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Cereal. Milk. Spoon. Cassius didn’t want to admit to himself that a bowl of Frooty Swirls would be the highlight of his day off, but he couldn’t think of what else would top it. His slim selection of friends were busy, or lived on the internet, accessible only through his phone, so his free time would be used to run errands and binge re-runs. At least the cereal was crunchy and sweet. He checked his phone, scrolling social media as he chewed the froot-flavored cereal. Someone had posted a picture from an ABDL meetup, showing three diapered butts arranged in a row, with a caption about how awesome their week had been. He felt the impulse to leave a reply, but had no idea what to say. Jealousy overwhelmed his feelings, and Cassius knew that if he tried to respond, he’d just come off as lonely, so he scrolled away. It didn’t help. Someone else was talking about how nice their Mommy was. Another user was bragging about both his Littles. Everyone had friends, or partners, or just someone. Everyone except Cassius. He had his Frooty Swirls. He’d gone to a few meetups and munches, but social anxiety had left him paralyzed and quiet throughout–he’d barely said a word, and doubted that anyone liked him or wanted him to return. Sure, they’d all been attending the ABDL meetup, same as him, but…he was different. He didn’t have what they had, they made it seem so natural. Pursing his lips, he set aside his phone, focusing on the cereal. The Frooty Swirls had been the same since the late 80s, and just tasting them always got him in a Little headspace. It was the only thing that felt like a socially acceptable way to regress–indulging in fake sweeteners that reminded him of his childhood. Reading the back of the cereal box, he skimmed the fluffy text explaining a game. ‘I’ve lost all my frooty magic! Can you find all six froots and make a wish?’ Choosing to engage, he scanned the box, looking for the cereal shapes. Oranges were in the corner, lemons were behind the nutrition information, berries–they never did say what kind of berry it was supposed to be–were hidden on a fake tree. Limes he found right behind the mascot, cherries were underneath a word search, and finally, he found apples right inside the Frooty Swirls logo at the top of the box. He’d won. It was childishly simple, but that was kind of the point–this was his singular chance to regress every day. And, hey, the box said that if he won, he could make a wish. (I wish…I wish I didn’t just have interests that a handful of people online could relate to.) (I wish I was normal.) … Cassius steered his way through the grocery store’s bread aisle, lost in his phone as he got the shopping out of the way. He made it all the way to the end of the aisle before realizing he hadn’t added anything to his cart since the dairy section. He’d done it again, losing himself in internet jealousy. Frowning, he pocketed his phone, resolving not to go onto social media anymore until he was done with his errands. Turning around, he pointed his cart towards… He hesitated. A couple stood in front of him, two men in their thirties, walking down the aisle in Cassius’s direction. They were holding hands, which was cute, but not what made him stop and stare. One of the men was wearing a pair of shortalls with a snug baby blue shirt beneath. He wasn’t sucking on a pacifier or anything, but his whole demeanor just seemed Little, and Cassius couldn’t help but glance down around his waist. The crotch of his shortalls seemed to be a bit puffy, but that might have just been– “Excuse me?” the more mature of the two asked. Cassius froze–he’d been caught staring, trying to size up whether the man in shortalls was wearing a diaper. “I–uh–” he stammered, searching for an excuse. “Can you reach that for us? ‘Bare Bread’, right next to the whole grain.” He stepped back and pointed, nodding with his head towards his partner. “This one’s picky, he’ll only eat the crustless kind.” Blinking, Cassius caught up to the situation. Both men were on the shorter side, while Cassius always loomed in every conversation. “Oh, sure.” Nodding, he grabbed the crustless bread from the top shelf, passing it to the man. “Here.” “Say ‘Thank you’,” the man said, nudging his shortall-clad partner. “Thank you,” the one in shortalls said, blushing and looking down at his feet. Cassius stood there, stunned, as the two men left him to resume their shopping routine. (Are they…did I just…) he thought. He would have bet anything that they were ABDL, or at least in a daddy dom/little boy relationship, but…they were so brazen about it. Then again, maybe it only stood out to Cassius because their dynamic was already on his mind. Shaking his head, he resumed his shopping, filling up his cart. He had just managed to shake off the feelings of uncertain jealousy and surprise when he got to the checkout aisle, and then it snapped back in full force. On a spinning rack, right next to the candy, were pacifiers. His heart began to flutter, looking around as though he’d been caught in something, but nobody paid him any mind. He looked at the pacifiers again–they weren’t labeled as ‘for adults’ or anything, but some of them seemed too big for any baby. Looking away, his eyes fell on the magazine rack, and his anxiety spiked further. A celebrity was pictured on the cover of a tabloid magazine, some candid paparazzi photo, and her midsection had been highlighted by a red circle. Next to it, photoshopped to show off bare skin, the magazine depicted her in a bunny-print diaper. Cassius stared, eyes widening, until the cashier cleared his throat. “Sir?” He looked up. The line in front of him had cleared–(how long had I been staring?)–and it was his turn to check out. Stepping forward and setting his groceries onto the checkout conveyor, he tried to put it out of his mind. … Flipping through the magazine options at the auto center, Cassius was relieved to find that they were all normal. Hot rod cars, sports gossip, the kind of thing he’d expect from a magazine rack–no diaper wearing mechanics just springing out at him from nowhere. Just his same old auto shop, where he’d been coming for tune-ups and oil changes since he earned his permit as a pimply teen. Taking a seat by the coffee maker, he settled in to wait. The oil change wouldn’t be long, but he actually liked the short break it offered him–a chance to just kick up his feet and do nothing for a bit. He patted himself on the back for how effective his self-imposed social media break was already proving to be. This relative relaxation lasted for only a few moments, until he heard a distinct ratta-tatta-ratta-tatta clicking sound roll up right outside the auto shop. Glancing over his shoulder, he identified the noise in a heartbeat–a tomboyish woman about his age was half standing on a bicycle, playing cards jammed between the spokes to produce the overt rattle. The rider wore elastic shorts and a Transformers T-shirt with a matching backpack, her outfit capped off–literally–with a baseball cap turned backwards on her head. Frowning, Cassius watched the woman hop off her bike and walk it in through the auto shop’s doors. Getting the attention of the man behind the desk, the cyclist said, “My front tire keeps losing air, Mister B–you think you can take a look at it? I think I’ve got a leak.” Mr. Burnett, a man in his fifties who’d worked at the shop for as long as Cassius had been driving, smirked at the new customer. “Two, by the looks of it.” Eyes widening, Cassius darted his gaze down, spotting two rather distinct crescent-moon shaped wet marks on the newcomer’s elastic shorts. The woman blushed slightly, but seemed more flustered than upset, muttering, “Aw, dangit…” Chuckling, Mr. Burnett nodded to the side. “Go and get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom, I’ll get that tire checked out.” Cassius realized he was blushing more deeply than the customer whose… whose diaper had leaked. Ripping his gaze away, he fumbled for a distraction, reaching for the TV remote by the coffee maker. He hoped to just give himself something to focus on so that he wouldn’t stare at the obviously diapered man who’d just rode in on his bicycle. Blinking for a moment, the old tube TV hummed, then began to display some reality show garbage. A dating show, just the sort of gameshow pablum he needed. Cassius almost sighed in relief, until he saw a woman waddle onto screen, clad in little save for a onesie and the diaper obviously poking out from beneath it. Face turning bright red, he stammered, looking around to see if anyone else in the waiting room had reacted to the absurd images on screen. “I–is anyone else seeing this?” A woman sitting next a few chairs down glanced up from a quiet conversation with her husband, then rolled her eyes at the screen. “Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. “I know–it’s like they don’t know how to write shows anymore, it’s all reality sex appeal crap.” (What?) Flicking off the TV, Cassius got to his feet, walking to the desk. “Is–is my car ready?” Mr. Burnett glanced over his shoulder, through the window into the garage, and then turned back and nodded. “Looks like it’s being parked just now. You’re all paid up, so you’re ready to go.” “Great,” Cassius said. “I think I need to get some air.” Behind him, the woman he’d spoken to stood, whispering to her husband, just loud enough that Cassius overheard. “Sweetie, you’re messy–did you remember to pack the diaper bag?” Looking over his shoulder, Cassius saw the woman’s husband flush and shake his head. Feeling like he might explode from awkward confusion, it was all Cassius could do not to break into a run as he fled the auto shop. … Cassius couldn’t deny the truth any longer as he wandered into the department store, confronted immediately with the spring fashion displays. Some of it was expected–Bikinis, various styles of shorts and tops and trendy drop waist dresses, but right next to it were onesies, shortalls, and rompers in adult sizes. Not plain ones, either–the sizing made it clear these were for adults, yet the design had an overtly juvenile streak. ABDL clothing in everything but name. Even modern, chic adult diapers sat stacked in packages, ready for customers–their trendiness was underlined by the fact that several models were displayed on posters wearing them. He couldn’t begin to guess how this had happened, but he couldn’t argue with the spring sale section in front of him. His interests were…normal. And he couldn’t help himself. Picking out a onesie with a slightly retro-style print on the front, he glanced about, as though someone might see him and catch him in the act of buying clothing that was there for him to buy. Hunching his shoulders and slipping off to the changing area, he found the first open room, ducked inside, and fumbled with opening the snaps on the onesie. It felt like every other experience he’d ever had in a changing room: awkward. Still, as he got out of his shorts and shirt and into the new garment, it also felt right. He was just trying something on. A popular, maybe even a slightly boring bit of fashion. Stepping out, he looked at himself in the mirror. The onesie was cute on him. And it fit, too–he didn’t have to worry about it not being long enough for his tall frame, he could see it on him. Maybe a bit baggy between the legs, but all in all, he couldn’t help but grin as he saw it. Then a woman walked by and all his newfound confidence vanished, shrinking away. He blushed, crossing his arms over his chest, looking to the door of his changing room so he could retreat as quickly as possible. Noting his suddenly demure posture, the woman stepped back. She was about his age, and well over a foot shorter than him, but she carried her posture with confidence and quiet empathy as she raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Hey–no need to be embarrassed, tall guys can be little too.” “I…” Cassius began, his blush still plastered firmly on his face. “It’s…” “I know, fashion magazines always find the smallest guy they can,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But you can’t let that shape how you think about yourself–you look cute in that onesie, and you don’t need to be four feet tall on your tip-toes to pull it off.” Eyes widening, Cassius couldn’t quite handle the rush of emotions that flooded him. “I–you think I’m cute?” She smiled, a tiny giggle escaping her, but it wasn’t condescending. “Though–it’d fit better with the proper bottoms, those onesies really need something to pad them out around the waist.” Looking back at himself in the mirror, Cassius blinked a few times–his vision had begun to blur. “Can I ask you a question?” “Sure thing,” she said. “You don’t think it’s weird?” She shook her head, smiling. “Not at all, sweetheart. It takes all sorts, doesn’t it? Tall littles, short bigs–even boring people who don’t want a dynamic. I don’t think I’d ever want to be someone’s little girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the appeal.” Shrugging, she nodded to the onesie on his body again. “You should get that.” “Yeah? Does it make me look good?” he asked, turning to glance at himself in the mirror again. “It makes you look happy,” she replied. Nodding, he mumbled a thank you, shocked and overjoyed as he stepped back into the changing room. His fingers fumbled as the crotch snaps as he undressed, returning to his old clothes. The old clothes. (I don’t have to hide,) he realized, holding his old shirt in his hands. (I can just be…me.) Pulling it over his head, he grabbed the onesie, rushing out of the changing room. There was just one more opportunity he couldn’t wait for–he’d been waiting too long already. He searched around the store, looking from side to side as he left the changing room. He passed a package of diapers in his size and snagged them on the way, but that wasn’t his real goal. (I just casually picked up a pack of diapers, in public,) he realized, shocked, but he had little time to think about it as he found the woman he’d been looking for, putting back a blouse on the rack she’d gotten it from. “Hey,” he said, approaching, raising a nervous hand, stammering over his words. “I know we just talked, but–hi. I’m Cassius.” She looked up at him and smiled, glancing down to the purchases in his hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Cassius,” she replied, looking back up to his face. “I’m Tilly.” “I was just–well, I wondered if you…” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well…this is dumb, we barely talked, but–” Grinning, Tilly let his stammering fizzle out and nodded. “A coffee date would be lovely,” she confirmed, cutting through his uncertainty. “Or you can get juice, if you’re too little to have caffeine.” A smile spread across his face, and Cassius bubbled with more excitement than he could ever remember feeling since adolescence. “Just one condition, though,” Tilly added, cutting into his glee just slightly. Cassius nodded. “Of course, what is it?” Her eyes lowered to the package of diapers under his arm, the onesie still folded over them. “Be sure you dress your best, okay?” The End ... Thank you for reading! This story was written as a commission by one of my lovely supporters. 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Hey everyone! This chapter is a little shorter and lighter than most of the other ones for this story, but I felt it was also necessary to include it before the ending plots start to truly unfold. After all, there are only three more chapters after this one. So, keeping that in mind, if everything goes according to plan, the final chapter should be posted sometime on Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday at the latest of this week. I will likely quickly jump into my next story, but further details about all that will be posted with my final chapter. Also, just a small note here that I do reference the events of the other story (Dash’s Redemption), so everyone who read it should know relatively what had happened, but for those of you just reading this story only, basically, Nancy hit a kid and then assaulted the staff one morning, and as a result, Emma was removed from her care and placed into the temporary custody of the daycare. It’s a special rule, which I do mention with everything else, but it’s just temporary until Emma can find herself another caregiver. For those of you more curious about the events that unfolded with Nancy though, simply read Chapter 13: Abandonment By the Rainbow. 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 13: Finding Those Who Care It's amazing how much a single day can change your entire life. Since I had left Mrs. Tatum’s foster home, I had lived with Nancy. It was all wonderful and I felt like I had even found a friend during that time, but my continued regression in this society only heightened Nancy’s emotional state to the point where she had become the worst kind of Big out there. Now, though, all that was done. I barely witnessed the whole incident, having been escorted out of the main lobby of the daycare right in the middle of it, but fresh off her frustration with my shown ability to read the previous night, Nancy was already highly irritable. Due to all my time in daycare with my magical stuffy, I hadn’t regressed as much as she wanted, but she remained firm that everything that happened the previous night would keep happening until I regressed once more. Fortunately for my own mind, despite last night hurting it a bit already, I was still cognizant when a fellow regressed Little here, Travis, saw her sour mood and offered her a cupcake from the tray that he had brought for his birthday. Again, I really didn’t see too much of what happened next, but apparently, Nancy smacked the cupcake down on the floor. Travis got angry and threw it back at her, and she then hit him. It was almost too terrible to be believed, but within minutes, Nancy had assaulted most of the staff and was then escorted out of the building and promptly arrested. Fearing what would happen to me with her absence, I had essentially broken down and was so distressed that I was temporarily put back in the Burrows room to ensure that I wouldn’t hurt myself in my distress. The staff’s caring devotion to my well-being was heartwarming, but also a little frustrating as they had been keeping me temporarily regressed until they deemed that I was more emotionally stable. It was a lot to endure, but they also had that power over me now. Since Nancy’s arrest, I had been staying with the daycare until I could be assigned a new caregiver. I guess some law existed where temporary custody could be granted to ‘safe spots,’ like the daycare, to ensure an easier transition with an already familiar environment with the Little. I was sad to most likely never see my home again but being with Patch all the time now quickly made up for that fact. Still, things moved on quickly, and not long after I was deemed ‘calm enough,’ by the staff, I was immediately shown to my new potential caregivers. The first lady seemed a little too strict, and while the second man seemed nice and all, I felt the magic within my stuffy will me away from him. I was a little upset not ending up with him, but at that point, I just didn’t question whenever I felt a pull from my magical stuffy. So, when I met with Lilian and Jimmy, and Patch then kind of edged me toward them, I didn’t question it either. At first, we all seemed shy around each other, but as they came in one day a little while later to check on me, I almost felt an odd sort of shift with both Bigs. They had more confidence, sure, but there was something else. If I didn’t know any better, I might have even called it a bond with them now. Regardless though, I was just happy to answer their questions and go along with everything as long as it was fun and not demoralizing or dangerous. “I heard you like princesses and pink a lot, sweetie. Is that true?” Lillian asked me as all three of sat around one of the smaller tables and colored together. The couple just seemed amused to join me and I found it hilarious when they first sat down and tried to sit as properly as they could in the tiny awkward Little-sized chairs. I nodded my head. “Uh-huh! Pwincess Poppy’s my favowite!” Both chuckled and smiled a little bit. “I’ll definitely have to remember that then,” Jimmy noted as he finished coloring one of the paws of the teddy bear picture in front of him. We all continued like that for a little while, but after they started asking me about my past, I started to get a little distressed. After everything that happened to me, I still wasn’t sure about a lot of things, and it didn’t take long for them to figure that out about me as well. “Hmmm… you know… you seem oddly familiar…” Lillian mused at one point a little while later. “I was actually just about to say that as well, dear,” Jimmy agreed with his wife. He then turned to me. “Do we seem familiar to you at all, Emma?” I racked my brain about as much as it could, but I could only scarcely feel a familiarity with the two. “Eh… maybe? My memowy isn’ dat gweat anymo’… sowwy…” Lillian smiled gently and rubbed my shoulder. “That’s okay, honey. We don’t expect you to be able to remember everything. That’s why we’re here. We both think you’re still a big girl though, right Jimmy?” Jimmy quickly nodded. “That’s right. We know you’ve been through a lot, but maybe… maybe we could help you out with a few things?” I could tell both wanted to ask me something, but I still wasn’t sure what it was. For now, their questions seemed pretty direct, so I just nodded and grinned. “Yeah… dat migh’ be nice. I’m weleawnin’ some dings… iss supah hawd dough…” Lillian smiled and rubbed my shoulder again. “I know, honey. This place is nice but some of the other Bigs you’ve met haven’t been that way themselves, have they?” I shook my head. Images of Kathy, Nancy, Mrs. Carter, Nurse Bee, or even Mrs. Mindy soon flooded my mind. I had gone through a lot to get here, and I knew it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to blame several Bigs by now for my current situation. