the nightlight. Clasping my eyelids shut, I threw the covers over myself, searching for dreams that did not make me feel so badly, but morning came before I could. For a moment I thought I was having the same dream again, but the hand reaching to wake me was not as strong against my shoulder and I was dry, not just my sheets but also my diaper. I did not feel like the two-year-old I was supposed to be this morning, but Morgan felt like the caretaker just as much as she had the night before. “Rise and shine,” she commanded cheerfully. “The sun is shining and it’s a new day.” I rolled over lazily, looking at Morgan as if she had gone crazy, as if I hadn’t expected this, but Morgan interpreted it as more of my early morning grumpiness, and responded with even more baby talk. “Well, good morning, Miss Grumpy! You want to come upstairs with Miss Morgan and have some breakfast?” I could have played along, reaching to be lifted out of bed or pretending to put up a fight, but instead, I simply sat up, removed the covers and walked to the door. Morgan was perplexed by this, but did not falter in her own duties, pulling me back and checking my diaper. “Wow, someone stayed dry all night,” she said, honestly surprised. “I thought for sure I would be changing a wet diaper first thing this morning.” “It’s fine,” I responded in my normal adult voice. “I don’t need to go.” After twenty-four hours of whining and pouting in negative responses, Morgan was utterly silenced by my incredibly grown-up response. It took her a moment to follow me out of my bedroom and up the stairs that I had already begun to ascend without the need for her handholding. “Wait,” Morgan called, grabbing my hand back. “This isn’t what we agreed to. What’s going on with you?” “Nothing,” I lied to her. “I’m fine.” “You are not fine,” Morgan laughed slightly, pulling me back again. “This isn’t the way you were acting yesterday. I thought you liked being treated like a baby. Isn’t that what you wanted?” “I changed my mind,” I pulled back, trying to escape, but only getting to the top of the stairs before Morgan grabbed me at the top, slamming her hand across the doorframe, barring me so I could not leave the staircase. “Did something happen last night?” Morgan asked, before he own face drained of color. “Was it the story? Was it what I said?” “What you said?” I asked, barely remembering anything after the story. “What are you talking about? No, I’m fine, I just…” “Holly,” Morgan begged me, her voice choked in earnest. “Please don’t shut me out again. I liked our time together yesterday. I liked taking care of you, and how it made it so you opened up to me. Don’t do this again to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” “Nothing’s wrong!” I raised my voice, trying to push past her. “Just let me through!” “Not until you tell me!” she argued, holding me back. Frustrated with myself, with my thoughts, with who I was, I shoved Morgan across from the door, stomping past her across the kitchen before turning around, a safe distance enough away. “Fine!” I screamed, spiraling around to face her. “You really want to know? It’s you, Morgan! The whole reason I am the way I am is because of you!” Morgan looked at me for a moment, her eyes glazed over with confusion as a small smirk emerged, enraging me even more as I clenched my teeth. “What the hell do you think is funny about that?” “What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan asked, more bewildered than anything else. “I did this to you? I bought you all that baby stuff and convinced you to act like one? I did that? Are you serious?” “It’s not funny!” I screamed again, grabbing Morgan away from the wall and pushing her into it again, making the china cabinet in the dining room next to us rattle precariously. Morgan looked at me, deathly cold in her stare. “If you want to talk, we can talk,” she tried to be reasonable. “Sit down and we can talk about this while we eat.” Going with my better judgment, I made my way over to the table where I saw a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar had been prepared for me, along with a sippy cup and that damned airplane spoon. I picked it up and threw it across the living room where it nicked the wall. “I want a real spoon!” I demanded. “I am not a baby!” “You think you’re acting like an adult?” Morgan said, going to the living room to get the babyish utensil. “Because I can assure you, you are most certainly not.” “I don’t care what you think,” I kept my attitude going, not knowing where to draw the line or even how. “You’re not my mother. You don’t have the right to act like it, no matter how much you enjoy it.” “Wait, wait, you think I’m doing this because I want to? You think I wanted to spend my weekend changing my grown sister’s diapers, feeding her and watching her like she wasn’t able to do it herself?” Morgan was actively laughing now, mocking me, as she walked back and put the airplane spoon in front of me defiantly. “You wanted this, Holly. You wanted this before I even got here. Maybe you didn’t want me, but you got me, and you sure seemed pleased as punch about it last night, so I don’t care what you think or how upset with yourself you are – you are not taking this out on me again. Now eat your oatmeal.” I glared at Morgan. I knew she was right, and that just made me burn inside even more. Looking at the oatmeal in front of me, I