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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.

Here is the first chapter of my brand new LittleMonstrumVerse ABDL story - Arbitrio Sanguinis! My 11th novel so far, and 3rd novel in the 'LittleMonstrumVerse' series I've been writing. Set after the Infernum Infantem Christmas Special, we see my monster universe through another pair of eyes... ones looking for a special someone. Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them. They really help with the motivation to write more! Don't forget you get get 2 week early access (so 4 chapters) to my main ongoing story, if you subscribe to my Subscribestar. Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Ennui Arbitrio Sanguinis – LittleFallenPrincess “Luce…?” “Lucy…” “Miss Piddlepants…” “Baby bloodsucker…” “Mushtush…” I could hear them all trying to get my attention, trying to tease me into responding… but I found it hard to break my eye contact with the floor. I was currently winning my staring contest with it, and I wasn’t going to let myself lose now, not this late into the game. Because I play to win… and totally not to avoid looking at all my happy friends with all their happy families and partners… totally not to avoid thinking about how everyone has someone but me… totally not to see all my friends sitting on their Mummy’s or Daddy’s laps… feeling happy… little… loved… Nope. Because that would make me a grumpy sourpuss. And I didn’t want to bring down the mood of the event by telling anyone what was really going on in my head. I had been hiding it for the longest time now and no matter what… I wasn’t going to bother any of them with it. Especially not since that whole awkward Christmas party that Nia had to deal with. I wasn’t going to add to her plate right now, she was still in her blissful post-engagement period where she and Vic couldn’t stop bragging about the proposal or the ring that Nia wore on her finger. Her stupid adorable finger. Totally not salty that everyone I knew was either married, getting married, or getting serious with a partner or partner. Totally not salty at the fact I hadn’t dated anyone in a long time, not since my shitty abusive ex. And no, I’m not counting those few I found online that I stupidly got my hopes up about… only to be disappointed and alone. Totally not salty. Because I can’t be. I can’t ruin this for them. Or bother them with it. I’m already a bother. They’re already so accepting of me, and so nice to me… I don’t want to ever bother them more than I already do. So for now, I’ll continue staring at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, making it look like I’m in my own little world, unable to hear them. They’ll stop eventually, then I’ll apologise like I always do, and then they can move on and I can go on… avoiding looking at my best friends in the world because they’re happy and I’m just… un… un… …Unloveable. Thankfully, as predicted, they moved on with their conversation and let me be, discussing a camping trip they were planning for later this year, sometime in late summer. No doubt I’d be invited, but honestly… I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go. Not on my own anyway. It’ll just be the same as these events, they all get super romantic and couple-y… and I’m left on my own… with no dance partner to dance with. That’s all I want in life. Or in my case, un-life. In my long un-life as a vampire, I’ve dated, I’ve found partners… but none of them lasted. At first I tried to protect my humanity, focusing on dating only humans. But the ones who know about our supernatural world aren’t all amazing allies, the few I did try dating early on in my vampiric life… were only out to get turned. They had been familiars of other vampires, and since vampires like to promise to turn them but end up never doing it… they seek outside sources. So of course they all used me to get turned… At least I realised after the first one that I was being played, so that quickly stopped and I moved away from dating humans altogether. Instead I focused on our own community. But this was at the start of the last century… so it was a bit more difficult to find someone. Much smaller dating pools. I tried dating a couple of vanillas… but they freaked out and ran when I started being myself, my more… infantile self… At the time, I wasn’t even aware of this kink I have, or my little side, I just tried dating someone who was a bit more serious than me, and looking back now… yeah, they were vanilla. So I gave up dating monstrum too, well… vanilla ones (though again, didn’t realise until later that they were known as ‘vanilla’, I just didn’t want to date anyone overly serious who couldn’t stand my childishness). Which limited my dating pool even further, as it was shortly after this that I met my ex, the one I ran into again last year. That was a thing, she introduced me to this kink and the world of kink, that’s it. End of story. Nothing else to say. So I gave up dating again, even kinksters this time. For decades I had nothing… no one… at least no one who didn’t abuse me but let’s not talk about those two relationships just yet… then I met Beth. I thought I felt a spark between us… but that ended up just being a best friendship. I’m not complaining, I love Beth to bits, as I do all my friends… but I still wanted that bit extra. It hurt even more when I set her and her wife up together, before Susie had died and got resurrected as a zombie, but I knew they’d be a perfect match. I mean me and Bea had a very very brief thing, but we very quickly realised we weren’t really that into each other and were happier as friends. So around that period of my life I just stopped dating, focusing entirely on making friends… but that didn’t really get me anywhere either. I had Beth and Bea and that was about it. Eventually I’d meet Susie when I went to University, but I still didn’t date anyone. Then Grim and Abby came into my life and I moved in with them. And for the longest time, I’ve kept my sadness hidden inside me, trying to appear as strong as possible to all my friends, so as to not bring them down into my depression and my loneliness bubble. At this point I was sure I’d never find anyone. Nia and Victoria had this amazing backstory about them meeting and getting together. Demons, summonings, cults… I mean Vic even died for Nia, and Nia went to Hell for her… and that’s not even getting into her whole ‘being a fallen angel’ thing. Which I still can’t get over. Freakin’ angels! Susie and Beth too. Susie found out about Beth being a Witch, died, got resurrected, and then got hunted by Death. So Beth created this Sanctuary, a place where monstrum from all over can come for… well… Sanctuary. They can come here to hide out from hunters, they can come here after escaping abusive partners or after humans have found out about them. Or… they can just come for help regarding anything. And Susie and Beth will help them, no questions asked. Like… these two are made for each other, and I love it… but it also breaks my heart that I don’t have an awesome partner with an awesome backstory. Even Abby has her partners, who had both turned up for today’s littles event, both fussing over the very blushy little kitsune. They really treated the girl like their daughter, fussing over her and spoiling her and making sure she’s never wanting for anything. And from how I’ve heard Abby talk about them… she isn’t just using them for her money. Not that she’s that kind of person anyway, but she genuinely loves these two. So whilst she doesn’t have an awesome backstory full of death and sacrifice and love… she has TWO people loving her with all their heart. Why does she get two… when I get… no one. Even Grim is here with his Daddy, for the first time. Turns out his Daddy is very new to all this, and was very nervous about coming to an event, but Grimfang managed to convince his fellow werewolf boyfriend to attend today. They have this adorable story about how they met, sounding like they had met in a freaking romantic comedy. Like… Come on! Where’s my romantic comedy? Where’s my caregiver? Where’s my tale of defying Death for love? No… Instead I was stuck here, in this meaningless existence, slowly dwindling away day by day. It was a struggle to even eat, often my housemates would need to bring me… ‘sustenance’… from our ethical supplier, and pressure me to drink it. Because most days consisted of me getting out of bed (no, I know I’m a vampire, but only old school vamps sleep in coffins), going on my PC, playing games… then going to bed when the sun comes up again. I barely left my room, going back into my old ways, back to before I started opening up. Then Nia came into my life and gave me a little hope that maybe I’d find someone… so I put myself out there… only to be massively disappointed. Then her engagement happened and I got another boost in morale… but so far it isn’t going well. There just aren’t that many single Mummies out there, especially not monstrum ones. So I’ll just continue being alone. Feeling this hopelessness but keeping it bottled up insi… “Luce…” Nia said, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of my seat. Before I could respond, complain… or even react, she pulled me away from our little group in the corner, past some littles that were playing in the ballpit, past Medusa, who was colouring in a picture for her Mummy, and towards the plastic adult-sized playhouse in the far corner. She poked her head in, whilst still holding my hand, to check if it was clear, before turning around and smiling at me. “All clear! Come on, grumpy pants…” She said, pulling me into the playhouse and closing the big red plastic door. “Sit. Now!” I did as she said, and sat in the corner on my thickly padded butt, my red babydoll dress lifting slightly as I took my place, revealing the thick nappy between my very pale legs. Quickly fixing my dress, I adjusted myself so I was comfortable on the squishy play mat underneath me. “So… spill it.” Nia said, sitting opposite me and looking at me intensely. “Spill what? I can’t spill anything, I’ve got a baba…” I joked, trying to move away from the real reason we were in this playhouse right now. “Oi, I’m the one who makes snarky jokes. Stay in your lane, little vampling.” Nia grinned at me. “No, seriously, what’s up hun?” “What do you mean? Everything is fine!” I replied, putting on the best fake smile I could for my friend. “I know I’m still relatively new to emotions and people and everything… but I’m pretty sure I can spot when my best friend is down in the dumps about something. So spill it!” “I’m fine, I promise!” I lied again. “We’re not leaving this playhouse until you tell me what’s going on in that silly little mind of yours…” “Nothing… I…” “Sweetie… don’t you just want to… tell me… everything…?” Nia said, crawling over slowly, her padded hips swaying back and forth as her tail swished about, before she got to me. Lifting her hand, she placed it under my chin and lifted, so my eyes couldn’t break contact with hers. “Come on…” I could feel something stirring within me, as if I wanted to… no, as if I needed to do whatever she said… That’s when it clicked. “OI! NO USING SUCCUBUS POWERS!” I yelled at her, maybe a little too loudly. She instantly threw off this sultry persona and sat back on her padded butt, pouting with her arms crossed in front of me. “Fine! But you have to tell me. It’s in the best friend's rules.” “I… fine. I… I’m just… I’m lonely.” “But we’re all here, having fun! All your friends!” She argued. “Not that way… I’m very thankful for you all… but seeing you…” “Oh.” Nia’s face dropped and she quickly hid her engagement ring with her other hand. “Seeing us all with our caregivers… with partners… Oh hun, I’m sorry…” “Yeah… got it in one.” I sighed. “Sweetie, it’s just a matter of time. You’ll find someone. And I bet they’re gonna be the bestest Mummy ever, making you happier than ever.” “I thought that with my ex…” “Yes, and that was a lesson that will allow you to sense people who are wrong for you from now on. Trust me, your time is soon. Just… keep a little bit of hope, please?” “I… can’t promise…” “Where are you looking these days? I thought you were putting yourself out there again? What about that human you were dating when I first met you?” “Didn’t work out, she ghosted me. And I tried a website for monstrum. That didn’t work out either. People were vampire chasers. Or… the other kind of chaser…” I said, rolling my eyes in disgust. “Oh? OH… eww…” Nia said as she finally understood just what I meant. “Fuck them. That doesn’t bother me. You’re just this really fuckin cool chick who is also my best fuckin friend.” “You do realise that…?” “That Vic would tan my hide if she heard me using this language? Why do you think we’re hiding out in the playhouse? And even if she didn’t… Beatrice would…” “That I would pay to see…” I grinned. “OI! Don’t you start! You don’t know what it’s like to be spanked by that witch!” “No, because I’m a good girl.” My grin grew twice as big. “So am I!” Nia whined. “...Most of the time.” I giggled at my friend, who just pouted back at me again. “Why… Why don’t you try dating humans again? Or maybe ask Beth if there are any other dating websites for us lot?” “I tried dating humans. It’s… not good.” “And humans have changed a lot in the billion years since you got turned into a vampire…” “I’m not that old! You’re way older than me, Miss ‘I’m actually an angel from the dawn of time’.” “Yeah but… for someone so old, I look hot.” She said, posing in a seductive way as a joke. “Agreed.” I said, sticking my tongue out at her and smiling. “Why don’t you try it? For me? Please? I hate to see you so lonely.” “Sorry…” “No! No more apologising! This isn’t your fault, silly girl. Just find a dating website, make a profile, put yourself out there. No, in fact… ten dating websites. We’re gonna find you a Mama, no matter what it takes! Why not try finding a vanilla person and introducing them to this?” I loved Nia’s optimism. It… was actually infectious. I could feel that drive to put myself out there again… and it scared me. But a small part of me was excited that maybe… just maybe… …I’d find someone. ======================================================= So... new story! New perspective! More evil cliffhangers await! I hope you enjoyed this, and continue to enjoy it as the story progresses. I put a lot of emotion into this story, as you can probably tell, and a lot more of myself into some of the characters. But don't worry, there will be a lot of fun too! -------------------------------------------- Thinking of finally opening up short story commissions now too finally, now that my writers block seems to have subsided. If you haven't seen, I'm now up and running on Subscribestar! (Sorry for the reminder again, trying to get my subscribers back after the Patreon rubbish!) ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Daniel is a young man kept in permanent babyhood. When a chance discovery reveals the truth of the world and his position in it he is determined to "grow up". The question is whether his adopted mother and sister are ready to let him... --- Writing is my passion and my only source of income. If you enjoy my stories you may be interested to learn that you can see every update I post one week before the rest of the world with a $5 pledge on Patreon. For $10 you can see everything early AND 50 full length stories that can only be found on my SubscribeStar and Ream pages! The money I get goes to paying bills and putting food on the table so I appreciate all of my patrons and would appreciate anyone who might be interested in supporting me to check out my Patreon ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- Training Daniel By Elfy Daniel rolled over and let out a little grunt as he stretched his legs. He could feel the diaper between his legs pushing his thighs apart, the padding was swollen from another night in his ever-present crib. Beneath him, underneath the soft cotton, a plastic sheet crackled as he moved. It was the usual noises of his nursery in the morning. “Wakey wakey, sleepyhead.” That was another familiar sound in Daniel’s nursery. It was his Mommy, Sarah. She was usually the one to wake him up in the morning which was fine with Daniel, it was preferable to his mean sister, Amber. They weren’t his real Mommy and sister, of course. Daniel’s real parents had been killed when he had been very young and it was Sarah, a friend of his biological mother who had taken him in. It had all happened when he was very little so he didn’t have any memories of his parents and his Mommy was never keen on discussing his family. Daniel slowly opened his eyes. The curtains had been opened and he was left blinking in the early morning sunlight as he adjusted to the world. The familiar white bars of his crib towered over him on all sides, above him a mobile which featured various farmyard animals wearing capes like superheroes. Beyond Daniel’s crib was his nursery. Something that hadn’t changed in his twenty years of life. It was primarily baby blue and white. His crib was on the opposite side of the room to the door, behind his head the long changing table stretched out underneath the window. On the opposite side of the room next to the door was his toys. A big chest filled with all the toys that he had accumulated, above that was the shelves filled with books for bed time. By the foot of the crib was the chest of drawers and closet filled with his clothes. “Did you have a good night?” Sarah asked as she stood on the release and lowered the side of the crib. Daniel nodded his head as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. He felt his mother leaning into the crib and instinctively spread his legs for the morning diaper check. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that he was wet. He wet in his sleep every night, it was no big deal. There was something different about today though. Normally Daniel’s diaper checks involved a quick poke and a prod but today his mom’s hand lingered. As he finished rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he looked down at his crotch. His mom’s large hand was massaging the front of the diaper, the wet padding rubbing against his skin. “Mommy?” Daniel asked in a little voice. “That’s right, baby.” Sarah smiled warmly as her hand continued to dance against the padding, “It’s your milking day.” Daniel felt his heart leap a little. He had never been taught things like the days of the week, he never really knew what the date was or even what month fell in what season, he had only really learnt a little about the time of day from watching clocks. No one had taught him things like that, things men didn’t need to know. So Daniel never really knew when his scheduled milking days were, he had to just wait until they happened. The rubbing continued until Daniel let out a little moan and then it stopped abruptly. He sighed, it was always the way. His Mommy and sister liked teasing him at the best of times but it went into overdrive when it was time for his milking. It was as frustrating as it was exciting. They had started around the time he was eighteen and continued seemingly at random ever since. It was one reason he was kind of glad he didn’t live with his actual family because it would make all this a lot weirder! A lot of that frustration was down to the “toy” that was kept almost permanently locked on to Daniel’s private parts. A rubber chastity device wrapped around his penis like a cocoon. It was flexible enough but it prevented him from getting too excited, it meant that whenever he was teased in that area he could only feel a small amount of the sensation. The clear rubber was designed to only encase his dick though, the balls underneath were left uncovered and it was that area that the two women always seemed to focus on when teasing him. By the time Sarah had finished rubbing the front of the wet diaper Daniel was feeling a lot of frustration. His poor little penis strained against its rubber prison without being able to break out. The side of the crib came rattling down and Daniel held his arms out to be picked up by his Mommy. Daniel was clutched tightly to Sarah’s chest as he was taken across to his changing table. It was a little awkward with Sarah’s large chest meaning Daniel couldn’t lay flat against his Mommy. He wrapped his legs around her middle and his arms around her neck. With a grunt of effort Sarah lifted Daniel and sat him on the edge of table. He scooted back and laid down for his inevitable diaper change. He looked out of the window as the tapes were pulled away from the shiny front landing panel. The diaper slackened in stages until the last tape came free and the padding slid down a little. Sarah then opened the diaper up to the cool air of the nursery. Daniel had gone through more diaper changes than he could count. Not that he could count particularly highly, he always started having trouble when it got to double digits and he ran out of fingers to use. Usually the next stage would be the baby wipes but today was milking day and that meant there was a slight change of plans. With a gasp Daniel felt his Mommy gently rubbing the skin of his ball sack. He was always kept completely shaved down there for hygiene reasons and his skin was baby smooth. He closed his eyes as felt his Mommy’s fingers, they were so delicate at times it was hard to feel that they were there at all but the electric excitement was always present. “Do you like that?” Sarah asked happily. Daniel nodded his head. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t deny how it made him feel. Perhaps it was because his milking days often seemed so distant to one another but every time someone touched him between his legs it felt incredible. It was no wonder men were kept in diapers, they had to keep this whole area locked away in case someone brushed past them by accident. For several minutes Daniel was left writhing on his changing table as he was fondled by his Mommy. He wondered if other men had such strict milking days like he did, maybe he was one of the lucky ones and some people didn’t get milkings at all. That would be a disaster, it was one of the things Daniel looked forwards to most. “We better get you all padded up before we have an accident on our hands.” Sarah said when she finally pulled her hand away from Daniel’s crotch. Daniel sighed. He almost felt like he could feel his balls throbbing after all the attention, he ached for more but he knew from past experience that he could only expect further teasing until the prison around his penis came off. A fresh diaper was pulled off the small shelf below the padded top. Daniel heard it crinkling as it opened and as his legs were lifted up like they weighed nothing he turned to look out the window. There were a lot of downsides to men being inherently weaker than women but they certainly made diaper changes easier. When Daniel’s hips were lowered it was on to the open padding. The familiar feeling of a thick diaper wrapped up between his legs and over his caged genitals. Sarah flattened out the plastic over Daniel’s tummy and then taped it closed. The routine continued as Daniel lifted his arms again, he was picked up and sat on the edge of the table. With one hand on his chest to stop him from falling Sarah turned to some clothes that she had prepared from the previous night that were hanging over the back of the rocking chair in the corner. “A special outfit for a special day.” Sarah said. Daniel didn’t recognise the clothing. It must’ve been new. Whilst a lot of clothing was store bought a lot of his clothing was also made by his Mommy at home, she’d grown quite good at it but this was clearly one of her creations. Firstly a t-shirt was pulled over Daniel’s head. It was plain white and not particularly notable but the shortalls that came with them were very much created at home. They had once been plain but Sarah had been doing some embroidery. Now the large chest piece, rather than being blank was stitched with the words “Baby’s Milking Day!” “Isn’t it wonderful?” Sarah said effusively as she slipped Daniel’s legs into the correct holes and put him in the infantile clothing. “Yes Mommy.” Daniel said with a smile, “Thank you.” Daniel saw his Mommy leaning down to him and he instinctively lifted his arms. He was picked up under the arms and sat on his Mommy’s hip. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he was carried downstairs, his legs dangled uselessly as the pair of them descended the steps. With everything in the house designed for the much taller females Daniel had always seen being carried around as a lucky privilege. Trying to climb up or down these stairs would be like trying to scale a mountain. The living room was already occupied when Daniel was carried in. Amber was sat on the couch. She was a couple of years older than Daniel but the differences between them made it seem much larger. She was seven feet tall and had inherited her mother’s large breasts. She was pretty but mean, especially towards Daniel, and seemed to take great pleasure in embarrassing him whenever she got the chance. She always seemed to go even harder on milking days. “You play in your pen alright?” Sarah said as she placed Daniel into the fenced area. She walked over and turned on the television. Bright cartoons starting dancing across the screen, “I’m going to get breakfast ready.” “Yes Mommy.” Daniel replied. As Daniel settled into place in the pen he reflected on life and the society that he really didn’t see a lot of. He was small, even for a male, at five-feet tall he was towered over by his Mommy and “sister.” Women were always taller than men but in this family it seemed to run to extremes, the women were taller than average and the men were shorter. Amber was seven-feet tall and Daniel’s Mommy was eight-feet. The difference in height was only made starker because Daniel was always on the floor. He was too weak to walk and he was kept that way on purpose. He very occasionally saw men walking on television but his Mommy assured him that was the exception rather than the norm. Most men were kept weak and were treated like babies. They also seemed to be kept at home a lot, Daniel had rarely been allowed to explore beyond the backyard. Whilst Amber went to school throughout her childhood Daniel was kept at home, beyond the absolute basics like speech Daniel was kept ignorant. Daniel didn’t like the way things were if he was honest. He always felt so jealous of Amber whenever she went out with friends or to work. His days consisted of sitting around in his diapers, playing and watching cartoons. A monotonous life that was occasionally broken up by special events such as… “Milking day, huh?” Amber said with a sneer, “Lucky boy.” Daniel blushed a little and looked down at the floor. He always felt embarrassed when people brought up his “milkings” even if he looked forward to them a lot. He especially didn’t like when Amber brought it up. Amber stood up and walked around to the playpen’s gate. She helped herself inside and Daniel tried his best to ignore her presence. She walked around until she stood in front of him and put her hands on her hips. Daniel looked at some of his toys on the floor and tried not to let his sister know how he was so intimidated. It didn’t work. Just as Daniel was starting to wonder what was going to happen he felt Amber’s foot against the front of his shortalls. The foot rested on the bulging front of his diaper and he immediately winced, it didn’t hurt because Amber wasn’t putting any pressure behind it but that didn’t stop the clear threat. “It’s a good thing we keep this locked up.” Amber stated as she prodded down with her foot a couple of times, “I bet it would be going off everywhere if we didn’t.” Daniel didn’t think that was fair but all he could do was scoot backwards on his padded rear to get away from the foot. He turned away from his sister with red cheeks and looked over to a simple jigsaw puzzle. He pulled it over, anything to get away from Amber’s mocking. He couldn’t go far, of course, the bars of the playpen made sure of that. “I think I’ll go out for a walk today.” Amber said airily. She made it sound like an idle thought but Daniel knew it was aimed at him, “Maybe meet some friends and go see a movie. Ooh, I hear Damage Limitation are in town, maybe I could score some tickets…” Daniel ducked his head. One of Amber’s favourite games was taunting him by talking about what she could do and what he could not. All he could do was pout and hope his sister got bored soon. When Amber suddenly stepped up to him and reached over his shoulder he was surprised, he nearly fell over as her hand went down to his diaper and squeezed the front. “Or maybe I should stay in after all.” Amber said with a small giggle, “It is your special day after all. Who knows when the next one will be?” Daniel tried to suppress a small moan as he felt Amber’s hand rub against him. The rubber toy encasing his sensitive parts did a good job of stopping most of the sensations getting through but he could still feel the pressure. His balls in particular enjoyed rubbing against the soft and smooth padding of the inner diaper. “Ugh…” A small moan escaped Daniel’s mouth. His little man was trying to stand at attention but the toy made it difficult. It wasn’t painful but it was uncomfortable. “Breakfast is ready.” Sarah called out from the kitchen. Amber withdrew her hand. She laughed as Daniel reached out his hands to be picked up, it would be a lot better than having to crawl all the way out to the dining table. He was disappointed as Amber shook her head and walked away. Daniel scowled after her. He had no option but to get on his hands and knees and scurry out towards the kitchen. Everything was so much bigger than Daniel already but when he crawled around like this it was more pronounced than ever before. He went down the long hallway to the kitchen where Amber was already sat at the table, she was leaning back in her chair and smirking as Daniel came in. He crawled around to his highchair and waited on the floor, there was no way he could climb up into it without help. “Upsy daisy.” Sarah said as she lifted Daniel up. --- If you've enjoyed this and want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW on the links below! https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/luzh7bq3yj/chapter/2b197e1d-bf4e-46d5-a3c2-1e93f4a6a0fa https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1268609