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Jimmy added. “We’re not those type of people. We just want to help Littles however we can. We can’t always promise that things will always go perfectly, but we will help you… if you want us to.” Before I could respond back, Lillian spoke first. “It’s no pressure, but Jimmy and I have been talking… See, we’re foster parents, but we’ve been looking for someone maybe in a longer-term kind of way, and that’s when we met you…” “Funny thing too… us meeting you that is…” Jimmy recalled. “We had almost literally just dropped off our last foster kid with their new home when we received a flyer in the mail about you and a few other Littles in need of a new home. What are the chances, right?” I immediately thought back to Omega Force or Agent Dawson. Both had promised that I would be safe and taken care of if I could just wait. I hadn’t waited for long, but I wasn’t sure how much I actually believed in coincidences around here anymore. “That’s right, dear,” Lillian continued, pushing her glasses back to the bridge of her nose and gazing back down over at me. “So, Emma… we were kind of wondering… would you like to maybe come home with us?” I should have known that type of question was coming, but when it did, I was still a little unprepared for it. I had been taken care of by technically three Bigs now; Mrs. Tatum, Kathy, and Nancy. While Mrs. Tatum was nice and fair in her own way, both Kathy and Nancy had turned into complete monsters that I had fled away from… both times to my detriment in their own way. I didn’t want to repeat that mistake yet again, but looking back at Jimmy and Lillian, now both intently staring at me and waiting for an answer, I knew I still had to take a second to think about the whole situation this time. It wasn’t easy just saying yes to a couple that I had just met only a week ago. Maybe two weeks would have been fine, but at one… I just felt like I was rushing things again. That being said, I saw my alternatives. If I told them no, I knew I was running the risk of scaring them off permanently. There were certainly other Littles out there, and with them seeming to reject me and then Nancy being an issue, other caregivers could see me as being a problematic Little. That was a one-way ticket to Garden Gate Hospital, so, I felt like I needed to take a leap of faith this time with what I knew about them at this point. Stupid, perhaps, but I just hoped that maybe it would be the right decision for me as well. So, I nodded my head. “Yeth…” Jimmy and Lillian immediately burst from their chairs and hugged me close. It was a little weird at first, but it didn’t take long for my body to get used to theirs and ease right back into their embrace. After a minute even, the whole thing just felt natural, and I was relieved that I felt I had made a good decision. I knew though that only time would tell. So, with the paperwork going through and everyone else approving it, I left with Jimmy and Lillian to go to their house after three days. Many of the staff at the daycare bid me farewell and even though I would still be going there during the day, most of the staff likely understood that I would likely soon transfer to the Oasis room now that my caregiver wasn’t going to try and yo-yo with my mental age again. To top off the touching moment even further, I was beyond thrilled that Mrs. Gillies made it official and allowed me to finally take Patch home with me. Once she had said that, there probably wasn’t five minutes where he wasn’t by my side anymore. Rounding the curb later, Jimmy and Lillian’s neighborhood looked very much like Nancy’s had, but I noticed one giant difference. While Nancy’s had Littles playing around, each was closely monitored and controlled by a nearby Big. Here, though, it seemed that most Littles were very much free to do what they wanted with minimal interference from their Big. It was a small difference perhaps, but it was enough of a difference that I saw it and sighed in relief. Their house was also very similar to Nancy’s, but as we entered my room upstairs, I quickly noticed a major noticeable difference. Here, my room was blank. Concerned, I spun back around to Lillian and James. “Why’s da walls aww bwank?” Lillian smiled and picked up a nearby magazine from my bed, the once piece of furniture actually in the room. “Well, we didn’t want to force anything onto you, Emma. That being said though, we can look at this magazine together and choose what you want for a theme. Could be jungles, fantasy, sports, your choice! Does that sound good to you?” It did, but for now, the white walls were still a little unnerving and were the most pressing thing on my mind. “How lon’ do I hafta sleep wiff whi’ walls?” Jimmy chuckled. “Not long at all, honey. You choose now and it’s early enough that before it gets dark, most of it will be here. So, any idea on what you want?” I nodded and the three of us quickly dove into the design book that Lillian was holding. True to their word, there was just about every type of theme possible, but to no one’s surprise, my heart longed for the fantasy princess theme combo. Then, by that night, I was already pleasantly surrounded by turrets, knights defending against dragons, and even fairies. I was now the princess of my own realm and as I drifted off with Patch cradled snugly in my arms, I felt happy for the first time in a while. And things proceeded much according to the routine that was soon set in the house. As Lillian and Jimmy went about their morning routine, one of them would help me up and get me ready for the day. I was still very much who I was after a few weeks here, but Jimmy and Lillian were patient with me and gave me the support and understanding I needed not to feel like a failure when I still needed diapers or would spill my food occasionally, for example. Then, on the weekends, we started to set another routine of going to one of the larger somewhat nearby parks every Sunday. It was at least three times the size of the ones I had been to before and catered to all sizes and mentalities. Unlike Nancy though with these outings to the park, Jimmy and Lillian accompanied me and tried to participate with me whenever I asked them to. I was nervous at first, but I soon realized that both had their own talents that could make pretty much whatever I did even better. Today was no exception. “Hiyer, Jimmy! Hiyer!” I practically laughed out as he pushed me on the swings, Patch tightly tucked in my left arm beside me. I was currently competing with a Little named Jane and was determined to go higher than her. She was friends with Charley in the Oasis room, and we became fast friends once we were introduced a few weeks ago. “Easy you two,” Lillian chided us from the nearby park bench she was sitting on. She helped me with several other things, but I found out that Jimmy’s hidden muscles were far superior to hers and could push me higher and faster. For swings, nothing else was better. “Imma gonna beat you,” Jane teased as Suzanne, her mommy, pushed her higher still. Not wanting to be outdone, I shouted back without a second’s thought, “No! Hiyer, Jimmy! Hiyer!” I immediately became fearful of a swift punishment from either Jimmy or Lillian for saying no to them. Instead, Jimmy laughed, and I could quickly feel him slowing down. “Maybe later, honey. We don’t want you go launching off to the moon now, do we?” I shook my head, disappointed by the deceleration, but I knew not to argue with either Jimmy or Lillian and was just thankful neither had pushed my use of the word ‘no.’ We had a few rough patches to begin with, but they had mostly smoothed over by now and I was still getting used to their more lenient ways. They had their own rules, but both were also fair, and it didn’t take me long to realize that most of their rules were in place to simply keep me safe. It was a strange notion as compared to Nancy’s more dominance-based rules, but I was getting the hang of it and loving the relatively more freedom I had now. Soon, satisfied with her win, Jane hopped off and waved goodbye to us to then go eat lunch. It wasn’t long before Lillian was calling Jimmy and I over for lunch as well. I was a little disappointed over having to stop, but Jimmy’s small little hug after reassured me that it wouldn’t be the last time he ever pushed me on the swings. “Alright you two, come on. It’s lunchtime and no one wants an empty tummy now, do we?” Jimmy and I both shook our heads adamantly, and as he hoisted me up to the picnic table that Lillian had snagged, she started piling out the various baggies and containers that held our lunch. “Okay, we’ve got sandwiches, some fruit, a few veggie sticks, and some juices to wash it all down. That sound good to you two?” It was simple, but it also showed me something I had started to notice with both Jimmy and Lillian. Any chance they had to treat me like an equal or at least older than a baby, they took it. So, Jimmy and I both nodded our heads in delight. All prepared, Lillian made up my plate and set it down in front of me. I knew to wait until both of their plates had also been served as well, and again, it just further reinforced the equality of my new dynamic here with them. Unlike now, Nancy had always seemed to place herself above me, even before her change in personality. With Jimmy and Lillian though, help was never forced, but was only offered. It was a minor difference in some ways to me, but a massive one in all the important ways as well. Hungry, I dove right into my sandwich. It had been cut into four parts and the condiments, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and meat all blended perfectly during the late fall day. I could tell winter was fast approaching and I wondered if our routine would change at all with the colder days. “Enjoying your lunch, Emma?” Lillian soon asked, pausing her own eating. I happily nodded, my mouth all full of food. As I swallowed and moved on, I could see that Jimmy often wanted to help me out with his tiny little hand gestures, particularly when I got to the fruit portion of the meal, but he refrained and just smiled whenever I was successful at actually getting the food in my mouth, quickly setting his hands back down. For a Little who had once struggled to hold even a bottle in their hands, I felt I was practically doing the impossible now. Still, even if Jimmy hadn’t helped me, I did appreciate that he was at least at the ready to help me if I ever needed it. Once lunch was over, Lillian then laid out a picnic blanket and we all laid down to digest our food. Seeing the time was getting late and that my movements had begun to slow, Lillian was prepared and pulled out a book, James and the Ogre. Though I only partially remembered it from before my regression, I did remember it being one of my favorites. Apparently, to further help my transition into their house, Lillian had asked all the daycare staff about what I was like with them. A love of reading came to the minds of most and Lillian had purchased several of my favorites. After letting me choose the design for my room, it was the next best sign that I had chosen my new caregivers well. We all got comfy and gathered around the open book as I cuddled with Patch right next to me. Just before we started though, Lillian temporarily closed the book and looked down at me. “I know you’ve been having some trouble with some of your words lately, but do you want to maybe try reading this one?” I had never been asked that question before and it took me fully by surprise. I had to will every ounce of inner strength I had to not just have a breakdown on the spot. I still couldn’t remember much about my life back on Earth, but what I could, I knew that reading was one of my favorite things. Ever since Nancy though, it had taken on a different and more sinister meaning. Book topics had changed to stories where the moral of the book was that Littles needed to be taken of by Bigs. Without fail, I could almost always guarantee that regardless of genre, the main character would end up in the care of a Big by the end. Space wars, time travel, fantastical other worlds, and even tales of lost treasure all ended with the main character ending up the exact same way. So, to be even asked if I wanted to read today was almost beyond my comprehension. “I… I…” I took a breath in and tried to calm myself. I didn’t want to ruin the moment and have Lillian think that I was incapable of reading. I felt it would have slammed those doors shut forever, and I couldn’t let that happen. So, I exhaled and looked at her right in the eyes. “Yeth… I wan’ ta twy aleast…” Lillian only smiled and reopened the book. “Perfect. Whenever you’re ready, sweetie.” I stared at the relatively enormous amount of text in front of me. It was extremely nerve wracking and I wondered if I could even do it or not anymore, but I just breathed deeply and began. “Lon’ ago an’ in a lan’ faw fwom anywhew you evuh dweamed of, dere lived a boy cawed Jack…” I will fully admit, there were several points where I nearly tripped over the words from almost not understanding them anymore. It was frustrating, but Jimmy and Lillian were both patient and helped me through any of them. I felt a tiny bit of shame at each point, but a reassuring smile from either and a smidge of praise in some form always pushed me through. That being said, I was still a Little and not even halfway into the first chapter, I began to doze off. Rather than get frustrated, Jimmy and Lillian only smiled at each other and helped me to my feet and then started to clean up our little site. Moments later, I was in the car, buckled safely into my car seat with Patch nestled gently in my arms. I was out cold before the engine even turned on. I came to later just as Jimmy was pulling into the driveway. Lillian quickly saw that I was awake. “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Have a nice nap?” Yawning, but smiling over my pleasant rest, I nodded my head and waited to be fetched. I used to try and figure out the buckles with the car seat, but I knew my hands just weren’t nimble or strong enough anymore to do something like that. It was a small acceptance of my fate, but with Jimmy or Lillian, I never felt that the seat was a punishment. Instead, it just felt like something to keep me safe and elevated during our car rides together. Lillian soon got out of the car and came over to me. She made quick work of the buckles, but her eyes quickly shot down to my crotch. “Okay, sweetie. Just need to check you really quick, okay?” I nodded and let her prod around my diaper. It was a little awkward at first when they started helping with my diaper issue, but both Jimmy and Lillian had been gentle and reassuring in any of their motions. I never felt in danger with either of them, and we all knew that for now at least, diaper checks and changes were just part of my personal package deal. “Oh, would you look at that. Best get you changed, sweetie. No need for a leaky diaper, huh?” I passively nodded and let Lillian unbuckle me the rest of the way before being gathered up and taken inside. The house always smelled fresh or even sweet or savory when either of them cooked. It was pleasantly decorated, but only to the point of taste, rather than looking like a museum. ‘Homey’ was about the best word I could use to describe their aesthetic, and the part of me that had been through everything since coming here, it was the best word I could hope for in my new home. Going up the stairs, Lillian soon had me in my nursery and laid me on the changing table. I gazed over my pristine pink and purple nursery and still marveled over how the fairies around my ceiling seemed to almost emit a magic of sorts. Still, it wasn’t even close to what Patch did for me, and I only hugged him closer as Lillian began to change my sopping wet diaper. Soon taped into a fresh You-Ni-Corn diaper, Lillian helped me back up and paused for a moment. Fearing the worst, I gripped tightly onto Patch. Biting her lip, Lillian began slowly. “You know… Jimmy and I were talking the other day… we want to help you out as much as we can. I’m not sure if it’s even possible, but…” She then trailed off and looked toward my closet before holding up a finger to me. “Hold on. Just one sec.” She quickly went off and started to retrieve something from my closet. My heart raced and I could feel myself even starting to sweat and breathe deeply from how nervous I was. I used to love surprises, but after Nancy… I felt in this dimension that any surprise was always followed by some awful or frightening event. I knew I had to start getting myself used to the notion that I was with new Bigs now, but that fear from my time with Nancy persisted. Regardless, Lillian came back over with a large purple package nestled in her arms. “Do you know what these are?” I squinted and tried to make out what the package was. It seemed oddly familiar, but I just could quite place it. Oddly, a bunch of the words just looked like a bunch of squiggles to me. “Aw dey fo’ me?” I asked, not really sure what else to say and attempting to cover up the fact that I couldn’t read what they were. Nancy grinned and nodded. “Yes, you silly goose. Here.” She then moved closer and held up the name printed on the front so that I could see it plainly. Unfortunately, the words still just seemed to jumble together. “I can’t… I can’t wead ih…” I finally said feeling utterly stupid and defeated. “I’m sowwy…” Lillian's face quickly saddened, and she started to rub my back for a moment. “There, there. It’s okay. It’s not a test, Emma. I think Nancy might have messed with your comprehension of certain words, but I’m not sure. These though,” she said, holding the package back up, “are pull-ons or pull-ups. Whatever you want to call them, but Jimmy and I just want to let you know that we’re willing to give them a try if you are.” I stared back at the package in disbelief. It almost seemed like a long-forgotten treasure or gold at the end of the rainbow. I didn’t think this day would ever get here, but I was also faced with a sobering reality. Lillian had just changed my diaper, which I also had no knowledge of even wetting in the first place. So, I said about the only thing I could. “I wan’ to, buh… I don’ know if I can…” Lillian placed the package down and rubbed my back again. “That’s okay, Emma. No rush, but we just wanted to let you know that the option is available to you if you ever want it. Maybe one day, right?” I smiled and nodded before giving her a giant hug. It seemed like such a small thing, but even their offering of that option was more of a sign to me that I had chosen my new caregivers right. No pressure or agenda, but just a mere option if I wanted to. My decision. It felt so strange to think about, but as Lillian carried me back downstairs before dinner, I just luxuriated in the feeling. The feeling, however, soon went away as I then saw Jimmy staring down at a letter in his hands with a pale look on his face. “Hun?” Lillian asked worriedly. “What is it? Bad news?” Jimmy sighed and held up the letter. “I don’t really know. Could be either I guess, but… it’s Nancy… it says she’s getting sentenced next week after her trial date.” My stomach dropped over hearing that name out loud again. Sure, her name played over and over again in my head dozens of times every day, but to hear it out loud… I felt a fearful chill creep up my back. Still holding me, Lillian could feel something was wrong and rubbed my back. “It’s okay, Emma. No need to worry. We’ll protect you no matter what.” Jimmy nodded in agreement but there was still a part of me that was tremendously nervous. See, Nancy had lost all rights to me forever and always. That court date had been straightforward and was considered a no-brainer to even the most pro-Big judge out there. Problem was though, this next and final trial and sentencing date… all that was still very much up in the air. In Virgan, many of the courts often seemed to side with Bigs on most issues like these where criminal intent was involved with the care of a Little. What most of Earth could consider abuse, the wrong judge around here could just consider as ‘strict care.’ So, while Nancy would never take custody of me again, her mere presence causing issues for me or any reprisals to me wasn’t out of the question still. “Don’t worry, Emma,” Jimmy reassured me, setting down the letter. “No matter what happens, we’ll watch out for you and Nancy won’t ever hurt you again.” I nodded and appreciated his confidence, but I still saw the letter. My nerves weren’t so bad with both my new caregivers’ reassurances, but the letter remained a pivotal point of contention. It existed still, so the trial and Nancy’s possible release still loomed in my mind. At one point in my life, I might have just brushed those feelings aside, but like so much else I had lost, my resolve and courage seemed to have vanished as well. For now, though, all I could do was cling tighter to Lillian and Patch. Against Nancy, I wasn’t sure how they would match up, but for the moment, they gave me comfort, and that was something.