waved my hand back and slapped it off the table, listening as the plastic bowl rolled around on the floor as Morgan looked at me in horror. I dared her to do something. I wanted her to get mad. I wanted her to end this once and for all and make me realize I am not a baby. I wanted that so badly, but as she raised her hand to slap me as I so rightfully deserved, she stopped. She glared at me and I could see it in her eyes how badly she wanted to do so. Her hand hesitated in the air as I waited for it to come flying down across my face, yet she put her hand down, slowly and trembling all over as she fought to restrain the pent-up anger she felt inside. She looked at me, grabbing her sides as she hunched over the island counter, looking like she was going to explode, both literally and figuratively. “What’s the matter?” I said, getting up from my seat, but Morgan looked at me like I had no right to even ask such a question. “Just sit down!” she ordered me, ready to cry. “I don’t need this stress right now, Holly!” “What are you so upset about?” I asked selfishly, knowing I had to be the one in more turmoil right now than her, but I wasn’t. She turned to me, beet-red as she wobbled over to one of the high-standing chairs at the island and took a seat, bending over and breathing deeply. “Really?” Morgan asked me skeptically, as skeptical as I had asked her the same question moments ago. “You really want to know?” Morgan was perfect compared to me. Whatever she was so visibly upset about what be like cake to what I was dealing with. “It can’t be that ba–” “I’m pregnant,” she spit at me, so violently and angrily and ready to break down. I sat back down, stunned and uncertain that I wasn’t sure what I had just heard. She glared at me again, judging me for my impudence, repeating it again. “Didn’t you hear me?” I heard it loud and clear, but I could not think of anything I could say, anything I should say, but only the thought that my sister who had cared for me as a baby all day yesterday was having a baby of her own. Chapter 9 The seconds ticked by as I sat at the table, looking at Morgan from across the kitchen. Her head was sunk down onto the island counter with her hands over her head, sheltering her from whatever judgment she thought I might put upon her. I, however, couldn’t do something like that to her, not since she hadn’t judged me. More than that, my silence was a search for answers that I could only obtain if I asked questions, but I couldn’t find the air to breathe that would let me speak to her. I could only sit there for what felt like hours. After a few failed attempts to find the words in my throat, my parted lips finally elicited a question that pierced through the uncomfortable silence. “How…” I started, stopping, waiting for her to look up, but she remained hidden under her hands. “How long have you known?” At first, I thought Morgan wasn’t going to answer me, but after a minute, she seemed to find her own voice once again as well. “A week,” the words came out in such a guttural manner, as if she had been choking on them. I blinked, feeling some moisture at the corner of my eyes – not tears, not yet at least. “How far along?” I continued asking the questions swirling around in my head. “Two weeks,” Morgan responded, much quicker and much clearer than last time. I nodded, taking a deep breath before I asked another question. “Am I the first…?” “Yes,” she stated sharply and outright, almost annoyed. I hesitated to ask another question, but curiosity got the best of me. “So Mom and Dad don’t…” “No,” she said, finally lifting her head, looking like she was ready to cry, or that maybe she had been crying silently for the past few minutes. I looked down at the table, away from Morgan’s bitter stare, feeling ashamed with myself for thinking I was the only person with problems in our family, a thought that was punctuated far more cruelly when Morgan called me out. “Happy now you’re not the only screw-up in this family?” “I never said you were perfect,” I responded, trying to save face, but it was already far too late for that. Morgan glared at me, her brow furrowing upon hearing that. “What was it you said to me Friday?” she recalled, her voice deep with spite. “About my perfect fucking life?” I winced, ready to cry myself. I fought back the tears as best I could, knowing I had no right to do so right now. I tightened my hands into fists in my lap, trying to squeeze out the pain to no avail. “I’m sorry,” I spit my apology out, as though it was burning me from inside and I needed to get it out of me. “I didn’t know.” “No shit,” Morgan muttered, crossing her arms and laying her head back down over them, sick of me. I couldn’t blame her in the slightest. I could only imagine what I looked like from her perspective, whining about my problems as if I was the only one who had them, bitter at the people who wanted to help me. I undoubtedly was as pathetic as I felt. All she had wanted to do was help me, and I constantly looked at it like she had an ulterior motive. It wasn’t like she gave me any hints that that was the case… no, wait. No, she had. I almost forgot, but no, that wasn’t my imagination, was it? I looked up at Morgan in her sheltered state, my curiosity again eating at me from inside. “So that wasn’t my imagination,” I questioned her seriously. “You really did ask me if you would be a good mom?” “It was