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Chapter Thirty Nine “Argo.” Amanda started. “McDerpus” Mr. Mike finished over her shoulder. John nodded at them with a completely serious look on his face. Mommy turned and walked right outside without saying a word. Mike looked between Amanda and John and followed Amanda outside, not noticing that the child gate swung shut behind him. Now feeling confused, he walked over to the gate and looked at their shadows in the grass. Mommy’s shadow was doubled over and he could see the shadow of her arm over her mouth. And then he heard it. He could hear her snort. Then he heard her laugh. Then he saw Mr Mike’s shadow reach over and hold her up as she had a full blown laugh attack. The sound of laughter made him crack up again. And from the looks of it, Mr Mike was having a quiet laugh as well. Argo McDerpus was the perfect name. It was a couple of minutes before they came back in. Standing at the gate, he could swear he heard something with the words ‘adorable’ and ‘dork’ or maybe it was ‘adorkable.’ but it was impossible to tell for certain from around the corner and across the porch. When they finally came back in Mommy picked him up and squeezed him and his new stuffie together in a hug. She seemed to be just managing to keep a straight face as she explained “Mr Mike and I are going to spend a couple of hours working in the kitchen making tomato sauce and salsa. After lunch, and probably a nap, we’ll probably go for a walk. “ For his part, John simply nodded along. She continued “Do you want to help us, or draw or read or something else?” Looking back and forth between Mommy and Mr Mike, he really wanted to participate, but had no idea how he could. Plus he was a bit snacky. “I don’t know how I can help, but if there’s something I can do I will? Although I’m a bit hungry.” With a nod she ruffled his hair as carried him over toward the counter. With one arm holding him, and his arms holding Argo, she shuffled the chairs around with two facing the counter, and one of the chairs with the booster seat facing out, while the other was facing in so he could climb in and out on his own. Mommy stood him up on the chairs and pointed “Why don’t you put Argo *heh* McDerpus in the booster seat for safe keeping while we work. Nodding along John lined Argo up in the pink booster seat facing in and immediately realized that the stuffie was bigger than him because he had to shove and shimmy and work to wedge him into the booster. By the time he had Argo in the seat, he stood up to look across the counter to see Mr Mike taking a knife to an apple. Quickly making lots of vertical chops and then flicking the slice off of the apple with each pass. Now, John had never considered himself bad with a knife, but watching someone several times your size run a knife into an apple the size of a grapefruit, flick a slice off onto a plate with one quick motion and immediately doing it again tends to leave you with a bit of a sense of awe. Mr Mike slid the small plate over to him with a nod and he happily picked it up sat on the chair cross legged and started snacking on them. They were cold from the fridge, and crisp and crunchy. And frankly just sweet and oh so slightly tart. As far as Johns earth born taste buds were concerned, it was as good as candy. He barely registered as Mommy sat a sippy cup of juice next to him by leaning over the back of the chair. All told, he wound up spacing out for at least fifteen minutes in his own little world full of healthy snacks and 32oz of Plapple juice. There were some upsides to go with the downsides. He had this nagging sensation that the juice always seemed to make him have more accidents, but it was impossible to stop drinking it regardless. Eventually he stood up on the chair and looked at what was going on. Mr Mike was cutting tomatoes into eight pieces and filling a big glass pan with them. Some sort of leafy green stuff was waiting to be chopped. There were several onions, a measuring cup next to it, and a pile of peppers that would likely have reduced most sane people to a gibbering pile of mush. Mommy read the recipe off to Mr Mike again and he started chopping onions, while she looked directly over at John before taking the peppers over to the other counter to cut them far away from him. That felt like a great kindness, honestly. John propped his elbows up on the counter and watched the goings on, fairly content to just watch and listen for the moment. It was fascinating to watch the two giants passing ingredients back and forth. Mommy was reading a recipe card, and cleaning jars while getting a bunch of lids into a pot on the stove for some reason. While they each did their respective prep work, Mommy brought up the topic of expanding the fenced in yard and adding a green house. John found their conversation mildly interesting at best. Until she mentioned being able to grow strawberries nearly year round in the greenhouse. Then he listened more intently. After about ten minutes, and one finished cup of Plapple juice later, a large food processor was taken out. Probably big enough to hold a bit over a gallon. It didn’t look ‘huge’ but it was definitely ‘really big’ to John. All of the ingredients were mixed up in a giant bowl and some of the mixture was unceremoniously plopped into the food processor before the lid was twisted into place. Mr Mike nodded to John across the counter and said “Don’t worry big guy, your Mom’s making the first batch mild for you before we get to the spicy stuff. That way no residue gets left over to sneak in and make you burst into flame.” John nodded along, genuinely happy for that bit of insight. He hadn’t thought about the possibility until it was said out loud, but then the thought of salsa he couldn’t eat seemed concerning. The thing about food processors and blenders is that they are loud. Very loud, in fact. You never realize how loud they are until you turn one on. In this case, John realized how loud this food processor was the instant that Mr Mike twisted the giant dial to one side to make it pulse briefly. The instant the large food processor five feet from his head turned on, Johns feet left the chair he was standing on. Before he knew it, he was landing in a heap on the chair with his hands over his ears. He wasn’t screaming or making any noise, but for a brief moment he almost blurted out something that got him spanked and put back in time out. One moment later, Mommy was their reaching over the back of the chair and pulling him back upright. “Baby, are you okay!?” she asked in a panic. John looked up at her and answered quickly “I’ve changed my mind, may I sit on the porch and draw?” Shaking her head, she said “Yes sweety, let’s get you a comfy blankie and a pillow.” The next few moments were a bit of a blur for him, since Mr Mike came around the counter and carried him out to the porch where Mommy folded the comforter she’d been letting him nap on into a smallish square that was thick and fluffy. Xerxes wasted no time flopping onto the thick comforter and waiting for his little. Mr Mike held him out parallel to the ground and made a big show of making a mechanical whirring sound as he lowered him like he was a person shaped crane. Despite the flurry of activity, John couldn’t help having a giggle. His drawing pad was held out to him, and the dark gray 3D pencil that he had taken to using was handed to him. The entire box was placed off to his left so that he could use any of the others that he wanted. “Xerxes: Guard” Mommy said as she came back outside to put a sippy cup full of cold water next to him. He went from crouched on the chair covering his ears to outside reclined on his furry buddy in less than two minutes. He spent a moment pulling some of the comforter up over his legs and then flipped through his sketch pad waiting for an idea of what to draw. Looking at his previous drawing of the yard and garden, he thought about the conversation he had listened to about them expanding the yard and adding a green house. It took some squinting to get a mental image of what he wanted, and he knew that he didn’t get to erase any mistakes so he wanted to make it count. Taking a moment to make a tiny doodle of what he imagined in the top right corner so that it wouldn’t be in the way of his left hand as he drew, he drew the porch taking up half the bottom, and the house taking the other half. He then did a quick mock up of the stone path going to the gate, and made a square at the back, then a few lines that he guessed were about the number of rows of plants. With his idea roughly in mind, he grabbed another pencil to use as a straight edge and started drawing from his perspective on the porch, but this time he made the fence go roughly twice as far away, and pressed VERY hard as he drew the back fence. That done, he doodled a rough green house based on the few times he’d ever seen a glass building. It wasn’t great, but it had a roof with one single edge that was taller on one side. Sure, a green house would probably have a two sides ot he roof, but this was his doodle and he could do what he wanted. Kind of grinning to himself snuck in a little rough drawing of Argo sitting up on the top of the greenhouse. It wasn’t a flattering little drawing, but Argo wasn’t a flattering stuffy so it seemed even more fitting. As he started to fill in things like a stone pathway going right down the middle of the yard to the greenhouse he saw that he messed up a spot and flopped dramatically back onto Xerxes. As the dog smelled the top of his head he said “I goofed buddy. I don’t want to start over, this was a half hour of work.” After a moment the dog rested his muzzle on top of John, making him flail a bit as he got gently squished. By the time he wormed his way out from under the dogs head, he had an idea. So with a quick hug around the dogs neck and a kiss on the side of the big furry face he said “Thanks for the idea buddy. Even if you didn’t mean it.” Reaching for a blue pencil he carefully drew a bucket over the stone that he’d messed up and made look oddly like a melting gummi bear sith lord. There, no one will know that he goofed. Having fixed that inspired him, so he drew a tiny little house in the far back of this imaginary yard. Sure, the bigs would just see it as a playhouse, but to him it would look like a little cabin. He even managed to press just about right in the grooves of the boards so that they didn’t look like they were floating comically. Sure, he wasn’t strong enough to make super cool 3D things that popped off the page like a big, but he felt pretty accomplished with what he could do. After he was done with the yard, the walkway, the greenhouse, and the little cabin, he stared up at the plants and decided to put the tomatoes far off to the left along the fence to that they weren’t in the way of the cabin. The short green leafy stuff were next and he was sketching the low wire fence around the pepper plants when he heard tires on gravel coming closer to the house. Moments later there was the sound of the gate latch moving and Xerxes leapt up to stand in front of John. Pretty confused now, he stood up and tried to peak around the dog. First he saw the blue jeans. Then he saw the loaded belt. And by the time he saw the shirt, he knew who it was. But that didn’t stop Xerxes from running to stand at the top of the stairs between the large man and the little he was guarding. Tail straight back, ears locked forward and teeth bare. Xerxes was a silent sentinel. But still, it was time to intervene. “Mom!!! Agent Praefectus is here, and Xerxes is about to eat him!” Within five seconds, Mom was out the door and commanding “Xerxes: DOWN.” And even then, the dog wouldn’t just sit down, he went back over to sit between them and John. And smelled his little just to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t help laughing as the cold nose smelled his face. The view from his side of the porch was of a dog and the topmost parts of two bigs. Mom was polite as always “Agent Praefectus, welcome back! What can we do for you today?” Agent Praefectus came into Johns field of view with a smile “Well Ma’am, the people in the office gave me a more exact list of coordinates to add some more motion trackers, and they said that if we are going to use your driveway every time that they pick up a little, we should ask for a signed statement that you are okay with it.” Amanda nodded “I can sign a piece of paper stating that you can use my driveway to go rescue littles.” With a nod, Agent Praefectus pulled a folder out from under his arm and held it out while continuing “They would also like your permission to install a simple stone pathway along the perimeter of the field. Not concrete or anything damaging, just something in case some paramedics need to be able to get a bit closer.” John watched the bigs head into the house to talk about … Honestly, now that his head seemed clearer and he could think a little better, it seemed apparent that they thought about these conversations as ‘grown up’ or ‘big talk’ and he was just sort of like a kid to them. He just decided to go back to his drawing. Content enough with the rows he had made, he set about using a sky blue to color the sky. When he was done with the sky, me moved onto the fence, and got kind of a laugh out of the little cabin standing out in front of the fence as he colored it in. After coloring the stone walkway, curiosity started to get the better of him, so he stood up and carried his box of pencils and his sketch pad into the house. Finding the three bigs in the kitchen standing around the counter, he put his tablet and pencils up onto the chair he had been standing on, then scrambled up onto the chair himself, then moved his drawing pad up onto the counter and leaned onto it himself. With a quick survey of what was going on, he noticed that they were all three discussing something intently, and didn’t even notice him. Dozens of jars of salsa were on the counter, and even more jars of red sauce were waiting on the counter behind the bigs. Apparently they had finished up. Finally tuning in to what they were saying, Agent Preafectus was saying “But we are working on a way to get to them before they can wander into the woods and get eaten. Or into the river.” Mom spoke up next “Well, if you call me if there’s any motion, I can rush up there.” Agent Praefectus shook his head “We obviously want to get there as fast as possible, but so much can happen in that amount of time.” The conversation went back and forth for a while. For his part, John listened passively while he went back to coloring his sketch. An idea occurred to him and he spoke up “Hey …” They didn’t seem to hear him. “Excuse me.” They still didn’t hear him. So he tried to wave his hand. Nothing. He felt like a child trying to get the attention of adults. Finally raising his voice he said as loudly as he could without shouting outright “EXCUSE ME.” All three of them turned to look at him at the same instant and he couldn’t stop himself from shying back a bit. He felt like he suddenly drew the attention of three giant predatory animals. Mom said gently “John, the grown ups are trying to decide something important. Do you need something?” That made John stand up to his full (very short) height on his chair “But I think I can help.” It seemed like all three of them were listening to a child say that they could do calculus or something. None of them were mean or rude about it, but they clearly didn’t think he had much to contribute. Fine. He’ll act like he’s giving a presentation. “Okay” He started “I think that we can agree that I’m the one here that came through a rift and knows what it was like to come through all disoriented and throwing up?” They all just nodded. Rolling his eyes, he slid the drawing across the counter and said “Wouldn’t it be possible to put a little shack like this one I drew with a light on it and some water and blankets so that any of us that came through had a place to rest and wait for rescue?” Finally all three of them gathered around the picture and looked first at the overall drawing, but then at the little shack. “You could put like a button that says “Press this if you are lost” and then anyone that comes through would know to wait for help.” Mom nodded along and then looked him in the eyes and said “John, that’s very clever.” Agent Praefectus looked at the picture and laughed a little. “From the mouths of littles”

Chapter 25: Doctor’s Orders “Protection.” The implications of that single word didn’t immediately strike me. What exactly was Dr. Mathorn talking about? It was Mom’s reaction to my pediatrician’s suggestion that caused me to put two and two together. “No offense, Dr. Mathorn, but that’s a bit ridiculous,” Mom said. “No teenager would want to wear that to bed. I already promised Maddy that I wouldn’t make her wear them.” I had never heard the word protection used to refer to a diaper or pull-up before, but there could be only one thing that would mean. Like the phrases “absorbent underwear” or “nighttime underwear,” it was another way to way to refer to a diaper that was intended to be less embarrassing. Mom’s reaction was disappointing, but not in any way surprising. It seemed as though my parents had done everything but purchasing diapers for me as they sought to deal with my recent bedwetting. Of course, she would have to respond that way to Dr. Mathorn’s suggestion. “I don’t know about that,” Dr. Mathorn said. “A bedwetting accident is going to be embarrassing regardless of what steps you’re taking to clean up or contain the mess.” Dr. Mathorn turned back to face me. “I’m not saying you should feel embarrassed about the accidents you’ve been having at night, Maddy. You shouldn’t need to feel bad about something that isn’t your fault, though it is normal for it to be an upsetting experience when your body isn’t behaving the way that you would like it to.” “I just don’t see how that is a good solution to her bedwetting,” Mom said. “We’ve already got a waterproof mattress, and Maddy is more than capable of making sure her bedding gets washed and changed whenever there is an accident.” “Those are certainly ways to handle it,” Dr. Mathorn said. “But letting her wear some protection to bed would make cleanup a lot easier and allow Maddy to get a full night of sleep, which is still extremely important for teenagers as they develop. It’s not going to be good for her to have her sleep constantly interrupted for however long the bedwetting may continue.” “I’m not making my teenage daughter wear diapers to bed,” Mom said. There it was. The word that both my mom and the doctor had avoided saying so far in this conversation. “That’s not what I’m saying,” Dr. Mathorn said. “I wouldn’t ever suggest forcing a teenager to wear a diaper to bed if they didn’t want to. But I think that Maddy’s opinion about all of this is what is important. She’s the one who is having to deal with a wet bed nearly every night.” Both Mom and Dr. Mathorn turned from their argument to look at me. “You’ve been unusually quiet,” Dr. Mathorn said to me. “What do you think?” This was it. I could have everything I wanted, but it would require an admission that it was, in fact, what I wanted. There was a large kernel of truth to Mom’s objections. She was absolutely right. Girls my age weren’t supposed to want to wear diapers. Someone else in my situation would have to be extremely apprehensive, at best, about a doctor’s suggestion of protection. Dr. Mathorn was right about the issue of missing sleep, though it wasn’t playing out like she thought it was. Having to stay up until everyone was asleep to wet the bed and toss clothing in the laundry had often left me rather tired the next day. “Um. Um.” I looked back down at my feet. Saying yes would have to mean admitting what I wanted. Could I do that in front of them? This was the final test. I had to make it clear that I was willing to wear diapers without making it seem like I was in any way looking forward to doing so. I thought back to all the preparations I had previously been making for the possibility of having to bring up the topic of those pull-ups directly with Mom. I stared off into the space between Mom and Dr. Mathorn as I delivered my carefully thought-out answer. “I don’t really want to, but I want to be able to have a sleepover still. And it would be nice to not have to get up and have to change all my sheets in the middle of the night. I guess I could give it a try.” Mom let out a small, defeated sigh. Why did she seem so disappointed in my decision? “I think that is a good idea for now,” Dr. Mathorn said, “at least until all the test results are back.” “When should we expect those?” Mom asked. “Maybe by Friday, but certainly no later than earlier next week,” Dr. Mathorn said. “I’ll give you a call right away, and then we can see if you’ll need to bring Maddy in for another appointment.” There was a long pause after that answer. Even with having given my decision about how I was comfortable trying diapers. “So,” Mom asked, “They do, you know, have some in Maddy’s size?” I bit my lip to hold back from blurting out an answer about the advertisements I had seen. Here I was thinking that Mom might have paid attention to them when, apparently, she had been completely oblivious. “Of course,” Dr. Mathorn said. “Most stores would still carry them in the baby aisle, though, in my opinion, they really ought to have them in a separate section.” There was another pause in the conversation. “I guess we’ll get some and see how it goes,” Mom said. <><><> As soon as we had said our goodbyes to Dr. Mathorn, not a single word was said about the decision that had been reached in the exam room while we walked out to the car. My heart was pounding in my chest as I buckled myself into the passenger seat. I had done it. Actually done it. Mom had agreed to purchase pull-ups for me. The only remaining question was when she was going to do it. Surely, it had to be by tonight. Mom would want to see that the pull-ups worked for a few nights in a row before agreeing to the sleepover that I had already set up behind her back with my friends. I got an answer to that question a couple of minutes later as Mom pulled into the parking lot of the first big box store we passed. “Why don’t you stay in the car,” Mom said as she cracked the windows down an inch. “I shouldn’t be in the store all that long.” Mom was out of the car before I had the chance to say anything else. It took me a moment to realize what Mom was doing, but once I understood, I was a bit grateful. The last thing I needed was to run into someone I knew while going inside with her to purchase the pull-ups. I watched from the window as Mom disappeared into the store. The baby aisle was all the way in the back. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard for her to find the pull-ups. I knew from the ads that I had seen that the package would clearly show that the pull-ups would fit me. It wasn’t as though I could tell Mom that I had already verified the fit the other day. I pulled out my phone to respond to some texts from Angie and Emma, though I couldn’t resist looking out the window every few seconds. The worst of it was that it wasn’t even noon yet. I was going to have to wait all day until I’d have a chance to finally wet one of the pull-ups. I wondered how strict Mom and Dad were going to be about their new nighttime rules for me once I started regularly wearing pull-ups to bed. Was I still going to have to deal with the same restrictions about not having too much to drink, even though I’d shown them that it hadn’t done any good? I figure that at least the part about being made to use the toilet before bed wasn’t going to be going away anytime soon. And what about Grace? She was observant enough that she would no doubt notice the sudden drop-off in the amount of laundry I was doing each and every morning. I had no desire for her to find out that the reason was because of pull-ups rather than the bedwetting coming to an end. I checked the time again on my phone. About fifteen minutes had passed since Mom had walked into the store. What was taking her so long? She had said earlier that she was only planning on taking the morning off from work, and with how long the appointment had gone with all the tests, she didn’t have that long until she would need to go into the office. I rubbed at a sore spot on my arm where the nurse had done the blood draw earlier this morning. It hurt worse than when I’d gotten shots for vaccination. If it was this sore tonight, finding a comfortable position to fall asleep in was going to be difficult. The van beeped, and the trunk popped open. Mom had managed to sneak up on me, after all. I peeked into the mirrors and got a glimpse of Mom loading up a few bags. As much as I tried, I couldn’t see their contents. If Mom had managed to successfully find the pull-ups, she didn’t give any indication of that when she took her seat in the car. “Why don’t we get you something to eat on the way home,” Mom said. <><><> Fast food wasn’t something we did all that often. According to Dad, the price really began to add up when it was our entire family eating out. So it was a surprise when Mom said I could pick whatever fast food place I wanted to go out to, as long as it was something that we were going to pass anyway on the way home. I weighed my options before deciding that chicken strips and fries were what I wanted to eat for lunch. When we pulled into the drive-through lane, Mom ordered a meal for me but just got a drink for herself. The best part about the meal being entirely mine was that I could snack on fries on the way home without anyone complaining that I was actually taking theirs. Since I didn’t have keys to the front door, I punched in the code to the garage door to get into the house that way instead, while Mom went to the back of the car to grab the shopping bags. I had just finished transferring my chicken and fries to a plate when Mom stepped into the kitchen behind me. “I’ve got to hurry into the office,” Mom said. “There’s a meeting I’d really prefer not to miss after being out this morning.” Mom reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a bag of pull-ups that weren’t like anything I had seen in any recent advertisements or during the long-ago trips down the baby aisle. “Why don’t you go ahead and put these in your dresser?” My mouth dropped slightly as I took hold of the package. These were not the pull-ups that I had dreamed of wearing for the past three years. These weren’t the same brand I’d worn just the other day in the upstairs bathroom at Emma’s place. They weren’t even specifically for girls, with the packaging making it abundantly clear that the pull-ups, which in the picture appeared to have some grayish designs on the front of an otherwise completely white design, were meant for both boys and girls. After all the trouble that I’d gone through to get Mom to make this purchase for me, she had gone ahead and purchased a knock-off store brand. I stood next to Mom in the hallway, staring numbly at the package of pull-ups in my hands, unable to move. Mom reached out and placed a hand on the package. “If you’ve changed your mind, I can always return them. I’ve still got the receipt. You don’t have to feel like you have to wear them if you don’t want to.” I maintained a firm grip on the pull-ups. It may not have been what I had been expecting, but there was no way I was going to let Mom take it away from me. I’d just have to hope that these pull-ups were as good as the real thing. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll see how they work tonight.” --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

Chapter 63 – Retail Therapy [9:00 PM] Kelly blinked, looking at the security guard, and tried to decide how to react. She already knew that he’d left the property. Her first instinct had been to demand that the security guard call the police… but, there was no way to un-ring that bell, and little chance that it wouldn’t get back to Chris at some point, if there ended up being an Amber Alert put out for Zack. Kelly didn’t know if that would be the protocol or not, and she didn’t want to find out. That kid is going to be hobbling along one of the sidewalks, probably half a mile from here, or less. He can’t go up or down staircases, he has no money, he has no phone, and he doesn’t know where he is. I can find him. “Well, uh, thank you for finally doing something. I am going to have to notify the police, I’m afraid.” The guard gave Kelly a tight-lipped nod. “That was my thought as well – I can call them for you. We talk to them several times a day. I’m sure that they can ask their squad cars to be on the lookout for him, and that he’ll turn up in no time. He can’t be moving very quickly.” “Uh, thank you, but I would prefer to call myself. I have some things I need to convey to them, about my son. He’s... developmentally, well, a bit delayed, and he tells wild stories. Who knows what situation he’s talked himself into, out there, if someone’s asked him what he’s doing on the street at this time of night. I’ll call them.” The security guard watched as the blond, tall, well-dressed lady made her way back out the front entrance of the hospital, once again not acknowledging the guard who held the door open for her. She expected to see the lady reach for a phone, but instead, she walked towards a taxi stand. __________ Kelly walked up to a white Volkswagen that had just dropped a passenger that looked like a priest of some sort, at the taxi stand. She took the door out of his hand as he exited, preventing him from closing it behind himself, and then sat down inside. “Are you a taxi?” she asked the gentlemen who was driving it, who looked South Asian to her. “I am rideshare, Lyft, but also taxi,” he replied. “Do you take credit cards?” “I use the square app, so I can. Where do you need to go?” “I have no idea. I’m going to pay you to get you to drive me around for a while.” The man looked at her in the rearview mirror, perplexed. “You don’t have somewhere you need to get to, you just want to drive around?” “I am looking for someone who might be walking around somewhere down here. It will be easier to find them if I am in a car. They are on a scooter, and I really need to find them. Are there any businesses around here that are still open?” “There is a sandwich shop that is really good, a little ways up…” “I’ve already been there. Something else,” she snapped. The driver looked back over his shoulder at her. “There is a twenty-four hour pharmacy up the street from here?” “Take me there.” ______ [8:45 PM] Officer Riley finished dabbing at Zack’s scuffed knee and palm with alcohol wipes. The boy had winced and sucked air in in response to the stinging antiseptic, but he hadn’t withdrawn or started crying. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from him; in one sense, he was very stoic and seemed to act older than he looked, but then he would get confused and act unsure of what to say, and he would suddenly seem much younger. Mrs. Katrina held his good hand in hers, until his wounds were clean and bandaged. Still holding his hand, she gave it a squeeze and said, “Now, Adam, Officer Riley and I need to have a bit of a closer look at you, just to make sure that you’re not injured, and also, you’re, uh, your one-piece outfit… it’s been damaged, so we want to find you something else for you to wear. Is it okay if we take your, uh, outfit…" Zack interrupted her. “It’s a romper,” he whispered flatly. Mrs. Katrina looked at Officer Riley, and then continued. “Is it okay if we take your romper off, Zack?” Zack became acutely aware of the dampness below and around his midsection. On the one hand, he hated the idea of being undressed by two women, both strangers, in a police station, but on the other hand, he could not realistically fathom the idea of staying in the soaked toddler diaper that was under the larger medical diaper he was wearing. He didn’t know what state the outer diaper was in; it felt puffy between his legs but not particularly heavy. “It’s fine,” he whispered, in a lower voice. Officer Riley reached down between Zack’s thighs, and grasped hold of the leg cuff on his uninjured leg, before pulling the two sides of material away from each other. The snaps disengaged in a linear fashion, snap snap snap snap, until the bottom of the garment was open, and then Zack raised his arms expectantly, and the two women drew the damaged and soiled romper up and over his head. They made eye contact briefly as Zack’s large white diaper was revealed. The expanse of white plastic travelled from his diaphragm to his thighs, down between his legs, and then went more than halfway up his back. The side panels covered his hips like an oversized bathing suit, and the rear puffed out to form a sort of bustle where it enveloped his behind. Two blue tabs on each side almost met in the middle of the diaper, below and above his navel. Mrs. Katrina had expected there to perhaps be a smell about him, once they took his outwear off, but there was only the faintest hint of pee, and maybe baby powder, lingering around. “Do you have anything on underneath your diaper?” she asked. “Yeah,” he whispered, “another diaper.” The police officer furrowed her brow. “Is it another one like this?” she asked him. “No, it’s… it’s a baby diaper. Or like, one for toddlers.” “Do you usually wear… two diapers, when you go out?” Zack’s cheeks reddened, and he looked at the ground. How can I explain that they didn’t have anything my size at the hospital, without leading them back to where they’re looking for me? He stayed quiet. Mrs. Katrina cleared her throat. “Well, then, are you… are you wet, sweetie?” Zack nodded solemnly, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. “Your diaper, the baby, er, toddler-sized one – it feels like maybe it needs to be changed?” the officer asked. “Yeah,” Zack more mouthed than said. “Do we need wipes as well?” Zack shook his head, and blushed harder. “Well, I’m going to run out to a local pharmacy and see if I can scare you up something that maybe fits a little better than this ensemble of a diaper that looks five sizes too big, and one that’s probably a little small. While I’m doing that, why don’t you go with Mrs. Katrina and have a look at what we have in our miscellaneous clothing box – I’m sure that there’s going to be something in there that fits you.” Officer Riley got up off of her knees and addressed Mrs. Katrina. “If you take him down the hall with you, and go into that main area in there, there is a cabinet in the far corner – it will be the only one that doesn’t have a lock on it. In there, you’ll find a couple of bags and a box of random clothing – I think the box holds most of the kids’ clothing. You should be able to find something that fits him.” Mrs. Katrina nodded at Officer Riley, and then took Zack by the hand again, as the officer opened the interview room door, and walked out, making a left, towards the motor pool. Mrs. Katrina looked at her charge, and she wasn’t sure exactly how this would go… would he follow her willingly down the hallway of a busy police station, dressed as he was? She reached over with her other arm and wheeled his damaged scooter so that it was within reach of him, and silently, he put his casted leg up onto it. She gave his hand a gentle tug, and to her surprise, he started gliding along a half-step behind her, being towed, essentially, by his outstretched hand, because he was not looking at where he was going, he was only focused on her feet. A soft rustling accompanies his steps, as the plastic diaper folded and unfolded around the upper thigh of his working leg. When they entered the main office, a couple of the half dozen or so officers working in the room or passing through it turned their heads towards the child, but then quickly looked at the social worker instead, not wanting to stare at the unfortunate boy she was leading. Clearly, he had been dressed by someone ill-equipped to deal with him. They could all imagine a version of what the story likely was – this was a room full of police officers. If the social worker had been carrying conjoined twins, many of them probably would have shrugged. Their jobs intersected with unexpected weirdness on practically a daily basis. Tears collected on Zack’s cheeks and then dribbled down randomly, causing him to taste saltwater as he licked his lips. The social worker put a hand on his head and ruffled his hair. “It’s okay, Adam, everyone here is a professional – this is just like being in a hospital. Sometimes when police officers have to arrest people, or rescue them, they’re in bed, in the bathtub, or even on the toilet. Think about that! They don’t care that you wear diapers, Adam. And they know that you’re being a very brave little boy. Now, let’s see if we can find anything that we can pull up over your cast… hmmm….” Mrs. Katrina started rummaging through the box that she’d located in the one far cabinet without a lock, just as the police officer had described. _______ [9:10 PM] Officer Riley pulled her marked SUV half up onto the curb and left it parked with the four-way flashers on, rather than the overhead lights. She exited the vehicle and hit lock on the key fob. Down here, you never know. Just as she approached the entrance to the pharmacy, the windows for which were covered with bright pictures of happy people doing happy things, a white Volkswagen sedan pulled up behind her cruiser, and one of the back doors shot open. A tall, blond woman exited the car, smoothing down her skirt as she scanned the front of the store, before fixating on the entrance. Officer Riley heard the car come to a stop and looked behind her reflexively, across the sidewalk, which was bathed in bright light from the large 24 Hours sign above the store. She stepped back and held the door open for the women, who gave her a curt nod, and breezed past. Shit, Kelly said to herself as she passed the police officer. I can’t very well start questioning the staff about a missing child, with a cop standing in the store. She looked around the brightly-lit interior of the business, before settling on the aisle the furthest to the left of the entrance. She decided to wait the cop out down there, and then she could make an inquiry at the front counter, reasoning that a police officer stopping in at a store mid-shift probably would not be there long. The bloody cab driver better stay put. Officer Riley walked in the opposite direction from the lady she’d held the door for, over towards the front counter. A short Black woman with a nametag pinned to her blouse was behind the counter, placing products into a bag for a customer. The lady’s nametag said Justine, and below that, Manager. “Hello, can I you a question,” Officer Riley inquired as she walked up to the counter. An elderly man in a long, brown overcoat gave her a passing glance over his shoulder, and then took his bag from the lady who was packing it, and headed towards the door in a slow shuffle. “Hello, officer,” the woman said in a lively voice, “how can I help you?” “Hi… I’m looking for some assistance finding in finding something on your shelves. Diapers, specifically, but in a slightly larger size than would be common.” “Are you looking for adult incontinence products?” the woman inquired. “No, not for an adult, but not for little kids, either. I have a situation involving a child who is about ten, I think. He’s wearing a diaper, but it is really oversized on him, and we need to change it. I want to find something more appropriately sized.” “We have pull-ups down aisle twelve that should work. They’re categorized by weight. Do you know how much he weighs? Here, let me get someone up here and I’ll show you.” The lady picked up a phone next to the cash register, hit a key, and then the subtle overhead music stopped. “Sales associate to the front counter, sales to the front counter please.” Her voice carried across the breadth of the store. A young man who looked like he was about eighteen years old, wearing a beige uniform shirt, and black pants, emerged from an aisle and headed towards the front. Officer Riley and the manager walked towards the opposite side of the store. “I’m not sure pull-ups would work, either – the child has one leg in a very large plastic cast, almost like a winter boot. And given the size of what he’s wearing currently, I think we might need more… capability. This isn’t just a bedwetting situation.” “Hmmm… I see. Let me show you what we have.” As they turned into the back aisle, Officer Riley noticed the woman that had preceded her through the door, standing at the other end of the alley of shelves. She looked up, made a surprised face, and then exited the aisle, turning towards the pharmaceutical counter at the back of the store. Something in the woman’s mannerisms caught the officer’s eye. She’d been a cop for a few years now, and she knew when someone was avoiding her. As to the why of that, well, there could be a number of reasons. She might be shoplifting, or trying to access narcotics, or she might be hiding from something, or, she might not like cops – it could be as simple as that. The way the lady was dressed, the fact that she had arrived in a cab, and that she’d walked right past the officer while she was holding the door, rather than veering off… Officer Riley felt that whatever was up with the lady, it probably wasn’t something worth getting distracted over. Lots of people avoid cops. Justine led Officer Riley down the aisle, reviewing the products on display as she went. “At this end, we have the infant diapers, and then the baby and toddler products, which aren’t what you’re looking for. On the opposite side, we have adult products, but the smallest of those that I’ve seen have about a twenty-five-inch waist, which, it sounds to me, might be too big. Further down......,” the lady trailed off as she took a few strides towards the end of the aisle. “We have the training pants, pull-ups, overnight briefs, etcetera. They’re sized for toddlers, all the way up to one hundred fifty pounds or so. But I have another suggestion, as well… we don’t sell a lot of these, but, one of the specialized brands just launched an intermediate size diaper, for handicapped kids. We keep them behind the counter, because they don’t get included in our shelf planning – they’re not advertised yet.” Justine exited the other end of the aisle and walked up to the pharmacy counter, with the police officer following behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted the tall woman once again rapidly depart from their sight, down one of the middle aisles. I’m going to keep an eye out for her. She seems up to something. However, the presence of the police officer in the store reassured her somewhat. But in a downtown twenty-four-hour pharmacy, anything could happen. “Dave,” Justine said to the short, bald man in a white coat, who was standing with his back to the store, feeding pills into a counting machine, “what are those medium-sized diapers called, the ones we keep back here?” “Run N’ Play,” the man said, looking over his shoulder. “Can you pass me a package of them?” “Sure, Justine – give me one moment.” He waited until a certain number had been reached on the machine, withdrew a green pill bottle, and snapped matching lid onto it, before peeling a label from a sheet beside him, and carefully applying it to the side of the bottle, centered from top to bottom. He walked towards the pharmacy counter and smiled. “I don’t want to forget who those were for.” “Of course, Dave,” Justine said, smiling back. Dave went to the right of the cash register and opened a cabinet door, reaching down into the bottom and well to the back, almost to the point of climbing into the unit. He emerged holding a rectangular white plastic package that had its own clear plastic built-in carrying strap. He deposited it on the counter and pushed it over to Justine, who picked it up with both hands to read the print on the font. Officer Riley, who was taller, read over Justine’s shoulder. Run N’ Play Active Fit Diapers, the package proclaimed in bright blue letters on a yellow background, in a strip across the top of a large panel on both sides. Below that, in smaller letters, the text read Intermediate Youth Diapers – 12 Hour Comfort. Beneath that text was a diagram of the inside of an unfolded diaper, showing Dual Leak Guards and Snug Leg Gathers, plus a Lockaway Stay-Dry Core, Strong, Refastenable, Easy-Change Tabs, Elastic Waistband, and a Moisture-Proof Cottony Plastic Top Sheet. Next to the diagram was a picture of a folded diaper, viewed from the top, showing the cover print options, one of which consisted of yellow giraffes, pink lions, blue elephants, and green trees, all on a white background. The other was simpler, just one large, yellow rubber ducky, centered on the front panel. An arrow extending from the words Wetness Indicator to both images pointed to a yellow line on the lower half of the front of the diaper. On the bottom right corner of the package, in black letters, were the numbers 60 to 85 lbs. +. The bag held 30 diapers, stacked in one row. “Does this look like what you’re after, officer?” The police officer nodded. “I think these will work. If they really last twelve hours then a bag should get him through a few days, anyway. Can I pay for them here?” “Absolutely,” the pharmacist responded, and then picked up a wand and scanned the barcode. “That’s $27.99. The state doesn’t charge sales tax on baby diapers.” “Well I’m glad they don’t!” Officer Riley noted. “That’s not cheap. Although I guess this isn’t a common size.” “Nope,” the store manager replied. “We get them from a clinic just outside the city, that has their own store. They bring them in from somewhere. We just started carrying them to replace another brand that was out of stock for months.” Officer Riley pulled a billfold that held a credit card from one of her uniform’s many pockets, and the pharmacist swiped the card, which caused the machine to immediately beep and print a receipt. “No signature required, Officer.” “I never understand how that works. Sometimes it wants a pin number, sometimes it wants a signature, sometimes the card just taps. Well, anyway, it worked. Thank you both for your help.” Dave nodded and then went back to sorting pills, while Justine gave wave and then went off to look for the woman who seemed to keep dodging them whenever they encountered her. Officer Riley walked towards the exit, carrying the package by its built-in strap, and turned her head to look down the aisles as she turned towards the door. The blond lady was down a middle aisle, intently studying a device in a large yellow box. She glanced at the officer quickly as she crossed the top of the aisle, and then pulled her eyes away just as fast. Curious. But I don’t have time to get sidetracked. Kelly eyed the large, yellow box in her hand, wishing she hadn’t looked up at the police officer. She knew that the cop would be passing by the end of the aisle, as she’d been listening for her distinct footsteps, which were heavy on the glossy floor, because of her shoes. As much as she was feigning interest in the contents of the shelves to avoid making eye contact with the police officer, she was intrigued by the contents of the box. It contained two baby bottles, air lines, a conical contraption with a screw-on lid attached beneath it, and a small round device in a soft yellow colour. A breast pumping kit. She thought about the herbs and the medication she’d picked up from a naturopath, what seemed like a lifetime ago, but had only been a week, when she’d left the kids at he sister’s cottage to run an errand. She hadn’t started taking them yet – everything had been turned upside down by Zack’s injury. This has been one shitty week. I deserve something. Kelly waited another minute, then walked to the end of aisle and scanned the entrance to the store. The cop was gone. The store manager was back at the front, organizing a display. Kelly walked over to counter, carrying the yellow box under one arm, while trying to appear casual. “Hey,” she said to the manager, “can I ask you a question?” Justine looked at the lady. She’d had a glance down the aisle as she followed the police officer out, to make sure that she wasn’t loading her pockets or preparing to rob the pharmacy counter, but when she noted that her attention was on the maternity equipment, her suspicions softened a bit. They were near a large downtown hospital. Maybe this lady was here to support someone who was in the throes of labour or about to undergo a C-section, and maybe her mannerisms and skittish nature were a side effect of the stress she was under. She certainly wasn’t hiding the expensive device she was carrying. “Yes?” the store manager replied. “Have you seen a boy tonight, he’s eleven, he would have been by himself, riding a push scooter, with a cast on his right leg?” Justine furrowed her brow. “Not that I can think of. I can ask the other employees if they’ve seen him. What was he wearing?” “A light blue romper. He has blond hair.” Justine called back to the pharmacy, and ran the description past Dave, who said that he had not seen anyone like that. Then, she paged the part-time kid back up to the front, and he confirmed that he hadn’t seen anyone, either. Kelly responded to the news by turning her head and scanning the store again quickly, as though he might have rolled inside while they were talking at the counter. “Well, anyway, I’ll take this. Does it require batteries?” “No, I think it plugs in, ma’am. Will that be cash or credit?” “Credit.”

Part 1 Grace is getting married and she’s determined not to let Jessica, her husband-to-be’s ex, ruin the wedding. But if this is her big day, why is she being dressed as the flower girl? *** Grace was walking around the reception, greeting her guests, when she spotted her out of the corner of her eye. Jessica. Grace had invited her out of politeness, but she’d really hoped the woman wouldn’t come. What was she thinking, turning up here? Surely she’d known Grace hadn’t really wanted her to be at her wedding! She was talking with Sophie, one of Grace’s old schoolfriends, and Sophie seemed to be listening raptly to whatever it was she was saying. Grace continued to wander around, accepting congratulations and beaming at everyone, tossing her beautiful blonde hair behind her and feeling like the prettiest woman in the room. Eventually she reached Sophie herself. “Hi, Sophie!” she said. “I’m so glad you could make it!” “Hi sweetie!” Sophie said, turning to look at her. She spoke in an oddly high-pitched, overly-enthusiastic voice, like she was talking to a nursery-schooler. “Are you looking forward to the ceremony?” Grace didn’t know what to say. She’d been expecting Sophie to say ‘congratulations’. Why the hell was she talking in such a stupid way? “Uh, yes!” she managed, deciding it was best to just ignore her friend’s odd behaviour. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long! I hope it’s everything I imagined!” “Awww!” Sophie cooed. Grace felt herself going red. Was Sophie mocking her? “That’s so cute! Are you going to wear a pretty dress, honey?” “Uh, yes of course. I… In fact, I’d better go and get dressed now. It takes a while and I need my bridesmaids to help.” “Of course you do,” Sophie said patronisingly. “Well… See you later, Sophie!” “Bye-bye, cutie!” Sophie waved. Grace turned and walked away. What was that about?! She frowned, thinking. Jessica had been talking to Sophie not long ago. Could she have convinced Sophie to talk to her like that for some reason? Grace hoped the most special day of her life wasn’t going to be tainted by some stupid practical joke. But she couldn’t imagine Sophie taking part of something like that. Sophie had never even liked Jessica! It was probably just nerves, Grace told herself, trying to push the matter from her mind. She needed to get her bridesmaids and go into the back to change into her wedding dress. She felt excitement bubbling up inside her. She’d never really stopped fantasising about the perfect wedding, ever since she was a little girl, and now she was finally getting it! And Rob was the most wonderful man she’d ever met. She flushed at the thought of her gorgeous husband-to-be. She wouldn’t see him until she walked down the aisle though. She wanted everything to be perfect. “Good luck, Gracie!” someone said to her as she made her way through the crowd, and she smiled awkwardly back in the general direction of the voice. She hated being called Gracie – she wasn’t a two-year-old for goodness sake! But nothing was going to ruin her good mood today. She was determined of that. She slipped past a group of guests and found the people she was looking for; Olivia, Caroline, and Annie. Her three bridesmaids. At least the three of them were acting normally. They hurried up to her the moment they saw her, looking almost as excited as she felt. They put their heads together, giggling. “Ready?” asked Olivia, grinning. Grace grinned back and nodded. The four of them moved through the guests and into a room in the back of the venue where Grace could get changed. Her wedding dress was hanging on a clothes rack waiting for her. She beamed at it. It was beautiful – pure white, of course, with a floral-patterned bodice and a flowing, floor-length skirt. Elegant and sophisticated, sexy but still classy. The perfect dress. Grace would barely contain her excitement as Olivia, Caroline, and Annie helped her change into it. She couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror in front of her as she was steadily transformed into the bride she’d dreamed about being ever since she was a little girl. She was almost done when Caroline suddenly said “Oh!” “What?” Grace asked, worried something had gone wrong. “Your veil! I think your mother has it. Or maybe it’s still in the car…” “Don’t panic,” Olivia soothed, seeing Grace’s face. “The three of us will go and look for it. I’m sure it’s around. We’ll be right back.” Her bridesmaids left the room, leaving Grace alone. But a few moments later, the door opened, and Jessica stepped inside. “Hi sweetie!” she said, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hello Jessica,” said Grace, looking at her warily. “Don’t you look pretty!” Jessica cooed, but her eyes were sparkling malevolently. “Looking forward to walking down the aisle?” “Listen Jessica,” said Grace firmly, “whatever it is you’re here for, whatever you’ve got planned…” “Planned?” asked Jessica, cocking her head. “I just don’t want you ruining things by trying to make this all about you,” Grace said coldly. “This is a very special day for me.” “Of course it is, Gracie,” Jessica said. Her smile widened. “The wedding couldn’t happen without you!” She let out a light, tinkling laugh, and then she turned and left the room. Grace scowled. Gracie again. And she didn’t like the way Jessica had been smiling. Did she really not have anything planned? They’d been friends once, but Grace had got together with Rob shortly after he’d broken up with Jessica, and Jessica hadn’t liked that one bit. Grace remembered Jessica screaming at her, calling her a big-titted whore who’d stolen her boyfriend. Grace adjusted her large breasts in her wedding dress. It was true she had a better figure than Jessica, but she hardly thought that mattered. She and Rob had been meant for each other, and that was all there was to it. What else was it that Jessica had said to her? Stupid little girls shouldn’t steal other people’s things, that was it. Grace smirked. Rob was hers now anyway. They were getting married and there was nothing Jessica could do about it. She’d only been invited in the first place because it would have seemed rude not to invite her after Grace had invited all her other old friends – it would make it seem like she was the one still carrying a grudge. Grace shook her head. What was she doing? She shouldn’t even be thinking about Jessica right now. Not on her big day! She admired herself in the mirror, picturing how she’d look walking smoothly down the aisle on the best day of her life. Minutes past, and her bridesmaids still hadn’t returned. But just when Grace was starting to get worried, the door opened again. She look around eagerly as Olivia and Caroline stepped into the room, but her smile faltered when they were closely followed not by Annie, but by Jessica. She was holding something white and semi-transparent in her arms. Was that stupid bitch carrying her veil?! Hadn’t she got the message that she wasn’t wanted? But as Jessica stepped forward, Grace realised the thing she was holding wasn’t a veil at all. It was a dress. A very different dress from the beautiful, elegant, sophisticated wedding dress she was currently wearing. “What’s going on?” asked Grace. She’d just noticed that her two bridesmaids were looking at her rather strangely. They were both smiling, but Olivia was shaking her head from side to side, like a kindergarten teacher amused by the antics of a misbehaving toddler, and Caroline was looking at her with the same sort of sickeningly sweet eagerness that Grace had seen earlier on Sophie’s face. “What are you…?” “Come on, sweetie,” Jessica interrupted, and her eyes were glinting darkly. “It’s time to get you into your proper clothes. That’s enough playing pretend. I need my wedding dress for my big day.” She smiled broadly. “But don’t worry. I’ve found something much more appropriate for you to wear!”