Thank you all for the comments! I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. *** Part 2 As Grace stared at Jessica, angry and confused, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. “What are you doing?” she mumbled. “What’s going…” But Jessica’s presence suddenly seemed magnified tenfold. It was as if Grace was looking up at someone much bigger than her, even though she and Jessica were the same height. There was a strange tingling in her brain, a rush of sudden vertigo. She imagined she might fall over, right onto her bottom. She giggled. That would be silly! She shook her head vigorously from side to side, trying to clear it. “Not your… Not your big day,” said Grace, frowning. “I’m the bride.” Jessica let out another one of her tinkling laughs. “Silly baby, you’re not the bride! Rob can’t get married to a silly little girl like you. This is my wedding, but I’m being very generous and letting you be the flower girl. Aren’t you lucky?” Grace felt her head nodding enthusiastically. “Fank you!” she heard herself lisp. What the hell was happening?! The flower girl? Her head was clearing, but it felt as though she couldn’t control herself, like she was nothing but a passenger in her own body! “Look what I got for you to wear, sweetie,” said Jessica, and she held up the dress she’d been carrying. It was silly, frilly, and very small. The sleeves were puffy, the short skirt looked more like a tutu than anything else, and it had a large bow on the back. Grace felt sick at the sight of it. No self-respecting woman would ever wear something so childish, something clearly meant for the youngest of children. But her body seemed to think differently. She heard herself gasp with excitement, and she thrust out her arms and made grabby hands at the ridiculous thing. “Awww!” Olivia and Caroline cooed. What was going on?! What was happening to her?! Her head was fully clear now, but Grace’s body still was completely out of her control. Why were Olivia and Caroline acting like nothing was wrong?! “Alright, Gracie,” Jessica laughed. “Let’s get you changed. Olivia, Caroline, could you help her out of my dress?” The two women hurried forwards and got to work. Grace could only stand there obediently, smiling vapidly and crying on the inside while her bridesmaids worked together to strip off various pieces of her attire and lift the beautiful dress back up over her head, leaving her in nothing but her underwear – and she didn’t get to keep those for long either. “I can’t believe we ever thought you were an adult,” Olivia said, unclasping Grace’s bra and letting her large breasts spill out. She tittered at the sight of Grace’s tits wobbling on her chest. “Isn’t it funny how such a silly little girl has such big boobies? These massive knockers must have been how you tricked Rob into thinking you were a grown-up.” To Grace’s horror, she started giggling and jumping up and down on the spot, making her bare boobs jiggle about madly. Everyone laughed at her, and Olivia said, “I thought so! You’re just a naughty little brat, aren’t you sweetie? Just like Jessica said. I’m so glad you’ve come to your senses, Gracie. Jessica is clearly the one who’s meant to marry Rob, not you.” Olivia would never say those kind of things to her! Grace was sure of that. Jessica must have done something to her, and Caroline as well! Once Grace was standing in nothing but her undies, Olivia went over to Jessica with her wedding dress and started to help her change into it. Meanwhile, Caroline took the flower girl dress and held it up again for Grace to see. “You’re going to look just like a princess, Gracie!” she said brightly. Just like before, Grace couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror in front of her. But this time, her transformation was very different. Caroline slipped the tiny little flower girl dress over Grace’s head and started making adjustments to it, brushing down the skirts and squeezing Grace’s tits into the bodice. Grace winced. It was so tight across the chest that it was painful. Her breasts bulged out obscenely through the fabric, and the puffy, frilly, tutu-like skirt barely reached past her bottom. “There we go!” Caroline said. “Don’t you look pretty?” Grace looked at herself in the mirror. She wanted to rip the ridiculous dress off her body and scream at everyone until someone told her what the fuck was going on. She wanted to smack Jessica hard across the face and throw her out of the venue. Instead she smiled stupidly. “Uh-hu!” “Don’t forget to do her hair,” Jessica smirked, and Caroline nodded. Grace could only stand there with a dumb grin on her face while her bridesmaid tied her sleek blonde hair into ridiculous pigtails sticking out from either side of her head. There was a knock on the door and Annie, her third bridesmaid, finally came back into the room. “Hi girls!” she said. Grace prayed that maybe, this time, someone was going to come to her rescue. But then she saw that Annie was carrying something. Something large and white and rectangular. When she realised what it was, Grace felt as though her heart had dropped into her stomach. Even the stupid little girl in charge of her body didn’t like it. “Don’t need dat!” she heard herself whine as Annie came towards her, unfolding the crinkly, adult-sized disposable diaper as she went. “Oh yes you do!” said Jessica loudly, and Grace looked over at her, her bottom lip trembling. “Toilets are a thing of the past for you, Gracie,” she said, a malicious look in her eyes. “Stupid little girls like you go potty in their pants, and that means you need a nappy on.” Annie lifted up Grace’s flower girl dress, slipped a finger into the waistband of her underwear, and started sliding them down. Grace looked on in horror, a stupid little pout still on her face, as her lacy white lingerie, a sexy surprise for Rob on their wedding night, was tugged down her legs. No, she thought, watching as Annie tossed them aside, come back! But Annie was already slipping the bulky diaper between Grace’s legs, holding it up while she taped it into place. Grace could feel the soft, thirsty padding pressing against her pussy, ready to soak up all the pee-pee accidents she might have. This couldn’t be happening to her! “There we go!” Annie cooed. “This suits you much better than that little lacy number. Your undies need to be designed in terms of how many potty accidents they can hold, not sex appeal.” Once Grace’s nappy was on, Caroline stepped forwards again and, in case there was any doubt about Grace’s new position, placed a flower crown on top of her head. “There’s just one more thing she needs,” Jessica said, walking over to her old clothes and fishing in the pockets. “Here we go!” She came back over and shoved a bright pink pacifier into Grace’s mouth, where it immediately started bobbing between her lips. “Perfect,” Jessica purred, drinking in Grace’s appearance like she couldn’t get enough of it. “We’ll be ready to go very soon.” While her bridesmaids made the finishing touches to Jessica’s outfit, Grace toddled around impatiently, her thick diaper rustling noisily between her legs. Then, without warning, she felt a sudden pressure in her bladder. She clutched her hands to her crotch, but the urge to go had become uncontrollable almost the moment it had appeared. Grace felt pee rushing into her pants, drenching the thick padding between her legs. The front of her Pampers discoloured, sagging until the yellow-tinged padding peaked out below the hem of her dress. “Uh-oh,” she said softly, wrinkling her nose as the sharp smell of piss reached it. Inside her head, Grace was shrieking in horror. She wanted to throw up. She’d never been so disgusted in her life! It was awful, the feeling of her pee sloshing around in her pants, the sopping wet padding pressed against her nether regions. Someone had to save her! They had to! At last, Jessica was done. She smirked down at Grace in her ridiculous little flower girl dress, dummy in her mouth, her hair in ludicrous pigtails. “I think someone had better check the baby’s nappy,” she said. Caroline stepped forward, lifted up Grace’s dress, and probed the front of her diaper. “She’s done a wee-wee,” Caroline announced. “Should I change her?” “Is she about to leak?” asked Jessica. “No, I think it can take a bit more,” Caroline replied, as Grace fidgeted in place like an impatient little girl, praying desperately that her bridesmaids would come to their senses, that someone would rescue her. “Leave her for now,” Jessica instructed, a note of delight just detectable in her voice. “We don’t want to waste nappies.” “You’re in charge,” said Caroline, and she actually did a little curtsey. “That’s right,” said Jessica, her smile widening. “I am. It’s my big day, after all.”