Introduction What would happen if, no matter how old you are, your parents found your stash? Well, on an already miserable day, that’s exactly what happened to Tom. How will both he and his dad handle it? Chapter 1 - Rejection ‘Well, thank you for coming in today, myself and the panel will discuss the interview and the recruiter will get back to you in due course’. Tom could see in the eyes of the interviewer it was going to be another rejection. He couldn’t understand it, just over a year ago he’d graduated with a 2:1 in Architecture. He thought he’d walk into a job, but he’d applied to every company he could find, and had 15 interviews never getting further than the second round. He couldn’t understand it, what was he doing wrong? Whatever it was it wasn’t how he presented himself. He looked gorgeous in his grey slim fit suit and smart tan shoes. He is 5’9, short jet black hair, with beautiful bright blue eyes, but I guess it’s what you say in interview which is important, not how you look. He stood up, grabbed his posh leather bag his dad had gotten him for his graduation, shook the panel’s hands and made his way out into the busy London street. No sooner had he stepped out the building a rough looking man bumped into him with a cigarette burning a hole right into the shoulder. ‘Hey!’ said Tom. ‘Fuck off, prick’ cursed the man as he hurried on. It was the final straw, a tear rolled down Tom’s face. He couldn’t take much more of life at this point. Everything was falling apart, or that’s how it felt. 23, no job, no friends who are local, his mum has passed away and he’s still living with his grieving dad Steve. After travelling back by train Tom let himself into the house and rushed straight upstairs to his room. ‘How’d the interview go?’ called his Dad from his study. ‘Crap’ shouted back Tom. Once in the room he started to undress. He hung up his suit jacket and inspected the burn. Maybe it could be repaired? Probably not, now he doesn’t even have a suit if he gets another interview. Nevertheless he took off the trousers and placed the suit in its special bag like always, before putting it in the wardrobe. He grabbed his joggers and a t-shirt and turned to lay on his bed, but as he did, he saw something which made his blood run cold. Could this day get any worse? His worst nightmare was lying in front of him. His heart thumped in his chest as if it was about to exit it. His face flushed red, sweat started to bead on his forehead, panic started to set in. Lying there in front of him was one of his adult nappies, and on it a note. “Hey son, let’s talk, love Dad”. Tom had bought these nappies a few months back from a medical supply company whilst his Dad had been away for work. He’d been interested in them for a while. He’d enjoyed the few he’d tried but he’d not had the courage to wear them once his dad got back. He’d hidden them under his bed in a carrier bag, but clearly his dad had found them. He couldn’t believe it, how could this happen? For an hour he sat there thinking of excuses he could make, plausible stories he could tell. “They’re not mine”. “I’ve been having bedwetting problems”, “I…” none of them seemed convincing. He didn’t feel like he could leave the room. After at least an hour and a half his dad called ‘dinner!’ Heart thumping and head racing he made his way down the stairs. He was physically shaking. When he saw his Dad at the table, he froze. ‘So you don’t think they’ll ask you back?’ asked his Dad. ‘No’ Tom tried to say, but nothing came out. ‘No’ he said eventually in his third attempt. ‘Sit down it’s getting cold’ said his Dad gesturing to Toms dinner. Tom made his way over and sat down in silence. For a short while they both ate, but Tom really wasn’t hungry, if anything he felt sick. He just shuffled his food around. When his dad had finished he reached out and put his had on Tom’s. ‘Talk to me Tom’ he said gently, trying to make eye contact. Tom was physically shaking, he couldn’t speak, he was living his worst nightmare. His Dad lent across to him. ‘I found your nappies mate’ he said. Just hearing that out loud drove through Tom like a train. ‘They’re not mine’ he blurted out. It was like a reflex, he heard himself say it, but he didn’t think he’d actually processed what he was going to say yet. His dad gave him a soft smile. ‘I know they’re yours son’. He said softly. ‘Tell me why’ he asked. Tom put his shaking hands over his eyes, tears now starting to well up. ‘Please talk to me son’. ‘I’m sorry Dad, I’m such a failure. I’ve got no friends, I don’t have any hobbies, I can’t get a job, I’m going nowhere. I’m a disappointment. If mum were alive she’d be heartbroken at what a useless adult I’ve become’. ‘Oh don’t be silly’ said his Dad. ‘You’re going through a tough time, I know, we both are, but you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re only 23’ Tom couldn’t look at his Dad, he still had his hands over his eyes. ‘I just wish things were like years ago, when mum was alive, when I was carefree and….happy’ sobbed Tom. ‘Is that why you bought the nappies?’ His dad asked gently. ‘I dunno, I dunno why I bought them’ said Tom regretfully. ‘Do they take you back, to a happy place? Are they a stress reliever for you or something?’ His dad enquired. ‘I guess so, I’m sorry, I’ll throw them away, please don’t think I’m a weirdo or a sicko dad, please’ said Tom. ‘I don’t, I understand, if they relax you and you want to wear them that’s fine. I wore them myself for a bit when I was your age’. Tom immediately pulled his face out of his hands. That was an unexpected sentence. ‘What?’ Said Tom in shock. ‘I wore nappies as a stress reliever, to regress for a few years, never did me any harm, better than drugs or booze’. Said his dad dismissively. Tom didn’t know what to say, he just stared at his dad in shock, and in a strange sense, relief. His dad got up and gestured to Tom to get up and give him a hug. Tom obliged, got up and put his arms around his Dad. ‘You’re still shaking’ he said. ‘This might be the perfect time for one of those nappies’. Chapter 2 - Relief When Tom went back into his room the nappy was still there laying on the bed. Half of him desperately wanted to put it on the other half wanted to throw it out the window. Eventually the half that wanted to wear it won out and he started to unfurl it. After he’d just had permission to hadn’t he? He slowly pulled down his joggers, pulled down his boxers and sat himself on the nappy. He laid back for a moment and stared at the ceiling. “What am I doing?” He repeated to himself, but his desire to carry on pushed through and he slowly and carefully applied the 4 tapes of his Tena Maxi adult nappy. He slowly closed his legs. The nappy popped and crinkled as it resisted. The feeling was amazing, he could feel the stress of this bizarre day drain away. After a while his dad called up. ‘You can come down you know, I want to watch Traitors’. Tom and his Dad had been watching it on catchup together each evening. Tom stood up, his nappy crinkling, not overly loudly, but noticeably in a quiet room. He pulled the joggers over it and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t noticeable from the front. He made his way down and quickly sat in the chair, so his dad couldn’t notice or tell. Tom was hugely into the Traitors on TV, but his mind was elsewhere tonight. As his dad commented on it, he just managed the occasional “yeah” instead of the usual debate. Eventually it finished and his dad switched off the TV. He looked across at Tom expectantly. ‘So did you put one on?’ He asked. Tom paused for a moment. ‘Yeah’ he said shyly. ‘Feel better now?’ asked his Dad. Tom breathed out slowly. ‘Yeah, I guess I do’. He said eventually. ‘Good’ said his dad. If that’s all it takes to relax you, just wear them son, I won’t judge. ‘Can I ask a practical question though?’ ‘What?’ asked Tom uncertain. ‘Do you, wet yourself?’ His dad asked plainly. ‘No!’ exclaimed Tom, as if it was a ridiculous question. He’d worn three on his own, and it had not remotely occurred to him to wet them. It was just the feeling of the bulk he liked. He wasn’t about to start wetting himself! ‘I mean, it’s not a crazy thing to ask Tom’ his Dad said. ‘You’re wearing a nappy and I ask if you wet yourself’. There was an awkward pause. ‘Well, if you do have an accident, I’ll put some bin bags in your room. Take it off, ball it up, put it in the bag, tie it up and put it outside your door, I’ll get rid of it. Don’t put it in the bins in the house, they can smell after a bit’. ‘Oh for god sake dad, I don’t wet myself!’ Repeated Tom as he got up to leave the room. ‘Hey’ called his dad grabbing his arm. ‘Don’t walk off on me, I’m being understanding and supportive. ‘It was a perfectly reasonable question and I wanted to make sure we have a plan for it’. ‘I know, sorry Dad, it’s just weird that’s all’ said Tom genuinely. ‘I guess I’m just embarrassed, y’know’. ‘Yeah I get that son, wearing a nappy is embarrassing, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of, people wear them for all sorts of reasons. As long as they’re helping you, it’s all good, I’m proud of you for talking to me about it at all and doing what makes you happy. I don’t think I could have handled it so well with my dad if he ever found mine’. Tom thought to ask his Dad if he ever wet his nappies, but it just felt too weird. Chapter 3 - The bathroom problem Tom stood in the bathroom cleaning his teeth, then habitually turned to the toilet to do a wee before getting into bed. As he went to grab it his hand slammed into his pad, not his boxers, opps. He reached inside and tried to pull it out the top, but he’s not that well endowed and it wouldn’t reach well enough even with the nappy pulled right down, he’d just pee all over himself. He tucked himself back down, squatted and reached into a leg guard. The guard was tight, but he managed to get the head out and point it to the toilet. He tried to go, but the pressure of the leg guard was stopping the flow. He squatted even more, and eventually wee squirted out, some in the loo, some up the wall and some in the bath. It was very awkward, and it had made a huge mess, but eventually he was done. He hurriedly started to clean up bathroom. Once in his room, he dropped his joggers, took off his t-shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Like before, half of him thought he looked good with the nappy on, the other half thought he looked like a freak. For a moment he planned to take it off, but ultimately decided against it, he didn’t have many, he didn’t have any money and he didn’t want to waste it. He pulled on his pjs over the top of it. It took a while before he fell asleep, the feel of the nappy seemed somewhat overwhelming. It was keeping him awake, but eventually he did drop of. … He looked over at the clock with one eye, 3:10am. He woke up for a wee at this time every night. For a split second he thought about going in his nappy, but it was just a second. He made his way to the bathroom, where exactly the same thing happened as earlier, except worse, because this time he was half asleep. Like before he hurriedly cleaned up, to what he thought was a good standard, and made his way back to bed. … The following morning, he woke as usual and made his way downstairs. ‘Jam on toast?’ asked his Dad? ‘Yes please’ said Tom still a little sleepy. As his Dad made breakfast, he turned to Tom. ‘Ok, here’s something I gotta say’. He said. ‘If you’re going to wear those nappies in my house, I’d much rather you wee in it and cleanly dispose of it, than wee all over the bathroom’ he said waving the butter knife. ‘Sorry, I thought I cleared up’ said Tom in a bit of a panic. ‘I just need some practice, sorry’. ‘Tom’s’ dad turned around. ‘If you want to wear, but still use the loo. I’ll get you some pull-ups, but if you’re in those it’s just not really practical, unless you remove it, which of course pretty much ruins it. Tom thought again about asking his dad if he’d wet his, but like before it just felt odd and creepy to ask his dad that. ‘I’ll try sitting next time’ said Tom. Chapter 4 - A Subscription! It may surprise you to know that after his shower that day Tom put on regular underpants. He’d had his fill, in fact for the next 2 days, no more nappy and it was only mentioned a couple of times by his dad, gently enquiring whether he was wearing one or not. That doesn’t mean Tom hadn’t thought about what had happened virtually every waking minute. It was just that after the initial rush it just felt too awkward to go about his normal daily routine at home, in front of his dad, with a nappy on. That initial confidence had been lost. Tom was at his computer at about 11am, his Dad was in his study downstairs working. He’s a self employed accountant, he works from home most days, only occasionally going into the city to meet a client. There was a knock at the door. “Sign here please mate” Tom heard the delivery driver say, before several thud sounds. Tom made his way down curiously. In the hall his Dad was positioning 3 large boxes. ‘What you ordered?’ asked Tom. His dad stepped back with a big proud grin. ‘Open one’ he said. Tom stepped forward and pulled the tape off of the box on top and flapped it open. ‘Nappies!?!’ He said in shock. ‘Why have you ordered nappies?’ Tom said with a look of confusion on his face. ‘Because you told me you like to wear them, so I’ve ordered you them for you.’ Tom looked at the huge pile. 21 per pack, 3 in a box, 3 boxes. 189 nappies! ‘Well how many are you expecting me to get through?’ He asked incredulously. ‘I don’t know, but you save on delivery if you spend over £80 and get 10% off if you sign up for a subscription, so I got 3 cases’. ‘A subscription!’ Tom said almost shouting. ‘It’s ok, I can cancel it, there’s no commitment’ said his dad waving it off. ‘Look they’re there if you want one. You feel stressed, or just want one they are there. Take a pack up to your room, I’ll store the rest in the spare room’. Tom walked up to his room carrying his bag of nappies. He couldn’t decide what he thought about it. It had been great that his dad hadn’t freaked out, it had been a huge relief his dad was so supportive, but buying him 3 cases without asking? As Tom looked at the nappies in the pack on his bed next to him, he had an odd feeling. He wanted to put one on of course, but he also now felt this uncomfortable expectation from his that he would, and that if he didn’t his dad be oddly disappointed that he’d wasted his money. He put the pack to one side and made his way downstairs. He tapped on his dad’s study door. ‘I’ve got to ask dad, why have you ordered me three cases of nappies without asking me if I want them?’ His dad turned around on his office chair and took off his reading glasses. ‘Because son, if I’d have asked if you wanted me to order them you’d have said no, and I know you want them deep down. You can’t afford them, and you’d not order when I’m here even if you could, so I just ordered them for you. Save you the anxiety. You’re under no obligation, they’re there if you want them’. Chapter 5 - No obligation Tom’s days were not as full as they could be. He’d get up, have breakfast and then go on the job hunting sites. If there was anything to apply for, he’d apply for it. Generally though he was done by lunchtime and scratching around for something to do. Today was one of those days, he’d applied for one job, he didn’t really like the sound of it, but it was that or apply for nothing. He went over to the pack of nappies that had just arrived and pealed them open. They were the same make as the ones he’d bought, but these were the highest absorbency ‘Ultima’ version. He pulled one out, and held it. Just holding it in his hand gave him a buzz. He un furled it and felt the contrast been the smooth plastic outer shell and soft padded inside. It gave him a magical, warm and excited feeling inside. He slowly pulled down his jeans, then his boxers and laid himself on the bed. Slowly and carefully he pulled the nappy up snuggly between his legs and securely taped it on. Instantly the day went from empty and dull to a whirlwind of emotion. He no longer felt bored, he felt excited. The nappy, that his own dad had bought him no less, sat comfortably and reassuringly between his legs. He reached down and felt it. The bulk was considerable, his man parts locked away beneath the thick padding. He laid on his bed in just his t-shirt and nappy, just enjoying the moment for a while, before lifting himself up from his dreamlike state to stand. The nappy pushed between his legs. As his walked over to his mirror he could feel its presence with every step. He looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw, he thought it looked both cute and smart all at the same time. … “Knock-knock” ‘Hi son I’m done, fancy a walk?’ Called his dad through the door. Tom dived to the floor to grab his jeans and then tried to pull them on in a panic. As he did, his door started to open. Before long he was standing there in front of his dad, trousers half up in a t-shirt and nappy. ‘Ah, you tried one’ said his dad. ‘Like em?’ ‘Err yeah’ said Tom. ‘A bit thicker’ ‘Yeah, I thought well, if you do wet yourself, these will last you a bit longer’. Replied his dad. Tom didn’t know how to reply to that. His instinct was to say ‘I don’t wet myself’ like before, but in truth he was thinking about giving it a go, given how difficult it was to use the loo. ‘I can’t go for a walk in this’ said Tom, pointing to his nappy. ‘Why?’ asked his dad. ‘Err, why do you think?’ Replied Tom. ‘No, genuinely Tom I don’t know why’ his dad replied. ‘Tell me’ ‘People will notice!!’ said Tom. ‘Who’s going to notice?’ said his dad incredulously. ‘You can’t tell it’s there under clothes’ he said confused. ‘It’s a private thing, no one knows what underwear you’ve got on, get over yourself’. Tom finished buttoning up his jeans. They were actually a little tight with his Tena Ultima nappy underneath. ‘I’m going to take it off’ he said as he started unbuttoning again. ‘Right’ said his dad authoritatively. ‘I’m supportive, but to a point. I won’t have piss all over the bathroom and I’m not having you waste nappies by putting them on, then just taking them off again moments later. They’re expensive. Do up your bloody trousers and stop being silly’ Tom didn’t really know what to say. He stopped unbuttoning. ‘Does it really not show?’ ‘No son, it doesn’t’. Now come on it’s a nice day, let’s get some fresh air. … As Tom walked along the bulk of the nappy was present with every step. Both he and his dad were fast walkers, but in his nappy and tight jeans he was struggling to keep up a little. It was a beautiful day. They went to the park, had an ice cream and on the way back walked past the local pub. ‘Fancy a cheeky pint?’ Asked his dad. They often went into the pup together. ‘Yeah, why not’ said Tom. They both had a couple of pints before it was time to leave. They didn’t talk about Toms nappy at all, mostly about the Traitors on TV. ‘Ok, I’m going to pop to the loo and then we’ll head off’ said his Dad. ‘Ah yeah, me too’ said Tom. His dad stopped and looked at him. ‘You do make me laugh, why are you doing it to yourself? You can’t wee all over the floor in a public bathroom, it’s rude and disrespectful’. Tom looked at him, kinda accepting that he had a point. Whilst it felt so crazy to wet himself, as his dad became more accepting and as Tom was waddling around in the nappy anyway, it felt increasingly silly to not use it for what it was designed for. ‘The thing is son’ said his dad. ‘They deteriorate after 4-6 hours anyway, so you gotta change it whether you use it or not, you may as well use it. Tom stood and waited whilst his dad went to the loo. He was breaking his neck, but he couldn’t go. Something in his brain was telling him no. He couldn’t just wet himself right there in the middle of the pub! As they walked back, Tom was getting increasingly desperate and his dad noticed. Tom was walking quicker and quicker and couldn’t stop grabbing his crotch. His bladder felt like it was going to burst. ‘Stop walking a minute’ said his dad, stopping himself. Tom stopped, the urge unbearable. ‘If you don’t let it go you’ll hurt your kidneys. That’s what I did, it was agony for days. That’s why I’m trying to help you. Just go, you don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me’ With that Tom’s bladder burst, right there in the street. Wee poured uncontrollably into his nappy. He stared desperately at his jeans in the full expectation that wee would be pouring down them, but it was not. What he could feel though was his nappy expanding and getting larger and tighter in his jeans. After what felt like forever, he stopped. ‘Come on then’ said his said. As Tom walked on the nappy felt completely different to before. It was much much bulkier, oddly to him though it didn’t feel at all wet. It had clearly absorbed all the wee and left him dry, which was pretty amazing actually, who’d have thought they’d work so well? It felt so strange yet at the same time so comforting to have had an accident and been protected by his nappy. It also made him feel small, having just stood there in front of his dad and wet himself. As they walked along his dad turned to him and chuckled. ‘So I guess that answers my question. You do wet yourself.’ Chapter 6 - Something awkward Over the next few days Tom had worn a nappy on and off, even when wearing all but a couple of very carefully managed wees has been in the toilet, with great difficulty. He was really conflicted about whether to wear one or not. Even though his dad was fine with it, almost encouraging it, he was still embarrassed to talk about it, and felt a little silly with it on. Things had been reasonably normal. His dad had enquired occasionally as to the state of his nappy, but it wasn’t often. Just things like. “If you’re wet son, don’t forget to change regularly”. His dad had also bought him some powders and creams and impressed upon him the importance of good skin care and hygiene. “Wearing nappies isn’t dirty or gross son, but you do need to up your game on hygiene and skin care” he’d said. … As they sat and watched tv that evening, Tom decided he’d do a wee in his nappy. He stood and after a few odd movements he started to wet himself. ‘Good lad, I notice you’re getting better at that’ said his dad. Tom stood a while longer until he’d finished, then sat back down in his now wet nappy and finally said something that was increasingly bothering him. ‘Dad’ he said. ‘Can I ask you something really awkward?’ His dad switched off the tv and looked at him with suspicion. ‘Okaaay’ he said slowly, Tom took a deep breath. ‘Do you like me in nappies?’ He eventually asked. ‘What do you mean?’ asked his dad. ‘Well, like just then, and other times, you seem to be encouraging it. Like you want me to be in nappies and wet myself and stuff’ asked Tom. His dad moved his gaze away for a moment thinking about what he was going to say. Eventually he returned to Tom. ‘It’s not about me, it’s about you son. I just want you to have what I never had, an understanding parent during this part of your life. It’s obviously in our genes to like this. I’ve passed it on to you. I want it to be as easy and enjoyable as possible for you to go through. Not like my experience. I’d have loved my dad to have accepted my nappy wearing, but I never got it, and I never got to find out what he would have done or said.’ ‘I see’ said Tom. ‘Granddad never knew?’ What would you have wanted granddad to do or say?’ Asked Tom. ‘I’d have liked him to say it’s fine, I’d have liked acceptance, I’d have liked….to have…well it doesn’t matter’. ‘No do say’ said Tom. ‘Heck, we’re beyond holding back aren’t we?’ Tom’s Dad paused for a considerable time. ‘I’d have liked him to change me. BUT that doesn’t mean I’m asking to change you!’ He blurted out Tom sat there, looking at his Dad. ‘Do you want to change me then?’ He asked gingerly. ‘No, No!’ said his dad definitely. ‘That’s not what I meant, I wish I’d not said that’ ‘You don’t want to, or you feel like you don’t want to ask?’ ask Tom. His dad looked increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I can’t do this’ he said starting to stand. Tom grabbed his arm like he had his a couple of days before’. His dad sat back down. ‘What do you want from this?’ Asked Tom. ‘Why are you so supportive? Why are you buying them for me?’ Asked Tom ‘Son please’ said his dad desperately trying to end the conversation. ‘No, come on dad, we gotta have this discussion’ insisted Tom. His dad started to claw at the said of the chair. ‘Because I remember how much I wanted to go back into nappies, and if I’m honest a part of me still does want to occasionally. I remember bottling it up for years, the anxiety of trying it, hiding it, feeling wrong and weird. When I discovered you’d inherited this from me I decided I didn’t want you to go through what I did. I wanted you to be yourself, be happy, fulfil your desires, be content in yourself’. Tom didn’t know what to say. His dad went on. ‘And if I’m completely honest, I want to share in your joy of it, in a way I never got to. Sorry I know that’s selfish, I don’t want to put you under any pressure, this mustn’t be about me’. ‘I really do appreciate that dad, thanks so much’ said Tom as he came over for a hug. ‘Have I got it right?’ His dad asked ‘What do you mean?’ Asked Tom ‘Do they make you feel how I think they do?’ ‘They do make me feel happy and relaxed’ said Tom. ‘A kind of contentment I’ve not felt in a long time’. ‘Then tell me son, tell me why you shouldn’t wear them as much as you want?’ After a long pause ‘When I say I’m not asking to change you, please don’t think it’s because I wouldn’t. If you asked I’d be right there for you, but I’d never put you under any pressure to, you know that don’t you?’ ‘Yeah I know that dad’ said Tom. ‘I’m not sure that’s something I could handle, at least not now’.

What is a good daily routine for an AB?

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

I hope there is more

Congratulations on the weight loss buddy. I'm very proud of you. Yeah I see what you're saying, it can be hard to adjust to new diaper sizes especially when you're in between sizes like that. But whatever the case I hope the new sizing feels the perfect combination of snug and comfy for you and I hope the tapes hold up well. I'm actually more curious if the new sizing will impact the capacity of the diaper but like you said we'll just have to wait and see. Again, congratulations buddy. I know how hard it can be to lose weight. I've lost so much weight over the past couple of months and I'm very proud of myself.

I leave that question in the hands of my Daddy as that's step one for a good daily routine, trust your partner/caregiver.

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)

A wet and poopy Little Kings diaper this morning. Little Kings diapers are so aesthetically pleasing it's almost a shame to make such a mess in them, operant word is almost.

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

You are an amazing author I hope you keep this story up it's the most entertaining read I've read for a while the dominant Mommy little boy is not really my preference, it is very well written and it actually is taking shape to be an actual story like novels so I mean you might be able to do this for a living if you want to give up math and engineering; sorry I'm sick at math. I do well with applied stuff like electrical but that level of math theory has well passed,taken the few brain cells I have left

We're halfway to goal with only a week to go. Please donate if you can!

Thanks for the new story, Its off to a good start. I feel sorry for Jason. Thanks Maly.

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

I never did understand tucking your shirt into your diaper.

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

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

Or you're living in an ABDL story where the caregivers always seem to have Herculean strength! And yes, I include most of my stories in that

Bro ,no adults changed like that . It maybe nostalgic but it’s not practical or efficient to do that with adults .trust me my Aide changes me like 9X’s a day , those days are just cobwebs in the brain bucket . Infants and toddlers are easily changed that way adults not so much unless Lou Ferrigno or Arnold Shwartnegger happens to be your daddy .

Good luck with your surgery, and feeling better soon!

Music blasted out of Danny’s phone as he danced around his room. He felt refreshed and revitalized and for the first time in the last couple of weeks, he felt hopeful for his future. He carelessly bounced about, carefully folding his clothes as he put them away, stowing his belongings in their place as he made the room his once again. He knew Crystal wouldn’t tolerate things half haphazardly scattered around the room or shoved in the closet, but he honestly didn’t even need that extra bit of motivation for once. He wanted to be doing exactly this. Stuffed animals were rearranged as he repositioned them around the room, ensuring his favorites were stacked in his crib as he sorted through various toys and found them new homes. Sure nearly nothing had changed since last he’d been in here, but he still wanted it to feel fresh and new. He wanted it to feel like home. The music spread throughout the house as Danny skipped and hopped about, organizing his items throughout the house as he unpacked his toiletries in the guest bath, picking up various loose items of Crystal’s along the way. In what little time he had before Crystal’s car could be heard pulling into the driveway over his blasting music, he’d managed to make it feel more like home then his previous apartment. He knew this is where he was supposed to be. He quickly paused his music, running towards the front door just as Crystal opened it, greeting her as she entered with a few bags in tow. “Can you go grab the last couple items from the car, sweetie?” Danny felt invisible. Free from any peering eyes as he practically skipped out to the car, grabbing the few remaining bags of groceries before shutting the door and running back inside as Crystal watched with a smile. “Hi, buddy…” Crystal said with a sweet tone, watching him happily frolick into the kitchen with the bags. “Somebody’s had a big mood change,” Danny nodded with a massive grin, crossing his hands as he stood up on his tippy toes in his best attempt to look cute. Crystal stopped what she was doing for a moment to smile lovingly at him, blowing him a gentle kiss as he twirled back and forth. “Why don’t you go get naked for Mommy?” She said, “I’ll be right in after I put some of this stuff away,” Danny didn’t question it as he quickly hurried back down the hall and into his nursery, eagerly pulling his clothes off as he tossed them in the empty hamper before rolling around in his soft crib as he waited. “Where's my little cutie?” She called out, carrying a handful of items in with her including baby wipes and lotions, setting them down on one of the bookshelves. “There he is!” She said, quickly tickling his exposed waist as he squirmed about. “Are you ready to become Mommy’s cute little baby boy?” Crystal cooed. Danny nodded excitedly, running over to the changing table as he jumped up. She grabbed a diaper off the shelf with the bottle of powder as she set them down next to Danny and his growing member. “Ah, is little baby excited?” She cooed, lightly pushing him on his back as she slid the diaper under him, following with a brief sprinkle of powder. His cock twitched about with excitement as it was covered with the white powder, though he knew it was bound to be left unsatisfied for the time being as Crystal pulled the diaper up over it, tightly taping it shut. “Only good little boys get to make cummies, remember?” Crystal teased, helping him off the table. “Arms up,” Crystal she said as Danny blushed, remembering his many nights with Crystal as she pulled out a light blue onesie from the closet that was covered in little clouds with an occasional plane. Danny eagerly complied as she pulled the onesie over his head, buttoning the snaps between his crotch before pulling a pacifier out of thin air as she clipped it to his collar with a string of wooden beads that quietly clanked about. “Perfect!” She said, plopping the pacifier in his mouth before taking a step back to look at him. Danny let out a smile from behind its shield as he instinctively started to soothe himself with its fat bulb. “Such a cutie,” She laughed, scuffing up his hair slightly. “Is my little baby hungry?” Danny quickly nodded, following Crystal out into the kitchen where she guided him to his old high chair, pulling the tray off so that he could climb up before replacing the tray after he got seated. “Uh! You are just too cute!” She cooed, pulling out her phone to snap a picture as he happily bounced his legs about, smiling from behind his pacifier. Crystal pulled up a stool next to him, setting a few jars of baby food out as she reached over to pull his pacifier out. “Mommy forgets, are you a messy little eater?” Danny nodded, the smile on his face growing as he let himself sink more and more into the roll. Crystal was quick to produce a bib, fastening it around his neck before cracking open one of the jars. “Here comes the plane!” She cooed, driving the spoon of baby food into his mouth as he happily gulped it down. Jar by jar, she scooped up its contents and drove the spoon into Danny’s mouth as he bounced about making a complete mess of his face as Crystal reminisced about their past times and how excited she was that he was back in her home. A warm washcloth took the mess right off his face as Crystal helped him out of his high chair, sure to place the pacifier back in his mouth. “Why don’t you go gather some toys and bring them out here to the living room so Mommy can watch you?” Crystal suggested, rounding up the now empty jars as she took them to the sink. Danny happily obliged, running off to his room to grab a few of his favorites, as well as some toys to keep himself occupied before carrying them all back out to the living room as instructed. Crystal made her way to the kitchen, pouring out a large glass of wine and filling a bottle with milk before returning to the living room, setting her wine on a side table before handing Danny his bottle. She kicked back into her recliner, kicking up the foot rest as she pulled out her laptop, ready to resume her usual nightly endeavors as Danny happily hung out with her. The movie had long since ended as Danny still laid spread out on his stomach, a large box of assorted lego pieces combined with the now cartoon shows streaming on the TV kept his mind occupied as his bodily functions progressed onwards. He froze for a moment as he gave a big push, the all too familiar feeling of his own bowels pushing against the back of his diaper as they spread across his rear. He bit down on his pacifier as he let out a soft moan, cherishing the ability to relive this experience again before realizing his moan had been audible. “Oh, you messy, messy boy,” She cooed. “I bet you’ve been waiting to do that again, haven't you?” Danny let out with a large grin but stayed otherwise silent as he continued building with his legos. He felt overly ecstatic about once again living with Crystal. “Well you keep enjoying yourself, stinky butt. Mommy’s a little preoccupied,” Danny didn’t care, he let his bladder release, lifting himself slightly to avoid any leakage out the front as he reached for his mostly empty bottle of milk. Another hour passed before Crystal finally closed the lid to her laptop, taking the last sip of her wine as he got up from her recliner. “Alright, stinker. Let’s get you ready for bed,” She said, holding out a hand which Danny quickly took to pull himself off the floor. Crystal leaned over, tightly wrapping her arms around Danny as she hoisted him into the air, placing his weight on her hip as she felt the squish of his diaper as she carried him back to his nursery and onto the changing station. “Somebody sure remembers what comes next,” She said, watching his cock twitch with excitement as she pulled the front of his messy diaper back. She reached for the drawer, pulling out the flesh light she used routinely for night time changes when her little boy had behaved all day. “You’ve been such a good boy today,” She cooed, lightly lubing the flesh light as she pushed it against his cock, delicately sliding his desperate cock inside. “I bet you’re going to cum so quick!” She hadn’t even stroked his cock once and he felt near the edge. It had been more than a month since Kelsey and him had done anything and he was beyond excited to be back with Crystal. “Maybe if you last more than a few strokes, Mommy will let you have some ice cream. Does that sound good?” She cooed, slowly lifting the flesh light before quickly pressing it back down. Danny practically burst already as he tried to hold himself back. “That's it, baby,” She said, repeating the motion as she watched him fight back the urge, biting down hard on his pacifier. “Just a few more, sweety,” She said, repeating the motion a third time as she watched him rapidly lose control, quickening her pace so as to not ruin the moment. Cum filled the interior silicon lining as Danny squirmed about in his own mess. Crystal smiled down at him, keeping her pace to draw out every ounce of pleasure she could muster out of him as hot breaths of air condensed on his pacifier's shield as he let out a long sigh. “Welcome home,” 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!

Such a heat breaking chapter. I feel so bad for Hortensia and Jennifer. You can tell Jennifer truly cares for and loves Hortensia. I just wish she would open up and start to heal. I honestly don’t think she was responsible for the break-in and there’s a good explanation for her having the pickle jar. I hope to see the next chapter soon.

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.

Happy birthday! Thank you for all that you do!