Chapter 3: Profiles Arbitrio Sanguinis – LittleFallenPrincess “Hey, don’t blame me, it’s you who couldn’t even handle small talk with vanillas for ten minutes…” “I couldn’t speak like an adult until this morning!” I yelled at my friend, who was sitting on my bed, cross legged in her adorable dungarees and strappy top. She had come over to hang out with me during the day, and more importantly… to find out how the date last night went. With her demonic red skin, her dark horns, her forked tail… It was still weird being friends with a demon. Part of me was worried she loved torturing souls so much that she was now torturing me… But no, she’s my friend. She wouldn’t do that… would she? “Look, if you can’t handle vanillas… why not branch out to human kinksters? There are plenty out there, and they’re a lot more fun than vanillas…” Nia suggested. “I’m not sure, it’s probably the human thing. They’re just so… mundane… so boring!” “Not all of them. Vic is technically human… And she’s kinky and fun and interesting and lovely and gorgeous and wonderful and…” “I get it, you found the perfect Mummy…” I sighed. “Sorry…” Nia said, sounding genuinely upset that she was sounding like she was bragging. “But you know what I’m getting at… maybe you’ll find a human who is into kink? They’re a lot more fun than vanilla humans.” “But where would I start?” “I know of a few kinky social media websites.” “Dating ones?” “Kind of. They can be used for finding partners, but they’re also used for events and munches and everything. Look, this little stuff isn’t the only thing me and my fiance are into… we meet others. Even other humans.” “What are these sites you use?” “Well there are two I would recommend. One human one, and one monstrum one. I’ll give you the addresses of both. Make a profile on each, and find some groups, put yourself out there! You’re a freakin’ cutie, I bet you’ll get loads of hits straight away!” Nia said, trying to compliment me, but just making me feel more anxious at the thought of all that attention on me… “I… maybe…” I sighed. “No, Luce… seriously, you need someone. I can tell. You’ve been getting more and more distant whenever we all get together, and I can tell you’re just wishing you had a caregiver like we do. So if I have to charm you into making those profiles, or even get Bea to cast something on you to make it… I will!” “Fine! I’ll make a profile on both. But I will…” “...Give me the biggest ‘I told you so’ ever if it fails?” Nia replied, finishing my sentence for me. “When it fails…” I corrected her. “IF it fails.” Nia then corrected me, sounding very insistent that it won’t fail. I wish I shared her optimism. And so with her chin resting on my shoulder, looking over my shoulder like some… well, demon… she watched intently as I opened up the human website she suggested first. It looked… normal? Just like a normal dating website, but with lots of mentions of BDSM and kink and stuff. It looks pretty professional, very much like the dating website I had used to find the vanilla date last night. So clicking the ‘Create Profile’ button in the top corner, I took a deep breath, feeling like I was making a mistake. “‘Baby bloodsucker’… no, it’s the human one, so… ‘Totally human baby Lucy’!” Nia called out, trying to suggest some usernames for me. “I… no. Pulling my veto card.” “You’re no fun…” Nia giggled, nuzzling against my neck, making me squirm a bit. “What about GothBaby?” I asked her, as whilst she jokes about and is a massive brat, I still value her opinion. “Pretty generic. Plus you’re not really gothy…” “I am!” I whined. “You have black hair, sure, which by the way… we’re going to discuss…” “What? Is something wrong with my hair?” “No… just… let’s just finish the rest of the profile, then I have a suggestion.” She grinned. “Fine. ScarletBaby90?” I suggested. “Ha… I guess it works. You look like you’re old enough to be born in 1990… no one will realise you mean 1890…” “Exactly.” “Go on then.” “Age… yeah, let’s use 1990. Location… I’ll make it vague and just use the city instead of the exact borough. Roles… umm… baby?” “Baby, submissive, little… Anything close to that really.” Nia suggested. “Kay… now… what am I looking for? A Mummy really…” “Then say that!” “I can’t believe there are actually options for this. This kink is a lot more widely known and accepted than it used to be…” “Okay, Grandma…” Nia smirked. “Oi! You’re like a bajillion years older than me!” “Yes but I’m timeless. And cool. You’re talking like an old woman. Which is surprising for a baby…” I blushed and turned back to the screen. “Fine… looking for a Mummy… and a long-term relationship. I can’t handle flings. I get too attached.” “That’s entirely okay. You can be picky.” She replied. “Now… bio?” “Do you need a change already?” Nia asked. “You know I didn’t mean… ugh, you’re such a little demon…” Nia just grinned at me, not saying a word, clearly proud of her bad joke. So I ignored her and got started, writing my bio, trying to sound interesting but also trying not to give away that I’m a member of the vampiric community. If I was to meet a human… and connect with them how I’m hoping anyway… then I’ll introduce them slowly to the monstrum community. It’s not something you can just outright tell humans, especially not online. “That sound good?” I asked my friend, as she sat playing her handheld console, looking up now that I was finally done. “Blah blah blah, long walks, romantic nonsense… likes being babied and made blushy… Yeah, it’s pretty generic, but it’ll do, I guess.” “You guess? Fine, what would you do differently?” “Let me have the keyboard…” “Rockin bod… good at filling nappies… makes a very good little dolly… NIA! I can’t post that!” I whined at my friend. “Why not?” She smiled, trying to look innocent. “Because! No, let’s go with my first draft. I know it’s boring, but it’s safer to post. I mean come on, ‘loves to nibble’...” “You’re a vampire!” “...” I just stared at her, with the most deadpan expression on my face as I quickly edited everything Nia had typed. “There… posted.” “You’re boring! I make you sound way cooler.” “You said that I’m a secret agent who can only do night dates because of my spy jobs…” “And that’s cool!” “Nia…” I sighed. “Right, I’ll make a small post in an ABDL group…” “You need a profile pic first. Speaking of that… Come with me first!” She quickly grabbed my hand, pulled me up onto my feet, and dragged me into the bathroom… ------------------------------------------------------ “Baby bloodsucker!” Nia yelled out as I sat there, still feeling unsure about my choice. “No! Nia! Just because this is the monstrum site now, I’m not going to use that, plus…” I typed it in the username field and it came up as being taken. “Yeah… see… of course that was going to be taken!” “Bleh. Why not use the same username?” She suggested. “Why not? Because it’s not…” “Don’t dare finish that sentence with ‘not going to work anyway’.” She stared daggers at me. “I… fine. Let’s get this over and done with. You’ve already changed my hair, I want to get this over with so I can get used to… this.” I said, pointing at my head in frustration. “It looks good! You suit being blonde! So much better than your moody goth baby look!” “But I look so…” “Innocent? Adorable? Yeah, Mummies will eat that up! Whilst black hair doesn’t scare people off… a general repellant demeanour will. I knew blonde would suit you more than the other colours I brought, and this way it will mask the general repellant demeanour you give off!” “Where did you even get those dyes? They didn’t look like normal human dyes…” “Beatrice suggested a Witchy friend of hers for hair care, and that woman suggested using those potions of hers to change your hair without damaging it. Hence how you went from jet black hair to bimbo blonde in seconds!” I blushed at how she had described the new colour of my hair. I had always dyed it black, with human dyes, trying not to stand out, but she had a point… I repelled people with my general demeanour, often looking very antisocial. Which, I was, but now that I’m trying to put myself out there… Plus I hate to admit it, but she was right… blonde really suited me. I looked even younger… hell, I’ll even admit I look… adorable. So after we took some flattering pictures of my new look, using it as my profile picture on the human kink website and posting an ad in the group, we moved over to do the same on the other website Nia suggested. I finished filling in my registration details on the kinky monstrum social site, adding a little more information now that I could be a bit more open about my undead state and unique diet. I also got to put in my real age… which was weird. I’m used to lying about my age on forms. Problem of being over 130 years old and an immortal being, I guess. Once that was done, I found the biggest ABDL group on it and posted something in the ‘Looking for Mummy’ section. “Happy?” I asked, rolling my eyes at my bratty friend. “Very.” She grinned back at me. “It won’t…” “Don’t. It will work.” “So what now?” “We wait! I doubt you’ll get a reply straight away…” A notification message appeared in the corner of the screen. “I… got a message? That… was quick! Maybe it’s just welcoming me to the group or something? Maybe it’s an automated thing…” I suggested. “Okay… or maybe it’s ‘Make Nia look like an idiot’ day… well… open it up then!” Nia said, pushing me gently to spur me to action. I went to the inbox to find I had a message from someone already, titled ‘you look good enough to eat’. “In this community, that could mean a lot more than implied…” I commented. “But I’m a vampire. There aren’t any monstrum that eat vamps.” “Open it up then! Her profile pic looks hot!” I opened her message to see a bigger picture of the woman appear on screen, next to the message she had sent. Long black hair, very stern appearance… She didn’t look very maternal. “She’s not even a Mummy… look!” I said, pointing to the roles she had. “She’s a domme. Go for it! She looks hot!” Nia said, excitedly. “I want a Mummy though…” “And a domme can be a Mummy, and vice versa. Trust me, don’t write her off just because she looks scary and dominant. You want at least some of that in a Mummy.” “True… but I mean… she’s not usually my type…” “Trust me!” Nia insisted, egging me on more. “Fine. I’ll read her message at the very least.” I sighed. Taking one look at the message, and her bio, it was clear she wasn’t really my normal cup of tea. For one, she seemed to only have ABDL experience with ‘clients’. And I’ve no issue dating a sex worker, that’s not my problem with her, it’s that it appears she’s only interested in the ABDL side as a way to make money. She seems to genuinely enjoy being a domme, you can see the passion in her words, but when it comes to being a Mummy… she sorely lacked the passion I had hoped to see. Maybe that was my problem, I was hoping to see the world’s best Mummy, like Beth and Victoria… when really they both found their places and discovered their kink much earlier. Sure, they were very maternal before they found this kink, but maybe this domme has a maternal side not shown in her profile? Mistress Serpens: Hi there, little baby. I saw you post on the group and upon seeing that adorable little face of yours, I felt like I just had to message you. I’m looking for a sub to serve me and worship me. If you’re interested, just shoot me a message back. Hope to hear from you ❤️ “Oh that explains it. Look, she’s a Lamia. Hence the joke.” Nia said, laughing awkwardly. “I don’t get it.” “Lamia are half human, half snake. Known to eat children…” “Oh… eww.” “Yeah, old practice that is rare these days apparently.” “Still… eww!” “So… are you going to send her a message?” “Maybe. She said she wants a submissive though. I’m not…” “You are, but no, I understand, you’re not a typical submissive. Still… I think you should at least message her back.” She suggested. “Like I should ‘message that human’...? That idea of yours ended up making me into…” “An adorable dolly?” Nia cut me off, sounding proud of the fact that her actions had caused all that, even if she hadn’t intended for it originally. “You should have seen… wait…” “I did! It was adorable!” Nia laughed. “How? I never said anything about a dolly…” “Beth said don’t share it outside our circle. I’m part of the circle. Sorry ‘Widdle Wucy’.” I wanted to pounce on my demonic baby friend, but I was still blushing too much to be scary. “Fine. I’ll send her a message. But if this blows up in my face…” I wanted to change the subject very quickly at this point, so I was even willing to message this ‘domme’ to get out of this conversation. “I know, I know…” I began crafting a message to this lamia domme, trying to make it clear that I was after a Mummy and not really a domme, hoping that either she gets the idea and turns me down, or she realises what kind of submissive I am and actually wants a little like me rather than a normal submissive. ScarletBaby90: Hi! Sorry, I’m shy and new to this online thing, but thank you for your message! I’m looking for a Mummy, someone who is loving and kind and caring, who will love me and care for me and… But as I got about half way through… I got a notification on another tab… the human one. “Holy crap, she’s gorgeous!” “Yes, Nia, but she’s human.” I said to my close friend, who looked just like one of those old cartoons with her jaw hanging down in shock at how beautiful this woman was that had messaged me. “So?” “And so I’m going to favour monstrum over humans, obviously.” “So message both! Message all three!” Nia said, excitedly. “Three? Who’s the third?” “You got a notification on the monstrum one again.” She said, pointing at the screen. “I did? When?” “Just now! I told you they’d be desperate to snatch you up!” I stared at the monitor, in shock, feeling overwhelmed by the attention I was garnering on these social kink sites… which was both a good and a bad thing. My instincts told me to run away and hide, as I wasn’t used to this attention, and if Nia wasn’t here… I would have probably deleted both of my accounts and hid from the world for a few months, if not years. But with Nia by my side, threatening to spank me if I did try to run… I finished messaging the domme before turning my attention to the other two… ======================================================= -------------------------------------------- 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!

For those who know me I am a little and also a furry. Well, my birthday is next week and my Dadsy surprised me tonight, or rather the company He got my gift from surprised me lol. Daddy ordered me a matching custom set of ears and a tail based on my fursona ref sheet. The tail and ears are remote controlled through a phone app but also can be set to react based on motion and sound. For example, if I tilt my head the ears will react accordingly or if they hear a sound they will orient to the sound. The tail can be set to different programs or to react to body posture. I'm ssoooooo EXCITED!!!

My computer looks like it finally bit the dust, or is going to anyway. It looks like it's hardware failing on it. I went ahead and bit the bullet on a new computer, having Geek Squad put it together for me, since I don't have the knowledge or eyesight for doing that myself. Here are the specs on the new one. Case: Asus Tuf Gaming GT501 Mobo: MSI B450 Gaming Plus Ram: 64GB Corsair Vengeance RGB Pro 3600MHz GPU: PNY Geforce RTX 4060 Ti 8GB GDDR6 PSU: EVGA 1000GT Storage: Samsung Evo 870 SSD 2TB x 2 CPU: Ryzen 7 5800X 8 Core 3.8GHz CPU Cooler: Thermalright Peerless Assassin 120mm OS: Windows 11 Home I love that this case has carry straps, and dust covers. I'm still thinking about getting 3 more fans for the top, as it doesn't have anything there at the moment. This pc is also a LOT quieter than the old one, and even a tiny bit lighter weight too.

With his Mommy needing to head to work Daniel is left in the care of his "sister", Amber. He becomes anxious as teasing him is just about Amber's favourite thing in the world. --- 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 --- Daniel’s padded rear landed on the hard wooden seat of the baby seat and the tray was brought around and locked into place. His legs dangled uselessly beneath him as he waited. A bowl of mushy cereal was placed in front of him whilst Amber got some toast. “Have to be quick this morning.” Sarah said as she sat down in the seat next to Daniel, “I have to go into work this morning.” Daniel was rather surprised to hear that his Mommy was going in to work. She worked from home most days but had to go into the office every so often. Daniel never liked it when she went into the office because it usually meant he was left at home with Amber. “Open up, baby.” Sarah said sweetly, “Open the hangar for the airplane!” Daniel had an almost Pavlovian response to the commands and he opened wide for his Mommy to spoon feed him. He mechanically opened his mouth and chewed everything that was shovelled in, it was all rather tasteless but he was used to bland food. With a sudden jump Daniel felt a pressure against the front of his diaper again. He looked across the table to see Amber smiling snidely as she slowly munched on her toast. She never missed a chance to tease him. If his Mommy noticed what was happening she didn’t say anything as she distractedly and hurriedly continued to feed him. It wasn’t long until Daniel was feeling very frustrated. The toy wrapped around his genitals kept everything very contained but he still felt the pressure, he still felt the rubbing on his ultra-sensitive balls. He was soon blushing as he found himself pushing his crotch out towards the foot for extra stimulation. The desperation clearly funny to Amber who simply withdrew her foot as she finished the last of her toast. “Right, be good and do what your sister says.” Sarah said as she shovelled the last of the baby food into Daniel’s mouth, “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.” “See you later, mom.” Amber said as Sarah gave Daniel a quick kiss on the forehead and hurried out of the room. Daniel looked at Amber with worry. She would never intentionally mistreat him but like all older “sisters” she seemed to enjoy teasing her younger brother. Daniel was still in his highchair when he heard his Mommy leave the house. He looked up at Amber as she pushed her chair back noisily. She went over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle which she banged on the tray of the highchair. “Here.” Amber said sharply, “Drink this.” Daniel reached out his hands but Amber simply pulled the bottle away. He should’ve known better. He let his hands drop down on to the plastic tray and opened his mouth. Amber smiled wolfishly and pressed the bottle forwards. The nipple filled Daniel’s mouth and Amber angled the bottle so the diapered man was forced to look up at her as he noisily slurped on the teat and drank the milk. By the time he was done Daniel was feeling pretty full. Amber unlocked the tray and Daniel automatically reached out his arms. With a sigh Amber leaned in and picked Daniel up with ease. He was sat on her hip with his head against the side of her breast and the front of his recently warmed diaper against her side. He knew she could feel what he had done because she gave him a quick smirk before walking towards the hallway. The pair had only gone a few steps when Daniel felt an urgent need of a different kind. His tummy was feeling full and just like his bladder his body reacted in an automatic and reinforced way. Pushing down with his tummy muscles Daniel pushed his butt out a little. His hands grabbed Amber’s clothing and he screwed up his face. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was Amber looking at him with sudden disgust. “No, no, no!” Amber exclaimed. There was nothing Daniel could do even if he wanted to. Daniel pushed down and the rear of his diaper began expanding. The sticky mush emerged into the seat of his pants and spread around as he kept pushing. He softly grunted as he pushed again, the back of his underwear pushed out a little and he exhaled. “Ugh…” Amber moaned, “Why couldn’t you do that when Mom was here?” Daniel’s cheeks were a little rosy. It wasn’t like he wanted to poop himself like this. If he had the choice he would’ve used the potty just the women did. He didn’t know what to say in reply so he settled for hiding his face against her arm. “I bet you did it on purpose!” Amber accused. “I didn’t!” Daniel replied honestly. Amber clearly didn’t believe him. Daniel winced as he was carried down the hallway, he could feel the slimy mess in his disposable painting his butt and acting as a lubricant causing it to slide around. He could smell what he had done as well, it was a stink he knew well. Daniel expected to be taken up to his nursery but Amber turned the other way and went into the living room. She held him away from her body causing his legs to kick out underneath him before he was lowered into the playpen. Daniel tried to stand but his leg muscles were practically useless since he wasn’t allowed to use them. He wobbled on the spot before dropping backwards. “Ugh…” Daniel grunted as he fell on his backside. The poop in the seat of his diaper splattered all over his butt. Daniel looked up from the floor just in time to see Amber leaving the room. Daniel felt suddenly panicked and quickly flopped forwards on to his hands and knees and crawled up to the fence of the pen. He grabbed two of the bars and put his face against them. “Amber!” Daniel called out desperately, “I need a change!” “As if I’m changing THAT!” Amber snorted as she turned to face her brother, “You can wait for Mom to come home.” Daniel whined and moaned but Amber was already walking out of the room. He reached out a hand but it was obviously useless. He didn’t know how long his Mommy would be at work, he had only the faintest idea how to tell the time and there were no clocks in the living room that he could see. All he knew was that it would be a long time before he could expect Mommy to come rescue him. Time passed slowly when Daniel was in a poopy diaper. The only way he could really measure time was through the cartoons on the television. After two cartoons he was starting to feel uncomfortable, by six he was trying desperately not to feel the itch that threatened to consume him. When the tenth cartoon came on and Daniel ran out of fingers to count them on he knew he had to do something. The slimy feeling in his diaper had spread all over and he was about ready to try anything to get out of it. Daniel crawled to the edge of the playpen and hesitated. The biggest thing keeping him in was fear. He could see the latch his Mommy or sister used and he knew how to open it. He had only done it once before out of curiosity and it had resulted in a spanking he wasn’t soon to forget. He felt like he had to risk that though. He would crawl upstairs and change himself, it wouldn’t be easy but if he spent any more time messy like this he was sure to go mad. With his tongue between his teeth Daniel reached the pen’s gate. The latch was high above him and his weak legs wouldn’t allow him to stand for long but he used his hands on the metal of the playpen just long enough to pull himself up and flick open the latch. He lost his balance and fell back but not before the gate swung slowly open. Daniel winced as he felt the mess all over his rear get splattered against him yet again. He half-expected some alarm to go off as the gate opened, it almost seemed anti-climactic when nothing happened. After a couple of seconds Daniel flopped forwards on to his hands and knees. He started crawling towards the stairs with his bulging rear raised behind him. He tried to keep his eyes out for Amber but in reality if she saw him now there would be nothing he could do about it. The stairs were like a mountain range to Daniel. The stairs, like everything else, was made to the scale of the women which meant that each step was huge a challenge, especially when Daniel’s only mode of movement was on his hands and knees. Regardless Daniel started his trek. By the time Daniel had reached the top of the stairs and crawled on to the landing he had to wipe a sheen of sweat off his brow. He could hear Amber in her room, to be more accurate he could hear Amber’s television. Daniel was pretty certain his sister wouldn’t be able to hear him crinkling past but he tried to be as quiet as possible anyway. Thankfully Daniel’s nursery door was very slightly ajar and he was able to push it open until he could squeeze inside. Daniel saw the floor-length mirror on the opposite side of the room, he was drawn towards it. When he turned around and looked over his shoulder he could see that the rear of his diaper was very discoloured. The changing table was Daniel’s final destination but he knew he was never going to be able to get up there on his own. The shelves underneath were accessible though and he crawled over to gather a spare diaper, wipes and powder. He had seen the women in his life change him countless times, he was sure he would be able to copy them. “What do you think you’re doing!?” Amber’s voice startled Daniel and, for the third time, he fell back on his butt. “I… I…” Daniel stuttered. “Were you going to change yourself?” Amber asked. It was clear from her smirk that she found the very idea of that happening laughable. “N-No…” Daniel lamely lied. “Liar.” Amber chuckled as she walked in. “You wouldn’t change me!” Daniel complained. “You disobeyed my instructions.” Amber shook her head, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be punished.” Daniel let out a pathetic little moan. Amber walked over and pulled the diaper out of his hand and put it on top of the changing table. Daniel winced as his sister knelt down to him but she simply slipped her arms underneath his arms and lifted him into the air. Daniel was sat on the edge of the changing table and undressed. He noticed Amber wrinkling her nose as she stripped him, the smell was something Daniel was used to and he thought she was making a big deal of it. When Daniel was stripped down to just his diaper he was laid back on the changing table. It seemed that his little adventure was going to benefit him in one way, he was getting that change he was so desperate for. “And on your Milking Day as well…” Amber tutted and shook her head, “Maybe I should tell Mom to cancel.” “No!” Daniel exclaimed. Daniel was genuinely worried until he saw Amber giggling. She had no intention of getting his special treat cancelled, she just liked watching him squirm. She took several minutes to clean him and Daniel wasn’t allowed to participate at all, his legs were moved by Amber as she wiped him. To his surprise he could feel Amber fiddling with the chastity device around his genitals. When the rubber toy came off Daniel almost gasped as parts of his penis and balls that had remained locked up was suddenly exposed to the air. “You do need to be punished though.” Amber said with a sigh. Amber turned away from the changing table and Daniel was left alone and naked. With Sarah over by his chest of drawers Daniel lifted his head up and looked down his body. His dick looked so weird unrestricted, he wasn’t used to it. When Amber came back over to the table she lifted up something that, at first glance, looked no different to the chastity cage that had just been removed. It didn’t take long for Daniel to realise exactly what was happening. He made a weak attempt to cover himself up but he couldn’t stop Amber from doing what she wanted. This new chastity device was smaller and had tiny little bumps along it. Daniel recognised it from the various times it had been used in the past, it was typically for when he was naughty. He shivered when he saw it and whined as Amber lowered it down to his crotch. Amber was none too gentle as she started to affix the new rubber toy to Daniel’s crotch. It was generally too small so to get it on and Amber had to really shove things in. He squirmed and whined as his dick was forced against the tighter rubber toy. The tiny bumps felt like spikes as he was shoved inside the tight confines. “It’s too small!” Daniel whined. “Nonsense.” Amber replied, “We’ve got it on you before and we will do so again.” Daniel winced but eventually he felt the tip of his dick hit the end of the rubber tube. Next came the part that wrapped around his testicles. He felt Amber fondling him as she tried to wrap the tight rubber ring around the bottom of his hairless sack. When his balls finally popped through he gave a little yell as he felt a momentary pinching feeling. When Amber stepped back his crotch was tightly wrapped in the tight prison. “See?” Amber said as she stepped back and smiled, “A perfect fit.” --- 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/950577ed-015b-4e2f-bbb2-c06ccbc4aa44 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1278959

My mind literally went there when I first read that sentence about them looking like twins. I guess that's because I'm one of the few who ever take it that far. Nonetheless, this has been a very enjoyable story to follow; one of the few I do follow on this site. Excellent work thus far!

Your story wouldn't necessarily hold up, mostly because of how skilled the doctor is. Like, "teaches other doctors how to do procedures as a leader" kind of skilled. And there might be other options, but from what I've found, they're harder to get done - and harder to make sure you have a support structure in place to make sure you're alright as you do it. I signed up myself for a revision - while my procedure definitely had an effect, it'd be nice to see even more of an effect, and the doctor and their support staff are willing to support it without paying again. That's the difference, I've found. (In fact, I think @Reddy and I have our revisions scheduled for the same date - this will be interesting.

My jaw nearly fell into the dirt at what he said. Had I hallucinated Tav asking to change my diaper? Have the fumes from my own mess gone to my head already? "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I must've misheard you." "Do you want some help changing your diaper?" Tav said. Okay, not a hallucination after all. "I umm..." Obviously I wanted out of this overused disgusting diaper by any means necessary. But I never would have anticipated someone willingly offering to do the deed. "You... Want to change my diaper?" "I mean, *want* is probably a bit of a stretch. But you seem to be in a pretty nasty predicament and I'm the only one who can help you right now. Plus I kinda owe you one after you brought me back from the dead." he traced a finger over the scar on his chest. "Technically you saved my life first. Twice, actually, if you count the wolves." Wait, why did I point that out? He shrugged. "Eh, who's counting?" I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Are you always this selfless? That will get you into trouble one day, you know." A bemused smirk came across Tav's face. "Well hey, if you'd rather I be more selfish, I can rescind my offer and you can stay in that diaper until we reach Baldur's Gate-" "No!" Fuck. He had me dead to rights. And the smile on his face only broadened at my outburst. "I mean uhhh..." it seemed the proverbial Tressym had caught my tongue. The wit he had been admiring only hours prior had all but evaporated. "I just... Was not expecting that you would offer such a thing. It's not exactly going to be a pleasant task..." "I literally burned to death less than an hour ago. You think I'm afraid of a poopy diaper?" He had a fair point. "Well, if you're sure..." I hated that I couldn't stop myself from sounding so reluctant to ask for help. I'd let a Bugbear change me right now if I had to. But I still felt so guilty for some reason. He was willingly offering his help, yes. But that didn't make it any less humiliating that I was about to let a strange man I'd just met today change my diaper. He circled around the campfire to stand in front of me. "So... How do we do this?" "You've never changed a diaper before, have you?" "Nope. But I learn quick!" Honestly I couldn't decide if his cheery enthusiasm was comforting or annoying. I sighed. "Grab a bowl from the mess kit, a water skin, and some kind of rag." He went to grab the supplies while I cleared a spot on the ground for me to lay on. Once cleared, I laid myself down as gently as I could, cringing slightly as the mess squished under my butt yet again. Tav came back over and knelt down between my legs. I couldn't help but catch him recoiling slightly from the smell as he got into position, despite his attempts to hide it. "Okay, now what?" I pointed to the two clasps on the front of my diaper--black circles surrounded by purple rings. Shar's symbol. "Undo those, open up the front and... Get to it, I suppose." A sudden realization caused me to sit up "Fuck, I just remembered: I don't have any spare diapers. That's why I was searching for my pack earlier." In the midst of everything else I had forgotten that not-so-insignificant detail. What I was not expecting was for him to wink at me and say "You let me worry about that. Now lay back down so I can get that diaper off of you." I was a bit perplexed, but did not resist. I eased myself back down onto the ground, staring up at his hands as they reached for the clasps securing my diaper to my hips. I was torn between wanting to watch him closely in case he tries anything uncouth--or just stupid--and wanting to hide my face from him lest he notice how deeply I'm blushing from being in such a humiliating state. He popped the left clasp open followed by the right. I looked down at my diaper, bracing myself for the sight of what I had done in it. Cool night air brushed against my nether as he opened my diaper, sending a shiver up my spine. It was... Not a pretty sight. All of the moving and fighting we did had ensured that my mess had completely coated the inside of my diaper, and a good deal of it still clung to my skin, cooling ever-further in the open air. Tav, for his part, seemed to be taking it well. Although he was covering his mouth with his fist, likely to help block the smell and hide his expression from me. Which I can't say I didn't appreciate at least a little. "Honestly, not that bad. I've slept in places that smelled worse than you do." He said. I couldn't be sure if he was trying to spare my feelings or just making idle chatter. In either case, I didn't have a response for him. Being this open and exposed to someone had a tendency to leave me feeling a bit less talkative. I suppressed another shiver as I felt the wet wipe being dragged over my skin. The feeling was at once horrible and wonderful. Horrible because of the chill in the air, wonderful because I was finally getting clean, and the relief of knowing that was ambrosia to my troubled mind. I'd spent the whole day since waking up on that beech anxious about when I would get to feel clean again. I liked feeling clean, and given my condition I rarely stayed clean for very long. Really, a hot bath would be an absolute dream come true right now. But until we're lucky enough to come across a hot spring, this will have to be sufficient. He scraped the rag off on the ground before dipping it in the water again, and I took the opportunity to lift my legs straight up in the air to give him access to my rear. "Whoa, how are you just holding your legs up like that? My legs would be exhausted after like, fifteen seconds max." he said as he got to work wiping my backside. "I guess that means I must be stronger than you." I spread my legs enough to look at him and see how he'd respond. "Oh definitely. I saw how you smacked that Intellect Devourer out of the air with your mace. That was awesome as fuck!" I smiled up at him. For whatever reason, this man had a peculiar way of... Putting my mind at ease. Most people either loathed me or feared me, but Tav clearly felt neither emotion. He seemed to only hold positive feelings towards me. It felt... Nice. Of course a part of me was still waiting for the other shoe to drop; for him to reveal his true colors and extract from me whatever prize he sought to gain by keeping up this facade. But then again, I'm not sure if I believed he was even clever enough to pull off such a ruse. And if he was, surely he would have shown his true face with his dying breath, would he not? "Aaaaaaand there we go! All clean." Tav said. "Now to deal with your diaper." He picked up my old filthy diaper and held it up, the messy inside facing towards me. For a brief moment I wondered if he was somehow intent on putting it back on me for some idiotic reason. But instead, he made a few gestures with his free hand and pointed at the diaper before beams of orange light lanced out from his fingertip. Everywhere the light touched, shit came falling out of the diaper and onto the ground, along with a steady stream of what I could only assume to be urine. "Are you... Cleaning my diaper with magic!?" On the one hand, such a thing was certainly well-within the realm of possibility. But I'd never seen someone do it first-hand. "You tell me." He said before tossing the diaper at me. Sure enough, it was completely clean and dry, just as it had been when it had first been put on me. "That's... Incredible." I said, still too awestruck to come up with anything more clever than that. "Yeah, it comes in handy. Unfortunately I've found it tends to ware out clothes and other items the more times I do it. So we should still look into finding you some more diapers before too long." I handed the diaper back to him and let him slide it under my butt, bringing the front of the garment up between my legs before re-fastening the clasps. "There. Did I do it right?" he asked me. I sat up and probed the padding a bit with my fingers. As much as I might still hate being stuck in diapers, being in a clean one after being dirty for so long always felt so refreshing. "It's perfect. Thank you." "You are most welcome, m'lady." He said in an overly-pompous voice before reaching out a hand to help me stand up, which I gladly accepted. "Now if I only had somethingto cover up my diaper." I said, looking down at my bare legs. "You don't happen to have a spell that can mend trousers, would you?" "Unfortunately I don't. But I have the next best thing!" he went over to his pack and pulled out a dark brown cloak. "I found this on a dead body. Figured it would come in handy if I needed to look extra dark and mysterious. Or if it was too cold for just my vest... Which I just realized I need to replace now, fuck!" He handed me the cloak and I inspected it in the firelight. It was a simple hooded traveler's cloak, the kind most commoners owned to fend off the elements. It was a bit coarse and theadbare with a few holes in it no larger than pinpricks. But it was a garment that would hide my diaper and that was all that mattered to me. I slipped it on and found that it fell just above my knees. Apparently this cloak's previous owner was a bit on the short side. Not ideal, but certainly better than nothing. "It will do." "Awesome! Next cloak is totally mine, though. Even if it's black. You seem like black is probably your color." Finally in a clean diaper and no longer exposed to any passersby, I felt like a great weight had been taken off of shoulders. I took a deep breath of clean air and sighed contentedly. "Thank you, Tav. For everything. I don't know how I can repay you for all that you've done." "Hey, just keep bringing me back to life when I accidentally kill myself and we'll call it even." "You... Still want to travel together? Even knowing my secret and knowing you'll be responsible for... Changing me?" The blush that had apparently finally decided to die down returned with a vengeance upon saying that. He brought a hand to his chin, pondering that for but a moment. "Yeah, I think I can handle that. Besides, knowing that you need me to wipe your ass for you makes it far less-likely that you'll want to get rid of me the next time my Wild Magic does some freaky shit." I looked up at the upper platform upon which he had exploded. How often did that kind of thing happen to him? What else would this Wild Magic of his do in the future? Was I willing to risk getting caught in the blast next time? "Very well." I said. "I guess we'll continue traveling together for the foreseeable future." "Great! Let's celebrate with something to eat. After all that fighting and dying and crap, I feel like I could eat an Owlbear!" We made a passable dinner out of the few rations we had scrounged on the beach before setting up our bedrolls for the night. We had considered trying to find a place that wasn't a crashed Mind Flayer ship to sleep in, but figured the risk of traveling in the dark and finding more monsters when we were already so exhausted was too great to chance. "We already killed the monsters that were here. That makes this the statistically safest place to camp for the night, doesn't it?" Tav explained. I wasn't sure how to argue with him, being as tired as I was, so I conceded to his logic. The Mistress of the Night would have to protect us if anything came our way. We decided sleeping on the elevated platforms would be safest, although we chose ones on the other side of the crash site away from the dead Intellect Devourers. I was slightly surprised when he chose a separate platform from the one I would be sleeping on, having expected the man to want to sleep as close to a woman as he could manage. Was he just respecting my boundaries or did he have other reasons? I supposed it didn't matter that much. After the day I've had, I could use a little personal space. "Goodnight, Shadowheart." he called from his platform slightly below mine. "Hmm? Oh, goodnight Tav." I responded. It'd been a while since I'd been wished a good night by anyone, I'd almost forgotten the custom. I stared up at the starry sky for a while, marveling in the beauty of it while I tried to process everything that had happened today. I'd been infected by a Mind Flayer tadpole, stranded on a beach with a stranger, and I came close to death multiple times. By all accounts I should be a wreck. And yet... I felt calm. Peaceful, even. Most nights I almost despaired closing my eyes, lest the morning come and bring with it new humiliations to endure. I reached down and felt my diaper--the diaper Tav had put on me. It would need changed again in the morning before we head out. And yet somehow, that thought didn't fill me with quite as much dread as it normally should have. Surely I wasn't getting used to it after so many months? No, not a chance. I hated these diapers with all my heart. Maybe I was just too tired to feel the dread. Yes, that must be it. I'm sure the feeling will return come the morning. But until then, at least I can enjoy this moment of bliss. Wrapped in the sanguine embrace of night, and the cloak Tav gave me, peaceful meditations soon unmoored my mind from the woes of this world. THE END........................... FOR NOW?

Chapter Thirteen “How’d it go for you?” Jen asked, leaning against the hallway wall. Daniel jumped–he hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for him, and her sudden hello shocked him. “Gah! Eh–sorry, you surprised me.” “Oh, sorry! I–sorry, didn’t mean to startle,” she spluttered, shaking her head a couple times. She’d broken her glasses at some point since Daniel had last seen her, and a little strip of tape wrapped around the center. Daniel squinted, making out a slight bit of movement beneath the semi-transparent adhesive strip. “Enchanted tape?” “Spell-o-fix,” she nodded. “I’m not great with fixing spells, so I just keep a roll with me whenever. Great for tears in clothes, too!” “Smart.” Daniel glanced over his shoulder. His coven all had different classes to get to and had broken up when the class had ended, but he’d been tempted to walk with one of them until their paths were forced to split by class schedules. Remembering finally that Jen had asked a question, he added, “I…I actually kind of like my group.” “And that’s a surprise?” Jen asked. They began walking down the hall together, continuing to chat. “Mine were super nice–Candice brought cookies!” “Well–statistically speaking, most of the girls at this school don’t like me, and of the two I was on speaking terms with, one hated me,” Daniel pointed out. “I was worried I’d end up with five Rachels, and that would’ve been a–” “Daniel,” Jen blurted, cutting him off. “Um. You were saying about–uh…crap. Sorry.” Daniel raised an eyebrow at her, noticing too late the discomfort on her face. “Oh.” “You were saying?” Rachel asked, looming over Daniel’s other shoulder. Daniel’s eyes widened as he turned and saw his prefect. He stopped in the hall, shrinking away from her looming presence. “Eh…” “Go on, Danny,” Rachel prompted. “Finish the sentence. ‘Ending up with five Rachels would have been a…’, what?” He cringed away, and Rachel’s smile seemed to spread in direct correlation with his awkwardness and fear. “It would’ve been a…learning experience?” he suggested. Her smile fell, brow furrowing. “Really, you think I’m that dumb?” Raising her voice, Rachel added, “Come on, diaper boy, use your words.” “I…” he started, before steeling himself and standing up a little straighter. He was armed with information he hadn’t known before, and he refused to be bullied. “You’re a bitch, and a nitch, and you’re obviously just mad that a warlock can waltz in here and get twice your score on every test you’ve taken. Seriously–you think I got in here on a fluke? Even if I did, at least my coven hasn’t started looking for loopholes to transfer me out.” Daniel felt pretty good about the monologue. It was all true, which meant it would sink in with far more weight than any snide comments he could’ve made the day before. Rachel reacted as though she’d been slapped. Which is to say, she showed a flash of pain, followed by fury and a desire for vengeance. Daniel no longer felt pretty good about the monologue. “Oh yeah? You want to talk about rejection?” Rachel asked, raising her voice. “I’m not the one who volunteered to shit his diapers just so he’d get to learn his ABCs and fundamental forces!” A crowd had begun to form–girls who heard the shouting and stopped to watch. Daniel swallowed. “Yeah, you’ve got petty authority,” he snapped. “Why don’t you just wave it around so everyone can see? That’ll definitely make up for the fact that your career’s dead in the water as soon as there’s no school forcing girls to be in a coven with you.” Her anger flashed hotter, and Daniel realized with concern that she had at some point taken out her wand, long red ribbon trailing to the floor. “Do I need to remind you about the chat we had before orientation?” she asked. “Hmm? Do you need my help, diaper boy?” Daniel knew she’d do it–she’d make him use his diaper again, for the crowd of watching girls. Still, he couldn’t just back down and submit either, not here, in front of everyone. Another quip rose up to his tongue, an attempt to win the argument with words. “Danny,” Jen interrupted, stepping forward and touching his arm, “we’re going to be late for class, and I’m not showing up to Potions without my lab partner.” She didn’t look at Rachel, but her words were loud enough for the amassed crowd to hear and carried a clear message: She was offering an out, a way to de-escalate. Daniel still wanted to pick a fight, but Jen had offered him a lifeline. A way to not lose, and all he’d have to do was accept not winning. “Get going, spark,” Rachel growled. “Have fun with your babysitter.” (Screw this.) Daniel turned, walking away with fists balled in anger. “Come on,” he said to Jen. A few paces later, under his breath, he added, “We aren’t lab partners, you know.” Jen hissed her response so that only he could hear. “Uh, well, we will be–unless you want to go explain that to Rachel.” “Oh.” Daniel nodded, following along. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome, now don’t prod the bear,” Jen shot. “It’s like you wanted her to get mad.” Daniel checked over his shoulder, feeling a touch paranoid, but Rachel was far behind them, storming the other way. “I don’t want her mad, I just…I can’t just sit there and take it when she decides to make me her whipping boy, you know?” “I guess that makes sense,” Jen said, “But…aren’t you worried about what she’ll do?” Drawing his lips into a line, Daniel nodded. “I mean…yes, obviously. She’s the one who thought of…” He stopped in the hallway, a light popping above his head as an idea came to him. Jen winced away, shielding her eyes. “Er–sorry,” a student off to the side of the hall flicked her wand, and the light vanished. Daniel blinked, shook his head, and kept walking. “I mean…” he began. “She’s a petty bully. She’s only picking on me because I’m the person she has permission to pick on. If I don’t argue, she’d still come up with excuses to get mad.” Jen snorted. “I can’t imagine trying to work under her. Can you? ‘You turned in your TPS report five minutes late, I’m revoking company bathroom privileges!’” (Perfect setup,) Daniel thought, wondering if Jen had the same idea as him. Raising his voice a little more, so that his voice would carry without it sounding like shouting, he said, “You know–it seems like Rachel’s a bit too fascinated with all this baby diaper crap. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was some projection going on there, too.” Covering her mouth, Jen turned bright pink. “No way!” “Yes way,” Daniel said, acutely aware that they weren’t the only students walking down the hall, and that their conversation would be carried to quite a few eavesdropping witches. He knew the power of a good rumor. “Honestly–if it were just diapers, that’s a random prank, but she keeps bringing it up. You don’t just randomly decide to keep playing the ‘Diaper’ note for no reason–unless it’s because you secretly want someone else to do it back to you. I’d bet you your wand that Rachel wants to sniff dirty diaper butts and is just using me to project her gross fantasy.” He didn’t turn to look at the other students, but he heard more ‘snirk’s and short chuckles behind him. Jen giggled, looking like steam might come out her ears if she had to listen to any more of his theorizing. “That’s–do you really think so?” “She made a special window scene in the prefect dorms that permanently displays…erm…” he blushed. His rumor-mongering involved sharing a few humiliations that had otherwise remained private, but he was already in too deep to back out. So, continuing in a stage whisper, he leaned in. “She made an image to look at my butt in a diaper all the time.” Technically, she’d made the window display that image in his room, but he didn’t have to admit that part. Anyone who overheard the comment would assume Rachel had put the window in her own room, if they believed him at all. They both burst into giggles, and Daniel decided to stop there. He didn’t want to over-egg the pudding and make it obvious what he was doing–he just needed to spread a few nasty rumors about Rachel’s private interests. It might not help his reputation–his popularity would have been in the toilet, except that Rachel didn’t allow him anywhere near a toilet–but he could drag Rachel down to his level. They wouldn’t forget he was the school’s diaper boy, but with a little selective pressure here and there, they might begin to think of Rachel as the school’s diaper girl as well. “By the way,” Jen said, as they turned into the potion lab, “I tried to look up a little bit about…erm…the stuff from the other day. With the person. In the room. You know?” “You could be a little less precise, I don’t know if that covers every encounter we’ve had since we’ve met.” Despite his snark, Daniel nodded. “But yes, I know.” “There’s a few history books about the school,” Jen continued. “But–” “Take your seats,” Professor Saito called from the front of the room. The potions lab looked like many a chemistry class from any number of Mundane schools, though instead of glass flasks, six-inch cast iron cauldrons sat on stands over bunsen burners, and instead of neatly labeled chemicals, they had out plastic baggies full of feathers, glittering dust, and strangely shimmering essences. “Oh, right, we should do this,” Jen began, straightening and adopting a smile. Rather than explain, she turned and walked towards the front of the classroom. Daniel didn’t immediately follow, but she turned back and grabbed his wrist, towing him with her. He stumbled and caught up, going with Jen right up to their teacher. “Professor Saito?” The professor, with the silver patchwork of marks along her face, looked none too pleased, though Daniel couldn’t identify what had upset her. Maybe she just didn’t like being asked questions. “Yes, Jennifer?” “Can Danny be my lab partner? He’s…” The professor inhaled sharply, glaring down at the two of them, and Jen trailed to a stop under her withering gaze. “Answer me this question,” she said, raising an eyebrow. When she didn’t ask a question, Daniel nodded. “Go on?” “What,” Professor Saito snapped, her voice strict and harsh, “is the most important rule of brewing?” “Erm…” Jen said, confused. “I…keep a clean work station?” Their teacher began to shake her head, but Daniel jumped in before she could split them apart. “Don’t free brew!” he interjected. “Never free brew, or we’ll get hurt.” The faintest silver line curled up at the edge of the potion master’s lips, and she nodded. “That’s correct. I suppose you can be a good influence on her, Mister Aster. Now, go take your seats.” “Awesome!” Clasping her hands together in a gesture almost like a clap, Jen grinned and nodded, scurrying to find an open work station. “Okay, so it’s–” “Jen?” Daniel interrupted, shaking his head and touching her arm to stop her. “Can you not call me ‘Danny’?” “Oh,” she said, blinking. “Why?” “Well…my mom calls me Danny,” Daniel admitted, blushing. “It feels…I don’t know. I don’t like it.” “Sure, Daniel. Or ‘Dan’? I could call you Dan, I guess…” She raised her eyebrows and blurted out, “Ooh, Niel! Niel is a cool name!” “Just ‘Daniel’ is fine,” Daniel chuckled. “Thanks.” “Okay then, Just Daniel,” Jen snickered. Next to them, Professor Saito cleared her throat. “This is all very touching, but can you please go sit down?” “Right, sorry,” Daniel and Jen both said in near unison, turning. “What were you saying before?” Daniel asked, as they started to walk. “When I interrupted you?” “Oh, yeah,” Jen said, picking up her pace. “It’s just hard to find anything that deep, you know?” “Uh…what?” Daniel tilted his head, confused, struggling to keep up both literally and verbally with his new lab partner. Jogging after her, he asked, “Deep?” “About the school. Because, you know, ‘These kids don’t know what power, blah blah, this place is built on something,’” Jen explained. “But as far as I can find, we’re just built in a big block of ice. That’s it. No ley lines, no fancy magical wellsprings, just frozen water.” Daniel shrugged. “Technically, I think she said, ‘These fools have no idea what they’ve built, if they knew they wouldn’t have let these children toy around with such power.’” Jen gave him a funny look. “You remember it that well?” “I mean…yeah, it was pretty important.” Looking out at the ingredients and tools set on the potion bench, he began to mentally categorize them. “So…reading was a dead end, then?” “Only in the main library,” Jen clarified. “But it’s not the only place with books–it seemed like there was more to the school’s history, it’s just not publicly available. Plans, blueprints, all that kind of stuff.” Daniel nodded, half paying attention, putting together the puzzle as he replied. “And where can we find that stuff?” “We’ll need a teacher’s pass,” Jen explained. “Uh-huh…” (It’s… We’re brewing a deadspell tonic.) He smiled, picking up one of the shimmering packets, identifying the contents as merflakes–a prime ingredient in potions that would deaden magic and make untamed spells safe. “Daniel,” Jen interrupted. “Are you listening?” He looked at her, nodding. “Yes, I just…sorry. Got sidetracked, I wanted to know what our class would be about.” “Distracted by classwork.” Jen stared, her eyes large and pretty behind her glasses, which had almost completely repaired themselves in the ten minutes since they’d bumped into each other. “You know you’re a bit weird, Just Daniel Aster?” “I won’t contest that,” he replied. “So–why do we need a teacher’s pass?” “To get more books,” Jen explained, leaning in conspiratorially. “We need to get into the restricted section of the library.” ... Between Ream and SubscribeStar, I've managed to get my income to about 75% of where it was before ABDL content was deleted off P*treon and I had to move platforms. I'm incredibly grateful for the support my readers give me, and I'd love to be able to go from writing part time to doing so full time. If you'd like to help make that dream a reality, consider donating a couple dollars! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl/