Chapter 6 The morning of the photo shoot, Lucy and her parents arrived at a modern photo studio, its walls adorned with stunning photographs and its spaces bustling with creative energy. Yet, within this hive of artistic activity, there was a quiet corner reserved for them, a dedicated space where Lucy would transform into the face of Huggies for the day. In the privacy of the dressing room, and lay down on a sofa so her mom could remove her clothes and diaper her. As Anne was fastening the diaper’s tapes at her hips, she explained that the set costumer might want to adjust it to make sure everything was perfect for the photos. Lucy, understanding but visibly nervous, nodded, her excitement for the shoot mingling with a tinge of embarrassment at the thought of someone else adjusting her diaper. As the set costumer greeted them, Lucy could feel her nerves fluttering. She was directed to lay back down on the couch, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her ribcage. The costumer, an expert in his craft, worked with a gentle efficiency, adjusting the diaper to ensure it fit perfectly and looked impeccable on camera. His hands moved with practiced ease, but to Lucy, each adjustment felt like an eternity, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and the surreal nature of the moment. Anne and Peter stood by, offering smiles and nods of encouragement. Seeing Lucy's discomfort, they reminded her softly, "This is all part of the job, sweetheart. Just like how actors wear costumes, for this shoot, the diaper is your costume. You're doing great, and remember, this is what models and actresses experience." Lucy took a deep breath, her parents' words grounding her. She realized that this, too, was a role she was playing, another character in her growing repertoire. The initial embarrassment began to fade, replaced by a budding sense of professionalism. She was here to do a job, to bring her unique charm and personality to the Huggies brand, and that realization lent her a newfound strength. As the costumer finished his adjustments, stepping back to admire their work with satisfied nods, Lucy sat up, a shy smile blooming on her face. She was ready. Ready to step in front of the camera, ready to embrace the role she had been given, and ready to shine as the unique and talented individual she was. Stepping out of the dressing room, Lucy, clad only in her perfectly fitted diaper, entered the brightly lit studio, her eyes scanning the array of colorful toddler toys spread around her. The environment was designed to mimic a playful, inviting space, complete with a small table set up with engaging activities. The sight sparked a surge of excitement within her, the nervousness of preparation melting away as she was drawn into the imaginative playground before her. Encouraged by the photographer and her parents' reassuring smiles, Lucy began to explore the toys, her movements natural and filled with the genuine curiosity of a child at play. She picked up a brightly colored block, examined a plush teddy bear, and interacted with a toy cash register, each action captured by the camera's lens. The soft clicks of the shutter blended with the ambient sounds of the studio, creating a melody of creativity and spontaneity. As Lucy immersed herself in the world of play, the photographer observed her interactions, seeking the perfect shots that encapsulated the essence of the Huggies brand—joy, innocence, and the uninhibited spirit of childhood. Lucy's ease and authenticity in front of the camera made every photo glow with life, her presence transforming the studio into a scene of pure, heartfelt play. After about ten minutes, the photographer, looking for an additional element to enhance the visuals, suggested introducing a pacifier into the shoot. The idea was met with a brief moment of hesitation from Lucy; the use of a pacifier wasn't something she was accustomed to, a reminder of the age they were aiming to portray. Yet, with a glance towards her parents and seeing their nods of encouragement, Lucy agreed to try. The addition of the pacifier added a new dimension to the photos, creating a blend of innocence and playfulness that the photographer hoped would resonate with viewers. Lucy, adapting to the request with the professionalism she had shown throughout the shoot, managed to incorporate the pacifier naturally into her interactions with the toys, her expressions ranging from thoughtful curiosity to joyful play. The shoot continued, each frame capturing a moment of childhood through the lens of Lucy's experience. For Lucy and her parents, the day was another step in a journey that celebrated Lucy's unique qualities, her ability to adapt and embrace new roles with enthusiasm and grace. The photoshoot, with its mixture of play and posed moments, was not just about creating advertising content but about capturing the beauty of childhood in its many forms, a celebration that Lucy was proud to be part of. As the photoshoot progressed, amidst the laughter and the shutter clicks, Lucy felt the familiar urge to pee. She paused, a slight unease crossing her face as she whispered to her parents about her need. Anne and Peter, understanding the delicacy of the situation, leaned in to reassure her, ready to guide her through this unexpected moment. Before they could respond, the photographer, overhearing the conversation, chimed in with unexpected enthusiasm. "That's actually great for us," he said, his tone both professional and encouraging. "It could add a genuine aspect to the photos. We can capture some shots with a wet diaper. It's all part of the reality we're trying to portray." Lucy's initial reluctance was palpable. The thought of intentionally wetting the diaper in front of the camera, under the bright lights of the studio, was far from comforting. She glanced at her parents, seeking reassurance in their familiar faces. Anne and Peter nodded gently, their expressions a mix of surprise and support, conveying their trust in the photographer's vision and reminding Lucy of the role she was there to play. With a deep breath, Lucy agreed, her decision fueled by the encouragement of her parents and the professionalism with which the photographer approached the situation. It was a moment that transcended the personal, transforming into an opportunity to embrace the authenticity of the experience they were capturing. As Lucy let go, allowing the diaper to fulfill its function, the camera captured the moment with a respectful distance, focusing on her expressions and the natural continuation of her play. The photographer and his team worked with a renewed focus, ensuring that the shots were handled with sensitivity and care, honoring Lucy's bravery in embracing this aspect of the shoot. The photographer, seizing the opportunity for another spontaneous idea, gathered Lucy, still in her wet diaper, and her parents for a brief discussion. "As we capture the essence of what makes these products so essential for families, I've been thinking about how to convey authenticity and the real moments parents and children experience," the photographer began, his tone both earnest and thoughtful. He paused, gauging the reactions of Lucy and her parents to his next words. "I believe showing a diaper change could resonate with many parents out there. It's a universal moment, filled with care and tenderness," he continued, carefully watching Lucy for any sign of discomfort. "Of course, we'll handle it with the utmost respect and discretion, focusing on the narrative of care and comfort rather than the act itself. We can shoot from a distance, and from the side." Anne and Peter exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. They were mindful of Lucy's comfort and the implications of such a suggestion. It was important to them that Lucy felt safe and respected throughout the process. The photographer, sensing their hesitation, added, "Your comfort is our priority. You’ll be right there changing Lucy. We want this to be a positive experience for Lucy, one where she feels empowered and part of the storytelling. If at any point you feel unsure, we can pause or reconsider." Lucy, listening intently, felt a mix of emotions. There was the initial surge of apprehension at being so exposed, even in a controlled and professional environment. Yet, there was also curiosity about being part of something that sought to capture a genuine aspect of childhood. Her parents had always taught her the value of open communication and trust, and this moment felt like a test of those principles. After a moment of thoughtful silence, Anne spoke up. "Let's discuss this as a family for a moment," she suggested, her voice steady and calm. The photographer nodded, stepping back to give them space. Huddled together, Lucy and her parents discussed the proposal. They weighed the intention behind the suggestion, the professionalism of the photographer, and most importantly, Lucy's feelings and comfort level. Lucy, feeling supported and heard, expressed a cautious willingness to be part of the narrative the photographer wanted to convey, reassured by her parents' assurance that they would be right there with her, ensuring her dignity and comfort were preserved. With a decision reached, they turned back to the photographer, ready to proceed with a shared understanding of the boundaries and expectations. "We're willing to try," Peter said, "as long as Lucy's comfort is the top priority." The photographer smiled, a genuine expression of gratitude and respect. "Absolutely," he assured them. And so, they moved forward, stepping into the light, the cameras, and a moment of authentic storytelling, grounded in trust, respect, and the shared vision of capturing the beauty of everyday care. Lying on the soft changing pad, Lucy found the bright studio lights above her a little too harsh, a stark contrast to the soft warmth of the dressing room where her mom had helped her get ready. Her mom’s touch was loving, but in this more public setting she felt vulnerable and exposed. The photographer had assured them everything would be done tastefully, focusing shots from a distance and from the side to emphasize the product rather than Lucy herself. Despite the professionalism that permeated the studio, Lucy felt a flutter of embarrassment amid her excitement. Her dad stood nearby, his expression a complex tapestry of pride and concern. He and Anne were ever vigilant, prepared to intervene at the slightest sign of discomfort. They had gently explained to Lucy that this was part of being a model and actress. "It's like playing a role," her dad had reassured her, his smile warm and encouraging. Anne's eyes, filled with empathy, silently conveyed that Lucy could ask to stop at any time. When it was time to change Lucy's diaper, Anne herself took over the task, ensuring that her daughter felt as comfortable as possible. Lucy lay on the soft changing pad, trying to appear relaxed as Anne unfolded the fresh diaper with practiced hands. This familiar routine, performed by her mom, helped alleviate some of Lucy’s nervousness. Once Lucy signaled her readiness, the photographer began capturing the scene. The camera clicked away, not just documenting the act of a diaper change but telling a part of their story. As the shoot continued, the atmosphere remained supportive. The photographer, sensing Lucy's initial hesitance, took a moment to offer words of encouragement. "Lucy, you're doing wonderfully," he said, his tone sincere. "Just like any actor wearing a costume, this is part of telling a story. We're all here to make sure you feel comfortable and respected. I know wearing a diaper at six might feel a bit odd, but you're helping us tell a very important story." One of the assistants, while handing Lucy a colorful toy, chimed in, "You're the star of the day, Lucy! Let's see how many funny faces you can make with Mr. Dinosaur here." Lucy couldn't help but giggle, the tension easing as she began to play along, making exaggeratedly silly faces and poses, each click of the camera capturing the lightness of the moment. "Now, how about a superhero pose? Can you show us how Super Lucy saves the day?" the photographer suggested, his voice full of enthusiasm. As the shoot neared its end, the photographer had another idea. "How about we get Mom and Dad in here for a few shots? Lucy, you've been amazing, and I think having your superheroes by your side would make these pictures even more special." Lucy's eyes lit up at the idea, and soon, Anne and Peter were joining her on the set, their presence bringing a new wave of laughter and joy to the room. The family shared tender moments, their interactions genuine and filled with love, a beautiful culmination of the day's journey. Back in the dressing room, Lucy, still in her diaper, looked thoughtfully at her reflection in the mirror. Anne, observing her daughter's contemplative gaze, recalled their previous experience with the traffic. "Lucy, considering the drive back and how practical the diaper turned out to be last time, would you like to keep it on for the ride home?" Lucy considered her mother's suggestion, the memories of their previous adventure making her smile. "Okay, Mom," she agreed, understanding the practicality and feeling a sense of comfort in her mother's thoughtful suggestion.