stupid. Forget it,” she replied, confirming my suspicions. She did ask me that, after an entire day of treating me like a real toddler, she asked me if she’d be a good mother. There was no way that was a coincidence any longer. “Is that what all this was?” I began to speak more confidently, no longer feeling like this was all my fault. “I wanted to hear it from someone who I could trust to tell me the truth,” Morgan’s words bubbled up from the granite countertop. “Are you planning to keep it then?” I asked in such a nonchalant tone, that I immediately regretted it. Morgan peeked up from the resting place of her arms, eyeing me like I was an idiot before sinking her head back down on top of them. I was preparing to apologize, opening my mouth when Morgan’s response finally came, broken and painful. “I don’t know.” I knew better than to push that topic, but Morgan’s actions and how they affected me were not something I could just as easily ignore. “Did you…” I stopped, wanting to choose my words carefully. “Were you using this weekend as a chance to help you decide?” “It’s not like I planned any of this,” Morgan fell back on that excuse. Of course she didn’t plan this. I wasn’t an idiot. “I just thought…” “So you used me,” I interrupted softly, accusing her outright. This brought her head upright. She looked at me, incredulous that I would even dare to say such a thing after everything she had said. Maybe if I wasn’t selfish, I would give her the benefit of the doubt on everything, but I was selfish and I wanted answers to the things she had done that affected me. “Oh, give me a break,” she huffed, placing a hand on her forehead, exasperated. “Stop saying it like that, like you didn’t want it.” “What I wanted doesn’t change the fact that you took advantage of it,” I asserted myself, not backing down from any guilt-tripping she would put upon me. I may have been in the wrong on Friday, but it didn’t make her any better, using me like a guinea pig for her life decisions. Morgan looked aside, annoyed with my line of reasoning. “You make it sound like I bullied you into this.” “Didn’t you? Holding my attacking you over my head so you could test out your parenting skills?” I reminded her, the same way she was reminding me. I wasn’t going to be the bad guy if she was just as guilty as I was. I waited for her to snap back at me, but once again I was foiled. Morgan sighed, her gaze becoming downcast as she looked down on the countertop, avoiding my line of sight. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded. Seeing her look so defeated made me feel I had given her the wrong impression rather than feel like I had proven my point, and I was just as guilty for allowing her to go on with my treatment, and in some instance, even encouraging it. “It’s not like I hated it,” I admitted half-heartedly. Morgan laughed, closing her eyes. “That’s an understatement.” “But you still took advantage of it,” I affirmed, wanting to be absolutely clear about that point. Morgan though did not seem to feel much guilt over that matter now that she had fessed up to it. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” she asked, putting the spotlight back on me. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t your whole plan this weekend to give yourself the full baby treatment?” She was right, but not entirely. “I told you, this was the first time I was going all out,” I reminded her. “Until now, I would just sneak a diaper here or there in the middle of the night, maybe suck my pacifier on nights when I knew no one would come to wake me up in the morning. Living with Mom and Dad doesn’t exactly give me ample opportunities for this, you know, and you… you just went all out and barely gave me any choice.” “So I went too far, is that it?” Morgan asked for clarification. “No,” I sighed, putting my hand on my forehead this time, rubbing at it, trying to find the exact words for how I felt, but the truth was this feeling was not nearly as simple as I wished it would be. “No, I liked all of it, but that’s what I hated most.” “I don’t understand,” Morgan replied. I wasn’t surprised. “I didn’t choose to be like this, Morgan,” I did my best to explain. “And truthfully, sometimes I hate being this way. It feels like I’ve given up, like I failed at growing up and this is all I have left. It’s comforting for a while, but then I just hate myself for it.” “This isn’t all you have,” Morgan tried to reassure me like yesterday, but I found out too hard to believe, even more so when she dared to put herself in my shoes. “You just hit a big bump in the road, same as me. You don’t see me in a diaper.” No, I thought, grimacing as I questioned whether I should tell her the full truth. No, you wouldn’t be. You were never put in a position that made you question if you were still a baby, were you? “Holly?” Morgan called my name, my silence having gone longer than I realized, but it was that push that pushed me to tell it to her straight. “I had a dream last night,” I began to explain. “It was about when we lived in Arizona, but it was so much clearer than any dream I’ve ever had. It was more like a memory. I’m not sure how much of it was real, if any of it was real, but in it, I wet the bed at the house we went to for daycare when we lived there. The babysitter stripped me and wiped me clean and you and her both said what a good baby I was, even though I