Seventy-Nine It took a day or two for things to get back to ‘normal’–whatever that was–in the wake of my mother’s visit. Her visit hadn’t actually been that long overall–she stayed overnight at a local hotel and I got breakfast with her the next day before she went back home. But her brief presence had left a mark. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust Mommy anymore–I couldn’t hold it against her that my mother could be quite insistent, and Mommy had probably made the right decision in getting the both of us in the same room at the same time. Still, I was a little sore that I had been blindsided like that, and had unconsciously begun giving Mommy the cold shoulder. She reacted to this by giving me the space I needed–which was probably the best thing she could’ve done. I decided to use this quiet time to myself to reflect on where I was and what my goals were. My meeting with my mother had actually worked out to be a good thing, as it felt like something I could cross off of a mental list. Previously, its presence on the list was a dark spot–one of the highest hurdles I’d need to jump, and because it felt so insurmountable, it made the actual process of ‘growing up’ feel like a fool’s errand in the end. But…it had happened. I talked to her. We had a good talk. Did my mother know that I wore diapers and was treated like a baby by my boss? Well…my mother certainly knew something, though she had mostly avoided admitting how much she knew. Also, she refrained from passing judgment. I was sure she had lots of thoughts about the situation–but she was able to keep them to herself. Which, at the end of the day, was probably the best I could hope for. With that done and out of the way, the future suddenly seemed a little easier. I was feeling good. Things were happening. I was getting out and socializing. I had a job again. I didn’t have to think about the awkward conversation with my mother anymore. I could see a path before me, and I was excited about adult things again. Paychecks, and grocery shopping, and using ATMs, and cooking dinner for myself, and reading a book, and… I started to wet my diaper, and the thick padding warmed and swelled between my thighs. This wasn’t the first time I involuntarily used my diaper while thinking about the future, though I could never be certain if it was just coincidental timing, or if planning ahead too much just caused my body to expel itself. For most of my time at Mommy’s, I never really needed to think about when, or if, I needed a diaper change. That was up to Mommy–or whoever was handling me on behalf of Mommy. There were still times that I waddled about without any care for the condition of my diaper, though they were getting fewer and fewer. This diaper, though, felt uncomfortable. The way it sagged. The feeling of the moist padding pressed against my skin. I needed out of it. “Mommy?” She was in the kitchen, chopping up some vegetables. There was a time when she didn’t cook very much. So rarely, in fact, I just assumed that she either didn’t like to, or didn’t know how. More recently, she had started to use her kitchen more often–and for more than just making coffee or chilling her wine. As it turned out, she seemed to be a pretty great chef. “Baby,” she answered with a smile, looking up from the cutting board. “I’m, uhm…wet.” She snickered and set down the knife. “I’m not surprised by that. I am a little surprised you wanted to tell me, though.” “I just…” I actually wasn’t sure what to say. I knew how I felt, but I didn’t know how to express it. “Are you uncomfortable in your wet diaper?” she asked. I nodded. “I was reading an article about potty training recently,” Mommy said. “It was talking about the signs that your toddler might be ready to start using the potty. One of the signs was a toddler’s sudden disinterest in staying in their dirty diaper.” I felt myself blushing, equally amazed and humiliated how easily I could be seen as an authentic toddler interested in potty training. “Do you think you’re ready for the potty, big boy?” “I…well, I think I could use it, if I had to.” Mommy let out a loud “Ha!” as she walked past me, grabbing my hand so that she could lead me to the nursery. Soon, I was in a spot I knew better than almost any other space on the planet–on my back, on my changing table. Much like the way that beds and couches would slowly form little grooves and depressions from where you sat on them often, I had a groove in the plush padding of the changing table. My body just kind of snapped in place, and it was always a source of comfort to me. Like: This is my spot. It was meant for me, and this is where I belong. The spot still felt good to me–I was sure that it would always feel good–but I just wasn’t as interested in wiggling myself into the grooves as perfectly as I usually did. Mommy pulled the tapes up and opened the diaper. “Pretty wet, but I’ve seen wetter.” “D-do you think I should’ve waited?” “Nope,” she smiled. “I trust you when you say you need to be changed. I mean…I thought that was my job but…” She shrugged and pulled a moist wipe from the container so that she could slide it across my skin. It was hard to read her. She didn’t sound upset, but I knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t completely overjoyed. I imagined that it was hard for her to see me ‘growing up.’ I wondered if it was all that different from how my actual mother felt when I was getting older. They’re happy for their child, but sad that an era was slowly coming to an end. I was reminded, again, of the conversation I overheard her having on the phone a bit ago–the one where she confessed to not knowing what to do with herself after I moved on. I had spent a lot of time thinking about what she had said–wondering if the best move was to just stay a baby for the rest of my life. No, that probably wasn’t going to work. It’d stop being cute eventually–like when I was old enough to need a routine colonoscopy. Was Mommy’s happiness after I left my responsibility? She interrupted my thinking: “So? Should we start thinking about taking potty training seriously?” “Maybe?” It occurred to me that I was kind of scared of potty training. It wasn’t the fear of the toilet itself–it was the fear of leaving behind something that had been such a big part of my life. It felt like my entire personality–my entire existence–was tied to diapers. “As much as it pains me to admit it,” Mommy said, “I think it’s a good idea.” It seemed that we were on the same page about that, then. “Do you, uhm, think it’ll be hard?” She laughed and shrugged. “We’re entering new territory for me, Clarky. I imagine it won’t be all that hard…I assume you had a few good years of experience in using a toilet already.” “Uh, yeah,” I said. “Man…that feels like a long time ago, though.” “It’ll be fun,” she said, bundling up the soggy diaper and tossing it into the bin. “Fun?” “I’m thinking we’ll make you a little potty-training chart,” she said. “It’s important to keep track of your successes and failures.” I remembered back when we were in the old office–just before Thomas Pritchard blew everything up, actually–when Mommy showed me the spreadsheets she used to track my diaper use. I wondered if she still did anything like that now that I lived with her, but maybe it didn’t matter. Seeing a potty-training chart mounted on the wall of the nursery, however–that mattered. I was blushing just thinking about it. “I…I don’t want to give up diapers forever, though,” I said to Mommy, thinking of Ava. “I just…” “You don’t want to be dependent on them,” Mommy nodded. “I understand. But, no, I doubt you’ll ever be done with your diapers. Once a baby–always a baby.” “So…how do we do this?” I asked. “How do I…get potty trained again?” It felt like a silly question to ask as she was unfurling a giant diaper and tucking it under my bottom, but that’s just the way things were. “I’ll work on that,” Mommy said, shaking a bottle of powder over my caged cock. She even gave the metal cage a little poke. “If you can show me that you can use the potty reliably…maybe I could be convinced to unlock you.” If anything was going to motivate me to start using a toilet again–that was probably it. Especially now that…” “So,” Mommy said, as if reading my mind. “How are things with that girl you’ve been talking to? Paige?” “She’s…good.” We had been consistently texting with one another, but I’d been a little hesitant to make plans with her. I wanted to see her again–but that felt risky. I had no doubt that Paige wanted to get inside of my diaper–just as I’d have liked to get into hers. But it felt complicated. There would be discussions needed about my diaper. About Mommy, maybe. And top of that…well, I was still pining for Ava. “You’ve got that look on your face,” Mommy said as she taped my diaper into position. “It’s funny, because you make a similar expression when you’re troubled by something as you do when you’re pooping. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell which it is.” She leaned in a little closer to my fresh diaper and gave it an exaggerated sniff. “I’m pretty sure you’re not pooping.” “It’s just hard,” I sighed. “It’s hard to just be, like, a normal guy with Paige. I’m afraid to spend time with her, because all I can think of is how the more she knows about me–the more of a freak she’ll think that I am.” I hoped for Mommy to offer some advice, but instead she just nodded. For a moment, that seemed like all I was going to get–though she eventually opened her mouth. “I’m not sure what to say, Baby,” she said, taking me by the hands and pulling me up into a sitting position on the changing table. “I think you need to do what’s best for you. Just know that whatever you want to do–I’ve got your back.” “Thank you, Mommy.” I’d spend a good part of the afternoon thinking about Paige, and what my next move was. What I needed was an excuse to see her–but in a setting where things couldn’t get out of control. Something social. In public. Something like a double-date, with another couple–just as Lyndie had suggested a few days before. It was starting to make sense to me–an opportunity to spend more time with Paige, while not putting myself in a position where I’d have to expose too much of myself. Maybe–assuming I could get all parties to agree to it–this would buy me some more time with Paige until I was less dependent on diapers…and my chastity. I pulled out my phone and texted Lyndie: Me: “Hey, do you think Ava would actually be interested in a double-date with me and Paige?” Lyndie: “Uh…YES. She and I talked about it already. I know for a fact that she’d be down.” Me: “You two actually talked about that?” Lyndie: “Clarky, we talk about everything.” Me: “Okay, so what do I need to do to get this ball rolling?” Lyndie: “LOL. Well, first of all, I’m not your personal assistant. Reach out to Ava yourself, dum-dum. Tell her what you want to do.” That probably should’ve seemed obvious, but my social skills were still a little lacking–and maybe they had never been that great to begin with. I would reach Ava, but there was a more important step that needed to be taken care of first–I’d need to make sure Paige was onboard with the idea of going on a double-date with me and my friend. Me, to Paige: “Hey! So…just out of curiosity… Let’s say that a good friend of mine has been pressuring me to go on a double-date with them and their boyfriend. Do you think you’d be interested in something like that?” It was a lie–which I wasn’t especially proud of, but it felt like a much more reasonable way to throw the idea out there instead of the truth: “So, I’m terrified of spending time alone with you, so I’m going to wrangle my friends up and use them as a temporary buffer.” The worst she could say was no–and I told myself that I wouldn’t panic about it until she actually responded to me. Paige: “Wow. So, our second date is me meeting two strangers?” Me: “I totally get that I’m asking a lot. I’m not expecting you to want to - I’m just throwing it out there.” Paige: “I was being a little sarcastic, sorry. Look, if it’s important to you, then I don’t mind doing it. I assume they’re pretty cool if they’re your friends, right?” It was flattering that she thought I was cool enough to have cool friends, but I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. Yes, Ava was very cool. So cool that I wanted to make out with her. But that’s not something I could say to Paige. Me: “Well, I don’t know my friend’s boyfriend all that well, so we’d all be meeting some strangers. But it’d mean a lot to me if you’d come with me.” Paige: “Then say no more, baby boy. I’m in. Do you know when yet?” Me: “Not yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.” That seemed easy enough–and now the hard part was out of the way. All that was left was to propose the idea to Ava–who, from the sounds of it, was already onboard with it. Elsewhere in the house, there were curious sounds. Amidst the texting and waiting for responses, Mommy mentioned that she had to run some errands and would be back in a little bit. It sounded as if she had returned, and was tearing open some packaging–a cardboard box from the sounds of it. Intriguing, but unless she was calling for me, I doubted it had anything to do with me. She had recently mentioned wanting to get a new lamp from the foyer, and so I just assumed she had finally picked one up. I’m sure she’d show me later. I hesitated over the text I was going to send to Ava for a bit. I’d write a few words, change my mind about them, and then start over. I wanted to sound excited about the idea, but not so excited that it sounded like I just wanted to show Paige off to Ava. I wanted it to sound like I was just as–if not more–excited to see Ava than I was to introduce her to Paige. I might as well just tell her that I’m in love with her. Instead, I sent this: “Hey! Lyndie recently mentioned that you and Caleb might be interested in going on a double-date sometime. It’d be nice to see you, and I’d love to introduce you to my friend Paige.” And…sent. I immediately had doubts about introducing the concept of Paige as my ‘friend,’ though it wasn’t like I had any other way to describe her. My friend-who-also-seems-into-diapers? My not-quite-girlfriend-but-maybe-later-after-I-get-my-chastity-removed? ‘Friend’ seemed just fine. I decided to go downstairs to see what Mommy was up to. I was walking now–which usually didn’t seem like something worth pointing out, except that I had only recently decided to start walking at home more often. Usually, I just crawled. I kept waiting for Mommy to ask me to get down on my hands and knees again–or to, at the very least, ask why I wasn’t crawling–but she hadn’t said a word about it. In the meantime, I just found that I needed to be a little more conscious of my steps as I walked. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. I almost toppled over on the steps. It was a silly thing–just one step moving ahead of the other a little too quickly–and something I was able to correct before a disaster occurred, but it was a little reminder that I still had some adjusting to do before I fully gave up the baby life. “Hello, sweetie,” Mommy cooed from the living room. “Come here. I want to show you something.” I swallowed nervously and slowly waddled down the hall to the opening of the living room. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. “I was originally thinking I’d just put this in the nursery,” she said, pointing to an object on the floor. “But the beauty of this thing is that I can put it anywhere I want.” At first, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking at. It was a plastic…something. A toy? It dawned on me, at last, as to what it might be. It was…a child’s potty chair. A purple plastic seat that sat low to the ground, with a little well in it where one would deposit their…well, whatever it was they needed a potty for. As best as I could recall, I had never seen one in person–and if my mother used one with me when I was that age, I would have no memory of it. “What do you think?” she asked. “Y-you…got that for me?” “Mmmhmm,” she nodded. “I figure that if we’re going to do potty training, we need to do it right.” “I mean…I know how to sit on an actual toilet,” I said. “Sure. But this is cute.” I couldn’t argue with that. Just looking at the tiny little piece of plastic made my cheeks darken. And it wasn’t hard to see where Mommy was going with this–she wanted to have as much fun with potty training as she did with keeping me in diapers. “So…how do you see this working?” I asked. “Do I just…use that instead of the toilet?” “Well, I’ve been reading about potty training toddlers, and they say that you should sit your child on the potty chair regularly–every two hours or so. The idea is to acclimate them to not only using the potty, but to get them in the habit of holding it until they are sitting on the potty.” “That’s actually kind of smart,” I shrugged. “I mean…if I was a toddler.” “Are you not?” “I…uhm…” Since I just changed your diaper a little bit ago, I won’t make you sit on it now. But, soon enough you and Ms. Potty here are going to be very well acquainted.” “Ms. Potty?” “A cute name, right?” “I guess…” I stared down at the purple potty, trying to imagine myself sitting on it. I supposed it was possible–the potty’s seat didn’t have any sides that I’d have to stuff myself into. I would just look completely ridiculous sitting on it–probably more so when I actually used it. And I already knew that she’d be making me use it. “I think it pairs nicely with this,” Mommy said, holding up the next new purchase. The packaging read: ‘Potty Training Chart with Stickers!’ “Oh.” “See? It’s got all these little stickers in it, and we can keep track of your progress with it. See? A sticker in this column means you asked to use the potty. A sticker in this column means you made your pee-pees or poo-poos in the potty instead of your diaper. There’s also a column we can mark if you were able to wipe yourself, instead of having Mommy do it for you. And a sticker in this column over here means that you even washed your hands when you were finished using the potty–a very important step.” “I…I know how to wipe,” I said, my cheeks feeling even warmer now. “And I always wash my hands.” “I suppose we’ll see what the chart says after a week or two, huh?” Mommy shrugged. “Let’s not get too cocky yet.” I sighed, nodding my head like the obedient boy I was. “You don’t think it’s…too small?” “No,” she said, looking down at the potty while shaking her head. “I think you’ll fit on there just fine. In fact…let me just see something.” She unfastened the drawstring of her tight pants and, without any hesitation, pushed her pants and panties down her legs, past her knees. Then, she slowly and carefully lowered her ass down onto the potty chair. “Oh wow,” she said once her buttocks finally made contact with the plastic seat. “It’s even lower than you think it’s going to be. But look–it’s supporting me just fine. I fit right on it. I’m sure you’ll fit on it even better than me.” I couldn’t help but gawk at what I was seeing–I loved seeing Mommy being playful like this. I still daydreamed about the day we crawled around her house together while we both wore diapers. “Well,” she continued. “Since I’m here, I might as well take care of some business.” I almost asked her to elaborate, but I quickly realized what she meant. And, if I didn’t figure it out for myself then, it probably would’ve come to me once I heard the telltale sound of water trickling and puddling inside the potty chair. She was using it. I was staring down at her as she nonchalantly pissed into the tiny potty. “Ah,” she said. “Much better. Yes, I’ll think this’ll be good for you. Now, can you be a dear and go fetch Mommy something to wipe herself with?” “Of course,” I said. I ran to the bathroom, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and waddled back. “Good boy,” she cooed. “Now, do you think you can be trusted to wipe Mommy clean?” “Y-yes. I can do that, Mommy.” “Good. Here you go, then.” She lifted her body up–not entirely standing, but squatting above the potty chair. I reached beneath her with the paper, carefully dabbing her with it at first, but then moving to a wiping motion–pulling the wad towards me as I hugged the curve of her body. “I think that’ll do it,” she said, stepping forward from the potty chair and pulling her pants and panties back into place. “You can throw that toilet tissue for Mommy, yes?” I nodded. “Yes. And what about the, uh, potty chair? Do you need me to, like, empty that and clean it out?” “Hmm. Good point, Clarky. Something should be done about this little puddle I made, huh?” I started to reach down to grab the potty chair. I had no idea what I was going to do with it once I had it. Dump it into the toilet, maybe. Though…I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there was a small part of me that wanted to hold the plastic container up to my nose to take a big sniff of her fresh piss. She stopped me before I could grab it. “I’ll take care of the cleanup for this,” she said. “I know just where to put it.” “Oh, where were you thinking?” The answer was actually pretty obvious, I just needed another second to think about it. As soon as I saw the mischievous smile on her face, I knew exactly where she’d be dumping that pee. “Stand still, Baby.” She reached down to the potty chair, and was able to detach the little bucket inside of it from the rest of the chair–a feature that probably made cleanup a lot easier. Now, it just looked like she was holding a plastic bowl of pee in her hands. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I offered no resistance as she pulled down my pants and opened the waistband of my diaper just enough so that she could tilt the bowl into it. Steadily and carefully, she spilled its contents into my diaper, watching to make sure that not a single drop was spilled. I could immediately feel the warm liquid rush past my cock and gather between my thighs–causing all the padding along the way to swell. It soaked the diaper in way that was a little different from when I’d wet it–causing the weight of it to feel dispersed differently. I would’ve given anything in that moment to not be locked in a cage. “There we go,” she said, pulling my pants back up. She thrust the bowl into my hands. “When you have a chance, give that a good washing. Then you can put it back into the potty chair for later.” “Yes, Mommy.” And with that, I waddled away–a more pronounced waddle, given the need to adjust to the way Mommy’s piss sat in the diaper–ready to wash out the potty chair’s bowl that I’d only be dirtying myself later anyway.

Hey everyone! Sorry for the late posting, but family birthday celebrations and getting sick right after does not make for the best of editing mindsets. For perspective, I wrote the final little bit of this chapter last night, and despite being only about three paragraphs long, it took me almost 40 minutes. Oh well, but the nice thing is that due to a few plans being pushed or cancelled, I should be able to pop out several more chapters in a row. If everything goes how I want it to, this story should be complete by next week sometime. And for those wondering or just reading about the Diaper Dimension, just to clarify, in the DD, it’s often canon for Bigs to go a little crazy with their Littles once they begin to bond with them. Breastfeeding only speeds this process up, and I know most of my caregivers have been nice to their Littles in past stories, but they are usually the exception to the rule. So, before anyone goes to think that Nancy was replaced with a robot or something like that, she was a good person, but bonding with Emma has brought out her more negative personality. I clarify about a few things in this chapter and the next few, so just keep reading and questions will be answered. Next, as a reminder, I’m now polling between two stories to figure out what I should write next. The two choices are listed out in chapter 2, so be sure to check them out and let me know. As I will announce my winner in my last chapter, that would be the deadline for you to make your opinion known. As usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 11: Life Can Be Both Terrible and Fun Sometimes A battle had begun in the one place that was supposed to be safe. After so long fighting with mainly Nurse Bee, she was now gone, and Nancy had resorted to other methods to fill in the gaps of her absence. The ‘Tanassum’ crate had contained enough FOY to last up to a year and my nightly absorption of the lighthouse all took its toll on me. If it wasn’t for my renewed progress at the daycare, I had no doubt that I would have ended up back in the Burrows room once more by now. So, yes, I was at least grateful that I wasn’t locked-in as I once was, but now, my progress seemed to yo-yo based on the time of day. In the late nights and early mornings, I was losing progress. Concepts became simpler and lessons just learned seemed to vanish in a puff. During the day though, I surged ahead and struggled to relearn and hold onto what I could. It was exhausting, but I knew I just couldn’t give up. Not now after I had been through so much already. Maybe ten years ago, I probably would have just sunk into the muck of the fate that Nancy now clearly wanted for me. I knew it was her hormones playing havoc with her personality on one level, but that existence didn’t appeal to me whatsoever. So fortunately for me, in recent years with movements like the pro-Little societies cropping up everywhere, more Bigs were becoming amenable to keeping Littles safe. And, while nothing is a guarantee in this society, I felt that Nancy was pushing her luck with how she was treating me. I felt that it was just a matter of time until something happened to change my life, but until then, I just had to endure the cycle. Being Sunday, the weekend cycle was much worse than those days when I went to daycare. There was no reprieve for me or surge of my faculties. From Friday afternoon to Monday morning, it was all FOY shots, lighthouse trances, and Nancy’s little games with me. The games had begun when Nurse Bee was around, but Nancy had amped them to a completely different level now. Anything I did was scrutinized and either praised or punished, accumulating or being doled out right on the spot. Sometimes this meant that I could receive a treat or a massive spanking at night, but both boiled down to just how much of a Little I acted like. It didn’t take long for me to try and emulate being the best Little I could around her, whether I liked it or not. “Morning, baby,” Nancy said deceptively sweetly as she flicked on my nursery lights and came over to me. Her tone was very sweet, it always was in the mornings lately, but I knew by now it was only that way due to her satisfaction that she knew that now would likely be the time I was most regressed for the whole day. As a result of the lighthouse and some lingering effects from nursing from her the previous night, all I really could manage to say back, was “Na-eee,” in my attempt to call out her name and just proceed with the day. She knew what I was trying to say, but she wanted to milk my current state for all it was worth. “Oh? I didn’t quite catch that, honey. I think someone’s just a little too little right now to form any big girl words, huh? Oh well! Mommy’s got you, baby. Let mommy fix everything, okay?” I remained motionless and silent as Nancy soon picked me up and hauled me over to the changing table. Nancy referring to herself as my ‘mommy’ only occurred in private, but it still bugged me. There was a reason she kept that type of name private as technically, she was still only my caregiver based on state law. She hadn’t adopted me, and with some of the new laws, portal Littles couldn’t be immediately adopted anymore. I still had to be under her care for another month at least until something like that occurred. So, until then, she should have just referred to herself as ‘Nancy’ to me. As I was laid down on the changing table and Nancy began to undo my sleeper from last night to get at my likely heavily soiled diaper, I knew the only exception to the general ‘mommy rule’ was if I referred to her as such, as Nancy referring to herself as my ‘mommy’ was considered a breach of consent. Even in this messed up society, consent was getting to be an important notion for factors like that. So, as such, a regressed Little commenting themselves over the title of their caregiver was just seen as cute. “Oh my!” Nancy exclaimed as she began to peel back the layer of my onesie to reveal my diaper underneath. “Someone’s got a smelly tushie. Yes they do! Yes they do!” I squirmed in discomfort over the notion of my once again heavily soiled diaper. Our nightly nursing sessions had essentially pulverized any hope I had of ever getting out of diapers again by now, and part of me had even accepted that, but I still hated how Nancy always made sure to emphasize it. She then patted my butt, and I could just make out the squish down there. “Ooh! Someone made a big old messy for mommy to clean up. I bet you can’t even really feel that though anymore, can you? Can you even smell it anymore?” She grinned and knew full-well that I couldn’t anymore. It didn’t even take long, but when one’s diaper is nearly constantly wet and those types of smells just become your everyday world, one has very little choice but to get used to them. “I’ll take that as a no, huh? Just like a little baby…” I squirmed in hatred of the woman above me and just willed the time away as she proceeded to change my diaper. It was so strange how I once held her in such esteem, and her hormones causing the change or not, I knew she had crossed a line a long time ago. I doubted that I ever really could forgive her for still trying to turn me back to how I used to be. Regardless, some quick wipes and Nancy soon popped me over to the bath. I could at least feel my limbs and neurons firing back again, so I wasn’t fearful of drowning like I used to be but being so naked and scrubbed thoroughly by Nancy with my bath, it was still one of my least favorite activities. I think by now I would probably kill someone or eat the vilest of mush in exchange if I could just be able to luxuriate during a bath once more in life. Instead, I was stuck with the rough-scrubbing Nancy who made sure to still comment on my helplessness and babyish lifestyle every chance she could. Still, the moment was soon over, and after a quick rediapering back in my nursery, Nancy selected out a multi-colored checkered summer dress that barely went down to my knees. Between the high waist and billowing shorter hem of the dress, I knew full well that it would practically be a miracle if I didn’t flash my diapers off at least once today. My only consolation with the outfit though was the frilled straps at the top and the small white sandals she then attached to my feet. Being a Sunday, I knew the park was a guaranteed trip and I knew that I at least wouldn’t be sweating all day. With a little peck on my forehead, Nancy then picked me up and carried me downstairs to my awaiting highchair for breakfast. Of all her new little habits with me at home, this was actually one I didn’t mind too much. When I was just walking about normally, the stairs were a pain, but doable. Now, with my less than stellar coordination and balance plus the addition of my thick diaper, the stairs were one difficulty that I was just happy to avoid now in my life. And that’s I think why all this rubbed me the wrong way. See, my time in this dimension had a severe and profound impact on my life. Whether I wanted it originally or not, I knew that things would never be the same. My attention span had definitely dropped, my reading ability was still subpar, and my potty training… well, there was none. So, I knew I needed help in my life now, but Nancy didn’t want to help me. I mean I guess on one level she did, but she more wanted to control or dominate me now. If she only assisted me in life and occasionally held my hand when I got scared, I would be okay with that type of existence, but scenes like the one at breakfast showed me that she just wanted more power over me. “Open wide, baby. Let Mommy feed you your num-nums this morning,” she tempted me as she waved the purple rubbed coated spoon in front of me, now loaded with a heaping of peach and spinach. The peach addition made it bearable, but Nancy’s baby talk to me made this one of the low points in my day. On the other hand, I knew if I didn’t comply, my bottom would soon find itself red and blistered from even the guaranteed spanking that would follow. Not seeing any other option, I opened my mouth to accept the revolting mush that was my breakfast. “Oh, that’s it. Someone wants to be mommy’ best behaved little girl, huh?” She scooped inside the jar again. “Now, open up for mommy again, baby.” I complied with her demands again, and so the routine went. She would command and I would obey. For someone like the new Nancy, this power dynamic seemed to almost thrill her to no end. For me, it was torture, but for her, it was a game. Often, she would even ‘accidentally’ miss my mouth and smear it with the goop or have it land back down on my now ever-present bib. “All done!” Nancy finally announced as I swallowed the last of the revolting mixture. She then produced a baby wipe and roughly removed the remaining residue over my mouth. “Stop squirming Emma, or should I get Mister Spanky out again?” she asked, her eyes quickly turning fiery, using her name for ‘big sting.’ Not wanting to give her another excuse to punish me, I quickly shook my head and then remained absolutely still. Nancy smiled back wickedly. “That’s a good girl for mommy. Isn’t it just so much easier to do what I say?” I didn’t say a word, but in my head, I just wanted to fight back with all I had. I wanted to leave Nancy for good by now, but for the life of me, I didn’t know how. So, as a result, any hope of escape or transfer to another caregiver was fading a little more with each passing day. My stomach soon wretched as it digested the mush that had been deposited there. Nancy picked me up and plopped me in the baby bouncer she had erected in the family room for me. I could toddle around inside it, but I absolutely hated how my diaper rode up right where I didn’t want it to. Nancy turned on the TV and then looked back at me. “Okay, baby. You finish this bottle and watch your show while mommy goes and eats and cleans in the kitchen. Just cry if you need anything.” Not expecting a response and likely even hoping that I would cry for her, she left the bottle in front of me and retreated back to the kitchen. I quickly began to down the milky substance before me. Despite the mixture being presented in a baby bottle, I eagerly took it to wash down all the filth that remained in mouth. The grainy texture and odd combination of the baby food from my breakfast was a lot to take in at once, but the bottle, filled with who knows what, was at least a tiny reprieve. My stomach soon bloated, and I knew that my currently at least relatively clean diaper wouldn’t last much longer. A short time later, Nancy was finished in the kitchen, and I was done with my bottle. As she prepared for our traditional outing to the park, where Nancy would meet with some of the other strict caregivers she had met since her new persona had emerged, I sat back and watched more of Princess Poppy. Now, I was at least glad I could follow the story plots more than I once did. Before my shot at the zoo, I would only understand about half of it, and my attention would quickly deviate. Lately, it had been one of my few mercies here at home away from Nancy where I could just forget all my troubles, even if only for a moment. “Okay, baby. Daylight is wasting! Come on!” In seconds, Nancy plucked me out of my bouncer and placed me in my new stroller before heading outside. She had purchased the contraption after I started moving around more. Before, she was often too busy, and I was too immobile to really go outside safely. Now, she wanted to show me off to the other caregivers at the park. Since I got freedom out of it, I never put up a fuss, despite the infantile look that Nancy had heaped upon me within moments. Arriving at the park, Nancy unstrapped me and let me run about a little bit. I wasn’t exactly sure of her plan today, but as my bowels clenched and I dropped on all fours, that wasn’t the case anymore. Her plan was simple but effective as my diaper soon sagged and ballooned outward as I messed myself helplessly. Sadly, while before I would have whimpered or even cried, I knew I had no control whatsoever now, so dirtying my diapers was just part of my routine now. I just braced for the embarrassment I knew was sure to come. “Awww, look at that. Babygirl’s makin’ a messy right in her diapie,” Nancy cooed at me as she looked on with a look of absolute glee. She had to clean me up and that was always a nice consolation, but once again, I knew she wouldn’t afford me any dignity in it either as I saw her set the changing mat right on top of the picnic table. As I finished and Nancy soon retrieved me from the ground, I thought back to all the times I once protested this type of treatment. While I always detested the changing stalls, they at least afforded me some privacy. Being out here in the open, I knew that anyone watching would forever identify me as a helpless baby. I guess to some extent I was now, but privacy was something my at least somewhat adult mind still craved. It was one of the few things that I gained back after the shot from Omega Force that I had not enjoyed. A flip up of my short dress and the scritching of the tapes on my diapers was my cue to shut my eyes and just block everything out. Nancy would try to take every opportunity to clean me up and humiliate me as much as possible while she changed my diaper. Closing my eyes though got everything done relatively quickly. If they were open however, Nancy was sure to show me my previously loaded diaper and belittle me as nothing but a baby with her evidence prominently displayed before me. I didn’t want to give her that satisfaction. “Oh! What a big load you deposited!” Nancy exclaimed as she unfolded my diaper down and lifted my legs high to begin the wiping process. Closing my eyes prevented some humiliation, but Nancy’s persistence still shone through more often than I would like. “Such a smelly, smelly little baby I have on my hands. Good thing I got these extra absorbent diapers for you, huh?” I didn’t respond back, and by now, I knew that Nancy didn’t expect me to either. It was almost a bargain between us of sorts, and it was one I respected to the letter. Less interactions with her meant less ammo she could use on me later if I ever made a mistake or broke one of her numerous rules. Still, her heavy use of creams and baby powders didn’t go unnoticed by me, but I just endured it all as she soon wrapped me back up in a thick diaper and helped me sit up. I opened my eyes and was just thankful a crowd hadn’t gathered around this week. Last Sunday, I couldn’t say the same, but from the group of Bigs I had seen Nancy with last week, that possibility had only been a near miss as they were approaching once more. I wondered if Nancy was disappointed that she couldn’t humiliate me in that way this week. It was a small victory to disrupt her likely plans, but it was still something for my fragile mind to hold onto in this world. Sensing the others coming over and the likelihood of them making my life difficult, I knew I had to take my shot in escaping first. “Nancy? Can I go expwowin?” Nancy looked up from her reorganization of my pink diaper bag and gave me a look that almost seemed to scream ‘no.’ Determined though, I added, “It’ll jus’ be neawby. I pwomise.” Nancy sighed but ultimately nodded her head. “Okay, baby. Not too far. Don’t go beyond the playground on one side or the hill on the other. Got it?” I quickly nodded in acceptance of the nice but relatively small area she had give me to work with today. She then helped me off the picnic table, but before I could toddle off and to my freedom, Nancy grasped my shoulder and spun me back around to face her. “No wondering off, Emma. I mean it. Don’t tempt my patience today if you know what’s good for your bum tonight.” I quickly nodded and just as her friends arrived, she smiled and let me go. It was just in the nick of time too as I saw many of the pro-Big women begin to gather around and gossip with Nancy. “Oh my! Did the little miss dirty her britches?” “I don’t understand why you let her run off like that. Immobile Littles are so much better!” “Ever think of taking her to the doctor and getting a few modifications done? I’ve heard it’s all the rage now in Atlanta!” Each of their comments froze me to my core. Seeing their Littles one day was enough to send anyone into a depression of their own. Having been here for years under their sadistic rule, most, if not all, were heavily scarred and mentally regressed. If any of them knew their names, I would have been surprised. So, wanting to stay as far or as out of sight of them as I could, I soon ducked behind some bushes. “Emma…” I spun around and tried to look for the source of where the faint, but clear, noise had come from. For a moment, I thought I was going crazy, but I heard it again. “Emma… go in the bushes, Emma… Don’t worry about Nancy, Emma… Follow my voice.” Okay, now before this world, I would have either been adamantly against going or just straight up run away from something like that happening to me. In a world of seemingly magical stuffy’s, adults being treated like babies, and portal travel though, my imagination and trust of the unexplained or odd was never higher. So, curious, I followed the voice a little more until I came to a different bush a little closer to the playground this time. I then parted some of the branches in front of me and walked into the bush. Inside was cramped for a moment, but to my surprise, the untangled space of the interior soon grew bigger to the point where I could have probably almost stood up. Instead, two clusters of odd-looking leaves and twigs turned around. “Hello, Emma. How are you today?” “Bree!” I shouted in relief over seeing the commander of Omega Force once again. I felt I owed her everything in gaining my mind and many of my abilities back in such a short period of time. The daycare would have eventually worked, but their shot gave me the edge I had needed over Nancy’s sinister plans for me now. “It’s good to see you again, Emma,” she said smiling at me, her camo outfit slightly rustling in the breeze passing through the bush right then. “I see you’ve taken well to our shot… though… maybe not as well as we might have hoped you would have by now.” “All in the clear, ma’am” Martinez noted behind her. He too wore a complete camo suit as he listened in on his radio and used a camera clearly perched above the bush likely to keep an eye on other Bigs and even Nancy for me. “Thank you, Martinez.” She then turned back to me. “So, what’s happening? Can you report anything since we last met?” I nodded and explained everything about what had happened since the zoo. “… an’ Nancy has jus’ been getting’ mo’ nasty to me evuh since Nuwse Bee lef’ an’ then gave her the dwugs.” “Hmmm…” Bree mused. “Our reports said the same, but do you remember the drug she gave to Nancy, and that I’m assuming is now being given to you?” I nodded again. “Yes. Ih was FOY.” I could tell that Bree instantly recognized the name. “I’m sorry to hear that. That stuff is nasty to any Little taking it. Very potent and even a street drug in some forms. I honestly think it’s a minor miracle you haven’t gone permanently over the edge if she’s really injecting you with it every night… and you said nursing as well?” I nodded. “Geez. You must be very tough or have a guardian in your corner somewhere to have been so resistant to all that muck.” I thought back to my magical stuffy, Patch. I knew he had to be behind my near miraculous continued recovery since Nancy had begun her evil work on me. I couldn’t prove it and every time I told someone about him, they just laughed. So, I just stopped telling people directly or even caring about the why at this point. I really just cared that it still happened and kept me sane against what Nancy was doing to me. As long as Patch remained my stuffy at daycare, I felt I was still at least somewhat safe. “And you said earlier that you weren’t sure where Nurse Bee had gone off to?” Bree asked after a moment fo entering a few things into the computer on her wrist. I nodded. “Yeah… jus’ some pwace called Jimbo? Jingles? Juvenile?” My memory was still spotty in places unfortunately. “Wait,” Bree stopped me in mid-sentence. “Do you mean Juventas?” I quickly nodded and Bree’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful, Emma. That’s good work. Very helpful for our other branches to track her down.” I felt so happy to be receiving praise for once outside of the daycare lately. I used to get new compliments and praise all the time from Nancy, but that hadn’t happened in so long unless I had done something particularly babyish. It was still better than her alternative attitude toward me, but not by much, especially when one of those instances was me helplessly going potty in my diaper. “Boss…” Martinez started up, while still watching the little device in front of them. “Nancy has started to look around. I don’t think we have very long.” Bree nodded at her communications specialist and then turned back to me. “I know all this is difficult Emma, but I just want you to hold on. We’re trying to see if we can find a way all around this where we can get you safely out from Nancy at this point, but we keep hitting some roadblocks.” I sighed, but it was still some bit of hope. “Danks fo’ at weas twyin’.” Bree smiled and rubbed my shoulder. “I know all this must be challenging to deal with, and it’s even harder now that Nancy is in her Big psychosis state of mind,” she explained. “It’s not recognized officially yet, but Bigs hormones can go crazy after they bond with their chosen Little. It can radically change their personality, and while some become only kinder and more caring, others can become stricter and more controlling. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you which Nancy has become…” Sadly, no, she did not. Bree then shifted and I could tell that her and Martinez soon had to leave. “You’re doing good work for us, Emma. We’ll work the problem on our end and find you a way out of this if we can.” I wanted to remain strong in front of her, a fellow Little who even pust most Bigs to shame, but it was hard considering Nancy’s strong negative influence in my life. “Iss jus’ weally, weally hawd. I wan’ to be stwong, buh… I jus’ don’ dink dewe’s a way ou’ anymo’…” Bree smiled sympathetically and rubbed my shoulder again. “Have some faith, Emma. There’s always a way out with these things given enough time, but you need to stay strong until then, okay? Can you do that for me?” It took everything I had, but I eventually nodded. “Emma! Emma! Where are you?” I heard Nancy shout angrily from nearby outside the bushes. I turned to see what was happening to see if she was close by but when I looked back at Bree and Martinez, both had vanished into the wild once more. Now determined to be seen again to possibly prevent a future spanking, I crawled out of the bush again. Curiously, there was a ball in the bush that hadn’t been there before. ‘I wonder… did Bree give me this?’ I shrugged my shoulders and soon emerged on the other side with it tightly clutched in one of my hands. Nancy was frantically looking around and soon spotted me. “And just what do you think you’re doing, huh? I couldn’t find you!” She then grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. “I asked you a question, Emma. Where were you?” My legs trembled, but still holding the ball I had found, I lifted it up to show her my alibi. “My baw… it wolled away…” I tried to make myself look as innocent as possible, and while at first, I wasn’t sure if my ploy was even going to work, Nancy soon backed off. “Hmmm… I’ll give you a strike one for that instead of punishing you today. You better ask me before you disappear again, or you’ll be in a world of hurt. Got it?” I quickly nodded my head before she let me go and walked back off to her cheering and smiling Big friends. Each had seen what had just happened and each seemed proud of Nancy for how she handled it all. ‘Monsters…’ I then walked off and sighed. I wanted to fight back and tell her that she was being ridiculous, but I had quickly learned that was about the second biggest mistake I could have made, beyond running away from home. Any fight in me that Nancy saw was always sure to be smothered out in the most brutal of spankings when I got home. So, determined not to get any more strikes today, I toddled over to the swings and sat down. I wasn’t alone however, for very long. “Heyya. You o’ay?” a Little asked as he sat down next to me. His dark hair and green eyes were very striking, and his tannish white bunny was also very distinctive. I had seen him in daycare before, but he was considered one of the more leveled-out Littles now and had been assigned to the Oasis room with the others like that. I really could only nod my head, but he seemed deadest on trying to help me. “Imma Chawwee… I seen you befo’ at daycaeh.” He then extended his hand out that wasn’t holding tightly onto his large stuffed bunny. I nodded and shook his hand. “Emma. I seen you awoun’ befo’ as well…” We then started to talk for a while, but not long after, the woman Big I had usually seen him with came right over, smiling the whole way. Unlike Nancy now, she was dressed a little more plainly, but there was an intelligence and kindness in her eyes that was unmistakably that clearly marked her as a bonded Big with Charley. From what Bree had told me though, I felt absolutely confident in saying her bonding had manifested the kinder and more caring version though. “Heya Charley,” she said cheerily to her Little. “You and Hop make a new friend today?” Charley nodded enthusiastically and I felt good knowing I had made another friend here as well. “Yeah! Dis is Emma, Mommy. She’s wiff, uh, Nancy… Dat one fwom da ottuh day…” The woman’s eyes grew big, and it was clear that Nancy’s poor reputation now in the daycare had been spreading. Her morning searches of the daycare for bugs and devices blocking my regression were becoming the gossip of town. Some seemed to admire her while others thought she was crazy. It was clear which category Monica fell into. So, it wasn’t exactly surprising when “Oh…” was about all she could say. It made feel so low being associated with Nancy lately, and I guess it showed on my face. The woman’s own quickly became sympathetic and she crouched down and extended her own hand out to me. “Hello Emma. I’m Monica.” I smiled and shook her hand back. “Goo’ ta mee’ you, Monica.” I wasn’t really sure what to say after that though, but I could see that both Monica and Charley were thinking something together. Finally, Monica broke. “I know the type of Big Nancy is, and I’m sorry if I’m speaking out of turn here, but are you okay? Do you need help or anything like that maybe?” Now I really didn’t know what to say. I could lie and go on my merry way, or I could tell the truth and face the consequences. Foster care and being put up for adoption were best case scenarios in that case, but after rumors that Nancy did nothing to stop, I was nearly convinced that any failures or rejected candidates were shipped off to Garden State Hospital. For perspective, Nancy would have seemed like a blessing compared to that truly terrible place. So, determined not to have that happen, I shook my head. “No… I’m okay... dank you dough…” Neither seemed convinced, but Monica sighed and seemed determined to get me to smile. “Well, let’s see if we can’t turn that frown upside down.” Without warning, she immediately started making fun faces at me. Charley soon joined in and wasn’t as good, but in minutes, I was howling with laughter from their sheer silliness. After a little bit, Monica finally seemed satisfied and stood up before rubbing Charley’s back. “Okay, hun. I’m going to start packing up, but I just wanted to give you the warning that we’re going to need to leave soon to get to that play you wanted to see tonight.” “Da one wiff aww da puppets?” he asked, his voice full of hope and excitement. It was almost hard to even remember those feelings anymore. Monica chuckled. “That’s right, sweetie. You just keep talking to Emma for now though.” Her eyes seemed to arc up and down a little bit as if there was some kind of inside secret between them, and while I was a little sad to be left out, I just continued to try and swing. Monica then left and Charley and I got to talking. First, I just had to know about the Oasis room, and apparently, it was completely magical in all its technology and theme. The room was actually two and was split into two themes. The main Oasis room was essentially just a beach and jungle theme with several water features built into the flooring and walls hidden behind a near transparent glass of some kind. Cubbies and other bits of furniture were adorned like jungle trees or rocks and beautiful flowers grew everywhere. Then, for naptime, the lights were turned off and everything changed to an under the sea theme. Trees became coral sprouts and grassy rocks soon looked like they were sunken beneath the waves. I wanted so badly to go, but I knew that would be a long time away… if ever. “So, Hop, huh?” I asked pointed to his ever-present stuffed bunny. For a moment, I thought I swore that I saw him look right at me, and I briefly wondered if he was magical too like Patch was, but Charley spoke back up to answer my question. “Yeah… he’s wike one of bestess fwien’s. He’s jus’ da bes!” Charley then paused and looked over at me with first suspicion and then an odd curiosity. “Don’ you have one?” I quickly thought to Patch waiting back at the daycare for me to return to him. It was utterly ridiculous on one level, but no matter how hard I tried to act mature, I just couldn’t let him go. “He’s… back at the daycaeh…” “Oh…” Charley said, now seeming a little guilty. “You should ask Mrs. Giwwies abou’ gettin’ him to take home wiff you… dey weally can help out a lot… especiawy if youw sad an’ aww…” I nodded. “He’s jus’ so gweat! He’s a doggy and even had widdle wightnin’ bolts on his wegs…” Charley suddenly became confused and then angry. “I used ta have a doggy wik dat too… I woss him…” “Oh no!” I couldn’t believe my ears that a fellow Little could lose their stuffy. I wanted to run off and form a search party immediately. Fortunately, Charley stopped me just as I was getting up. “Iss o’ay, Emma. He was a bad dog anyways…” His once angry demeanor quickly turned to sadness. I didn’t like to normally pry, but still, I just had to know what he was talking about. See, with my magical stuffy, I thought Patch would never be bad in his life. His job was to protect and just be there for me. Like with all stuffy’s… ‘Right?’ Curious, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Wha’ do you mean by dat?” Charley sighed and almost seemed on the verge of tears. “He… he huwt me… wike Nancy an’ you. Mommy told me aftuh she foun’ out. By da time we dih… I didn’ even wan’ him back, so no sadness fo’ me. Buh fo’ you, jus’ be caewful…” I nodded but I knew that Patch would never do something like that to me. We shared a bond, and he was practically my guardian in daycare and in my life now. “I’ll wemembuh dat fo’ Patch…” Charley quickly got a look of confusion. “Wai… my doggy was named Dash. It can’t be him, buh’ that iss his name… o’ at weas ih was…” So, with both of us eventually agreeing that it was just another stuffy entirely ‘Right?’, I had a revelation about Charley. He wasn’t the smartest or the nimblest of us Littles, but he had something that others around here sorely had a burning desire for: hope for the future. I knew I had a lot to do in order to figure out the system still and get to where Charley was at in order to have fun in this life. His circumstances were also definitely different than mine, but I also felt I just had to make sure that I avoided all the obstacles wherever possible on the way to that new dream of mine. That was the hope inside of me trying to breakthrough, but there was another side to all this as well I just couldn’t ignore. As we both swung on the playground, for a moment, I had felt a tiny ray of hope in my fight against the dictatorship that had now become my life. Speaking of which though, I then saw Nancy glaring at me as she quickly stomped over to us sitting on the swings. Seeing my time was short, I eased on back into my swing with the push to just enjoy this time as much as I could. So, for now, I just leaned back in my seat and went higher and higher. Seconds later, I was all laughter and joy with my new friend at the park. Life often didn’t come with such surprises as finding a new friend out here, so I just hoped that my nice feeling would last for as long as it could. Considering what was likely to come, I remembered back to what Bree had told me, and eagerly waited for the right time to flee or to stay strong and hopeful as I waited for Omega Force to help me out in their own way. Nancy still loomed in my life, but no matter what happened later tonight though, I was just glad I had met Charley and Hop. It wasn’t even for long in retrospect, but again, it was that tiny something that I felt made my whole life now just a little more bearable. I wasn’t sure what was next, but considering the fiery hatred seething in Nancy’s eyes as she stomped over to our location at the swings, I knew there would likely be another punishment in my future tonight. I just hoped I could hold on a little longer before something truly terrible and permanent happened to me.