Gotta warn you, messing with your endocrine system without medical guidance (or even with) is a very dangerous thing to do. Estrogen regulates a lot more than just sexual characteristics, it is used throughout the body in numerous ways Please be careful not to inflict harm on yourself. I would strongly advise against this. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Estrogen

Here is the next chapter. If there is ever something you don't understand let me know. I am not always sharing all the information because I want some of it to come out later in other chapters. But as always, I love reading the comments and hearing the feedback. Chapter 13 - Coffee Time Christy and Avery sat for almost two hours together, going over Avery's calculations that he had written down on the sheet of paper in front of them. Christy could follow most of it, but Avery’s math and science skills were far superior to hers. She was okay with this because she was one of the programmers of this project. Programming was her special ability. Although some of the equations went beyond her abilities, she still found them fascinating, as they seemed to come so naturally to Avery. His intelligence and proficiency in mathematics and science were awe-inspiring. At times, they would exchange glances as they discussed the equations and sequence of events necessary to progress the project. Christy found herself marveling at his mathematical acuity and at his interest in their shared project. Though the equations intimidated her, she reveled in the supportive environment that Avery had created. He gently explained each equation to her, always careful to ensure that she understood each step and never talking down to her like some of her other team members. It seemed like he would make a great teacher. Avery led Christy through each step of the calculations, but there was still one issue left unresolved – how to determine which of the two answers for two of the equations was correct. Avery had examined the equations multiple times and had determined that they were quadratic in nature, meaning that there could be more than one answer. Avery sighed as he looked at Christy, shaking his head. “We need to figure out which answer is right, but I have no idea how.” Christy furrowed her brow in thought and then said, “There must be a way. Maybe we can try testing different values until we find a consistent result? We could use the same equation with different inputs each time and see if it produces a consistent answer or not.” Avery nodded slowly as he considered her suggestion before smiling. “I have thought of that. But a program isn't going to be able to tell which is the right answer without some boundaries or guidance. I just need to play around with this for a while to figure out the best way to do this." By the end of the session, Christy was confident that Avery was on the right path and understood the basics of equations and their implications. Christy looked at the time on her watch. “I have no idea how to solve something like that, but I am sure you can figure it out.” Avery smiled at Christy. She was the first person to really sit down and take the time to listen to him, and that made him proud of what he was doing. He felt hope that he might still be respected. Christy stood up. “I need to get going. I have a meeting in a few minutes and need to prepare for it.” Avery stood up, trying not to let his face show his embarrassment as he remembered what he was wearing. He could feel the diaper crinkling and rubbing against his butt through his shirt, and he tried not to let Christy hear it. He tugged at the back of his shirt, hoping she wouldn't notice. Christy noticed something was wrong as Avery's facial expression changed, but she didn't say anything. She smiled at him and said, "I'm sure you'll figure out a way to solve this problem." She patted him on the shoulder, trying to make him feel better the same way one would do to a child if they scraped their knees. “I will come by and see you tomorrow if you’re up for it, okay? Maybe we can even have lunch together and talk about this more. What time should I come by?” Avery nodded, still a little embarrassed and also taken by the kind gesture of her hand on his shoulders. If she knew, she didn’t act like she cared. “I would like that. In the morning again.” Avery sat back down, feeling relieved that Christy didn't seem to know what was going on. He knew that if he wanted to pursue her in any meaningful way, then he would have to tell her about his medical condition eventually. For now, though, all he wanted to do was focus on getting these calculations correct so that their project could move forward. Avery tried to focus on the calculations. He couldn't help but feel conflicted about what just happened with him and Christy. On one hand, she had been so kind to him - which made no sense as it seemed too much for her to do out of obligation or pity. Yet, on the other hand, it felt like she actually cared for him in some way, making it impossible for Avery to accept that someone could really like him. He wanted to believe her kindness was genuine, but he simply couldn't bring himself to trust it. Still, he savored the moment they spent together these last two hours. Avery realized something as he started to look back over his calculations. He had gone almost the entire morning without coffee. He had his special Lego coffee cup back, so what better time to put it to work. Avery got up and made his way slowly over to the lunch room to try to avoid everyone. When he got there, he noticed there was no community coffee pot but did notice four Keurig coffee makers lined up. “That will work, but where are the K-cups?” Avery thought to himself. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby. He then opened the top counters to see if there were any, but there were none. He then bent down as he forgot for the first time that his diaper could be exposed and looked down at the bottom cabinets. There were cups, straws, and plastic silverware, but no K-cups. Darlene stepped around the corner and saw him bent over; she was just about to ask what he was looking for when she noticed his diaper. This confirmed part of the mystery that the diapers were for him but not why he wore them. She coughed and spoke up, "What are you looking for?" Avery snapped up like a frightened rabbit and pulled his shirt down, desperately hoping that she hadn't seen him as his face went bright red. "Ah, nothing," he stammered as he backed away with his coffee cup in hand. Darlene was frustrated at his evasive attitude. "Oh, come on, I'm not an idiot!" she said sharply. But Avery kept walking without even acknowledging her presence. "Stop! Stop this right now," Darlene barked in a voice so authoritative that it almost echoed through the entire office. Avery froze in place, and a small stream of urine trickled from between his legs and into his diaper. He slowly turned around and locked eyes with Darlene, who demanded once more, "Now tell me what you're looking for." His voice quavered as he replied, "I... I just wanted some coffee. I am sorry." His gaze remained fixed on the ground as he awaited her response. "Well then," Darlene said softly yet firmly. "Was that so bad?" “We are a little different here than the other departments. I put some money in a company debit card for each of my employees every month to buy K-cups or whatever they desire to drink instead of one coffee pot. I find that people’s tastes vary too much, and life is too short to argue over how everyone likes their coffee.” Darlene paused as she noticed he looked like a defeated little kid who wanted to get out of the lunch room as fast as possible. “Unfortunately, I can't give you a debit card without your direct supervision, but I can provide you with some of my K-cups,” Darlene said with her half-hearted smile slowly fading. “That's alright…I'll just get my own K-cups tomorrow,” Avery muttered as he started to turn away. “Stop," she commanded harshly. "Turn back around and face me." Again, Darlene was treating him like a wayward child, and it infuriated her that he had this aura of self-pity around him. Avery slowly rotated his body towards her, not daring to meet her gaze. “Look, when someone is trying to be kind enough to offer you something, you don't shoot them down. You say thank you. Thank you, Ms. Malatetsa.” Avery felt his heart racing as he was chastised by Ms. Malatetsa. He was sure everyone in the office was watching and judging, but he couldn't look up at her. His diaper felt warm and wet around his crotch, and he wished he could melt into the ground and disappear. He felt like a child caught by their mother with their hand in the cookie jar. "Is that so hard?" She said as she gestured for him to follow her into her office. "Come on now, let's get you some K-cups. You don't need to buy your own". Avery reluctantly followed her, feeling every eye turn towards him with judgmental disdain. Once inside the room, Darlene walked him over to a cabinet stocked with boxes of K-cups in an array of flavors from light to dark roast. Avery looked up in awe at the shelves of sugar packets and countless options of coffee. It seemed like too much for him to take in. She continued speaking, "Down there is my small office refrigerator filled with creamers: hazelnut, caramel, french vanilla. What do you say?". Avery finally looked up at her nervously and stammered out a quiet thank you before averting his gaze again. Darlene laughed softly and said, "You are very welcome. I'm sorry if I scared you back there, but you're free to come and use my K-cups whenever you need them; I'd be insulted if you went out and bought your own while you are here." Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she finished talking, trying to put him at ease. “Now, I have to go out for a business lunch today, so help yourself.” She smiled as she walked past him and out of the office. He glanced back, but she had already gone. Avery heaved a sigh of relief—she did scare him, after all. He investigated the cabinet until he settled on a medium roast K-cup. Going to the fridge, he scanned his surroundings for other people before bending over and checking out the available creams. All of them were flavored; he didn't care for sweetened coffee creamers or sugar but wanted some cream or milk. To his surprise, there were small bottles with MM's Milk printed on them and a date. Must be local milk, he thought to himself. Taking one out, he opened the top and poured in a bit of it into his cup. After putting it back and shutting the refrigerator door, Avery noticed that she had her own Keurig. Since she was nowhere to be found, he brewed his coffee there instead. The aroma wafting from the cup was comforting as he took a sip; it was sweeter than expected due to just using milk, but still good nonetheless. Avery walked to his desk with his cup of coffee in one hand and shuffled around the papers on top until he found a pen. He was about to start working when he felt the squish of his diaper between his legs remind him about what had happened earlier. His face flushed as he remembered how embarrassed he had been, and even more so now that he knew Darlene possibly had noticed too. He sighed; the day had gone from good to bad in just minutes. Avery looked down and felt the soaked diaper through his pants and groaned. He desperately wanted to change out of it, but he had only brought one spare diaper with him. Plus, he wasn't sure how to get out of the bathroom without being noticed. Feeling trapped, Avery had no choice but to wait until the place was empty during lunchtime. But time seemed to drag on endlessly as he tried to concentrate on reviewing his calculations, and he could still feel the wetness against his skin. Finally, Avery thought that most people were out for lunch or eating, giving him a slight glimmer of hope. He stood up, grabbed his lunch sack in an attempt to hide his diaper, and started walking down the rows of desks toward the restroom hallway located at the back of the room. Just as he reached it, however, Avery saw someone coming out of the ladies' room and heading straight for him. He did his best to avoid eye contact while secretly praying that she hadn't noticed the bulge from his diaper hidden beneath his lunch sack. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Avery made it into the men's restroom and let out a sigh of relief. When Avery entered the restroom, he was grateful that it was empty. He desperately wanted to change his diaper and prayed no one would come in while he did. His diaper wasn't super wet, so he could have gotten away with a pull-up, but the familiar softness of a disposable provided him comfort at this moment, knowing there was more room if something really bad happened like last time. Once in the stall, Avery triple-checked to make sure the stall door was locked. He lowered the toilet seat. He undid the four tapes to his diaper and quickly got out of it, feeling relieved when it didn’t leak before he had a chance to take it off. As he was about to place the used diaper into a small trash can, someone barged in, and Avery panicked. He quickly sat down on the toilet seat, pretending nothing was going on and he was just doing his business. He waited in silence with his pants down but sat in a wet diaper inside the stall. Looking up again, making sure it was locked, and it was. Once they left, Avery made a mental note not to throw his dirty diaper in the small trash can where people could easily find it. If word got out that there were used diapers in the trash, and he was the only new addition to the floor, it wouldn’t take long for people to put everything together. To avoid any further controversy in the office, he had to get rid of it somewhere else where nobody would notice. He stood up and set the diaper down on the toilet lid. He then sat down on the diaper, wrapped the diaper around his waist, and fastened it securely with two tapes on either side before swiftly making his way to a larger trash can. Against Avery’s better wishes, he decided to put the used diaper in his lunch sack till he could find a place to throw it away. He would shove the diaper in his drawer back at his office if he didn’t pass by anything on the way. Now, all that was left to do was return to his desk without anyone noticing anything suspicious about himself or his behavior until lunchtime ended. With that in mind, Avery slowly opened the door and returned to his desk without making any contact with anyone else in the office. He silently sat down and picked up where he had left off on his calculations before having been interrupted earlier. Before long, lunchtime was over, and everyone returned to their respective cubicles. Darlene came back from lunch in a good mood, talking to people as she passed by their cubicles. She stopped by Avery's cubicle. "Did you enjoy the coffee?" Avery was so deep in his equations that he jumped at the sound of her voice, bringing back memories of what had occurred before lunch. He quickly stammered out a response, "Yes, it was good. Th-thank you." Darlene pushed further, challenging him with her words. "What is the proper way to say thank you?" Avery gritted his teeth in frustration before spitting out, "Thanks, Ms. Malatetsa." Avery wondered if Darlene went out of her way to make everyone feel small or if that was reserved for him. Satisfied, Darlene smiled knowingly. "Keep practicing - it gets easier. Would you like a refill on your coffee?" "No, thank you, Ms. Malatetsa," he replied firmly. Despite knowing he was lying, she said nothing; instead, she used this moment to remind herself why she demanded respect from everyone in her office. Respect worked both ways for her, and it showed because they would come to her with both their work problems and personal struggles - respecting them back was nothing less than the least she could do. Darlene was aware that Avery didn't report to her directly, but it still irked her that someone in such close proximity wasn't treating her with respect or being open and honest. If he hadn't been so distant, perhaps none of this would have mattered to her. "Look, I have the feeling you're going to be here for a long time. Why don't we go out to lunch and find out a little bit about each other so you aren't so tense around me all the time?" Maybe the last part was a little much to say, but it was true. He was like a stiff brick around her. "No, thanks. I don't really eat lunch, and if I do, I eat alone." Avery said, looking at the computer screen and ignoring her. She parted her lips and was about to say something vaguely hostile when a voice spoke up inside of her head. It sounded remarkably similar to a voice that used to tell her not to bite her nails in public or pick her nose or stare at the crack of a boy's ass while he bent over looking for his wallet on the bus or his diaper as she did by accident earlier. She didn't say the words on her lips; she was a leader and needed to keep her cool. "Well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind, and you don’t need to purchase yourself K-cups. I will be upset and insulted," she said. Her voice was calm and sweet but also firm as she walked off. At least this will make him have to come into her office at least once a day. Maybe he'll grab a cup in the morning in front of me every day, so he has to acknowledge me at least and have small talk. Darlene strode into her office, determined to get her afternoon coffee. She grabbed a K-cup to put it in the machine but noticed there was already a used one in there. "He couldn't even throw it away," She let out a frustrated sigh. As she tossed away the contaminated pod, Darlene began to brew a fresh cup of coffee and sat down at her desk. Her gaze shifted to Avery through the window as he busied himself with paperwork and studies. Despite taking him in when no one else wanted to, he still seemed distant and ungrateful. Swirling her mug around, Darlene pondered what made him so special - or why he had such disdain for her. With frustration, she set aside her thoughts and returned to work, reminding herself dinner was tonight with her sisters.

I have another installment. I hope everyone enjoys it. I had hoped to be putting out about 3 chapters a week but I haven't. I apologize for that. I haven't felt the most motivated lately since I have left home for work. It feels lonely. I thought it would give me more time. Hopefully, I'll find a way around this. Chapter 12 - Settling Back In Bryan arrived back at his floor, the third level, and rushed to his office to grab the notes Avery had been pouring over all weekend. He made his way over to Christy's desk with a heavy heart. "Christy?" Bryan said hesitantly. Christy spun around and smiled. "Hey Bryan, what do you need?" "Well, Avery is back in the building, but I'd like it if you kept quiet about it for now. He's on the fifth floor working in IT." Bryan kept his voice low and looked over his shoulders to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. Christy gasped. "I can't believe he would come back after everything that happened. I thought we were done with him!" She couldn't help but feel a pang of joy at the news as well. "Will he finish up what he proposed before?" "Yes, he will," Bryan replied, pausing to collect his thoughts. "Since you are so familiar with the program architecture, I figured you could lend a hand integrating his calculations and assist in setting up tests of the program against real data. But first, I have another favor to ask of you." Christy looked up from her desk chair expectantly. "Sure thing, what is it?" "I would like you to go fetch Avery's things and take them up to him. With the incident that happened last week, I don't want him to feel any more embarrassed than he has to." Bryan watched Christy closely for a response. Christy forced a smile. "No problem, Bryan," she muttered as she got up from her desk and walked towards Avery's old one. “It’ll be nice to see him again.” "Thanks so much," Bryan said gratefully. "Of course," Christy replied with an edge of bitterness in her voice. Christy made her way to Avery's desk and found his backpack. She unplugged his Laptop. As she opened Avery's backpack and started to pack the laptop, she noticed something. There were two pull-ups. She looked around to ensure no one was looking before she pulled one out. The pull-ups were white, with a blue line going down the middle of each side of the pull-up. They were soft and thick. She had to admit to being surprised. She hadn’t expected this at all, but it did make the accident the previous week make a little more sense. She couldn’t help feeling sympathy for her co-worker. They were clearly made for discretion with thin and soft layers that would hide easily under pants. Despite that, they were still thick enough that there was no mistaking them for a more traditional form of underwear. They had a lot of padding to absorb accidents —they seemed so innocent that they belonged more in a nursery than in this office. She wondered. "Has he been wearing protection all this time? Does he have bladder control issues?" Christy put the pull-ups back into the backpack along with his other items. She grabbed his coffee mug that he would drink out of, along with a few other things she thought he might need. As Christy grabbed hold of Avery's backpack, the sound of John's enraged voice filled Bryan's office. "I can't believe you would bring that jerk here! That guy has no business messing with my project, and I will not allow it! As I have already said, the calculations are fine--it's the programming that needs work!" "John, you don't make the decisions around here. If I say Avery is allowed to go over your calculations, then that's how it's going to be. You'll just have to accept it," Bryan declared, his voice rising louder and more stern than usual. John responded with equal fury as he attempted to match Bryan in volume. John slammed his fist against the side of Bryan's office door, a loud bang echoing throughout the room. "This project wouldn't have existed if it weren't for me! I'm the one who figured it out when no one else could. I'm the one who got us this far. I won't stand by and let some child who can't control their bladder show me up - you've tried to fire me before, and every time, it fails because this company knows how indispensable I am! You know for sure that this project failed because you allowed some immature kid to meddle with something that was perfectly functional." Bryan jumped from his chair, bellowing back at John. "You do not tell me what to do! I am your boss, regardless. I make the decisions around here. If you took the time to pay attention to his work rather than ignoring it, you might learn something - even if it isn't perfect, there's something in there we can use to increase our calculations' efficiency. It's up to you if you want to be part of this or not - I don't care either way!" Byran jabbed his finger towards the door, not even having to speak as John knew he was being dismissed. Christy watched from afar as John spun around with a fiery rage in his eyes. “You fucking morons!” he bellowed, stalking out of Byran's office. Christy stayed rooted to her spot, paralyzed by the sheer vitriol that radiated from John’s glare. He knew she had been the one to betray him, showing Byran the calculations Avery had been working on. It was written all over her face - the unmistakable betrayal of a traitor. She felt the man’s obvious anger cowing her a little, and she had to look away. She had known John wouldn’t like being undermined, but she hadn’t expected quite as much fury. Fortunately, John stalked away rather than confront her. He may have been able to get out of being fired a few times, but there were limits to what management could excuse him for. Christy walked towards Bryan's office, her steps slow and soft. "You ok? John sure seems pissed." Bryan glanced up, his eyes afire with frustration. "Yeah, he is, and I don't know how to live with him or without him. I get paid to handle his crap." Christy could tell that he was under pressure, and she admired him for what he had to put up with. Christy smiled gently as she said, "I know and am glad that I stayed here. I wouldn't have made it this long if it wasn't for you." His face softened in response to her appreciation, and he replied, "Well, at least there's one sane person around here." "I'm going to take Avery's stuff up to him now—it's the fifth floor, right?" Christy asked. "Yeah, that's right. Thanks for doing this," Bryan said gratefully. "No problem," Christy laughed lightly as she left, "Wish me luck!" She walked slowly, her fists clenched tightly with each step until she nearly collided with Zak and Ethan. Their eyes bore through her like an iron rod as they spat out the word 'Narc.' She felt her jaw clench, and her lips harden in fury, but she kept marching forward, suppressing the urge to turn around and face them. But their harsh words kept coming, almost as if they were daring her to do something--' Is Avery your pissy britches boyfriend?' Her blood boiled, and rage rushed over her body until it was almost palpable in the air, yet still, she contained herself, taking Bryan's advice that there is a time and place for confrontation. Now is not the time. Christy was glad when the elevator door opened. She got in, and the doors closed. She leaned back in the elevator glad to be out of their way for a while. She jokingly thought to herself. Maybe I could get a desk on the 5th floor too. As the elevator opened on the 5th floor, Christy stepped out. There were a lot of rows of desks. She never knew the IT department was so big; she never really had a reason to come up to this floor after all. She stopped by the first desk. “Excuse me, do you know where Avery Sage is?” A slightly overweight woman who was about Christy’s age looked up. “Who? I don’t know who you are talking about.” the woman replied. “Ok, then, do you know where Darlene Malatesta’s office is?” Christy asked back. “Of course I do.” the woman stood up. “Just head down this about three rows down on the desk and make a left. That will lead you to her office. If her door is closed, it means she doesn’t want to be disturbed, so only knock if it’s important.” “Thank you, and I will make sure not to disturb her if the door is closed.” Christy gave a nod as she followed the woman's directions. She turned left after going past the first three rows of desks. As she walked down towards the end of the aisle, she could see an open office door. A little further away than Darlene’s door, Christy saw him. Avery was sitting at his desk, and he looked distracted as he tapped away at his phone screen. Christy was nervous about seeing Avery. She didn’t know what his response to her showing up would be like. She felt he was finally starting to talk to her before the incident, and she hadn’t heard from him since. Avery didn’t notice Christy walking up to him until he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, Avery, I’ve got your stuff here. I thought you would like them. I even got your Lego coffee cup.” Avery looked up. There wasn’t a smile; she could tell he was nervous and wasn’t sure if he wanted to be there. Avery just nodded. He wanted Christy just to drop the items off and leave. He felt so awkward sitting on the chair in a diaper. Christy placed his coffee cup down on the table and handed him the bag. She then saw the lunch sack. “You brought your lunch today?” She asked. She was shocked because it seemed like Avery never ate when at work. “I guess you can say that…” Avery said softly. Christy was curious about what he brought. “What goodies are in there?” She reached over to grab the lunch sack, but Avery quickly grabbed it away from her hands. “Nothing special,” he snapped back at her. Christy was taken aback by Avery's behavior. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I put your computer, notes, notebook, and iPhone in your bag.” Christy looked at him as he seemed nervous, and his leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. “Well, I guess I'll go now. If you need anything, just look me up.” Christy was about to leave when she realized that there was more to this than she had expected. She felt unwanted, but could she really blame him for what happened? After all, it must have been so embarrassing for him. She steeled her resolve, and she grabbed a chair from an empty desk and wheeled it over to the desk where Avery was seated. “Avery, Bryan, and I were really impressed with your calculations." She said. "I was wondering if you could walk me through them so I can better understand them. Bryan also wants me to help you integrate your calculations into the program once they are ready.” Avery knew Christy wasn't going to leave until he agreed, so he slowly stood up and pulled his shirt down nervously as if trying to hide something. Christy noticed this gesture but didn't say anything. Suddenly, Avery paused, realizing that Christy must have seen the pull-ups in his backpack. Tears started welling up in his eyes as he became overwhelmed with embarrassment. Christy immediately caught on to what was going through Avery’s mind. She grabbed his hand with a gentle touch and looked him in the eye. “Avery, it’s ok. I saw what was in the backpack, and I don’t care. You’re smart and brave to be back here - I just want to help.” Avery felt a wave of emotion crash over him as he felt how tenderly Christy was holding his hand. It had been years since someone touched him this way. He wanted to hold onto her forever, but he withdrew his hand reluctantly, wiping away his tears with the back of his sleeve. He sat back down at the table, fumbling for words. He hesitantly met her gaze. She was beautiful and kind - so unlike the people downstairs that Avery usually encountered. He swallowed hard before speaking in a strained voice, “Thank you… I’m not good with people.” There was an awkward silence between them before Avery finally went back to his notes. Christy smiled warmly and tenderly as Avery got himself together again. “Ok, shall we get started I want to learn what you know.” Avery, eyes still watery, replied, “Sure, let's do it.” Avery pulled out the first sheet. “I started to realize the problem was in how a normal cell and a cancerous cell were being calculated differently. See here is how a normal cell is calculated in the program here and…” Darlene watched from her office as Avery and Christy talked; she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of frustration. On one hand, she was glad to see that he had found someone trustworthy enough to confide in, but it made her question why he wouldn't even talk to her. She tried to push those thoughts aside, reminding herself that he wasn’t her employee and she shouldn’t be so concerned about what was going on between them. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the nagging feeling stayed with her as she got up to close her door and log into a meeting.

I have lots of so onesies lol, I’ve been wearing diapers for years, 😂 Post fits in either, but I choose here. Oh look what I found, lol. My first post - added here for reference FTR still with same woman, now living together. 😘🥰😍😍😍😍🥰🥰😘😘😘😘

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.

Avery gets to present his work and hopefully impress everyone, especially Christy, after her words of encouragement. Chapter 4 - The Presentation Avery arrived at the office early, nervous and exhausted but determined. It was 8:00 a.m., but he had been there since 7:00 a.m. He wanted to make a good impression on his first day. Setting up his computer and backpack, Avery began the workday with a sense of contentment in the office's morning calmness that made him contemplate if working alone wouldn't be best for him. He went to grab another cup of coffee as his eyes felt heavy, but since no one was around, he had to make the coffee for the first time. He wasn’t sure how many scoops to put in the machine. He guessed three scoops looked about right for the size of the coffee pot. While the coffee brewed. He went to the bathroom. He had been going to the bathroom much more frequently due to all the coffee and water he was drinking. He decided to do the same thing as before and set the alarm for him to use the restroom every hour, just in case. He just had to hope no one noticed his odd behavior. The project meeting was scheduled for 10 a.m. Avery had two hours remaining to finish preparing his notes, which he printed out in a Word document to distribute among his project teammates. Next, John marched into the room with an air of arrogance, striding confidently past Avery without so much a glance. His voice bellowed in rage through his phone as he shouted fervently about some work-related crisis. Avery could feel the fury and intensity radiating off of John in waves, leaving him feeling insignificant and small. Christy then emerged wearing a light pink blouse and a matching skirt that fell to her knees, accentuating her small frame. Her eyes were gentle and warm, her lips curved in a comforting smile, and she gracefully approached his desk. Christy leaned over on his desk. “I'm so excited to see the outcome. I have faith in you; I know you will do brilliantly.” She smiled at him compassionately, offering him some comfort and support. “I was up late last night putting in some work. I think I made some real progress. Can’t wait to show everyone,” Avery said with a wide grin. Christy leaned over his desk to take a look at the document he was working on. She got a little too close for comfort, and Avery began to squirm slightly. “Wow, you managed to knock out all of this in one night? That's really impressive!” Avery could smell the perfume from Christy as she continued to lean over the desk. The scent of Christy's perfume was a refreshing mixture of the lily of the valley, the sweetness of freesia, and the warm, earthy notes of jasmine. It was an exquisite blend. “I was just going to present the problem with the calculations, but I sort of got on a roll and fixed the calculations and solved the formulas, which I hope we can plug into the program.” His voice choked a little as he could smell her perfume. She smelled as beautiful as she looked. Avery observed Christy examine the list of equations he had presented her. She stared at it for a moment, and Avery felt almost like a student eagerly awaiting their professor's assessment. Christy blinked twice, which told Avery she was having trouble comprehending everything that quickly, not because she wasn't smart enough but rather because it was too early in the morning. “Well, I am sure John will appreciate it a but he will ask you a few questions so he can sound smart.” She chuckled as she stood back up and walked to her desk As Avery watched her leave, he couldn't help but be captivated by Christy's scent. It was almost too much for him to handle, making it hard for him to concentrate on his paper. Still, he managed to finish it just before 10 a.m. He quickly printed out copies and distributed them to those in attendance. Just as he settled back into his seat, his alarm went off again—a reminder to use the restroom. He swallowed down another Valium and chugged the last of his third cup of coffee before standing up to present his paper with shaky hands. He got up and grabbed his folder with his notes and the documents he had printed out. He was walking by the conference room. John and everyone were already there. He was going to put his papers down on the table and then go to the bathroom real quick. But as he turned around to leave, John stopped him. “Where are you going, Avery? Are we starting without you? My philosophy on meetings is that they start on time—and if you're not early, you're late." John punctuated each word with conviction as he leaned back in his chair. Avery really had to pee but sat down at the end on the tables for fear of being laughed at again or upsetting John. Feeling anxious about needing the bathroom only seemed to amplify the pressure in his bladder; his foot rapidly tapped the floor nervously. The meeting began as a storm of tension and urgency. John hastily summarized the current progress issues in play and emphasized the critical importance of this project for the company. He slammed his fist down on the table to bring attention to the slide show that illuminated behind him: “Team, it is the first week of June - and time is running out!” A bug in the software has been identified that causes the calculations to either error or go into an infinite loop. He ordered Zak Carter and Ethan Astrum to rapidly discover the chemical makeup needed based on blood type, DNA, cancer type, and its stage of progression. Zak and Ethan have been working with John for many years, since before they both reached middle age. They both deeply understood the project and respected John, and he favored them in return. Their hair is starting to grey, and they have a confident air about them, knowing they have John's backing. Avery nervously eyed the agenda as John continued with a detailed explanation of future schedule and budget expectations. Relieved he was next in line to present his findings, Avery momentarily forgot about needing to excuse himself for the restroom until John spoke about the programming issue. Proudly remembering how he had uncovered the program problem, Avery felt empowered to speak up confidently – it wasn’t actually in programming code but rather within their strategy for calculation. “We have six million dollars at our disposal,” bellowed John - money allocated for salaries, third-party experts, analytical work, technical software, and hardware needed - sufficient funds if applied correctly - yet insufficient time to make it all happen. John's voice was like thunder, reverberating off the walls as he spoke. “The pilot plant will launch in mid-next year, and we have to make this work if we want to create drugs for human trials. We are talking about a massive study that involves 200,000 participants worldwide. This is a lot of custom drugs and lives on the line; the pressure is immense!” John pointed at each member of the team one by one. “We only have 6 million dollars to work with, and $1.3 Million has already been allocated for personnel for the whole year. If someone decides to leave, everything changes.” He eyed Christy intensely, her skin crawling with fear as his gaze lingered on her. Avery felt bad for Christy. He wasn't sure why John eyed her, but Avery's heart sank as he watched helplessly, wishing desperately that he could do something to shield Christy from John's intimidating words. John continued to outline the details of their budget as Avery paid little attention and worked his notes over in his head again. Johns's voice was deep and direct as he spoke. “Another $565,000 for the third part consultation was spent to date.“ John continued, “So, does anyone else know of any more consultations we may need?” “Analytical to date has been $1,500 million. I know we need more support, at least through the summer. Does anyone have a feel for what that number is?” There was silence as John moved on. “We have spent 240,000 and 270,000 on software and hardware, respectively.” “Now that we are done with the review. The first up to discuss their progress is Avery.” “Avery, would you like to tell us what you have found or progressed on?” Avery took a deep breath and stood up. He walked over to the whiteboard and grabbed a blue dry eraser. Every eye in the room was drilling into his skull as he slowly stepped towards it, clutching onto the blue dry eraser like a lifeline. Even with the Valium, his heart was racing. Avery started to speak “'there are two types of stable equilibria in a two-dimensional space: knot and focus.” Before he could continue, Zak quickly spoke up. “What does this have to do with solving the program problems?” John shifted in his chair as he made a tentative gesture with his hand towards the table, “We can....take a look at this...it could be interesting.” Avery couldn’t quite tell if John was mocking him or not, and his heart skipped a beat in worry. He tried to stay composed as he drew in a deep breath and felt Christy's reassuring gaze upon him, urging him to maintain his composure and remain steadfast. “What I'm trying to say here is that when I examined the program calculations, I noticed both methods were being used – for normal cells, the knot method was utilized while for cancerous cells the focused method was employed. However, when the program attempted to analyze the two results and identify the differences between them, it crashes or goes into a never-ending loop depending on its starting point.” Avery heard Zak murmur something under his breath to Ethane, which sounded suspiciously sarcastic. “He actually thinks he knows more than Ethane and me after we've been working on this for two whole years.” Ethane fired back. “Yeah, he doesn’t know what he's talking about…” Christy seethed with anger at their insolence. It seemed that she had heard similar words early on in her career. “Enough! Just listen to him for once. He put some effort into this.” John shot both Ethane and Zak a threatening look of warning. “Ok, let's review the difference between the two methods for stable equilibrium. A knot is an equilibrium point where the eigenvalues of the Jacobian matrix have no imaginary part. This means that the system will always return to the equilibrium point after a small disturbance. A focus is an equilibrium point where the eigenvalues of the Jacobian matrix have an imaginary part. This means that the system will move away from the equilibrium point in a spiral motion.” Avery explained tensely. Avery busily scribbled notes and diagrams onto the board, trying his best to illustrate his lesson. “No way, he's not teaching us anything new! Keep going if you think this is going somewhere though...” Zak said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Avery felt like he was about to burst from anxiety and fear; his bladder felt tight and uncomfortable, and a subtle trickle of urine trickled down his inner thigh before he could stop it. Struggling to contain himself, he turned away from Zak, Ethane, and Christy, facing the board instead as he continued to draw. “There are also three types of unstable equilibria in a two-dimensional space: knot, focus, and saddle, which is valid in the case of a cancerous cell since it is always changing. A knot is an equilibrium point where the eigenvalues of the Jacobian matrix have a positive real part. This means that the system will move away from the equilibrium point in a linear motion. A focus is an equilibrium point where the eigenvalues of the Jacobian matrix have a negative real part and a nonzero imaginary part. This means that the system will move away from the equilibrium point in a spiral motion. A saddle is an equilibrium point where the eigenvalues of the Jacobian matrix have different real parts. This means that the system will move away from the equilibrium point in two different directions.” “From this, you can select two methods to come to a solution the results will diverge and be different. You must choose either the focus method or saddle method for calculating the cancer cell and the noncancer cell to ensure that the difference between the calculations doesn’t occur.” Christy was quite impressed with his calculations and logic. “So why don’t we select the focus method because we used it once for the cancerous cell?” “Actually, Christy. That is the method I would recommend for the same reason. There is less program editing, and the cancerous cell is already harder to program.” Avery turned to smile at Christy. “Christy, don’t say anything till Avery is done before we make any judgment calls,” John lashed out to Christy. Avery could hear snickering as he tried hard to hold his bladder and closed his eyes once again. John, Ethan, and Zak were all talking, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Avery noticed John did not lash out at those two. Avery needed to get through this as quickly as possible. He felt another few drops of moisture drip out of him. He wondered if that was from the first leakage or if it was happening again. He tried to tense up again to hold on. He just needed a few more minutes… “Now, let's talk about the setup of the initial equation. The initial equation looks at the wall strength of the cell and the internal pressure created in the cell due to density as a function of the pressure and temperature in the cell. However, it does not consider the external pressure exerted on the cell by the fluid surrounding it.” Avery was starting to fidget back and forth like a little kid who needed to go to the bathroom as he held his bladder. “I should have never had all that coffee,” he told himself before continuing. “This means that the initial equation is only a simplified system model. To get a more accurate model, we need to take into account the external pressure. We can do this by adding a term to the equation that represents the external pressure.” Avery stood back from the board and looked at all his formulas, and then began to finish it up. “Once we add this term to the equation, we can then use the methods that I have described to analyze the stability of the equilibria. This will allow us to determine whether the cell is stable or unstable under different conditions.” He turned around, confident he proved himself right, but the faces on all three except Christy didn’t look too impressed. He hadn’t exactly expected rapturous applause, but he didn’t think he’d get completely stonewalled. A simple pat on the back would’ve done. Johns's voice was cold and serious as he spoke. “Ok, Avery, do you really think that this is all correct, and after only two weeks, you were able to come up with all this?” John looks offended; someone would have the nerve to tell him how to do these calculations. “Second, even if this is right, you must’ve had help. Which department did you get help from?” “I... I didn’t.” Avery got cut off by Zak when he stood up quickly. “You think this is going to work? It's just a load of crap math!” Zak jumped up, rage radiating from him. “Ethan and I have worked for years as and so much harder than you on this project!” He shoved Avery out of the way and proceeded to wipe the board clear, snarling in contempt. “Don’t! It is right!” Avery started to tear up, and not realizing he let go of his bladder as pee quickly filled up his pull-up and started to leak out and down his legs, as a wet stop showed up on his crotch and left leg. Avery froze in place as he felt the pull-up fail. The padding swelled up, and the warm urine spilled over the sides. Unlike the warmth of his disposable underwear, the liquid on his legs rapidly cooled as the pee ran down his legs. He gasped and wondered if there was any way to keep this quiet. When he looked down and saw the wet streaks on his pants, he knew it was impossible. Ethan's eyes widened with disbelief as he spotted Avery, and he yelled out in shock. “What the hell!? Is he PEEING?!” John staggered back a few steps, mouth agape, and exclaimed incredulously. “I think Pissy Britches is so mad we don't like his fake solution that he's actually -" Zak reacted quickly, spinning around to face the specter before him, his voice quivering as he blurted out in disgust. “Gross! He's peeing on the floor!" With fear racing through his veins, Zak quickly retreated away from this disgraceful sight. Avery felt mortified as he couldn’t move. He wanted to run away, curl up, and die, or at least to evaporate and become invisible. With a quick scan around the room, he realized that Christy was nowhere in sight. Had she seen his embarrassing accident? He prayed she had already left the room, and he simply hadn’t noticed, but he know she ran from watching the disgusting scene. The excruciating taunts seemed to stretch on for an eternity, though in reality it was only mere moments. Avery felt his body tense up as he tried his best to suppress the raging torrent of tears that threatened to break through. The door suddenly flung open again, and Christy reappeared with Bryan in tow. He strode into the room, scanning each person with a menacing stare. Christy stood meekly in the corner, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Avery. Her cheeks were stained with tears at the sight of Avery's torment. “What the hell, John? You should know better than this! All of you get out of here! This is disgusting and shameful behavior for all of you!” Bryan roared at John, Zak, & Ethan as he saw what had taken place. Zak defensively grabbed his belongings to leave. “It wasn't us who pissed in our pants and on the floor and made a mess everywhere.” Bryan snapped back in outrage. “Don't even start with me, Zak. Now get out!” Ethan followed with John, folding his laptop down and then leaving also. There was still some laughter as they left. Bryan looks John sternly in the face. “You are supposed to set the example and not be part of the problem.” John said nothing as he walked past Byran, looking really unphased by the comment. As he passed Christy, who was still behind Byran. He gave her a dark glare as he knew she went and got Byran. As they left, Bryan went over to Avery and put a caring hand on his shoulder. “I will take care of John and the team later, but we need to get you cleaned up first.I know it is embarrassing, but we can’t have you standing here like this. Can you at least go into my office and hide out there while we figure something out for you, OK?” Avery couldn't bring himself to look up, feeling both Bryans and Christy's stares. "Christy, you can go now. I'm grateful for your quick thinking. I will make sure there is no retaliation against you.” Bryan said. Avery watched Christy leave the room. He wondered what she was thinking. Any respect or friendliness she had for him must’ve evaporated as Avery stood in his puddle. "I am going to go get the janitor for the floor, but please go into my office. Don't worry about sitting on the chair," Byran said as he was so infuriated with John, Zak, and Ethan. There was no need for this. They are professionals. When Byran left, Avery took a deep breath and exited the conference room. Instead of going to Byran's office, he ran to the elevator, which had just opened, and someone walked out, leaving the elevator empty. Avery was done. He made a fool of himself. He was going to go straight home. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come back. After Byran got the janitor, he returned to his office to talk to Avery. When he entered, he wasn't there. Bryan sighed. "Poor kid." Bryan sat down in his chair and dialed a phone call. The phone picked up. "Hello, Byran. What is going on with you today?" Julian, the HR director, responded quickly to the phone call because the person calling him would show up on his office phone. "Not good news. It is John's behavior again. This time he really screwed up." Byran paused, and Julian could hear the sigh. "Let me just be blunt, he made our new Intern, Avery, piss in his pants, and I am not talking about a dribble but a full blow pissed in his pants all the way down to the floor, and then he and two of his engineers laughed and made fun of him." "That guy is a pain in our ass," Julian replied. "Let me come up there, and we can talk in your office. Luckily, I don't have any other meetings for the remainder of the day". "Sounds good. I will see you in a few," Byran hung up. This wasn't John's first run-in with making employees uncomfortable or threatening them. Unfortunately for Bryan, the company's CEO favored John because of all the patents he had created for the company. He leaned back in his chair and looked up, thinking how to best handle this. Avery is definitely upset and mortified. Would he even want to come back? Are there any legal ramifications Avery could take against the company? Just as he was thinking this. There was a knock on Bryan's office door. "Come in." "Excuse me, Mr. Wells." Christy walked in carrying several papers. "I think you need to look at these. I don't think John even gave Avery a chance". Christy handed the documents over to Bryan, placing them on his desk and listening to Christy talk while he reviewed them. Christy felt safe talking to Bryan because she, too, had several run-ins with John at work, where Bryan was able to take care of her. "I know you are aware of the long-standing problem of the program not converging and crashing all the time on the calculation for the drug formula. John has always insisted that the problem is in the program, not the calculations. I think he may be seriously wrong." Christy then pointed to the second page of all the hand calculations Avery was doing. "See here. We tried to use two different convergence formulas between the cancerous and normal cells. Each method has a fundamentally different starting point, which results which makes them incompatible with each other. Avery was trying to explain this." She paused to allow Bryan to take it in. He flipped back and forth between several papers. After a couple of minutes studying the calculations, as Christy stood there silently, letting him digest it all in, Byran's face turned red to looked upset. "How did we miss this for almost nine months?" He looked at Christy as if he wanted her to answer him. "I.. I.. don't know, Sir." Christy felt terrible not having a better answer. "I was never allowed to work on that part of the project. John's overly protective of this project. He makes it well known we are not allowed to work outside our bounds. In fact, I had heard John make comments to Avery about not focusing on the calculations." "I am sorry, Christy. I am not mad at you. I am just frustrated that we have wasted a lot of time looking for a problem in the wrong spot.” John sighed and shook his head. He had always tried to foster a spirit of teamwork, but clearly, it wasn’t working. Just then, there was another knock on Bryan's door. Julian walked through. "Hey Julian, one second," Bryan said. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. I will look through the papers more later. I promise there will be no repercussions for bringing this to me or letting me know what happened in the meeting quickly." Christy nodded. "Thank you, Sir." She turned around to leave the office. "Oh, one more quick thing, Sir. Look over the second page on external pressure. That is something I am not sure would or would not apply. Avery never got to explain this." She then walked out as Julian gave her an inquisitive look. "I can’t help but ask, since I heard Avery's name in your conversation with Christy, what was that all about?" Julian walked over and pulled up a chair on the opposite side of Bryan. Bryan sighed again as he looked at Julian. They had been working for this company for over fifteen years and had known each other for some time. "You know how we have been writing this program to calculate a custom-made drug for specific cancers and how we have struggled to get it to coverage on some of the most theoretical calculations." Bryan paused to let Julian catch up since the project's technical details weren't common knowledge for him. "John may have been severely wrong in his approach." Julian leaned back in the office chair. "So let me see if I can sum this up. John's own arrogance and lack of compromise have prevented his team from finding a solution to this problem, which billions of dollars are dependent on for the company to build this pilot plant. Which he is putting this project at risk. Then an intern arrives and finds a potential solution in less than two weeks." "Yep, that sums the first part up well." Bryan looks through the papers still. "We need to do a much deeper dive into Avery's calculations to really vet them, but it looks promising." "So where is Avery, this brilliant young man, then?" Julian asked as he expected to find Avery in his office. "I checked his badge just before Christy came in, and he has checked out of the building. I can only assume he went home." Bryan looked up at Julian. Julian gave a little chuckle. "So the rest of this story is that we have a brilliant young man who left the office building. Who now holds the calculations and understanding of our fundamental problem. If I were that young man, I would not come back because I have been humiliated to death having urinated in front of his team members, and then I am sure others saw him on his way out. Which could lead to some possible legal problems if he doesn't return. Wow, what a H.R. nightmare." Byran looked at Julian. Nothing could elevate Julian's blood pressure. No matter how bad things or crazy things got, he was always calm and humorous. "The problem is we both know we can't get rid of John no matter how badly we want to. Regardless of what H.R. rules he broke, our CEO will not allow us to terminate John. I can hear him just yelling at us and saying, 'Just deal with it!'" Julian then spoke with confidence. "Your job is to get Avery back and ensure he is ok." "I will pull in a favor with Darlene and ask her to house Avery and allow him to continue with the project under your direct supervision." He paused for a second and then continued with his thoughts. "We will still write John up yet again, but this time impose a restraining order within our company that he can not be alone with Avery without one of us present at all times." "But, do you think that will stop John from harassing him? He won't listen to the so-to-speak restraining order." Bryan looked unsold on Julian's idea. "I agree he might stay away a week or two, and then he will ignore that restraining order. But that is why I am putting him with Darelene's department. I have never met a manager who takes more interest in her employees and becomes very protective of them. Her personality might put John in his place the first time she meets him and crosses her line of authority." Julian looked at Bryan with a sense of confidence that Bryan knew he knew something about this woman. He had only met her when the CEO would call for a leadership meeting. "Well, I guess we both have work to do." Julian got up and smiled as he walked out of the office. "Let us salvage this. I will go talk to Darlene."