Ugh, A month later and the first draft of chapter 6 is done, finally! Should have it polished and edited in the next few days for posting. Thanks for all the patience, I know its been too long since I updated this story.

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!

My husband and I happened to be in Sturgis during the rally several years ago (the year of the last eclipse, actually). It was certainly pretty amazing. About the story: I still stand where I have been before. Sarah (the budding sadist) has to go. Actually, they all should just leave Ian alone so he can be with the one he really loves, and the only one without an agenda of her own, Priscilla. Given Vickie's newfound masochism, I think that she, Sarah, and Rita would make a perfect little family unit...as long as they don't follow through with their plan to force Ian to break into "Princess Pottypants" (a monicker that has always felt utterly wrong in a therapeutic setting). If they do that, absolutely none of them deserves to have anything to do with him and they should all lose their jobs. Sorry: I see a man who desperately needs to love and be loved and also needs someone to care for him, and I don't like these women—especially Sarah—having agendas that only help them. Just my two cents.

When one gets the urge to purge, just pack it away. Save the expense of rebuying!

Thanks BabySofia! Here's more! 😀 Chapter 12 : Little Space is Good Space! Welcome back, my JJ Little Bestie Fam. At this point, are you now beginning to understand how all of these various events have each served a key role in the JJ Brand that you know and love today? It all connects together like a little jigsaw puzzle. Getting drunk on my first night in Philadelphia which resulted in a traumatic injury to my pelvis that I have no memory of. All I remembered that night was crying in my room, covered in both pee and vomit, having no idea how that even happened in the first place. All I know is that I was eating at one of Philadelphia’s fanciest restaurants with my sister and boyfriend and then I blacked out. And because of that, I was completely oblivious to an injury that caused permanent damage to my nerves connecting my spinal cord to my bladder. And just to let you know, my JJ Little Besties, it is currently 2028 at the time of my typing this and I have still not recovered or have shown any improvement from my untimely incontinence. I have gotten used to it at this point, but even with it being nearly three months since the incident happened, past Jill was still struggling with the shocking reality of having virtually no bladder control and having to wear diapers for the rest of her life. The stress that came with having to manage all of the diaper changes, practicing proper hygiene with each change, and hiding virtually every physical sign of wearing a diaper while in public from every nonconsenting adult that have no business to know about my bladder control issues. And while the cause of my incontinence was a very important puzzle piece, every other puzzle piece carries equal importance to creating the full picture of my journey from unfortunate college graduate to diapered celebrity influencer. The continual nightly bed wettings leading to my need to wear diapers to bed every night. The fortunate meeting of my boyfriend due to a blind date secretly planned by my sister and her boyfriend (thanks sis!). This piece was also important as my boyfriend’s love of video games and streaming led to my gradual interest in video games and his influence in wanting me to start my own streaming channel on Twitch. My gradual tolerance of wearing diapers nightly. My final farewell to Cleveland and the embarrassing accident on the airplane that ensued. My worsening incontinence discovered from my unfortunate “fireworks” during the Fourth of July. My uneventful First Stream on Twitch. My first fun Twins Days Festival with my sis and how I watched my self gradually lose what was left of my continence over the course of just one weekend. My best and worst day coming from a job offer that I was forced to refuse due to a viral TikTok called “Diaper Girl” going viral. And finally, my painful discovery of my diapered reality after discovering the truth about the cause of my incontinence. And believe it or not, my JJ Besties, this puzzle is not finished. There are more pieces to add to it. This next one is how I came to slowly accept my incontinence by learning about the ABDL lifestyle and engaging in little space through regression therapy. This is going to be a good one, my JJ Littles so grab your pacie and your blankie and let’s get started. Between my appointment with Dr. Davis and Dr. Saunders, I completely lost count of how many restaurants my sister took me to. During the week, she simply invited me to have lunch with her on a dime. On the weekends (and some Saturdays when I wasn’t on a date with Gary), she took me to a nice restaurant for dinner. I knew exactly what she was trying to do. She was using comfort food as a way of trying to make me feel better as I really felt worried and depressed about the hopeless state of my bladder. The Pink Trests were certainly doing their job, but I was getting tired of changing my diapers all the time. My twin sister’s food therapy just wasn’t working. But I didn’t want her to think that I was showing no appreciation for what she was doing so I faked my very best smile that I could. If my sister could see a smile on my face, it was just enough for her to get off my back about trying to butter me up concerning the diapered elephant in the room that I just didn’t want to talk about. After all, I was inflicted with a serious condition of the bladder that I didn’t deserve. Why was I of all people suddenly hit with such bad luck from a traumatic injury leading to my loss of bladder control? All I wanted was to use the toilet normally like I used to. I wanted to wear my Victoria’s Secret panties again and not experience any embarrassing accident in my pants while wearing them. But with all the days that have passed since my appointment with Dr. Saunders, I tried to look at things the way that she did. I tried to follow the advice of Trisha Leeson and “own” my incontinence. I even tried to take the suggestions that Glytter told me to heart. After all, Glytter’s incontinence has been with her for at least 20 or more years at this point. Despite all of these suggestions that have been provided for me to use as coping mechanisms to live with my daily incontinence, nothing was working. And with my Friday appointment with Dr. Stillman on September 29th, I was wondering if her advice was going to be just as ineffective. Since the very day that I broke the news to my sister about rejecting the job offer at CBS Philadelphia, she has not been leaving me alone about finding a job that can provide a “livable wage”. Why couldn’t she just listen to me about Twitch, and how my streaming channel was beginning to grow out of control with more and more subscribers and generous bit donations every stream day? But Twitch was totally out of the question. Jen didn’t want to so much as hear the word mentioned in a sentence. Since I showed her the TikTok video, all she gets is angry whenever I mention anything regarding Twitch. Just seriously. I am TIRED of her asking me to get a job when I am doing my Twitch job every freaking day during the week! And in addition to Twitch, my JillianPlays YouTube channel was starting to pick up. During the morning of my appointment with Dr. Stillman, my YouTube channel had 191,473 subscribers. And my JJ Little Besties, if you are curious about Diaper Girl, it had 256 million views and 27 million likes the Friday that I saw Dr. Stillman. A lot of different countries all over the world had their own unique version of “Diaper Girl” at this point. There was even an anime version, with cute anime girls all doing the “Diaper Girl dance” in jogging pants and diapers that were barely peeking out. Salt-N-Pepa was making record album sales all because of “Diaper Girl”. At this point, I have gotten over the frustration and anger that I initially had when I saw “Diaper Girl” for the first time. For me, it was generating an unparalleled level of publicity to my Twitch Channel and my Discord has grown into one of the most active Discords in the history of the platform. All of a sudden, a loud voice broke me out of my reverie. “Jillian Jenners?” A woman called. I turned my back to see a woman in her mid-thirties standing next to me. She had long locks of black hair that went down to her shoulders with a stylish prescription of bifocals. She wore a teal blouse with a navy-blue skirt. She stood a few inches taller than me. I gave her a nervous glance. “Hi?” “Jillian or Jill?” the woman asked in a warm and friendly voice. “Jill,” I said plainly. The woman offered me her hand and I shook it. “Jill it is, then. I am Dr. Bridget Stillman, and it is time for your session. Follow me to my office and we can begin.” I nervously followed my therapist to her office, as a series of questions began to flood my mind. What does this therapist want to know about me? Why did I even ask for one in the first place? Is she good at keeping secrets? Each question that I tried to answer in my mind created ten additional questions. By the time that I could even think of any additional questions, I was gently tapped on my hand by my therapist. “Jill? Jill?” I glanced at Dr. Stillman, giving her my full attention. “Yes?” The doctor adjusted her glasses and smiled. “I see that you are very deep in thought. You almost look a little anxious. There is no need to worry, Jill. Everything that is discussed here is completely confidential. Now, please take a seat.” She pointed down to a soft tan couch and I sat down. I glanced around her office and noticed a few bookshelves by her desk filled with various books pertaining to psychology and therapy. Different fidget toys were laying all over her desk, along with a few board games that I noticed that were stacked on the top shelf of one of her bookshelves. I even saw…No. Was it? Yes! A Nintendo Switch! I also noticed a few cabinets and drawers along with a few soft blankets and plush animals on the floor. When Dr. Stillman noticed my eyes moving all over the room, she nodded. “Yes Jill. There are a variety of different things that I do with my patients to help with their treatment. Now please answer this for me before we get started. Are you comfortable with me sitting beside you?” I nodded. “Go on ahead.” My therapist sat beside me and gave me a focused stare, as if she wanted me to give her eye contact. “Good. Now we are not going to focus so much on your treatment today. What I would like to do is get to know Jillian Jenners. To make you feel more comfortable with sharing, I will share with you a little bit about myself. You already know my name. Bridget Stillman. I was born an only child in Pittsburgh. This bothered me as I never had any siblings of my own. But I had a lot of cousins. Then nieces and nephews. I grew up with anxiety and needed treatment from a child psychologist. That’s a little bit about me. What can you tell me about yourself, Jill?” I nervously fidgeted, pressing my fingers back and forth over the fabric of my orange red skirt. I began with the most obvious facts about myself. That I had an identical twin sister named Jennifer and how we both grew up in Jasper, a small city in Indiana. How both I and Jen had totally different interests growing up. How I always loved watching the evening news growing up as a kid. How my love for watching the anchor made me want to be a news anchor and to go to school to become one. How I got my Bachelor of Science Degree in Communication. How I was so broke that my sister had to bail me out and have me move in with her. All while I shared this information, Dr. Stillman never once interrupted me. She just kept letting me speak until I had nothing left to say. After I finished telling her about being taken in by my sister, I became silent. What else was left to tell her, besides the most embarrassing things that I wasn’t at all comfortable with revealing? I sighed, as I wasn’t about to give her any other details concerning my private life. Dr. Stillman glanced down at her notebook, which now had a copious amount of notes from all of the information that I provided her with. “Very interesting, Jill.” She told me. “Now, tell me. Were you able to find any work yet? You look a little uncomfortable. Look at me, Jill. I am a licensed therapist and because of HIPAA law, I cannot disclose information from any of my other patients to you. What this means is that I will never share this information to any other patient. If I violate this, I will lose my job. Now Jill, can you tell me what you are uncomfortable with sharing? Maybe you would like to play a round of Mario Kart 8 with me on the Nintendo Switch?” Those two words triggered all of the newfound passions that I discovered when Gary introduced me to video games. While my first initial experience was when my sister was gone at work, he really got me to enjoy playing them to the point that I can’t stop playing now. I gasped. “You’re a gamer?” Dr. Stillman nodded. “Yes Jill. Video games is a big passion of mine when I am not holding therapy sessions with my patients. It was my escape growing up since I had no other siblings. I also watch other people play video games on streams. Have you heard of Twitch?” I gasped. At this point, the conversation was almost begging to be discussed. Video games, and now Twitch? This coincidence almost convinced me that Dr. Stillman could read my mind. She was merely drawing me out with all the things that she could gather from her cognitive superpowers in mind reading. “What? You like video games and Twitch?” Dr. Stillman suddenly gave me a strange look. “Wait a second, Jill. You look familiar. Very familiar. Why do you look so familiar? Wait! Are you JillianPlays?” My heart sank. My therapist’s rather unique hobby in playing video games and watching streams has exposed me in the most awkward and embarrassing way possible. I nervously fidgeted on the couch seat as I felt my pink Trest diaper getting warm. “Um…Yeah…” I muttered. “Y-yes I…am. I am…JillianPlays.” I looked away from my therapist, as things were starting to get too embarrassing for me to tolerate. “Jill,” she said calmly. “What is there to be ashamed of? You have a wonderful channel with a following that’s growing every day. Could it be…that Diaper Girl video on TikTok?” That triggered a level of anger in me that I didn’t even know was there. “STOP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My face was burning red, and I was now hiding my face in complete embarrassment. And if that were not bad enough, I was about to cry. “Jill…Is it okay if I hug you?” I was still hiding my face from the therapist. I didn’t want her to see the face of Diaper Girl, let alone JillianPlays. “Yes…” my voice squeaked in a very high tone. The next thing that I could feel was the arms of my therapist wrapped around me. And, as much as I was trying to fight tears, the flood gates opened. A stream of tears came out of both my eyes as I began to sob loudly. My therapist gave me a soft pat on the back. “Jill, it’s going to be okay. What you are experiencing is painful trauma compounded with post-traumatic stress. You have bottled all of these feelings inside of yourself, and now you are letting everything out. Can I have your permission to try out a different treatment option?” My face was red and puffy, and it was hard to see my therapist with all the tears that were still coming out of my eyes. I was short of breath and was starting to hiccup while still crying. “I’ll try something different…sure…” Dr. Stillman pulled her office drawer open and I saw her holding something that made me gasp. I could not believe my eyes. It was a yellow pacifier, but it was much bigger than a baby pacifier. “Here. I want you to begin sucking on this until you stop crying. Take deep breaths through your nose and relax…” Still hiccup sobbing, I grabbed the pacifier at her request and began to suck on it. As weird as it felt, I began to find myself starting to relax. I only focused on breathing through my nose, but I felt very calm and for a moment, it was almost like my therapist was not even in this room. I finally removed the pacifier and breathed out a sigh of relief. Although my face was wet, I was no longer crying. “Feel better?” she asked me. “Believe it or not, some adults with autism use pacifiers to help themselves calm down. It seems to be very effective for you. Do you think that this is something that you would want to try the next time that you are upset?” I could not believe it, but I was finding myself nodding up and down. I was about to give her the pacifier back, but she balled up her hands and shook her head. “Keep it.” She told me. “Use that pacifier the next time that you are upset. Now, Jill. I have another question for you. Are you familiar with regression therapy?” I gasped. This was the same thing that Glytter was talking about. I nodded. “Okay,” she told me. “Before I talk about this therapy, I would like to address some things that might be bothering you. Now both Dr. Davis and Dr. Saunders have provided me with their notes from your recent appointments with them. It appears that you were involved in a traumatic accident that has damaged the nerves in your bladder and now you are incontinent and need to wear protection 24/7. All of the new changes that you suddenly have to adapt to along with that viral video has overwhelmed you with stress. Now we can talk about these events at later appointments, but I would like to determine what is causing you the most damage so that I can begin to form a treatment plan for you.” “Now you told me that you were familiar with regression therapy. My reason for bringing this up is because this was prescribed to me to deal with my anxiety when I was little. Now I still face anxiety problems as an adult, but what I find to be the most comforting is to be held by someone. As a child, my mother began holding me again, and my mind began to return to where it was when I was only an infant, being held in my mother’s arms. My husband does this to me now, but the place where your mind goes to find your little self inside you is called little space. Finding this space is different for each person. For you, it could be just using that pacifier when you are upset. Is regression therapy something that you would want to try, Jill?” I gave her a soft nod. “Can little space be something like peeing my diaper while I’m in bed?” I blurted. Dr. Stillman nodded. “Yes. Little space is anything that makes you feel like you are little again. There are many triggers and it’s different for each person. But no matter who you are, little space is very cathartic. Little space is good space.” I found myself blurting out more information regarding little space. I told my therapist about Glytter and how she was also incontinent like I was and how she used regression therapy. I told her about the ABDL diapers that she purchased for me and how she planned to buy me some additional things to promote that little space. “It’s good that you have a friend that understands little space,” she told me. “Let her help you find that space and use it to heal your inner child. There are still a lot of hidden traumas that we need to talk through and discuss, but if regression therapy is something that you want to do, we can discuss all the things that we want in that therapy and I will formulate a treatment plan with those things that you want. Consider that your homework assignment for next week’s session. Do you want just a pacifier? Some patients have gone all the way and have dressed themselves up like babies and live like this full time with their own caregiver to take care of them. Maybe you don’t want to be that extreme, but this is your treatment. What does Jillian need to best treat what ails her? Considering your huge Twitch following…” “And YouTube following,” I added. “Almost 200,000 subscribers.” Dr. Stillman nodded. “And YouTube following, paying for therapy is not going to be an issue for you. As a bit of advice, I would invest some of the money that you are making to secure your finances.” I nodded and took all this to heart. I shoved the yellow pacifier into one of the smaller pouches in my backpack purse (AKA diaper bag) and zipped up the pouch. I thanked my therapist for the appointment and told her that I would work on the “homework assignment” that she had for me. For today’s stream, I decided to play Animal Crossing: New Horizons for one more day before starting on anything new. From numerous suggestions on my Discord, I would be starting on every single 2D Mario game before Super Mario Bros. Wonder released on October 20th. Super Mario RPG would release on November 17, 2023, so I would want to play the original SNES version before then (Gary could lend me his SNES and game so I could play it without any issues of trying to acquire the game for myself.) After the stream, I focused my attention on a few more boxes that Glytter sent me. I opened up all of the boxes and could not believe the contents that I found: An adult sized changing mat from Rearz. A pink Simba glass feeding bottle plus an ABDL baby bottle that looked like it could hold twice as much fluid as the Simba bottle. A few different onesie bodysuits in different colors and patterns. A few were from LittleforBig. A few more were from Land of Genie. And still a few more were from Onesies Down Under. Altogether, there were at least 20 different onesies that she sent me. She also sent three different cotton footed sleepers from Rearz. And, as promised, I found her Glytter pacifier, which was skillfully crafted, with different decorations around the ring. I could see the beautiful glitter around the pacifier. It almost looked too good to suck on. Along with the pacifier came a few pacifier clips from LittleforBig. Feeling very self-conscious, I said good night to my sister before beginning my regression therapy treatment. Before I began dressing up in the baby clothes, I took the dish soup from the kitchen and began washing the pink Simba bottle in my bathroom. The door was closed, so my sister didn’t see me taking the bottle into the bathroom. After giving it a thorough wash, I filled two glasses of milk from the kitchen and poured enough milk to fill the Simba bottle. Realizing that I only needed one glass, I poured the extra milk back into the milk jug and placed it back in the fridge. I then took the pink Simba bottle full of milk into my bedroom. From there, it began. I laid out the Rearz Little Monsters changing mat and got a Tykables Animooz diaper out of my closet. I undressed myself and laid on the changing mat. I removed the soggy pink Trest diaper and used all my changing supplies to wipe and apply cream to myself before powdering the new diaper. I then diapered myself and put on a LittleforBig onesie that was white with yellow stars, blue clouds, and blue sleeves with white polka dots. A feeling of excitement came upon me as I began to snap the three yellow crotch buttons. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! The three buttons were securely snapped and the onesie was now securely fastened over my Animooz diaper. I felt constrained, but in a good way as I felt the snugness of the onesie hugging around the crotch of my diaper and up to my back. I tied the new Glytter pacifier around a yellow pacifier clip and clipped the pacifier ribbon to the collar of my onesie. I turned off the lights and I got into my queen bed, holding the pink Simba glass feeding bottle. I got into the covers and I began to suck on the feeding bottle. The same feeling of calmness came over me as the yellow pacifier from earlier. The short intermittent gulps of milk entered me as I began to feel…different. I no longer felt like an adult. I was now filled with a sense of excitement and wonder. Like everything felt like it was brand new once again. I…I couldn’t believe it. After my bottle of milk was gone, I began to coo and babble. I kicked my feet up and down and suddenly felt anxious. The kind of anxiety that an infant would feel from being over stimulated. I immediately stuck my Glytter pacifier in my mouth and my infantile anxiety was gone. This…was good. I could already feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder. This…was little space. “Little space IS good space.” I said. But if you were to hear it, it would’ve sounded like “libble spahs ih gud spahs” since my words sounded like a baby trying to speak for the first time. I woke up and realized that I was still wearing my baby clothes from the night before. I yanked the ribbon on the pacifier clip and grabbed the Glytter pacifier. Smiling, I popped it in my mouth and began sucking on it. I was in such a calm trance that I didn’t even realize that the door to my room cracked open. All of a sudden, I heard a shout from my twin sister. “JILLIAN! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?!!” I spit the pacifier out of my mouth and glanced at my sister, who turned the light on in my room. Jen’s mouth was wide open as she glanced at the changing mat on the floor, the empty pink Simba feeding bottle, and the top of my onesie with the ribbon of my pacifier clip sticking out from my collar. “Jillian Marie Jenners, WHAT are you doing dressed up like a baby? Just look at you! You are wearing a onesie with a pacifier clipped to it! You have a changing mat on the floor with an empty baby bottle! Why, I don’t even know what to say right now…” I held the pacifier in my hands as part of the ribbon dangled down. “I do. My therapist recommended regression therapy and to wear all these things so that I can find my little space…” “So you just dress up like a baby to do that?” Jen shouted. “Jill, I know that you are incontinent, but that doesn’t make you a baby. But this? You need to look at yourself in a mirror! Why Gary, your boyfriend? He would DUMP you if he found out that you were into doing this. Can you please stop?” “And stop my treatment?” I said, scowling. “This is what my therapist recommended to me.” “And THIS is what I recommend to you!” Jen countered. “Get a different therapist! She’s a quack, Jill! Just tell me. How old are you?” “21…” I muttered. “Well, you could’ve fooled me!” Jen said. “Jill, infants wear onesies, suck on pacifiers, and are fed with baby bottles. Are you an infant, Jill?” Having given my sister’s question a little thought, a mischievous smile came across my face. “Yes, I am! Look at me! I am baby Jill! Goo goo ga ga!” “Stop!” Jen shouted, looking even more upset. “You are NOT an infant! I am going to leave this room and I want all of those baby clothes off!” I sighed. “Really? Jennifer, this is MY room!” “And this is MY apartment!” Jen said, before realizing the mistake that she had just made. “Wait…Your name is on the co-lease so you have equal ownership…Fine Jill! If you want to dress up like a baby, do it in the privacy of this room! But I DON’T want to see you prancing around the apartment in a onesie and…” She tugged back the underside of the onesie to expose the padded butt of my diaper. “What is this? They make baby diapers for ADULTS? I am so disgusted and mortified right now. Just…get it back off and put your adult clothes back on. Your pink Trests are fine…Plus those NorthShore MegaMaxes. I just don’t want to see those baby clothes AGAIN!” Jen stormed off and firmly closed the door behind her, with her angry voice still trailing off in the distance. “I can’t believe it!!!! My twin sister is dressed up like a baby! URRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH!!!!!!!” I hastily put away all of my ABDL paraphernalia, cramming everything into the closet. The changing mat, the onesie, the pacifier, and the Pink Simba feeding bottle (I will wash this when my sister is at work). The rest of the morning felt awkward, as my sister began to gripe over my lack of a real job and how my streaming wasn’t going to pay the bills. I was showered and in a new lime green skirt (Skirts were all I wore now, considering how easy they hide my diapers.) and a black Ann Taylor ruffle button top. Instead of the usual date with Gary, both he and Joey decided to have another Mario Kart night at the Jenners Twins apartment. I made absolutely sure that all of my ABDL things were hidden in my closet. At around 3:00, everyone came over. Joey, Trisha, Bradley, Gary, and Mark. Joey and Gary brought a few 12 packs of soda to share. We all took turns playing four-player Mario Kart. During the evening that I played, something crazy happened. I actually got first for the first time! I came in first with Princess Peach and Gary came in second with Mario. I just couldn’t believe it. Just about everyone knew about me wearing diapers at this point. Joey knew, since he watched the VOD during the same day of my embarrassing wardrobe malfunction and discovered the Diaper Girl TikTok. Just about? Okay. Everyone knew because of Diaper Girl. And considering its popularity at this point in time, everyone has seen Diaper Girl by now. So, when I announced that I was heading off to the bathroom, they just knew that I was going in there to change my diaper. Minutes later, I came back out in a fresh diaper, which I could probably wear for the rest of the night, considering how crazy the absorbency is on these Trest diapers. Gary quietly mouthed to me, as if to say, “In a fresh one?”. I gave him a light nod. The night went on as we guzzled soda, ate pizza, and played Mario Kart to our hearts’ content. Or, in Joey’s case, it was to our “Karts’” content. I never got first again that night, but managed to snag second a few times, as my drifting skills were improving and as I grew more familiar with the tracks, my performance was greatly improving. I then saw another surprise. Trisha actually came in first! Her Isabelle beat Joey, who came in second as Donkey Kong, followed by Bradley, who came in third as Yoshi. The other thing that I noticed about Trisha was how she occasionally looked at me when I was playing. I also noticed something very weird about her that evening. During the entire time that she was over, I did not see her get up once to use the bathroom. And while it might have just been my imagination, I couldn’t help but notice a crinkling sound coming from her when she walked around the living room. Could Trisha possibly be wearing diapers? I don’t have any idea. Since Bradley was always around her and I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her boyfriend, I never asked her about the suspicions that I had regarding her undergarments in question. Besides, Trisha too wore a skirt like I did, so if she was wearing a diaper, it was not at all noticeable. During a few moments while we ate our pizza, both Gary and Joey mentioned how popular my stream was. Jen then shut the two down, expressing her disapproval by mentioning how something like that was not going to make me a lot of money and that I should get a “real job”. Before Gary and Joey could counter Jen’s argument, Jen warned them to not make any more remarks about Twitch and that the discussion was over. At around 11:00, both Jen and I politely “kicked” everyone out. Like the last meeting, which was eons ago considering how busy everyone was during the summer, we all agreed to have another Mario Kart evening again. Perhaps, at Joey’s suggestion, we should do this once a month. With that, the next Mario Kart weekend would be in October, and it would be a costume party with it being close to Halloween. After everyone left, my twin sister still looked quite annoyed. I glanced at her with a puzzled look on my face. “Jen,” I addressed her. “Just what is your problem?” Jen sighed. “I don’t know…” she said sarcastically. “Joey only mentioned your Twitch stream about TEN different times! Jill, I’ve had it. I want you to close your Twitch account and get a REAL job!” My heart skipped a beat. “No! I am NOT closing my account!” “Jill!” she shouted. “You need to get a real job! Just tell me. How many times have you looked for work this week?” “None…” I told her. “Because my job is Twitch.” “Not anymore!” she told me. “We are going into your room and you’re going to close your account. Then on Monday, I will want you to have a job by the end of the day.” I smiled. “Then I will just do YouTube…” “No!” Jen shouted. “You will also close your YouTube account! It’s a waste of time!” I sighed. “You who are so good with money…. Do you have any idea how much money I’m making doing this?” Jen fiercely shook her head. I gave my twin sister a smirk. “Fine. If you want to close all of my accounts, then I want you to look at the balances before you do. Sound fair?” Jen nodded. “Sounds fair to me! I’m going to show you just how little you’re making. That a Twitch job is a waste of time, and you should really try to get another anchor job…” I laughed. “They all know about Diaper Girl. I could never get another anchor job.” Jen walked to my bedroom and glanced at my laptop setup. “Show me your accounts.” I got onto my Twitch account and showed her the income that I was making from September alone. “WHAT?” Jen gasped. “This can’t be right! The number I’m reading is $74,818.80! That has to be just this year, right?” I shook my head with a smile. “Nope. That’s the amount of money that I made from just a month.” Jen gasped. “ONE…month? That’s half of my salary…in one month! Then how much did you make last month?” “Let’s see…” I said, smiling. “August. I made $6,680.25 in August. And if we include my first month, I have made $81,623.80 off of Twitch so far. I’m already making almost $30,000 more than my job offer, which was about $56,000…” Jen was now speechless. She was pointing her index finger at me with her mouth wide open. “Wow!” she then grabbed me by the arms and began shaking me in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me that you made this much off of streaming?!!! Why, the year is not even over yet! Who knows? By next month, your one-month paycheck could equal more than my year’s salary! Jillian! Why didn’t you tell me?” I gave my sister a glare, looking a little pissed. “Why?” I scowled. “I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen to me. Now, are you going to close my account?” Jen shook her head. “Why would I do that? If these are actual numbers, then you’re making more than what I could even imagine!” I gave my sister another smirk. “We’re not done. We still need to ‘close’ my YouTube account…” I showed Jen the adsense earnings from YouTube, from all the views that it generated so far. “$11,017.50 so far this year. Not bad for a channel with 200,000 subscribers. I already have a few offers for my first sponsorship. It’s just a little more but if you add it to Twitch, that’s $92,641.30. It’s not quite your income, but it’s a start…” “And how do you get all that money on Twitch?” Jen asked me. “Subscriptions and donations.” I told her. “Do you see the numbers? I currently have 592,891 followers, and 28,216 have subscriptions. About 85% of these subscribers have a Tier 1 Sub, which is $4.99 per month. 80% use their free Twitch Prime account. What this means is I earn $2.50 from each one of those Tier 1’s. Twitch gets the other half. I have already reached partner last month.” Jen gave me a skeptical look. “Okay. To ensure that this is for real, I want to see your bank account.” Back in mid-July, Jen helped me open a Philadelphia Federal Credit Union account. I opened up the PFCU app on my phone and pulled up my account. “Read it and weep!” I shouted. Jen glanced at the balance and gasped. “$86,473.52?! Okay! I believe you! Go! Keep making money from Twitch and YouTube and put me in the poor house with my pathetic earnings as a CPA. Now Jill? Get back to work!” After that, Jen was silent, and I could see the tears that were coming out of her eyes. “My sister is making so much money from just playing video games all day…” She then gave me a serious look. “Don’t spend too much of that. You are going to be taxed on your earnings at the end of the year…” I nodded and patted my hands on my sister’s back. “I couldn’t believe it either at first. Here…” I gave my sister a tissue and she wiped the tears out of her eyes, before blowing her nose. To quickly summarize Sunday, I went to church with my sister and Joey again and we had a delicious breakfast. The rest of the day was spent enjoying some more Animal Crossing with my sister. When Monday came around, Jen wanted to personally speak to my therapist, since I had her listed as my representative. After an hour-long conversation with her, she pulled me aside during my stream break. “Jill,” she addressed me. “I talked to Dr. Stillman, and she told me to support your treatment. She explained to me regression therapy in more detail than what I cared to even know. Anyway, go ahead and do what is good for your mental health. But let me warn you. None of our friends can know. Joey can’t know. Gary can’t know. None of our friends! She spoke about the rule of consent and how my initial attitude towards your treatment demonstrated non-consent. She expressed to me the importance of supporting you as a twin sister and how damaging it would be to discourage your treatment. Now, does it mean that I like your decision to both dress and act like a baby? No. It’s a tough pill for me to swallow. I don’t know if I can get used to seeing you act like a baby, but I will at the very least tolerate it for your sake. I want to support you, even if it means something that I don’t totally agree with. So get your baby things on after the stream. Just don’t come crawling to me if you need that diaper changed.” I nodded. “I would never ask you to do that. I mean, I have been changing my own diapers since my incontinence began. Thanks for supporting me, sis.” I gave her a hug and had a quick dinner, before my stream break ended. I continued playing through Super Mario Bros. again and managed to get through most of The Lost Levels by the time the stream was over. After the stream, I put on all of my baby things and said good night to my sister, fully dressed in the same onesie and pacifier as the night before. “Cute…” my sister said, indicating a strong tone of sarcasm in her voice. “Well, my little baby sister is ready for beddie bye!” She saw the empty pink Simba feeding bottle that I was holding. “Aw…Is my baby sis going to get a milky baa baa?” I nodded with a loud cooing sound. “Well, joking aside Jill, I hope that you have a wonderful sleep tonight. Again, this baby thing and regression therapy is still very weird to me, but if it’s going to help you heal, I don’t want to discourage that. Nini my baby sis!” “Nini Jin!” I shouted in my toddler voice. I waddled over to the fridge and filled my pink bottle with milk. I then entered my bedroom and got into my bed. I sucked down the bottle, feeling a sense of calmness come over me. I felt my adulthood vanishing before my very eyes. All of my senses were intensified, and I felt like an infant again. I cooed, babbled, and sucked on my pacifier when the infantile anxiety got the best of me. Having thought of what Dr. Stillman told me, she was indeed right. Little space is good space. I calmly suckled my pacifier and before I even knew it, I was fast asleep.