I wasn't potty trained at all til I was 4 and I wore diapers to bed every night til I was 8. (Same with little sister by almost 4 years) Sometimes I also got diapered in the day. Sometimes for accidents (that weren't always really accidents hehe) and sometimes I just asked my mom to diaper me. Mom loved changing diapers and was generally happy to oblige. Mom always said we were still babies as long as we wore diapers even just part-time and since babies can't change their own diapers so she always did it for us ????

Hi witch kind of ab/dl story is your favorite? 1.forced regression story - the main character is forced to regress mentally/physically by accident or punishment 2.ab/dl person caught in action - an ab/dl person secret is discovered and he/she is humiliated by the person who discover it. 3ab/dl person have a fun - an ab/dl person met someone with ab/dl desire or went to ab/dl place

Thank you very much! It's gone down a few odd rabbit holes here and there. haha Jennifer groaned into her pillow and lifted her head to stare at her alarm clock. 3: 58 in the morning. Good, she still had two and a half-hours till she had to be up. Step. Step. Creak. Step. Step. Creak. Footsteps were pacing outside the hall. Hortensia, she thought blearily and let her head fall back on her pillow. Her aunt's treatment of her growing up had given Jennifer a complex when it came to confinement, so if Hortensia felt she needed to get up and move in the middle of the night, Jennifer had said she was more than welcome to. As long as she didn’t go downstairs, that was. Needing to wiggle around a bit was one thing, but sneaking downstairs to play video games on a school night was another. The memory of last night came sharply into focus. She had been so startled by everything going on, she had pulled Hortensia silently along downstairs, and without a word to each other, the two had stayed up playing Mario Kart until two in the morning. The air was so thick and tense between them it sat like physical weight in her stomach and lungs. And then she remembered the break ins… What if it wasn’t Hortensia in the hall? She strained to listen. Could it be a man? Step. Step. Creak. Step. Step. Creak. And then nothing. Jennifer held her breath. The figure was standing right outside her bedroom door. Please, just cough or make a noise. But the house was eerily quiet. She needed to know for sure. As she approached the door to peek outside, the footsteps hurried away, followed by a door slamming shut. It was Hortensia…Probably. But she felt compelled to check anyway. There was no going back to sleep until she knew the girls were safe. She walked down the empty hallway, first checking on Matilda who was sound asleep, a flashlight beam on her bed revealing an open book sprawled next to her. Caught reading past her bedtime again it seemed. She picked up the flashlight to flip it off but decided she could use this instead. If Hortensia was asleep, she’d go downstairs and double check everything. She opened the door and shined the light in all the corners, searching for intruders. No one in the closet. No one under the bed. The room was clear. She began to tiptoe out, casting one last glance at the girl pretending to be asleep. She quickly went through the rest of the house, double checking the doors and windows before heading back to bed. She stopped in Hortensia’s doorway again and peeked in. The girl rolled over, exposing her back with the blankets pulled up over her head. Jennifer went in and gently closed the door behind her before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She sat and listened to Hortensia’s sporadic, uneven breathing, much too erratic to pass for sleep. Finally, after a few minutes Jennifer said softly, “You don’t even like pickles.” Hortensia began to cry. Jennifer shut her eyes as a look of pain crossed her face. No confusion. No “What are you talking about?” Only tears. “Why?” was all Jennifer could say. “I don’t understand.” “I was hungry.” A small, timid meek sounding voice replied. Gone was the attitude and contempt. Why? Why! “I have been trying for weeks to get you to eat!” Her voice was thick with emotion. All the frustration, the fighting, the worrying, for what? “Do you not like my cooking that much? I have done everything! I have-” she stopped herself. She was about to unload on this kid. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I want the truth, Hortensia. Have you, or have you not, been breaking into my neighbor’s houses?” “I didn’t break anything!” “Have you been entering people’s homes without permission?” Silence. “Hortensia!” “Yes!” The girl cried. “Were you doing this for fun? Were you trying to see how far you could go without getting caught? Was this some kind of game to you?” “No!” “Then why? Why would you do something so stupid and dangerous for food you don’t even like when we have perfectly good food here?” Jennifer demanded. The girl refused to answer. “Do you really think I’m poisoning you?” Nod. She sat quietly on the bed for some time trying to process this. Hortensia had insisted on eating lunch in the cafeteria, despite complaining all summer about the school’s terrible food. She only ate individually wrapped snacks, hardly touching anything prepared for her. She had even caught her swapping plates with Matilda on multiple occasions, citing her own portion was too burnt, despite not a trace of black that Jennifer could see. She had passed it off as Hortensia being purposefully difficult, or a quirk, like Matilda’s insistence that food couldn’t touch on her plate. Why? Why on earth would she think this? “I. Am. Not. Poisoning. You.” She said firmly, before sighing. “Are you talking about your medication?” “You’re putting it in my food, making me have those episodes.” “Hortensia! No, I am not putting anything in your food! If I was, do you think I’d be fighting with you every morning and evening to get you to take them?” “It’s for show.” Hortensia muttered matter-of-factly. “I don’t know why you’re having these episodes. I want them to stop just as much as you do! Why do you think I’ve been taking you to all these doctors?” “For show.” Hortensia said again. Jennifer put her face in her hands trying to fight the urge to cry. This went far beyond a kid’s imagination running wild. “Tens,” Jennifer whispered, “I’m trying to help you. I would never do anything like that, I lo-” “Don’t!” “Why does this upset you?” “You say it to everyone; it doesn’t mean anything.” While it was true she did often say it to the children who came up and gave her a hug at school, and yes, there were a lot of them, couldn’t Hortensia see that she was loved by her actions? Or was that asking too much of her? “Of course I love you. Of course they aren’t empty words.” “I don’t want you to love me.” Hortensia said so quietly Jennifer wondered if she had heard wrong. What kind of child didn’t want to be loved? “Everyone needs to feel loved.” Jennifer said after a minute to think it over. “Life can be very lonely and miserable without it.” “I’m miserable now.” “And you think me not loving you is going to help?” Hortensia was silent. “Why do you feel this way? Why don’t you want me to love you?” “It makes me feel bad.” “But…why? Love isn’t supposed to make you feel bad.” “I don’t know!” Hortensia cried. “It just does! It makes me feel bad inside.” “Can you tell me more about it?” Silence. “Tens?” “I don’t know! I’m not lying! I just don’t know!” “I believe you. Take your time.” “I know what I’m supposed to feel,” Jennifer nodded and waited for her to finish her thought. “But all I can think of is my mom. I feel like…I’m doing something wrong, and not in a fun way.” Jennifer frowned. “I think what you’re describing is guilt.” “I guess.” Now they were getting somewhere. “Do you think allowing yourself to be happy with us would somehow hurt your moms feelings?” Nod. “Oh, Tens.” She said sadly. “I don’t think she’d want you to feel that way. The thing about being a parent, well, a decent one anyway, is that you want the best for your children, and you want them to be happy, even if it means you’re not the one doing it.” “Huh?” “What I mean is, just because she is alone and unhappy right now, it doesn’t mean she’d want that for you, especially not with everything you’ve been going through. Stop trying to shoulder this on your own, please.” Jennifer said before she whispered. “It’s breaking you.” “I’m not like Matilda.” “You don’t need to be. You only need to be you.” “You’re not my mom.” “I’m not, but that doesn’t mean the three of us aren’t a family.” “I-I don’t want a new family! I want my mom!” “I know you do…” Jennifer said sadly. They both sat in silence for a few more minutes before Jennifer stood up. “Try and get some sleep.” “Jenny?” “Yes?” “Never mind, It’s nothing.” “Tell me.” Hortensia shook her head. Jennifer paused in the doorway. “I…leaked.” Hortensia mumbled. “And I don’t have anymore nappies.” Jennifer internally groaned. She had asked Hortensia just yesterday how she was doing on nappies and she had said she was fine. “How bad?’” Jennifer asked. “Do you need new sheets?” She flicked on the lights and sighed. Yes. Yes she did. “Were you even wearing a nappy?” “Yes!” Hortensia huffed out offended. “It was just crooked or something.” “How is it that crooked? Take off your pajamas, they're soaked.” Jennifer rolled her eyes when Hortensia kicked her pants off. No wonder. The sides were absolutely shredded. “How long have you been wearing that same nappy?” “Just today.” “It looks like you’ve tried to pull it off ten or more times! There’s no way you’ve only been wearing it today.” “It’s a pain to get off and on. Why do you think I take so long in the bathroom?” Hortensia grumbled. “Because you're playing your Gameboy.” “No, I’m not!” Hortensia said, but her averted eyes told another story. Jennifer gave her a doubtful look. “You do crosswords” she grumbled. “I don’t run in the bathroom just to do crosswords when I know I should be working on school work.” Jennifer said. “Look, it’s late. I have some nappies in my room. You can clean all this up in the morning. C’mon, you can sleep with me.” Hortensia silently followed along, standing awkwardly to the side as Jennifer dug the box out from underneath her bed. She tried to cover its contents with her body as she fished a nappy out of a package. “What is all that?” Hortensia asked, peeking over into the box. “Oh, hey, it’s those nappies. I like these one’s better.” Jennifer looked up from the box, surprised. “You do?” Jennifer asked, eyebrows raised. “Even though they're…childish?” And not discrete whatsoever. “They're comfy.” Hortensia said. “But I wouldn’t wear them during the day, it’s hard to walk normally.” Well, that was because they were made to make you waddle on purpose. Brian had asked her to try it and she had. Once. It wasn’t for her. Now the box of adult sized baby paraphernalia sat under her bed gathering dust. “Is that a…?” Before Jennifer could stop her, Hortensia’s arm had shot in and pulled out a very large baby bottle. “It was Amber’s things for convalescing.” Jennifer said, taking the bottle from her and throwing it back in the box. “Huh?” “She was very sick and couldn’t eat solid foods, so she drank out of a bottle.” Jennifer had no idea if this was true or not. “Okay, and this…?” Hortensia held out a giant pacifier. Jennifer grimaced. “For seizures, now put it back.” “Oh, I thought she just liked being a baby, that’s why she had two ghosts.” “Two ghosts?” “Yeah, Amber the grownup and the other one.” Hortensia said before rolling her eyes. “Brat.” she muttered. Brat? “Didn’t you see the kid in the animal pajamas?” “Yeah, but…” “They’re there in the box.” She dug through it and came out with a dalmatian onesie. “I wondered who that was.” Jennifer muttered. “You think it was her at the skate park that one day?” “Probably, she liked throwing stuff.” “Liked?” “She’s gone now.” Jennifer picked up on the note of sadness in her voice. She hadn’t paid much attention to the lack of her unwanted house guest, assuming Amber had been at Brian’s with her own family now that Hortensia was safe. Perhaps what she had witnessed that morning was Amber saying her goodbye’s. “For the best.” Jennifer said, trying not to show how happy she was knowing her boyfriend's dead wife would no longer be spying on them fooling around. “What of the others?” “They're all gone.” She could hear the crack of emotion in Hortensia’s voice. “You liked having her around, didn’t you?” She nodded and wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm. “Well, here, go rinse off and put this on.” Hortensia was about to head into the bathroom but Jennifer stopped her. “If you ever need help with them, you can ask me. It’s torn to shreds.” “It’s hard getting them off in time.” Hortensia mumbled before disappearing inside the bathroom. Jennifer surveyed her bed before grabbing the load of clothes she hadn’t had the energy to hang up onto her dresser. Why do today what you can put off till tomorrow, she thought sarcastically. The stress had been taking a toll on her energy level and she was finding simple tasks monumental. She was about to climb into bed when she noticed something was missing. Spot. She’d want him. So Jennifer made her way back to Hortensia’s room, flicked on the light and began the hunt. She was surprised when she didn’t find him on her bed. She looked around the sides to see if he had fallen onto the floor, but he was nowhere to be found. Had she brought him with her and Jennifer just hadn’t noticed? He wasn’t under the bed, behind the headboard, in her closet or wrapped up in her blanket. She was about to give up and go back when she noticed something white sticking out between the box spring and mattress. Jennifer pulled it out and blanched. What? She held the dismembered stuffed dog in her hands. He had been gutted from face to pelvis, his stuffing had been removed and his eyes had been gouged out. Jennifer gripped the not-so-stuffed-dogs remains in her fist and made her way to the bathroom. She threw open the door without knocking and, ignoring Hortensia’s shouts of protests, and held up what was once her most cherished possession. “I’m not dressed! What the hell? Knock!” Hortensia shouted. “Explain.” “Get out!” Without a word, Jennifer grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her bed. She pulled out the changing mat and laid it out on the bed. “Lay down.” Jennifer ordered. She grabbed the nappy from Hortensia’s hands and pointed. Hortensia's eyes went from her, to the bed and back to the nappy in her hands. “No, that’s weird.” she whined. “Lay. Down. Now.” Reluctantly, Hortensia climbed onto the mat and winced and Jennifer began to wipe her down with wet wipes. “Stop!” Hortensia complained. “You’re wet.” Jennifer said, ignoring her protests and squirming. “Besides, i’ve been changing your nappies for months.” “I don’t want you to!” “I’m not leaving you to sit in your own waste.” She sprinkled powder over her skin and taped the new nappy dotted with cartoon circus animals onto her waist. She used another wipe on her own hands before crossing her arms and meeting Hortensia’s glare. “Explain to me why you’ve destroyed your favorite toy.” “I’m too old for stuffed animals.” Hortensia mumbled. “I saw you just the other day cuddling with him, and now I see he’s been autopsied! You know, most people who outgrow their stuffed animals put them in their closet and leave them be. You look like you tried to harvest its organs!” “I wanted to know what was inside.” she whined. “Stuffing! Stuffing was inside! Hortensia, what is going on with you?” But she had curled up into a ball and ignored her question. Jennifer sighed in defeat and climbed into bed. It was quarter to five in the morning. The stress was sitting in her stomach like a rock, making her feel nauseated and queasy. By six, she could no longer lay down, and by the time her alarm went off at six-thirty, she had her head in the toilet, vomiting up last night's chicken alfredo. “Sorry, girls, you’re on your own for breakfast.” Jennifer said when she finally managed to extract herself from the bathroom. “I’m not feeling so good this morning.” “I’m going to get sick now!” Hortensia lamented. “I’m not sick. I’m just stressed.” She mumbled into her fist. “You can get sick from stress?” Hortensia’s face fell. “She does. All the time.” Matilda said. “I asked her questions about her scars once and she puked all over the hiking trail.” “Please, no more talk about puking.” Jennifer moaned. “Thanks.” She said a few moments later when Matilda slid a cup of tea in front of her. She forced herself to smile and take a sip. “Feeling better already.” She lied. “Where’s mine?” Hortensia scowled when Matilda poured herself a cup and sat down. “Go make your own.” Matilda said, taking a sip. Hortensia made a disgusted noise and slid off her chair. “You took all the hot water!” Hortensia complained. “Girls, please, not today.” She peeked out of her mostly closed eyelids and saw the time. “Hortensia, if Matilda made eggs, would you eat them?” She saw the girl avert her eyes. That was a no. “Am I making eggs or not?” Matilda asked, looking from one face to the other. “If you want them.” “Do you?” “No, thank you though. I’m fine with tea.” “Same.” Hortensia said, sliding back into her seat with a mug. “You want some tea with that sugar?” Matilda teased. Jennifer opened her eyes to see the table now littered with empty individual sugar packets and crystalized white beads. “How about you get some of that in the mug.” Jennifer said before sliding out from her chair. “I’m going back upstairs for a bit.” She stared at Hortensia pointedly. “Eat something. Besides sugar packets. And don’t forget to put your sheets in the wash.” “Are you going back to bed?” Matilda asked. “No, I just need to make a few phone calls.” “Are you going to call the doctor?” “Yes.” She slowly made her way up the stairs and to the privacy of her bedroom. “What do I do?” Jennifer asked in a shaky voice. She got the answer she had been afraid of. She let out a held breath. “Okay.” she said in resignation. She was out of options. Her mind raced. She wanted to lie down and go back to sleep. Once she was able to collect herself, she called the detective back and asked to reschedule their meeting. He didn’t sound happy about it, but he agreed. “It is imperative that we speak soon.” “Since I have you on the phone, can I ask you something? Can you prosecute him without her?” He was silent for a moment. “I have a neighbor that came by last night that attends her church. He said his lawyers would attack her character. She’s just a kid! She’s gone through something horrible! No one would possibly do that to a kid…right?” “We will try our hardest to shield her from any push back.” “What do you mean shield her? Is an adult really going to drag an eleven-year-old through the mud?” He cleared his throat. Her nausea was rearing its ugly head, but she swallowed down the bile in her throat. “Is it true that rape victims are attacked in court?” “As heartless as it seems, it is a common defense tactic, but I wouldn’t worry about it.” “There’s other people that have come forward, is their testimony enough? She’s…she’s not well.” “If we want a slam dunk conviction, we will need her testimony. She is the only one with documented injuries of a sexual nature. This case is…this case is unprecedented. It’s going to attract a lot of media attention as more details come out. We’ll do our best to protect her identity as much as possible.” But Jennifer had a feeling they already knew who had made the allegations, even before she had opened her big, fat mouth. “What kind of things will they try to say about her?” “A lot of bollocks, really. Things anyone could see right through like, she initiated, or consented. No one with half a brain cell is going to believe that.” “What makes this case so unprecedented?” Another pause. “Well, as you know, this is much bigger than one person. And, well, I’d really feel more comfortable talking to you in person rather than over the phone, there’s something we’d like you to see.” “I need to go to the hospital. I’ll see if I can make it after.” After she hung up and finally mustered the strength to get herself in the shower, she slowly made her way down the stairs, wrinkling her nose at the smells coming from the kitchen. “I said you could make eggs, not a full english breakfast.” she said, surveying the mess of ingredients. Both the girls were standing in front of the stove, a piece of bacon sticking out of the older one's mouth. Well, at least she was eating. “Sure you don’t want some?” Matilda asked. “Might make you feel better if you ate.” Jennifer highly doubted anything that greasy would make her feel better. Just watching it bubble in the pan made her stomach do the same. She forced another smile. “I’m fine, you enjoy.” “What did the doctor say?” Matilda asked. Jennifer bit her lip. “You did call the doctor, right?” “I did.” She said, taking a seat at the kitchen table, “Have to go to the hospital this morning, so hurry up and eat you two.” Matilda seemed to stare at her suspiciously for a moment. “What?” “Nothing.” she said, shoveling food onto plates. “Why do we have to go?” Hortensia complained. “Ow! What was that for?” “She’s sick, stop being a pain.” “Can I stay here instead? I promise I’ll do my school work!” “Yeah, right.” Matilda said, rolling her eyes. Jennifer shared her sentiment. “You have to come.” Jennifer said. “Bring your Game Boy.” … “Mom, seriously?” Matilda said. She should have known Matilda would peak over at what she was writing. Jennifer put a finger to her lips and gave her an exasperated, pleading look before returning to her clipboard of intake paperwork. “You need to get checked.” “I’m fine. I’m stressed.” “You said you called the doctor, liar.” Matilda said, crossing her arms and glowering at her. “I did call the doctor.” “Your doctor.” “I’m fine, Matilda. Read your book.” “You are not fine. You had to pull over three times to be sick on the way here.” She knew she shouldn’t have eaten, but she didn’t want to hurt Matilda’s feelings and she had to prove to Hortensia nothing was wrong with her portion of the food. She watched Matilda get up and storm up to the front desk and return with another clip board. “Matilda, what are you doing?” She looked over and let out a defeated groan. “You’re being seen.” Matilda stated. She picked up the chained pen and began filling out paperwork. Jennifer shook her head. “Hortensia Be-Bied-Bieder-” The intake nurse frowned and looked across the room. “Is there a Hortensia here?” “C’mon, let’s go.” Jennifer said, standing up. Hortensia looked up from her game, confused. “I thought we were here for you.” Jennifer gave her a pained look. “We are.” Matilda said firmly. “I had to.” Jennifer said softly. “Had to what?” Hortensia asked, as Jennifer ushered her forward to the triage. She took one look at the cart of empty blood vials waiting for her and froze. “No! No! No! No!” She turned to run back the way she had come but Jennifer blocked her. “It’s just a blood draw, chicken.” Matilda said. “Matilda,” Jennifer hissed. She didn’t need her getting worked into a frenzy, although she knew it would be unavoidable once she learned why they were there. “You want me to go first?” Hortensia nodded, already looking white as a ghost. “Do you mind? I think I’m next on the list, thanks to a little someone…” She stared at Matilda who gave her a guilty smile. “Jennifer Honey.” The man working triage nodded and picked up a different clipboard. “So both of you are being seen?” “Yes,” Jennifer said as she took a seat. “And what is it that you’re being seen for?” “A little queasy this morning.” “That poor hydrangea bush begs to differ.” Matilda said. Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Let’s start with your weight and height.” he led her to the scale where the number that appeared made her even more nauseous. How had she put on so much weight? She had been stress binging, she knew, but still. He led her back the chair where he took her blood pressure, and asked her more routine questions. No, she didn’t smoke or drink. No, there wasn’t any chance she was pregnant. No, she didn’t take any illegal substances. When it came to the blood draw, she tried to appear as straight faced as possible despite Hortensia looking everywhere but at her. When she was handed a urine specimen cup, she decided to wait for Hortensia. She didn’t trust her not to bolt while she was in the restroom. “Your turn.” He turned to look at Hortensia who let out a pitiful sounding whine. “It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt.” Much. It took twenty minutes, and two staff members to hold her down. “Would have been much easier if you didn’t fight.” He sounded like he was more than ready for her to go back to the waiting room. At least Hortensia was so preoccupied by the blood draw she hadn’t heard her conversation with triage as to why she was there. If she had, she hadn’t said anything about it. “The worst is over.” Jennifer said once they were in the bathroom. “I don’t think you’ll be getting any more needles.” Hortensia ignored her and went into a stall. Once they dropped off their urine samples, they went back out into the waiting room and waited another hour. Twice Hortensia had tried to excuse herself to the restroom, but Jennifer had Matilda go with her every time to put a stop to any escape attempts. “Hortensia.” someone with a clipboard shouted into the waiting room. They didn’t attempt to say her last name this time. They were led down a hallway to a row of curtains and to the third one to the left. “I’ll get another chair for you.” Jennifer took a seat on the chair and motioned for Hortensia to have a seat on the bed. “What are you three doing back here?” a familiar voice said. Jennifer gave her an uneasy smile. “I thought you worked nights.” “In a perfect world. I get called in at all odd hours.” She said. Jennifer tried to remember her name. Helga? Helen? Eventually she gave up and stared at her name tag. Meaghan. Not even close. “So I get both of you today I see.” “Her doing.” Jennifer said, nudging Matilda. “Did someone bring a virus back from school?” Meaghan laughed. “No.” Matilda said. “I’m making her get seen. She keeps puking.” Jennifer shrugged before frowning as she was handed another green bag. “I’m fine.” She said. “You don’t look fine.” Meaghan said. “Thank you!” Matilda said. “Now, who wants to go first?” Both Jennifer and Hortensia pointed at each other. Meaghan smiled and held up two charts, clipboards facing them. “You pick.” she said to Matilda, who pointed to the left. “Hortensia it is.” “Traitor.” Hortensia grumbled before eying Meaghan distrustfully. “You better not put anything up my arse this time.” “Hortensia!” Jennifer groaned. “I think your arse is safe for the time being.” Meaghan said, looking over her chart. She flashed Hortensia a sympathetic smile. “I see here you’re having a hard time with everything. Why don’t you tell me a bit why you’re here.” “I don’t know.” Hortensia grumbled. Meaghan turned to Jennifer. “I called her doctor and they told me to bring her in,” Jennifer said before letting out a held breath. “She needs to be admitted for psychiatric evaluation.” Hortensia’s head swiveled around. “What?” she demanded. “I’m sorry, I-I have to.” Jennifer said. She couldn’t meet her eyes. “Can you tell me a little bit about what’s going on?” “Delusions, mood swings, she won’t eat, she’s destroying things, having these strange episodes where she spaces out and won’t come to and-” She put a fist to her mouth. “In the bag.” Jennifer retched as Hortensia and Matilda recoiled. “Sorry, I get sick to my stomach when I’m stressed.” Jennifer mumbled, before thanking her for the napkin to wipe her mouth. She might have been imagining it, but Meaghan looked like she wanted to laugh. “I think she might have some kind of infection as well.” Jennifer added when her senses came back. “Doctor will take a look when he comes in. As for you, I’m going to have you two switch places for now before I need to get the smelling salts again.” Matilda laughed at this. “Did she really pass out?” Matilda asked. “Yes, I did.” Jennifer groaned, earning another laugh from the girl. “What are you laughing for? You just jumped nearly six feet in the air when your mom got sick.” Meaghan teased as she helped Jennifer lie down. “Doctor might want to start an I.v. for fluids.” Now it was Hortensia’s turn to laugh. Sure enough, Meaghan came back twenty minutes later carrying a bag of syringes and coil. Hortensia looked like she was the one about to be sick. “Got it, all done.” “What? Already?” Hortensia said in disbelief. Jennifer had a feeling Hortensia had expected her to suffer through a couple failed attempts. “That’s how easy it can be when you don’t need five people holding you down.” Meaghan said. “No fair.” Hortensia grumbled. “You poked me like 12 times!” She looked at Matilda. “How many times did they get you?” “Once.” Matilda said with a grin. Hortensia rolled her eyes before standing up. “I need the lou.” She said. “You just went to the lou.” Matilda complained. “Well, I have to go again!” she said before taking off. “Go with her, please.” Jennifer said before shutting her eyes. Maybe she did have an infection. Or she was trying to run off. She opened her eyes when a new person pulled back the curtain. She blinked and lifted her head. The girls were back already? She must have fallen asleep. He introduced himself as the doctor on call. She ran through Hortensia’s symptoms and troubling behavior as Hortensia glowered at her and said nothing. He then began asking about her diet, and how much sugar she had this morning. Jennifer said a lot. “So I did speak with her pediatrician, and we are going to go ahead and admit her. What we want to address the most is her eating. We are going to admit her as an E.D. patient, which means she will have more supervision during meals. One thing we did find in her labs is her blood sugar is quite elevated, so after we get her eating on a normal schedule and give her body a chance to adjust, we are going to rerun the blood panel and check that over.” “Oh, well, umm, I’m concerned about her mental state. She’s having these delusions that I’m poisoning her. Shouldn’t that be the thing to address? It’s great if you get her to eat here, but what happens when she comes home?” “I know it sounds illogical to us, but after going through her chart and seeing what happened. Her being afraid her food is being poisoned is actually a rational concern. Her food was being tampered with. Questioning the adults in her life is actually a natural response. After going through her medical history and seeing her lab results, I have a suspicion I know what’s going on and it may not be entirely psychiatric. Yes, she absolutely needs and will receive therapy and psychiatric help, but we need to rule out any physical causes.” “Oh I agree, completely. I just feel like we’ve been to so many doctors and everyone keeps referring us back to psychiatry.” “Have you been to an endocrinologist?” “Maybe? I’m not sure. I thought it was one of the first places we were referred to, but I can’t remember if it was for Hortentsia or Matilda though.” “Me.” Matilda said. Oh. “Well, like I said, we want to keep an eye on her blood sugar. If it comes back this elevated again we’ll need to start her on insulin right away.” “Insulin?” Oh god no. Please no. Not that. “She’s diabetic?” “We will know for sure in a couple of days, but my money’s on yes.” Jennifer cringed. Images of chasing her down and trying to stab her with an insulin pen made her feel queasy again. “She’s afraid of needles.” She groaned. “Well, if she is diabetic, we can talk about treatment plans then. As for you.” He smiled and opened her folder. “Congratulations is in order.” She blinked in confusion. “I don’t feel much like celebrating.” “Morning sickness will do that.” Morning sickness? She laughed. “No- no, there’s no way-” “You’re pregnant.”

The person honestly doesn't seem to understand business or the associated laws. They just seem like a risk to anyone that would be their client and it probably is for the best their venture doesn't go forward.

It's interesting to know that there are alot of straight males that have gay fantasies...... sometimes I wish I was still single lol

Welcome to DD

Welcome to DD

That's some nice gear! Should do you just fine.

I have the new one up and running now. It took some assisstance from the Squad of Geeks, but it is most certainly better than the previous one at least so far.

Very promising, with a great hook at chapter's end. I hope that the poor girl is just having a bad dream.

Some of us would find a way. Yes we would.

In my experience they might be ok for a period of time but incomplete washing may allow for a bacterial build-up inside the absorbent material. Incomplete drying seems to make that worse (it happens to me quicker if I'm forced to tumble-dry instead of line drying). When that happens, bacterial decomposition of any pee gets turbo-charged meaning they can smell of ammonia pretty much the moment pee hits them. It's a risk with cloth nappies and I've found that routinely adding some washing anti-bacterial additive to the machine when running nappies through them helps.

This is going to be good…

Mom clearly doesn't know the first rule about buying diapers. Don't go cheap! Trust me, cheap diapers don't work nearly as well as good diapers.

I'm in the process of messing my underwear. Love it for a quickie.

The build up was well paced, nice and easy, followed by wham bam, its done! Now the suspense… not the suspense… please just get on with the next day!,

Good chapter

Omg I love it. The detail and the thought process you had to have gone through in this chapter alone. Like with how the LPS agent noticed things were off. My first thought when Emma thought Nancy wanted them to look like twins was that first Nancy would need to put on a thick Amazon size diaper that's the equivalent of the one she's wearing, of course lol.