Trans-women are real women Trans-men are real men Transgender is a real thing. Trans-people are welcome here Anyone who disagrees with that is required to keep it to themselves while on this board. I can't police your thoughts, but I can control abuse of trans members on these forums.

42 - Bathtime Blues Hear the knob! Ready for the pounce! Plant your feet and–! “Welcome hom–!” Emily shouted with a cheer as she started to soar, yet the train barreling through the doorway had caught her completely and expectedly. She couldn’t finish her signature line because her face was currently being smothered into her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Awwwhhh! My sweet baby girl!” Joyce cooed and rocked, shaking her all over as her hips turned one way then the other. “I missed you so much! So-so-so much!” A refreshing gasp of air entered Emily’s lungs once her face was released. “Home!” she finished her line, “At least let me finish!” With Joyce’s burst of emotional Amazonian strength, she supported Emily in her arms long enough to knock the door shut with her backside before putting her back on her feet. Standing from the slate entrance she gave Emily another tight hug, propped up on the wooden floor. “Didja miss me?” Emily giggled. “Did I miss you?” Joyce scoffed with a gasp right before another smothering affection. With some distance between their lips she doubled down again. “Yes, I missed you!” And yet all her excitement and love was just a front. “I…I’m sorry I took so long to get back to you last night…” “And I said last night that it was fine…” Emily leaned out on her ledge to pat Joyce’s head with a grin. “But you didn’t tell me much…” She made a sly face. “So? What happened? Anything fun? Crazy?” Joyce pulled her suitcase up and into the home. “It was…interesting.” “Ouuuu~!” Emily ‘ahhed’ all the way to the bedroom, poking Joyce’s jacket all the way. “Crazy kind of interesting? What’d you see? Did Carol do anything? What was the place like?” “It was…normal. Carol was fine, though we sort of split up for most of it…” Normal? Something like that? The enthusiasm had been killed some. “Oh, was it? Uhm…so what was it like?” “Lots of people at a restaurant sort of place… Name tags. Conversations…boring stuff.” A sideways glance had been earned. Her sales pitch clearly wasn’t very dazzling. Emily hopped on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs by the unzipped luggage. “Y’know, when you weren’t telling me much last night, I figured you were saving it for once you got home...” “I would tell you if something meaningful happened,” Joyce chuckled, dismissively. “It was actually just like one of my normal business dinners…” So it’s a very good thing Emily didn’t go… “...Okay.” With a shirt hanging from her hands, Joyce looked at her expectantly, hiding her own guilt. “You don’t believe me?” “No…?” Emily tilted her head. “Just gotta feeling.” “A feeling?” “Uh-huh,” Emily nodded. Maybe she was starting to read minds like Joyce, too? “You can tell me, you know?” “Tell you about what?” Tell her about Isabelle… “Something happened,” Emily pointed her finger accusingly, “I know it.” “...Nothing happened. More importantly, what time did you get to bed last night? I called you pretty late, you know?” “No!” a whine escaped the excited girl, “You can’t do that! Answer my question first!” “And are you dodging mine?” Joyce flipped the script. “Times. I want them.” “A little before midnight– there! Now answer my–!” But Joyce’s eyebrows were already ascending at an incredible speed. As high as could be before Emily had a snowball’s chance in hell of finishing her pseudo-big girl defense. “A little before midnight? This is why I don’t leave you home alone…” Joyce sighed with a face held in her hand. “After how hard I’ve worked to get you on a sleep schedule…” “I was on one before and it was one time!” It wasn’t even a school night! “And one is enough to make you excited into trying for two,” Joyce tutted, putting away the last of her clothes. “Early bedtime tonight. Both of us.” “Then you do it by yourself!” Emily deflected, clearly not likened to the idea of going down with the ship. “What? It’s my first night back and you don’t want to snuggle together?” “Urgh!” Emily grit her teeth, doing her best to shoulder the blow to her heart. Damn! No cuddles without Joyce…? “I’ll…snuggle, but I’m staying up after.” And just for good measure, “but I’ll go to sleep at our normal time…” “Once I fall asleep you’ll be free to go,” Joyce smiled amicably. Sure. Go stay up late if you think you can wiggle out of my arms tonight…! With the crooked deal having been made, their walk and talk continued over to the closet. “Oh, that’s right; Sheila stopped by last night, didn’t she?” It was a very brief conversation last night over the phone. There was difficulty in trying to talk to Emily just to hear her voice without spilling her own situation over. And with a surge of vividly embarrassing and truthfully joyful memories, Emily nodded simply, “Yeah, she did.” Apparently Sheila must’ve contacted Joyce at some point. Good to know it was planned, at least the file part. Dinner though…? “Uh-huh,” Joyce wheeled the empty case back in its place, “I’m sorry I didn’t know any sooner to tell you. She’s usually in and out, but I should’ve told you to expect someone… I take it that she was quick, right?” “...Yeah.” Emily may have been lucky earlier having a ‘feeling,’ but Joyce with her feelings stacked on top of keen intuition struck much more confidently. “What happened?” “What?” Emily stammered, avoiding eye contact as she strolled back over to the bed. “Nothing happened…!” This was certainly weird. Emily was hiding something about Sheila visiting? That didn’t sit right with the mommy in charge at all. Not one bit. “No, spill it. I know something happened.” And don’t make me check the security cameras… “We just talked a little, is all…” “Talked?” Was talking about anything worth keeping a secret over? “Emily, what happened?” Sheila, of all people? What did she do? “It’s not even that big of a deal…” “Which is why you’re gonna tell me?” Ouch. Hands on the hips. It wasn’t looking good for Emily. “It was just about stuff…” “Stuff?” Stuff? “What kind of stuff?” “...Secret.” “No,” Joyce shook her head, “nuh-uh, no secrets.” No secrets from the two people either emotionally or contractually obligated to tell her nothing but the truth. Sheila told the truth if she wanted to keep her job. Emily told the truth if she wanted ice cream or a diaper change. But more importantly, why did anything happen with Sheila at all? Wasn’t she just a go and get it done type? Since when did that change? “Nope,” Emily shook her head right back, wrists and back on their bed, “not gonna tell.” After all, she swore to secrecy with Sheila… “Emily…” that expectant motherly tone was starting to flare. Then the smaller girl made a daring taunt. “What’re you gonna do, not cuddle with me?” Joyce’s muscles stiffened. Crud. It would appear that a deadlock had been reached. “...Why can’t you tell me what happened?” Joyce tried to negotiate; something she certainly did not like being made to do. “Because I promised not to…” Promised not to tell Joyce anything that Sheila said about her. Then some dots started to connect for Emily and the verbiage her girlfriend had been using was reviewed. “Oh, wait! I can tell you what happened, but not what we talked about?” A great sigh and roll of her eyes dropped Joyce right on the bed next to her. “Well start from there, silly.” Goodness, to think this was about to escalate to tickle torture all over just a simple misunderstanding! “She stayed for dinner,” Emily said quite simply and openly, despite how awkward it actually was at first. “Dinner?” Joyce cocked an eyebrow. “Sheila did?” “Yeah,” Emily nodded. “Though…she kinda invited herself to stay…” At one point it had crossed her mind that maybe it was all something that Joyce had put her secretary up to, but the look on her girlfriend’s face was telling a different story. “Was she not supposed to?” “No…not really. She sent me a message about having to get a file from my computer last night, but that was it. So, she stayed for dinner? Sheila did?” The same Sheila that wouldn’t even accept a drink from her boss? Now Emily was propping herself back up. “Wait, so her staying over wasn’t your idea?” Joyce shook her head pensively. “No, it wasn’t. That’s…really not like her. When did she leave?” “After she made us dinner…?” “Sheila made dinner? For you both?” Were they talking about the same person? Sheila had access to their home, yes, but that was strictly for work reasons. What reason was there in staying to have dinner? None of this was sitting well at all. Uh-oh. Sheila was maybe in trouble… Emily kept most of her thoughts to herself, although she did ask, “Should…should I have said no? I was trying to call you about her being there that whole time…” “It’s just a little weird is all, I guess. I’ll be talking to her about it tomorrow at work, though. Did…anything weird happen?” Anything weird other than being made dinner? Anything weird other than accidentally being caught wearing her footie pajamas from the nursery that she wasn’t supposed to? Lord, she hoped Joyce didn’t check those cameras… “No…we just talked, I guess. It was actually kinda fun…” Fun? With Sheila? Not that Sheila wasn’t fun or interesting, probably, but Joyce couldn’t speak to any of that. Sheila was a shadow that took notes and made the world bend to her boss’ whims. Not the sociable and friendly face that cooked dinner for people? “And what’d you two talk about?” Emily’s mouth clamped shut. Joyce rolled her eyes. “It was about me, wasn’t it?” “--No!” Emily blurted out, though she couldn’t have sounded less convincing if she tried. Baiting Emily was so easy that it almost made Joyce feel bad. “Uh-huh?” Joyce nodded with a grin, one that didn’t believe for a single second that it wasn’t about her. “Let me guess: bad stuff?” While there was the option to stay in denial, Emily hardly had the fortitude to commit to something like that, especially against Joyce. Maybe it was a mind over matter situation, but trying to beat Joyce in a battle of wits simply seemed impossible. The thought of triumph alone was too exhausting to imagine. “No, good stuff! Joyce stuff… The stuff you won’t tell me about work!” “The stuff I don’t talk about because I want to keep that stuff separate, Emily.” Gosh, did Sheila actually talk about her at work? What if she mentioned something about how she can blow up at others? Appear as scary or intimidate others? Emily had no business knowing that. She was supposed to see Joyce as a mother and a lover, not a tyrant! The thought of affecting that persona was legitimately vexing. Did her secretary really just go and ruin all of that? “Well I thought it was really cool stuff…” Emily put on an exaggerated sulk. “I’m glad to know that I’m not the only one you get upset with…” Joyce spun her head and Emily raised her giggling hands defensively. “Relax! If anything, it really just sounds like you’re the same way at work as you are here?” Joyce was reluctant to leave it at that, but hopeful that’s where Emily’s conclusions actually stuck. “...Maybe a little,” she sighed, “but I don’t tell you that stuff for a reason, Emily. I don’t want to be a businesswoman to you. I want to be your girlfriend…” When things had first started Joyce’s wealth alone was already a straining force on their relationship. Now that they were finally somewhere to get beyond that, the thought of trying to add any more turmoil to the mix just felt wrong. “And you still are, Joyce…” Emily draped her arms up and over Joyce’s shoulders. “I like hearing about your work? I guess I got excited because Sheila told me something that you wouldn’t… Don’t get angry at her.” Joyce was certainly feeling something for her trusted confidant. “Okay. We’ll leave it at that. Thank you for being honest with me,” even if it had taken a little tooth pulling. “So, more importantly, what did you two have for dinner?” “Oh…uhm, pasta and a salad?” “As good as my cooking, though?” And suddenly whether it was friend or foe, secretary or stranger, treatment for Emily was always an ongoing competition. “No, not as good,” Emily assured, though more so to stroke her partner’s ego. And come to think of it, Joyce definitely won by a landslide. After all, Sheila had made the rookie mistake of using beets of all things. Good thing Emily was skilled in making it look like she was eating them. A thought crossed the girl’s mind to request that the vegetable be blacklisted right then, but knowing Joyce… Well, as of late, telling Joyce the things that she did not like always seemed to somehow make them that much more common in her life. Yucky vegetables would not be discussed on this day. Redacted. And as great of a sight as Joyce was to look at, Emily happened to look back down at her suitcase and notice the shopping bag inside of it. Just as she started to move for it, Joyce smoothly pushed it away. “No, not yet,” Joyce teased, and Emily frowned. “What? Did you get me a souvenir or something?” “Sort of? Guess you’re gonna have to wait and find out, huh?” “Or…you could just let me see now?” Joyce rose from the bed, standing with Emily’s legs around her waist. She taunted ever so lovingly right back, “Or you can wait until it’s time to show you?” Then she made a loud sniff. “Hmm…Emily, did you take a shower while I was gone yesterday?” “Oh come on! Stop exaggerating! I was too busy!” “Too busy napping and having dinner made for you by my secretary?” “W-well…” Emily didn’t need much time to think as she was carried down the hall. “Yeah. You wouldn’t get it. It was a ‘had to be there’ sort of thing…” With the flick of a switch the spacious bathroom was on and the lights were living. “That so? Well, what do you say to a nice scrub-a-dub in the tub so I can get you nice and squeaky clean?” And Emily answered right back with her own obnoxious sniffing. “I’d say you need a bath too, missy.” “Oh,” Joyce scoffed with a laugh, “I know I smell fine! You’re just jealous I’m not on a bathtime schedule, is that it?” “Say whatever you want,” Emily with a nasally pitch shrugged as she pinched her nose. “I’d just hate for everyone to think how stinky you are tomorrow!” Joyce sat Emily on the step beside the rim of the tub before rolling up her sleeve to turn on the faucet. “No, I guess I probably do need a bath now that your stinky-ness is rubbing off on me, huh?” “Sorry Joyce, I think that’s just you~!” Emily called after her girlfriend who disappeared from the bathroom. Not a minute later and she was back with a familiar shopping bag from a suitcase that’d been punched out of Emily’s reach. “New fancy towels?” Emily mused. “Oh! Conditioner? I actually wanted to try some new stuff that I saw on TV the other day!” Joyce always did know just how to surprise her! “Close!” Joyce giggled excitedly with the bag in her lap. “I got a couple things, actually…!” “Well don’t make me wait!” Emily crawled over to peer inside, but Joyce already pulled out the first thing. A tall bottle of many words and a large logo of a shiny soap bubble. Not what she was quite expecting. “Ta-da!” Joyce cheered, and not a second later she was gingerly pouring the bottle into the filling bath. “Wait, bubble bath soap?” Emily asked as she watched the tiniest bubbles already starting to form. Maybe not what she was quite expecting, but fair enough… “I saw some at the airport! As soon as I saw it, I knew we had to get some!” Finally making good on a promise that’d been a long time coming, it felt good to realize just a couple more desires. It went without saying that Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d mingled with bubbles in a bath since ever, nor if a memory even existed with them. So while she wasn’t quite excited to receive the gift, it was a souvenir nonetheless that clearly made Joyce happy. Wrapping her arms around Joyce, Emily smiled. “Thank you for the gift!” “You’re very welcome!” Joyce hugged her right back. “But…! There’s more!” More than that? Well, come to think of it, the bag did seem a bit bigger than what just a single bottle of soap would call for… Emily’s hands latched on to the plastic bag, stationary for long enough to let Joyce swipe them away, but she didn’t. Interpreting that as consent, Emily looked inside the bag. There were multiple plastic cubes inside. Plastic packaging, at least. Clear cubes of stuff that had bright colored packaging and labeling trims on all their edges. Bathtime Blast! They were certainly not the puzzles she wanted to take into the bath like last time. Emily pulled out one of the cubes and looked at it. It was a generously sized bath toy sitting in both her hands. A spherical puffer fish stared back at her with a cartoonish smile and flimsy fins attached to its ball-like body. Admittedly unsure of how to react, Emily grinned dumbly as she asked what was already obvious, “Bath toys?” “So no more asking about bringing anything else in the bath, alright?” Joyce said as she dumped the bag of toys on the floor. There were five other cubes just like the one Emily had pulled out. A shark, an octopus, a clown fish, a turtle, a crab, and a sea urchin? If nothing else, it was admittedly kind of cool that they were all part of a matching set… Joyce always was good at accessorizing. “You didn’t actually need to get me these, you know?” Emily laughed as she helped with opening the packaging. “And let your baths stay boring?” Joyce couldn’t have sounded like it was any worse of a turn off. “You don’t have to play with them, but from now on if you’re in the bath, so are they.” With one ceremonious plump after another, each rubber toy splashed with the water as every saltwater creature was made acquainted with its freshwater home. Emily was next pulling off her shirt while Joyce had her pants and underwear sliding off all in the same stroke. “You’re getting in too,” Emily reminded her by undoing the button on Joyce’s jeans. And without the strength or will to reverse the process, Joyce undid the zipper next. “Okay…fine. You win.” “What? Do you not wanna take a bath with me that badly?” “Obviously not,” off came her shirt, “but I figured maybe with one less thing to play with you might actually try out your new toys!” “I’ll play with them…!” Emily groaned with her hands slapping the surface of the soapy water. “Are you sure they’re souvenirs for me, by the way? Kinda just seems like something you want to see me with…” “And I almost might have agreed with you, had you not been squeezing one of them just now,” Joyce was smiling ear to ear, catching Emily red-handed, or crab-handed specifically, who didn’t even realize just how aimless and distracted her hands were. Suddenly some of the local aquatic life was soaring across the tub with another splash. “It’s still a fair question…” “A question that will remain a mystery,” Joyce sufficed with a pat on Emily’s bare bum. “Now hop in. If we’re quick we can still fit in lunch!” And while managing lunch into such a tight timeframe was a questionable squeeze, somehow two adults and an armful of bath toys into a massive tub was not. The realization alone was enough to make Emily laugh as she smacked the water again. “It’s kinda like an ocean if you think about it?” “An ocean that barely has any life in it…” Joyce looked at the spread glumly. The unfortunate drawback to having a big tub was the steep number of toys that was needed to fill it. “I should have bought you more…” While she was feeling awfully proud in the store with so many toys, her imagination had clearly sold her bathroom short. “It’s fine,” Emily said, swiping a toy as she scooched right up against Joyce in the water. “You really set the bar so high for yourself in the weirdest ways, ya know…” “It’s because I care,” Joyce kissed the top of her head, reaching outside the tub for an empty cup. “Besides, what I love about you so much is how you’re always fidgeting with something,” she chuckled, “so I really do think these are great for you.” Whether it was Pip, a puzzle, a pillow, or Joyce herself, Emily in her blankest of moments always was busying herself with something, whether she realized it or not. But most importantly, a justified reason for babying Emily? Quite simply that put Mommy over the moon, and for Emily it put her head in a weird, cushy space. Just as a soapy dribble was starting to trickle onto Emily’s head, she started to ask, “So when are you gonna–!” Yet the trickle had grown into something more than that; a full on waterfall over the girl, now with wet hair in her face. “Sorry? You were saying?” “When,” Emily draped back her hair like they were curtains, “are you gonna tell me what actually happened last night?” “I already did?” “No you didn’t. Joyce? We promised? No more lies?” “...Is it really a lie if I just don’t tell you anything at all…?” “Yes, it is.” All Joyce did was take a breath, scooping another soapy helping of water and splashing it all over Emily’s head again. Joyce was stalling again. Emily grouched, “Hey.” “We still have to get you clean?” Joyce smiled above her innocently. “Fine,” Emily huffed, picking herself up and spinning around. She took her time in tugging Joyce’s legs out and positioning them just right to make herself a nice comfy lap to sit in. And just so the pressure stayed strong, Emily sat herself squarely in front of Joyce. Face to face. “Let’s make a deal, Miss businesswoman.” That made the adult narrow her eyes. “Hey.” “You tell me what happened last night,” Emily started, then squeezed, suddenly surprising herself once a stream of water went flying. “Ah!” Joyce yelped the moment it just barely hit her eye. “Emily!” Surprised and amazed, Emily looked down at the toy. “I didn’t know they squirted…! Sorry…!” And as apologetic as she was on paper, her giggles made her remorse seem questionable. Joyce’s answer was another cupful of water over Emily’s head. “Well they do!” It was a fair rebuttal and Emily was giggling the entire time, all the way up until Joyce finished wiping her face with a towel. “Squirt those the other way, please?” “Sure, sure,” Emily nodded dismissively, sure to break such a fickle rule again shortly, “but back to brass tacks. Tell me what happened, and…” And…something along the lines of making a deal that she had yet to fully think through. A prime reason for why she wasn’t the one wearing the business pants. “And I’ll tell you his name,” Emily held up a face Joyce was already less than fond of. The octopus responsible for sending a stream of water in her face. “So if I tell you about last night, you’ll tell me about your bath toy?” “Fair, right?” Damn it. Yes, it somehow was. “...Fine.” Emily’s skin rubbed against Joyce’s as she got somehow comfier than she already was. And just as Joyce was about to start– “--Wait!” Emily cried, “Hold this first!” She shot first and asked questions later, shoving the octopus toy into Joyce’s hand. “Okay, okay. Ready for real!” And now with her hands free, her imagination was left unhindered to spin and weave many different threads into something purely magical. Grouping clumps of soap bubbles, Emily got to work while she listened. “--And she just said it. Right in the open. She accused me! She…she just asked if I was a mommy on the spot…!” “Wait, so like, she just figured it out?” Emily asked with a wide-eyed expression. “But she just met you?” “Yes!” Joyce flexed her shoulders with an exasperated sigh. A tickle reached her nose though and she was immediately blowing on it. “Oops, sorry,” Emily wiped her face for her, leaving even more soap behind than what she removed, “my brush isn’t so good…” she looked at her soapy fingers. “What are you doing up there, anyway?” “Find out later. So what was her name? Isabelle? I…I guess that’s really weird. She could actually just tell from looking at you?” “I don’t know…” Joyce sighed again, wanting to sink lower in the water, had she not been balancing a naked Mozart in her lap. “I just…it felt so…violating? Like, who was she to just ask me that? To keep asking?” “Did you ask her to stop?” As silly as it was, vocally revoking consent was important. “Yes! W-well…sort of… I told her to stop…I think…” Then came another embarrassing admission. “But I kept answering every time she tried to guess… But wait, why aren’t you upset? Doesn’t that freak you out? That somebody else knows?” “Aren’t they just a stranger?” Maybe she had gone insane or there were simply too many bubbles on her mind, but Emily was steadfast on the course of simply just listening. It wasn’t often when she got to be Joyce’s complete sounding board, so it was awfully important she make the most of it. So somehow, miraculously, despite an encounter with someone like Joyce’s mom, yes, this wasn’t affecting her. “They are…” Which in itself is an immense relief. It’s what probably allowed her to leave the anxiety back in the state she flew from and just needed to deal with whatever residual worries she had now. “Maybe she was like a kinky whisperer, or something,” Emily thought out loud, fussing with Joyce’s head some more. “Hey, do you want to be a unicorn or a wizard?” “Emily.” Now wasn’t the time for funny hat discussion. “Okay, I’ll choose,” Emily continued on. “But no, I guess I’m not really worried… She doesn’t know us, and we don’t know her? I mean, isn’t there some kind of risk involved in going to stuff like that?” “Sure, I mean yeah, but…” “I mean, I’ll be honest,” Emily paused to swipe away the toy shark starting to sneak its way in. Octopi obviously weren’t friends with sharks. “I think me not having gone makes it a lot easier to be calm, but I guess I sort of have a broader perspective because of it…?” “Fair,” Joyce nodded carefully, trying not to mess up whatever her little girl was working on up there. Whatever it was, the distinct clearing of bubble-less water around them said that she was using quite a bit of material. “Did you only go because Carol invited you?” Emily asked a bit more seriously. “The other day when we were in bed and we were talking before you left. You were sort of joking about that babysitter stuff, weren’t you?” Joyce didn’t answer readily, so Emily tacked on some more. “...Did…did you want to get found out?” A dribble from the faucet plopped into the water. “No. No. Definitely not. No! No, this stuff is a secret. It stays between us. I don’t want anyone to find out!” No one more than who needs to, at least! “It’s private, Emily, I promise. I wouldn’t do that. I went because of Carol. Sure, I was a little curious, but really, it was only for that. Just that. Seriously.” And it was one of those rare moments where not only did Emily get to look down on her partner, literally, but in that same circumstance it was another opportunity to see her rock look so flustered. Emily took the chance to swab some bubbles on the tip of her nose, to which Joyce partly sneezed. “Emily…!” “Sorry, I don’t get to do stuff like this often!” Emily was thinking something, and Joyce was too. Joyce was thinking what she thought Emily was, and all that remained was for the baby in charge to say it herself. “I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself,” Emily casually chatted as she moved on to the final detailing of her masterpiece. “No, I am being honest.” Joyce proclaimed. “This stuff is private, Emily.” “So why did you let her keep asking you?” Emily drilled, and Joyce winced, for once not from the soap. “--Because she wouldn’t stop pressuring me!” “But you could’ve walked away?” “She had us sitting!” Emily’s mouth tucked itself behind her cheek. A poor excuse for even Emily’s standards, and Joyce was avoiding eye contact. “Can I try guessing?” Now the one acting all demure and vulnerable, Joyce pouted, “You’re gonna even if I tell you not to…” “I think you did want someone to know. Since talking to me the night before, or maybe even earlier than that, since Carol told us about this whole thing. I think you wanted to meet somebody that knows this kind of stuff. Someone that gets what being a mommy is like.” “...You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” “...Kind of,” Emily admitted, “but I guess also not so much. Joyce, I don’t know how much you actually talk to other people about this kind of stuff.” After all, half the mystery and wonder of getting an entire tailored nursery was not knowing nearly anything about what went into getting it all put together. “But you know yourself best, and all I can do is guess, so… My guess is that you wanted something out of this. You wanted to find something close to what we do… What we have together?” Amazing what a different perspective on things could do for a person. A fearful voice spoke, “And…and if I said you were right…?” “Then I’d want ice cream,” Emily declared, “no exceptions. That, and I think you must’ve been scared because you actually got what you wanted? I think I’d probably stop breathing if I was there in that moment… But anyway, you got what you wanted and it scared you? I dunno why, but that’s my guess.” “It was scary…like– If she could just guess so easily, what’s stopping anyone else from figuring it out?” “Maybe she knew how to guess because of the kind of event it was,” Emily shrugged. “I guess I’m upset because you tried taking things to the next level without actually telling me, Joyce… But since it was with a stranger, it doesn’t bother me so much…” “I…I don’t know what I was thinking… I don’t even know what I wanted. Is it weird? Ever since Carol told us about it at their house…I’ve been thinking constantly…there has to be more to this, right?” They weren’t the only two in the world? Adult baby furniture existed online for a reason. Giant pacifiers, big baby bottles. Stylized diapers for adults. “I…I wanted to find something that maybe we didn’t have yet…” “Maybe you sorta did, but I think you kinda ran from it,” Emily finally dropped her hands. “Okay, I’m done, but no looking until we get out of the bath!” “I need to wash my hair, Emily…” “Then do it after you finish washing me!” “Fine, you win,” Joyce gave up easily with a smile, finding her cup again. “Thank you for picking at my brain…” “Thanks for not exposing us,” Emily giggled, then turned her head. “W-wait! I’m kidding! It’s a joke!” A douse of water was promptly dumped on her head. No more lip from Emily after that. Sensitive topics were strategically avoided for the remainder of bath time after that. A little bit later and Joyce’s upper half was leaning out of the tub as she tried to squint at the mirror. “Is…is it a unicorn horn?” A very thick and stubby one, it seemed. “Half-right!” Emily beamed with pride. “A horn and a hat! You didn’t choose so I gave you both!” “Well,” Joyce turned her head every which way like she was modeling a summer-season set of fashion, “very chique, but a bit out of style, I think… Can Mommy wash it off now?” “At least compliment it!” Emily groaned, “and yes, you can.” Right before giving herself a shower of water, Joyce kissed Emily on the lips. “Thank you for such a pretty hat…horn hat.” And while Joyce took some time to clean herself, Emily casually piddle-paddled around the tub. “Ah! Wait?” Joyce called from her spot. Emily looked over and Joyce was holding up the toy octopus. “We had a deal, didn’t we? What’s his name?” “Oh. Uhh…Inky.” Obviously. Then she gave Joyce a toothy grin. “Cuz he squirts?” After pursing her lips, suddenly a thin stream of assault was firing across the tub. “Ah! Joyce! Mercy! Mommy! Stop!” Bath time didn’t last much longer. And later as Joyce was drying them both off, a new and uncomfortable subject had arisen. “Oh, and speaking of all that misbehavior in the tub, that reminds me,” Joyce rubbed Emily’s head with a towel. “I think I may have made a slight mistake before leaving for the airport…” “Yeah?” “Mhm. I don’t think you noticed, surely, but I forgot to lock the nursery shut…” Uh-oh. Play dumb, Emily. “R-really? That’s unlike you…” “Yes, it really is. I know you didn’t unlock it because I kept the key with me. Unless you’ve been learning how to pick locks?” “Ha-ha, very funny,” Emily crudely joked, secretly glad for keeping her act so well together. “No, I didn’t even notice. Be glad Sheila didn’t either.” “Even if she did, I doubt she’d snoop,” Joyce continued casually, and froze her hands the moment she had them over Emily’s arms. “But…you wouldn’t believe the weirdest thing that I saw?” “What’s that?” “This cute little foot peeking from underneath our bed! In fact, I just saw it when I went to get your bath toys from my suitcase!” A cold sweat hit the girl. “Uh…huh?” “Uh-huh,” Joyce nodded, continuing to dry a frightened Emily. Now that her therapy was done she felt free and unchained to use and assert her dominance yet again, and how wonderfully sweet of Emily to give her the opportunity to boot. “It was a cute, fuzzy blue foot, actually! A furry one! Almost like…a pair of footie pajamas we keep in your nursery?” Shit! When Sheila had her undress, it was a mad dash back to the bedroom just to get it off. It was trying to reason with herself that she’d go stash it back in the nursery once Sheila left…! Then once she did, Joyce had called and…well, she forgot. The next morning? She still forgot! “...You left it unlocked, so I guessed–” “--So you guessed?” Joyce leaned in close and over just to show Emily her look of feigned disbelief. “You thought because Mommy left your nursery open, you were allowed in there by yourself?” “Y…yeah…?” Suddenly she wasn’t so good at keeping her act together anymore. “Hmm…” Joyce hummed thoughtfully, radiating on Emily’s skin like a lingering panic. “W-we both did some stuff we probably shouldn’t have?” “Sort of, but I think where we differ is you know you’re not supposed to do what you did.” Joyce tapped her shoulder thoughtfully, making the girl flinch. “I…I’m sorry?” “And I’m sorry for giving you the chance to misbehave,” Joyce said solemnly. “So because it’s partially my fault, I’ll let you off easy tonight.” Thank goodness. “Really?” “Uh-huh. So, you’ll be going to bed. Early. After you’re diapered and we have dinner tonight.” “That early?” Emily openly cried. “Joyce! Please!” “Don’t Joyce me! You made your choice, Emily, and now you have to live with the consequences. Would it make you feel any better if I still went and got that ice cream?” “Really?” And suddenly things were right as rain again, until at least the dairy treat ran out later that night. “Yes, but we’re diapering you first before we take the car ride.” That had her pouting. “No pouting, either. Be happy I’m letting you off with just that…” she warned. Ice cream secured, but at what cost? “Here are today’s notes for the next meeting, ma’am,” Sheila handed off a manila envelope, to which Joyce accepted. “Thank you,” Joyce took them, though promptly set them to the side. And just as Sheila was about to leave, “Oh, Sheila? Could you stay for just a second?” Joyce was always good at sounding how she wanted to, but herself like every other person had far less skill at hiding any sort of undertone or ulterior feelings. Needless to say, Sheila could tell something was up, and unfortunately she had a confident feeling for what it was. But she stayed calm anyway. “Yes?” “Have a seat, please,” Joyce smiled, waiting for her secretary to park herself, right in front of her boss. It was quiet for a moment, save for the stare Joyce was giving her employee. Innocent, somewhat, but the hidden messages were far too strong for Sheila not to recognize and bear some kind of pressure. Maybe it was facing her consequences in real time that was suddenly taking the woman off her high, or maybe it was the well-needed reality check that she was about to get. A further word had yet to be spoken, nor a direct reference to just a couple nights prior needed be said for Sheila to already feel a steady stream of oncoming regret. She crossed a line. Big time. A very dangerous line. A line that separated a very private life from what Sheila had been so carefully and selectively allowed to aid and assist in. For just a second, it was quiet enough to hear a pin hit the floor. “Were you able to get what you needed from my house?” And are you ready to tell me what else you did while you were there? “...Yes.” No. “It didn’t take you long, did it?” Which was longer: using my computer or using my stove? “No…” Putting together the salad probably took longer… Joyce rested her hands on her desk, nodding thoughtfully, though not quite hearing what she was expecting. This was an issue. A big issue. A lack of honesty. A lack of loyalty? As far as Joyce knew, it wasn’t even a red flag, necessarily. Sure, she was treating this like an interrogation, but it’s not like her secretary had committed a crime. But it was certainly weird. Was there some kind of misunderstanding? Meanwhile, in Sheila’s mind: She knows. Ms. Summers knows. Did Emily tell her? Tell her everything? Did she see me snooping in her nursery? Did she say all the things I said about her? Crap…crud…shit. While Joyce was devising the best way to tease her employee, Sheila was already formulating a new resume. It wouldn’t be the first time Sheila had cared for Emily, given that Joyce was coerced into letting her take Emily off to bed during that business dinner. For Sheila to do anything like that of her own accord though was…interesting. Harmless? But weird. So with those thoughts in mind, Joyce cracked a grin as she said, “Sheila, I know that–” “--I’m sorry!” It was an immediate, knee-jerk response from the secretary. Her head drooped in just the slightest like her bowing posture could signal any more remorse than just her words could alone. Joyce rested her hand on the desk, looking a bit awkward. “...You’re sorry?” “I’m sorry.” Sheila repeated with much heavier resolve. “I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have. It was wrong, disrespectful and a gross misuse of my privileges…!” Was there actual recourse from this? In what way did it end in just this career burning down? How in the hell could she secure a living wage if she’d be effectively labeled as a snooper and a sneak? Her boss had to have known, otherwise they wouldn’t be having this conversation! “Sh-Sheila…?” Joyce raised her brow, taken aback by the profuse and sudden apology. Sheila was as humble as a person got, but this was Joyce’s first time seeing her apologize like this. Take off Emily’s diaper and put a big girl suit on her, and just maybe the feeling right now would be similar. “I’m not mad… I was just–” “--I have no excuse…! I…I did something I shouldn’t have, but I promise I won’t tell anyone! I’ll honor my NDA, I promise!” Christ, how was she going to explain this to Greg without being able to explain anything at all? Fired for snooping in her boss’ apartment and finding out that all the [REDACTED] she had made was actually for her boss’ girlfriend for her very own [REDACTED]? And because Sheila was so devoted, and Joyce knew that far too well, now the boss was starting to second guess herself. Was there more to this? More than Emily had let on to? More that Sheila had kept from Emily? And with a final hope, Joyce tested the waters. “Sheila…it’s okay if you stayed to have dinner with Emily…” She let the words sit. Permeate. Cure or dispel whatever worries her secretary may have been having. Bring back the calm and collected person that she knew and expected her to be. But a sinking feeling simply kept on plummeting as the look on Sheila’s face did not change. The remorse didn’t fade, not because Joyce couldn’t dispel her worries, but because she had yet to hit the nail on the head, and that was slowly becoming apparent. “Sheila?” “I’m sorry…!” she apologized unyieldingly once again. “I promise, I have not nor will I ever tell anyone!” It was suddenly worrying beyond a scope for what Joyce could perceive or imagine. Now her emotions were getting the better of her. Never once had she ever seen her strongest link so easily frazzled. If it was enough to make Sheila panic then there wasn’t a single object in the world that could withstand what she could not. Yet with quiet hesitation, Joyce pulled out her phone, taking herself to a program and a place she thought she’d been given enough honesty and clarity to stay away from. But apparently not. Strolling down memory lane, she opened up the archived footage from just 48 hours prior and started skimming. Skimming through seeing herself leave for the airport. Skimming through dead silence in the apartment, finding Emily in her footie pajamas that she wasn’t supposed to be in, napping on the couch… Sheila arriving… Sheila heading to the office… Sheila…not heading to the office…. Sheila entering the…the unlocked… Like her eyes had deceived her, Joyce blinked, re-watching the short snippet one last time, like it was some bizarre crossover she could never in a thousand years expect. This wasn’t real, right? Surely the footage had been Photoshopped? Was the lack of audio corrupted? Was that why the video was leading her astray? Quietly, shaken and unsure, Joyce set down her phone. Bewildered and beside herself, arriving at a complete and total blank. Sheila, her most trusted and closest employee of countless years, now before her, tail between her legs and with a look of guilt so heavy and so potent that Joyce wished the skyscraper’s windows so high up could actually open. So many questions. So many. So many problems. So very few solutions. Were there any solutions at all? Suspension? Termination? Terminate Sheila? Sheila? Fired? Joyce’s eyes couldn’t stop wandering, and Sheila’s wouldn’t leave the floor. As Joyce tried to compose herself, Sheila tried to remain as still as possible. She wasn’t curious anymore. She got what she had wanted. Realization. Satisfaction. Discovery and pleasure. All at the cost of flying far too close to the sun. She’d stepped beyond what she was allowed and now it was time to face the immediate consequences. The end of her cushy wage and well-lived career. “I…” The words were hardly coming to the boss, but her thoughts more or less seemed to stay in tact. This needed to be resolved. Now. Immediately. Get their bearings and figure out just what exactly was going to happen from here. Whether this really constituted a wide-scale issue or could somehow be mitigated into something else. She knew about the diapers, but now the nursery, too? She had to know now. What it was all for; what it all meant. But she couldn’t go unpunished, right? She couldn’t just be let off the hook for something so inappropriate…! Joyce closed her mouth for a moment, then opened it once again. “C…Cancel my next meeting.” And possibly cancel the entire day. By the end of her sentence Sheila couldn’t have been moving any faster than her heels would let her. “Bring your laptop back in here,” Joyce added before she could leave. For the first time in Sheila’s working career and personal tenure with Joyce, she was about to receive a disciplinary discussion. A very strange one at that. It would be a very awkward discussion.