I did like the Sturgis bit. I have been there several times myself. I have a close friend who owns a few houses in Sturgis and he not only rents out the houses, but he rents out square feet of yard space for camping during the Bike week. That income alone more than pays for the properties.

Before reading the first part of this story, please know that it is the first story that I ever published and I am just getting started with writing. The following story is 100% fictional and should be treated as such. Having said that, please enjoy and any feedback is welcome. I have just been through the most embarrassing moment of my life, and it would be easy to blame my mother who definitively played a big part in it, but I do have to take ownership as well, after all, it is what I asked for. My name is Nathalie, and I am 24 years old and currently doing my master’s in computer science at the University of Birmingham, while studying I am still living at home to save money on rent. Actually if I want to write down what happened completely I can't just put it down, I want to have a complete record on how everything happened that led me to that specific moment. The beginning of this story starts, when I was eighteen and in the last years of high school. I was never one of the most popular girls, but I had a good group of friends, and I was even voted second for Prom-queen due to my good looks. One might consider it bad manners to refer to oneself as good looking. And I do agree that this sometimes can come across wrong, but I want to give a complete picture. I am 165cm, have green eyes and long brown hair. Doing sports has always been one of my favourite ways of spending free time, be it in the gym or running outside, I enjoyed most of all activities. All in all, I had a pretty normal life and even started dating when suddenly my parents got pregnant again and had my little brother Chris. I have always been proud that my parents choose to have me. When I was sixteen, they sat me down and talked to me about how they had troubles conceiving and that they used some help in order to get pregnant. It made me feel special and loved. would think that one would be ecstatic when getting a younger sibling but for me it was the complete opposite, I can’t quite explain it, I have never hogged the attention of adults or anything remotely similar to that, but I did really like my life. It had a clear structure and Chris changed that. Writing this out, does make me feel terrible and I sincerely feel bad, but I can’t change my feelings, even though I wished they were different. When Chris was born, I started acting up, I broke up with most of my social circle, I even stopped dating the boy that I had been seeing for the last two months, stayed out past my curfew and basically did everything that defied my parent’s expectations. To their credit they did let me act out for a while, but after they saw that I wasn’t returning to normal, they took me to a therapist to talk about what’s going on. The first few session were me being completely closed off, not answering, I just didn’t want to be there. It got better. I don’t know why and can’t remember the question that finally let me to open up, but somehow my therapist got through to me and it just snapped. I think I just talked for over an hour, unable to stop, luckily, I had the last session of the day, because I really don’t think I could have stopped talking at that time. I talked about everything, my plan in life, my feeling towards my baby brother and how I am hurt by the love that my parents show to him instead of just me anymore, feeling excluded from the family that I considered to be mine. I later found out that having those feeling is actually not that uncommon for someone who has been an only child for a while. They even have a name for this phenomenon but can’t remember it at the moment. With my permission Thomas, which is the name of the therapist, my parents, and I sat together, and they just listened to me expressing those feelings. I think I have never been more nervous then right before this session, I imagined all the different scenarios of how my parents will react to me, if they will hate or shame me for of my feelings. But nothing like this happened. I can’t 100% recall the whole session but I will never forget the feeling of relief that I had right afterwards. During this session Thomas gave us both a homework exercise, my parents had to write down special things they could do with me that they enjoy and that would strengthen our relationship, and I had to write down five scenarios were I felt disconnected and not included. The list, that’s the name I gave to the paper where I had to write down five things that made me feel excluded. It was easier to write my whole bachelor thesis then to start with that assignment. I thought that I could come up with at least 50 different examples but sitting in front of the paper, not a single one came to mind. That’s actually a lie. I had one concrete example, but I just couldn’t put it down. It would be to embarrassing. The List: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. The list stayed empty, it stayed like that for nearly a week when it was time to get together again and talk about the things that we came up. I clearly remember sitting in the waiting room, having arrived earlier than my parents, and contemplating if I should put on, my one item. I nearly didn’t. I don’t know what changed my mind, it must have been the session before, the feeling of trust and love that I got from my parents, or maybe it was something different that I just can’t name, but I did put one example down. The List: 1. Diaper change.