Chapter 110: Pre-Date Planning BETH HAD BEEN surprised to leave class and find Carly waiting for her in a chair not far from their classroom. She had her head in her hands and looked like she was one step from breaking down. “Hey,” she said, walking up to her, “are you okay?” Carly looked up at her and noticed that there were some tear tracks. She scooped her up and hugged her, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she tried to say. “You look like you’ve been crying; that’s not nothing?” Beth asked. “Fine, I’ll tell you later… can we get out of here?” “Sure, let’s go get some food.” “Would you please put me down?” Carly asked her. “Sure,” she said, worried about this change from the past couple of days where she didn’t seem to mind when she held her. They walked beside each other to the Union, and Carly led her to a line at a chain that served chicken. They both ordered chicken nuggets, and Nikki picked up her own chicken sandwich, too, behind them, joining them at a table. “What’s wrong, Carly?” Beth asked. She sighed, “Who says something is wrong?” “You? Your body language?” Beth insisted. “Ugh… I just had, I think, the most mortifying experience of my life so far!” She said, dipping a piece of fist-sized chicken into it, “I don’t want to talk about it, though,” she told her. Beth considered pushing, but a shake of Nikki’s head was advice she decided to heed. “Did your test go okay, at least?” Carly tensed up but released a little bit as she said, “I think so… I mean, I’m nervous about my first real test here in this dimension, but I think I answered everything correctly.” She nodded, “When do you find out?” She asked. Right then, there was a ping from Carly’s bag, and she reached in for her phone, “Right now, apparently?” Her face was unreadable, Beth decided to ask, “So…?” “Perfect score? A Hundred?” Carly said. “Great job!” she told her. “Thanks,” Carly said sheepishly. “You ready for your test? That’s your next class, right?” “Yeah,” Beth told her. “Not looking forward to it, but I don’t think I can do any more studying?” Carly looked at her phone. “There’s a studio available for editing; want to go edit for an hour before our classes?” “Do you think we can actually finish that last scene?” Carly shrugged, “Not sure, but we can probably get close if not?” Beth looked at the clock on her phone and said, “Let’s do it!” It was a brisk walk for the three of them, but they made it into the studio and loaded the project. Carly was moving faster than anything she’d seen her do so far. ‘Is she trying to burn something from her memory from earlier?’ She thought. She certainly didn’t help Beth with that if that was her goal! Carly moved through the selected takes for the last two pages of the script at a rapid pace. Beth watched as Carly argued with the HoloCharacter about being the baby before getting fed some fake baby food by Beth. “All done! What a good baby!” she watched herself say. ‘I could have been saying that to a real baby,’ she thought. Right then, she grimaced as she watched herself squat down. Per the script, the camera angle briefly showed her filling her diaper before Isabella came in and sniffed beside her. “You’re poopy, sweetie!” was amongst the top ten most embarrassing lines said towards her while they filmed. She turned red as Carly manipulated the footage to show her ‘walk of shame’ back inside the daycare. ‘Brings a whole new meaning to walk of shame, actually,’ Beth thought. Carly practically jumped a moment later as she watched herself ‘poop’ her own diaper. She turned to look at her and noticed she was kind of shaking. “Are you okay, Carly?” She shrugged, “I hate seeing myself doing it, even more than doing it?” Beth nodded at that, “I’m not a fan of those scenes of pooping myself either? I think I have more than you, actually?” “You probably do…” Carly said, “But I’m the one who keeps living it right now?” “What happened this morning?” She asked, reaching over and squeezing Carly in a side hug. I TENSED AT the question but knew this was like when my mom or sisters asked me similar questions on bad days. I decided to rip the Band-Aid off as I manipulated the final camera angle and faded to black. “Done!!!” I said excitedly. She smiled, “Good job,” she said. “I’ll text Charlotte and let her know. Now, this morning?” I saved our work, locked everything back up, and turned to her. “I… I pooped my diaper in the test?” She hugged me again, “Nothing bad happened, right?” I shook somewhat, then said, “Well… I guess at least I didn’t get punished or demerits?” “But…?” “Someone complained about how I smelled bad, and so one of the girls in my class offered to change my diaper behind the desk.” “Why didn’t you just leave for the changing station?” “If we left, they considered us done. I guess the professor is being cautious about cheating?” She nodded at that, “I’ve had a couple of those morons…” She moved me onto her lap, then, “So, what did you say?” I blushed, “I accepted?” “So everyone saw you get changed?” “I don’t think so…?” I shrugged, “I had my eyes closed most of the time, though.” “Sorry, Carly, that’s pretty embarrassing.” She squeezed me, “Come on, we still have ten minutes to get to class. And I don’t think you can edit us out of being late?” “I could try?” I told her. She tickled my side then, “Let’s not push our luck?” We walked quickly to Euler, where we both had our class. She hugged me, “It’ll be okay, and we’ll have a great time this weekend! Try to relax in that voodoo you call math.” “Good luck with your basic calculus,” I razzed her. She stuck her tongue at me, and we split off to our classes. I spent the class going through the date that night in my head and all that I hoped would go right while contemplating what could go wrong! I really didn’t want to wear my uniform. Still, I also knew from the student handbook that if you wore it, the police and LPS would be more likely to believe you were a student and not just making up stories… Given that we’d have Nikki with me, I contemplated risking it, though! ‘It’s not like I want to dress up like a princess… just jeans and a sweater?’ I thought to myself with a sigh. Professor Nash began class with new variations on the content we’d discussed so far in the week. It was really cool to see the possibilities of using this process to further astronomy and portal physics calculations! While I was entertained, I noted several class members hadn’t made it in that day, and several others were propped up on their tablets, taking a nap. Professor Nash wasn’t a fool, so she said, “Okay, I think that’s as much of this as any of you will absorb today! Remember you will have a test on all we’ve discussed this semester on Friday of next week. I’ll have a study guide on my site this afternoon that you can use to review.” With that, I was helped down from the table and shouldered my bag, realizing it was at least an hour until Beth’s class was usually done. I didn’t know how an exam would affect that, so I just sat in the lobby outside her lecture hall to wait for her. As I approached, I saw Nikki sitting there already. “Not watching Beth?” I asked her. “Hi, Carly, skipping class?” She countered. “The Professor saw several absent students and several passed-out students and decided the math added up to early weekend! So… watching Beth?” I asked. “There’s only one way in or out, and they didn’t want me in the room during the testing?” “Sounds like an opportunity,” I frowned. “I’m going to be addressing it later. Right now, I’m not overly concerned. We’re more likely to deal with problems tonight. Speaking of which, tell me all of your plans!” I felt nervous as I said, “Well, I was debating about some place fancier, but I think it would be better to keep it casual for a first date.” “First date?” “Well… first official date?” I told her with a blush. “Anyway, my cousin Shelby told me about this place called Off-Forkway Stage that does burgers and shakes. They entertain you randomly with show tunes from musicals, too?” “Cute,” Nikki said. “What else?” “We’re just going to go see a movie. There are a couple of movies; I thought I would give Beth a choice.” “For your own sake, avoid the animated ones?” I nodded, “Shelby told me that, too. I was thinking either Glen’s Den, which is an action-adventure flick, or Harlsgate, which is some sort of science fiction film?” “No romance movies?” “I think there’s also one of those called Cupids Rise, but it didn’t sound as good to me?” “It hasn’t gotten very good reviews from anyone I’ve seen,” she conceded. “So, how are you getting there?” “Grandma?” “Romantic ride?” I shrugged, “Practical, I need to get her our overnight bags to go home with her?” She nodded, “Well, you definitely have a good head on your shoulders. What’s your end goal for this, though? Aren’t you supposed to be going home at the end of…?” She was about to finish when a series of students began escaping the room where Beth was taking the test. Nikki and I saw her come up behind a few Bigs and walk beside Livy. “Hey, Conn… Carly!” Livy said a moment later. “Hi, Livy!” I said. “Ready to change and head out?” “Are you dressing up for this?” Beth asked. “You’re safest with your uniform on?” She reminded me. I held up my wrist with the Student ID band we’d updated earlier in the week. “I have this, you, and most importantly, her!” I said, pointing at Nikki. Beth nodded, “So, how dressy are we talking?” “Casual, don’t go getting a ballgown on?” I told her with a smile. “Casual dinner and a movie; I just want to wear jeans and that purple sweater Aunt Bella made for me?” “That really soft and fuzzy one?” She asked me. I nodded. “I’ll be petting you all night long…” she said, turning red, “You two did not hear that!” Everyone laughed and walked me to Sanders. “Meet you down here in half an hour?” Beth asked. “Sounds good!” I said, racing upstairs to change out of the jumper outfit. I was tired of wearing the same outfit for the past week! It was infinitely more comfortable and loose-fitting than the fake tie and suit I had to wear as a boy, but I wanted to cover my legs more until it grew warmer! BETH HURRIED UPSTAIRS and discovered Rachel had again already packed her bag for her. She checked it for anything missing but decided she’d done a great job this time. Rings was even carefully laid on top of her clothes and pillow, so she closed the bag again and walked to her closet. Knowing Carly was going to wear jeans and a sweater made her want to do something similar. She found a pair of darker-colored jeans and a light green sweater that would probably look okay with Carly for any photos they might take while they were out. She took the time to change, brushed her hair, and was thinking of styles when Rachel appeared. “May I help you with your hair?” “Umm… what did you have in mind?” “I can do anything you can think of. Or show me a picture, and I can go from there?” Beth thought that was kind of cool and hadn’t thought about using her ‘nanny’ as a hairstylist. ‘I probably should have thought of it, though. They do kids’ hair all the time?’ she said. She thought for a few moments and said, “Can you just put it into a half-pony with the pony curled?” “Certainly!” Rachel said to her, moving behind her and seeming to pull all of her hair accessories that were needed from across the room. It was a bit dizzying, but also quite impressive, how quickly Rachel could style her hair. She momentarily looked at herself in the mirror and said, “This is great, Rachel. Thanks!” “You’re very welcome, Beth! Have a good time on your date!” With that comment, Rachel faded from existence. ‘She knows too much!’ she griped. She took one last look in the mirror at her makeup, and she decided to change the look before she left. It wasn’t an over-the-top night-out look, but it did look a little bolder than she usually kept her day look. She tossed her backpack, overnight bag, and purse over her shoulder before closing and locking the door. Nikki was waiting for her outside her door, “Ready?” “Yeah, let’s go get Carly!” I MADE MY way upstairs to the nest and quickly packed anything else I had missed in my overnight bag. Sure that I had toiletries and clothes, I also took time to embarrassingly load some diapers into my backpack and add some to my overnight bag. I was sure Grandma had a fully loaded changing table back at her house. Still, after being stuck in that monstrosity the other day, I didn’t want to risk a repeat! I then moved to my clothes and found the jeans and sweater I’d told Beth I wanted to wear. Lilly walked over right then, “Ready to head to your Grandma’s?” I nodded, “Beth and I are going to do a couple of things first, though.” She looked around the room for a moment, then picked me up and said, “Let’s chat in my room?” I still held my jeans and the sweater as she carried me into her apartment and closed the door. It was only the second time I’d seen it closed so far, and I was a bit worried! “What’s wrong?” I asked her as she carried me to the couch and placed me an arm’s length away from her so we could look at each other. “Going out with Beth?” I nodded, “Uh-huh?” “It’s kind of risky for you two to be a couple?” She said gently. I nodded, “We know, and we’re careful?” She sighed, “I just don’t want to see anything happen to you?” Shrugging her shoulders, “So what’s with this outfit if you’re going out somewhere off campus?” I shrugged, “I didn’t want to go on the date in my uniform?” “You know that uniform is a bit of protection, right? If you’re wearing it they have to check with Emerson?” I held up my wristband. “They have to deal with this first? Not to mention how many Littles just get ripped out of their clothing, and they claim not to have known?” She looked at my wrist, “Portal Littles can’t get those? How did you?” “There has to be a family member with them, right?” I shrugged. I have an adopted grandmother here. I doubt any other Portal Littles have ever had that.” She smirked, “Probably not! I’m still shocked that your grandma let your mom go home; then she was crazy enough to let you come here?” I smiled, “It’s a family tradition thing?” “Huh?” “For at least a few centuries, probably longer, Slane men have always gone on adventures. They were some of the first to come across the ocean to our continent to settle the ‘New World,’ as they called it. They were also some of the first to go several places on Earth, and my mom came on her adventure here.” “Wait… Slane men?” I felt a bit bad then, but just said, “Yes, Mom was a boy when she came?” “Another tradition?” she smiled. “Seems like it might be becoming one,” I nodded. “So, this sweater and jeans, huh? What’s the plan?” “So it’s okay?” “I heard Beth has a bodyguard now? She’ll be with you, right?” I nodded, “Yeah, Nikki goes with her everywhere.” “Then I can’t imagine her letting someone adopt you. Word is also that you took care of yourself with that lunatic last week…? Try not to get arrested while you’re out, at least?” I smiled, “I’ll agree to that!” “Good, let’s change that diapee. You’re soaked, so let’s get you dressed, and I’ll do your hair for you.” “Thanks!” I said to her. Twenty minutes later, I had a dry diaper, jeans, and a sweater on. Lilly had curled the bottom of my hair. She made a couple of mini-braided ponytails to keep the rest of my hair tied back in the middle and attached a medium-sized bow. I would have complained about looking like a toddler, but the truth was that with the fat being adjusted in my face, head proportions, and body proportions from the nanites, I wasn’t going to get away from that look. I knew I would probably look like I was the youngest daughter out with Nikki, our babysitter or mom. With a shrug, I smiled and said, “Thanks, Miss Lilly.” “You’re welcome, Carly.” “Oh, and I’m coming back to pick up a few of the girls for a shopping trip tomorrow?” She blanched, “Is that safe?” “We’ll have plenty of supporting Bigs?” “You be careful, no taking too big of risks?” I smiled, “I won’t.” Grandma showed up right then, and we headed downstairs together, where Beth and Nikki waited outside the hall. She looked cute in her sweater and jeans combo. I was glad it was warm enough to leave the coats off as we climbed into Grandma’s car and headed for what I hoped would be a memorable date night! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!! Please press the 'Like' Button and Leave a comment! Real life is definitely raging right now, so sadly, I'm at a standstill with writing. Fortunately, I have a 15-week lead, so hopefully, that will let me have another writing spurt before I run out of completed chapters. This weekend is probably my last opportunity for a few weeks, but we'll see if I can get my head into writing mode again. Just a reminder if you enjoy my work, please consider purchasing an ebook version from Amazon of my completed works! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter Three Fern leaned against the sink, exhausted and yet buzzing with nervous energy. The tingling aftereffects of her enema still sent the occasional shiver up her spine, and warmth still radiated from the brutal spanking she’d received. Aurelia had devastated her, and yet, she wanted more. The woman–it didn’t feel right to think of Aurelia as just, Aurelia, her name felt too casual, and thinking of her as ‘the landlady’ didn’t feel quite right either–had called this a punishment, and it was. Fern ached, but all the same, she thrilled. Aurelia walked back in, stepping behind Fern, standing over her. They made eye contact in the mirror. Fern, makeup and snot still streaking her face from the spanking, eyes red and full of need, hair frizzy and tangled from being groped and grabbed. Aurelia, clean and perfect, somehow remaining aloof from the grime. She didn’t look like she’d expended any effort at all when she devastated Fern’s body, again and again. “You’re doing well,” Aurelia said, reaching past Fern towards the sink. She picked up a washcloth, dampening it with warm, clean water, and began to wipe gently at Fern’s face. It didn’t take long–a few gentle strokes of the cloth, to wipe away the sweat and makeup, leaving Fern refreshed. Then, picking up the cup, she filled it with water, raising it to Fern’s lips, guiding the girl to drink. Cool, refreshing water ran down her throat, giving her strength to keep going. It felt impossible that such torment and such tenderness could come from the same woman, and yet, if anything, the former only enhanced the latter–in that moment, Aurelia dominated Fern’s world, the source of all her pain and all her gentle, soothing comfort. Once Fern’s care was complete, Aurelia stepped away. Turning, she pointed again to the stool on the floor. “Bend down.” Fern’s eyes widened, and she started to say, “B–” She caught herself before she could finish the word and land herself in further trouble. Dropping to her knees, she bent over the stool, planting her palms on the cool bathroom tile and taking deep breaths to prepare. “The first one was a warm up,” Aurelia explained, “To clean you out. Are you ready for your real enema?” (Real?) Fern’s eyes widened and she squirmed, butt wriggling, giving the woman above her a show. She couldn’t see the bag as it filled up, but she heard the water run, rushing into the bag, and it seemed to stretch on for far too long. (How much is she filling it?) Fern thought, squirming in her panic. When Aurelia told her to hold still, she held still, allowing the nozzle to press deep inside her body. An involuntary moan escaped her lips, and her cheeks burned as she found pleasure in the shame. “The same rules apply,” Aurelia added, as the water began to flow. “Once you’re full, you will hold it for fifteen minutes before releasing.” Fern nodded, taking deep breaths. She didn’t know if she could make it, not really, but she had to try. As more warm water rushed inside her, though, filling her, swelling her belly, a second moan escaped her lips, and she felt moisture dribble down her thighs. The enema hose hadn’t leaked, the wetness came from in front, her pussy dripping with arousal. She heard a sound behind her, a wordless noise of approval from Aurelia’s throat, and her pleasure only deepened. When the interminable flow of warmth stopped, Aurelia gave her a few moments to catch her breath, then removed the nozzle. Fern struggled, holding herself closed, knees shaking as she withstood the water sloshing around. Fingers closed around her hair, and Aurelia towed Fern to her feet, turning her body to face the mirror once more. From a few steps back, Fern could see her own naked body clearly, belly distended from the water, nipples standing hard on her chest, forced to stand upright by Aurelia’s tight grip. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Aurelia asked. Fern nodded, feeling pressure on her hair as she did so. “You enjoy feeling desperate? Struggling for control of yourself?” As Fern nodded a second time, Aurelia’s hands drifted over her, two fingers pinching her nipples, while two more slid down between her legs, teasing her clit with delicate pressure. Even distracted by the enema, struggling to stand upright and keep her bowels in control, Fern gasped. “Please!” “Please, what?” Aurelia asked, teasing faster, pinching and twisting little circles on Fern’s hard nipples, the pleasure threatening Fern’s control over the enema sloshing inside her. “Do you really think you deserve a reward?” Fern shook her head, realizing she would be denied no matter what she said and not wanting to get herself in further trouble. “N-no, I–oh!” “Good,” Aurelia whispered with deep intensity, fingers working faster, rubbing against Fern’s clit. “You’re right, you don’t. You only get this because I want it.” In only seconds, Fern exploded with ecstasy, knees trembling as she squirted into Aurelia’s fingers, sex dribbling down her thighs. She had to struggle to contain the enema, whole body trembling with effort, but that only made the pleasure more intense, fighting with everything she had to experience the bliss and ward off the humiliation in one moment. She moaned without restraint, leaning against the sink for support, chest heaving as she rode it out. Aurelia’s hands retreated, giving one last pinch to Fern’s tender bottom before she stepped away. “Fifteen more minutes,” she said. “Your time only starts once you get in the corner.” Fern caught her breath a moment longer, nodding to show that she’d heard. It was a struggle to move–every step made her feel like she might explode, losing control of the enema inside her, but she made it, pressing her face into the corner. Despite the increased volume of the enema, Fern found that the character of her holding hadn’t become as insurmountable as she’d expected. The encouragement and praise had bolstered her, and her body had already grown more accustomed to the struggles and discomfort she put it through. While the cramps were worse than ever, and she could feel the added weight in pounds sloshing inside her, she could persist. Fern laced her fingers behind her head, took deep, slow breaths, and challenged herself to make it. Even then, a tiny part of her wanted to fail–to see if Aurelia would follow through with her threat to start from the beginning. That terrified her, and excited her, but she felt that it wouldn’t be right. It had been a threat, not an offer, and she wouldn’t abuse the system in such a way. She would be good for Aurelia, she would do as she was told. She thought she heard Aurelia leave, but she didn’t cheat or break. She obeyed, keeping her hands in place, until the woman returned. Finally, she heard Aurelia call to her. “Your time is up. You can relieve yourself, then come to me.” It was a struggle to get on the toilet in time–she’d managed to brace herself in position, but shuffling three steps and sitting down nearly broke her control. Finally, though, the cramps vanished, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted. When she wandered into the master bedroom, dazed but ready for more, she found a white pad spread out on the floor, long enough for her to lay down. A single diaper sat next to the pad, with wipes, powder, and baby oil next to it, all arranged with an obvious purpose. Fern didn’t question, and she didn’t need instructions. She dropped to her knees and then to her hands, crawling forward towards the mat. Laying down, she turned, facing up at Aurelia’s tender smile. “You’re learning,” she praised, smiling as she knelt by Fern. The wet wipes were slightly warm to the touch, prepared for this, and she ran them across Fern’s skin with a delicate tenderness, wiping away any residue from the enema, any sweat from her many punishments, any grime. “Lift,” she instructed, and Fern raised her body so that the wipes could reach beneath her, cleaning her tender, bruised bottom. Fern’s legs trembled slightly from holding herself up, but she waited obediently while Aurelia picked up the diaper, unfolded it, and ran a finger along the inner leg guard to straighten it properly before sliding it beneath the girl on the changing mat. Fern expected the diaper to be taped up then, but Aurelia instead squirted baby oil into her hand, rubbing it across her palms and then massaging it into Fern’s thighs. Expecting this to go the same way as the cleaning, Fern relaxed, until she felt the slick touch of Aurelia’s fingers run over her clit. She gasped, eyes widening, looking up at Aurelia with craving. She didn’t understand why the pain and discomforts had turned her on so thoroughly, but the agonizing spanking and cramp-inducing enemas had left her quivering for this woman’s touch. Aurelia matched her gaze, smirking with her eyes, basking in the power she held. Parting her lips, she instructed quietly, “Beg.” “Please,” Fern began, the words tumbling out of her mouth as Aurelia stroked her clit faster, slender fingers tracing circles around her. Needing the satisfaction, she babbled, “Let me–make me–I want to–” Aurelia slowed down, letting the excitement fade, disapproval hiding behind her eyes. Sinking deeper into submission, Fern realized what she had to say. “I want to be good,” she promised, and the words felt true as she said them. “I want you to teach me my lesson, I want to be put in my place–thank you for punishing me, and please don’t let me forget–aah, ah–” She gasped, words stolen from her throat as a delicate finger plunged inside her, feeling Fern from the inside while her clit burned with sensation. Fern couldn’t think any longer, she could only succumb to the passions that welled up within her, moaning in bliss as she squirted once again, pushed into the most intense orgasm of her life. Collapsing against the changing mat, Fern panted for air, body tingling with sweat and euphoria. Aurelia, smiling, reached for the baby powder, continuing as though this had all been a routine part of her diaper change. Fern’s diaper was already damp when Aurelia pressed it against her, holding it snug and arranging the tapes. It smelled of sex, and the slight damp squish against her pussy told her new things about herself. She didn’t want this to be her last orgasm in diapers. Reaching up and cradling Fern’s face in her hand, Aurelia whispered, “You did well.” Nodding, delirious, Fern asked, “Is that it?” “Oh, you sweet, darling little thing.” Aurelia smiled, both predatory and caring. “Absolutely not.” Taking Fern’s hand, she pulled the girl into a sitting position. Fern stared up at her, feeling the difference in their stature as Aurelia towered above her. “Follow me.” Aurelia turned on her heels, walking towards the door to the hallway. Fern began to stand, but she shot a look over her shoulder and shook her head. “Hands and knees.” Not questioning, not complaining, Fern crawled after her, shuffling on the hardwood floor. The motion emphasized her diaper, causing her padded bottom to wave in the air as she moved, telling her that she belonged like this. It was a humiliating display, parading her utter lack of dignity in contrast to Aurelia’s refined maturity, and as a blush burned on her face, Fern tried to push her bottom in the air higher, to sashay a little more, to show how much she had earned her position here. Helpless and wonderfully defeated, she crawled after her matron as they went out into the hallway and down to the left, towards…Fern’s room. “You may have noticed the mounting points on your bed,” Aurelia explained, leading the girl to her room. “I had no specific intent to do this until I caught you sneaking about, but it seems appropriate, now.” Pushing open the door, she revealed Fern’s bed–Fern’s crib. Her bed had been affixed with tall wooden bars that fenced it in, turning the place she slept into a juvenile cage. One side was open, swung out like a door, and Aurelia pointed. Obedient, Fern crawled in, laying down on her mattress. The blankets reminded her how tired she was, how much she’d gone through. When Aurelia swung the crib’s side panel shut and latched it–locked it, with an obvious, chunky padlock–Fern didn’t mind. She curled up, diaper rustling between her hips. “Rest,” Aurelia instructed, and Fern needed no further prompting before drifting off to sleep. She dozed comfortably–maybe for thirty minutes, maybe for a few hours. When she awoke, it was to the sound of giggling girls, echoing from somewhere else in the house. Aurelia’s nieces were home. Fern sat up sharply. There was a distinct pressure on her bladder, reminding her of the water she’d drank, of the fact that she hadn’t peed since before all this began, even when she released her enemas. Now the locked bars of her crib were a problem, and she reached up, shaking them. “Aurelia?” she called out. To her surprise, the door opened almost immediately, and the tall, powerful woman entered, looking down on Fern. “Yes, sweet thing?” she inquired, moving to the side of the crib. “Do you need something?” “I need to pee,” Fern explained. After her nap, little things like ‘deep humiliation’ felt more important to her. Still, she felt the need to add, “Please, ma’am.” “You saved yourself there,” Aurelia commented. “And, of course, you’re welcome to go.” Fern started to smile, before noticing that Aurelia hadn’t unlocked the crib. “Um…” “What?” Aurelia asked, tilting her head with mock innocence. “Go ahead, use your diaper.” Flushing, Fern shook her head. “I…I can hold it.” “Alright then.” Moving to unlock the crib, Aurelia added, “You will come downstairs and apologize to the girls now.” “What?” Fern squeaked, eyes widening. Aurelia froze, staring harshly at her. With quiet intensity, she said, “I am going to assume you were asking me to repeat myself because you didn’t hear, and that you haven’t chosen this moment to begin sassing me. You will come downstairs and apologize to the girls now.” Burning bright red, looking down at her naked, diapered body, Fern stammered, “Bu–I–” Watching her, Aurelia waited to see what words Fern could concoct. She took a breath, rephrasing her objection. “I don’t know what to say to them.” “You will apologize for spying on their private time,” Aurelia explained. “And promise you will not try to invade their personal lives again. This is not optional, Fern, you violated their trust far more than my own.” Nodding, feeling genuine shame, Fern asked, “May I please dress myself first?” Agreeing to that with a nod, Aurelia unlocked the crib, but said, “Wait here.” She left, returning only a moment later with Fern’s scrubs. Not her underwear–just the shirt and pants. She passed them to Fern, who dressed herself as quickly as she could. It was a paltry uniform. Her nipples brushed against the fabric of the top, the bumps just barely visible if you looked hard enough, and the stretchy pants bulged obviously around the diaper. She would just have to hope it would be discreet enough to get her through the apology. Standing, she watched Aurelia nervously. “Is it obvious?” Aurelia actually laughed, her voice rich and golden, as though she’d been told the funniest thing in the world. “Start moving–and you may walk, if you’d like.” Bright red, Fern walked to the door, acutely aware of every crinkle, every whiff of baby powder, every waddling step. Her anxiety only had time to build as she walked downstairs, wishing her bladder wasn’t full to bursting, making her squirm and whimper as she got to the living room and entrance hall of the home. (Maybe they won’t notice,) she thought as she stopped at the base of the stairs, getting the attention of the two girls. Shifting her weight from foot to foot to resist the ache in her bladder, Fern faced them. They looked back at her, curious as to why she’d come down. Leah spoke up first. “Hiya, Fern–are you okay?” “I…” Fern began, aware of Aurelia at the top of the landing behind her, watching this whole thing. She felt the need to pee burn inside her, and the slight damp in her diaper only made things worse–it felt as though she’d been holding it for ages and was now sitting on a toilet. Her body wanted to go, it felt natural to go, and she could barely convince it to resist. “Carolyn, Leah, I need to…apologize…” Confused, they approached from across the living room. Carolyn frowned. “For what?” “Erm…” Blushing, praying that her potty dance wasn’t as visible as it felt, Fern said, “Two nights ago, I…well, I was home, and you didn’t know, and I overheard something.” Raising an eyebrow, Leah tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?” “Well–you were with your aunt.” (God, I just need to say it.) Burning with shame, she tried to get the apology over with. “And…well I heard you with her.” “I don’t understand,” Leah insisted, “Can you be more specific?” (How much more specific do you want me to be?) “I heard you both…and, well…” She didn’t notice Aurelia behind her until the woman was only a step away–she’d been totally silent coming down the stairs, but now, as she stepped up to Fern, Aurelia made herself known. Reaching down casually, she pulled down the waistband of Fern’s scrub pants, revealing her puffy diaper and giving the seat a squeeze. “Good job, Fern!” Aurelia praised. “Your diaper’s still dry!” Fern went numb, eyes widening in humiliation as both girls burst into fits of giggles. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could only stand there as they laughed, and as Aurelia reached her hand to the front, pressing her fingers into the crotch of the diaper, testing– “Oh, I spoke too soon,” Aurelia corrected. “That’s alright, that’s why you’re wearing it.” Shocked, Fern realized that she’d lost control–her bladder had stopped resisting, and she now flooded the diaper in front of the giggling girls, with Aurelia’s hand there to feel the rush of pee that saturated her padding. Blush deepening, Fern also realized how much the woman’s touch turned her on, even now. As the stream trickled to an end and the girls managed to stifle their laughter, Carolyn pushed the other girl’s shoulder in a playful way. “You’re mean, Leah!” she taunted, adding in a mock imitation, “‘Can you be more specific?’” “I–” Fern began. “You–you knew?” “Of course,” Leah snickered. “Mommy told us once she realized you’d been spying. She says you took your punishment really well, too!” Dazed, Fern almost stumbled, but Aurelia’s arms kept her upright. They’d known all along, she’d never had a chance of hiding, and yet… “Girls,” Aurelia interrupted. “Do you want to help Mommy change Fern’s diaper?” Both of them nodded, both dutiful and excited, and each took one of Fern’s hands, spinning her and pulling her right back up the stairs. One question broke through the noise of confusion in Fern’s mind. “‘Mommy’?” she asked, baffled, stumbling to keep up. Every step squelched her freshly soggy diaper against her, building her arousal a little more. “Isn’t she your aunt?” Smirking, the girls shared a look. Leah offered the explanation. “That’s just what we tell boring people. You didn’t think we were actually related, did you?” “She’s our Mommy, we’re her Little Girls, none of us are legally family,” Carolyn added, filling in the practical details. “We promise to follow her rules, and she takes care of us!” Dazed, Fern waddled after the girls, and soon found herself back on the changing pad, both of them fussing over her. “It’s her first diaper change,” Leah pointed out excitedly, peeling the tapes away. “Don’t be selfish, make sure she’s all clean,” Carolyn replied, pulling two wipes from the box. “It’s about her, not just us.” “I know, but–it’s so special!” Fern didn’t know if her blush could get more intense. Neither girl commanded any authority, they lacked the dominant power of their Mommy, but that didn’t make it any better–it just made Fern feel like their doll, a plaything to be cooed over. Carolyn used wipes while Leah got the baby oil out, though she only gave Fern one mischievous teasing touch before rubbing it in properly. “So?” she asked. “What did you tell Mommy?” Fern frowned. “What did I tell her about what?” Both girls stopped, looking at her. Carolyn spoke first. “Well…are you going to be our new baby sister?” It took Fern’s brain a few seconds to catch up, to understand what was being implied by that. To have what the girls had–all the time, not just for this one punishment. To feel this again. To be a part of what they had. Aurelia stepped into the bedroom, smiling down at her. “You took your punishment very well,” she explained. “If you don’t want to continue, you can put your grown up panties back on, I’ll let you stay until you can find a new apartment. I’ll be sad to see you go, but it’s your decision.” Eyes huge, Fern asked, “But if I do?” “Then, you can be mine. We’ll forgive you for your naughtiness–at least, if you think you’ve earned that forgiveness.” All three women watched Fern, who lay on the floor on top of a half-soaked diaper, naked, bottom bruised, exhilarated. “I…” she began, reeling with the options. Kneeling beside her, Aurelia rested a hand on her arm. “It’s your choice, Fern.” “I want…” Fern continued, shuddering with the thought. “May I please finish my punishment?” Aurelia’s smile broadened. “And what would you like the rest of your punishment to be, baby girl?” Cheeks burning on her face and her bottom, Fern looked down at her naked body, too ashamed to say it. “It’s okay,” Leah promised, squeezing one of her hands. “We ask Mommy for more punishment too–you don’t have to be embarrassed.” “She asks for more punishment,” Carolyn corrected, but her expression softened and she took Fern’s other hand, so that both girls were holding her. “But we know what it’s like.” “Then…” Fern began, humiliation and arousal fighting for dominance in her mind. “I’d like another spanking please, Mommy. Can you use one of the toys in your closet this time?” Standing, Aurelia walked to the bed and sat, making her lap open. “Yes you may. Bring her over here, please, girls–and then you both pick out your favorite toy, so your new baby sister can feel them.” With glee, the girls lifted Fern to her feet, practically carrying her to Aurelia. Fern found herself pushed over her lap, and felt a hand rest on her already-beaten ass while the girls went off to fetch spanking tools. “Are you ready?” Aurelia asked, softly, almost a whisper. Fern swallowed, taking stock of herself. Naked, exposed, and more excited than she’d ever been in her life. Looking over her shoulder, up at the woman who’d come to dominate her, she nodded. “Yes, Mommy, I am.” The End ... That's this story wrapped up - I had a ton of fun writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! If you want to support stories like these, consider donating a couple dollars a month on Ream or SubscribeStar - you get early access, and I get grocery money which allows me to write! It's a win win! https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Mission Improbable (Part 8 of 13) When Tracy woke up, she felt a little like she was cuddling an octopus. Not in a cold and clammy way, but there were limbs everywhere. There were arms wrapped around her from both directions, a warm breath tickling her neck and soft, bunched-up cotton against her face. Tracy opened her eyes. The morning sunlight filtered in through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the bed and the three naked bodies on it. Well, one naked and two almost naked bodies. Kat's tank top had slid up and she had managed to get one of her arms out of it, exposing half her chest. Tracy smiled and reached down to check her diaper. Still dry. She tried to wriggle out from between Kat and Cory. "Don't," Cory murmured from behind Tracy's back. She slid closer to pin Tracy in place. "Hmm?" Kat opened her eyes. She pulled her tank top away from her face and looked down at Tracy. "G'morning," she said sleepily. "Hey," Tracy replied, suddenly feeling very awkward lying between the two women. Kat noticed how high up her top was and grinned mischievously. "Aww, did my little baby want some breakfast?" Tracy blushed furiously as Cory chuckled behind her back. "Be nice babe," Cory said and brushed the hair out of Tracy's face. "You don't always have to try to embarrass people you know." Tracy wasn't quite sure how she felt about Cory defending her like that. I felt nice to have an ally against Kat, but on the other hand, she did kind of like it when Kat babied her. Up to a point, at least, and as long as it was in private. "I'm sorry sweetie." Kat kissed Tracy's forehead. Then she reached over her to run her fingers through Cory's hair. "So, did the two of you sleep well?" "Like a log." Cory reached over Tracy to grab Kat's butt. "But next time we do this, we do it at my place. My bed is bigger." "Mmmm, now you're just giving me ideas." Kat smiled. Cory moved her hand from Kat's butt to Tracy's hip, letting it rest on the plastic of her diaper. Do you two want some time alone to... you know, handle things?" Kat looked down at Tracy again. "Well Häschen? Do you need to be changed?" "Kaaat," Tracy whined, her cheeks reddening again at how straight-forward Kat was being about her using diapers. "Oh come on. You've been lying between us wearing nothing but a diaper the whole night." Kat leaned closer and whispered theatrically: "I think Cory may have noticed it." "No, I'm still dry," Tracy mumbled into Kat's chest where she'd buried her pink face. "Well, I have work in a little while, so I have to get going anyway." Cory sat up and half crawled, half slid off the bed. Standing naked in the stripy morning light, she stretched and sighed softly, looking like something out of a soft-core porno movie. Then she cracked her neck, immediately ruining that mental image. Tracy watched her before looking back at Kat. "Kat, you're drooling," she said, amused that Kat actually reached up to the corner of her mouth. Cory laughed. She leaned down and gave Tracy a kiss on the cheek, then she gave Kat a significantly longer kiss on the lips. Tracy couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy at that kiss, although she wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to be the one to kiss Kat like that, or if she also wanted a kiss like that. Before Tracy could make up her mind, however, Cory had left the room. While Cory got dressed in the living room, Kat played with Tracy's hair. "So..." she said when they heard the front door close, "are you still OK with this?" Tracy thought about it a little while before she spoke. "I didn't expect her to be so..." She paused. "Unbelievably hot?" Kat suggested. "Yeah, that too," Tracy admitted. "But I was going to say 'nice'." "Aww, I just knew you'd like your new auntie." "Kat." Tracy rolled her eyes. "Oh stop that. You can let mommy have a little fun with her little bunny." Kat pulled Tracy closer and nuzzled her neck. "Mmm-kay," Tracy murmured as a delicious shiver made its way down her back to set up camp between her legs. She gave a small gasp as Kat's hand found its way down there as well. "Are you sure you're still dry?" "Mm-hmm." "Well, it's a shame to waste a perfectly good diaper, so I'm not changing you until you're wet." Kat ran her hand slowly across the taut, white plastic. "But Kat..." Tracy began. "Sshhh." Kat began to slowly rock Tracy back and forth. "Just relax. Let it all out. It's OK." "But I can't do it like this. Not with you holding your hand...there." Kat just kept rocking Tracy and stroking her diaper. "It's OK. Just relax and let it go," she repeated over and over until it was almost like a mantra. The warm sun, the gentle rocking and Kat's whisper all made Tracy feel like she was floating on a cloud. A soft, fluffy cloud that smelled just like Kat. She leaned her head against Kat's chest and closed her eyes. Listened for her heartbeat; inhaled her scent. God, she smells good. Then, after a little while, there was a momentary twinge of pressure, followed by the familiar bloom of heat spreading across her crotch and down between her legs. "Kat, I-" "Shhh. I know." Kat leaned down and kissed her forehead, letting her hair fall to create a golden cage for their faces. She kept stroking Tracy's diaper and rocking her. "Just relax; just let it all come out," she whispered. Tracy felt divided. Part of her wanted to just snuggle up to Kat and let her take care of her, floating away on that imaginary cloud for the rest of the day. Another part said that she should get dressed and get to work. After all, there were blackmailers to expose and money to be made. The former won out, at least for the time being, and Tracy surrendered herself to Kat's gentle touch. "That's a good girl," Kat whispered. "Such a good little girl." Tracy closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn't help smiling at the praise, despite its childish tone. She wasn't really a big fan of Kat talking to her as if she was a baby, but right now it just felt... right. She was Kat's little girl. It had felt so perfect spending the night just being held by Kat and Auntie Cory... Tracy stopped herself. Did she actually already think of Cory as 'Auntie Cory'? Was she really ready to share Kat with someone else? Share Kat's... love? And was she ready to share herself with Cory? Figuring out her relationship with Kat had been hard. And adding another variable to that equation would only make it that much more complex. All these thoughts whirled around Tracy's mind as she lay close to Kat. Kat's hand between her legs, stroking her wet diaper; not so much arousing her as reassuring her that Kat would love her no matter what she decided. Kat's arm around her, holding her close and making her feel safe and protected. And Kat's hand gently petting her hair... Hang on. Three? Tracy paused as basic arithmetic and anatomy caught up with her. She opened her eyes to see two pairs of eyes looking adoringly down at her. One pair framed by a blonde rats' nest, and the other, a luscious auburn mane. "Cory? What..." "I forgot my bag," Cory said sheepishly. "And then I heard the two of you. When I peeked, you looked so adorable that I just couldn't help it. And Kat said it was OK." Tracy suddenly became extremely aware of her very wet diaper. "Did you watch when I..." Tracy felt as if her entire face burned with embarrassment. "Um... kinda, yeah," Cory said. "But you don't have to feel ashamed about it," she quickly added. "I know how you feel. Trust me." Tracy looked away. She felt like she wanted to sink into the ground and disappear forever, but Cory slipped a hand under her cheek and turned her face to look into her eyes. "Trust me," she said. Something in her eyes stirred something deep inside Tracy. A feeling of kinship maybe? Of mutual experiences? "Have you...?" Tracy asked hesitantly. Cory nodded. "Still?" Cory shook her head. "It wasn't my thing," she said and looked away. After a few seconds, she stroked Tracy's cheek. "But I'm glad Kat's found someone. Someone to care for. This way, I mean." Cory stood. "I'm sorry for intruding like this. I didn't mean to..." She paused. "Can you forgive me?" Tracy didn't say anything, but reached out for Cory's hand. When Cory offered it, Tracy brought it to her face, letting it cup her cheek as she kissed the palm. Cory breathed an audible sigh of... relief? Then she hurried out again, leaving Kat and Tracy alone once more. "Weeeell... that went well," Kat said after a long, awkward silence. Tracy looked up at her and Kat looked back. Then she began to laugh. A giggle at first, but soon they were both rolling on the bed, laughing and gasping for breath. Kat almost fell off the bed and Tracy was pretty sure her diaper got just a little bit wetter. Eventually they both calmed down enough to talk without breaking into new fits of laughter. Kat held Tracy close and rested her head against her chest. Tracy wondered if she should play into Kat's mommy-thing and seek out her breast, but decided against it. Maybe another time. If I do it now, we're never getting out of here. "I'm sorry," Kat said. "I shouldn't have invited Cory back in without checking with you first. I wasn't really thinking." "It's OK," Tracy said, drawing lazy, little circles on Kat's stomach. "I think I'm going to have to have a little talk with her about a few things though." "Oh?" Tracy nodded. "But not just yet." They lay there for a while longer, just enjoying the closeness. Eventually, Kat spoke again. "So, I suppose we should get you cleaned up and changed." Tracy sighed. "Yeah, I guess it's time." Kat grabbed a box of wipes and knelt between Tracy's legs. After slipping a small towel under Tracy's butt, she undid the diaper and pulled it off. Despite the warm room, Tracy couldn't suppress a shiver as the fresh air hit her clammy skin. Kat quickly pulled Tracy's diaper out from under her and rolled it up. Then she began cleaning her. Tracy giggled as the edges of the wipes tickled her inner thighs. "You like that?" "Yeah. It tickles." Tracy answered while biting the tip of her thumb. "Well, try to stay still Häschen; we're almost done." A minute later, Kat crawled backwards off the bed and stood, leaving Tracy lying naked and spread-eagled on a tiny towel on the bed. She picked up the wet diaper and the used wipes and put them in a plastic bag. "And does my little baby want a nice, fresh diaper?" "Yeah, kinda. But I might have a meeting with a client so I think I should pass?" "Are you suuuuuure?" Kat waved one of Tracy's diapers back and forth. "These look aaawwwfully comfy?" Tracy smiled. "Maybe later. When this whole mess is done." "OK." Kat sounded mildly disappointed. She put the diaper down. "Can I at least make sure you eat a proper breakfast before you go?" Tracy pretended to think about it. "Okay," she said, trying to make it sound like a big sacrifice. Kat rolled her eyes and left the bedroom. Tracy picked up her clothes and dressed quickly. She felt sort of sticky with day-old sweat and decided that a long, hot shower would be at the top of her to-do list for when she got home. When she walked through the door Kat handed her a fresh cup of coffee and a bread roll. Tracy sipped the coffee and sat down to check the results of the malware scrubber. According to the summary on the laptop, the computer, and four of the thumb drives had all been infected, but the phone and drone controller had been clean. I guess they didn't have time for those. Tracy updated her defence programs to look for similar programs. She also sent the quarantined malware files to a couple of hacker acquaintances. Then she took the phone off airplane mode and checked the messages that had accumulated over the last eighteen hours. A few spam messages that had managed to evade her spam filter, two messages with some background information for an old case that she had finished already and a reminder to renew a subscription to a website. None of them were particularly important. The only thing that really mattered was the message from Marko that had been sent only two hours earlier. According to the long, rambling message, Marko had found half a dozen cameras and microphones in her office. He also said that he cleared them out and installed a couple of cameras to keep an eye on the door and windows in case someone else broke in. The passwords and frequencies for them had been left on a thumb drive with "the old guy in the parking garage". Tracy bit into the roll which sprayed a shower of crumbs and earned her a disapproving look from Kat. "What. You gave it to me. Did you expect me not to eat it?" Kat rolled her eyes. "Just get out of here before you spill your coffee too." "Okay mom." Tracy tried to sound like an exasperated teenager. "Talk to you tonight?" "Sure sweetie. Try not to get bugged again." She gave Trace a quick smack on her butt as she wrestled the suitcase with all her electronics out the door. *** Tracy wrapped the towel around her head like a turban and tied the bathrobe closed before leaving her bathroom. Showering had felt wonderful and it had been the second thing she did after entering her office. The first had been to change all the frequencies and passwords on the hidden cameras Marko had installed for her. She sat down at her desk and began putting her thumb drives and other electronics back in their place. Then she started up the laptop and continued going through the records she had been working on the day before. Annoyingly, the final records yielded no useful information and Tracy glared at the computer screen. "Why couldn't you be the regular kind of stupid target," she growled at the screen. "Just parking near surveillance cameras, or using crap equipment. But nooooo. You had to be good at your job; and have equipment that's so expensive and fancy that Marko needed new underwear after seeing it. And, and..." Tracy's little rant was interrupted by her burner phone ringing. It was Ms Wilford. "Yes?" Tracy sat up straighter. Ms. Wilford couldn't see her, but it still felt right to seem somewhat professional, even if she was only on the phone. And was wearing a bathrobe. "Ms. Bullit. Are you free for dinner? My client would like to meet." "Um, yes, dinner's fine," "Good. You familiar with El Campo Verde?" "No," Tracy admitted. "I can't say the name rings a bell." "It's a god-awful, Mexican sports bar downtown." Tracy could hear Ms. Wilford's grimace of disapproval. "And that's where he wants to meet?" "Thank god, no. But there's a small Indian restaurant above it that serves a surprisingly decent chicken korma. Seven thirty." Ms. Wilford hung up before Tracy had time to answer. "Well, I guess I'm having Indian tonight," Tracy said to the dead phone line. *** Finding El Campo Verde proved to be easier than Tracy had expected. Things there were so loud they could probably be heard half a block away. Tracy put one of her smallest drones on top of the sun shade to act as a spy camera before leaving the car and locking it. Getting to the door of the Indian restaurant was almost like an obstacle course of chairs and bodies. The sports bar was packed with people; many of them dressed in black and purple football jerseys. When Tracy finally managed to reach the door and climb the stairs on the other side, the noise abated somewhat, but it was still loud enough to make it hard to hear what was being said six feet away. Tracy was beginning to see why Ms. Wilford had picked this place for their meeting. Unless there was a microphone at their table, it would be virtually impossible to hear what they said. "Yes? Can I help you?" Tracy's train of thought was interrupted as a short man in a bright green Nehru jacket. Tracy was relieved that he didn't have a fake Indian accent. It really wouldn't have matched his pale, freckled skin and ginger hair. "Ms. Wilford's party?" Tracy looked around the man, trying to get a look at the other guests. She needn't have bothered. The place was almost empty. "This way please." The man led Tracy around a corner to a table where Ms. Wilford sat with a handsome, dark-haired man in his late thirties. "Ah, Ms. Bullit. Please sit." Ms. Wilford gestured to one of the empty chairs. "Ms. Wilford." Tracy sat down. "Mr...?" "Novak. Gustav Novak." Mr. Novak had a little bit of a generic eastern European accent. Tracy sat down and picked up the menu. "Oh, we're not here for the food," Ms. Wilford said. Just as she did, a roar of noise rose from the bar. "Ah, I see." Tracy looked around. "Well, the decor is nicer than the street market." "Now let's make this quick. We only have..." Ms. Wilford checked her watch, "...a little over ten minutes until half-time." "Right. So like I told you before, I think the ransomware and blackmail was just a smokescreen for your loss of that deposition. I'm guessing you still haven't heard from them?" Ms. Wilford shook her head. "Hang on. Blackmail?" Mr. Novak looked from Ms. Wilford to Tracy and back again. "Nobody said anything about blackmail." "They weren't blackmailing you Gustav." Her lack of patience audible. "Now, you said the deposition you lost was related to a divorce case; I'm guessing yours Mr. Novak. And you have no non-digital records of it?" "God, who uses those any more," Ms. Wilford said dismissively. "And is there enough money to justify the use of equipment so sophisticated that it makes my security guy drool?" "Easily," Mr Novak said. "My wife may not be a technical genius, but she knows how to spend money wisely. If she hired people for something, she would hire very well qualified people." "I guess the easiest way to find any information linking her to this whole thing would be to have a peek at her computer." Tracy picked up one of the small cakes that looked like a coil of rope and took a bite. "Thought about that. Whatever computer she used is either long gone or, more likely, cut off from the net." "So we reconnect it. You could probably do that Mr. Novak, right?" "Hardly. Whenever I'm in the house, she has a guy watching my every move. I wouldn't even be able to get into her office during her parties." "Parties?" Tracy and Ms. Wilford both asked. "She hosts these wild sex-parties every month or so. I told you about those, didn't I?" "No, you most certainly did not. So it's not just that she's trading you in for a younger model, it's this too?" "Well, yes," Mr. Novak admitted. "Anyway, like I said, even if I were to go to one of those parties, I wouldn't be able to slip away." "Well, if we were to get someone else to break in, that'd be illegal and legally I can't have any part in that." "Of course, of course." Tracy nodded, her expression one of faux seriousness. "I wouldn't dream of getting you involved in anything unethical." Ms. Wilford rose. "I have to get going. I hope you both have a good evening." "Oh, before you leave, do you know any reliable computer intrusion specialists. I may have a lead on a completely unrelated matter. Absolutely nothing to do with this whatsoever." "Of course. Call me when you have the details. I may know someone." Ms. Wilford nodded to the waiter and then headed for the door. When the door closed behind her, Mr. Novak turned to Tracy. "What was that about?" "Oh, we're totally breaking in to snoop through your wife's computer. We just can't say it in front of her. This way, she can claim we lied to her if we get in trouble." Mr. Novak nodded. "And the computer intrusion specialist?" "A hacker. I can do your everyday, run-of-the-mill hacks, but based on what you said about your wife's hiring practices, we're going to need somebody who is a lot better than me." Tracy noticed there was a lull in the noise from downstairs. "Maybe we should get some food while we wait for the second half of the match to start." Tracy eyed the menu hungrily. "How long do these half-time breaks last?" "Only fifteen minutes." "A quick snack then." Five minutes later there was a small tray of some kind of deep-fried, small buns on the table along with cups of milky tea with a deliciously spicy smell. Tracy and Mr. Novak sipped their tea silently and waited for the second half of the match to start. "So what are you planning?" Mr. Novak asked once the noise had risen to an acceptable level again. "Your wife's parties; what kind of party are we talking about?" "What do you mean?" "Swingers? Furries? Good, old-fashioned orgies?" "They spank each other. And lead each other around on leashes and things like that," Mr. Novak said, obviously feeling very awkward. "Ah, I see." Tracy took another sip of tea. "Did you ever go to any of these parties?" "Good heavens no. I steer well clear of the house whenever she throws them." "Well, you're going to the next one. Do you know when it is?" "Sometime next week. Friday or Saturday, I think. I was planning to leave town for the whole week." "Find a reason to stay. We're crashing the party." "You and me?" Mr. Novak's eyes were wide with surprise. "Oh no. Your wife's people undoubtedly know my face. But I think that could work in our favour." Tracy sat back. She had the beginning of a plan. ***

The excitement is palpable, and it's clear that the experience was remarkable. Please proceed.