41 - Eat your Veggies “Hon?” She called from her vanity, fussing just to make sure that every hair fell in line. Anything less than perfection was sure to leave a bad look on the company. Professionals needed to have standards, after all. A male voice carried over from the other end of the quaint apartment. “Yeah?” A gust of breath left her mouth, sending her last few hairs askew yet again. She knew that tone in his voice. The ‘I’m playing games right now but totally listening, but not actually’ voice. Fine. She stood from the bench, deciding to solve whatever was left in her hair in the car. A brisk walk in heels had her peeking her head in the living room shortly enough. And unsurprisingly the TV was in use; broadcasting screams, explosions and gunshots of a much more brutal world. “Is this one that you can pause?” she asked while she watched, hardly understanding a single thing going on. Video games never were her strong suit. She grew up alongside them with her cousins, sure, but it was the kind of media she coexisted with rather than mingled with. Though, she did remember that one about managing a team of cute little monsters to be kind of interesting… “Nope,” her fiance said without turning his head, swiveling away with his thumbs at the sticks on his controller. “But~!” But? His girlfriend watched him do something, which involved a change of pace in the game. It suddenly looked like they were back at some kind of menu. No more flashes and booms; blood and gore. Finally though she earned his attention. “But I can always quit?” he grinned. “I’m that special to you, huh?” she grinned right back. “Of course you are!” he puffed out his chest all manly-like. Then his head scanned her from head to toe. Not only because he was smitten with herself and her looks, but also because, “Ah, need to go out for work?” “Uh-huh,” she spoke with indifference. “It’s important and Ms. Summers isn’t available to do it herself right now.” “Sheil, can’t it wait until the weekday?” Greg sighed not from selfishness, but the upset of having to see his girlfriend take up her own time on a weekend. “She wouldn’t mind it getting done on a Monday, right?” “Maybe,” almost certainly, she could imagine getting it done on a Monday. “But I have to go to her house directly. It’s something she left on her work computer.” Greg finally rose from the couch, sharing the doorway with her as they touched foreheads. “Okay…” And just from his look alone, Sheila knew what he was thinking. “Stop. Don’t think that. Ms. Summers is good to me, Greg. Good to us.” “I know, I know,” he quietly hushed. “Still doesn’t mean I like seeing you have to do this stuff on a weekend?” “It’s because I want to,” Sheila kissed him. Want to, yes, but certainly a soft ‘need to’ as well. Work undone that was sitting around at such an opportune moment was simply irresistible bait to the woman. Leaving an empty chair halfway pushed out from the table, leaving the curtains only partly closed or partly open on a sunny or rainy day. Letting the dishwasher clean all your utensils when you could just do it three times as fast. Yet Greg wasn’t the fiance for nothing, narrowing her thoughts down immediately. “I think it’s because you think you need to.” Sheila pursed her lips, quiet for a moment. “Maybe.” “Just maybe, huh?” he chuckled. “Whatever, I won’t stop you. And yes, your boss does sound like a good person. Just remember that you matter to me too, you know?” “And you matter just as much to me.” Another kiss. “Can you make plans tonight?” Sheila looked hopeful. “I don’t wanna leave you here without anything to do. And maybe if I finish up early I can come and join you?” Greg thought for a minute. “Actually, Kevin and a few others were planning to meet at a bar a little down the street tonight for drinks? We could join them?” Sheila exhaled with a smile. Good. Boyfriend taken care of. “Good. Go join them. Send me the address too. I’ll see if I can make it once I’m done?” “Sounds like a plan!” WOOF! Startled, Sheila looked around in a slight panic, face to face with a panting tongue lazily hanging out of their third roommate’s face. Wagging tail and all. Crouching down, Sheila frowned at the dog. “Look at you!” her voice fell into coos and chuckles. “Woosa cutie scaring me like that? Who? Who?” she ran her hands through his golden fur, taking in all his furry softness before it was time to go. “Baxter should be fine for the night,” Greg took to stroking the dog as well. “Won’t be long.” “I hope not?” Sheila laughed, “unless the plan was to get blackout drunk and make it an overnight stay at the bar?” Baxter barked again. “Shhh!” Sheila playfully stuck a finger up. “Don’t talk like that!” she accused her boyfriend. “He understands more than you think?” Defensively, his hands were raised. “I didn’t say anything! That was you!” Maybe, but Sheila dodged the blame, standing back up. “Okay, sounds like we’ve got a plan?” “That we do!” WOOF! Collectively this time the couple shushed him. It hardly did a thing to damper the pep in his step and the wag in his tail. “Oh–” a thought struck Greg and the smile left his face. “Uhm, one other thing.” A brow was raised. “Yes…?” “You…might be hearing from my mom again tomorrow.” “What?” Sheila gasped tiredly and Greg tried not to flinch. “Again? We just talked last week though?” “I know, I know…” he sighed. “She’s just restless, babe. I promise, it’ll stop soon.” “I hope so…” Sheila frowned. She knew it, and Greg knew. They were both okay with it and preferred it. But even so, Sheila still said it aloud. “I don’t want a baby, Greg. I like what we have,” she brushed her hand against their dog. “This is enough.” “And I feel the same way?” Greg spoke like his conviction had been called into question. “My mom wants to be a grandmother, that’s all.” Calling that ‘just it’ was definitely a bit of an underestimation. Parents trying to append “grand” to the title were a scarily driven bunch. Greg’s mom included. Too much hustle and bustle. Not a fan of the high-maintenance with all the non-verbalness. Maybe somedays Ms. Summers was a bit nonverbal herself with her moods, but maybe Sheila accepted it because it was already her job. And, she did like Ms. Summers. Who could like a baby? Maybe if she could skip to the speaking-and-listening phase… There wasn’t a single family gathering or event nowadays that didn’t involve bringing the talk of having kids up. Subtle nods or direct questioning, depending on how much she had to drink that evening. “Maybe we shouldn’t get married,” Sheila openly mused, “just so we can keep using that as an excuse?” “Maybe it would be,” Greg chuckled, “but I think I can take a little harassment from my mom if it means we get to share the same last name?” They touched hands. “Okay, fine,” she grinned from ear to ear. “I think I can too. But anyway, wanna come see me off?” Greg followed her to the door. “Though, it is a little funny, you know?” “What’s funny?” Sheila asked as she slipped on her jacket. “I mean, you work as a secretary now, and as a kid, didn’t you do a lot of looking after your cousins? You dote on Baxter a lot?” “Yeah?” And? “Well, Sheil,” Greg choked down a laugh. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re kind of a natural-born babysitter at heart?” While it was intended to be a ‘gotcha’ kind of moment, Sheila stuck her finger high with a eureka. “Ah! See?” She came in for one last kiss. “Babysitter.” Not a mommy. And with that, she departed for the Summers’ household. “Have…have you had your dinner yet?” Sheila asked out on a limb so strandily and shaky from the original tree of reason; the entire basis for why she was even here. Her heart was beating nervously, questioning her words that came off the cuff as soon as they came to mind. It was so wholly uncharacteristic of her, and yet it was a part that she simply did not want to ignore. “Dinner…?” For once they were on the same wavelength, which was wondering for what reason Sheila was asking something like that. She said it. She actually said it. I just asked that…I just asked my boss’ girlfriend that… “...Right…” Sheila confirmed, though had absolutely zero idea on how to follow up with it. Dinner? Wasn’t Sheila here for files? Emily wanted to express confusion, yet she remained awkward, lest it was something so four-dimensionally obvious that she was somehow the clueless one. So she opted for cautious honesty. “Uhh…no…” Her hand wandered to the cuff of her sagging hood. “Joyce usually cooks, and…I was sleeping before you got here…” She caught her. Red-handed. Sheila had made a gamble and she’d been validated. Justified. Her foot was halfway in the door and the urge to pry it wide open took the momentum. “Lunch? You had lunch, right?” Emily blinked. Lunch too? A slight feeling of unease was sprouting in her stomach. Was this second grade already again so soon? “...I wasn’t all that hungry…?” And why? Why was she answering so honestly? Sheila did Joyce things, not Emily things! She was mere seconds from leaving, and yet the whole situation hit a stunning reverse when an unbroken chain of eye-contact ensued. In that same moment, Emily silently watched Sheila step away from the door. Back inside. “And were you planning on making something?” No? “Yes…?” Was this really her business? “Like what?” Sheila asked. Momentum. A groove. Slowly, carefully, the rhythm was being found. “...” Emily told herself that was going to make herself something, though the same was said right around lunch time as well… She quietly looked over at the entrance to the kitchen, like tonight’s meal had been scribed on a piece of paper for her. What did they even have for food? To make actual food? It’d been so long since Emily made herself anything. As much as a deli meat sandwich maybe, but that’s when Joyce was working. Either that or reheating leftovers. “Emily?” Sheila called. Confidently. Expectantly. “I…a…a sandwich. I’m not that hungry, so…” “You’re not that hungry?” Sheila repeated, lacing her words with a feigned surprise, “Even when you didn’t have lunch?” There was no surprise, just doubt. And in trying to pretend like her face wasn’t feeling warm, Emily’s feet were unconsciously starting to fidget. The cornered girl resorted to her best, strongest and most effective tactic. An unbeatable one, at that. “...I…I don’t know…” Sheila quietly nodded. I won’t be going to the bar tonight. “Can I take a look?” Sheila asked, but her heels were already off and she was stepping back onto the hardwood floor. She was already midway to the kitchen before Emily could stammer something back. “W-wait! I…really, Sheila I’m fine! So…!” What did they even keep in the fridge? Suddenly it was a blur. She looked inside it every day. Hell, she looked in it before her afternoon nap! But the moment she was under a magnifying glass and was dealing with a person she was already wary of, caught in an embarrassing outfit, no less, she could hardly even remember if they kept ice cubes in the freezer. All she knew of right then was what they didn’t have. No ice cream. Bleh. Joyce liked to kid, but she also liked to follow up on her rules. Stupid rules. They rarely froze their meat; Joyce got it fresh when she was ready for it. They had vegetables, but that was it. She didn’t mind stuff like that– Correction, she did mind. A particular prejudice for beets, specifically, but that was a totally separate issue. Back to the thought at hand; what could you do with vegetables alone? A bottle of wine that Joyce liked was in there too? That hardly made for a dinner, though… And as much as Emily wanted to ask why her girlfriend’s secretary was currently snooping through their fridge, she was simply too busy bunching up her footie pajamas trying to muster the courage that could let her actually ask those things. Question the person that Joyce trusted so vehemently. Trusted enough to be their personal diaper procurer. The secretary went straight for the fridge once her feet crossed the threshold. She stopped only for a moment to admire the page torn out of a coloring book. A small smile escaped her once she saw that. Cute. Emily absolutely did this. Sheila’s eyes scanned up and down the tidy and clean interior, looking over the assortment of things to work with. No meat. Vegetables. Wine? Sheila could feel Emily’s presence behind her and the memories of her at a particular hotel one particular night. Definitely no drinks tonight. The fridge was closed and Sheila moved on to the cabinets. “Sh…Sheila? I…I really appreciate it, but I’m all set…” “Didn’t you say Joyce normally cooked for you?” The committed woman asked with her back to the rest of the room. “It’s no trouble, really. I can cook too?” And Emily couldn’t? Well…maybe some questions were better left unanswered. She “cooked” sandwiches confidently. Maybe she wasn’t a cook. An assembler at best. But that wasn’t Sheila’s business, and neither was Emily’s nursery. And yet, while Emily disillusioned herself into thinking there was still a thin veil protecting her and Joyce’s darkest secret, Sheila was busy trying to snip at the last few threads still spacing Emily from the diapers. Busy with that and formulating a dinner. To Sheila, it simply wasn’t her boss’ house anymore. It wasn’t some silly, boring job to go run after some digital files. The clock had been wound back to a high school Friday night. Her aunt and uncle were on date night and her sweet baby cousins had become her responsibility for the night. Pasta…? Sheila held the box of carbs in her hands, contemplating. Spaghetti needed a sauce… “Emily, does Joyce…?” Then she stopped. Would Emily know? “Sorry? What was that?” All Sheila did was smile. “Sorry, nevermind!” One more cupboard later and there was in fact a can of sauce. The silly and ignorant Emily told herself that Sheila was just doing prep to set the girl up for the rest of the night. You know, what a secretary would do. Set up meetings, set up schedules and appointments. Set up the beginnings of dinner… But one pot of heating water later and Emily was having serious doubts. Things had clearly gone beyond what should and should not have been condoned, yet only after the damage had been done was Emily finally finding the will to speak and confront. “Sheila…?” On a dime Sheila’s head was turned. “What’s wrong?” What wrong, hon? Damn! She nearly just said that? Honey? Sweetie…? No, she probably shouldn’t say that, she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t… Was this water boiling already? It was starting to feel a little hot… Emily interrupted the woman’s thoughts. “You don’t have to make me anything… I appreciate it, but I’m all set…really.” And yet Sheila casually shrugged, searching for a can opener. Crap. Sheila had already sunk her fangs into this and her hold was getting stronger by the second. Every moment of uninterrupted authority was another ounce added to a crushing case of justification. Poor Emily simply didn’t have the strength to fight this woman off from her own convictions and conclusions. With a utensil resting in her hand, Sheila looked at the girl from across the kitchen. “I’m here, Emily, I might as well? Besides, you’d get your PJ’s dirty if you tried cooking like that…” And her comment made Emily’s eyes wander down. But finally, something to work with! The moment she opened herself up for an attack, Emily’s heart skipped a beat. The pot calling the kettle black, as they say? It was an off-moment to be feeling it, but maybe a piece of Joyce’s wit had finally rubbed off onto her…! With an inkling of inexplicable trepidation, one adult said to the other, “But…you’re dressed too?” Sheila paused and Emily did her best not to smile. Easy! Victory! Sheila’s empire of logic was failing and everything she assumed and insisted on was now but a fallacy, all because the silly secretary had made the critical error of wearing a formal office jacket to a home visit. She wouldn’t dare risking sauce on her work attire! Why Emily felt an almost competitive nature, or the unspoken idea that she somehow needed to “earn” her freedom or independence from this woman was absolutely beyond her. And yet, if either of them could read each other’s minds, they’d understand quite quickly just how many unspoken assumptions and vulnerable feelings were influencing the other. And while the corners of Emily’s mouth were ready to jump with glee, two cinderblocks of blind ignorance came crashing down on them. “Thank you for reminding me,” Sheila chuckled, making a show of her appreciative smile. Off came the jacket that Emily foolishly thought to be the linchpin that’d do her in, dressing down to just her sweater that certainly could afford a battle scar or two from a war on tomato-saucy terror. She disrobed just as easily as Emily could have changed into something else. Something that Sheila couldn’t have just used the same exact reasoning against. Just like that, the self-invited woman was back to taking charge. Clueless now with what to do, Emily quickly disappeared from the room, phone slipping out of her pajama pocket. Joyce…pick up! “So if you’re not comfortable with it,” Carol steered them up a short set of brick-laid stairs, “There’s nothing wrong with using a fake first name or anything like that, you know?” “There isn’t?” Joyce gave her friend a weird look. “I can’t say I’ve ever gone under an alias or anything before,” she chuckled. Well, maybe a retired chairman on paper, once or twice… Carol shrugged. “I don’t bother with it anymore, but I was a little cautious at first. This sphere of business is a bit more…’underground,’ I guess. You don’t hear much about it publicly for a reason. Just want to be mindful of…you know,” Carol looked her up and down, like Joyce’s fortune was stored in her looks. “Thank you for warning me,” Joyce smiled, reaching the front of the restaurant. It did look busy inside, yet a quite obvious sign still called it out as reserved. This many people came for something like this? But now that they were here and Joyce knew it was real, she was feeling something like the kind of nerves Emily got whenever she was meeting new people. “And…also,” she stole another glance at the people inside. “Should I…erm, prepare myself for anything?” “Pre…pare?” Carol didn’t share the same thought, hence her confusion. Darn. Did she really have to say it? “Like…stuff? People showing things…? Or…wearing stuff?” Stuff that wasn’t normal clothes? Carol’s eyes widened. “Oh!” she laughed aloud, patting Joyce’s just slightly flustered shoulder. “No! No! Not at all, I promise! This is strictly about networking. Nothing like that is allowed here. Definitely not.” More than anything, it was a relief to hear. By now, it was safe to say Joyce was hardly a stranger to the ideas of diapers, bottles, cribs, and playpens. Rather, a beneficiary, even, as long as it somehow involved Emily. That all being said, Joyce in her own estranged bubble that she trapped Emily in with her somehow had virtually no understanding or concept of other kinks or “niche” interests. While it could be argued she was hypocritical or ignorant to have no interest or hold reservations for anything else, that’s simply how it was. But maybe that could stand to change. Inside the restaurant they finally went, shifting from crickets playing under the night sky and to a bustling crowd of appetizers and conversations. Joyce’s eyes immediately wandered to spot the crowd. Size it up. See who she was dealing with. It was a formal kind of event, but not overly formal. Casual, just maybe. Needless to say, her first thought was probably if she brought Emily. Dress her in something that had stripes or a little bit of color. Stripes played up the mood and color magnified her eyes. Anything to bring out a little something in her. “Joyce?” Carol tugged on her arm, ending the daydream. She discreetly pointed nearby. “We need to go sign in.” “Oh, right!” Joyce apologetically chuckled. “Sorry! Just people-watching.” “Sizing everybody up?” Carol asked as they walked up to a receptionist podium. But Joyce didn’t get a chance to answer before a new conversation began. “Hi there!” The man behind the desk gave a small wave before picking up a weighty pen. “Who am I signing in for?” “Carol Baker?” Carol, clearly not adverse to the idea of using her own name, offered. “And this is my plus-one.” Carol then raised her brows, leaning in at the entrepreneur with a grin. “Her name is…?” “Joyce,” Joyce decided, bold and brave enough to wear her wallet on her sleeve rather than hide away. Besides, if there was any merit to this and something did actually go somewhere, moving on from a fake name was certainly an awkward foot to start on. “Last name?” he then asked, and Joyce hesitated. “‘S’,” Carol jumped right in, finishing for her. Apparently it was of no issue, because moments later they both had their own name cards. “Thanks for that…” Joyce muttered, adjusting how the card looked on herself as she walked. “Of course!” Carol chuckled, taking the lead back to the main area. Though, quite not so tactfully she added, “Oh! But, maybe as a thanks, say if…I don’t know…you find something that might be worth investing in?” Dollar signs flashed in her eyes. “Don’t forget about who brought ya here?” Cute. Not quite Emily cute, but cute. Joyce smiled regardless. “Yes, I will most certainly remember…” she chuckled. “So…what’s the best way to do this?” “Well first,” Carol paused as she finally started to survey the crowd herself, “Ah! Let’s go meet him!” Him? After navigating an aisle carved by the backs of people standing in circles and chatty cliques that were forming, Carol tapped on the back of a broad-shouldered individual. Just as he turned, the first person he saw was Joyce, then noticed Carol just a few inches below. “Oh! Carol!” “Logan!” The pair hugged just briefly before separating. “Ah– One second?” he apologized, turning back to his group. “Sorry, I’ll be back later to discuss! I just need to catch up with someone.” Waving as he left, Joyce, Carol and now Logan in accompaniment found an empty booth by the side. “First, this is my friend Joyce,” Carol warmly introduced and Joyce just smiled. “She’s not new to business, but as far as things like what goes on here, that’s a bit different.” Logan nodded as he listened, scratching his black void of close-shaven beard for just a moment. “Uh-huh? Well, first,” Logan stretched his hand across the table, giving Joyce a firm, yet reasonable shake. “Joyce, thank you so much for coming. I know that it can sometimes be a little strange or intimidating attending stuff like this. So first and foremost I want to assure you: it is just business. All talk, nothing else.” “Don’t worry,” Carol cut in, “I made sure to tell her that.” Another trained laugh left Joyce’s mouth, holding a hand to her mouth. “Jeez, you’re making me sound like I’m just in it for the money…!” And everyone laughed, but then an internal panic started to rise. Wait, what if they were just in it for the money…? Did that mean she just outed herself as someone supposedly in it for the kinks, too?! “I–” she stammered, “I mean, I guess I’d be lying if I said that investing wasn’t my main interest…” Logan held out a hand, as if to halt her words of self-doubt. “No, no, really, I understand. Carol’s the same way.” “I am,” Carol gingerly included. “I just don’t want you or anyone new to things like these feeling nervous. Everyone has their reasons for associating with this, just like with anything else. Even if you were here just for the potential profits, which hey– money is money, I completely understand. That being said, any kind of capital to help business or services related to what these circles have an interest in is always welcome.” In other words, not a single investor had to actually like the kink they were helping pay for. Profit was profit and nothing else had to come of it. A truly blind investment, but by no means was it unheard of. After all, Joyce could hardly imagine that every shareholder of a dying movie theater chain believed in the actual product just as much as their primary hope of just turning a personal, baseless and speculative profit. “Well, thank you for assuring me,” Joyce nodded appreciatively, trying not to let her eyes wander. All this red-tape talk was starting to make her admittedly curious. “So…how do I know who…uhm…has an idea?” As far as she could tell, Joyce saw no difference between either the givers or receivers. Her scenes that were few and far between nowadays were the kinds that rented out properties and had designated stands and displays. All she could see here were handshakes and business cards. “I was hoping there’d be some kind of system like that by now…” Carol passively added, implying this apparently wasn’t an unpopular opinion. Logan could only half-grin apologetically. “Okay, I think you might be in the same boat as Carol, here. But, hopefully you might be a bit more receptive than her, Joyce?” “Bold of you to talk about me like I’m not sitting right here?” she frowned at him. Joyce watched with a tinge of amusement. Logan’s face didn’t have much to offer in the give-a-fudge department. “Sorry, Carol! You started it!” “Well,” Carol was scooting her way to the edge of the booth, “I suppose I shall make it so. Joyce, I’m going to get a drink and start meandering, alright? If you spot me, feel free to be my shadow!” “Will do!” Joyce saw her off, now just with Logan. “If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you two meet?” Logan watched his friend disappear before sitting up straight again. “Oh, uhm…through her husband, actually. Nothing big!” Yes, through her husband, which was through their daughter, which was through Emily’s misadventure at the zoo… Not complicated in even the slightest. “Awesome, that’s, er, great,” he suddenly laughed, and Joyce did too. Anything more than that would’ve been forcing the man to make up comments and lies that had no basis about her. Carol was a friend, sure, but Logan’s extent didn’t go a whole lot farther than that. “So…I’m just supposed to socialize?” Joyce tried summarizing, finding the job easy enough, albeit a little aimless. Taking in a breath and finally exhaling with an admission, “Yeah…okay, I know, I get it. First-timers can find it a little hard talking to people, especially about kink stuff.” Kink. The first time Joyce heard that word this entire night. Suddenly it felt real. Suddenly it was more than just indirect references and a nondescript socializing dinner. The dynamics were astronomically different from the norm now. She wasn’t speculating just businesses, but kinks. Weird, wacky and odd kinks. Things people did for sexual pleasure and she was throwing money at it? “Nervous?” Logan smirked, kind enough to get a read of the booth. Joyce’s hands were together, stroking her knuckles. It wasn’t the best look, but without having her girlfriend around and not needing to be unwaveringly brave, her face slumped. “Is it that obvious?” “Eh, a little? Getting through the front door is pretty impressive though.” “How about flying across the country?” “No kidding?” “Yep. Carol and I are from the same state.” “Oh, well, I guess when you put it that way it should’ve been obvious!” he laughed. “But actually, hey?” Logan stood from the booth waiting by the table on his feet. “Since you’ve been so graciously abandoned by your friend, and I have to be a good host, why don’t I get you started with some people?” Joyce nodded, though her tinge of trepidation she forgot to leave with Emily was tingling. “With other investors? Or…” “So another thing,” Logan smiled over the forgotten talking point, “Part of why we don’t have any visual labels is because as much as there are investors and idea-havers here, my hope is to really push forward a collaborative style of relationship.” “Isn’t paying someone to make them more money collaboration enough already?” she chuckled. “Yes, very true. But, stuff like this is usually at least a…” He paused for something eloquent. “-- an inherent passion to the originator? People on some level do care about what they want to produce or do here, Joyce. After all, a passionate project tends to pay!” That it did, and thinking on a cute diaper bum she got to fondle last night, the return on investment didn’t always have to be in cash… “Okay, sure. You win,” Joyce sighed giddily with some wind beneath her sails. “Since Carol ditched me, I think I’ll take you up on introducing me to someone?” And with an exaggerated bow, Logan signaled for her to follow. “It would be my utmost pleasure!” “Emily! It’s ready!” A distant voice called and Emily shuddered from the floor of her room. Same place she was when it was time for the dentist. She was laying against Joyce’s side, fuzzy feet against the bottom of their tall window while she tried to get some kind of response from her girlfriend. Absolutely nothing. What gives? Busy, probably, but that was no excuse for going quiet…! Emily huffed, looking at the doorway. If she was the one not responding, it’d end probably in a legitimate spanking, now that Joyce was apparently into that. But also apparently Emily couldn’t not be into spankings. Well, she could, but that’d probably only make Joyce like it more. Mommies like effective discipline. And right now Joyce was above every law in the universe. The one that included keeping communications. “Emily?” Sheila called again, whisked away by her own mood of giddy fun. Greg had long since been texted that she’d be running late. After all, her work “still needed to be taken care of.” A plate of dinner was awaiting her boss’ special someone and the mood couldn’t have felt better despite her flurry of emotions. Of course Sheila still had her reservations; about what she was doing. And yet, with each little reveal or small mention and mishap at work, they were all little droplets into a big bucket of pent-up frustration. Frustration she didn’t even know she had until tonight. Until she caught little miss Summers in the cutest pajamas she’d ever seen. “C…Coming…!” A faint voice reached her from the other end of the apartment. What was keeping her? Sheila brushed the spoon of a clean ladle resting in her hand. After a few padded shuffles Emily emerged, for some reason half-expecting her highchair to magically be there. Thank goodness it wasn’t, otherwise she’d be having hospital food for the night after her heart attack. It wasn’t Joyce there to receive her, but a close branch that had quite the similar arsenal. The way she stood. The way she smiled. Down to the very way she even had the chair already pulled out for her… Everything now seemed to put the girl on high alert. What’s worse, Emily felt the need to scrutinize anywhere for potentially a baby bottle or a bib. But she knew she was being silly… Sheila may know about the diapers, but that was it. She likely assumed Emily wasn’t wearing them, and she definitely didn’t know about the nursery. She was safe. Protected. Sheila didn’t know. She knew nothing. Nothing but beets. Her hand on the top of the chair held her back the moment she saw it. Staring long and hard at the plate of green spinach leaves, slices of tomato, onion and feta, there and all throughout were monsters from the purple, soily deep all throughout. “Something wrong?” Sheila asked, standing right now to her. She was looking down at her handiwork now. Did it look bad, or something? Putting on her bravest look, Emily sunk into the chair. “N…no…No. It’s nothing…” Despite never having asked for it, Emily smiled somewhat appreciatively. “Thank you for dinner?” The pasta did look good, and had the salad been one specific ingredient short, it would have gone from putrid to perfect. It was gratitude and that’s all Sheila wanted. She smiled cheerily before she walked away. “Of course! You’re very welcome.” It was one trip to the stove and counter later before Sheila was sitting a chair’s width away from her at the table. “Do you mind if I eat with you? I was going to see my fiance after I left, my boyfriend, but he got a little wrapped up in something. I hope you don’t mind me imposing and all like this…” I know what fiance means… “No, that’s fine. Sorry you’re stuck with me and not Joyce?” After all, they actually had a dynamic. Sheila and Emily? There was something, but it certainly wasn’t business. Sheila waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Joyce and I…well,” her eyes wandered above for a second, “She’s my boss, so I don’t like stuff like that so much. Or…I guess it makes me feel a little uncomfortable.” “Keep your distance?” Emily ate a forkful of pasta. She was going to eat a forkful, then Sheila piped up. “Ah-ah! Emily? Uhm, maybe you’d want to take off the pajamas first?” Just as she was starting to forget, her substitute-Joyce had reminded her. “Oh…” And embarrassingly, Emily set her fork down. Standing back up she hovered to the edge of the kitchen. “S-sorry…let me go change real quick…” “Sorry I didn’t think to remind you,” Sheila included apologetically. She’d have to be better about that next time. Next time? A few minutes later Emily had returned in the best adult-looking pants and shirt she could find. Sheila quietly observed with an inexplicable feeling of disappointment, but left it at that. It was almost as if they were equals now. And thankfully for Emily she was feeling some confidence now, having shed her skin and emerged as a blossoming, super-mature butterfly. “Sorry about that… So you were saying? You prefer keeping it work-related around Joyce?” “Uh-huh,” Sheila nodded, taking a bite. “It might sound weird, but I think I just work better when I know what I’m fully dealing with. I know it might be unusual, but I like clearly defined roles?” Ew. Weird. Did Sheila put deja vu in the sauce? But more importantly, no wonder Sheila was held in high regard. She was just like Joyce. “No, I get that,” Emily mumbled partway through a mouthful of food. After swallowing, “So like, it’s tough to be friends with your boss!” “Exactly!” Sheila immediately lit up. “That’s exactly it. I like Joyce and I think she’s a very capable person, and that’s why I want to do whatever I can to help her.” She took a second to quietly observe Emily who glanced down at her food. Helping her boss in any way. Even if it meant holding down the fort at home. “Well, I guess just from when we’ve talked, Joyce does have a lot of nice things to say about you,” Emily added, and tactfully retracted all the sensitive backdoor-bits. “That makes me happy to hear,” Sheila smiled appreciatively. Maybe she really was appreciated if the boss was bragging to her dau– Girlfriend. Sheila’s smile didn’t falter as the mental struggle ensued. The conversation was sobering, enough to help Emily forget whatever weird funk she was feeling since Sheila got here. Enough to make her curious. “Oh!” An eager feeling suddenly hit her. Her leg excitedly swung under the table. “So what’s Joyce like at work?” A very good question indeed. Something she could probably never get straight from the source’s mouth. A working Joyce to Emily was like talking about a unicorn. By big mama’s doctrine, a Joyce away from home simply did not exist. All she got to know was the motherly and girlfriendy one. “At work?” Like always? Sheila pondered, only just remembering how intimate her boss had been with Emily that one night. “Well… She’s definitely passionate about her work. I’ve had a few late nights just trying to get her to leave her office.” A surprised giggle erupted across the table. “What? Really?” Joyce choosing to stay late? Impossible! “That was a little while back though,” Sheila lightly chuckled. A bit before Emily, most likely. “People at the company have a lot of respect for her,” she continued. “Though…” What were the best words to use… The most appropriate ones to use in front of her boss’ number one confidant. “Joyce can be very…strong-willed?” “Right!?” Emily damn well near slapped the table in excitement. A mutual understanding! Sheila looked slightly taken aback, hence Emily quickly simmering herself down. “S-sorry…!” she couldn’t help but giggle. “I just… That’s exactly how Joyce is when she’s home!” Maybe work and home with her were one and the same? Immediately her mind was racing to share an example. And oh so many to choose from! Like…oh! That one time Joyce supervised her the whole time while they cooked? Or…ah! The other times when she forces her to wait in the bathroom until she’s done drying off? Or maybe when she’s fidgeting on the changing table! No scary movies without a diaper on? Well, Emily’s frantic mind paused for that one. Not quite a rule yet. The Supreme Joyce was probably still deliberating on whether that one was constitutional or not. Not quite ratified yet, but Emily had a hopeful hunch. Aside from that one though, so many examples! So…so many…and she couldn’t share any at all… Not one. Sheila raised her brows, waiting for more to follow, but by the look on her face, clearly there was more she did not want to tell. Throwing her a bone, Sheila said, “So you wanted to know what else, right? Mmm… Well, hmm… If I share this, do you promise not to tell her?” Emily blinked. A secret? A secret about Joyce? If it weren’t for the food in her mouth Emily would have been smiling from ear to ear. Forget everything she held against Sheila; this woman was pure gold! Vigorously she nodded. Sheila pursed her lips, choking down an elated feeling just to see the girl so giddy. If only she had the authority to wipe that small smudge of sauce on her mouth…! “Alright… Well, recently, Joyce was having a bit of a…bad day.” The one audience member gasped aloud. “Like she was angry?” Joyce? Angry? She could be slightly cranky or moody, but that was the worst Emily ever got to see! After a momentary thought and a calculated admission, Sheila nodded, “Yes, I guess you could say she was. But, maybe more like upset? Anyway– I usually take down notes for her in meetings that she has to go to. There was a presenter for a product revision and Joyce was being…uncooperative.” It was as clear as day just how many eggshells Sheila was walking on, trained to be obedient even when her boss wasn’t actively around. Yet despite her subtle choice of words and active filtering, Emily could see through all of it and was eating it up so eagerly. As eager as she was to ignore her beet-ridden salad. “And I…” Sheila cracked a sudden grin, trying to hide it with her hand and fork, “I probably shouldn’t, but I guess it was a little funny…” “What? What was?” Emily pestered with a baited breath. “The presenter…Joyce sort of…snapped at him.” “No way!” Emily laughed at the poor unknown employee’s expense, too busy envisioning Joyce in such a hostile manner. The humor only came because it sounded so unlike her and so very much all the same. Maybe the joy though came from getting to hear about Joyce’s wrath and not being on the receiving end of it for once. Luckily for Emily, she wasn’t the one caught lying this time…! And what was never considered in the girl’s fanatical mind was the world of difference that laid in consequences. Joe Schmoe was risking his entire career getting in Joyce’s way. Emily was in danger of thirty minutes with her nose facing the corner. “Sometimes Joyce needs a little bit of talking too…” Sheila quietly laughed. “But ninety-five percent of the time, she’s probably one of the best people you could imagine working with.” “That’s good though,” Emily smiled, stowing away her devilish grin. Oh how much fun it would be to taunt Joyce with all of this. Barring what she was explicitly ordered not to share, of course…! “And also,” Sheila pointed with her fork, “Is something wrong with the salad?” “Hm?” Emily smiled innocently, daring not to look where she pointed. Her plate of pasta was near-finished, and yet her splendid garden of greens right beside it hadn’t been harvested one bit. “Your salad? You haven’t touched it…?” Finally Emily did acknowledge it, dancing her fork around precariously. Carefully. Deliberately. Right until she had just the right serving. Just the right stuff with none of the poison sitting on her plate… Success! Emily popped a forkful of spinach, tomato, feta and onion into her mouth. It was pretty good actually. She smiled, almost forgetting her manners and flashing an empty mouth. “Nothing’s wrong? I just…like eating stuff in order? Kinda weird, but I guess that’s just what I do…?” Good lie, Emily! Actually! “Oh, alright. Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t make that weird?” She hoped she hadn’t, as a fully-stocked adult nursery was still a long ways away from calling anything before that weird. Emily’s head was casually swinging each way. “Not at all!” And just to try and prove it, Emily took another filtered bite from her salad. “So?” her eyes lit up again, “Can you tell me any more stories about Joyce? I wanna know more!” It was another fuzzy tickle in Sheila’s brain, and maybe her heart, but she laughed in tune with the pleasant feeling. “Another one? Okay…let me think…” “Todd, right?” Joyce’s rehearsed smile came out to play, “Thank you for taking a second to chat with me! I’m wishing you the best!” Wishing him the best? For a store that specializes in selling whips and collars? Joyce didn’t get it, but she was coming to respect it. The pair parted ways, each drifting into their own pool of the crowd. Each conversation was enlightening, to say the least. Cages meant for chastity, leatherworks, latex fashion, “rent-a-puppy,” which was most certainly not a puppy, and the like. Ball gag designs like they were fashion statements and phone cases, platform heels so high with stiletto heels so sharp– tall enough to actually make Emily look like a big girl. It was nothing Joyce could have ever imagined as legitimate ideas, and yet she was astonished to see them as plausible, given context and explanation from the “idea-havers,” as Logan put it. It was all with a grain of salt, considering the whole point was to sell yourself and your project, but the bias was lessened if it meant Joyce was actually seeing it herself. Bizarre, sure, but there really was a market for all of this. Markets that weren’t quite speaking to Joyce. She mixed and she mingled, learning quite a bit about the other side of life and what went on behind the public door. Fascinating, yes, but personally interested? Not as much. None of it clicked. None of it had her jumping for joy, pouring out the cash or personally wanting to see any of it come to fruition. She wished them all the best, certainly, but she was indifferent to being a part of any of it. She was a bad liar, saying that it was all about the money. It was, but that in itself was just a pretense. A pretense for what she didn’t even know herself. Something. Something that spoke to her. Her emotions. Without skipping around in figures of speech, Joyce was made of money. She was set for life, and by extension so too was Emily. The only stake she had in a race like this was personal interest. An interest that wasn’t being pegged quite yet. And maybe not at all. And in her thoughts she accidentally touched shoulders with another person. After bumping the bronze shoulder, Joyce apologized on reflex. “Sorry about that! I’m sorry– I’m barely looking where I’m going!” “No-no! Stop!” the stranger laughed back with her black headful of curls bobbing with her chuckle. “Gosh, I’ve gone so many times around this place already, I should have some better awareness!” They both laughed, but they didn’t move on. “I think I may have seen your face around here a few times?” the young woman scrutinized with a playful eye, then looked at her nametag, “Ah! Joyce! Joyce S!” “The one and only,” Joyce smirked, then looked directly across at hers. “Isabelle…Barros?” “So nice to meet you!” Isabelle stuck her hand out and Joyce returned the gesture. “I don’t want to sound too excited, but I really was hoping to get a chance to speak with you?” “Who? Me?” “No,” she commented, pointing her finger somewhere random. “The other Joyce! Yes, you!” Isabelle, clearly in her stride without a drink in her system and simply pure lovability and energy laughed. “You’re not busy, are you? Can I take up some of your time?” Clearly she had no other takers, especially when Joyce was the one approaching people all night. Carol was probably still busy networking as well. Likely laying the groundwork for a small fortune. “Sure?” Joyce shrugged, allowing herself to be led by the shoulder. Not often someone as forward and as tall as her would do that. The best anyone could do to get her to follow was a padded tush leading her by the hand. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind sitting?” Isabelle apologized, wiping her forehead with a slightly exaggerated sigh. “It feels like I’ve been running in circles all night.” “Oh yeah? Trying to find investors?” And Joyce with her subtle guess figured that she was being pegged as another “customer” right then. “Did I give myself away so soon?” She smirked, then chuckled. She seemed unapologetic, but it wasn’t a turnoff. “But yes,” she admitted with a sigh, yet still looking just as lively as she might have had she not been on an investor’s losing streak all night. “Has anyone brought anything up yet that’s interesting to you?” A sigh of pausing to think weighed over Joyce’s mind. “Well…I guess the one about robotic tails that…uhm…go in the back was interesting…?” Joyce did her best to explain in censored terms, but the look on her face was obvious and Isabelle was already laughing. “So it’s not your cup of tea, I take it? That’s alright. The way Logan puts it, if you’ve met him: it wouldn’t be quite the passion if everyone had such an interest in it?” Already trying to bleach her imagination with other thoughts, Joyce nodded with a chuckle. Now she was about to get it dirty all over again, most likely. “Okay, you have the floor,” or the table, “what are you here to promote?” Isabelle reared her head back with playful offense. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of villain!” “Sorry, sorry,” Joyce chuckled, almost genuinely, “I just don’t want you to have to take up any more time than you need to?” A curious tilt came from the curly-haired head. “Oh? You say that like you already know what I’m going to talk about?” Joyce shrugged, feeling her prospects of the night already dwindling. “True, I don’t, but… Well, nothing I guess has quite piqued my interest here just yet.” “Not even if I wanted to show you my tail?” The comment was brazen and bold, and not but a second later Joyce was blushing uncomfortably. Isabelle was all pearly whites and laughter then. “O-Okay…” Joyce stammered, looking somewhat professional again. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions… So what do you have?” “Não-não!” she tutted with energy, stalling precisely because she seemed so in the moment, trying to savor every bit of it. “I’m not as heartless as you might think I am! Tell me first! Why are you here tonight?” “Why am I here?” Since when did a potential investor have to give their life story? But she didn’t object. “I…came because a friend invited me.” “So you came because you were only invited?” “No…well, yes, sort of.” Isabelle nodded, but her curious and discerning look just wouldn’t leave. “So you came to something like this just for a friend?” “...Yes?” She expected it to end at that. However, “I don’t believe you.” “Sorry?” Didn’t believe her? For coming just for a friend? “You have a look, Joyce?” A look? Didn’t everyone have a look? After all, people needed faces, and faces did looking all the time? “I…” and yet she knew exactly what the woman meant. “I don’t know what you mean…?” “That!” she pointed with a noise of joy and Joyce shuffled uncomfortably. “That look! The look when you’re hiding something!” “I don’t have anything to hide…” “You’re right, you don’t? So why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” Was this therapy or a business proposal? Had it been any other person she’d be walking away right now. But she was sitting. Damn, Isabelle was crafty. But in reality, Joyce didn’t know why she was still sitting there. Maybe not to cause a scene? “I’m here to invest…” “Invest in what, though? Not animal tails?” “Yes, not animal tails…” Yet another unpleasant reminder. “Ou– I’m bothering you, I can see that,” Isbaelle apologized, per se, but her face did not falter nor did her determination change. “I’m not trying to be a life coach or anything– I just mean to start off on the right foot?” “Well…” Joyce with nothing but mixed feelings sighed, “it doesn’t seem like it’s going very well…” Yet her less than enthused comment had no effect. “Maybe not?” the stranger admitted, laughing without a care. At this point their small discussion was feeling like an interrogation session. No wonder this woman wasn’t getting any bites, and this shark too had no intentions either. “Can I guess?” “Guess what?” Joyce frowned. “Your thing? Why you’re here?” Thankfully the crowd was noisy enough to mask the small click of her tongue. “I told you, I’m here for a friend–!” “Is it bondage?” Such a daring question which would have had Joyce falling over had she not been sitting. “N-no! What are you talking about? I don’t have a thing for–” “Pets? Do you like big puppies and kitties?” The crease between her brows that sloped up to the ceiling was beginning to form while she tried to look anywhere but the woman’s piercing gaze. “Th-this is ridiculous…” If Joyce could feel this vulnerable and bothered, she could only imagine the puddle of liquid Emily would be under the same kind of duress…! “Oh?” and like she struck gold, “You do? Well, that changes things a bit, but I–” “No!” Joyce stressed in an outburst, enough to actually garner some looks. She didn’t look back, but immediately set her back against the booth seat again, much more quiet now. “I’m not into any of that…” “But something?” “...But nothing.” And it was like her words had no effect. Unless it was the true answer, the one Isabelle somehow knew existed deep down in Joyce’s flustered heart, she was only going to keep digging, and Joyce just kept sitting. Twenty questions somehow ensued. “Roleplay?” “No.” “Another person?” Emily? She knew? “N-no.” “So it is! Then is it–” “N-no! I said it doesn’t!” “But you’re saying it?” And Joyce’s cold sweat only intensified. How to admit to having a fetish without admitting to it… Shit! Isabelle kept on going, on an un-ending, joyful assault. Curiosity fired from her mouth like a relentless lazer and Joyce’s fragile mind was at the seams with trying to protect her most vulnerable secret. “So it does involve someone else…” the interrogator passively mused and Joyce was losing her voice. Then a lightbulb went off. A flash of blinding light that hit before the Brazilian bomb sent her shockwave. “Are you a…domme?” Or maybe not. A total miss. Joyce’s inner monologue sighed with relief. More than happy to answer, with a tinge of confidence she promptly replied, “Nope.” “Oh wait, you’re new to this, aren’t you? A gentle domme?” No sparks were flying yet. “A mommy?” The crowd must have screamed in collective horror. All Joyce could hear was the deafening crash. Shattering glass, crumbling brick and groaning mental infrastructure. Fire alarms were sounding and all she could hear was pure chaos with eyes wide as saucers. Too stunned to move from the shock, her peripherals tried to survey the damage of the restaurant. Yet there wasn’t any. No one was screaming, people were chatting. Windows were whole, lights still worked and there wasn’t a single flame to be seen. No one was the wiser to the absolute mess Joyce was certain she had heard and seen. All for but a flash. All in her mind. Her precious psyche with a hole gaping wide from the fracture this woman had dealt to it. All just to see what was inside. Her teeth were cemented together yet her lip trembled. Barely anything. Joyce had said nearly nothing and it got her like this. To a point like this…! She said nothing in return but she didn’t need to. Her look of embarrassed surprise told more than enough. She waited for the party-like laughter Isabelle had been touting this entire evening to Joyce and likely others. Her relaxed, go-with-the-flow atmosphere washing through Joyce’s confidence and composure like a typhoon. But with her fist left vulnerable on the table, she felt the jolt of electricity once Isabelle touched it. She’d been had. Discovered. Found out. Again. Again and again. Her most important secret that could hardly be kept from anyone…! And in all this time to think to herself, lament and quiver from the reveal; awaiting the ridicule from someone who just simply didn’t understand. Someone who couldn’t even fathom a modicum of how precious it was, how much it mattered. From a know-it-all that just had to–! For the first time that night, an honest voice that wasn’t doped on energy came from Isabelle. “Sorry, I think I overstepped my bounds a little?” No laughing. None? Hurriedly Joyce retracted her hand. She was already looking for a way out. Where was Carol? “Joyce?” Feeling like her heart was going to pop out of her chest, Joyce looked at the woman one more time, regretfully so. And immediately in spite she spoke. “What? Are you happy? You figured it out. Good for you.” “Joyce– No, I’m sorry, I was a little excited… It’s because–” “No.” Finally with enough conscience to leave, Joyce stood from her seat in a moment of confused rage. For a split second she was ready to crumble, had Isabelle been ready to attack. Her loss, now that Joyce’s psyche was intact. Isabelle was standing up in a hurry to catch her, but Joyce was already storming off. She walked with one purpose and one only. Forget waiting for Carol; she was leaving on her own. This was a mistake. A dumb, stupid mistake. What was she thinking? What was she hoping for? Whatever it was, this certainly wasn’t it. All she found was a bunch of weird proposals and a bully to boot. Stupid. So stupid! Isabelle got as far as halfway before the crowd between them simply did not permit. With an angry text rushed with one hand Joyce descended the steps of a place she would never be seeing again. Christ, an entire fucking state she’d pay the pilot just to not fly over. Keeping her words simple and prompt, letting Carol know that she left early, it was a brisk, lonely walk along the brick-laid path as she scheduled some kind of ride back to the hotel. Stupid! So fucking stupid! And before she stuffed her phone back in her handbag, a new horror swept her over a thousand times over from a mere glance at her screen. MISSED CALL: EMILY (4) Multiple missed text messages. Where r u? Pick up!!! need to talk. Please! im gonna go buy ice cream if you don’t text back!!! Since when? Emily had been trying to reach her this whole time? Forget the restaurant. Forget that woman. This was a whole new grief that swallowed any other issue like an abyss. Forgetting to call Emily. Not texting her back. A long exhale left her nose, stricken with worry now for what was back at home. A place she wanted to be more than anything now. And she did want to call right then; drop everything just to do it. But she was upset. Frustrated. So many complex and difficult emotions she didn’t want Emily trying to deal with. Not wanting her to worry. She would be fine and she knew it, but if it wasn’t such a horrible feeling. Barely as an afterthought there was something from Sheila as well. Work, undoubtedly. But she allowed herself to feel selfish on that front just for the night, wanting nothing more than to get back to the hotel, call Emily, then sleep early just to get home even faster. What a night. What an experience. What a mistake.