wasn’t a baby, even though I didn’t want to be a baby. Still, you praised me for it. The fact that it made you happy made me happy, despite how much I hated it.” Morgan didn’t know how to respond to this, looking at me confused, like she was trying to remember it herself, despite having only been two, which is exactly the reasoning she decided to use. “Even if that did happen, you can’t blame me for something that happened before I could remember anything at all.” “I don’t,” I admitted reluctantly. “But that’s why I feel like this today. I feel like I’m being encouraged not to grow up, to stay like this forever…” The moisture gathered at the corner of my eyes again. This time, I was sure it was not a false alarm as my voice cracked. “I think there might really be a spell on me and that I won’t ever grow up.” My voice broke as I felt the first tear roll down my cheek. Looking pathetic, crying in nothing but a T-shirt and a diaper, Morgan came away from the island and joined me at the kitchen table where she had sat across from me at mealtimes all day yesterday. She placed her hand out towards mine, though did not take it, seeming to pull back at the last minute. “You’ll grow up,” she told me, hunched over the table so I could see her face while I stared down at the childish placemat in front of me, mocking me in the face of Morgan’s words. “Everything I said last night was how I really felt. I don’t hate you, and I never did. I love you, Holly, but hearing all this from you… do you hate me?” I winced, squeezing my eyes to milk the last of the tears out of my eyes so I wouldn’t have to keep crying. “No,” I answered. “I just… I always hated that we had nothing in common. I hated that you were better than me and more popular than me. I hated that we were so different… but that was all in my head, wasn’t it?” “Holly,” she spoke softly, putting her hand on top of mine. “Honest and truthful, would you rather this weekend had never happened?” “I don’t know,” I whispered, a slight headache starting to form, prompting me to find a way to end this painful conversation. “I’m more confused than ever now.” “You’re not alone,” Morgan squeezed my hand encouragingly. “All I wanted was to see if I could do a good job taking care of a baby full time by taking care of you, but now I don’t know. I don’t think any of this has helped. It’s just made things harder.” It killed me inside to see Morgan like this, because it meant I was right. Weally were the same, maybe not on the surface but inside we were two peas in a pod; stubborn, selfish, confused, and lost. I knew how that felt and I knew I would be remiss if I let her feel that way alone. “You did do a good job,” I answered. “You did a great job. Morgan, I haven’t felt so loved and cared for in years, and I have no doubt you would make a great mom.” “Then why aren’t you showing it?” Morgan asked sincerely. I pondered this question with sadness for the answer that remained unchanged through all of this. “Because I can’t be like this and be the way I want to be at the same time.” Morgan squeezed my hands tight and let loose a revelation from her lips; “Why do you have to choose? Why not just be you?” I thought about who I was for a moment. Someone who had scraped by out of college, who hadn’t ever held a real job, who had a passion for her art but gave up when she was bullied out of it, who had to rely on her parents for a living, who enjoyed watching preschool cartoons and wearing diapers and sucking her pacifier at night before bed. I was a complete mess. The words cracked out from my mouth as I closed my eyes, unable to bear whatever look Morgan would have for me. “I don’t know who “me” is.” My heart sank as Morgan let go of my hand, leaving me alone with my own admittance that I couldn’t keep my life in one piece, and was helpless to watch it crumble down around me at such a young age. I was beyond help. I would be little baby Holly forever. It was the only thing I was any good at. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind as my eyes snapped open, gasping as Morgan embraced me tightly from behind the chair, her lips close to my ear that she could gently whisper exactly what she thought of my opinion of myself. “You’re my big little sister,” she told me, pure and sincere. “You are a creative, aspiring adult trying to find her place in the world and a playful baby girl that finds wonders in things most of us have already forgotten. If you were to choose to be one or the other, you wouldn’t be you anymore. The only one who wants you to choose, Holly, is you, and I won’t let you do that. If you don’t know who you are anymore, I’ll always be here to remind you.” I cried for a while after that while Morgan held me close. She never hushed me, giving me all the time I needed to cry out all of my self-loathing and fear of who I was and who I was becoming, as if it was something I had to be ashamed of. She never let go, not for one single moment, until I had finished. “You said you’d stay by my side,” I sniffled as I finished my bawling. “Did you mean that?” “Every word,” Morgan whispered softly to me. My lips quivered as I took my hands and placed them on Morgan’s arms gently. “Then… is it okay if I stay by yours?” Morgan let go as I stood up and turned to face her. We hugged for the first time that could remember. We held each other so tightly, remembering and sealing our unconditional love for each other despite all of our flaws and failures as siblings beforehand. Morgan held my hand as we let go, looking at me with hope in her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after today, but… just for now, just until I have to leave, can you stay my baby Holly?” The tears nearly returned as I covered my mouth, nodding as I hugged Morgan again, while she patted my head gently, soothing me in her arms. “There there,” she cooed as she held me. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Chapter 10 The return to baby Holly was nearly instant, now that there were no more secrets or shame between Morgan and I. As she patted my head, I let my body weight go on top of Morgan. She nearly stumbled, holding me up as I looked at her with pouty eyes. “Miss Morgan, I’m hungwy,” I pouted, knowing full well my breakfast was still all over the floor. That was in the past though, and Morgan helped me into my chair, pushing me in as she went to one of the kitchen drawers and wet it down under the kitchen sink. I sat there, playing with my airplane spoon and zooming it around playfully. Morgan smiled, ruffling my hair as she walked behind me and began to clean up the spilled oatmeal, cooling on the floor. “When I’m done with this, I’ll make you another bowl,” she told me, on her hands and knees on the hardwood floor. “And no more messes. You’re going to eat every spoonful, okay?” “Okays!” I announced in a loud voice, oblivious to ideas such as indoor voices as I made airplane noises and crashed the spoon into the table. Morgan chuckled a little as she finished cleaning up the mess on the floor and made her way back to the kitchen. “Is there anything special you want in your oatmeal, sweetie?” Morgan asked as she began to make another serving. “Bwown sugar! Bwown sugar” I demanded, banging the spoon on the plastic placemat in front of me, chanting it over and over again until Morgan came back to me, holding back her laughter as she took the spoon away from me, this time with little resistance. “Okay, okay, brown sugar it is,” Morgan said. “And booberries!” I added, thinking about it. Morgan turned around, walking to the kitchen to see if we had any blueberries, but I already knew they were there. After all, I was the one who bought them to have this weekend. “Look what I found!” Morgan announced, presenting the blueberry package like one of those prize models on game shows. I clapped my hands, playing along with the idea that I didn’t know they were there. “Yay! Booberries!” I babbled, slapping my hands on the placemat now that my spoon was gone. Morgan can’t take my hands away, I thought with a devilish grin as I waited for my breakfast. The oatmeal was ready in a matter of minutes and I watched impatiently, bouncing in my seat as Morgan walked back with a new plastic bowl of the hearty mush, so fresh off the stove that steam was rising off the top. “Bweakfast! Bweakfast!” “Not yet,” Morgan chided me as she placed the bowl out of my reach. “We need to make sure it’s cool enough so we don’t burn your tongue? You don’t want that, do you?” “No!” I announced, grabbing at my mouth fearfully. “No burn!” “Okay, so how about a banana first?” Morgan said, pulling one out from behind her “Nanna!” I clapped my hands as she peeled it, breaking it off into chunks and placing them on the placemat for me to eat. I grabbed at them with no regard to my strength, mashing them in my hands as I tried putting my hands into my mouth, still holding onto the piece, clumsily getting mashed banana all over my face and hands. “Holly!” Morgan put her hands on her hips, looking at me sternly. “What did I say about messes?” “No mowe?” I looked up at her innocently, gumming at the backside of my index and middle finger. Morgan sighed and got the baby wipes, only taking care of my hands for the time being. Surely she knew I wasn’t going to let my face stay clean either. “That’s right,” she said in a patient, teaching tone as she scrubbed my hands clean. “And no more messes means we have to stay clean. Can you stay clean for me and not get messy anymore?” “Twy,” I answered, whimpering a little bit, resisting the adult idea of responsibility and consequences. “Twy okays?” “Yes,” Morgan said, disposing of the dirty wipes and fetching the airplane spoon from the island counter. “Trying is okay, and Miss Morgan will be very proud of you if you try your best.” “Okays,” I said, doing my best as Morgan placed spoonful after spoonful of creamy warm oatmeal in my mouth. Some of it spilled just as a result of how careful one needs to be when spoon-feeding, but Morgan could tell I really was trying. Only once did she jab the back of my throat with the spoon, which I coughed, spitting some food out on the placemat. “Holly,” she looked at me warily, warning me with her tone. “Was that trying?” “I didn’t do it on purpose!” I blurted out, defending myself. “The spoon hit me in the back of my mouth!” “Oh, Holly,” Morgan said, stroking my hair as I looked at her, afraid of being scolded. “If I do that, let me know, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” I tried not to spend too much time regretting that I didn’t say anything about the painful spoon-feeding sooner. Once I had said something, Morgan did a much more careful job, pausing when she thought the spoon was in enough so I could close my mouth and she could pull the spoon