Chapter Two Fern withered under Aurelia’s glare, and despite being fully clothed, she felt utterly naked. She’d been caught, exposed. Sneaking through her landlady’s private things. It didn’t occur to her that she’d found anything incriminating, that she could accuse Aurelia of anything–in Fern’s mind, her half-formed fantasies may as well have been projected in front of the gorgeous woman before her, and she couldn’t form thoughts beyond her own mortification at being caught. “Aurelia,” Fern began, stammering. “I–I was–” “You were just rooting through my private things,” Aurelia declared, walking forward. She was taller than Fern by half a foot, and her emerald green eyes saw right through Fern’s weak protests. “I let you into my home, I gave you my trust, and you repaid that by spying on me and my girls?” (She knows.) Fern’s throat went dry, and the thought of lying didn’t even cross her mind. She nodded meekly, looking down to avoid the woman’s steely gaze. “Pack your things,” Aurelia whispered, her face only a few inches from Fern’s, her voice quiet and hard, barely concealing her anger. “If you cannot respect me, you are not welcome in my home.” Panic rising, Fern shook her head, stepping back to escape from the woman’s intensity. “No, I–I promise, I wasn’t–I just needed to see!” She couldn’t end up out on the street–she had enough money to get a hotel for a while, and maybe she could find some fleabox apartment to stay in, but… But she didn’t want to leave. “You saw,” Aurelia snapped. “I hope it was worth it.” Fern shook her head again, trying one last time. “Please, Aurelia, I just…when I saw you with your nieces, I…I had to know more. I couldn’t help myself, but I promise it will never happen again, I won’t say a word, I…” Feeling small, she whispered, “I’m begging you.” To her surprise, Aurelia’s face softened by just a degree. Almost smiling, she took a step forward, backing Fern up against the shelf of diapers. “You know, you remind me of my girls.” Fern’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” “I mean,” Aurelia said, setting her jaw, “that you need someone to teach you a lesson about how to behave properly.” She loomed over Fern, and Fern’s whole body trembled, staring up into Aurelia’s implacable eyes. “If you want to stay,” Aurelia told her, making her words slow and precise so that she could not be misunderstood. “I will need to believe you have learned your lesson, and that you will not break my trust again. You will need me to punish you. Am I understood?” Heart pounding, taking shallow breaths, Fern nodded. “You can ask to stop,” Aurelia continued. “At any time. If you say ‘Red’, I will immediately stop, and your punishment will be over–but if you do so, I expect you to be gone before the end of the day.” Fern nodded again, flushing with fear and anticipation, confusion and anxiety blurring with eagerness she didn’t fully understand. “So, you’re going to take your punishment?” Aurelia concluded. Fern nodded a third time, but that wasn’t good enough. “Be good for me, use your words.” Feeling like she was gasping for air, Fern let the answer tumble out of her mouth, excitement and terror blending as she saw all the implements around her. “I want you to punish me.” Aurelia smiled, showing teeth. “Good. Remove your scrubs, I want to see you.” Hands shaking, Fern never looked away from the woman’s eyes as she worked the buttons of her scrub shirt, letting it fall off her slender shoulders and to the ground. Her pants came next, tugging the waistband over her hips, stretching the elastic past her toned ass until gravity took over and they fell to the floor, exposing bare, athletic legs. Stepping out of the clothes, Fern began to cross her arms over her chest, but Aurelia caught her wrists. “No,” Aurelia warned, sounding pleased as she inspected Fern’s body. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” Lowering her hands to her side, Fern felt butterflies flutter in her chest as Aurelia reached down, undoing her sports bra, revealing firm breasts as the garment fell away. Smirking down at her, Aurelia then moved to Fern’s last layer of clothing, her panties–Fern had chosen a lace pair, pink and delicate, and it wasn’t until this moment that she understood why. She’d wanted this woman to see them. She wanted this woman to take them from her. Aurelia complied, hooking her thumbs into the panties and slowly pulling them down, until they hung around Fern’s ankles, leaving her totally nude in the room full of sex toys. The older woman turned towards her bedroom, strolling with purpose that indicated she expected Fern to follow without question. Fern complied, stepping completely out of her panties, feeling more exposed than ever as she moved into the bedroom proper. Pointing at a spot in the center of the room, Aurelia instructed, “Stand with your hands behind your head. Do not move.” Nodding, Fern stepped up and did as ordered, legs pressed together, frozen in place by the command. “Spread your legs,” Aurelia chided, and Fern obeyed, sinking lower as she pushed her feet apart. Strutting a slow circle around her, Aurelia’s eyes drank in every bit of Fern’s body, from her pert breasts to her smooth, perfect thighs. She reached out, pulling a lock of dark hair over Fern’s shoulder, then squeezing her cheek just to make the girl blush. “You’re beautiful,” Aurelia commented, so confident that it seemed less like a compliment and more like a statement of fact. Stepping behind Fern once again, she ran a fingernail up the girl’s back, starting from her waist and tracing up the small of her back, sending shivers down Fern’s spine. Fern gasped as Aurelia reached up, laced her fingers through Fern’s dark hair and pulled tight, yanking her back in a possessive grip. Lips only inches away from Fern’s ear, Aurelia purred, “I am going to enjoy punishing you.” Wincing and whimpering at the pain in her scalp, Fern found herself unable to respond before Aurelia pulled her to the side, leading her by the hair to the foot of the bed. She yelped, but didn’t even consider asking Aurelia to stop. Using her thick hair as a leash, Aurelia sat on the bed and pulled Fern over her lap, so that her head faced the foot of the bed. She finally let go, but only so that she could take Fern’s slender wrists in her own powerful hand, pinning Fern’s arms to the small of her back so that she could not move or wriggle away. Fern knew what came next. She’d seen it–the gorgeous woman’s hand on the tight, aching bottoms of the girls. And now, she– SMACK! Aurelia’s hand came down on Fern’s bare skin, and she yelped, gasping at the sudden stinging pain. SMACK! A second identical hit came down on her other cheek, leaving identical tenderness behind. She kicked her legs and whimpered. Ten more smacks on each side–each with the same stinging fire and intensity, each making her gasp in paint. It hurt, enough to steal all her focus, so that she could think only about the pain shooting up from her tender cheeks. Pausing for a moment, Aurelia rested her hand on Fern’s bottom, fingernails tracing tiny circles over the tender skin. “There,” she said. Fern sighed in relief. That wasn’t so bad after all, she– “Now you’re warmed up,” Aurelia continued. “And I can start the spanking properly.” Her eyes had time to widen just a fraction before Aurelia drew back and brought her hand down, and Fern realized only then that she’d been holding back. Fire shot up from her ass and she cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. More strikes came down, lightning bolts of pain that didn’t hold back, and Fern began to kick and squirm, body acting involuntarily as she tried to get free of the hold. She couldn’t–Aurelia’s grip was ice and iron, and no amount of squirming could get her off the woman’s lap. Tears began to roll down her face, just as she’d seen on Leah, and she began to beg, though her thoughts were so muddled by pain that she couldn’t form proper words. Babbling, Fern survived the spanking, lasting until Aurelia finally stopped the rain of blows. Even without the assault, her ass was on fire, bright red pain and heat radiating from her, and when a gentle hand rested over her skin, they felt cold and hot all at once. Whimpering, Fern buried her face in the bed, body limp as Aurelia let go of her arms. “Alright,” Aurelia said, calmly, as though instructing a child. “I want you to hold on to the blankets.” Confused but obedient, Fern pulled her arms in front of her, grabbing on. “If you fall off my lap,” Aurelia warned, reaching out to her night stand, though Fern couldn’t see what she picked up. “Or squirm so that I have to stop, we will start over from the beginning. Do you understand?” It took a moment for Fern to follow, to realize what she was being told. (We’re not done.) Swallowing, she grabbed a little tighter onto the blankets, and for Aurelia’s part, she seized Fern’s hair, pulling tight so that Fern was forced to arch her back. WHACK! Fern cried out as something hard struck her–not Aurelia’s hand, but a solid object. Her mind flashed with the array of spanking implements she’d seen, but Aurelia hadn’t brought those with her. She’d taken something from her– WHACK! (It’s her hairbrush,) Fern realized, and that was her last cogent thought before the spanking accelerated to a fever pitch. No more stinging, the new impacts thudded into the meat of her ass, bruising force that never struck in the same place twice, raining down heavy blows that shook her to her core. Fern began to sob, tears flowing freely, the strands of hair not clutched in Aurelia’s grip sticking to her skin as she wailed. At some point Aurelia discarded the hairbrush, reaching down instead for her slipper, a tool that was somehow worse–it flexed, giving it a whip-snap crack with every impact, faster and more brutal than even the brush. She could have ended it. Aurelia gave her that option, but even as Fern reminded herself of the possibility in a fleeting moment of lucidity, she shook it away. Blows rained down until her throat ran dry and her face was streaked with lines from makeup, snot and tears dripping down her nose and chin. The spanking, finally, stopped, and she felt Aurelia’s cool touch against the skin of her back. Fern cried a little longer, breathing heavily, endorphins rushing through her body. She hurt, and yet she felt energized all at the same time, on a terrible precipice, teetering between being able to continue or falling apart completely. “I’m proud of you,” Aurelia whispered. “Shh, little girl. Come here.” Gentle hands guided Fern upright, into a sitting position. Though her bottom ached, burned, stung, felt every miserable pain she could imagine, the soft blankets felt good on her skin, and Aurelia’s touch melted away her worries. She trembled, and Aurelia pulled her into a hug, holding her close. “You’re a good girl,” she praised. “Such a good girl. I didn’t know if you could take it, but you did, so well.” Fern felt a wash of pleasure, goosebumps raising on her skin at the words, body prickling to life. Aurelia’s hug shifted, hands pulling away, and before Fern understood what was happening, she felt fingers against her nipples, brushing and squeezing. Unable to help herself, Fern moaned, pleasure bubbling to the surface at Aurelia’s touch. In just a few seconds, she’d become more turned on than she could remember, just from the gentle, firm, slightly sadistic touch of Aurelia’s fingers on her breasts. Pinching her nipples with one hand, Aurelia’s fingers drifted down, brushing Fern’s sex. She was dripping wet, arousal washing down her thighs, and the parts of her that might have objected were beaten down and too weak to complain. She’d taken her punishment–this was her reward, she’d earned it, and Aurelia’s touch made her moan– “That’s enough,” Aurelia interjected, pulling her hand away, leaving Fern so frustrated she wanted to scream. “Follow me.” Fern was left gasping and exasperated, denied pleasure boiling inside her. Aurelia got to her feet, waiting just a moment for the girl to follow, acting as though she hadn’t just toyed with Fern like her body was remote-controlled. Gathering her senses, Fern scrambled up and after the woman, aware of every motion by how it caused her butt to ache. A stool sat in the luxurious bathroom, waiting for her. First, though, Aurelia passed her a tall glass of water. “Drink. I won’t have you dehydrated from crying.” Fern drank the whole cup in a single long motion. Aurelia’s care energized her, the cool water easing her dry dry throat, and she sighed in relief. When she finished, Aurelia pointed at the stool. “Bend over, and wait.” Fern obeyed, dropping to her knees to do so, kneeling in front of the stool and then bending over so that her body rested atop it, propped up without needing to rely on her arms. The pose left her bottom in the air once more, exposed. Aurelia left her there, returning to the closet of toys, and Fern felt a spike of panic, imagining another spanking, only this time with the canes and paddles she’d seen arranged on that shelf. Little flashes of her nursing experience came to her–it was just blunt tissue damage, bruising. No matter how much it hurt, she wasn’t maimed or permanently injured. She’d likely be left stinging for days, wincing every time she sat, but she hadn’t been hurt in a way that wouldn’t heal, and it was unlikely that even a paddle or cane would cause that sort of damage, not in Aurelia’s careful hands. The idea of another spanking filled her with nervous energy–could she make it through that? Knowing that her body wasn’t in danger, only her pain tolerance and willpower? She wanted to know, and was terrified to try, but she wasn’t going to get another spanking. When Aurelia returned, Fern finally realized why they’d come to the bathroom. The matron stepped around Fern so that the girl could see what she carried: a rubber enema kit and a lengthy hose, the bag larger than the one she’d used on the girls the night before. “We’re going to fill you up,” she warned. “And you will hold it, for fifteen minutes, before you can release. If you let go too soon, we will start over from the beginning.” Fern nodded. “If I can’t hold it, I get another enema,” she confirmed, saying it to herself as much as to Aurelia. “No,” she snapped, crouching to look Fern in the eyes. “We start over from the beginning.” Fern swallowed, fear welling in her eyes as she watched the older woman set to work. Soap and warm water poured into the enema bag until it was half full, which she hung from a shower rod, keeping the nozzle closed for the time being. Turning to move behind Fern, she knelt, searching with the tip of the nozzle. It found its opening, and without any warm up, pushed inside her, filling her up with the length of hard plastic. Fern gasped, and when Aurelia turned the nozzle and released the water, she gasped again. Warmth flowed into her–not hot enough to be a discomfort on its own, but enough that she couldn’t ignore it. She could feel her belly swelling, feel the water stretch her, cramps beginning to assault her as the soapy liquid sloshed inside. Aurelia didn’t do half measures. Seemingly determined to break the girl, she let the water flow until every drop had drained inside the target of her punishment. Fern whimpered, struggling to keep her bowels in check, to keep the enema inside. Cold cramps ran up her body, discomfort from the overfilling, and as the slick nozzle pulled free of her, she almost felt herself lose control then and there. She didn’t–she kept her body in check, though she trembled as she did so. “Get up,” Aurelia told her, unsympathetic to Fern’s discomfort. “Now.” Fern winced as she did so, a hand moving to her belly as the water sloshed inside her. “The corner.” Aurelia pointed. “I want your nose in it until I tell you your time’s up. Remember the consequences for failure, little girl.” Waddling to obey, Fern planted her nose in the cool corner, hands drifting behind her, down to her aching cheeks, wanting to rub away– A hand swatted her tender backside and she yelped, pulling her hands away. “You know better than that,” Aurelia warned. “I–” Fern began to protest, but she was shut down immediately. “Don’t pretend you didn’t watch every second of it. You can’t hide from me. Now, hands behind your head.” Meekly, Fern obeyed, feeling pathetic and small, helpless and in pain, and hopelessly, completely turned on. Aurelia left her there. Fern could hear the woman’s footsteps as she walked out of the bathroom, though the door remained open. At any moment, the older woman could look in and see Fern there, shaking, struggling with the cramps that her soapy enema racked her with, but Fern could not see back, she could only see her own eyes reflected in the smooth, glassy tile wall. She couldn’t deny anything, not to herself, and not to Aurelia, either: She had wanted this. She had craved this. When she saw what was done to the girls, she’d imagined herself in their place, and knew she had to find out what it felt like. Sure, she had the practical motivation–to make it through her punishment and keep her home–but that barely factored into her thoughts anymore. And now, she did, and while she fought to contain the enema that swelled her belly, she found herself dripping, so turned on that she could have climaxed in seconds had she free reign of her body. Even then, she was tempted to reach down and finger herself, but the fear of Aurelia’s watchful eyes froze her and kept her obedient. Seconds dripped by, heartbeats, where she could do nothing except stew in her humiliation, her aches, her stinging pains, and her arousal. She had taken more than she imagined, and yet she wanted more. She wanted– “Is something wrong?” Aurelia asked, behind her, coming from nowhere. Fern squeaked and shook her head. “N-no ma’am!” “Your legs are shaking,” Aurelia explained, stepping forward, grabbing Fern’s ass cheeks with both hands and squeezing. “It’s as though you’re struggling.” Fern whimpered, pain shooting back to life at the woman’s touch, terrified at the thought of losing control. “P-please…” Laughter like silver bells rang in Fern’s ears, and Aurelia whispered, “Your time is up. You can empty yourself and clean up, then I have so much more to do to you.” ... The final chapter of this story is already up in early access for my subscribers! Plus a buncha other early access and exclusive content! Your support helps me write ❤️ https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl/ https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

I wouldn't call us a cult of positivity exactly. We call people out when their fantasies go too far or the dreaded "in the news" appearances. Obviously you wouldn't want to hang out here if you were avoiding ABDL.

I came across The Quitting Sub-Reddit ABDL before last year or so, had a bit of a mini-crisis. I see it as a good thing to have an alternative community for those who make the personal choice not to indulge in ABDL desires for whatever reason that might be. As long as the quitters and indulgers don’t step on each others toes and both have their own space to do whatever then it’s all good.

I realized I was a week or three behind, so you're getting two chapters this week! Seventy-Seven I still wasn’t used to the idea of getting ready for work in the morning. For some time now, my mornings consisted of being woken by Mommy, getting my diaper changed, having breakfast made for me, and then being sent off to the living room with my cartoons. Now, after a diaper change and breakfast, there was a stack of adult clothes waiting for me to slip into. Tight, restrictive, adult clothes. Something seemed off, though, and I wasn’t completely sure what it was until I spotted Mommy again in the kitchen after I had gotten dressed. “Are you not going to the office today?” I asked. Her yoga pants and t-shirt couldn’t have been further from what she normally wore to work. In fact, she rarely looked this schlubby when it was just in the house. “Not today, Baby.” “But…” “Don’t get your diaper twisted. I’ll still be driving you to the office. But then I’m coming back home.” “Are you okay? Are you sick? Are you…” “I’m fine,” she said, smiling. “Thank you for caring, Baby. Mommy just needs a little me-time this morning. And then, this afternoon, I have an appointment that I’m not really looking forward to.” “An appointment?” I asked. “What kind of appointment?” My mind quickly scrolled through the worst-case scenarios. Some sort of diagnosis from her doctor? Business issues? A job opportunity that would take her far, far, away from me? “It’s nothing you should trouble yourself over right now,” she said. “I promise, we can talk about it more later.” I wanted to trust her, but it was the ‘right now’ part that troubled me. Did that mean, at some point, I’d have to trouble myself over it? I let it go. Clearly she was already feeling stressed about it, and she didn’t need me badgering her for more information. I gave her a tight hug as a show of support, which she reciprocated by tightly grasping my body as well. Soon after, I was in the passenger seat as she drove. Sitting next to me was a bagged lunch she had packed for me. I hadn’t looked to see what she packed, but judging by the shapes I could feel through the paper bag, there was at least a baby bottle waiting for me. While I had no doubt that whatever she had packed would be received well by the office, I also knew that it’d probably cause me to blush. Future-me problems, I told myself. It felt right to offer one more sign of support for whatever it was that seemed to be weighing heavily on her mind–whatever it was that involved her ‘appointment’: “Mommy, whatever’s going on, I’m sure it’s going to work out for the best. These things usually do–especially when you’re involved.” She took a hand off the wheel and put it on my thigh. “You’re a sweet boy, Clarky. I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, but it continues to be true.” “At least ease my mind a little,” I said. “You’re not, like, dying, are you?” “No,” she said, chuckling a little as she stared ahead. “It’s nothing like that.” “Oh. Well…that’s good.” “I promise you, I’ll tell you everything soon enough.” “Okay,” I said, believing that. “Clark?” “Yes?” “This is going to sound like a silly question, but I need to ask it anyway. You know that I love you, yes?” “Of course.” “I do. I love you very much, Clark. In fact, it’d be hard for me to think of anyone I love more than you. And that’s not just in some romantic way. That’s a familial love. That's friendship love. That’s a love I thought I’d only feel for my actual flesh and blood–if I ever had children. I love you, Clark.” “I…I know that. And I love you too. But…” “I just wanted to say that,” she said. “That’s all. I wanted to make sure that it was extremely clear.” “I do understand that,” I nodded. Her words were making me nervous. It sounded like the sort of thing people said in movies before they sacrificed their lives. Or…made some sort of questionable decision. This was usually the point where I’d start to panic or overthink things–but I trusted Mommy far too much to let my worries get the best of me just yet. Soon enough, as she said, I’d have answers. And when I did, I had no doubt that everything would make sense. “I hope you have a good day at work, Baby,” she said, pulling up in front of the office building. She leaned towards me, planting a wet kiss on my cheek. “I’ve asked Lyndie to keep an eye on you today. Try not to give her much trouble, okay?” I shrugged, laughing. “No promises.” “That’s a good boy,” she smirked. “Now, off you go. I’ll see you tonight.” No sooner than I had departed the car, Mommy was off and down the road, headed back to the house, I presumed, for her me-time. It was a rare occurrence for Mommy to just stand, or sit, still–it seemed like she was always doing something. Always moving. I tried to imagine what her me-time would even look like. A giant cup of tea–or glass of wine–while she watched soap operas? Did she read a book in the bathtub? She did like to read–though her taste in books never seemed especially relaxing either. True crime and true crime adjacent, usually. How she didn’t have nightmares about it all was beyond me. “Good morning, Clark,” Amber said as I approached the front desk. “G-good morning.” Amber seemed nice, and Mommy spoke highly of her, but I had yet to get a good read on her. She was distant enough from the baby-shenanigans that I just didn’t know what went through her mind when she saw myself or Risa waddling around in diapers. “Think you’ll be alright without your Mommy today?” Was she mocking me? Or was that a genuine question? “I, uh, think I’ll be good.” “Of course he’ll be alright,” said another voice. Lyndie was approaching. “He’s got me looking after him.” “Good morning, Lyndie.” We walked deeper into the office, and when I felt we were far enough away, I had a question: “How do you feel about her?” “Amber? She’s cool. Don’t expect her to change your diaper, but she’s never going to give you any problems.” “Hey, uhm, do you know anything about Mommy staying home today?” I asked. “Some sort of appointment?” She was quick to shake her head. The suspicious part of me thought it was way too quick. “Can’t say I do,” she shrugged. I wasn’t about to call Lyndie a liar, so I kept my doubts to myself. “So, how’s the diaper doing this morning?” she asked, her hand giving my bottom a good firm pat. Behind us, I could hear Risa giggling, causing my cheeks to blush. “Dry so far,” I said. “I’ll check again soon enough,” Lyndie assured me. “Well, you know where to find me.” I sunk into my office chair and booted up my PC. There was actual work to do. Actual responsibilities. I still wasn’t used to how novel this felt. I had a few tasks assigned to me–nothing that seemed extremely critical or urgent. Likely just the boring and tedious tasks that nobody else wanted to do–the sort of stuff that would’ve been relegated to the interns, if this company had them. Interns. Wow. That used to be me. There was some file organization to do. Some data entry. Some proofreading on an early draft of an employee handbook. There was a folder of images that needed to be moved to another server to be used on the company’s still-developing website. “Are they giving you lots of work to do?” Risa asked, strolling up to my desk. There was a baby bottle in her hand, filled with what looked to be milk. She casually tipped it into her mouth, suckling from the nipple. When she was done, she wiped the drips of white liquid from her lips with the back of her hand. All without the slightest care in the world as to what other people might think. Too, her attire was quite infantile–a colorful onesie underneath some pastel pink overalls. I wondered if she actually wore this into the office or if she changed into this outfit when she got here. I tried to imagine someone walking down the street in this get-up, but it just didn’t seem likely. “I’ve got a bit, yeah. Enough to keep me busy today.” “Same,” she said. “It feels like there’s always something to do. But I like that.” “How, uh, are you feeling about the company?” I asked. It felt like just small talk, but I was genuinely curious to get more insight on her thoughts about this place. “Love it,” she said. “It’s like a dream job. I’m getting paid while I’m using my diapers, you know?” “How do you like Ms. Beaufort?” “Oh, she’s the best. And the, uhm, breastfeeding? Like…holy shit.” I laughed and nodded my head. “It’s nice.” She grabbed a chair pulling it up alongside my desk and took a seat. “You know, I just want to say, you’re, like, my hero.” Lyndie had mentioned something like this to me when I first started working in the office–something about Risa and Bradley seeing me as a legend for how I taken into Ms. Heller’s home to be treated like a big baby for a good length of time. Still, hearing her say this to me now, my only response was: “Huh?” “Like, man, I would kill to live like you do. Okay, well maybe not kill, but you know what I mean.” I wasn’t sure that I did, but I nodded anyway. “That had to be awesome, right? Living the dream? Full-time baby?” “It certainly had its perks,” I shrugged. I opted not to talk about the downsides. The feeling I had of being so far behind now–the insurmountable amount of catching up that I felt I had to do now. The loss of familial and friendly connections. “I’ve got so many questions for you,” she said. “But if I start asking them, I’m sure we’ll be here all day.” “Well, uh, I’m around if you ever want to chat.” I was just being polite. I didn’t mind talking to her about my experiences, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable about the idea of just being interviewed by someone I barely knew. “Good morning, Clark,” said another voice, just beyond Risa. I looked up to see Ms. Beaufort’s smiling face–and her ample milk-filled bosom. “H-hello, Ms. Beaufort.” “Oh please. It’s Auntie.” I tried that again: “Good morning, Auntie.” “My assistant isn’t being too distracting, is she?” “N-no,” I stammered. “Of course not.” “She can be a chatty little baby. But that’s why we have this.” Ms. Beaufort revealed a pacifier and slid it into Risa’s mouth. Risa’s cheeks blushed as she looked down at the floor. I was tempted to reiterate that Risa had done nothing wrong, but it didn’t really seem important. As embarrassed as Risa seemed to be, I could tell that this was also the sort of thing she lived for. Relatable, really. I’d have died if Mommy pushed a pacifier into my mouth back at the old office, in front of my other co-workers–but I’d have thought about that moment for weeks after. “And, one more thing,” Ms. Beaufort said, helping Risa to her feet. “Let’s check on the status of your diaper, hmm?” Risa let out a meek moan of protest through her pacifier, though did little to actually resist. Of course her diaper was going to get checked right here, in the middle of the office. That was how this place worked. Ms. Beaufort unlatched the shoulder straps from the overalls, letting them tumble down Risa’s legs. Next, her hand reached between Risa’s legs and gave the bottom of the onesie a good tug to pull the snaps apart. Next, the onesie was pulled up past Risa’s hips so that her diaper was exposed. I had been told previously that Risa was all about the cloth diapers, and here they were. I was expecting a pair of plastic pants, but these were more like a cloth diaper cover–I suspected they had a waterproof liner. I couldn’t see the cloth diaper itself, but given the bulky shape of her bottom, I had to imagine it was pretty thick. I was curious to see how Ms. Beaufort would go about checking diapers like this, since you couldn’t really see the cloth diaper itself. Sure enough, waiting just another moment revealed that answer, as Ms. Beaufort’s hand gently squeezed the bottom of the diaper. I imagined that she knew the feel of a wet diaper. Then, she lowered her head closer to Risa’s bottom and gave it a quick sniff. It didn’t seem necessary–messy diapers rarely needed that thorough of an investigation to identify–though I suspected this was more for show. Really, if all she was going to do was to squeeze the diaper, she probably didn’t need to unsnap the onesie. This was just how this place worked. “Wet,” Ms. Beaufort announced–just as much to Risa as it was to anyone who felt like listening. “It could probably hold more though. I’ll be checking you again soon enough.” “Y-yes, ma’am,” Risa stated. No ‘Mommy.’ No ‘Auntie.’ It was a curious way to address her, but Ms. Beaufort didn’t seem to have a rebuttal or correction for her. As best as I could tell–’ma’am’ was just the expected way for Risa to address her at the moment. I had questions about that–but this probably wasn’t the time to seek answers. “Clarky,” Ms. Beaufort cooed in my direction, “it’s always a delight to see you in the office.” As quickly as she materialized, she floated back to her office, closing the door behind her, leaving Risa to reassemble her onesie and overalls on her own. I couldn’t help but notice the struggle she was having with the onesie snaps. “Do, uh, you need help?” I asked. “I appreciate you offering,” she said, looking up at me with glowing pink cheeks. “But I can get this.” Perhaps realizing that she was better off taking her struggles back to her own desk, she slowly shuffled backwards towards her own space, her overalls still around her ankles. By the time she got to her chair, it seemed that she at least had her onesie fastened overtop the waterproof diaper cover. I told myself again: This was just how this place worked. Soon enough, I found myself deep in my own work again. Time seemed to zip by at a quicker clip when I had purpose, and that seemed fine by me. The quicker the day went by, the sooner I could talk to Mommy about whatever it was her ‘appointment’ involved. Of course, part of losing myself to work–losing myself to anything, really–was that I stopped paying attention to my own potty-needs. Suddenly, my diaper seemed sopping wet. I had a vague recollection of it growing warmer and more swollen a few minutes earlier, but it seemed so normal and expected that I just didn’t dwell on it much. This, I presumed, would be the hardest part of potty training. Glancing over to Risa’s desk again, where she was finally sitting down after untangling the shoulder straps for her overalls, I realized that I didn’t want my next diaper-check to be a huge production. I’d be proactive, taking my diaper to Lyndie instead. “Out of work already?” Lyndie said as I entered her office. “Or…” She sniffed the air. “Nope. Doesn’t smell like a dirty diaper.” “Well, actually,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm, “I did kinda want to talk to you about my diaper…” I caught her checking the time on her smartwatch. “Hmm, it’s later than I thought it was. I suppose that was enough time for you to dirty your diaper. Just wet?” “Yes,” I nodded. “But wet enough to be changed, I think.” She laughed. “Well, you’d be the expert. Come on over to the changing table.” “You don’t mind?” “For you, Clarky? I don’t mind a bit.” Soon, I was on my back with my legs up in the air. It felt like the most normal position in the world, especially because I was in the company of Lyndie. “How goes the potty training anyway,” she asked, her lips curled into a wry smile. “Uh…I’m working on it. D-did you hear that I actually used a toilet the other day?” She snorted and shook her head. “I did not hear that. Just once?” “Well…I was at, uhm, someone’s house. And…it probably would’ve been rude of me to do in my diaper what I did in her toilet.” “Her?” Lyndie asked, honing in on the most important detail. “I need a name, Clarky. Who were you visiting? Megan?” “N-no…” Though, I still owed her a call… “Someone I know?” “You know who she is, but I don’t think you know her name.” “How much longer are you gonna leave me suspense, Clarky? Out with it. Who have you been spending time with?” “Her name is Paige…” “You’re right,” she shrugged, peeling the tapes of my diaper open. “That name means nothing to me.” “Pizza Girl.” She had to stop what she was doing and step back from the table for a moment. “Wh-what? Are you serious?” I nodded. “How in the hell did that happen?” “We…ran into each other.” “Oh shit,” she said, shaking her head. “That night at the pizza shop?” “Yeah…” “And…she gave you her number? Even though she knows about your diapers?” “Uh, funny thing about that…” I told her the whole story. I told her about the brief conversation at the pizza shop, and Paige’s note. I told her about how our little stunts back at the old apartment had somehow inspired Paige to seek out diapers of her own. I told her about the bar, and the subsequent trip to Paige’s house, where I had to make a hasty decision about where I pooped. All the while, I was laying atop the oversized changing table like it was a therapist’s couch–my diaper open and my caged cock dangling in the open without either of us batting an eye. “Hm,” was all Lyndie could offer when I finished my tale, quickly returning to the task of wiping my skin in preparation for the next diaper. “That’s…all you have to say?” She laughed and shrugged. “You have to see that this is a very ‘Clark’ problem, right?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “These sorts of things are always happening to you.” “I guess,” I said. “It’s not a bad thing. Someday, it’s all going to make a very interesting memoir.” “Who would want to read that?” She laughed again, sliding a new diaper under my freshened-up bottom. “I bet there’s an audience for that somewhere.” New diaper in place and taped up, I slid off of the changing table to get my clothes back on so that I could return to my job. Someday, returning to work after a piss could be as easy as zipping up my fly and washing my hands. Can you even imagine? “You know,” Lyndie said. “You should talk to Ava.” My ears perked up and I spun around to face her again. Did she say something? Had Ava indicated that she wanted to spend time with me too? Did Ava somehow mention that… Well, maybe it was best if I just asked: “Oh yeah?” “Well, she’s been hassling me to join her and Caleb for a night out, but I wasn’t really interested in being the third wheel. But maybe you and Paige should join them. Like a double-date? Wouldn’t that be adorable?” “Uh…maybe.” I could just imagine it: half the table sounding excessively crinkly while the other half giggled and pretended not to notice. “Ava would love it, you know,” Lyndie shrugged. “She’s always saying that she wishes she got to hang out with you more.” “Oh. Maybe it’s not a bad idea…” No, I was pretty sure that it was a bad idea. “Okay! I’ll throw the idea out there to Ava tonight.” Was it too late to tell her not to bother? Whatever. If Ava was actually interested in the idea of a double-date, I’d let her be the one to tell me that. And if, by that time, I decided it really wasn’t something I wanted to do–I’d tell Ava myself. Who was I kidding? If Ava told me to meet her on the moon, I’d drive to Florida in a heartbeat to hijack a space shuttle. The rest of the workday held few other surprises. Apart from another wet diaper of my own in the afternoon to change–and Risa scrambling to Ms. Beaufort’s office after she claimed to have ‘made pudding’ in her diaper–the day seemed light on infantile hijinks. I was productive, too, getting through almost all of my assignments, and even finding some time to organize some of Mommy’s files for her. When it came time to leave for the day, I was almost disappointed–a feeling I didn’t think I’d ever had about work before. “You ready to get out of here?” Lyndie asked. “Are you my ride home?” I asked. She nodded. “Gabby asked me to drive you back. You don’t mind, do you?” I shook my head. “No, of course not. Did she say anything to you? About what she had been up to today?” Lyndie shook her head, but it was all that convincing. She knew more than she was letting on, but it was hard to say how much. It was fine. Whatever Mommy had going on, that was her business and it was on her to tell me about it. I couldn’t hold it against Lyndie for keeping Mommy’s secrets if that’s what Mommy wanted. It was a quiet drive back. Lyndie tried to make small talk, and I did my best to roll with it–but I was back to just thinking about Mommy. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so stressed if I had an inkling of an idea as to what this was all about, but I had nothing. Zilch. Not an ounce of context. Not only that, but it felt like this mysteriously dark cloud had come from nowhere. I didn’t remember it being there yesterday morning. What changed? When? Why? How? Etc. Lyndie’s car finally rolled into Mommy’s driveway. It wasn’t always easy to determine if Mommy was home or not, because there was no way to tell if her car was in the garage or not. There was, however, another car in the driveway–one that I didn’t recognize. A white Mercedes that looked relatively new–given how exceptionally pristine it appeared. “Looks like company,” I said. Lyndie shrugged and offered a playful laugh, but it rung pretty hollow. Did she know who this car belonged to? “Let’s head inside,” she said to me, turning the car off. “You’re, uh, coming in too?” “Yeah, well, Gabby thought it might be a good idea I was here.” “Okay, so, what is going on here?” She sighed. “It’ll be okay. But we should head in. She’ll explain everything.” “Explain?” I asked. “What is there to explain?” “This isn’t a bad thing,” she said. “I promise. But you might not like it at first. And I’m really sorry about that.” “You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on?” She shook her head and waved for me to follow her up the sidewalk. I swallowed, rotated my shoulders in an attempt to loosen myself up, and let out a little spurt of pee into my dry diaper. Okay. Here we go. The front door opened and we stepped into the foyer. I could hear talking. Two voices. Both feminine. One, without a doubt, was Mommy. The other was familiar, but just muffled enough that I couldn’t make a perfect identification for. The cadence of the conversation seemed polite, but awkward. I knew Mommy’s various tones well enough. She was talking to someone she didn’t know that well. She was being cautiously friendly. The closer I got to the entrance of the living room, the more clarity the conversation had. I could hear the familiar clink of spoons in teacups. “...it’s not really my business,” Mommy was saying. “I’ve tried to encourage him to reach out, of course. But, at the end of the day, that’s not a decision that I can make for him.” Was she talking about me? “You understand why I had to assume the worst, don’t you?” the other voice asked. Oh. That voice was also very familiar to me. Suddenly, I felt myself getting a little lightheaded. Not to the point where I thought I’d topple over, but enough so that everything around me seemed a little fuzzy. Let’s get this over with, I guess. I stepped forward, clearing the corner and entering the living room. There they were: Mommy was sitting on the loveseat, a cup of tea hanging from her hand. Across from her, on the other side of the coffee table, was my mother. Annette Leiland-Ashburn, in the flesh. Finally in the same room at the same time as Gabrielle Heller. “Clark,” my mother said, standing up. “I’ve been looking for you.” Seventy-Eight In the back of my mind, I knew this day was going to come. My mother wasn’t going to just shrug, kick at the ground, and say ‘Oh well, I guess he’s gone now.’ Sooner or later, she’d accept my silence as a challenge. On one hand, it occasionally made my mother look like the Terminator–an unyielding agent who wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. On the other hand–wasn’t she just being a good mother? Her son had fallen off the grid without saying where he’d be off to–what else was she supposed to do? So I wasn’t mad to see my mother. I felt upset–but I was only upset at myself. I had ample opportunity to reach out to her and to try and explain things. I probably didn’t even have to tell her everything. Or even much at all. All I had to do was reach out and confirm that I was alive and doing well, and I could’ve bought myself more time if I wasn’t ready to have a bigger conversation with her. “Clark,” my mother said, standing up. “I’ve been looking for you.” “Well,” I said, feeling my heart shake violently in my rib cage, “you found me.” “I truly didn’t want it to come to this,” my mother said, walking towards me. “I didn’t want this to be a whole production. I just wanted to know what happened to you, and I wanted to be sure that you were alright.” Her arms opened and wrapped around me. For a moment, I was too dumbstruck to reciprocate, but I finally lifted my arms and hugged her back. “How did you find me?” I asked. The question seemed to imply things, I thought. It implied that I was trying to hide, or that I didn’t want to be found. Really, I just wanted to know what led to this moment. “I’ll take the heat for that,” Lyndie said, waving to me. “Your mother and I had exchanged numbers back when she came and got brunch with you and me.” “I only recently reached out to her,” my mother said, releasing me from her grip and stepping backward from me. “Though I probably should’ve done it much sooner.” “I wasn’t sure what to do,” Lyndie said. “I probably should’ve come right to you, Clark. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I went to Gabby instead.” “And I reached out to your mother myself,” Mommy said. I was surprised at the anger that I was feeling. I didn’t think I was mad a few moments ago, but Lyndie’s admission that she should’ve talked to me first stirred me up a little. Yeah. She should’ve talked to me first. Because now–looking around to see my mother’s, Mommy’s, and Lyndie’s concerned faces–it felt like an intervention. Or, worse, a shaming. “I’ve got to go take care of a thing or two,” I said to the women. “Why don’t you all keep talking about me without actually talking to me.” I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going, so I just let my feet take me wherever. I ended up going up the stairs to the nursery, shutting the door behind me. Fuck me. That was a temper tantrum. And for what? So that I could storm into my nursery? I checked my own diaper–as if I might’ve surprised myself by it being more used than I remembered. No, only mildly damp. I thought that I might fix that soon enough. That’s what I needed–a good load in the back of my diaper. One that I could sit on, squish all over, and stroke myself to. Supposing, of course, I had a key to the damn cage. I sat down on top of the changing table. The plan was to just do nothing for a while. Here, in my infantile sanctuary, I’d just wait out the rest of the adult world that I didn’t want to have any part of. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever, but a few minutes didn’t seem like a bad idea. I’d just sit. Think. Maybe I wouldn’t even think all that much, if I could help it. I must’ve managed to disassociate from reality a little, because when I heard footsteps approaching the nursery door, it felt like I was being woken from a nap. It was going to be Mommy, probably. She was going to apologize. She was going to say some magical thing to make me feel better about this situation. There was a knock at the door. “Yeah?” When the door opened, I saw it was Lyndie. I wasn’t mad about this, though. If anything, I was relieved to see her. Lyndie kept me grounded. “Hey,” she said, slowly entering and closing the door behind her. “Hey.” “You alright?” “Did I overreact down there?” I asked. “Look, if I were in your shoes, I’d have cursed someone out. You were pretty civil about it.” “That’s something.” “I’m sorry I went to Gabby instead of you when your mother reached out.” “It’s fine,” I sighed. “I was living my life like an infant for almost ten months now. Mommy was taking care of everything for me. I can’t, then, be surprised when everyone keeps seeing me as a baby.” “Are you gonna go down and talk to her?” she asked. “Because, if you want, I can down and tell her to fuck off.” I laughed. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. I’ll talk to her. I just needed a minute.” “You’ve been up here for a little bit. Did you need another minute? Did you need a diaper change?” Lyndie smirked “N-no. It’s dry. I checked.” Of course, I wasn’t that sure how long it had been since I first came up here. Maybe my diaper still wasn’t as dry as I remembered it being. I shifted my body a little, trying to feel how my diaper squished beneath me. It didn’t seem wet. “Well, the offer will still be on the table if you need one later.” “I’m sure, eventually, I’ll have to take you up on that.” We both laughed and shook our heads. Just another surreal moment in a long, long, series of surreal moments in our lives. “Do you remember the first time we met?” Lyndie asked. “Maybe? I’ll be honest, these days, it feels like my memories of the old office start with Mommy handing me a diaper.” Lyndie laughed. “I think I started, like, two weeks before you did. They kept telling me that there were more interns coming, and I was kind of dreading it. They put me in a fucking closet, but…it was, like, my closet, you know? And so then you showed up. I did not like you.” Maybe this shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was–I could recall Lyndie being kind of distant for those first few weeks, though I just assumed that was her personality. “Really? What was it that you didn’t like about me?” “I think I just thought that you were the person that I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be a corporate drone. I didn’t want to be indoctrinated into the world of being a ‘team player’ or having to give a shit when the company put cupcakes in the break room. But you–you just had this naiveness about you. I firmly believed that the company was going to swallow you whole and turn you into all the things that I never wanted to be.” “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess that premonition came true, huh? I became the ultimate lapdog.” “Don’t be silly, Clark. The exact opposite happened. Gabrielle made a move to get her hands on you, and the person I thought you’d be would’ve resisted. That person would’ve–I dunno–gone to HR. Quit. Got reassigned to another company for your internship. But you went for it. Even when things got weird–and they got pretty damn weird pretty damn quickly.” I had to laugh again. ‘Pretty damn weird’ was still an understatement. “I’m not all that sure what that has to do with right now,” I said. “I just wanted you to know that I look up to you. I always have. Sure, you were always the baby. The one that everyone got to take out their weird fantasies on. But you always rolled with it, embraced it, and made it your own. If you had rejected Gabrielle’s ideas early on, I definitely wouldn’t be where I am now.” “You? You look up to me?” “You think with your diaper sometimes,” she shrugged. “But you seem to keep your heart in your diaper too, so it’s not all that bad of a thing. Look, here’s my point: Whatever happens downstairs–whatever awkward conversations you have, whether it’s today or tomorrow or ten years from now, I don’t want anyone to ever make you feel like you made the wrong decisions, okay? At the end of the day, you’ve always done exactly what you wanted to do. So many people never get to live out their fantasies like you did. Maybe they can’t. Or…maybe they’re just too afraid to. But you did it, Clark. I’m proud of you. I’m happy for you. And I hope that you never let anyone else tell you that you lived your life wrong.” There was so much I wanted to say to her. So many details in her words that I wanted to comment on. But really, the only response I could give was to hug her. I slid off the changing table and threw my arms around her, squeezing as tightly as I could. “Now don’t go telling people I was being this nice to you,” she said into my ear. “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m soft.” I chuckled, finally relinquishing my grip. “Thank you, Lyndie. I really needed to hear that.” “Of course. But I meant it. Every word of it.” “I know.” Someday, I hoped to say something equally as beautiful to her. “I should probably head back downstairs,” Lyndie shrugged. “You coming with me? If you need more time to yourself, I can pass that message along for you.” “I should go too,” I sighed. I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I had run out of good reasons to hide–though I had plenty of bad reasons. “It probably won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be,” Lyndie said. “Probably?” “I mean, there’s always the chance your mother takes out a sword and cuts Gabby’s head off. Or yours. It’s not likely, but it’s possible.” The idea of this didn’t really make me feel any better, but it at least served as an interesting distraction as I tried to imagine my mother as some sort of ninja. “You’re an adult, believe it or not,” Lyndie continued. “Your mother knows that. The only reason she’s here is because she wanted to make sure you’re alive and that you’re safe.” “Yeah…but she saw photos and–” Lyndie shrugged. “So what?” Her response was so simple, so blunt, that it forced my mind into overdrive as I tried to rationalize all the concerns and fears I had developed over the last ten months. “So what? Lyndie, I sent her photos–well, I didn’t send them, but she thinks it was me–of me at one of my absolute worst moments. It’s probably changed the way she looks at me. It’ll change the way she sees me for the rest of my life. Or her life, at least.” Lyndie shook her head. “Don’t be so sure of that. Your mother isn’t this infallible being–she’s human. She’s probably had moments like this herself in her life. Like, no, she probably never wore diapers as an adult. But she probably humiliated herself in front of the wrong people. Or exposed the wrong part of herself to her mother. If what she saw in those photos disgusted her so much that it changed how she saw you, she wouldn’t have put in all the work that she did to find you. She would’ve cut you off in the same way that you cut her off.” That made sense to me. I wasn’t completely certain that I bought it, but it at least made sense. “Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.” “Worst case scenario–well, outside of the one where she has a sword–is that she says mean things to you. And then, Gabby and I tackle her and roll her out the front door.” “You’d do that for me?” “Clark, I’d roll anyone out a door for you.” “Well, uh, I’d do the same for you,” I said, despite the fact that I was hoping that there’d never be a scenario where I’d be expected to follow through on such a promise. “Perfect. So? Shall we go, then?” “Yeah…” “Wait, before we go,” Lyndie said, her lips twisted into a little smirk, “can I get a status update on that diaper?” I felt my cheeks warm a little. Somewhere in the midst of that conversation, I had felt a little trickle of pee in my diaper. It wasn’t much, and I didn’t feel especially soggy now, but I couldn’t really say that I was ‘mostly dry’ anymore. “It’s a little wet.” “Wet enough for a change?” Were it any other time, I’d have said that it wasn’t. But if I had to go back downstairs, and I had to wear a diaper while I talked to my mother, it seemed better that I do it in one that was completely dry. “I think I’d feel better if I was wearing a dry diaper.” “Wow. Changing you twice in one day? Just like the old days, huh?” The old days. Sometimes they didn’t seem that old. Sometimes they seemed like entire lifetimes ago. I was back on the changing table, my pants pulled off and the diaper opened up so that Lyndie could wipe me down. A new diaper was slid under me, and a dusting of baby powder was applied. Lyndie and I both looked at each other at the same time, likely thinking the same thing. “Should I have skipped the powder?” Lyndie asked. “It’s scented,” I said. “I’m…going to smell like a baby.” “Well, you always smell like a baby. This house smells like a baby.” “Fair enough,” I shrugged. It seemed like a moot point anyway–the powder was already on me. Soon, I was fastened into my fresh padding and my pants were eased back up my legs. That was that–there weren’t any other distractions or delays. It was time to, quite literally, meet my maker. To my surprise, when Lyndie and I came down the stairs, the tone of the conversation I was hearing in the living room was unlike anything that I expected. It wasn’t dour, nor was it awkward. It wasn’t combative. It was the sound of…camaraderie? Friendly conversation. Some laughing. “...but as cute as it was,” my mother was saying, “I knew that those were the flowers I was growing in the garden. So I was simultaneously annoyed that he had uprooted them all–but completely charmed that he had made this haphazard bouquet for me.” “Ah, Clark,” Mommy said from her couch, watching Lyndie and I slowly stroll into the room. “Your mother was just sharing some adorable memories of you.” The idea of my mother and Gabrielle Heller having a civil conversation about the embarrassing moments of my childhood was usually the sort of thing I had nightmares about. I took a deep breath and steadied myself. It felt good to have Lyndie next to me–her presence gave me strength. “Did she tell you the wedding story?” I asked. “That’s usually the first one she tells people.” Both my mother and Mommy laughed, nodding their heads. I felt my cheeks blushing some, but I did my best to shrug off the rest of my humiliation. I was trying to think two or three steps ahead. If I sat down, where did I sit–who did I sit next to? What did we talk about? How much could I say–how honest could I be–with an audience? No. I needed to just do what I should’ve done months and months ago–I needed to have a conversation with my mother. One on one. “Mom?” I asked. Amusingly, both Mommy’s and my mother’s faces perked up–though it didn’t seem like my mother noticed this. Mommy quickly realized I was talking to my mother, chuckled, and sat back in her seat. “Yes, Clark?” “I was hoping you and I could talk. Like, uh, just you and I.” “Of course. Did you want me to join you in another room, or…” “Lyndie,” Mommy said to her. “Maybe you and I can step out for a little bit?” “Sounds good to me,” Lyndie nodded. Mommy got up, waved goodbye to me, and left the room–Lyndie following behind. Finally, and for the first time in a very long time–my mother and I were in a room alone together. It wasn’t a public place. We weren’t at risk of being interrupted by anyone or anything. Unlike our moment together at brunch all those months ago, we weren’t just waiting for Lyndie to return. It was just us, and there hadn’t been a moment like this in years. “Hi Mom,” I said, sitting down in the seat that Mommy had been sitting in previously. I felt my diaper crinkling beneath me–and even though I had that extra padding between my ass and the seat, I could still feel the warmth of where Mommy’s ass had been moments before. “Hello Clark.” “I owe you an apology,” I said. “You do,” she nodded. That was my mother–a little too direct at times. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” I told her. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out–even if it was just to let you know that I was okay.” “You moved and you didn’t even tell me,” she replied. “I didn’t even know you had moved, let alone know where you had gone. What if something happened? What if I needed to get a hold of you?” I sighed, nodding my head. “S-sorry…” My mother took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it. To my surprise, when she was finished exhaling, there was a small smile on her face. “Clark, I’m not actually angry at you.” “No?” “You’re my only child, Clark. And, for a good part of your childhood, I was raising you by myself. Yes, I know I’ve been a bit overprotective in the past. Overbearing, even. I just thought that I had to be. I will probably always be very critical and concerned about your well-being. I’ll be like this when you’re fifty years old.” “Fifty?” I laughed. “I can’t even imagine that.” “It’ll happen to you someday, believe it or not,” she said. “But to my point, I think all that worrying and concern is my problem. You’re still an adult. You can, and should, do whatever it is you want to do.” Whatever it is you want to do. It felt like she was tip-toeing around what she knew, or thought she knew, about my lifestyle. “But,” I said, “I shouldn’t hide from you. You should know where I live.” She laughed. “It’d be nice. Though…I suppose that’s really up to you. It occurred to me today, as I was driving here, that I might not have had the right to just barge into your life. If you didn’t want to talk to me anymore–or if you didn’t want me to know where you were–I suppose that’s a right you have too.” “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I’m glad we’re talking.” Sure, it wasn’t really that simple–I had plenty of thoughts about the timing of this visit and if she had, in fact, ‘barged’ into my life. But I had known for a very long time that I wanted to talk to her–and if she hadn’t done so, who could say how long it would be before it actually happened. “Good,” she said. “Look, maybe we should rewind a little. Those pictures that I sent you…” “No,” she said, wagging a finger at me. “You don’t owe me an explanation for those, just so you know. Unless it’s something you truly think that I should know.” I laughed. It probably wasn’t really that funny–especially not to her–but I couldn’t help myself. On no planet would I ever think that it was important that my mother know I was willingly using diapers and acting like a baby. “I think we’re better off not talking about it,” I said. She nodded. “Fair enough. I deleted the photos, just so you know. I don’t have them anymore. I only ever looked at them once–and that was more than enough.” The photos were burned into my memory–I felt like I knew every single pixel of them. They probably were a lot for her to see. Especially without context. “Gabrielle seems nice,” my mother said, looking around the living room. “And she seems invested in your happiness–whatever that entails.” Again, I had to wonder what she imagined when she thought about my lifestyle. “She’s been very good to me,” I said. “Is she, like, your partner?” “Uh…” I was almost about to say ‘no,’ but the answer didn’t feel that simple. “Not in the traditional sense, I guess.” She laughed at that. “Whatever is going on here, I imagine it’s complicated.” “That’s an understatement.” “And Lyndie is in on it?” “In a way.” She nodded, seeming to mull it over for a moment or two. “But you’re happy?” “Yes.” “And you’re not harming anyone else?” “No.” She shrugged. “I mean–I guess I’m happy for you, then.” “It’s not going to be like this forever,” I said, well aware that ‘this’ had yet to be defined out loud. She nodded, her smile implying a “Sure, if you say so,” sort of response. “I suppose I do have one question,” my mother said. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” My heart pounded in my chest as I held my breath. I was dreading what this could be. “So, you’re living with Gabrielle, and it seems like you know each other well and she takes good care of you–I suppose the details of that are none of my business. But…I’m curious. Do you see her as a mother-figure, Clark? Is she the version of a mother that you wished I was?” Oof. What a question. I could, and probably would, spend years breaking down and dissecting that query. Was it even possible to offer a concise answer for my mother now? Maybe. “It’s different,” I said, realizing that the room had likely been silent for a good minute or three. “I wouldn’t want her to be you. And I wouldn’t want you to be her.” That felt like an alright answer–one that scratched the surface. But it also occurred to me that there may have just been one thing that she wanted–perhaps needed–to hear: “She doesn’t replace you.” My mother nodded. It was unclear if she believed me, or if she was happy about this answer–but I at least felt that she understood it. That was the best that I could do. “Whatever it is you have here, Clark, it seems to make you happy. Gabrielle and Lyndie speak very highly of you, and they clearly love you. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not jealous, but I am happy for you.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I said, “Thank you, Mom,” but I wasn’t entirely sure what I was thanking her for. “I could impart some motherly wisdom for you, if you’d care to hear it,” my mother said. I sighed, expecting some speech about how I needed to grow up or get my life in order. Perhaps some words about responsibility or maturity. “Sure.” “I may be a little late with this advice, but it’s still a good thing to know.” “Uh huh.” “See, when you were young, you’d get diaper rashes all the time. I tried a lot of different topical treatments and ointments. But do you know what worked best? Coconut oil. Every time–cleared it right up.” I felt my cheeks glowing–my face might have been on fire. “Jesus, Mom.” “I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “Maybe you’d find that information useful.”