40 - Out of Town “What?” “Mmmmfmmm.” Were her ears working properly? “C-come again?” Joyce tried not to smile. “Mmmmfmm!” “Wait, found the problem,” Joyce grinned, hooking the ring and pulling a pacifier out of Emily’s mouth. “Try that again?” “I said, what’re you gonna do without me tomorrow?” Emily rolled from one side of the bed to the other, all with her padded behind peering over a pajama pant waistband that was far too undersized for a girl in oversized protection. “I may not be a scholar, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what you were saying with that pacifier…” “Yes it was. You just need to keep studying,” Emily declared right before smothering her mouth into Pip. Joyce leaned forward on the bed, snatching Emily by the bare waist with her hands, dragging her back to the foot of the bed. “Mommy’s just about ready to give up. It might just be something meant for cute little tots like you?” “So you mean I’d have my own secret language that I can use to keep secrets from you?” “Maybe, but who else is just as fluent as you?” And in the midst of their chit-chat, Joyce tugged down the front of Emily’s pajama pants, feeling the warm front of her diaper before tugging it back up without a comment. A silent signal that a change had yet to be warranted. “And since we agreed on no secrets,” Joyce slightly paused for dramatic effect, and as a teeny tiny legitimate reminder, “I can only imagine you might be scheming about…hmm…playing hide and seek from me? Maybe hiding Mommy’s favorite pair of shoes? Trying to hide a soggy diapie from me? Huh? Huh?” “Stop!” Emily giggled, “No tickles! No secrets! I promise! Promise!” “And don’t forget it~,” Joyce sealed their pact with a kiss on the forehead. Then she sighed, “But yes, that is a very good question,” now she really was sulking, “what am I going to do without you tomorrow…” “I don’t mind going too?” Emily tried a route long-since shutdown once more. “Thank you for offering again,” Joyce smiled affectionately, “but you know that this dinner is going to run past your bedtime?” “I don’t have a bedtime…” Emily groaned. “You certainly do on business dinner nights?” Joyce raised her brow, but eventually softened her expression. “I want to bring you too, but since Carol invited me, it just wouldn’t be polite. Or at least, it’s important that it looks like a business trip and not a vacation...” “So are you gonna invest?” Now the night before the event, Emily admittedly was a bit curious. “Invest?” Joyce’s tone carried uncertainty, but optimism. “No idea. It may be all fetish stuff, but a good idea is a good idea. Though…I can’t exactly say I know a whole lot about fetishes.” The wolf was trying to pretend it was a sheep, but Emily with a grin kept that thought to herself. “What? You don’t?” Okay, maybe not. “And neither do you, missy,” Joyce fired right back with a little bit of competition. “Part of investing is about making educated guesses. Knowing what works from experience and figuring if there’s a market for it. Didn’t Carol mention something about fursuits when we were at their house?” Her face was covered in skepticism. “I wouldn’t even know the first thing…” “Maybe it’ll all be super weird and freaky stuff,” Emily openly marveled, “like…like super hardcore torture stuff? Or people that wear latex and have orgies?” Joyce wasn’t as well-versed as Carol, but she knew when her little girl’s mind was starting to run awry. “Maybe?” She shrugged. “But that’s what I’ll find out. More importantly, my flight is in the morning a little bit after around when you’d be waking up. Want me to give you my goodbye kisses before bed tonight?” Sometimes things just had to be done out of courtesy, regardless of whether you knew what the answer would be or not. Emily, giving the expected response with a dash of frowny-face, said, “No. I want you to wake me up tomorrow before you leave. Promise me?” With a pinky hooked with hers, Joyce leaned in, “Promise,” right before kissing her on the lips. “Maybe while I’m gone I can leave you with a babysitter?” “Excuse me?” “Just to keep you from getting bored?” Joyce shrugged nonchalantly, holding back the teasy part of her voice. “I have Pip,” Emily held the mochi defensively. “I’ll be fine.” “Relax, I’m kidding. Or I don’t have to be? Amy said she wants to double check some measurements, you know? You two could make a day out of it?” Emily narrowed her gaze, finally able to see a speeding bullet just peeking on the horizon. “I’m not wearing diapers for Amy.” “She didn’t say which measurements,” Joyce laughed. “Either way, if that was the case, the only way it’d happen is if she was fine with diapering you herself.” And Emily being okay with it at all, first and foremost. “What? I’d do it myself?” “No?” Joyce innocently, but firmly, put down her freedoms. “We agreed, remember? Little girls don’t get to change their own diapers?” “But strangers do?” Just where was Emily on this totem pole? “Grown-ups do,” Joyce corrected with a boop on the nose. “Grown-ups we both agree on.” “Which is only you,” Emily quickly added, suddenly feeling the slight need to make mention of such an important point. “Only Mommy,” Joyce nodded with a pearly smile. They laid there some more while Joyce absentmindedly traced circles in the comforter. “But…what would you think about including someone else?” “Huh?” There wasn’t any Jazz music or ambient noise that could be stopped to insinuate the jarring surprise, but the diaper crinkling certainly ceased. “I dunno,” Joyce shrugged, “I’m just thinking out loud. Like if there was someone else that could interact with you when you’re my baby girl?” “You mean…sharing me?” Was this actually Joyce she was speaking with? “No. Not sharing.” Joyce didn’t look happy to hear the ‘S’ word, which was something that finally made sense to Emily, given a slew of jealousy this woman was known to harbor. “Someone who…adds to the lifestyle? Does something for you that I can’t?” Emily at best was keeping a sideways look. “I mean…I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t like this now, sort of, but…I think you’re a big reason why I like it, Joyce…” she murmured her lips, avoiding eye contact, “...Mommy…” Joyce giggled, kissing her again. “And you’re one-hundred percent of the reason why I like it, my little Emmy.” She breathed quietly for a few moments before saying, “I guess I mean someone like…like an actual babysitter, or…or a private tutor that’s like your personal daytime daycare teacher?” “Are you being serious right now?” It wasn’t phrased in any sort of ridiculing way, but as a means to try and decipher fact from fiction when there were sparkles in Joyce’s eyes. “No…and yes…a little…” she exhaled. “If I’m being honest, I think I get carried away with my dreams a little bit…” “I think so too,” Emily giggled with her hands on her lover’s waist. “Besides, wouldn’t that risk your reputation or something? If something like that got out?” “Yes, but…” A mind with desires was the worst fiend to be in the company of. A pestering trickster that sat atop her shoulders 24/7 with as much time as it pleased to exercise reason and rationale just to make the impossible seem possible. “There’s…you know…discretion.” “I think you’re mommying a bit too hard, Mommy,” Emily spoke upwards to her star-gazing girlfriend. “I think so too… Maybe it’s Mommy’s bedtime? “Afraid so,” Emily sighed the most ‘oh my hopeless girlfriend’ sigh she could ever muster, then stood on her feet, hanging by the doorway. “Did you forget something?” Joyce asked from her spot on the bed, just as comfy as she was a few seconds ago. Apparently the mood hadn’t been mutually understood. “I…” Emily’s eyes shift down, then back at the door, then on repeat just a couple more times. “Weren’t we gonna…take it off?” “Change your diaper, honey?” Joyce innocently asked with a tone of syrup. “I just checked you, silly; I think you’ll be fine.” “But you’re leaving early tomorrow?” “And I think I’d be a bad mommy if I left my little girl in a wet diaper the entire time I’m on my trip, but just as bad if I let you go to bed without a diaper on?” Then with a cautious hand against her cheek she said in a lowered voice, “What if you have an accident, sweetheart?” “I…” Her cheeks were red, meaning an embarrassing talking-to had been well-executed. “I’ll have you all taken care of, Emmy,” she beckoned her back to the bed. “Or did you want to sleep in your crib tonight? We can do that too?” It didn’t take any more than that to get a padded waddle back over to the bed. “No. I’m fine.” “Good. I was hoping to snuggle all night? Just so I don’t forget what it feels like tomorrow?” Questions then went on to be answered with actions, and actions only beget more actions. Joyce, with such a ripe fruit hanging right before her, played Emily like an instrument. Hearing her embarrassed squirm, Joyce tugged down her pajama bottoms in full, past the ankles and soon onto the floor. “Hey…!” Emily whined, something she was unfortunately building a knack for. “Shush, it’s just in case,” Joyce couldn’t hide her rosy-cheek smile. “If you leak I don’t want you to ruin your pretty PJs?” “I won’t leak!” Emily could find pleasure in the idea of being small, but she wasn’t accustomed to playing make-believe about her bladder. “I know you won’t, because Mommy keeps you in the best-est diapers!” Joyce giggled again, kissing her all over. “And actually,” she paused to ponder a thought, “there was that one time when Mom and Dad were here; you did have an accident on the couch, sweetie? Remember?” “No I didn–!” Emily started to say, then the memory inserted itself and the embarrassment spread through her like a parasyte. “Th-that was different! That was just water! It was a…” And for lack of a better word under a panicked mind, Emily, bless her innocent soul, cried, “It was a different kind of accident!” And Joyce, overjoyed by her use of the a-word, only chuckled fondly. “And I love you no less,” she kissed her again. With such a limited bag of tricks already vetted by her Mommy, Emily played her strongest card, threatening, “Maybe I’ll just go sleep in the other bed tonight if you’re gonna tease me so much…” “Yeah?” Joyce caressed her cheek. “Wanna have some crib time?” “No. The other bed. My old room.” “That’s where the guests stay, silly. It’s either here with me in the big girl bed or in your crib?” Whether it was because Emily suffered from chronic gullibility or Joyce was simply good at forcing an atmosphere, an altered reality was all the diapered girl could see. Knocking her head into Joyce’s side, she laid there with her mind made up. “You’re like politics…” Emily grumbled. It didn’t make sense in such a characteristic way which is why Joyce could only start with a laugh. “Excuse me?” “Lesser of two evils, and stuff…” “Ah-huh… Well, before you push any of Mommy’s buttons, do you want something to drink before bed?” “Coffee Milk.” “Juice it is,” Joyce rose from the bed. “Stay put.” “I didn’t ask for juice!” Emily droned with a groan at the open doorway, which her girlfriend had already passed through. “Emmy? Baby?” Joyce made the first whisper of the morning into a sleeping Emily’s ear. “I gotta start getting ready now…you awake?” The sleepy and tired whine squeezed between her lips as she involuntarily stretched. “Hnnnmmm…!” With her eyes still closed, Emily’s hand probed itself around the bed, searching for the waist beside her and resting on it for as long as she could. Unfortunately it wasn’t long, to no one’s pleasure as only Joyce with her eyes open frowned to end the gesture so quickly. “I’m gonna get this diaper off you and into some big girl undies, ‘kay?” “Wha…what time is it…?” “Too early for you to be up,” she issued the tranquilizer with a tender kiss. “Keep those eyes closed, I gotta turn the light on.” A well-advised suggestion indeed, as even with her eyes shut Emily was rolling her face into the mattress just to escape the irritating light. A pair of hands found her waist as for just a brief moment her padded bum left the bed when Joyce tugged on the tapes of her diaper. It’d been wetter than last time Joyce checked last night, which was always nice to see. Though for Emily she was likely too tired to care, and would never admit how secretly appreciative she was becoming of its sponge-like qualities. And through the pillow Emily sleepily mumbled, “I’ll…in a second...too…” “Mhm?” Joyce whimsically cooed back, finding Emily’s sleep babble somewhat akin to a tyke rambling through a change. Her words didn’t need to have any meaning, and all Joyce needed to do was acknowledge and love right back. One trip to the nursery later and one trip back, Emily was where she was left on the bed, only naked from the waist down now, but not for much longer. It was mind-boggling to think of how much wearing diapers could force a paradigm shift or flip her world view. That’s to say, the shift back to panties was always a weird one when it felt like she wasn’t wearing anything at all, essentially. No more thickness, none of the crinkle to remind her of what she was wearing, and none of the intimate checks from her girlfriend either. Right as Joyce turned to leave, a hand of the living dead rose from its eternal slumber to snatch the wrist of the living. She turned her head to see Emily using her as a foothold for dragging herself out of bed. “No, no, silly,” Joyce laughed as she forced her back on the bed, “I said too early for a reason.” “No…” she started, then continued one yawn later, “diapers…no rules… I wanna be up when you leave…” “I thought we just agreed on goodbye kisses?” Seeing as her girlfriend had no intentions of abetting her efforts to stay awake, Emily slumped herself to the other side of the bed, finally rising from the torso and up. “And I gotta be awake for it…” And then on a whim, though feeling the most desirable, Emily asked, “Can I come to the airport with you?” “What? Emily, you should be in bed right now. No, no airports.” Stumbling onto her feet like a newborn doe, Emily crashed into Joyce’s arms. “Why not? Charles’ driving, isn’t he…?” Being tired made it so easy to act spoiled. “Can’t he just drive me back here?” It most certainly was possible, and more than likely not an issue. But for Emily’s sake, Joyce decided to rewrite reality. “No, because that’s not what I told him to prepare for, sweetheart. Besides, you know what’d happen if you went along for the ride, right?” “What?” “I’d definitely have to stuff a cutie like you in my suitcase then! Mwah! Mwah!” Between her giggles, Emily relented. “Okay…fine…” Joyce tugged her suitcase on wheels to the front entrance while Emily dozed around, half-slumped against the walls to support herself as she watched, barely managing to qualify as an alert spectator. In a blazer and slacks, Joyce couldn’t stop herself from kissing her panty-and-pajama-shirt girlfriend each time she had to pass by, or at least made up a reason to. And trying to be as much help as she possibly could, Emily asked, “And do you have…uhm…the stuff?” “Yes; I double, triple, then quadruple checked,” Joyce assured, even though “the stuff” was as clear as Emily’s current state of mind. One buzz later on Joyce’s phone and they were sharing their final embrace. “I’ll be back tomorrow in the afternoon, okay?” “Mhm…” Emily nodded, though trying not to come off as somber. “Stop it,” Joyce grinned, “this is a thousand times harder for me, you know? Alright, be good; call me if you need anything, because I’m definitely going to be calling you. There’s food in the fridge, no ice cream– don’t give me that look!” she warned, both playfully and not so playfully. “And most importantly, I love-love-love you very much!” “Love you too…” Emily came back with a blush, a hug, and a final kiss. “Promise me one thing?” Joyce asked. “What?” “Once I leave, go back to bed.” “...Fine.” And with that the door was opened and closed, and the penthouse was one less in attendance for more than 24 hours. For at least two of those, however, would immediately be spent going back to bed, per the warden’s order. “Joyce!” “Carol!” Just outside of the baggage pickup of the airport, they shared a hug before putting Joyce’s luggage in the car and driving off. “How was the flight?”Carol asked from the driver’s seat. “I’m sorry we couldn’t fly in together, by the way! I had to take care of some other stuff; I’m so glad you decided to come!” “I appreciate the invite, and yeah, the flight wasn’t too bad. I think I can only say that though because I always try to get a good seat… How’s Michael and Jackie, by the way?” “Good! They’re up to the usual, but Jackie wants to know when you two are coming over again!” she paused to laugh, “I’m so sorry! I think my daughter considers you two as part of her friend group.” After laughing herself, Joyce said, “Well it’s good to hear that everyone’s doing good. We’ll definitely have to get together again, sometime.” “Oh! I forgot! How’s Emily?” She couldn’t help herself when she let out a small phantom pain, “Awh~. I told her the only reason she couldn’t come to the airport with me was because I’d try and stuff her in my bag.” “Homesick already?” “Admittedly, yes…” Joyce awkwardly drew circles on her thigh. “Since we started…dating,” and how wonderful it felt to be able to say that, “this is the first time I’ve left on a trip. Normally I feel fine, but this time is just…” “Like you’re always anxious about how things are at home?” “Yes!” she blurted out immediately, then just as quickly recomposed herself. “I mean– Yes, it feels like that a lot…” It was a bit shameful the way she’d reacted, but it was also entertaining, given Carol’s laugh. “You remind me so much of when I first had Jackie! I didn’t get to have a whole lot of time off with her until I had to go back to work. Just going to the office was like torture; being away from her for so long. I tried to avoid trips like these as much as possible just to be home as much as possible. Only after Michael talked me out of it did I start getting comfortable again. At least for me, I’d call it Mother’s separation anxiety. I’m sure you’re probably going through a similar thing.” “Mm…” Now Joyce was the quiet one in the relationship, mulling over what likely was MSA. Mommy Separation Anxiety. Commonly confused with GSA, the girlfriend variant, though much more severe. “You could give her a call right now, you know?” “I want to, but if I’m right, she should still be asleep right now. She was up to see me out the door, but I made her go right back to bed afterward.” “Michael’s usually the same way, but if I have too many flights in too short of a time, he usually calls it ‘taking a rain-check’ on giving his goodbyes,” Carol snickered, “I don’t blame him. I don’t like getting up early either.” “You should see her,” Joyce was already digging at the thought in her head, “the poor thing barely handles early times just as much as late ones! I brought her to a business dinner a few weeks ago, and after just a few drinks…” Aimless wandering around the apartment unfortunately made for quite the terrible pastime. No Joyce meant no excitement, and all that was left was job hunting, but her boredom and unease from her girlfriend being away put her in a mood that didn’t want to do anything involved. Not only that, but Joyce probably wouldn’t give her the password to the parental lock on the computer. Maybe she should go out? Then her feet came to a halt once the thought had hit her. Go out and do what? By herself? The silence spoke of her awkwardness. “Maybe I should be friend hunting instead of looking for a job…” Was it bad that she was thinking of Amy right then? Was Joyce being serious about her wanting to come over? Was it still too late? Then she remembered the diapers. Without Joyce? Absolutely not. Never. It was bizarre how thoughts alone could make a person feel embarrassed. That one time alone was plenty enough anxiety-inducing. Besides, Emily wasn’t allowed to change her own diapers, so that would mean– Falling into her hands, she groaned aloud, “Urgggh…!” Of course she’d be able to put on her own diaper then! Joyce had wrapped her fingers around her so tightly, it was hard discerning left from right anymore. She loved it, truly, but if it couldn’t cloud her judgment at times… It was more than likely going to be a do-nothing day. A do-nothing day that included ice cream, whether her girlfriend liked it or not. She wasn’t here so Emily didn’t have to listen. That thought felt liberating, and quite empowering, actually. “Just a comfy, do-nothing day…” she whispered her plan, then nodded to herself once the confidence had been found. And on her way to the bedroom to find a nice pair of sweatpants, like a photo on the wall being slightly ajar, something caught the corner of Emily’s vision. A door that was usually closed had the slightest crack in it. It was enough to stop on a dime, enough to watch and stare for a good few seconds, and enough to slightly nudge the uncharacteristically unlocked door open just a smidgen more. And a little more. And just a little more. In an absolutely shocking turn of events, Emily was standing inside the nursery. Alone. Unattended. Unsupervised. It was a bit ridiculous, but an odd sort of giddiness or curiosity infected the woman standing there. Had Joyce forgotten to lock it? She usually doesn’t forget that kind of stuff, so to see a rare mistake like this was quite the oddity as well as treat. She imagined it as almost like witnessing behind the scenes of some grand picture or play. Being at your school in the dead of night; being somewhere at a time you’re not supposed to be. Without Joyce, her mommy, what power, if any, did anything in this room have over her? Lots, certainly, but all without the director to orchestrate it all. Maybe she could tease Joyce about forgetting later on the phone. Striking herself with a newly brilliant idea, Emily wandered over to the closet, stepping inside. There weren’t many, but all her specially designed outfits hung on the racks, freshly cleaned and ready to be worn. Mischief may have been her cause, because half the reason she stayed in this room was simply because she could never imagine getting a chance like this again. Getting to explore the nursery by herself? Without consequence or reprimand? A small smile grew on her face. She was trying to get comfy, wasn’t she? The perks to having been babied already meant acquiring some kind of tolerance for it at this point. She’d still blush, she’d still go quiet and meek, but that at least meant by now she could certainly tolerate herself. She looked back at the mirror as she held up the footie pajamas against herself. It was cute…naturally, considering Amy had made it. And she was by herself. Alone. She could wear it, be comfy, put it back after, lock up the nursery herself, and no one would ever know. No one. Excitement and intrigue were dangerous things, because Emily didn’t even recognize herself anymore as she stripped her shirt, unzipped the back of the pajamas and stepped inside. The inside was lined with a cool, soft material, like a soothing hug all over. It was strange, but the secure feeling she got as she watched herself in the mirror trace the zipper up her back was wonderfully suffocating. Since when did she enjoy stuff like this? Her confused look warbled into a bashful grin. Joyce had been her constant drug and she was probably starting to form an addiction. She bent and stretched, just to feel and watch the pajamas conform and follow her every move. It was silly, but that’s why she couldn’t help but laugh. But most importantly, it was comfy, far more so than what sweat pants would afford her, which is why she kept it on. Leaving everything as it was, she resumed her trip to the bedroom, only to grab Pip and head over to the couch. Turning on the tv and finding a nice spot, she was all set. “So it doesn’t officially ‘start’ until later tonight,” Carol explained with air quotes, “but usually we get together for drinks beforehand.” Joyce listened as she unpacked. “That’s fine by me. Though…I don’t suppose I could have a little coaching on what to maybe expect? I am curious, but I guess I don’t want to look completely like a fish out of water…” Scouting investment opportunities wasn’t a foreign concept to her, but in the way of kinks certainly was. “Don’t worry; everyone at this event is extremely professional. After all, they want our money,” Carol laughed, and so did Joyce. “Sure, I can tell you a little bit about what I’ve seen in the past. Before that though, maybe you want to try giving Emily a call? I know I’m gonna call back home.” She may have just been looking for the go-ahead, because Joyce was already pulling out her phone. “Yes, definitely. Is it okay if I borrow the bathroom?” “All yours.” A few minutes later Joyce was sitting on the edge of the tub with her phone held against her ear, waiting for the quiet buzz. “I was expecting that to take a little longer?” Carol sounded surprised as she finished hanging up her phone. “Me too,” Joyce sounded a bit glum, “I tried twice;” she chuckled, “she’s probably napping right now, if I had to guess.” “Did she have any plans for today?” “Mm…don’t think so. I think it might be just a lazy day for her. She might be feeling bored, though…” “Maybe you should’ve gotten her a babysitter then?” Carol chuckled. With her mind elsewhere, almost a bit too seriously Joyce let her unfiltered thoughts slip when she started to say, “Maybe…” Then caught herself a second later. “--Uhm, but… No, she’s fine, I’m sure. I’ll try calling her later.” “Sure,” Carol nodded with a smile. “Should we get going then?” “Sounds good to me.” Sleep was quite dangerous, and no other opinion could be offered otherwise. Losing blocks of time to just emptiness or dreams that kept the distracted mind entertained. Without alarm clocks or doting girlfriends the passage of time if left unchecked could be robbed entirely by the sleep demon. Emily groggily awoke to the sound of knocking, a half-slumbering mess as she rose from the couch. She yawned with Pip in her arm, near-stumbling over herself as her bare feet through the cuffs of her pajamas padded across the floor. She’d done it. She had slept the entire day away and then some. It was already tomorrow and Joyce was back. Sleeping for so long really could put a spell of guilt on a person. Imagine losing an entire day simply because your lover was gone? It sucked, but Emily couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Joyce was finally back! She wanted to know how the investment event went. Did she see anything weird? Meet anyone new? Was she buddies with Carol now? Emily debated waiting for Joyce to come in herself, just so she could lunge at her on no-heel days like she always did, but once she heard another knock, it became quite clear that Joyce had forgotten her key. Just like she’d forgotten to lock up the nursery. Apparently Emily wasn’t the only frazzled one. With her free hand on the door she unlocked and opened it, saying as she did so, “How did you forget so much stu–” “Oh?” “S-...” It was an intruder. A stranger. It wasn’t Joyce. What the hell was going on? Emily wanted to move for the door, but she was frozen. Not frozen, just scared, shell-shocked and frazzled. Rather, she even took a step back, the fool that she was. And like that it was too late. The person had entered, beyond the barrier that could’ve separated them once again. “E…Emily?” the person asked. And only then did it fully click. A name had come to mind. Did all the associated memories flood her head. “Sh…Sheila?” Emily quietly, in a painfully small voice whispered back. Sheila stood in front of her, bewildered and surprised to see Emily as much as she was to see her. She was in casual, modest attire with a purse over her shoulder. Emily could barely find the words as she looked up at her, then remembered herself what she was wearing. At least Emily was caught at a good time. Thankfully, no diapers to be seen and just her big-girl panties. Though, a silver lining like that didn’t matter when they were underneath her loud and colorful footie pajamas. The cherry on top though was the tightly clutched Pip by her side, only short by a special blankie for the full set. Her eyes couldn’t seem to look away from the girl. From her clothes. “Uhm…” Sheila broke the silence, blinking once or twice before reaffirming herself. She turned her head back to the doorway, stepping over just to close the door, committing them both inside. “Emily, right?” Emily would have liked to believe that she sounded normal, yet in a very objective squeak she said back, “Y-Yeah…” She wanted to bolt. She wanted to run, but her frozen emotions made it impossible to move. Just like for Sheila, she too remembered the last time that they had met. The memories for her however came much more vividly, on account of having far less substance in her bloodstream that night. Everything she’d done for Emily. She remembered that it was her job to watch her while Ms.Summers was working the rest of the dinner. It was her job to get Emily in her pajamas and into bed. It was her job to find her stuffed animal, or toy, or… “that,” was as best as she could describe when she instantly recognized the item being tightly squeezed by the girl. A litany of questions were already flooding the secretary’s head, which only inflated her sense of curiosity; a difficult thing to satisfy with anything other than the truth. “Wh…why…” The sound of a quiet and socially frightened Emily finally made Sheila snap out of it. “Oh! I…I’m sorry about the surprise. I’m here to pick up some of Ms.-- I mean Joyce’s files she brought from the office.” Since that night at the hotel Sheila had kicked the habit as soon as she formed it when it came to addressing her boss. It felt strange to use her last name around Emily. Like expecting a kid to know their parents as nothing but “mom” or “dad.” Why that was the comparison she thought of though was a different question entirely. Emily, while she tried not to implode from sheer embarrassment, paced the thoughts in her mind as to how Sheila could have come unannounced. It seemed very out of place, and so did Joyce forgetting things, but Sheila was trustworthy, or at least she was supposed to be. Joyce told Emily to see her as such, after all. “Do you want to call Joyce to double check?” Sheila asked with a step back into the shoe area. “I don’t mind waiting.” It was clear Emily felt uneasy and now it was mutually known. Emily frowned apologetically, “It’s…it’s not that, it’s just…” “It’s all right,” Sheila smiled, “Do you want me to call her? I could also give–” “No…I have her number…one second.” Emily disappeared a second later. Sheila left alone then put a hand to her mouth, perplexed and staring at the floor. What was she thinking? Why did she say that? Did her boss’ girlfriend really need help calling her? What kind of question was that? And offering to give her a number? Belittling and insulting was all it was, and only guilt was what she felt for it. Maybe it was those…objectively cute footie pajamas that she was wearing, and how they were interacting last time. How Ms. Summers interacted with Emily last time. After all, she worked that night as a babysi–...a caretaker. More importantly, did Emily live here now? Her boss was almost always well-equipped, but if she was perfect, then Sheila would be out of a job. Hence why some of the work like this could come about. Sheila prided herself in her diligence and dedication to her work which was ensuring smooth-sailing for her boss. That included access to her outside of the office, like the spare key she had stowed away now in her purse. She’d only been to Ms. Summers new apartment once before for a similar situation, but there was no girlfriend then, as far as she could tell. Soon a furry pajama-wearing pipsqueak returned with a phone nursed against her ear. “Did Joyce know you were coming?” “I made sure to let her know earlier today, though I know she had some kind of non-work event that she needed to attend.” Non-work was certainly uncharacteristic of her, which is why Sheila could only guess in certain areas, but an unattended Emily certainly seemed out of place, what with how protective her boss had seemed. Emily didn’t answer back as she listened to the constant pulsing buzz from her phone. Why wasn’t Joyce picking up? Was she busy? It was maybe just the shock of not being Joyce, but stress was all she felt from dealing with an unexpected visitor. And then another unsettling thought had hit her. It was Sheila. The Sheila. The middleman Sheila. The one who handled all Joyce’s private affairs. Satisfied her requests. Got things done. Got things made. Got…diapers… “Not picking up?” Sheila asked, who started to pick up on the reservedness Emily was starting to show. Come to think of it, she did look like she was napping before she came to answer the door. Voicemail. Of all people, Joyce had missed a call? Emily frowned, maybe partly out of selfishness, truly believing her own issue to be important and worthy enough of her attention. But whatever the reason, Joyce wasn’t here now and the situation had come to Emily’s discretion. “She didn’t pick up… She’s not supposed to be back til tomorrow,” Emily said, finding a conveniently sewn front pocket on her footie pajamas to stash her phone. The moment she made use of it, the secretary’s eyes followed the entire time. “...But it’s fine. We’ve met before and…you seem…nice, so…” After a long second, Sheila looked up from her pajama pocket. “I-Is it okay if I take my heels off? I don’t want to leave any marks on the floor.” Emily quietly gestured for her to do so. “Did…you need to go to her office?” “Please. I’ve been here once before though, so I should be able to find the way?” “Oh, then uhm, in that case I’m just gonna go change real quick if you need anything…” Emily was fast disappearing. But fast enough. “Wait,” Sheila called, and something dreadful, maybe a switch inside Emily’s brain meant for someone else had just been unexpectedly flipped. “Are you changing for my sake?” It was an extremely forward question. One that came on impulse. “I’d rather you didn’t just because I’m here?” “It’s…it’s not that…” It totally was. And if looks could kill, surely it was Emily’s bashful face wandering about, and it was a lock of hair twirled around her nervous finger that struck the final blow to Sheila’s petrified heart. Sheila brought a hand to her mouth like she was about to cough. “I…really don’t mind?” She didn’t mind, nor was she looking forward to seeing the sight leave. Why did it matter though? She just didn’t want to be the reason such a sweet thing was ruined. And if Emily folded, it would have been an indirect admission to Sheila hitting the nail right on the head. And she had, but Emily was still debating whether to lie and save some visual face. Regardless, her comfort zone must have been lost in transit, feeling bare and exposed right then. “I…I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything…” Sheila watched her leave, admittedly (only to herself) doing something she probably shouldn’t have. It was simple curiosity; nothing she would ever act on or respond to. Something she simply wanted to know just because. And she probably had her answer. No crinkle, no puff. What could have been under those pajamas likely wasn’t. Things had changed somewhat since her last visit, but thankfully the walls and floor plan wasn’t one of those. Take a left in the living room, walk down the hall, and at the end should be… But a new nugget of information had stopped her in her tracks. What she remembered about the apartment were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an office. A living room, a kitchen; the works. All that and one room for storage. Boxes, furniture in hibernation… And as she had made her walk to the office, from the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but see what was most certainly not a storage room. The walls as she remembered were unpainted and white. Not cream. A simple and unused room had no need for drapes, nor a carpet, or a mirror, or a…large crib, or a cushioned table…with… A doorway with a door only half ajar could show only so much, which wasn’t a lot at all. What it did show was a sliver of something much bigger, and such a small taste enticed Sheila’s curiosity like pure dopamine. The intrigue and suspicions she’d worked so hard to choke, punch down and hide away as a result of everything her boss only ever alluded to were rising from the ashes with vitality and force, demanding to be answered like an itch that was begging to be scratched. What she saw was far more than from just a half-glance through a half-open door. What she saw was from standing dead-center inside the nursery, because that’s where she was. There were certainly lines in her work relationships that should not and could not be crossed, and as the secretary’s heart rate picked up from stimulus intake, she was fairly certain that the line was sitting way back at the doorway. Unless her boss had a second secretary taking similar orders, Sheila could not mistake the two baskets filled to the brim with all-too-familiar looking diapers. Ignorance would have asked if they were for her boss, or maybe a third someone she had yet to meet. And yet, there, in the apartment, sitting in the kitchen, footie pajamas, stuffed animal and all, was the primest suspect who could easily have been carrying the same scent of powder Sheila could smell in this room. This nursery. It was certainly weird, but strangely, very strangely, fascinating. She’d never even seen something like this, much less conceived it. A nursery for a giant baby? An…adult baby? A few seconds later Sheila was by the changing table, pressing her hand curiously on the cushioning. It felt sturdy, well-designed. Another custom piece? BabyMaker. Another synapse fired and another connection had been made. For the first time she finally turned around and jumped in shock, just stifling a full-blown yelp! She’d been spotted. She was seen! But…she wasn’t… but she was. A large, stuffed bear sat in the corner of the room. A large, large bear. Big enough for a smaller-sized person to be enveloped by completely. Then she spotted the closet. And already waist-deep in what was surely a violation of privacy, Sheila’s sensational self took hold and tip-toed forward, quietly turning the handle and peering inside. It was certainly a half-empty kind of closet, but what caught her by surprise the most was an entire other machination waiting for her. A…giant chair? A chair with a table? Once it clicked her eyes grew wider. It was a highchair, but of course for an adult, and yet that seemed to mitigate the shock no less. She quietly closed the door, turning back around to take in the bizarre room all over again. Her eyes fixated on the crib. A bed where someone could sleep. An adult could fit in it. An…Emily, even. The footie pajamas. Cute. Colorful. Just like everything else in this room. The numbers were crunching faster than she could process coherent thoughts and the conclusions were already writing themselves…! This wasn’t just a stranger’s room. This was Emily’s room. She…lived like this? As a…for lack of a better word, a baby? Sheila tried to find the logic to refute, yet she had anything but. It was obvious to say that she’d walked in on something she was absolutely not meant to see, and yet the guilt hardly matched the immense intrigue and satisfaction for having her old wounds of not knowing freshly opened and satisfied beyond belief. And so, somehow finding her way back to reality, Sheila stepped out of the nursery, setting the door back to how it was as best she could. As much as she wanted to observe Narnia for a little bit longer, Sheila tried to remember her reason for coming here in the first place, walking off to the in-home office. “Sheila?” The woman adorning her glasses nearly slipped and fell on her backside, the surprise caught her so badly. Quietly cursing herself for stockings being the work attire of the night, Sheila put on her best smile as she turned around. Still in her footies…! “Y-yes?” “Uhm…I just remembered…” Emily couldn’t have sounded more bashful if she tried. Stretching her hands along her front, she half mumbled, “It’s…well, Joyce got some software stuff on her computer, so I don’t know if you’ll be able to use it…” How was she supposed to explain to her girlfriend’s secretary that her workstation had a parental blocker on it because someone was too irresponsible? “Software?” Sheila asked, but the conundrum solved itself in the span of speaking the very word. “Ah! She has parental controls on them, doesn’t she?” Sheila kept half-glancing Emily’s way, but she slowly gravitated towards the office. She knew?! “Is that what it is?” Emily awkwardly laughed. “I wouldn’t know– I only heard her talk about it…one time…” It wasn’t even intentional. Sheila was a problem-solver by nature. Even as a bystander she couldn’t help but observe. Think. Make her own conclusions. “Joyce gave me the information just in case something like this happened. I should be all set.” “Oh, uhm, okay…” Another thing that Joyce knew that Sheila knew, but Emily didn’t. With Sheila’s back turned to the girl, Emily couldn’t help but frown. Trust Joyce. Trust Sheila… Being that Emily was no tech whiz by any means, hearing someone type at what sounded like a professional level was certainly intimidating. By the time Emily could finish a sentence, Sheila was likely forwarding three different drafted emails. The only digits she had that knew how to type were the short, opposable ones that could only text. “Does Joyce keep a lot of stuff from work on her computer?” “Yes, but she usually sends me everything. She must have been in a rush so she didn’t get the chance.” Even mommies forget stuff, apparently… Had Emily not already forgotten, she’d be thinking that same thought twice over now instead of one. It reached a point when Sheila was sitting in the computer chair, typing away, signing onto the company VPN, opening files, preparing an email– Oops! This executable requires parental permissions to be used at this time. Please enter the password below: Not surprising. Sheila got Joyce the license, after all. Like many things, this password was just a drop in the bucket of how many things Sheila could and did retain on a daily basis. And just as she was about to type, a pair of padded feet evening themselves out on the hardwood floor reminded her of who was watching. Emily obviously noticed she stopped too. For what reason? And maybe it was not the best action, and maybe it wasn’t the best impulse. She could have stayed quiet and simply put in the password; it likely would have been too fast for her to see, anyway. And yet, already being such a slave to her instincs tonight, Sheila couldn’t help herself and asked: “Did Joyce say if you could see the password?” The tiny zipper on Emily’s footie pajamas jingled. It was demeaning. It was rude. Amounting the woman to just a child that needed rules. Supervision. It was bad. Sheila knew it. But a tickled side of herself was begging for the question to be asked. Begging to confirm what had to be absolutely true. Stroke her ego. Stroke her bias. To Sheila’s credit she wasn’t smiling. It sounded like a genuine question because it was one. Emily was no longer there. Instead, the stiffest board of wood you could find in the northern hemisphere had suddenly erected itself in a pair of pajamas. Needless to say, Sheila’s question cut deep. Of course she was going to say she could know! She’d mention that it was for Joyce’s nephew who totally visited all the time, and actually drew a really cute picture for them on the fridge! She was absolutely going to lie just to save her own skin. She was… Surely… Maybe it was the eyes. Maybe it was because she was sitting in Joyce’s chair, so she had the same demeanor? Right? Was it the footie pajamas making her feel like this? “Emily?” Her patient reminder hit Emily like a hammer. Shit! She asked again! Had she been quiet for that long? A second? Multiple seconds?! Emily’s toes tried to burrow themselves, but the shiny wooden floor and her closed-feet clothing was having none of it. But why? Why?! Why couldn’t she just lie? Ashes wasn’t here, so what the hell had her tongue?! And in her most pathetic play yet, Emily stuttered out an awkward laugh. “A-ahm…! I actually…I’m gonna get some water? Do– do you want any?” “No thank you,” Sheila smiled. No, she did something else. Yes, she smiled, but there was something else in that smile. Emily may not have noticed, but Sheila sure did. A smirk? Did I just smirk at her? Too embarrassed to own up to the child lock, Emily was gone. After a few good seconds of no return, Sheila quietly huffed, hanging her head back for just a second, then put in the password. iluvPeaches27 Passwords were supposed to be random. Yet as of late, nothing felt random anymore. Emily was hunkered down in the kitchen again, staring down at the transparent substance in her glass. She didn’t even want water; she just wanted to live her lie so well that it didn’t feel like one. Uncomfortable memories of second grade were bubbling up for some reason. She loved her former teacher, Ms. Lox, but some days in second grade were downright terrifying when work didn’t get done. The days she didn’t do her homework were like public executions the next morning. When the teacher came around to collect everyone’s assignment and was nearing poor elementary-level Emily. And when she was just with Sheila a moment ago, it wasn’t Sheila that was sitting. It was Emily still in her grade school desk with her expectant, discerning teacher right beside her. The embarrassment was burned into her memory to this very day. The fake excuses she would give. “I’m still looking for it!” she would say, falsifying the search for a finished document that didn’t exist. And Ms. Lox would know it, too. She’d keep walking while Emily drowned in shame, slowing down the movement of her hands, the rummaging of her folders and notebooks as soon as Ms. Lox was speaking to another student. She was forever known as the girl who couldn’t admit the truth. Well, at least for the rest of the class for just that afternoon... Second grader’s memories were quite fickle, thankfully. But the point still stood. She’d just been Ms. Lox’ed by Sheila. She just Ms. Lox’ed herself! Her heart still dwelling on memories stumbled with a horrible jolt as soon as she heard a pair of teacher’s heels. Shit! Her homework wasn’t done yet! But she sighed in quiet relief when she remembered that it wasn’t second grade anymore. Peering around the corner, she saw Sheila sitting on the edge of the floor, slipping on her heels. “Did…did you get everything?” “Hm?” Sheila turned her head, stunned all over again by the sight. It was her niece about to be sent off for bed. Was she about to be asked for a goodbye hug, next? Finally remembering to speak and smile, “...Yes, mhm! Everything I needed.” Yes, everything and so much more. With a quiet nod, not knowing any other way than to just stick around as a means of sending her off, Emily patiently waited for Sheila to leave. “Do I need to go turn off the computer, or anything?” Emily’s eyes wandered over to the living room where the route to the office was. “...No,” Sheila shook her head, dragging her mind back from somewhere else. “I…um, I took care of it.” She slowly draped her hand over the handle. “Okay. Well, er, have a good night?” With a hand behind her back, Emily offered a small wave. No. Absolutely not. Never. Impossible. It simply could not happen. It couldn’t end like this. “E…Emily?” Sheila retracted her hand and turned away from the door. “Have…have you had your dinner yet?”