back through my lips. This wasn’t only so much easier for me, but it was even a little fun, smiling at Morgan with little bits of mush on my lips. “Good girl!” Morgan announced, looking at me with excitement that I then mimicked in the fullest. “You ate everything!” Because you didn’t gag me this time, I thought with a bit of an inner smirk as Morgan wiped my face clean and pulled out my chair, setting me loose on the living room to color and listen to music. I didn’t feel like just drawing in the lines today and turned to the back of the coloring book to the last page. The back of the buffer page at the beginning of the book was happily blank. Ripping it out, I began to choose through my crayons carefully, being extra careful as I didn’t have the luxury of erasing sketch lines. “What are you drawing?” Morgan asked, standing over my shoulder all of a sudden. My eyes bulged as I threw myself over the fragile paper, looking up at Morgan with a burning red face. “You can’t look!” I exclaimed. “It’s a surprise!” “Oh,” Morgan said, teasing me by trying to peek through the space between my head and my arms. This only made me more defiant as I tightened myself up as much as I could without crinkling the paper. “Can I see it when you’re done?” “Only if you don’t peek anymore,” I said. Morgan agreed and sat down on the couch, watching TV in full sight of me. I adjusted myself so the only thing she could see if me was my puffy diapered butt. I pretty much went through the entire Crayola rainbow usually spending only a minute or so with each color. I hoped I would be able to smear the colors like paint, but those crayon people were smart with kids and I found they didn’t smudge as easily as I’d like. This made my work more difficult, but also more rewarding once it was finished. It was not my finest work, far from it, but I wanted to believe Morgan’s words from yesterday. I wanted to draw again because it made me happy, and looking at the drawing I had spent the better part of two hours working on, I was proud of it. It was the first thing I had drawn in years that I wanted to show off. Crawling to my feet, ignoring the carpet marks set into my legs, I toddled over to Morgan, holding the picture behind my back. “Miss Morgan! Miss Morgan!” I jumped up and down, shaking the home entertainment system behind me, to which I immediately stopped. “Miss Morgan, I got a surprise for you!” Morgan turned down the volume on the television as she placed the remote down and gave me her full attention, putting her hands on her lap. “What is it, sweetie?” “You gotta close your eyes,” I ordered her. She did as I told promptly. I giggled as the paper rustled as I held it out in front of me, arms fully outstretched and displaying my picture in front of Morgan. “Okay, open them!” Morgan did, and I couldn’t even begin to explain the range of emotions she felt looking at it. It was a fairly simple drawing I thought, not very complex since I couldn’t sketch it out first. I drew myself as a two-year old in a pink sleeper with a hood that made me look like a teddy bear, being held up by Morgan as she was currently, spinning me around in the middle of a baby pink nursery, both of us with the biggest smiles on our faces, with little curling arrows pointing out which one was “me” and “Miss Morgan”. At the top, scrawled in large crude letters: I LUV YU, MISS MORGAN Morgan took the picture from me, holding it carefully in her hands as she looked over the picture and all its meanings. I held my hands behind my back, bending in and out as I waited to be told what she thought of it, expecting nothing but praise. “Do you like it?” I prompted impatiently. Morgan sat there with the picture in her lap for a few moments before closing her eyes and nodding feverishly. Reaching her hands up, she took mine and pulled me close. “Come here, kiddo,” she sniffled, hugging me tightly at the sign of full appreciation for her and all she was capable of. I blushed in her embrace, hugging her back as she continued to pat and rub my back until she let go. “That was a very nice surprise,” she said, wiping the beginning of tears from her eyes as she got up from the couch. “I think such a pretty picture calls for a very yummy lunch.” “Yummy!” I jumped up and down a little, following Morgan to the kitchen as she folded up the picture and placed it in her purse for safekeeping. Turning around, she scooted me back to the living room. “Can you be my good girl and clean up your crayons while Miss Morgan makes lunch?” Morgan asked me. Of course I wanted to be a good girl, so I smiled with a really big grin, nodding and scampering back to the living room, toppling over on the floor, making everything in the room shake and rattle. “Easy there, baby girl!” Morgan called out from the kitchen as she got out some plates. “Good girls don’t run around like wild animals.” “I know!” I called as I quietly cleaned up my coloring supplies, making sure everything was in the plastic bin and the lid sealed on tight. I pretended to grunt and heave as I “tried” to lift the bin and carry it back to the laundry room slowly and carefully. Morgan turned around from her preparations, smiling as she took out some slices of bread from the bag on the counter. “Are you putting them away for me?” Morgan asked, as if it wasn’t something I could normally do. “What good manners! I think I’ll get someone a treat with