Hey everyone! Moving right along with this story, I just want to say that after this chapter, there are only two more to go until the end, so buckle up! I was actually able to finish writing this story yesterday, but I just ran out of time to edit it until today, and with that basically being the case for the next two chapters, they should be done by Tuesday or Wednesday this week at the latest. Next, I just want to put out a little warning here that some scenes in this next chapter could be triggering for some of you. I don’t condone the behavior at all, but sometimes when writing a villain, one needs to get a little dirty with their characters. I’m sure everyone knows who I am talking about in this case, but I’ll just leave my warning there. Lastly, for those of you reading this one, I’m still trying to determine my next story, so be sure to let me know what you want of the three stories I placed on here to decide from. For those of you who may have missed these options or whatnot, just refer back to chapter 4. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 13: Abandonment By the Rainbow Pete returned to us, triumphant, fixed, and eternally grateful for the efforts that my friends and I had expelled in order to save his life. Apparently, the repairman swore he didn’t have the part, but as Pete had guessed, he didn’t second guess its presence for long, and just installed it anyways. Now, Pete seemed years younger. His feathers were still faded, but his vigor seemed to come alive in a way that I had never seen before. To put it mildly, even Vivian noticed and was ecstatic about her fixed parrot. Unfortunately, this proved to be a high point in the next weeks around the daycare. Nancy was only getting worse. Her threats were becoming more vicious, and I could see Emma slipping and wanting to regress further each time she came in. She was still part of the Meadows room, but I knew another month like this, and we would both be back in the Burrows room for more than just naptime as I knew would probably start up again in the next week or so. So, I vigilantly waited for something to happen, and finally one morning, it did. I had taken up performing reconnaissance checks from the safety of my previous perch in the above air ducts on Nancy and Emma in the morning as they arrived. It wasn’t comfortable and it did leave me vulnerable to the possibility of being considered ‘lost’ if Emma ever couldn’t find me in time, but it also gave me a valuable insight into what I was dealing with for that day. Often, Nancy would just rant about some new ‘problem’ with Emma as my Little was either escorted into the Meadows room or was told for her hands to cover her ears. The staff kept largely ignoring her peacefully, but with each encounter and each time Emma exhibited some ounce of renewed maturity, Nancy got worse. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could ‘just hold fast’ as Pete had instructed, but it turns out, this morning, I didn’t have to wait any longer. Nancy came in and was practically dragging Emma along with her. She seemed disheveled, unhinged, and at her wits end, but more worrying, Emma almost appeared traumatized for a moment. As soon as Mrs. Gillies greeted the two, a common practice now since most of the daycare staff refused to work with her any longer, Nancy laid into her. “You! You did this to her! Of all the things you could have given her back, you chose this?” Her words spewed forth like hot magma, but Mrs. Gillies just stood her ground. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Nancy,” she said calmly and resolutely. “Maybe you could elaborate a little further and help me out today? I’m sure we can find some solution to whatever you think is happening with Emma today.” I could practically hear Nancy’s teeth grinding on themselves as she angrily glared back at Mrs. Gillies, but she finally relented. “We were reading last night. I was showing her the pretty pictures… as usual, and then…” For a moment, Nancy almost seemed to get emotional over what happened. I was insatiably curious, and I leaned over the vent on the ceiling get a better listen. “Tell me what happened, Nancy,” Mrs. Gillies said in a tone I recognized after a moment of silence between the two. Nancy couldn’t really have known but I was finding it a smidge hilarious that Mrs. Gillies was now using her voice reserved for Littles on Nancy. Bigs were always so proud of their separation and clear maturity above the Littles they subjugated, but seeing moments like these, it was hard not to notice that the gap between them might have been narrower than any of them were willing to admit out loud. “She read… to herself!” she spat. ‘Oof! No wonder she’s so upset…’ Caregivers often prided themselves and reveled in reading time with their Littles. Of course, the reasons varied, but for many it could bring them closer together. Even if the caregiver wasn’t much of a reader, they would still delight in the fact that their Little may no longer be able to read, or they could have chosen a story that was loaded with Big propaganda. Either way, the Big won in some small fashion. To take that away now… I just stayed behind my vent and waited for the fireworks to begin momentarily. “Oh…” was about all Mrs. gillies could muster after that short, but hugely impactful bit of insight. She didn’t say it, but I could see she knew the gravity of that one event. “Oh? Oh? That’s all you have to say?” Nancy’s eyes bulged out with each of her rhetorical questions to Mrs. Gillies and I could practically see the steam coming out of her head by the third. “I don’t want just an ‘oh!’ I want my baby girl back! I want her back right now! I don’t care what it takes! Burn her! Beat her! Electrocute her! I just want my baby back today!” The straw had finally broken and everyone else who had started to gather around the scene Nancy was making, knew of her dastardly nature as well now. Emma’s future remained uncertain, but I also knew that her future with Nancy was now also uncertain. If we were a little more south, I could expect a light reprimand, but things were different here. Bigs just couldn’t go around and cry out for their Little to be beaten, or electrocuted for that matter, just to get their ‘baby’ back. Mrs. Gillies was a stern woman at times, but I knew she viewed the Littles under her care as precious gems that needed to be protected when required. Nancy was crossing that line today, and I could see a glare form in Mrs. Gillies eyes as she stared back at the vile Big in front of her. “Nancy… we do not allow that type of thing here. Unless you go breaking the law, in which Emma will be moved to what I can only imagine would be a better home than where she is now, you will not find another place to do what you want as well. Go home and cool off. For your own sake, if not for Emma’s.” Nancy seemed flabbergasted for a second. I suspected she had read too many pro-Big pamphlets recently in which the same scenario went quite differently. Having Mrs. Gillies scold her there in front of others, I could see the doubt creep into her eyes over her actions and the realization that she was now definitely in the wrong. One didn’t need to be a mind reader though to see that Nancy was now very upset, bordering on distraught. One could feel bad for her, if not for the threats she essentially had just demanded be heaped upon her own Little. Mrs. Gillies, being the morally bigger woman, just let her cool off in peace. No lecture or threat of police involvement… just peace. Unfortunately, life rarely seems to stay peaceful, and the front door opened. In walked a kindly woman and Travis, the former Little who had thrown me in the mud. Travis had been doing pretty well, and thanks to his more stable home life, he had received a stuffy of his own. Additionally, while his temper still seemed to flare up, he had grown empathetic towards the sadness of others at least. Always willing to give out a hug or a part of his snack lately, he had become very popular with many of the Littles and staff alike here. Now, today, he seemed positively electrified being that it was his birthday. His caregiver carried a few trays packed as much as they could be from the cupcakes that he was going to share with everyone. So, with his new empathetic side, coming in after all the tension before, and seeing the now almost pitiful Nancy, he of course wanted to help her. Mrs. Gillies and the rest almost seemed to be turning blue as they held their breath as Travis quickly retrieved a cupcake from the tray his caregiver was holding and then held it up to Nancy. “Wanna cupcake?” he asked innocently. Now, I will fully admit to the fact that sometimes, people just want to be left alone. It can be pretty awkward in telling that to someone, but most can do it pretty gently. Nancy, having just been called out by Mrs. Gillies, feeling rejected by Emma, and already thinking that Littles are just mere playthings for Bigs, she almost growled at Travis. “No, I do not.” And she could have left it right there, and then everyone would have moved on with their own individual days… but she didn’t. In one fell swoop, Nancy’s larger hand knocked the blue-frosted cupcake from Travis’ hand. It fell to the floor with a resounding plop. The whole room stared at that single ruined cupcake now splattered on the floor. Time seemed to stand still practically, and from my view above, I just waited for everything to play out. It seemed to me that Nancy was just digging her own grave now, but like watching a car crash in slow motion, I just couldn’t take my eyes off the scene before me. Travis at first looked bewildered that someone would ever just knock such a beautiful, blue-frosted cupcake onto the ground like that… the thing even was adorned with rainbow sprinkles. To him, it almost seemed like a person would fly soaring into the air before they would ever commit such a heinous crime, but there it was on the floor before the two of them, ruined and unmoving. It was already bad, and I could see that his caregiver was already arming and ready to go to war for her own Little, but Nancy was already primed and ready from her previous action only seconds earlier. “Who the heck do you think you are? You think a cupcake is just going to make everything better for me? Huh, is that it? How stupid can you be?” His caregiver now seemed like she could blow up the entire planet just to avenge her Little and the single fallen cupcake, but Travis beat her to it. In his own tiny, regressed way, I suppose his reaction made sense, but as he picked up the cupcake from the ground and looked at it one more time, I seriously doubted he would know the consequences of his next move. Armed like a pitcher on the mound of a big game, Travis squinted his eyes, aimed, and lobbed the cupcake right at Nancy. Now, Nancy was wearing a particularly pressed and expensive-looking pink and yellow dress. Its sunny appearance contrasted heavily with its wearer’s own facial expressions, but it provided a near-neon-sign-like target for Travis to aim at. So, when the cupcake hurdled toward her, of course it hit its mark. The blue frosting smeared against the pink and yellow fabric and some parts now even looked green or purple from the mixing of it all, but after, the cupcake just landed with another plop on the floor, this time nearly pulverized. Nancy took no time in looking like a fizzy bottle ready to explode, but instead of her cork popping off the top, she marched over the few feet to Travis, and without a single ounce of hesitation, smacked him across the face. ‘Oh, shit…’ I looked around the room, and for a moment, I could see that everyone else was thinking the exact same thing. A Big punishing a Little was just another Tuesday in this society, but a Big smacking one across the face? It was practically tantamount to child abuse in this dimension. In that one slap, Nancy had permanently doomed herself. To be honest, the next moments were a bit of a blur from up above. Too many people rushed in to quell the fighting that soon broke out. From the little I could see; Travis and his caregiver were defending themselves while also going full force into Nancy. Nancy herself was fighting off about four others and Littles were crying all around… including the petrified Emma who I just realized had stubbornly refused to leave the scene after not getting a goodbye hug from Nancy. Nancy was cruel, but there was a bond, fake or not, between the two. It made me worried about what was going to come next for my Little. Like any event though, the main event was quickly over, and Nancy was subdued. Seeing Nancy being escorted outside by three volunteers and Miss Mindy leading the pack, I also saw that Emma was now running back to the hallway and presumably the Meadows room to find her one comfort: me. Fortunately, Emma’s recent regressions made her a little scatterbrained and without a Big helping her along and all the Littles running about in a panic, I saw that she kept searching the same four spots multiple times. With all the chaos, I was easily able to pick up her pattern and plant myself undetected in one of those spots, so the next time she came over, she immediately saw me… none the wiser. “Oh, Dash!” she wailed. The next few minutes devolved into mass panic and confusion as police showed up front and the Littles were simply too scared or wound up to properly be controlled by the ten or so workers or volunteers here today. Frightened and scared herself, Emma just curled in tight to me in the forest section of the Meadows room underneath one of the larger fake pines. She wrapped herself up in a blanket and some pillows, and then just started to cry and hug me. It truly twisted up my guts like she had hardly done before and it was terrible, but I also felt a sense of relief. Not that Emma crying her poor little heart out was a relief, but more so why she was crying. Nancy had completely screwed up in public and had threatened Emma and then had assaulted another Little at the bare minimum. Additionally, I had no doubt that when her house was searched, more evidence would be found. So, I wasn’t happy over Emma’s distress, but I was happy in the knowledge that Nancy had forced herself into an unwinnable scenario today and would most likely never be a threat to Emma again. Later, when order was finally restored, I was with Emma when Bigs sporting jackets reading ‘LPS’ came in and began questioning the staff and some of the other Littles first. Finally, they came over to Emma and we both went away and sat in Mrs. Gillies’ office while Miss Tully was there as well. “Do you understand us or why you’re here?” the tall officer asked Emma once she had settled into a chair before the two officers. Emma only nodded. “Good. We just want to know a few details about Nancy… uh, your mommy?” he asked unknowingly. Emma only quickly shook her head with a hilarious but clearly disgusted face. The room chuckled with a nervous laughter, but I could see the two agents writing something down. The shorter one then spoke up. “So, not your mommy, but your caregiver… did she ever hurt you?” The agents were direct and to the point, but I suspected they were more used to dealing with Bigs who had broken their codes, rather than the Littles who were affected by them. Emma could sense the tension and gripped me even tighter before while simultaneously shaking her head quickly. The two officers sighed in seeming resignation, but Miss Tully and Mrs. Gillies were there, and I suspect it was more than for them to just bear witness that nothing sinister happened in the interview. After a moment of Emma just talking, Mrs. Gillies whispered something into Miss Tully’s ear, and she soon left. “Gentlemen… I just sent Miss Tully to get something that might help your investigation.” She then looked over at Emma and crouched down to meet her eye level better. “Emma, sweetie… these men just want to keep you safe. Nancy is going away for a little bit…” I could see she was lying, but for Emma, her words were just to reassure her that she wasn’t completely alone now … even if she was and they all knew it. “She can’t harm you anymore though. I understand you might not want to talk, and you just keep hugging Patch, sweetie, but can you at least nod or shake your head for me?” The two agents quickly seemed more interested in this new approach and leaned in to see how Emma would respond. I could see though that Mrs. Gillies’ eyes were full of both hope and sadness. In a place like this, I suspected that while rare, these scenarios had happened before. Knowing her, she was probably hoping beyond anything else in this world that Emma would be okay after whatever happened next to her. Finally, though, after seemingly a great deal of thought into the matter, Emma nodded her head. Mrs. Gillies smiled just as Miss Tully reentered the room. “I got these as you requested, Patty.” Mrs. Gillies nodded. “Thank you. Just set them here. I’m hoping they’ll help us out today.” She then gathered the first piece of paper, and from the colorful markings on the others, I recognized them as the drawings that Emma had crafted after most of her naptimes since she began again in the Meadows room. Most had gone home to Nancy, but a few had been given to the staff here. Looking at the papers though, these actually seemed to be the crumpled ones that were supposed to have been thrown away. Mrs. Gillies then held up the first paper to Emma. “You drew this last week, Emma. You recognize it?” Emma slowly nodded her head. “Good. Now, is this you?” Mrs. Gillies pointed to the smaller of the two figures on the sheet. It was a crude drawing, but it didn’t take an art critic or historian to know that the small figure was being spanked by the larger one and was crying. Emma took some time, and I could feel my fur getting wet on the top of my head. My poor Little was crying. I so badly wanted to turn on my messaging right then and protect her from all the pain in the world she was experiencing, but I knew that she needed to stick this one out. If she did, Nancy was sure to be gone for good based on what I had seen out in the lobby that would be supplemented by Emma’s personal testimony now. So, to my relief, it took some time, but Emma eventually tearfully nodded. This continued for a while longer and both Emma’s tears and my growing anger persisted. Drawing after drawing, I could see a new life unfold that I hadn’t seen before this close. Of course, I was always with Emma when she created them, but being hugged tight or held just out of view of her drawings, I was seeing them for the first time myself and I was just as shocked as everyone else. “Geez…” the shorter agent said mournfully. “Are you seeing these?” he asked his taller partner. For his part, the taller partner just nodded, and I was getting the feeling that images of spankings, yelling’s, various punishments, injections of drugs, and terrible rules might have just been routine to him by now. I didn’t envy his job, but at the same time, we weren’t even halfway through her drawings, when then shorter agent told us to “stop.” He sighed and saw the dozen or so still left in Miss Tully’s hands. “We’ll look at the rest back at headquarters, but these should definitely be enough.” He then stood up with his partner, gathered the other papers together into his case, and smiled. “This is exactly what we needed to file today. You were very helpful, Emma. We may need to come by and ask some more questions later, so would you be willing to do that for us?” Emma nodded, but I could tell she was still nervous about Nancy as she also hugged me tighter at the same time. It had been a long day for us, but I knew things were only likely to get worse before they got better. As the agents left and lunch and naptime passed, I began to see some rumblings just outside the open door to the hallway. A few of the volunteers had been tasked to do something by Mrs. Gillies after Emma’s interview and now seemed to be busily hauling things to one end of the building. I wondered what they were doing, but soon, it was the end of the day, and Emma slowly became the last still left in the Meadows room. After, following a volunteer out to Mrs. Gillies’ office by the hand, Emma hadn’t let go of me the entire day since she had found me after the whole incident with Nancy. It meant that I was privy to basically her whole life in a way that I wasn’t always, and while I was worried about getting in the way of a few of her diaper changes, I was also proud and satisfied that Emma viewed me as her lifeline in all this mess. It was the mark of any true stuffy around here and I knew I was crossing the finish line with her now. At this point, all I had to do was be brought home by her. There was just one big problem with that though and as we entered the office, I could soon see it as plain as day. Mrs. Gillies was chatting with Miss Tully and Miss Dee-Dee intently but then stopped as we entered the room. We then had to doge some bags on the way in… ‘Hold on… I’ve been in here before… what’s with the bags? They weren’t here the last time…’ Mrs. Gillies sighed as she looked down at us as the volunteer then left. “Emma… we brought you in here this afternoon because we want you to choose some items that we brought here for you…” My heart skipped a beat and as I stealthily looked down at the bags, I read the luggage tab labeled ‘Emma’ on them. After what had happened today, it could only mean one thing. “Buh why awe my bags hewe? Am I stayin’ hewe for ni-ni?” she asked in her still-regressed speech from her time with Nancy. Mrs. Gillies seemed to hesitate, but Miss Tully seemed to be the stronger of the three workers before us, and immediately came over and crouched down to look Emma in the eyes. “Emma… Nancy… she’s… there’s no easy way to say this, but she’s gone. She’s not at your house anymore and you can’t stay there by yourself…” “Gone?” Emma asked, still not catching on to what was happening now. Miss Tully nodded. “Yes, Emma. Nancy is gone and you probably won’t ever see her again. You’re going to be staying here tonight with Miss Dee-Dee. Kind of like a sleepover… won’t that be fun?” I could see Miss Tully was trying, but to Emma, I could tell that she was just hearing that Nancy was now gone. “Dih I do somefin wong?” she asked, a little crack in her voice coming through loud and clear. ‘Hold on, Emma. Just hold on a little longer and better times will be here soon… I promise.’ But I knew she couldn’t hear my thoughts, so I just prayed Miss Tully would assuage her in my stead. Miss Tully almost violently shook her head. “Absolutely not, Emma. You are a wonderful, beautiful, good girl. Nancy… she…” I could tell that a daycare worker talking to a Little about their former caregiver being a psychotic Big who was likely going to jail now was a little difficult. Miss Tully sighed. “She did something bad herself, and like any naughty person, she’s going to get punished. So, you’re going to be staying here for a little bit.” I could see the rusted and weary gears working overtime and about as hard as they could behind Emma’s eyes. Her mind had regressed a little bit again in recent weeks, so mentally, things were very black and white for her. If Nancy was like any other Big who wanted control, she had probably instilled a sense of guilt in Emma if they were ever apart. It was usually to ensure the Little would never run away, but now to Emma, being apart was the only thing she could process. So, no Nancy here, meant that Emma should feel bad, and further, she would likely only feel this bad if she had been naughty. Emma’s eyes welled up. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry! Please don’t punish Nancy because of me,” she then mournfully wailed. ‘Drats! I hate being right about these things…’ Miss Tully shook her head but now seemed at a loss for words herself. Mrs. Gillies looked like she had seen this scene play out too many times, so being the person she was, Miss Dee-Dee stepped up instead. “No, Emma. You were a very good girl. In fact, you are so good that we need to find you a new caregiver. We already put out some feelers, and they are so impressed with you that they want to meet you as soon as possible.” “Me?” Emma asked, likely picking more up on the flattery side of what Miss Dee-Dee had said instead of her now being put up for adoption. Hearing that first part more myself, I knew that we still had some unfortunate rough days ahead of us. For her part though, Miss Dee-Dee chuckled. “Yes, you. You are a wonderful Little Emma. I’m going to tell you this, even if others don’t think I should… Nancy wasn’t a good person, Emma. She hurt you, honey. I know she probably said it was love or discipline, but she was wrong. She did things that were good before, but with you, not so much.” Emma stared back as she had just been told that the sky was actually green all along and I think Miss Dee-Dee saw that. “Do you understand, sweetie?” Emma tilted her head, but I wasn’t sure if anything that was being said was truly getting through to her. Even when she said “yeah…” half-heartedly, I partially doubted its validity. “Good,” Miss Dee-Dee still said with enthusiasm. “As soon as you feel up to it, we can find you a new and even better caregiver! Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Unfortunately, while Miss Dee-Dee still spoke with the same sugary sweet tone that she used for Littles, she hadn’t used any flattery this time to note that Emma would be finding a new caregiver. That, on top of the revelation of Nancy’s evil nature, soon caused Emma’s smile to disappear. “Oops,” Miss Tully noted, now jumping back into the fray and seemingly having had missed what had just transpired. “What happened to our happy girl, huh?” Emma didn’t speak for a moment, and when she did, it wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “New cawegivuh… ado… add… adopp…” Emma tried to make out a single word and I knew what it was, but I couldn’t help her out any more than I could hug her right then and let her know that everything was going to be okay. So, still determined to ask her pressing and dreaded question, Emma tried it a different way. “I gettin’ a new cawegivuh?” All three workers grimaced as they now understood that Emma in fact knew she was going up for adoption. They may have been Bigs, but they also worked at a daycare where some Littles loved to gossip as if it was their own private religion here now. Most of the time it was about childish things, like the consistency of the new milosauce or a new diaper they were trying out, but they knew the Littles knew about adoption. To them, unfortunately, it was always talked about as if it was a near death sentence. Having seen Littles be adopted like Fiona, it was hard to argue with their logic. Fortunately, Mrs. Gillies finally seemed to find it within herself to speak back up. “Yes, Emma. You are going to be adopted. You’ll find someone, or even a couple, who want you, just the way you are. Then, they’ll take you home with them.” All the words were right that the three workers had been using, and each used their same sing-song tones to convey their messages in a way that helped someone like Emma with her somewhat regressed mind. Still, she had gone through a lot today. She had witnessed her tormentor assault one of her friends over a cupcake, endured the chaos that followed, been questioned and was forced to relive her past trauma via crayon drawings, and was now being told that she was both homeless and without a caregiver to watch over her. Personally, I just don’t think her mind, or her emotional state, could take the addition of being told that another stranger would be taking her home with them. “I… they… no, I…” she started to sputter out in half-coherent, half-babbled random strings of words. There was probably meaning behind what she was saying, but it would take someone far greater than anyone in this room to figure it out. Her breathing started to get heavier, and I could tell she was also beginning to panic. “No cawegivuh… no home… no wove… no one… I… I… I…” Then, as if someone had just pinched her side or scraped her knee, Emma burst into tears. At first, the three workers seemed satisfied with Emma trying to self-soothe herself. It was a brutal but effective technique that helped most Littles regain their independence a bit after being regressed, but everything Emma tried, like thumb sucking, holding me tighter, crying louder, cradling herself… all ended in complete failure and more heaving tears. After a little more of that, above Emma’s cries of loss and pain, I could see and hear Miss Dee-Dee look over to Mrs. Gillies and start talking. “Plan B, Patty? Or should we let her tire herself out?” Mrs. Gillies looked at the wailing near-broken Little on the floor before her and sighed. “Go ahead. I don’t necessarily like plan B, but she needs her rest, and I don’t want her going past the point of no return.” Miss Dee-Dee nodded and retrieved something and then handed a few brightly colored small objects to both Miss Tully and Mrs. Gillies. Each then placed their fingers with the objects into their ears and then each gave a thumbs up. Around here, earplugs could only mean one thing. ‘Oh no… please not that… not now…’ But to my sadness, Miss Dee-Dee then hit a button and a large pulse began, instantly making Mrs. Gillies’ office sound like we were inside a heart as it beat. It was steady and I swore I could hear whispers in between the thumps and thuds. At first, I thought that maybe their plan wasn’t working, but soon, Emma’s cries began to weaken. She curled around me on the soft, carpeted floor and quickly shot her thumb back into her mouth. In less than a minute, she went from practically ripping everyone’s heart out with her wails of sadness and self-loathing to bursting them instead with her level of cuteness right then. Even when she wetly farted in her slumber, I could almost picture a cartoon image of someone blushing or flowers coming from her rear now. It was so odd, but then I realized one horrible but inescapable truth: they had used something like my regression pulses on her. Miss Dee-Dee then hit the button once more and the pulses stopped. Each worker removed their earplugs and sighed as they viewed the now-sleeping Emma. “Shame it came to that…” Miss Tully said sadly. The others nodded. “Yes, but she’s had a long day. I don’t think any Little could have been expected not to have a breakdown at some point and then suck their thumb… I know I would have if I were her…” Mrs. Gillies noted. Miss Dee-Dee then gave her a strange look, but then shook her head and looked back down at the now-sleeping form of Emma. “Sure… but at least she’s at peace now. I’ll watch over her tonight and will proceed with the planned feedings of Taber milk as discussed. I can lessen the formula over tonight or the next few days, depending on how she reacts, to get her mind more acclimated to everything going on.” “Isn’t that bad in the long-term?” Miss Tully questioned hesitantly after a moment. “Shouldn’t she embrace all the feelings now and just deal with them?” Miss Dee-Dee rocked her hand back and forth. “Eh. Hard to say with Littles like Emma. Her mind is a bit messy right now, but if I wean her off the Tabers slowly, her mind can get used to the idea that she is still loved, while also accepting that Nancy is no longer her caregiver. Still processing everything inside, but her mind won’t break from the stress of it all either.” Miss Tully still seemed hesitant but just nodded at Miss Dee-Dee’s rationalization of her plan. Miss Dee-Dee then sniffed the air and spotted the bulging garment now attached to Emma, her denim skirtalls today likely leaving very little to the imagination. “Speaking of messy… I need to get this one changed pronto. You two go home. I’ve got Emma and the others staying here for the night. I’ll be sure to call if there’s any further problems.” The others nodded and after a brief rundown and check of the place, left the daycare. Satisfied, Miss Dee-Dee slowly picked Emma up and hauled her off to the Burrows room. “I’m so sorry, Emma, that this happened to you. You don’t deserve any of this, and I wish I could take you home with me, but I’m already at my allotment with Littles at home. Don’t worry though… I’m sure we’ll find the perfect Big for you soon.” Miss Dee-Dee proceeded to then change her diaper, feed her a bottle of creamy liquid, and then lay her back into her old crib. In truth, I thought this moment would have been almost mortifying to come back to. After all, this is where Emma and I had first met, so in a way, I felt like we were both truly regressing and almost starting all over. That being said, once I thought about it for even a second, I could only marvel at how things had changed. Instead of the crib in the Burrows room being a mark of failure now, to me at least, it felt more like a repeated holiday where one can contrast the time to what it was before. In this case, Emma seemed very much her traumatized self and was content to just lay still and coo up at Miss Dee-Dee while she changed her diaper. While it was a bit nerve-wracking that Emma wouldn’t want to leave that state given all that was going on, I knew deep down that it was likely only a temporary state. While as before, she had been regressed and was being forced to try and come back to that point later, Nancy was no more. I knew it had disturbed and upset Emma on a scale that would only break my heart if I actually thought about it, but now, I just hoped that we would be able to find a new home with a caregiver that truly cared about her. Even personally, I was back to the same crib I had started off with and Emma was likely going to be sitting in a messy diaper about as soon as she finished her bottle. All status quo, but only for who I used to be. The Dash that had come here initially with Charley was very different than who I am now. Today, I felt no joy in seeing Emma crumple up like a lifeless doll when the pulses hit her. Instead, I took satisfaction in the notion that all I wanted to do now was to help her and get her back to her previously happy self. I sighed in personal contentment, and as soon as Emma was laid down and I began to drift with my thoughts, I then started to panic over just what came next in all this. I had been embroiled in the fight to keep Emma as she was and safe from Nancy for so long that now the Big was gone, the next steps only seemed murky. I of course knew the next step for Emma would be to find a new caregiver to adopt her, but I had no clue what that would mean for me. So, as soon as I knew that Emma was fast asleep and that Miss Dee-Dee stopped her hawk-like watch of her, I made my way back over to the Meadows room temporarily. As soon as I got my answer, I would be back to snuggle in with Emma. There, as soon as I stepped into the Meadows room, nearly every toy it seemed like rushed up to greet me. “Oh my gosh! How’s Emma?” “Is she okay?” “Did they wipe her mind?” “Are you no longer her stuffy?” “Is it true that you saw Nancy stab a Little?” The questions were as numerous as they were ridiculous after as the time progressed, but right then, Poodee, Carmen, and Tops entered the fray and barricaded the way to get to me. “Okay, okay!” Carmen shouted. “Back it up, you lot!” “Yeah, move it hedgehog!” Tops shoved. “This isn’t some mosh pit you know!” “Geesh!” Poodee exclaimed. “Can’t you all tell that Dash is here to get some advice and not play twenty questions with you all? Just get back and I’m sure we’ll find out everything we need to know… later. Now, beat it!” I smiled back at my friends and now free and clear, made my way up to the top of one of the cubbies where most of the toy council staying in this room were always bunked for the night. Originally, only Sarge came up here, but after Cassie got him to ease up a bit, he let Victor and Pete come up here as well when their Littles entered the room. They all quickly turned to me when I finally managed to traverse the last cubby hole. “Holy…! Hey, it’s Dash!” Victor shouted out to the others. “We can see that, Victor,” Sarge said, rolling his eyes a little bit at the announcement as I approached. “You doing okay, Dash?” Cassie asked in her usual sweet way. I could hardly believe the difference my time here had upon all these toys. I still felt that it was some sort of ruse and that I was about to be tossed off the ledge one of the nights I had come up here, but a month later, and they just seemed even more happy to see me. Getting closer to them, I sighed. “She’s fine. I’m fine. Miss Dee-Dee popped on some pulses and Emma went out like a light. She didn’t take too well to the news she was up for adoption, but she’s sleeping soundly now. Miss Dee-Dee will wean her off the Tabers milk over the next few days and she’ll meet with the adoption candidates right after.” “That’s good at least…” Victor noted, now settling back onto his banana. “It will help her in the long run, Dash,” Cassie said with a bit of sadness in her voice. “You’ll see. She’ll be happier this way once she finds her true caregiver.” “Cassie’s right… as usual,” Sarge said under his breath a bit. “But you didn’t come up to hear us give you support for Emma, did you?” Pete asked, emerging from his own resting spot, now looking better than ever with my old and his new actuator. I shook my head. “I’m guessing you want to know your role in adoption, right?” I nodded my head, always amazed at his near prescient state with these types of things. “Right. Just be there for her,” Victor said, sighing. “Be there as her friend and her stuffy.” “Support her, Dash,” Cassie added. “Just love her to bits.” To my surprise though, Sarge shook his head. “That’s all fine, but that’s not your true role here, Dash.” “It’s not?” I questioned, his response nearly flying in the face of everything I had come to learn here so far. Sarge shook his head again. “No. Take my advice and use your messaging on her.” I almost objected to him right then, but he held up his hand to stop me. “Just listen for one second. Object after if you want but hear me out first.” Sensing the seriousness in his tone, I nodded. Sarge then took a breath. “See, her mind is darn near like spaghetti at this point. When you meet with her prospects whenever, Mrs. Gillies and the others will narrow them down a bit, but you should only have to see the top three based on a few bits of criteria, so, keep all that in mind. It’s a bit of an outdated way to do things I feel, but you just focus on the three you’ll meet.” “Then what?” I asked, leaning in closer. I could already tell that everyone else was just as shocked as I was that Sarge was giving me advice, and even more, seemingly good advice. “Well, what everyone else said is great for the aftercare once you two have met with all of them, but during your meetings, you’re going to act as the little voice inside her head,” he explained. “Because of her mind, for example, she might choose a clown to be her next caregiver, but behind closed doors, he could be a serial killer. Doubtful around here and in this society, but that’s what you’re looking for. Look beyond their resumes or what they’re saying. Look beyond that extra fluff and see who they really are inside. Sadist or saint. Crusher or carer.” “He’s exactly right, Dash,” Pete said, stepping closer to the rest of us. “Be there for her and make sure she can hold you close but guide her. Guide her like the rudder of a ship away from the jagged rocks ahead. And with any luck, you should steer her right towards smooth waters.” I nodded and just sat back with a huff. I had gotten better at using my messaging on her, and between my better skills and her suggestibility, I almost felt like a surgeon with my level of precision in messaging over her now. It made me feel a little guilty still using it occasionally, but I always felt justified when Nancy was threatening to send her back to practically a newborn state. Now, based on the advice from my friends, I was going to be using my messaging to find her a new caregiver, and if I was reading everything correctly, a new home for the two of us in the future. It was a lot and I just hoped more than ever, just as Miss Dee-Dee had predicted, that she would be ready in a few days to meet the various adoption prospects. From what I had seen today, she might truly never be, but I just hoped beyond measure that I could help her out. To me, right then, all the work I had done with her since we had met and the prevention of Nancy’s vile plans, all now seemed to be converging on this one decision she would have to make soon. Regardless of whom she chose, though, I knew our lives would never be the same after.

Well, here I am. It's been 5 years since I put myself back in diapers. I never thought this crazy experiment would continue for so long. I'm wearing a slightly damp Rearz Little Splash and I'm about to embark on assembling a school project for my daughter, so I don't have much time to write right now, although I may come back to this later, depending on where the day takes me. The main theme of this circus on wheels seems to be the exorcising (with is different from exercising... there has also been some of that) the shame and anxiety around wearing diapers, and around wanting to wear diapers, that was burned into me during my first childhood experience navigating the world from within disposable plastic underpants. It's been 5 years, and while this is still not "normal", it is at least possible, generally routine, and largely enjoyable. I'm amazed and humbled by the quiet acceptance I have been graced with, on the part of my friends and family who are at least somewhat in the know. I haven't gone out of my way to enlighten anyone, with the exception of my spouse, about the unusual nature of my foundation garments, but five years is a long time to do something all the time, everywhere, so the odds inevitably stack up for people you spend a lot of time with to possibly notice "something." Just as if I had been wearing a hair piece for the last five years, by now, a few people would probably know about it. So far, that hasn't changed anything that I can detect, in the quality of the relationships. Well, other than the occasional barbed comeback from my spouse, but she would be doing that anyway, just using other topics, were I not prone to wearing absurd underpants. I'm nowhere near having lost control of any functionality during the day - as I said elsewhere, this does not seem to be a slippery slope, at least for me, but more like one covered in grip tape, that you have to deliberately walk down. I do wet the bed sometimes - well, wet in bed, so that does seem to be a side effect of wearing diapers to bed every night for years, at least for me, although being that I was a bedwetter as a kid, I'm not sure how generalizable this experimental data is to the greater population. Caveat emptor. So how much longer will I be at this? Right now, I have no plans to change course. I also want to mention once again how much it has meant to me to be able to share this journey with all of you, and to interact with this community. I really think it has been a major boon to my mental health; for the first 3+ decades of my life, I thought I was the only member of my species, the one weird kid who didn't mind wearing diapers, doomed to walk the earth alone, at least as far as that aspect of my personality was concerned. Meeting and interacting with like-minded individuals, so many smart and interesting people, has bolstered my confidence more than my plastic underpants alone ever could. So thank you.