Chapter 15: Hanging Around Tuesday morning I woke up in my cage. I was not as surprised this time, waking gently in the growing light. I felt Jenn's hand on my back, and I realized that she had opened a hatch on top and was sleeping on her bed, her arm in my cage. It felt nice. I mean, I'd prefer to be in bed with her, but if that wasn't possible, this wasn't half bad. Jenn had taken my muzzle off when I was in the cage last night, which for some reason meant a lot to me. I turned around a little, getting my head positioned under her arm, her fingers on my unobstructed face. They felt warm and soft, and they smelled of her. I went back to sleep contentedly. ** I woke later and Jenn’s hand was gone. I tried to see if she was on the bed but my view of the bed was blocked by a package of diapers sitting on top of my cage. “Jenn?” I whispered at first, listening for her to stir. “Jenn?” A little louder. Still no response. “Jenn? Where are you? Please?” Now I was almost yelling, getting worked up. I heard the toilet flush in the hall bathroom, and paused. I heard footsteps, and then saw her come into the room. I calmed down. “Are you OK? Were you calling?” She knelt down and opened my cage door - there was no padlock on it today. I rushed out, nuzzling my face into her chest, smelling her wonderful smell. “Sorry. I… I missed you, and when I didn’t know where you went I panicked a little. But I’m better now.” She gave me a hug before spreading out the supplies for a diaper change. I didn’t need to be told ‘Diaper Time’ twice, as wet as I was. This time, rather than the disposables I had gotten somewhat used to, she took the dog-bone diaper cover and laid a cloth diaper on top, securing it with snaps. After cleaning me up she slid the assembly underneath me, pulled it up between my legs, and secured the velcro. She helped me roll over. “How’s it feel?” I looked up at her. “Why don’t you try it and see?” I moved around a little. It was definitely more bulk than the daytime disposables I’d been using, but it did seem to fit a little better and I thought it looked a little more… well… dignified. I told her that. She smiled. "Well, between your nice new muzzle and your new diapers, you’re starting to look like a much more ‘together’ Pet. Want to go to the park and show off your new duds?” We both laughed, and she hugged me again, my face pressing into her breasts. It felt so good, being with her, knowing that she was caring for me. We went downstairs together to scrounge up some breakfast. The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent lounging around. We did go to the Pet park for a while before lunch, and after we returned for lunch Jenn brought me out back and put me on the Pet run. I complained when she left, but a few minutes later she re-appeared in a stunning bikini that left little to the imagination. She pulled an umbrella over, and my desire went wild when she bent down to spread a towel on the ground within my range, next to a lounge chair. I started to nuzzle her crotch, but she laughed and pushed me away, telling me with a grin that she'd be forced to put my muzzle on me if I couldn’t control myself. Sighing, I lay on the towel in the shade and tried to rest while she read next to me, her hand resting on my shoulder. It was nice to have some quiet together-time with her, with no training and no pressure, just enjoying her company. I soon dozed off. I was woken sometime later to the ringing of a cell phone. Jenn had apparently fallen asleep as well, as she was groping around trying to find her phone. “Hello? … Hi Beth! How have you been? … … Yes, just got back this weekend. … No … No, it turns out when I went to see Karen’t graduation, I bound to a Pet! … Yes, really. So I’m back here for the summer while we get adjusted. … … It’s a he, actually… Yes, really! … Definitely. …. Ok… Sure, where? …. OK, see you then. I can bring JayJay there, right? … My Pet. His name is JayJay. … Oh, cool. ... Right, OK, see you there, then.” After hanging up, she got up to pull the chair more under the umbrella. “We’re going out tonight, JayJay! We get to meet some friends of mine.” She sat back down and closed her eyes, apparently not expecting a response from me. Thirsty, I walked over to the water station that had been installed for me, jingling a little as I trailed the chain on the Pet run attached to my collar. I took a drink, returning to the towel. I tried to sleep again, but my diaper was wet and uncomfortable, the ground was hard, and I had rested enough. I was hot, so I walked over towards the pool. With the chain attached to my collar, if I pulled and swung around, maybe I could get a leg into the pool to cool off. I maneuvered to the closest point, and I found I could get one leg over the edge of the pool. Pulling harder, I thought I must be close to the refreshment I was craving. Then things started to go dark, and I fell over. “JayJay!” I heard Jenn yell. She was pulling me, and I started to revive. She unclipped the chain. She had a look of immense concern on her face, that was starting to morph into a look of anger. “What were you doing?!?” “I was just… trying… to get my leg in the pool…” “Well, you almost managed to hang yourself! And I almost let you do it. Dammit.” Now she was full on angry, but it wasn’t at me. “I should have used the harness we got you yesterday but I was being lazy. Karen warned me that the collar wasn’t safe. Argh.” Her look turned back to one of concern. “Are you OK?” She rubbed my neck, which was OK, but I played it up a little because the gentle feel of her hands was reassuring and nice. “I know you want to get in the pool, but we can’t until we figure out a safe way, and your leather mitts won’t do well, so we’ll need to get some Pet swim gear at some point.” She hugged me. “Let’s go back inside. It’s time to help with dinner anyway.” We both got up, as far as I could, anyway, and went inside. Dinner was an uneventful meal of PetChow on the floor as usual, for me. After dinner, Jenn brought me upstairs, put me in my crate, and disappeared after re-assuring me that she'd be back when she was ready. Hurry up and wait, indeed. It wasn't really that long before she returned. She had changed into some loose summer clothes and I let my eyes admire her. I was so happy that my Keeper looked so beautiful. I certainly did luck out. She added some jewelry and picked a pair of shoes from the closet before coming to my cage to open it. "Your turn now. Diaper time." She held up a plain white diaper cover. "I think we might be out for a while, so let's try doubling this up..." She stuffed two cloth diapers inside, making a rather bulky diaper. As she pulled it up between my legs, I could tell it was much bulkier than the one she had just removed. "I'm not sure I can walk with this..." "You'll manage, I'm sure. I'll bring some disposables just in case as well. Also I think we'll try some of these Pet clothes we got?" She held up two options, one blue outfit and one green. "Let's see how to get this on... get up..." I rolled onto all fours, and she figured out how to position it and fasten the velcro fasteners that held it in place. It wrapped between my legs and covered my diaper, although the puffiness left nothing to the imagination about what I was wearing, as well as my back and upper arms. I tried moving around and it moved with me. It felt pretty nice, really. I shrugged. "Better than going naked, I guess. Thanks." "Glad you like it. OK, let's get going." She gave me a pat on my diaper and clipped on my leash. She grabbed a few diapers and wipes, threw them in a bag, and we headed downstairs. We were almost to the front door before Jenn realized she had forgotten something and ran back upstairs, returning a few seconds later. "Can't forget this in public." I groaned as my new muzzle was fitted and locked to my head. Then we were ready to go. From the new Pet carrier I could see outside a little, but most importantly I could talk to the people in the front seats. It made riding in the car much more pleasant than riding in the crate in the back, so I was eager to show that I appreciated it. I shuffled up the ramp and got in by myself, waiting patiently for Jenn to raise the side to lock me in. I realized that sometimes just the improvement from a bad place to a not-so-bad place was worth being thankful for. Jeff's Story by JustForFun is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. You can share it with attribution, but cannot change it or make money off it.