their lunch.” I giggled excitedly as I put the plastic bin away in the top cabinet of the laundry room as I headed back to the kitchen, pulling out my chair and sitting myself down. I tried to pull myself in, bouncing the chair up and down until Morgan came up to me and pushed me in. “It’s okay to ask for help, sweetie. That’s what I’m here for.” “I know,” I said with a cute little lilt as Morgan placed lunch in front of me: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a cup of applesauce, a sippy cup of milk, and an… oatmeal chocolate chip cookie! I reached for the cookie instinctively, only to hear the gentle scold of Morgan’s voice. “Ah ah ah,” she warned me. “Not until you eat the rest of your lunch.” I smiled, reaching for my sandwich. It was a whole sandwich and I frowned a bit. It looked too big for a little girl like me and I held it up to Morgan, dissatisfied. “What’s the matter, Holly?” she asked. “Is something wrong with your sandwich?” “Too big,” I muttered softly. Morgan smiled, patting my head and got up from the table. She returned with a knife and cut the sandwich into quarters so I could eat them more easily. I took one of the quarters and began to nibble on it. “Miss Morgan, why do I get a sandwich?” “Because you’re going to be a big girl soon,” Morgan said, resting her chin in her hands as she watched me intently. She was right, it was getting to noon and I’d have to start cleaning up and get ready for Mom and Dad to get home that evening. As glad as I was about how things turned out with Morgan, I did not want to go through it again with my parents. As I ate my applesauce like I was supposed to, dribbling only the tiniest bit, I placed my spoon down, looking down at the rest of my lunch nervously as I felt a rumble in my tummy, just like the one yesterday morning. “Holly, is something wrong?” Morgan asked, placing her hand on top of mine. I looked away. It wasn’t like doing it yesterday made it any less embarrassing, but Morgan took my hand and squeezed it tight, and I knew I couldn’t just ignore her. “Holly, do you have to potty?” I nodded softly, wincing as I squirmed on the kitchen chair. Morgan took the spoon away, pulling my lunch back and holding both my hands. “I’m right here, sweetie,” she told me comfortingly as my face turned red. “Just go ahead, and I’ll change you as soon as you’re done.” “But my cookie…” I whined with the one-track mind only a toddler could have. “Will I still get my cookie?” “Of course you will,” Morgan cooed as she held my hands tightly. “Just relax. I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen. You trust me, don’t you?” I nodded quietly as I did my best to relax, focusing only on the warmth of Morgan’s hands as my tummy bubbled and tightened. Feeling the pressure, I let my body coax it out naturally, but my eyes widened as the natural progression of my body filled up more than I expected. Very rude sounds not associated with good girls rose from beneath my seat. I could have sworn I felt my bottom rising off the chair as the slimy warm mess poured out of me. Morgan’s calming, accepting smile seemed to sink as I looked downward with tremendous hesitation. “Morgan,” I announced, moving only the slightest and feeling the mess shift. “I think I made the Top 10.” Morgan looked at me like she didn’t believe me until the smell reached her nose. “Oh, oh god,” she gasped as she waved her hand frantically in front of her face. “Downstairs, downstairs now.” “But my cookie,” I whined. Morgan took the cookie with us as we went downstairs to get changed, checking all the while down the staircase to make sure I wasn’t leaking out the sides. Fortunately, the Bambino was holding up nicely even if it didn’t feel like it. Spreading the changing mat out on the floor, she made sure the diaper would only touch the mat once it was opened before returning to my room for my diapering supplies. Arms full upon return, Morgan spread the various tools of the task before her, and sighed as she stared at my diaper, tinted just the faintest bit of brown at the seat. “Alright, let’s do this.” “Cookie,” I interrupted her as she began to tear the tapes off, reaching for the cookie over by the bottle of powder. “Can you wait until I’m done?” Morgan asked, tickling my sides, but all I did was squirm and reach further over. “Cookie!” I squirmed and reached, nearly turning over with my diaper half-open. Morgan panicked and reached out to grab my waist and turn me back over. I guess it must have been bad if she was that worried about it spilling out. She didn’t even think twice to hand me my cookie to nibble on while she changed me. As the diaper came down, so did the smell of it rise up, hitting us both in the nose. It almost made eating the cookie a bad thing, almost. I was able to bear with the smell as the wipes came out over and over again as Morgan lifted my legs and began to wash my diaper places nice and clean. As the change progressed, I noticed Morgan didn’t seem all that phased. Halfway through my cookie, I pouted a little bit as she spread my legs and started to clean my nethers. “Not a Top 10?” Morgan chuckled, cleaning my lips with a delicate touch. “You really want to know what a Top 10 is?” I nodded, wriggling around a bit as Morgan scooted over to me and bent down, whispering the details in my ears. My smile of curiosity quickly turned to a look of abject disgust and