Hey everyone! First, I just want to give a huge thank you to all who have been reading, commenting, or liking this story. It’s not a lot of you, but it’s always nice to see a few of you enjoying or at least still continuing to read this story. Next, again, I just want to reiterate that I’m still debating on whether I should include the perspective of Emma in this story or not. Let me know your thoughts and I’ll be sure to post my decision by the next chapter. Lastly, for those of you reading this one, I’m still trying to determine my next story, so be sure to let me know what you want of the three stories I placed on here to decide from. For those of you who may have missed these options or whatnot, just refer back to chapter 4. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 11: Tough Roads and Crossroads Lie Ahead Breathing the air of freedom once outside, I couldn’t help but also feel a twinge of fear shiver along and down my back. We were all fragile toys, Tops, Carmen, Poodee, and I, so I knew that any problems that a normal toy would encounter out here, would only be magnified with each of us. As it was, Poodee, Carmen, and I were held together by numerous stitches and patches of fur that might not have even been ours, and Tops was thinning out in several places. His recent attachment to one of the Littles inside had only made it worse, but each of us also carried a determination with us to save our friend. “Alright Poodee, where to now?” I asked the nervous but still present poodle behind me. Poodee held the map up that Sarge had given us and Tops held the flashlight over it. “Hmmm… well, we’re here,” she said while her paw pointed on the map, “but we need to go here.” Her paw then traced far across the map. “Not too bad, but we can either go the longer way, or the shorter but dangerous way.” Of course, it just had to be one or the other. “I don’t know about you all, but if we want a chance at all in making it back here before tomorrow morning, I think we should stick with the shorter path.” Carmen and Poodee just nodded, but Tops seemed a bit hesitant still. “I don’t know, Dash… I’ll go with whatever the group wants to do, but let’s agree that if the path through the shortcut gets too bad, we get out of there immediately. We’re not exactly prime condition toys anymore and it would be dangerous enough for us even if we were.” I nodded. “Agreed. Good thinking, Tops. No sense in losing one of us in trying to save a friend tonight.” I sighed and then turned back around. “Alright, let’s get moving.” “Take a left, Dash…” Poodee noted before folding up the map again. “We go straight after for a bit, but definitely a left up ahead.” I gulped but willed my paws to move on. Left would round us moving behind the daycare… and old man Paul’s backyard. It would only be a brief stint on that side, but I knew without even looking by now that we would also subsequently be passing by Buster’s territory. My heavily stitched ear flicked in nervousness, but for the sake of Pete, I just kept walking. So, soon enough, we all took a left and I could see the back of the building and then the fence on this side that held back Buster. It was an old ugly looking thing, but I just hoped the rust at the bottom would still be enough to adequately keep Buster in check. I thought that if I just walked quietly enough by the fence, he would never suspect any of us, but Carmen accidently stepped on a dry and dead leaf. I snapped around and looked at her with deadly seriousness. “Sorry…” she whispered, having a fear of Buster as well. Any toy worth their while or who actually valued their existence lived in fear of becoming Buster’s next chew toy. Unfortunately, despite our otherwise quiet presence, the dry leaf proved to be enough of a disturbance. Buster quickly ran up to the gate and started barking at us. “Run!” I screamed. We all then ran as fast as we could, but Buster was at least three times our size. He had no problem keeping up with us, and soon, at the end of the fence, I saw our ultimate doom when dealing with a faster animal. There, small but vulnerable, was an opening in that part of the fence. To my horror, using his superior stride and speed, Buster quickly got to it and wiggled through before stopping right in front of us… all seconds before we could have even a single moment to react. “Don’t move…” I barely whispered to my equally petrified friends. Buster growled and loomed ever larger. I could see gobs of drool coat the sidewalk as he stalked right up to us. I felt I was a goner as he paused and sniffed around me. Buster had his meal of me earlier this year, but now, he was going to finish me off. ‘Sorry Pete… we tried…’ But instead, to my utter shock, Buster just licked me. My fur was covered in a thick slime that smelled terrible, but in moments, the hungry pooch was just sitting on his hind legs and wagging his tail and panting right in front of us. “What the…?” “Oh! Doy!” Poodee exclaimed from behind me. I saw each of my friends unfreeze, but Poodee smacked herself on the forehead. “Geez! I always forget… dogs can sense our inherent level of goodness. Everyone just thinks Buster tears into every toy that crosses his path, but he only eats the bad ones.” “Seriously?” Tops asked skeptically to which Poodee only smiled and nodded. Carmen chuckled and then gave me a slap in the back. “Look at that, Dash! You’ve got a genuine endorsement now from the literal animal community. You’re one of the good guys now!” Covered in drool on my left side and now reeking of dog breath, I didn’t feel so lucky, but eyeing my stitches and different patches of fur, I knew full-well that it could be a lot worse. “Lucky me…” “Here…” Poodee then crouched down and picked up a nearby stick. It wasn’t too big, but Buster quickly saw it. Now seeing that she had him in her sway, Poodee drifted the stick back and forth, and almost hilariously, the former mangy and terrifying mutt seemed to move its head with the simple object. “Alright, Buster. Here’s the stick! You want the stick?” Buster quickly nodded back. “Well then… go get it!” With that, Poodee launched the stick back into old man Paul’s yard. Buster immediately took off after it. “How’d you know that was going to work?” Tops asked, marveling and shocked over the latest turn of events, pretty much mimicking Carmen and I as well right then. Poodee just shrugged. “I actually really didn’t… but it did, so come on! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tonight if we still want to save Pete.” She waved us forward, and the rest of us, still a little stupefied by what had just transpired, followed her lead. After, I thought it was all going to be smooth sailing, but once Poodee looked at the map again, we knew we had to cross a major intersection coming up. For whatever reason, cars still whizzed by in record breaking speeds. I knew without any doubt that if any one of us hesitated for even a second, we were done for. “Well, screw this!” Carmen said, even go so far as to turn around. Tops quickly stopped her. “Easy there, Carmen… we’ll do this together and quickly. We time it right, we should have plenty of time, okay?” She nodded, and while she was the only one of us who had began to run away, I could see the fear still entombed in each of us. Toys weren’t meant to use crossroads, and I had really hoped that the intersection would be clear at this hour. What I didn’t know though, was it was still just at the tail end of rush hour. Still, I felt I needed to lead the group on, and fortunately for everyone else, I had been highly observant in my time with Charley. While it was mostly to form a better strategy in regressing him undetectably and efficiently, it did bleed to a few other aspects of life as well. One was that I knew that Emma was currently wearing the impossibly thick You-Ni-Corns brand of diapers, despite Charley never having worn them, but another was that I knew stoplights pretty well. “Okay… here’s the plan,” I iterated to my friends. “The light’s turn red, yellow, and green.” I then pointed to the nearest stoplight. “If it’s green, we’re goners, but yellow and red may give us a shot. As soon as the light turns red next when we’re all ready, we’ll dart across the street here. We’ll go faster than a walk, but not so much where we could trip.” I then pointed to the other side of the street. “If the lights over there turn yellow though, I want everyone to run. Even if you drop something, just run. Everyone clear?” Most nodded, but Poodee seemed a little hesitant. “What about being seen? Won’t it be weird for us to just be running across the road?” I nodded. “It would, but each of us is going stick a few bits of dried leaves around us. It’s pretty dark around here, and if anyone sees us, they’ll likely just pass us off as blowing leaves in this weather. It’s not fool proof, but right now, unless someone has another idea, this will just have to be the plan.” Everyone nodded, and I could still see the hesitancy in Poodee’s eyes, but she gathered up the fallen bits of twigs and leaves to stick in around her body. The leaves weren’t amazing, but once most of our sides were covered up, I saw that everyone was at least as ready as they were going be. “Alright, let’s move out in 3… 2… 1… go!” The whole group quickly took off across the road. I few cars cut the intersection pretty close to the crosswalk we were quickly walking across but considering no one was shrieking over the sight of us, I felt our disguises were halfway decent for this time of night. We were almost across though, when the unthinkable happened. Tops was half-walking, half-hopping across the street. He was still pretty confident and was even helping Carmen to cross as well, but at the same time, his crossing was much slower than the rest of us. He wasn’t the worst walker I had ever seen, but by the time I was across to the other side and looking back at him, he was still only about halfway. “Go faster, Tops!” I shouted back at him. Tops nodded, but even though the light was red, I saw a car speeding toward the intersection and the crosswalk Tops was still on. I wasn’t sure what was happening, and maybe I got it wrong, but it didn’t matter… Tops was right in the car’s path. “Tops! Run! Run right now!” “What? What is it?” Poodee asked worriedly. “Look!” I shouted while pointing to the low riding and speeding car headed right for our friend. She quickly saw the danger immediately. “Move it Tops! Come on!” Poodee cried out as well. The racing yellow and blue car just sped further. Tops tried, but his speed just wasn’t a match for the oncoming car. In seconds, I squeezed my eyes shut, as I heard Carmen shriek out. “Tops! No!” I felt sick. I was a mere toy out here in the big wide world, and I knew there was nothing I could do… but then I looked back. Thinking and dreading that I was going to find my friend’s shattered remains, to my everlasting pleasant surprise, I just saw Tops, hunched over and crouched into a little ball. I could see some black marks on his back where the underside of the car had grazed him and his camouflage was absolutely pulverized, but he was alive. “Holy…!” “You made it!” Poodee yelled out to him with clear relief and jubilation. “Yeah…” Tops said, looking over his body to see if he was even really injured anywhere. “I guess I did…” “Oh! You idiot!” Carmen cried out, clearly a little emotional over her close friends near passing. “Get out of the road, you damn fool. You only get one miracle tonight, and you just zapped yours right in the bud!” We all chuckled a little after and inspected Tops a little further once he finally made it to the other side. His back was definitely going to need a good wash, but he was otherwise mostly intact from his near miss of the car. I suspected he was likely only inches away from becoming a pancake, but in this case, ‘almost’ had just saved my friend’s life. So, our calms returning to normal, we ventured onward. On the direction of Poodee though, we soon entered the forest section of our path tonight. If we were able to cross the whole thing, we would be safe at last, as far as roads or dogs were concerned, on the other side, but seeing the mass of trees and thicket, I knew I couldn’t get my confidence too high up just yet. “Let’s go everybody… single file…” Everyone didn’t like the path, but knew we had few other choices, so we all entered one at a time. Soft pellets of mud began to pelt each of us as we moved through the bramble before us. It was hard going but we were making progress as I had hoped we would. I was worried would have been ensnared in the thicket after about five minutes in, but instead, it took about 30 minutes. “I’m caught…” Poodee called out from the rear. Her delicate condition after Harriet’s previous adventures of tearing her apart had been taking a toll on her ever since we entered the forest. While Tops had been snagged, and Carmen and I had to maneuver carefully around one particularly large bush in our way a little bit ago, each of us had made it through unscathed. Now, I looked at Poodee, and I could see from her brief struggling in the rear, she had only entwined herself more tightly into the thorned bush she was now attached to. “Oh… crud…” was about all I could say right then. Carmen gave me a little slap to my side. “Dash! That’s not helpful,” she admonished me while working her way back to the trapped Poodee. “We need to help her out of this…” She seemed sure in her words, but her looks showed her trepidations about the whole situation. Sighing, I dragged Tops along and we all examined the situation with our trapped friend. “Wish I had brought a knife…” Tops finally said when each of us had thoroughly examined the bush and yet Poodee was still stuck. “Well, wishing won’t do us any good…” Carmen pointed out. “If only we could just get through this branch…” Her arm gestured to one of the more firmly embedded branches in Poodee now. “Maybe we could just…? No… Or maybe…? No…” Finally, though, Poodee made the hard call for all of us. “Look… time’s wasting on just me. At this point, either leave me behind or pull me out. If I rip, I rip.” Her words were confident, but I could still see the fear behind her eyes. “Are you sure, Poodee? We can keep trying if you want. We won’t leave you, but ripping yourself apart… and in your condition? It could be worse than we could repair…” Poodee sighed and looked back over her trapped body, but ultimately nodded. “Just do it… quick. Or at least before I change my mind.” So, with her final consent, I nodded back at my other friends, and each of us grabbed her in a strategic more secure position. “Okay… we pull when I say and pull towards me… only towards me. Got it?” My friends nodded and Poodee did as well, but it seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else right then… and I really couldn’t blame her. “And… now!” With one hard yank, Poodee was free. Unfortunately, we all heard a loud rip and quickly rushed to see where it had come from. To our relief, the branches had only popped a few of her older stitches, but still, some fluff was threatening to tumble its way out of her. Seeing my friend like that, I knew our options were limited in going forward. Ahead just seemed like more of the same, and I knew Poodee couldn’t handle another situation like that again, let alone risk it for the rest of us as well. I then looked up, and to my relief, the moon was high in the sky. From one of Charley’s later before bed books that Monica had read to him, I knew it meant that it was now firmly nighttime. I turned back to my friends, and could see their fear and hesitancy moving forward, so with it all combined, I knew what we had to do. “I know things have been tough, but we have to keep moving for Pete. That being said, we told ourselves that if it ever got too hard with the shortcut, we would hit the longer way. So, who’s in favor of going the longer route now?” Everyone seemed hesitant, but Poodee was quick with the map and after looking at for a moment, looked back up. “It actually looks like we made it through the longer part of the longer path. Now, the distances are about the same between either option. If we take a right up at the creek, we could make it out of here and get to the repair shop in about the same time as going forward would.” Smirking at Poodee having likely saved our hides, literally, I turned back to the group. “So… how about now?” Quickly everyone raised their hands, and so, using Poodee and her map, we finally made it back out of the woods using the stream she had told us about. I never felt so relieved to see a sidewalk and a road in all my life. Awhile later, we were within sight of the repair shop, but I could hear voices quickly approaching. It could have been just another bunch of toys, but I didn’t want to take the chance, so I spun back around to the group. “I hear voices! Hide!” Like scurrying nocturnal animals shirking away from the light, we all dove into a cluster of nearby bushes. Despite the lateness of the year, they still were pretty well covered in their usual foliage, so they provided an excellent cover for us. Not long after, I saw that I was right to dive into the bushes. “Geez… you hear about those new humane Little laws on the senate floor in New Columbia?” the man asked the woman, both Bigs. “I did… poor little deluded dears think that thing is actually going to pass?” she asked rhetorically, clearly not a part of the Littles movement. “Must be true babies there to think that would ever pass.” The man nodded, but also seemed a little uncertain. “I don’t know, Irene… I’ve been hearing the arguments made and I have to say… almost convinced me…” “Oh, Richard…” she practically gasped. “Not you as well?” Richard laughed right as they walked by us. “Oh, definitely not. Just saying though… Libertalia is changing. This may be the south, but the north is having a pretty powerful influence on the senators at least. I doubt the house will pass it though…” “Oh, definitely not,” Irene agreed. “All Littles are just helpless babies and sometimes, they just need a strong hand to guide them. I mean if not us, who then? The Middles?” Both shook with laughter, and after a turned corner, were gone. When my existence began, I would have been a staunch ally of what they were saying. I even believed back then that Littles were meant to be and would have been better off regressed. Now, I was about the polar opposite end of the spectrum and would have told them both off if I could. After all, it was people like Nancy that made the passage of those laws more important than most other things right now. “What a bunch of whack jobs!” Carmen spat. “I don’t know, Carmen…” Tops began hesitantly, “not saying I’m in favor of shooting that bill down obviously, but what they said about it never passing? Can’t really fault them for thinking that might just be some elaborate joke or ploy by Littles.” “No,” Carmen sighed, “but I wish it was a little closer to reality than just a pipe dream of that pro-Littles movement.” “You just never know…” Poodee mused dreamily. “You’ve seen our daycare… that place is built with pro-Littles in mind.” We all looked at her strangely. “Uh, Poodee… how can you say that? They use FOY and most Littles end up younger than they were supposed to. How is that a pro-Little place?” I asked her. “Just think for a minute… if it wasn’t for FOY, the Bigs would use surgery, punishments, and hypnosis to hurt or change the Littles back down into submission and into their second babyhoods. FOY isn’t great either, but it’s more like going to sleep than downright abuse at least. From what you’ve seen, don’t you think the same?” She had a point, and I could tell that the rest of the group thought so as well. FOY was still part of the problem, but with all the other solutions out there, it did seem to be at least a little more merciful. In some cases, I had even heard it was able to be reversed. It would take a lot of effort, but as opposed to surgery where something would be cut, FOY gave a Little the chance to still be who they were again one day to some extent. Case in point, Emma. If it was even a decade ago, there would have been no way I could have ever helped her, however… she was facing a brutal Big, but I also knew that was only because she had been healed now to some degree. Shuffling the thought off, I got everyone back out of their seeming daze and led us on to the repair shop just down the street. A bird tried to swoop in on us on the way, but a quick little flashlight action from Tops shooed them away in no time. Then finally, after a former enemy dog, mud, others speeding through red lights, birds, and bushes, we were face to face with the shop. The whole group just stared up at the little shop at this nearly abandoned corner of town, but of course to us toys, the whole thing still seemed gargantuan. I think we were all also just a little stunned that we had even made it here at all as well. Of course, one wants to believe they will succeed in their appointed task, but the odds were always long, as we had even proved tonight with our several near misses. Another variation of this group… all of us might just be tomorrow’s mulch by now. Still, I was just personally glad we were finally here. “So… do we just ring or…?” Tops asked sarcastically. Carmen just rolled her eyes at his comment, but I knew his question was valid. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about getting in, but I was still determined to put on a front of confidence in front of the group. “Spread out… there’s got to be a way in for us toys. Bigs don’t always think of security for keeping us out.” The group nodded and split up. Poodee was with me while Tops and Carmen went their own separate ways. After a moment, Poodee kept looking but broke the silence between us. “You didn’t have a plan to get in, did you?” I sighed. “Was it that obvious?” To my shock, Poodee giggled a little. “No, but I can see when you’re lying Dash. Being quiet for so long made me a keen observer and I basically picked up on everyone’s subtle clues in their bodies. I saw you were confident to be able to get in, but not that you had a plan to do it. Besides, if you did, I don’t think we would be looking, right?” “I never thought of it like that before…” I was just glad that Poodee wasn’t making a big deal out of it now. I knew that Pete was a mentor to all of us and any plan to rescue him was considered brave, so I suspected I was being given a little slack. Still, though, I couldn’t help but feel good that she kept my small secret in confidence. “Hey Dash! Poodee!” Carmen then shouted a little bit later. “I think we found something!” Poodee and I then rushed around the corner of the building and came face to face with a large door. I couldn’t see anything up top like I had expected, but when my eyes shifted back down to confront Carmen and Tops, I saw it… it was a large doggy door right in front of me. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Another dog tonight? These Bigs collect them or something around here?” “I don’t about that, but it’s this or we bust out a window from what I can see,” Tops noted as he hoped down from a few stacked boxes by a window up higher. “Positive is though… up in the window, I saw the dog, but I also saw it’s treats. It doesn’t look too unfriendly, but I can hook one of the treats with the rope and bribe the dog as part of plan B.” It seemed to make sense, but then I felt I missed something. “Plan B? What happened to plan A?” Carmen shuffled around and gestured to Poodee. “What she said earlier… animals can sense the good in us or not. Plan A is just to walk in and hope for exactly that.” “But I’m going to play it safe and hook the treat first… just in case that’s just some toy circle gossip or rumor.” Tops gestured to each of us. “I don’t think anyone wants to take a risk otherwise, right?” We all quickly shook our heads and then went along with their plan. We each crept quietly into the doggy door and were just thankful there weren’t any extra alarms to it. The repairman likely thought a Big, Middle, or even Little would never be able to fit through the opening unseen during the day, and at night, the dog we were now about to charm, would likely take care of anything or anyone else. I just hoped that Poodee was right earlier. Tops then pulled the rope out and made a little lasso out of it. It took about seven or eight tries, but soon, he hooked one of the longer treats hanging off the edge and pulled it down. Carmen caught it while I went over cautiously and held out my paw to my fellow dog. In seconds, the dog began to stir. Its eyes opened and stared me down cold. It was the same look that Buster had given me when he first saw me. I could feel my whole body begin to internally quake in fear. I didn’t want to show it, but I knew my instincts were powerful and were probably about to get me to flee the scene in seconds. “Treat… now…” I whispered over to Tops. Tops nodded and both he and Carmen slid the treat over to me. I slowly picked it up and held it out in front of me. “Nice doggy… Easy there… just a toy, giving you a treat… no biting me please…” The dog, Bruno, sniffed my outstretched paw and the treat held within. At first, he didn’t seem to know what to do. Clearly, we were intruders and Bruno likely only had one order for things like us. At the same time though, we were apparently good toys and giving him a treat. Fortunately, seconds later, Poodee was proven correct, and our goodness and the treat won out over his training. “Oh, who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” Carmen asked in her sing-song voice to Bruno. Bruno just responded happily and licked all of us. One treat later and Bruno settled down. To my relief, we were now inside and past the ‘security.’ “Okay… this place isn’t too big, but there do seem to be a lot of rooms. I say we split up again but be sure to shout out. Time is ticking and Pete needs this part no matter what before morning. We can always delay or come in late to the daycare, but right now, Pete is the priority.” Everyone nodded and we split up individually to cover more ground this way. Presumably, we had navigated our way through the hardest obstacles already tonight. Being a repair shop, I half-expected to find bauble and half worn out fixtures from everyday appliances, and while I did find several of those objects in the first room I searched, the rest of the shop seemed dedicated to toys. It made sense of course to house us toys since he was the one who was repairing us from the daycare, but it was just downright unsettling to see so many of us here. To my ultimate sadness though, it didn’t take long to see that most in here were just husks of their former selves. Most were decades old by now and had likely already just moved on as whatever we were. I had seen it before a few weeks ago with a particular old mouse toy that just kind of stopped living as we were. There was a whole ceremony, and it was very nice, but this place… it was giving me the creeps. Essentially, for us toys, we were basically looking at a hospital, morgue, and cemetery all in one. Trying to shuffle those images out of my head, I found a backroom that seemed to be under heavy security. Given that Pete was likely to be repaired where the repairman kept all his tools, I figured they had to be valuable. A room like that was bound to have a little extra security. I was wrong. As soon as I entered, I knew I had made a mistake coming in here. The repairman had looked at me closely and a little too greedily for my own liking, but I had just passed it off as another project for him to fix… maybe a challenge even. I now thought differently as this room was filled with dozens of lines of toys. Baby lions, Miss Pinks, Mister Browns, even Hop’s model. All seemed to be asleep or even moved on, but it was the toys at the rear of the room that really drew me in and unnerved me most of all. There, tucked away preciously, were about a dozen of so of the ‘Dash’ line… my line… I slowly approached, hoping that maybe with our inherently large mental capacity, they would be able to tell me something. As soon as I came within a few feet of them, each of their eyes opened wide and stared back at me. I stopped and even jumped back a little bit in surprise. “One of us,” they chanted in unison. “Uh… hi,” I said, a little nervous. I was honestly hoping they wouldn’t recognize me in my current state, but each just seemed to peer within me more than what I felt comfortable with. “Uh… I’m looking for a parrot that might have come through here… can you all…?” “One of us,” they said in unison again. “Yeah… you said that,” I nearly stuttered as I tried to move on, “but see, I need to find a parrot. He’s about this tall and…” “One of us, brother,” another Dash said, now walking up to me. “Welcome home.” I quickly backed away. “Yeah… no thanks. I already have a home. See, I need to find a par…” “No, Dash. You belong with us,” the other me said more demandingly this time, even going so far as to walk closer to where I was. The rest soon followed, and I glanced back at the door and wondered if it would hold all of them back if it came to that. “No… I belong with Emma, and I need to get back to her…” I said, trying to go about this whole thing a different way. “See, to do that, I need to find…” “You’ve come back. It’s been so long since you’ve been here brother,” the head toy enforced, clearly not letting up or wanting to talk about Pete. “Uh, I’ve been here before? Like here, here?” I questioned. I didn’t remember that, but then again, if I was ever repaired, I was supposed to go into factory mode temporarily to preserve my systems. If that’s what was happening to the rest of the Dash’s, it could explain the creepy group speak. Disturbingly though, everyone of… me, began to quietly laugh. “Yes, brother,” they said in unison. “One of us. Come… be one of us.” The lead Dash nodded at the rest of the pack and then looked at me. “You were repaired and maintained here by one Monica Hubert.” I could see the Dash’s eyes light up a pale white and I knew he was going through online files. It was a feature I never found particularly useful, but I guess in cases like these… “Yes… you were here some time ago for your check-up, but then never returned…” “Return, brother,” the pack said in unison. “They are right, Dash. Return with us, brother,” the head Dash tried to convince me. “Return to us. Let us repair you… let us show you the way again…” I could almost feel myself being drawn into them. I didn’t want to, but I almost felt a wave of some kind leading back over to them. “Dash? Dash? Where are you? Where did you…?” Carmen then stepped into the room and saw the scene unfolding before her. “Oh… what the…” “Carmen!” I shouted. Her presence seemed to be shocking enough that I felt the wave dissipate and I quickly ran over to her. “Thank all cuddles above that you’re here! I had a…” Carmen shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know… just come on… we found Pete” She then tried to lead me, but the other Dash’s looked right back at us. Curiously though, they didn’t seem to move any further from where I had left them. “Brother…” the head Dash began again. “Why are you with her? She is beneath you. Come back to the fold. We can help you be part of the pack again.” “One of us,” the pack said in unison, their eyes now glowing the same yellow mine used. “Jiminy!” Carmen shouted out in shock over seeing my other models. She then took hold of one of my paws and refocused me back on her. “Let’s go, Dash. We shouldn’t be here!” I nodded slowly and took one last look at the leader and the pack. “We will be waiting for you, Dash… always… you’re one of us…” I could feel a pull of some kind right then, but Carmen’s tugging just helped me push past the room. After a second, I didn’t feel it, and I stopped. “Wait… Carmen… I just want to thank…” Carmen then held her own hoof up to my mouth and shook her head. “I don’t know what happened in that room, but I don’t want to know. You are our Dash, and we are here to save Pete. Let’s just agree to never talk about what I just saw in that room… for both our sakes, okay?” I slowly nodded and quickly walked away with Carmen to wherever Pete was apparently being kept. As we passed dozens of worn out or husked toys, I was just glad that she had come and pulled me away. I wasn’t sure what was going on back there, but I felt as if I stayed, I would have never wanted to leave the pack again. There was something else though as well. I wasn’t sure what it was, and for a moment, I almost thought it was a pity for them. Sure, they were shiny and even truly flashy, but they were all alone and would likely never find a Little to stay with permanently. In essence, they would never be someone’s stuffy. I don’t think they cared though, and the more I thought about it as I raced toward Pete, the more I felt it was something else. Ever since Emma had called me, ‘Pash,’ I kept rolling the name around in my head. It felt weird and just plain unnatural at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered who I even was anymore. Seeing those other near-drone Dash’s, I wondered if I really even could call myself a true ‘Dash’ anymore. Sure, I still had my speed and my abilities like those others, but I also felt a shift within myself that at the end of the day, I wasn’t the same toy that I was even beyond my special features. Now, I wasn’t sure if I was Patch exactly, but I also wondered if I just took a second to think about it, that maybe I was more Patch than Dash lately. For right now though, I had to set that thought aside and just help Pete.

I love to do it every chance I get. I even go north to a private condo where I can host anyone who might be interested. Since I have washer dryer, I can wet and mess as much as I want and go back home to 'vanilla' life with all clean clothes. My email is ds2005@aol.com (I know it's old, but it's free and still works).

Chapter 5 The meal was, of course, superb. Simon was good company and we drank some excellent red wine. He certainly wasn’t on a budget! He also insisted on me drinking mineral water “to ensure you wet your nappy like a good baby”. That didn’t take long. “Daddy, I need a wee.” “That’s what your nappy’s for, Baby. Wet it now, for Daddy, like a good girl” I needed no further encouragement. I found that wetting my nappy between the starter and mains in a Gordon Ramsey restaurant was deliciously naughty and surprisingly hot. “I done wee wee Daddy” I whispered. “You’re being a very good girl for Daddy. I’m very pleased with you Baby Louise.” “Thank you Daddy” The Dulcolax started to make its presence felt during the main course. The pressure mounted slowly and wasn’t enough to spoil a delicious meal, but I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I waited until Simon had placed his knife and fork neatly on his plate before announcing: “I want a poo Daddy” “Can you wait until dessert, Baby?” “No Daddy. I really need a poo poo.” “Okay Baby, we don’t want to ruin anyone’s evening. We’ll head back to the room. If you mess your nappy before we’re in the room I’ll give you a spanking you’ll never forget - do you understand me?” Yes Daddy.” “Good girl, come on then.” He took my hand and walked me to the lift. Even whilst holding my rumbling bowels in check I could appreciate the difference between what appeared to be happening on the surface - most folks if they were even remotely interested would just assume Simon was some rich guy with a trophy young girl on his arm, whereas the reality was more complex, humiliating and - in my view - a great deal hotter. The dummy was again placed in my mouth as the lift doors closed. I was clenching my buttocks ferociously now, my wet diaper sagging just a little. “Just hold on Baby - we don’t want to leave a stink in the lift now, do we?” “No Daddy, but I’m bursting to go! I replied The dummy remained in my mouth as the lift arrived at his floor. Again, there was no one in the corridor to see us. “When we get in the room you must ask my permission to poop. You’re not to go before you have my permission” “Okay Daddy” “The card unlocked the door, we entered hand in hand with the door casing behind us. He took my waist and turned me so that I was face to face with him. “Can I do a poo now Daddy, please Daddy?” I begged. “In a moment Baby” he said as he guided me to the bed. He sat down on the bed and manoeuvred me round so that my bum was facing him. He lifted my skirt and pulled open the poppers of my bodysuit, pulling it up so my nappy was exposed. “Now Baby. Now you can fill your nappy for Daddy”. No effort was involved. I just relaxed my buttocks and what seemed like a never-ending flow of soft poop flowed into my nappy, accompanied by burbling farts. I grunted into my dummy as the smell reached my nose. Simon put his right hand on my belly and pulled me toward him, his left hand cradling the huge bulge of poop in the bottom of my nappy. He stroked the warm mass while bringing his other hand slowly down onto the front of my nappy, putting pressure on my pussy through the wet nappy. Then he pushed hard against the poop. It oozed forward between my legs and onto my cunt. This was the very definition of submission. I was sucking on a dummy while Simon coated my arse and pussy with my own shit. He then pulled me back towards him and down onto his knee, the poop in my nappy squelching as the pressure of my body weight forced it backward and forwards into every remaining part of my nappy, my humiliation complete as he bounced me up and down on his knee effortlessly, as though I was indeed, his helpless baby.

Chapter 3 As we walked into the hotel I was excited with anticipation. I’d enjoyed Simon’s company whilst finding the the secret wearing - and wetting - of my Pampers in public quite a rush. As we entered the lift Simon again pushed the dummy into my mouth. His hand went up the front of my skirt and rubbed the sodden nappy. The lift doors opened on our floor. The dummy stayed in my mouth. Simon took my hand and walked me to the room. Fortunately, or maybe not - by this time I wasn’t sure whether I actually wanted to get caught acting as a baby - there was no one in the corridor to see me. As Simon opened the door his hand went under the back of by skirt and he guided me in with his hand on my nappy. By this time I was ready for another pee. “I wanna wee-wee Daddy” I said with my best baby lisp. Simon turned me toward him and knelt down before be, unzipping and pulling my skirt to the floor. He grasped my buttocks and kissed the front of my wet nappy. “Go on then sweetheart - do a wee for your Daddy”. I needed no further encouragement. My bladder relaxed and pee flooded into the already swollen Pampers. Simon felt the nappy fill with warm pee, massaging it front and back. As I finished he planted another kiss on my nappy, stood up and pulled my top up over my head and arms. I wasn’t wearing a bra - with such small boobs I often don’t - so that was me naked apart, of course, from a now very wet Pampers. He then picked me up in his arms and carefully placed me on the changing mat. “Time for a nice clean and dry nappy, baby” “Yeth Daddy, I’m very wet” I felt so exposed as he lent down and kissed my forehead. The teat of my dummy was again placed onto my lips, which parted to take it in and suckle. His hands explored my body, caressing my small tits and running down to my soaked nappy, which he massaged into my vulva. I felt him pull open the Pamper’s tabs and exposing my shaved pussy and arse. He took a leg in each hand and pushed my arse into the air, moving his tongue onto my clitoris. He licked my pee drenched cunt and I was loving every moment. “I’m going to fuck you baby, do you care whether it’s your pee-pee or poopy hole?” I know I was being paid well for these services, but I was certainly enjoying the moment. “Both Daddy, I just need you to wear a condom” “You’re perfect, baby, just perfect.”

Chapter 45: Lying on the cozy white rug, dressed only in a diaper and an elf hat, I found myself the focal point of a whimsical Christmas card photoshoot. The living room, bedecked in festive decorations, created a festive backdrop for the holiday-themed scene. Mommy, with a heartwarming smile, cooed babytalk at me, her love and joy radiating through every syllable. Emily, the photographer who had captured previous moments of my peculiar journey, aimed her camera, ready to freeze this festive tableau in time. The soft glow of Christmas lights cast a warm ambiance, accentuating the holiday magic enveloping the room. Ornaments, tinsel, and twinkling decorations adorned every corner, transforming our living space into a winter wonderland. "Look at the camera, sweetie," Mommy cooed, adjusting the elf hat that adorned my head. The familiar sound of Emily's camera clicking away captured each moment of this unique Christmas card endeavor. "Thank you so much, Emily," Mommy exclaimed with genuine appreciation, her eyes filled with joy as she surveyed the holiday-themed pictures being captured. Emily, ever enthusiastic, responded with a warm smile. "Oh, it's my pleasure, really! Anything for such a unique and adorable Christmas card," Emily replied, her camera still in hand, ready to capture more candid moments of my playful antics. I, in my elf hat and diaper, responded to the cheerful atmosphere with gurgles and delighted rolls on the furry white rug. The contrast between the adult-sized body dressed in festive toddler attire created a whimsical spectacle that both Mommy and Emily seemed to relish. "Patrick, can you give us one more big smile for the camera?" Emily encouraged, her enthusiasm contagious. Mommy chimed in with a playful, "That's it, sweetheart! Show off that adorable smile!" As I rolled and giggled, the camera continued to click, immortalizing each joyful moment of this unconventional Christmas card photoshoot. Emily lowered her camera for a moment and observed me with a curious expression. "Wow, he’s really embraced the little one within, hasn’t he? He seem even more immersed in the baby role than the last time I did a photoshoot with him," she remarked, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement. Mommy chuckled softly and nodded. "Yes, he's been quite dedicated to his little lifestyle lately. It's been an interesting journey, to say the least. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" she cooed, addressing me with a playful tone. I responded with a series of happy gurgles, seemingly lost in the moment of the photoshoot and the comforting presence of Mommy and Emily. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe it's the same Patrick I met a while back," Emily continued, her eyes still focused on the unique sight before her. Mommy nodded, her gaze filled with a mix of pride and affection. "He's come a long way, and every day is an adventure. Isn't that right, my little elf?" she said, gently tousling my hair. I responded with a delighted coo, my focus returning to the present moment of the photoshoot, the lights, and the holiday ambiance. The cheerful ambiance of the Christmas photoshoot continued, with Emily skillfully capturing each moment of my playful interactions. I rolled on the furry rug, giggling as Mommy presented me with colorful toys, the festive decorations providing a delightful backdrop. Emily, the skilled photographer, moved around gracefully, her camera capturing each gurgle, smile, and rollover as Mommy in her cheerful and festive spirit, cooed babytalk at me, encouraging my playful antics on the plush carpet. However, in the midst of the festive revelry, the inevitable happened – a warm sensation spread within my diaper, and the telltale squishiness announced the arrival of a messy surprise, as the warm mush spread in my diaper, turning the pristine white fabric into a messy brown. I couldn't help but react with an innocent giggle, my diaper now visibly soiled in front of Emily's lens. Mommy, ever the playful caregiver, responded with feigned surprise, "Oh, my little elf, did you make a stinky in your diaper?" Her tone carried both amusement and affection. Caught up in the spirit of the moment, I giggled in response, fully aware that my diapered state had become a central element of the photoshoot. Emily, maintaining her professionalism continued snapping pictures, capturing the unfiltered reality of the moment, a mix of infantile delight and the messy consequences of my chosen lifestyle. "It seems like we've got a little mess to clean up, don't we?" Mommy remarked, retrieving the diaper bag nearby.” “Could we, maybe” Emily hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Wait a little bit with changing him. This would make for some great portrait pictures to be used in the future, maybe for Mommy Mag or maybe even for Patrick’s article. Him without a care in the world, in a soiled diaper. This would really show that he truly went all the way back to zero in term of his potty-training. Not even caring about laying there in a messy diaper, like a infant.” Mommy, always supportive of capturing authentic moments, agreed with a warm smile. "Of course, Emily!” “Maybe you could cradle him for a bit?” Emily continued. “Sure, We want these photos to tell the real story of our little elf's Christmas. Let's make it a moment to remember." As Mommy cradled me in her arms, the festive lights casting a warm glow, Emily continued to work her magic behind the camera. The soiled diaper, while a reminder of the messy realities of my unique lifestyle, became a part of the narrative, captured in each snapshot. Emily skillfully framed shots that highlighted the innocence and vulnerability of the moment. The click of the camera persisted, punctuating the air with the rhythm of a holiday carol. Mommy cooed babytalk as she gently cradled me, her warmth and affection palpable in every frame. As Emily continued to work, she occasionally offered gentle suggestions, ensuring the composition reflected the tender bond between Mommy and me. Once the impromptu photoshoot concluded Emily, grateful for the opportunity to capture such genuine moments, expressed her appreciation before gathering her equipment, before Mommy, with a soft kiss on my forehead, whisked me away to the changing table to address the messy aftermath.

Chapter: 36 Over the next months, my life underwent a profound transformation as I settled into the peculiar rhythm of my regressed existence. The nursery, once an alien landscape, became a familiar haven Days were spent in the confines of my playpen, surrounded by an array of toys that had become my companions. Mommy, with unwavering dedication, orchestrated a routine that mirrored the needs of a toddler. Diaper changes, feedings, baths, bottles and playtime became a ritual, each one marked by the familiar scents of baby powder and wipes. The playful melodies of nursery rhymes filled the air as Mommy skillfully navigated the intricacies of diapering, her babytalk creating an intimate atmosphere. The snap of onesies being fastened and the crinkle of plastic signaled the cyclical nature of each day, a repetitive yet oddly comforting routine. Mealtime evolved into a bonding experience, with Mommy guiding me through the process of spoon-feeding and introducing a variety of baby foods. The highchair became a cornerstone of shared moments and the exploration of new flavors. As daylight waned, the nursery underwent a transformation into a bedtime sanctuary. The gentle hum of a lullaby accompanied the ritual of preparing a warm bottle of milk, a prelude to the comforting embrace of nighttime regression. The rhythmic suckling on the bottle became a nightly routine, a soothing transition from wakefulness to slumber. The passage of time blurred as I navigated the ebb and flow of my regressed life. Moments of frustration and resistance gave way to a subtle acceptance, a willingness to embrace the peculiarities of my journey. The playfulness of toddlerhood became a lens through which I viewed the world, and Mommy's unwavering care provided a sense of security in the midst of regression. Through the routine of diaper changes, playtime in the playpen, and the nightly bottle-feeding ritual, the boundaries between adulthood and infancy continued to fade. When Mommy had to step out of the house, Aunty Karen and Uncle Rob were always ready to step in. Auntie Karen took charge of the days, bringing an energetic and nurturing vibe to my regressed routine. The playpen when shared with Jack became a vibrant playground as she introduced a variety of toys and engaged in interactive activities. Days with Jack brought a unique camaraderie to my life. The playpen became a shared space, fostering interaction and connection between us. Jack's playful energy infused the day with laughter and shared exploration of toys. Diaper changes accompanied by playful chatter and giggles turned into a cooperative venture, making the routine feel like a shared experience. Auntie Karen's maternal touch added a unique dimension to the day, making it a blend of care and cheerful play. Days spent with Uncle Rob turned into a series of playful adventures. The nursery and often also the living room transformed into an imaginative space as we built block towers and explored a world of make-believe. Diaper changes were met with laughter, and Uncle Rob's storytelling added an entertaining element to the day. His relaxed and jovial approach made the hours feel like a joyous escapade, creating a memorable day of bonding. As the days grew cooler, my wardrobe underwent a gradual transition to fall fashion. Onesies gave way to long-sleeved versions in cozy fabrics like cotton blends. Shortalls were replaced by warmer overalls, providing additional coverage against the brisk air. Socks became a necessity, and lightweight jackets or hoodies made occasional appearances to shield me from the chill during outdoor play. With the arrival of winter, Mommy embraced snug warmth and layers. Onesies evolved into footed sleepers, ensuring I stayed cozy during colder nights. Thick, fuzzy onesies featuring adorable animal designs became a winter staple. The inclusion of mittens and a cozy hat added an extra layer of protection during outdoor excursions. The wardrobe also incorporated warmer accessories like scarves and blankets for additional comfort, creating a winter ensemble that balanced style and practicality in the midst of my regressed journey. Mommy, with a gentle approach, began incorporating more bottle feedings into my daily routine. The warm embrace of the baby bottle became not just a nighttime ritual but a familiar companion throughout the day. The transition from spoon-fed purees to bottle feedings added a layer of infantile dependence As the liquid diet took precedence, my daily routine became punctuated by the rhythmic suckling of the bottle. The flavors of warm milk or diluted juices became a constant presence; each sip a reminder of the transformed reality I embraced. In contrast, Jack embarked on a journey of self-discovery with feeding. His progression mirrored a natural development as he transitioned from being spoon-fed to gaining more independence in managing solid foods. The highchair, once a vessel for shared moments, became a platform for Jack's growing autonomy. While I found solace in the rhythmic routine of bottle feedings, Jack's increasing ability to feed himself represented a parallel narrative of development within our lives. One day while visiting Aunty Karen and Jack, as Mommy once again guided the nipple of the bottle to my lips, a routine that felt second nature by that point. The subtle rhythm of my suckling echoed in the room, my eyes wandered to the adjacent highchair, where Jack sat with a bowl of finger foods before him. The clinking of his spoon against the bowl and the occasional giggle underscored his newfound independence in feeding. His tiny fingers grasped at the food, a display of growing autonomy that stood in stark contrast to my own liquid-oriented nourishment. As I continued with the bottle, the contrast between Jack's self-feeding and my dependence on Mommy's care became increasingly apparent. Jack seemed to have effortlessly surpassed me in this aspect of development, his actions a testament to the natural progression within our regressed household. As autumn's chill settled in and winter brought layers of cozy clothing, I found myself navigating a unique evolution in my regressed journey. The transition from walking to crawling became a subtle but significant shift, marked by the practicalities of the season. Initially, the layers of winter clothes made walking a bit cumbersome. The added bulk of layers upon layers of thicker onesies, woolen leggings, overalls, and warm socks seemed to impede the smooth stride I once had. It was during these moments that crawling became a more appealing and efficient means of getting around. The playpen, once a space for exploration on two feet, now saw me preferring the familiar rhythm of hands and knees. The soft carpet of the nursery became a textured landscape under my palms, and the act of crawling felt like a return to a more instinctive mode of movement. The rhythmic sound of my hands and knees against the carpet became the soundtrack to our household. Walking, an ability mastered in the past, took a backseat to the allure of crawling. As winter's chill lingered, crawling became not just a practical choice but a comforting regression, and so, with each hands-and-knees journey through the nursery and house, I embraced the unique fusion of regressed mobility and seasonal practicality.

Chapter 35: In the depths of the night, the tranquility of the nursery was disrupted by the arrival of an unsettling visitor—a nightmare that gripped my subconscious and transported me to a realm of eerie regression. In the haunting realm of the nightmare, the racecar-themed nursery twisted into a surreal landscape where the boundaries between adult and infant blurred. The mobile above spun with a disconcerting slowness, casting elongated shadows that danced eerily on the dimly lit walls. The dream began with a disorienting shift in perspective, as I found myself trapped within the body of an infant. The onesies adorned with playful patterns clung to my tiny form, and the plush carpet beneath me felt like an uncharted landscape as I attempted to navigate the nursery floor on wobbly legs. As the dream progressed, Mommy emerged as a central figure in this disconcerting journey. The nursery's atmosphere transformed into an otherworldly haze, each diaper change an unsettling ritual. Mommy's hands moved with a bizarre tenderness, guiding me through the process with an eerie blend of maternal care and dreamlike detachment. The scent of baby powder hung heavy in the air as I lay on the changing table, the onesie unfastened with a gentle precision that contradicted the nightmare's disturbing nature. Mommy's coos and baby talk reverberated, each syllable echoing in the surreal landscape of the dream as she navigated the intricacies of diapering with maternal ease. The nightmare unfolded in a disconcerting sequence of infantile experiences. Mommy, now a surreal presence, cradled me in her arms, her voice a melodic hum that seemed to pull me further into the regression abyss. The bottle she offered, filled with formula, became a lifeline in the dream, each feeding session accompanied by a disorienting sensation of dependency. As the nightmare reached its crescendo, Mommy's embrace transformed into a scene of haunting intimacy. The nursery's once-whimsical décor faded into a hazy backdrop as she cradled me close, her babytalk and coos merging into a hypnotic lullaby. The dream's surreal narrative led to a culmination that left me utterly vulnerable. The dream plunged deeper into the regression abyss as I found myself unable to communicate, my attempts at adult speech replaced by unintelligible coos and cries. Mommy's babytalk, once comforting, now felt like an echoing reminder of my infantile state, as I lay in her arms, a helpless participant in this disconcerting ritual. Mommy's voice, now a melodic coo, enveloped me as she began the haunting act. Her tender fingers cradled my head, guiding me to her breast. The surreal sensation of latching on, once foreign to my adult self, became an inescapable reality in the dream's twisted narrative. The room, now devoid of the whimsy that once characterized it, seemed to close in with each rhythmic suckle. The echoes of Mommy's cooing and babytalk became the disorienting soundtrack to this haunting regression, a symphony of infantile dependency. In the dream, my adult understanding and apprehension clashed with the overwhelming sensations of breastfeeding. Mommy's gaze, a mix of maternal affection and dreamlike detachment, met mine as the dream pushed further into the realms of surreal regression. The dream's disconcerting nature manifested in the fusion of infantile helplessness and adult awareness. Unable to communicate in anything but unintelligible coos, I became entangled in the haunting act of breastfeeding. My eyes fluttered open, the haze of slumber gradually giving way to awareness. The nursery's soft glow greeted me, the race car-themed decor painted in the muted hues of dawn. As I attempted to rise, the realization struck: I was confined within the crib, a circumstance I couldn't escape. The crib bars, once again my prison, encased me in a cocoon of enforced dependence. The room, now eerily familiar from the dream, presented itself with disconcerting clarity. The plush mobile above swayed gently, casting shadows that seemed to linger with the unsettling echoes of my nightmares. The oversized baby bottles and pacifiers adorned the shelves, and the rockingchair loomed ominously in the corner. As I shifted in the crib, the telltale rustle of the diaper beneath me hinted at the aftermath of the dream—wet and messy evidence of my nocturnal regression. In the quiet of the nursery, the realization that my nightmare had seeped into the waking world left me with a sense of disorientation. The racecar motifs on the walls appeared more grotesque, and the nursery furniture, once comforting, now held a sinister air. With a deep breath, I summoned the courage to peer over the crib bars, surveying the room with a mix of confusion and trepidation. The changing table stood as a beacon of impending vulnerability, and the mobile above swayed like a spectral guide through the surreal landscape of enforced infancy. It was in this moment of uneasy contemplation that I felt the full weight of the diaper's contents, and the urgency of my predicament became undeniable. A wave of helplessness washed over me as I realized the crib's bars were unyielding, the nursery furniture an inescapable maze. The echoes of my nightmare lingered, but now reality pressed upon me with a more immediate demand. In my vulnerability, I couldn't suppress the instinct to cry out for Mommy. "Mommy!" The word escaped my lips, a plea that echoed through the nursery, carrying the weight of my infantile dependence. In the dim light, I waited, the mobile above swaying in silent response, as the room held its breath, suspended between the echoes of nightmares and the cries for maternal reassurance. "M-mommy!" My cry resonated through the dimly lit nursery, a desperate plea for comfort and release from the crib's confines. The mobile above continued its gentle sway, casting shadows that danced in eerie tandem with my unsettled emotions. The room seemed to hold its breath before, at last, the nursery door creaked open. Mommy entered, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the nightlight. The sight of her brought a mix of relief and vulnerability, as she approached the crib with a tender expression that belied the peculiar circumstances. "There's my precious baby!" Mommy cooed, her voice adopting a playful lilt as she reached for an unlatched the side of the crib, sliding the railing down. The bars that had felt like prison now offered no resistance as she gently guided me out of the crib, the plush mobile above seemed to celebrate the reunion with a gentler sway. With my damp and messy diaper sagging below me, she slowly guided me across the nursery, the soft carpet tickling my bare feet, as we made our way across the room towards the rocking chair in the corner. "Did my wittle one have a bad dream?" she continued in a singsong tone, her words a soothing melody that sought to pacify the remnants of my nightmares. As she settled into the rocking chair, placing me onto her lap cradling me against her chest, the room took on a new perspective. The racecar-themed nursery, once a disorienting landscape, now became the backdrop to a more tender scene and I felt safe in Mommy embrace. The rocking chair swayed gently, mirroring the rhythm of the mobile above. Mommy's fingers traced soothing patterns on my back as she continued her babytalk. "There, there, my sweet baby. Mommy's here to make it all better," she crooned, her words wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. The echoes of the nightmare faded into the background, replaced by the comforting melody of maternal reassurance, a lullaby that transcended the peculiarities of my regression journey. As Mommy cradled me in the rocking chair, the scent of baby powder lingering in the air, I couldn't help but feel a mix of vulnerability and frustration. The plush mobile above swayed gently, casting its whimsical shadows, but my adult consciousness clashed with the infantile reality that surrounded me. "Mommy, this... this is too much," I mumbled, my voice betraying both weariness and resistance. "I never asked for any of this. I don't want to be treated like a baby." Mommy's soothing babytalk continued as she looked down at me with a tender smile. "Oh, my precious one, I know it's different, but Mommy wants what's best for you. You're my sweet baby, and we're just giving you the care you need right now." The rocking chair's rhythmic motion seemed to lull me into a peculiar calm, but my adult mind resisted the regression that had become my reality. "But Mommy, I'm not a baby. I'm an adult, and I don't need all of this. This is too far." She stroked my hair gently, her fingers tracing comforting patterns on my scalp. "I understand, my love, but sometimes we need to take a step back to move forward. This way, you can experience potty training all over again with your baby cousin Jack. It'll be a special bond between the two of you." I sighed, the conflict within me palpable. "Take a step back? Special bond? I just wanted to write my article. I just wanted to help Jack with his potty training. Help parents with their kids, not become an actual baby myself." Mommy's gaze held a mixture of understanding and determination. "Sweetheart, it's only temporary. This way you’ll get the full experience of learning to use the big boy potty again. Just imagine how amazing your article will be. Jack is nowhere near ready for potty training yet, but when the time is right, you'll grow up again with him.. This is just a unique experience, a way to bond with Jack and help him through this stage of life." I struggled with the conflicting emotions, torn between the desire to assert my adulthood and the strange allure of the maternal comfort surrounding me. "But Mommy, I never imagined it would go this far." She cradled my face in her hands, her eyes locking onto mine with unwavering warmth. "I know, my love. But trust Mommy. This is a journey, and I'll be here every step of the way. It might seem overwhelming now, but you'll grow from this experience, and we'll cherish the memories we create together." As the rocking chair continued its soothing motion, Mommy's words carried a comforting weight. I felt torn between the familiar longing for adulthood and the embrace of regression. With a gentle kiss on my forehead, Mommy whispered, "Let's take it one day at a time, my sweet baby. You're not alone, and I love you no matter what stage of life you're in." Her soothing words echoed in my mind. The clash between my adult consciousness and the regression that had enveloped me felt like an unending struggle, a push-and-pull of conflicting emotions. The adult part of me screamed for independence, for the ability to shed the onesies and diapers that now adorned me. As Mommy's fingers continued their soothing patterns on my back, I couldn't help but replay our conversation in my mind. "Trust Mommy," she had said. "One day at a time." The words carried a weight of both reassurance and a daunting acknowledgment of the path that lay ahead. The room seemed to hold its breath, the shadows of the mobile casting elongated shapes that danced with the conflict within me. I took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of baby powder, and closed my eyes. "Maybe she's right," I thought. "Maybe there's something to be gained from this unique experience. Potty training with Jack, creating memories that transcend the ordinary." The rocking chair's motion felt less like a prison and more like a cradle of support. The echoes of my resistance began to fade, replaced by a tentative willingness to embrace the peculiar journey that had become my reality. "One day at a time," I whispered to myself, the nursery's comforting ambiance wrapping around me like a cocoon of reassurance. The clash within me began to subside, replaced by a tentative curiosity about the unexpected path that lay ahead. Mommy, with a subtle shift, reached over to a nearby shelf, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of warmth and assurance. In her hands, she cradled a baby bottle. The room seemed to hold its breath as she silently offered it to me, the plastic nipple a tangible invitation to embrace the regression journey. I hesitated, the bottle dangling in the air between us, its presence a testament to the reality I found myself navigating. The inner struggle resurfaced, but Mommy's eyes conveyed a quiet reassurance, urging me to trust the process. With a deep breath, I reluctantly accepted the bottle, it’s cool plastic against my fingertips sending a shiver through me. Mommy adjusted the position of the bottle, guiding the nipple to my lips with a tender touch. The nursery, once a realm of conflict, now became the backdrop to a transformative moment. As the first drops of the warm milk touched my lips, a wave of apprehension swept over me. The taste, though familiar from my past, felt like a symbolic crossing into the realm of infantile dependence. Mommy, ever attuned to my emotions, maintained eye contact, her gaze a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty. The rhythmic motion of the rocking chair created a gentle cadence, and as I reluctantly began to suckle from the bottle, the nursery embraced the peculiar fusion of regression and acceptance. The lull of Mommy's humming filled the room. With each sip, the apprehension gradually gave way to a sense of surrender. As my eyes closed, I felt the weight of the bottle against my lips, the nursery fading into a cocoon of warmth and reassurance. Mommy's humming, a lullaby that echoed the journey of acceptance, enveloped me in its comforting.