I'm sorry to the mods if this is the wrong place to post this but when I came here I was broken, VERY near suicide... and you guys helped rescue me from not only that but Leeindiapers, silly, tai, tommy, dunky , all of you cared enough to walk besides me these past few months even when I've been a total bitch and/or an emotional wreck, you've not only given me my life back I'm a changed person... no longer in the chains of fear, sorrow, regret, bitterness, anger, and all those other negative things and memories I've held on to for far too long... and so I wrote this as a dedication with a heart so full of love its overflowing and with thankfulness and grace I didnt have even two months ago... I love you all so very much. Thank you for being a safe space, a shoulder to cry on, a place to vent free of judgement, a place I've learned to trust others, and to trust myself again.. "Across the miles" When I first came here I felt so alone One by one you walked with me giving me the strength to go on ~ All of you mean so much to me the lessons you've taught the lessons you're teaching the love and the hope I've experienced , I've felt through your words even though you are so far away ~ Across the miles even across the sea you've lifted me up when I was down you've wiped away the tears I cry ~ How could I ever repay for all that you've done a once broken bitter soul given hope once more carried by your love I know theres nothing I cant do now ~ I'll be right by your side just like you were for me I love you all, each and every one of you... thank you for your love ❤️ End ❤️

Chapter 12 At a lazy Saturday morning breakfast, Michael and Sarah are excitedly discussing their plans to see the new movie after lunch. Lisa listens, smiling at their enthusiasm, and says, "That sounds like a great daddy-daughter outing! Sarah, I was thinking... remember how you had that accident at the park? It might be a good idea to wear a diaper to the movies, just in case." Sarah blushes, "But Mom…it might be crowded." Michael reaches over and squeezes Sarah's hand reassuringly. "Sweetie, it will also be dark and no one will be able to tell. Wouldn’t an accident be worse? There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Lisa nods. "Exactly. It's just a precaution. That way you can relax and enjoy the movie without worrying." Sarah considers this for a moment, then nods slowly. "Okay... I guess that makes sense." Michael smiles warmly at her. "That's my brave girl. Remember, I love you no matter what." Sarah manages a small smile, comforted by her parents' understanding and support. "Thanks,” she says, taking a big breath, I'll wear a diaper to the movie." Lisa gives Sarah's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You're doing great, honey. Now, who wants more pancakes?" The family continues their breakfast, the conversation shifting to lighthearted topics, and Sarah’s excitement at seeing the movie. — After lunch, Sarah heads to her room to change clothes before the movie. Lisa follows close behind to help with the diaper. Sarah feels a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but reminds herself that this is for her comfort and security. Lisa closes the bedroom door gently, providing a sense of privacy. "Alright, sweetie, let's get you ready for your big outing." Sarah nods, standing in the middle of her cozy, sunlit room. Lisa kneels down and helps Sarah out of her shorts and underwear. Sarah takes off her shirt, and shivers slightly as the cool air touches her bare skin. "Here we go, honey. Lay down on the bed for me," Lisa says softly, unfolding the diaper and placing it on the comforter. Sarah complies, feeling the plush fabric of her comforter against her back as she lies down. Her mom gently lifts Sarah's bottom and slides the diaper underneath. As Lisa fastens the diaper snugly around Sarah's waist, Sarah can't help but notice the sensation of the soft, padded material hugging her skin. It feels different from her usual underwear, but not in a bad way. She’s used to this feeling at night, but the thickness of the padding is not something she’s used to during the day. There's a sense of security and warmth that comes with the diaper. "There we go, all set!" Lisa says with a warm smile as she fastens the final tape. "Now, let's find an outfit that makes you feel as comfortable as you are cute in that diaper." Sarah, blushing slightly at her mom’s comment, rummages through her closet and pulls out a few different options. She holds up a pair of loose, flowy shorts and a colorful t-shirt. "How about this?" she asks tentatively. Lisa nods approvingly. "That looks great, honey. The shorts are loose enough that the diaper shouldn’t be noticeable." Sarah tries on the outfit, twirling in front of the mirror. She's relieved to see that the diaper is indeed well-hidden beneath the flowy fabric of the shorts. She feels a bit more at ease knowing that no one will be able to tell she's wearing protection. "Remember, the diaper is just there to help you feel more relaxed and secure. It doesn't change who you are," Lisa says. Sarah takes a deep breath, letting her mom's words wash over her. She stands a little taller, feeling a newfound sense of confidence. "Thanks, Mom. I think I'm ready now." Lisa hugs Sarah close, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "No one will be able to tell, sweetie. Now go have a wonderful time with your dad." — Lisa hands Michael a small, discreet backpack as he and Sarah prepare to leave for the movie theater. "I packed a few extras, just in case," she whispers with a knowing smile. Michael nods appreciatively, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. Sarah bounces on her toes, excitement bubbling up inside her as they head out to the car. The diaper crinkles slightly beneath her shorts as she moves, a constant reminder of the comfort and security it provides. The car ride to the theater is filled with laughter and lively conversation as Sarah and Michael discuss their expectations for the movie. Sarah feels a warmth in her chest, cherishing this special time with her dad. At the theater, Michael insists on buying the biggest tub of popcorn to share, along with two large fizzy drinks. Sarah's eyes widen as she takes in the bustling lobby, the scent of buttery popcorn filling the air. They find their seats just as the lights begin to dim, settling in for the start of the movie. As the story unfolds on the big screen, Sarah finds herself engrossed in the plot, munching happily on the salty popcorn and sipping her drink. About halfway through the movie, however, she feels a familiar pressure in her bladder. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, trying to focus on the film. The urge to pee grows stronger, and Sarah begins to debate her options. She could try to hold it until the end of the movie, but she wasn’t sure she could hold it that long. She glances at her dad, who is absorbed in the story, and then down at her lap, where the diaper is hidden beneath her shorts. Sarah weighs the pros and cons in her mind. If she goes to the bathroom, she might miss an important scene. Plus, navigating the crowded theater and potentially exposing her diaper in the bathroom feels daunting. And even if she did take it off, how would she put it back on? On the other hand, the whole point of wearing the diaper was to provide her with a sense of security and comfort in case she had an accident. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The diaper feels soft and reassuring against her skin, a tangible reminder of her parents' love and support. Sarah shifts again, biting her lip as the pressure in her bladder intensifies. Minutes tick by as Sarah grapples with her decision. The movie continues to play, but she finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Finally, with a small sigh of resignation, Sarah makes her choice. Slowly, tentatively, she relaxes her muscles, allowing the urine to flow into the waiting diaper. The warm wetness spreads across her skin, and the diaper expands slightly to accommodate the liquid. Sarah feels a mix of relief and a tinge of embarrassment as she sits in the now-wet diaper. As the initial discomfort subsides, however, Sarah is surprised to find a sense of liberation washing over her. She no longer has to worry about holding it or missing any of the movie. The diaper has done its job, providing her with the freedom to fully enjoy the experience. Sarah settles back into her seat, a small smile playing on her lips. The diaper feels warm and comforting, a tangible reminder of the love and acceptance she has from her family. She turns her attention back to the movie, feeling more relaxed and present than before. She's relieved that she didn't have to miss any of the film, but also a bit self-conscious about the sensation of wearing a wet diaper with other people around. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she discreetly places her hand on the front of her shorts, feeling the squishy, expanded padding beneath the fabric. The diaper feels warm and heavy, a constant reminder of what just transpired. Sarah marvels at how the material seems to have absorbed everything, preventing any leaks or discomfort. She shifts slightly in her seat, adjusting to the new sensation as the movie continues to play. As the credits roll and the lights come up, Sarah and Michael gather their belongings and make their way out of the theater. Sarah walks a bit more carefully, aware of the wet diaper between her legs. She's grateful for the loose shorts Lisa helped her choose, which conceal the bulk of the diaper effectively. As they walk through the bustling lobby and out into the parking lot, Michael glances down at Sarah with a knowing smile. "So, honey, did you end up needing your diaper during the movie?" Sarah feels a blush creep into her cheeks, but she nods, looking up at her dad with a mix of sheepishness and relief. "Yeah, I did. I didn't want to miss any of the good parts, so I just... went." Michael nods understandingly, squeezing Sarah's hand reassuringly as they walk. "That's what it's there for, sweetie. I'm glad you were able to relax and enjoy the movie without worrying about bathroom breaks." Sarah leans into her dad's side, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Dad. I was a little nervous at first, but it wasn't so bad. It's actually kind of nice not having to hold it or rush to the bathroom." Michael chuckles softly, ruffling Sarah's hair affectionately. "I bet. And you know what? I'm proud of you for being so brave and trying something new. It takes a lot of courage to face your fears head-on." Sarah beams up at her dad, the embarrassment fading away in the face of his praise and acceptance. "I couldn't have done it without you and Mom," she says sincerely. "Knowing you both love and support me no matter what makes everything feel okay." As they reach the car, Michael opens the door for Sarah, and asks, "Do you need a change now, sweetie? We’re not that far from home, but I have extras in the backpack." Sarah pauses, a blush coming to her face. She reaches down and tentatively feels the front of her diaper, assessing its wetness. The diaper is noticeably damp, but not uncomfortably so. She really didn’t want to be changed in the car again, like at the picnic. Sarah decides that she can manage the short ride home without a change. "I think I'm okay for now, Dad," Sarah replies, giving Michael a small smile. "It's not too bad." Michael nods, respecting Sarah's decision. "Alright, honey. Just let me know if you change your mind." — Sarah and Michael walk through the front door, greeted by the warm smile of Lisa. "Welcome back, you two! How was the movie?" Lisa asks, opening her arms for a hug. Sarah hesitates for a brief moment, remembering the wet diaper beneath her clothing. But the genuine love and acceptance in her mother's eyes put her at ease. She steps into Lisa's embrace, feeling her mom's comforting arms wrap around her. As Lisa hugs Sarah, she gently pats her daughter's bottom, subtly feeling the slightly squishy texture of the wet diaper. Without missing a beat, Lisa pulls back and looks at Sarah with a knowing and reassuring smile. "I'm so glad you had a good time with Dad," Lisa says warmly, her hand resting gently on Sarah's shoulder. "And I'm proud of you for wearing your diaper to the movie - it feels wet." "Thanks, Mom," Sarah says softly, averting her eyes. "I... I actually used it during the movie. I didn't want to miss anything." Lisa's expression softens even further, her eyes full of understanding. "Oh, sweetie, that's perfectly okay. That's what the diaper was there for - to help you feel more comfortable. You made the right choice." Lisa's reassuring words wash over Sarah like a soothing balm. She feels the embarrassment start to fade, replaced by a growing sense of acceptance and self-assurance. Sarah follows Lisa to her bedroom, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. She feels relieved that her mom is so understanding about the wet diaper, but also a bit nervous about what comes next. As Sarah lies down on her bed, Lisa gently removes her shorts, exposing the wet diaper. Lisa efficiently cleans Sarah up and disposes of the wet diaper. Then, to Sarah's surprise, Lisa reaches into the drawer and pulls out a fresh diaper. Sarah's eyes widen. "Mom, I thought... I mean, I don't need to wear another diaper right now, do I?" Lisa smiles softly, understanding Sarah's confusion. "Well, honey, I was thinking that since you felt more comfortable and secure wearing a diaper during the movie, maybe you'd like to wear one for a bit longer at home. It's entirely up to you, though." Sarah pauses, considering her mom's suggestion. She thinks back to how the diaper made her feel during the movie - protected, at ease, and able to fully enjoy the experience without worrying about accidents. "I... I think I'd like that," Sarah admits quietly, surprising even herself. "It did make me feel better, not having to stress about finding a bathroom." Lisa nods, her expression full of warmth and support. "I'm glad to hear that, Sarah. Remember, there's no shame in wearing diapers when you need them. It's a tool to help you feel more confident and in control." Lisa gently slides the fresh diaper under her bottom and secures it snugly at her hips. The soft, familiar feeling of the padding envelops Sarah, bringing with it a sense of calm. With the diaper securely fastened at her hips, Lisa slips Sarah’s shorts up her legs before helping her off the bed. They return to the living room where Michael is waiting. He looks up and smiles at his daughter. "Feeling better after getting out of that wet diaper, sweetie?" he asks. Sarah nods, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "Yeah, I decided to wear a fresh diaper for now. It was nice not having to worry about an accident at the movies." Lisa gives Sarah a gentle side hug. "We're glad it helped, honey. And if you ever feel like wearing a diaper would make certain situations easier, you absolutely can." As Sarah settles into the couch, she shifts a bit, feeling the soft padding of the diaper beneath her. "You know," she says thoughtfully, "I have to admit, the diapers are actually pretty comfortable. They're kind of like a soft, cozy hug." Lisa smiles warmly at her daughter. "I'm glad you're finding them comfy, sweetie. And you know what? You look absolutely adorable in your diapers." Sarah blushes slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at her mom's words. "Really? You don't think they make me look... I don't know, babyish? And isn’t it babyish to wear them during the day when I don't really need them?" Michael shakes his head. "Not at all, Sarah. Diapers are just a practical tool, like training wheels when you're learning to ride a bike. If they help you feel more secure and focus on enjoying yourself, there's no shame in that." "Your dad's right," Lisa adds. "We know you're growing up, but everyone needs a little extra support sometimes. Wearing diapers at night has helped with your bedwetting, so it makes sense they might help during the day too.” With a smile, she added, “And you don’t have to be a baby to be adorable." Sarah considers this, blushing slightly, and looks unsure. "I guess... but what if someone finds out? Won't they laugh at me?" "They don’t need to find out," Lisa assures her. "You don't have to tell anyone if you don't want to. And real friends, like Kate, will understand and support you no matter what." Michael nods. "We'll make sure you have nice loose clothes that hide the diaper well. You can wear them discreetly and just focus on having fun, not worrying about bathrooms." "Okay..." Sarah says slowly. "So it's fine if I want to wear them sometimes, like for the movies? Or at home? But I don't have to wear them all the time?" "Exactly, sweetie. It's about choosing the tools that help you thrive in different situations," Lisa confirms. "There may be times, like long car trips, where we strongly suggest wearing one, just to be on the safe side, kind of like we do at night. But you're learning to listen to your own needs." Lisa continues, "And Sarah, we want you to know that when you're wearing a diaper, you have our full permission to use it whenever you need to, whether it's because you can't get to a bathroom in time or just because it feels more comfortable in the moment. If you're wearing a diaper, it's there for you to use as needed. You don't have to hold it or ask for permission. We trust you to make the best choice for yourself." Sarah absorbs this, feeling a mix of relief, embarrassment, and apprehension. "So... even if I just don't feel like getting up to go to the bathroom, I can use the diaper instead?" "Absolutely, sweetie," Michael confirms. "The whole point is to make things easier and less stressful for you. If using the diaper sometimes helps with that, then that's exactly what it's for." Sarah takes a deep breath, letting their words sink in. "I think I understand. I don’t want anyone to find out about the diapers, but accidents are really embarrassing. It will be nice not to worry about that sometimes. Plus it was great not missing any of the movie today." Her parents smiled at her practical attitude. As they settle in to chat more about the movie, Sarah feels a flicker of peace amidst the uncertainty. With her parents' unconditional acceptance and encouragement, she knows she can navigate this new territory at her own pace, gradually learning to embrace the comfort and security that diapers provide.

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.”