horror. “No!” I gasped, nearly dropping my cookie. “That’s disgusting! Little kids actually…” “Yes,” Morgan laughed, now that I knew the awful truth. “Still think you could make the Top 10?” “I’ll pass,” I sighed, finishing my cookie. “That’s my girl,” Morgan said as she pulled the dirty diaper from my bottom and replaced it with a fresh one. I giggled as she powdered me heavily, to the point once the diaper was taped up and she patted my bottom to signal me to get up, that some powder clouds escaped. “Mmm,” Morgan said, patting my diaper again. “Someone smells pretty for their nap?” “Already?” I panicked, sitting up as Morgan wrapped up the dirty diaper and cleaned her hands with a wipe. “But it feels like…” “It went fast, didn’t it?” Morgan said, helping me to my feet. “Almost too fast.” I nodded, sucking my thumb and pouting as I was led to my bedroom and tucked tightly into bed. Morgan made sure I had Abba and smoothed the covers. “Do you need anything?” “Paci,” I mumbled. Morgan nodded and got my pacifier, placing it in my mouth, stroking my hair to help me sleep. “I’m going to go clean up so Mom and Dad don’t know what happened,” Morgan told me as I closed my eyes. “I have to go after that, so I’ll probably be gone by the time you wake up. Are you going to be okay?” I nodded softly, even though I really didn’t want Morgan to go. I wanted her to stay forever. I didn’t want our parents to come home. I wanted to live here with her in this state of bliss for the rest of my life, even knowing that in a few hours, I will be right back to wanting to grow up, but right now, I wouldn’t mind if time just stopped. “I think so,” I said, encouraging Morgan to think I would be okay, but I wasn’t only concerned about myself. “What about you?” Morgan sighed, pulling her hand away and looking away from me wistfully. “There are still some things I need to consider, but having you in my corner makes me feel a little better.” I reached my own hand out to Morgan, stroking her hair the same way she stroked mine. I guess we really do imitate the things that we see in the way we know they make us feel. Morgan turned back to me, smiling but looking like she was about ready to cry herself. “I’m here for you whenever you need it,” I told her, sincere as I could possibly be. “And I you,” Morgan replied, reminding me who the caretaker was and who was the baby girl. “I love you, big little sister. Sweet dreams.” I blushed as I snuggled deep under my covers as Morgan kissed me on the forehead. “I love you too, little big sister. Thank you for everything.” She closed the door slowly, lingering on one final look of me as her baby girl before she left me to my nap. Because of the lack of sleep the night before and all the excitement of the morning, my dreams found me far more easily this time and with much more happiness. There wasn’t much about the dream, other than Morgan and I were playing in the backyard rolling a ball across to one another. It was so simple, but so comforting. I think it was the first time I thought of my sister as more than someone I was bound to by blood. She was so much more, and I felt so thankful that I was able to see so many sides of my sister this weekend, and made me feel more close to her than I had ever been with her before. The dream did not last long, as the constant sunlight through the blinds made my nap a short but refreshing one. As I got up out of bed I looked around only to see all my supplies were packed in their boxes with a small note that read “Hide them ASAP” I giggled and moved them deep into my closet as I left my room. The basement smelled like lavender, and I guessed Morgan had Febreezed the carpet and the ottoman after my final change. Walking upstairs felt strange without Morgan’s guidance, but I managed as I reached the top. The kitchen and living room were immaculate. Mom and Dad wouldn’t suspect a thing. There was only one thing I noticed that wasn’t taken care of. Twinkle, my Happy Meal toy, was sitting on the corner of the island on top of a folded piece of paper. Lifting her up, I noticed my name was written on the paper in Morgan’s handwriting. Unfolding it, I read what it had to say Dear Holly, I’ll make this short because I really don’t know what else to say at this point that I haven’t already. I meant everything. You are so much more than you think you are. I don’t want you to limit yourself to who you can become, and I won’t limit myself either. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever I do, it will be because I made that choice myself, and I want the same for you. Unlike me though, you don’t have to make a choice. Nobody will ask you to be one thing or be the other. You can be you. You have a freedom I would give the world for right now… Holly, don’t limit yourself and don’t be ashamed of where you are in life. You may have fallen down, but just like any baby girl learning to walk, you should know to get right back up with that big adorable smile of yours. I believe in you, big little sister. I love you. - Morgan I held the letter in my hands for a letter with Twinkle, reading it over and over. In the empty, silent house, alone with nothing but me and all my thoughts, I held Twinkle in between my hands and squeezed them together like a prayer. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but with Morgan by my side, I knew I would find myself someday. The End