A fun quick romp of a chapter Sunday-morning-with-Parents The note on the bedside table was brief – but important… As I said last night – I had our family dentist give me a special appointment this morn –I love you, and want to look my best for YOU – I will think of us while in the chair! xoxox J PS – if you really have a problem – Mom can change you; just no fun until I get home….around 10-10:30. There are certain things that no girlfriend’s mom should have to do, and I was pretty damn sure that changing a boyfriend’s soiled diaper was pretty near the top of that no-go list. So with 8am rapidly approaching I did what any sane person would do – cursed my luck – that by thinking LAST NIGHT with the small-head, which got me into this fine pickle, and made damn sure I didn’t leave the bedroom. My cell-phone rang and it was a Fort Wayne area code – Jess from the doctor’s office? “Hello?” Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, how I wonder where you are, up above the world so high…like a… “Hello?” I put the phone down, stared at it and shifted my legs in bed so that the urine could soak into my diaper easier. Then I sprung out of bed – DRIBBLING was one thing – but a full-out soaking should have cued my brain to do something….!!?? I looked at the wetness indicators and felt the weight, and sighed. My bowels began to say “hey – the bladder got to go – why not us…?” and I told them to please – oh – please hang on a little longer. I walked around the room, and then counted tiles on the bathroom floor, I switched on the news and tried to concentrate on events of the day – I even watched an info-mercial for a new device that would give me abs of steel in a matter of weeks. By 9:10am I was clearly losing the battle and then just thought YOU WIN, spread my legs and with just a small nudge the warm log slid out and went “ker-plunk” in the rear of my diaper. Now, I was not able to sit down…so I paced and counted the number of steps it took me to cross the room and back, I checked e-mail on my phone, and… “Steven – are you in there?” “Yeah Ro, I’m uhhhhhhh – am getting dressed.” I tossed sweatpants over the full diaper, and went for a loose jersey. “Do you want breakfast?” Yes – I did – but there was no freakin’ way that I was unlocking the door… “Umm, no thanks – still trying to absorb last night’s chat – and my stomach’s a little tender.” I could “feel” Ro smile – and I could hear it in her voice. “Steven, it’s easier to talk if you open the door. I’m sure you at least have pants on by now.” “Ro – I really don’t want to open the door – I’ve got a small problem, and I’ll wait to Jess gets home. Thanks – really – thank you very much for caring.” “WELL IF YOU NEED ME TO CHANGE YOUR DIAPER, JUST COME GET ME OUT BY…” I RAN to the door and YANKED the door open as fast as I could and a Cheshire Cat-grinning Robyn Redenbacher was standing their taking in the sights and the scents of her daughter’s favorite guy. “Good morning!” “David will hear you….!!!!!!!!!!” “David’s out on the patio enjoying ESPN and a Bloody Mary; I’m going to join him by the pool.” *Sniff* “Jess told me that there might be some “mommy” things I could do for you this morning; do you wish my help?” A small part of my brain screamed YES-OH-GOODNESS-YES, because Ro looked absolutely yummy; a one-piece bathing suit cut high on the thigh, and breasts that were damn near perfect, and little-heeled shoes that seemed to make her legs go on forever, the cover-up was just something I’d rip off her so I paid it no mind… But don’t lie to Jess, and no diaper play were two rules to follow, and I mumbled “no thanks.” “Okay.” Outside by the pool, she picked up her cell, and told Jess she could come home at any time because Steve was very wet and clearly soiled. Jess left the pharmacy parking lot – packed her mouth on one side with a bit of cotton, and drove home. Ro heard her pull in and smiled behind the Journal Gazette and waited for Jess to “call her in.” She looked at David, and satisfied that he was well into the sportscast, she reached a lone finger down and around the leg of her suit and her digit confirmed what the rest of her body was saying – she was SOAKED. A partially garbled - “Shteve?” could be heard coming up the stairs. I peaked around the door, and it was Jess. “Are you okay??” She nodded and came around me and I closed the door. “Jess – your mom tried to help – but I really didn’t want to – can you help me out of this so I can get some break…” Jess had THAT look, and my heart skipped a beat, and my dick was trying not to do much of anything but GROW. Even with a mouth with a bit of cotton she sizzled. Her Pixy cut was spiked, her eyes were radiant, the diamonds shone brightly against her tan skin, her nipples were THERE and well – she was amazing. “You’re hurt – let’s postpone this til later.” She shook her head and kicked off her sneakers and slowly walked herself out of her jeans. “My hands still worff” she mumbled. “You smell all baby-like and Jessie’s body wants to flay…” She yanked off her top, threw it on the bed, and then pushed me back onto it – which caused the stool to move and mash around my scrotum. Play was an understatement – she was randy and hot, and wanted to get one more swallow of thick male DNA down her throat to make her tooth 100-percent fully grown in. “Don’t move.” A warm wash cloth was around my cock and two tapes on each side were down when the room warped and bent, and I knew Ro was in with us. That and the fact that my nipples were being licked – and there was no one near them…Jess was doing the two-fingers-and-a-thumb-routine again and the pressure was perfectly exquisite – and she was gazing hard at me and smiling. “Do you want me to shtop? Say ‘Jess please shtop and clean me up’ and I’ll have you ready for breakfast within ten minutes… I’ll count to ten – jush say ‘please stop rubbing my cock while I sit in a wet-smelly diaper’ and I’ll hoff off of you……One…Two…Three…Four…you’re not going to shay anything are you?...No cause this is fun…and now there are two of us…two of us to play with our big wet poopy baby… Ten.” I was huge and I spread my legs even wider – and unseen hands were pushing and mashing and playing between the bottom of Jess’ ass and the bed spread – and my balls loved every mushy second. I opened my legs as wide as they could go. “Is there anything more baby-like than a smelly wet diaper? I nodded no. “SAY IT OUT LOUD STEVEN…” “I love my smelly wet diaper.” “Say it again…” and she began to rub a little slower and a little stronger. “I love my smelly wet diaper.” “Again.” “I love my smelly wet diaper.” “What do you love?” “I love my smelly wet diaper. I love my smelly wet diaper. I love my smelly wet diaper. I love my smelly wet diaper. I love my smelly wet diaper. I love my smelly wet diaper….” The chanting rose and rose and the air got positively E-LEC-TRIC.. “I love my smelly wet di….” OH MY GOD JESS…..and I came in gobs and gobs and gobs.... I twitched and spasms coursed through my body and all was still – and I felt Jess licking, here and there - lapping my lower abdomen and licking out my belly button, then my cock got a slurp or two – and I shuddered again, and zonked out to sleep. Ro tingled and smiled and stretched and found her most sensitive part and lightly moved her fingers back and forth….looked at her husband, and then got up, went over to the patio chair put her vagina on eye level with her husband and hoped the H-G-H was cruising through his body. It was. David rubbed her mound beneath the spandex and led her into the cabana…a wolfish grin across his face. The match had been lit – it was a game the ladies have never played as adults – but each knew by the dizzying array of mental bursts between them that it was time to milk David and Steven’s cocks as much as they could – as often as they could. The more you absorb – the darker the orbs. If your he cums on your skin – rub it in. A B-J a day keeps the doctor away. In a matter of minutes the cabana had not two, but three “people” playing – and while Jess DID stay away from her Dad’s genitals - his nipples were kissed into sensitive areas of warmth and delight, and then his souls of his feet were caressed and lapped – and Mom got filled up very quickly and very intensely and she felt her mom just fuckin’ S-M-I-L-E. Ro crept out as David snored on the rumpled bed sheets. And then eleven minutes later – while their donors (and lovers) slept – the two women pranced around the kitchen in just heels, jewelry and thongs, and laughed….rich and full, and both displayed a full set of perfectly white teeth, plus breasts that no longer sagged. “You’ve got an advantage – Steve’s 25 or so years younger than David.” “Dad’s on H-G-H – his body bounces back quicker.” “Yeah – but get Steve into a wet diaper and you’ve got an instant erection.” “I’m famished – and horny.” “I’ll cook eggs – Steven will have to take care of the other part.” “Give me a minute.” Jessica marched upstairs, opened the door and gently closed it….and Steve’s MASSIVE baby smells flowed in and up her cute little nose… and her lower lips quivered. She shed her heels and thong underwear – tiptoed to the bed, and looked down on her wet messy baby still post-climax-dozing on the comforter and her jersey, and straddled his face. I came awake and Jess’ lower region was wet and very very very close by… “Hello sleepy head.” I scooted her ass forward and her vagina was right there, and I began to pull and lick and suck and lap, and lap, and lap – keeping my stubbly-chin away from her tender folds and her breathing became ragged, and she played with her breasts and then flooded my chin, forehead and face with her juices. “Now we’re BOTH wet.” Her breathing slowed – and she giggled – “I love you.” She then lay on me fully – even over and on my squishy diaper – “Jess…be careful….” She kissed me, and then got up, released the tapes of my diaper and bade me to get to the shower. I flushed most of the offending mass down the toilet and got into the shower. Jess walked down the stairs in her Peyton Manning shirt and handed Mom the rolled up smelly diaper – Ro smiled, took it, bagged it 3x’s and sprayed JOY into it, and put in the trash, then Jess took the shirt Steve had been lying on – sniffed it, smiled and threw it in the washer. She looked at the clock – it was only 1:45 – there was plenty of day to go… “don’t wallow in it – swallow it.” Jess walked back to her mom and said – “I’d like to make a toast.” Ro – touched each of her nipples – smiled and went to get to glasses off the bar. “Wine or the real stuff.” “Steven likes Stoli – in honor of my guy - get the real stuff.” Ro fetched two rocks glasses, and the bottle, and plunked them down on the kitchen counter, then got a tumbler full of ice. “You know your dad’s DNA is dripping out of me.” “My tongue got coated.” The glasses were filled with a healthy splash of vodka. “Cheers – we’re each at ‘one victory’ on the sperm-fest. First lover to three – or better wins!” “Mom - *giggle* we can’t get any younger – I’m almost back to 25 and you’re what – about 40? If we keep this up, my vagina will be hairless and you’ll be a teenager dating Daddy.” “I don’t know if the anti-aging process has a limit or not…” They both laughed – full and rich….bumped knuckles – downed their shots, and said ‘GAME ON.” “I love you Mom.” “I love you my darling, welcome home.”