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

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 2: Mundane Arbitrio Sanguinis – LittleFallenPrincess “And so I got passed over for this big promotion…” I couldn’t figure out if I was dead, undead, or alive right now… but this conversation was killing me nonetheless. ‘Work this’… ‘work that’… ‘baby shower’… ‘bins got changed to a Tuesday’… this date would kill me… if I wasn’t already dead. “So I got her back, I filed for a transfer over to accounting and…” She continued. ‘Maybe she’s a succubus like Nia? Maybe she’s not actually human, maybe she’s a succubus who bores you to death and sucks the life force from you?’ I thought to myself. Within twenty minutes of sitting down in the booth of this human bar with this human vanilla woman… I quickly realised Nia was wrong. Dating humans is just so… mundane. Now and again you’ll meet someone like Susie (I met her when she was human, and we got on really well), but most humans just talk about their dead-end jobs, their boring, mundane lives… and their relationship drama. At least the relationship drama amongst Monstrum is exciting. When Beatrice broke up with her most recent boyfriend… who was a vampire who cheated on her… she cast a curse on him so that all his ‘sustenance’ tasted like pumpkin spice latte. Like… everything, or everyone, he ate… tasted like pumpkin spice latte. All because he made fun of one drink she ordered. Another reminder to never piss that woman off. Or when we had a creepy little start coming to events, hitting on Beth. Like we made it very clear to this creep that Beth was happily married, but of course he was freshly turned as a werewolf, so he still had his human mindset… a very homophobic, human mindset… He was given many chances to behave, but after he went a bit too far… well… let’s just say he earned his ‘pup’ nickname. Thanks to a curse from Beth, whenever there’s a full moon or he tries to transform… he turns into the cutest little puppy. Which has not only humiliated him… but left him a bit of an outcast in his pack. Basically… don’t piss off witches. It’s not just witches who are great at getting back at partners, exs, or creeps… I heard of another werewolf marking his territory on an ex’s rose garden, which attracted a bunch more werewolves, which ended up ruining everything. Her garden was in a complete state after that. But no, these humans… ‘oh I keyed my ex’s car’ or ‘I complained to HR about the gossip’... like… I get it… it’s interesting to humans, but to us monstrum? It’s just a bit… basic. I don’t even know why I thought this was a good idea. And Nia will definitely be getting an earful from me later tonight over text, once I’ve listened to this very sweet but very boring woman explain, for what seems like the thousandth time, this stupid human soap opera she watches. But I didn’t want to appear rude, so I sat there and nodded along, smiling at her occasionally to make it look like I was listening, when really I wanted to break my vow of never biting humans, just so I could turn her and actually have something interesting to talk about. But no… I am a good girl. I have to behave. “And so Sheila broke up with Michael because her father was actually her…” OH MY GOD CAN THIS WOMAN HAVE SOMETHING INTERESTING TO TALK ABOUT FOR FIVE MINUTES? PLEASE? I could feel the will to live draining from me as she went on and on, not even allowing me to talk about myself. Not that I could talk about my life much, I can’t exactly tell her that I’m a vampire. I already had to delay this date from midday to late in the evening so I didn’t get burned to a crisp, I can’t give it away that I’m a vampire any more than I already have. Not in this bar full of humans. “And then Derek comes in to find her cheating on him, so she throws out all his stamp collection…” I can’t take it anymore. This is Hell. I bet even Nia could take a few tips from this woman on how to torture people. So I quickly and discreetly pulled my phone out and sent a text to Susie. Lucy: Need summon. Please. ASAP. HELP! I looked up at the woman and coughed gently. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back…” Quickly rushing out of the booth, I ran into the bathroom as fast as my legs could carry me, and dove into a stall, closing the door as a woman was just leaving. I could feel a tingle surrounding my body. Here we go… my escape… “What happened? Was it a hunter? Did a hunter find you?” Beth asked as I appeared in the Sanctuary suddenly, having been teleported back by Beth’s spell. Beth was standing there, in her pyjamas, with a blanket wrapped around herself. As if I had interrupted a cosy night in for the two of them… …Oops. “I… umm…” I blushed, trying to think of an excuse. But it appeared that Susie, who was standing next to her wife in matching pyjamas, saw right through my excuse even before I could come up with it. “Lucy… did you ask me to get Beth to summon you so you could get out of another bad date?” Susie asked, seemingly unimpressed. “I… I’m sorry! I’ll pay you back for the reagents for the spell! I just… I couldn’t stand that woman. If I hear one more thing about that soap opera she watches… I was very close to biting her!” Beth, who was clearly not happy that I abused her magic for such a frivolous and meaningless thing, and disrupted her cosy night with her wife… walked over with the most sour face I had seen on her for a while, and pulled something from her pocket. Before I could say anything else… she placed a dummy in my mouth and whisked her finger about in the air… and I suddenly found I couldn’t spit it out. “That… is so you don’t bite anyone. And for misusing my magic…” She didn’t continue that sentence, she just grinned at me, which made the feeling in my stomach so much worse… “BWHAHAHAHAHA!” Grim was literally rolling on the floor, laughing, clutching his stomach, as I stood there, in front of my housemates. “Lucy… You know what Beth is like. And you thought it was a good idea to pretend to need an emergency summon? You brought this on yourself…” Abby replied, trying to hold in her laughter. “I assume you can’t take that off?” I shook my head, knowing that if I opened my mouth… Grim would never let me live it down. Not that they’d ever let me forget this moment anyway, they had taken many photos with their phone cameras, promising to Beth that they would never show anyone outside our little circle… under pain of enduring the same punishment themselves. Still not fair though, no doubt they’ll be pulling out their phones to show me for years… decades even… I waddled my way over to the sofa in our living room, plopping my very padded rear down, in between my two friends who had settled down for a cosy evening themselves. “Need a baba, baby girl?” Grim teased. Not deigning to give him the satisfaction, I kept my mouth shut and pouted. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes right now, as no doubt he was grinning from ear to ear, and he’d just find some way to tease me even more. So no, I wasn’t giving him any more ammo than he already had. I’d just sit there… in this satin pink romper with ‘Stinky Lil Vampling’ stitched in cursive on the bib of it. Frills adorned the seat of the romper, which I had to show off to my housemates upon being dropped off by Beth and Susie. The thick padded booties wrapped around my feet were also hard to walk in, making me waddle slightly. It wasn’t the actual design of them that was the problem, they were just normal baby booties but adult-sized… no, it was that Beth had put a little spell on them to cause me to waddle. Because the nappy I was wearing wasn’t actually that thick. At least no thicker than usual anyway. Still a lot thicker than anything my friends would wear, but I could still usually walk normally whilst wearing these super babyish nappies, but Beth’s spell… or curse… meant it felt like I was wearing like twenty of these nappies. And that’s the thing… it wasn’t the romper with the humiliating message, or the cursed booties, or anything I was wearing… they weren’t the big problem. It wasn’t even the potion that Beth made me drink as punishment for what I did, one that has reduced my speech to that of a toddler at best. It wasn’t even the thick mittens which prevented me from removing any of this humiliating outfit. Not even the dummy, which was also cursed to prevent me from removing it myself or spitting it out. And no… it wasn’t the huge matching baby bonnet wrapped around my head. Sure, I looked ridiculous, but that wasn’t what was making me quake in my little booties right now. What was making me so nervous… was the thing both my roommates were eyeing up, both so desperate to have a go of… “ME FIRST!” Abby shouted, pouncing across the sofa, diving behind me and grabbing the thing I so desperately wanted to keep away from them… but found myself powerless to do anything. Damn witches and their damn tricks… Grabbing the ring behind me, she gripped it tightly and pulled sharply, pulling the string that was attached to my back. “I’M WIDDLE WUCY. I WUV BEING A BIG BABY!” I shouted out, feeling a little piece of my soul die… what was left of it anyway. “Oh my god… it’s brilliant!” Abby said, letting go of the ring, which allowed Grim to grab it. He pulled the ring pull on my back, just like Abby had, and I felt the urge burst out from within again… “I AM A BIG STINKY BABY. PWEASE CHANGE ME!” I blurted out, feeling my face burning up even more. “Oh I’m going to have so much fun with this little baby dolly…” Abby giggled, whilst Grim was incapacitated on the floor, rolling about, laughing his head off. After they had had enough of playing with their new dolly roommate, Abby and Grim sent a text to Beth, telling them that I had endured enough. Now I’d like to say they sent the text after a good ten minutes or so… but no, they really had their fun, constantly pulling the string on my back throughout the TV show they were watching, making me say increasingly more humiliating things like a toddler doll with a lisp. Once the text was sent though, it was only a matter of minutes before I felt my back feel… lighter. “Ah, it’s gone. Shame. Guess we’ll just have to wait for you to mess up again…” Abby giggled at me. Then just like the dolly string pull, the mittens disappeared. Followed by the bonnet and the booties… and lastly the romper transformed into… well it wasn’t the gorgeous dress I had worn to the date earlier… but it closely resembled it. It was as if that dress had been transformed into… a onesie… “I guess it will hafta do…” I said, before realising that the potion that had affected my voice hadn’t worn off yet. And neither had the spell on my dummy… “Guess you’re still a baby for the rest of the night. Best get you to bed early, otherwise you’ll be cranky in the morning…” Grim teased. I just huffed and pouted at my housemates, not even giving them the satisfaction of looking at them whilst in this state. ‘I’m so going to get Nia back for thinking this was a good idea…’ ======================================================= Glad you're all excited for a Lucy story! And sorry for posting this a day late, had some personal issues last night which today caused me to forget that I had forgotten to post last night. So here it is! Also... I really loved writing this chapter... no idea why.... 😇 -------------------------------------------- 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!

I would love the operation, but I want all my prostate taking out, left 100% incontinent, with no erections ever again. Also a smaller penis would be nice. Also I would go for the bowel surgery as well which will leave me permanently bowel incontinent, with passive incontinence where I'm unaware I've messed until I can smell it. This would become a dream come true.

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

I've figured out how to satisfactorily conclude the story, so back to posting! Chapter 5 Over the next week, Lucy navigated the gentle transition back to wearing underwear with the thoughtful consideration of someone who had found unexpected comfort in a symbol of her recent adventure. The package of diapers from the audition remained in her room, a tangible reminder of her unique experience. Occasionally, she would glance at it, a small smile playing across her lips as she remembered her recent audition. Anne and Peter, inspired by their daughter's brief journey into the world of modeling and acting, began to delve into opportunities that might suit Lucy's distinctive qualities. Their search was fueled by the realization that Lucy's small stature, combined with her maturity, offered a unique niche in the industry—a child who could play younger roles with the professionalism and understanding of someone older. Their inquiries led them to an agent known for working with child actors and models. The agent confirmed what Anne and Peter had begun to suspect: there was indeed a demand for children like Lucy. Studios and advertisers often preferred working with older children for roles meant for younger ones because they could follow directions more adeptly and were subject to fewer working hour restrictions. However, the agent also cautioned that some older children found it challenging to be cast in roles younger than their actual age, highlighting the importance of ensuring Lucy truly enjoyed these experiences. Motivated by this new understanding, Anne and Peter continued their exploration, committed to finding opportunities that resonated with Lucy's interests and made her feel valued for her unique attributes. Their discussions with Lucy were open and supportive, ensuring she felt involved and excited about the possibilities ahead. Then, one day, a letter arrived that seemed to hold the promise of a new adventure. The return address bore the name "Huggies," a familiar and now meaningful name to the family. As they gathered around the kitchen table, the letter unopened between them, there was a sense of anticipation in the air. This wasn't just a piece of mail; it was a symbol of the journey they had embarked upon together, of the opportunities that lay ahead for Lucy, grounded in the love and understanding that defined their family. Opening the letter, they were about to step into the next chapter of their adventure, one that promised new experiences and the chance for Lucy to shine in her own unique way. The letter from Huggies was more than just correspondence; it was a door opening to a world where Lucy's distinctive qualities were not just accepted but celebrated. Lucy's eyes widened with each word her parents read aloud from the letter, a mix of disbelief and joy dancing across her face. The possibility of being part of a Huggies advertising campaign seemed like something out of a dream, a continuation of the adventure that had begun with a simple audition. Her excitement was palpable, mirroring the thrill and pride her parents felt. Anne and Peter exchanged looks of awe and happiness, their hearts swelling with pride at the opportunity their daughter had been offered. This wasn't just a modeling job; it was a recognition of Lucy's unique charm and the very qualities that made her special. The fact that a brand as well-known as Huggies saw value in what Lucy could bring to their campaign was an affirmation of her potential in the world of acting and modeling. The family spent the evening discussing the opportunity, weighing the pros and cons but leaning heavily towards the excitement of the new experience. They talked about the schedule, what the shoots might entail, and how they would manage logistics. Every detail discussed was infused with an underlying current of enthusiasm and anticipation for what was to come. Lucy, buzzing with energy, asked countless questions, her imagination already painting pictures of the photo shoots and the fun she anticipated having. Anne and Peter reassured her, promising to support her every step of the way and ensure that her comfort and happiness remained their top priority. Deciding to accept the invitation, they drafted a response to Huggies, expressing their gratitude and excitement to be part of the campaign. As they sent off their reply, the family felt united in a shared adventure, one that promised not only a new professional experience for Lucy but also a journey filled with learning, joy, and the celebration of her individuality. That night, as Lucy went to bed, her dreams were filled with the bright lights of photo shoots and the laughter of new experiences. For Anne and Peter, the quiet of the night brought moments of reflection on the unexpected paths life can take and the opportunities that arise when you embrace them with an open heart. The letter from Huggies wasn't just an offer; it was a symbol of the beginnings of a journey that would bring new experiences and memories to cherish as a family.

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

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 14 Daniel and Jen sat together at the library, leaned over their shared notebook as they hatched their plot. “Why can’t we just request the book we want?” Daniel suggested, pushing her scarf off his notebook–the blue-green garment was awkwardly long, and had picked up a couple off color burns during potions class until Professor Saito made Jen put it away, but those were already fading as strips of spell-o-tape undid the damage. He felt the need to whisper, though every table at the library was enchanted with a bubble of silence–so long as you sat at a table, your voice wouldn’t carry beyond that table. “Explain that we want to know the history of the school, and that the history book we want is in the restricted section.” “Well the books are probably in the restricted section for a reason,” Jen pointed out, shaking her head. “If it’s there it’s not just going to be, like, ‘oh here’s basic history’, it’ll have information that’s dangerous or classified or something. I don’t know. But besides–what if the person we heard is a librarian? If they realize you’re asking for books about it, they might put it together that you overheard them in the hall.” That second point had a lot of merit, and Daniel nodded, shifting uncomfortably on the bench seat. They had another half an hour before lunch, and he wanted to get this over with before then; the sooner the better. “Hmm.” Frowning, he asked, “Can we ask about a different book and just grab what we really want while we’re in?” “They don’t let freshmen in at all,” Jen replied. “If we request a specific book, they’d bring us that book.” “Huh.” Fidgeting, Daniel pursed his lips, trying to think of a better question, a better way in. “Alright. What if we just…sneak in?” She adjusted her glasses, pushing them a little closer to her eyes, lost in thought for a moment. “I dunno–I assume they have some kind of enchantment to keep people out who don’t belong.” “They wouldn’t set up spells that’d hurt people,” Daniel pointed out. “What if someone got lost or just made a wrong turn? Or maybe they don’t bother, because they don’t think anyone will try. I really wouldn’t be surprised if the only security they have is a sign saying, ‘Please Don’t Enter’.” Jen shrugged. “Well, if you think it’ll work, I guess it can’t hurt to try? But one of us should keep a lookout, in case the librarian comes around and sees us…y’know. Trying to break in and steal their books. That would be bad.” “Yeah, I’ve heard librarians get mad when you rob them. Especially this librarian,” Daniel replied, smirking. “Trust me, it’ll be fine. Sometimes it’s just better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Jen paused, raising an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that the mindset that landed you in, y’know,” in a stage whisper, she added, “Diapers?” He blushed, fidgeting as he looked around, though of course nobody could overhear them. “Jen, when you say it like that, it makes it worse, not better.” “Oh, sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Still–aren’t you a little worried about the consequences if we get caught? I don’t want to get expelled on our first day.” “I’m maybe a little worried, but they’re not going to expel us, and besides–I’m more worried about the consequences if we don’t do anything,” he explained. “The school could be in real trouble.” (And someone could figure out the problem and solve it before me.) “But what about the librarian?” she asked, looking over her shoulder, as though expecting to see the creature looming over them and listening in. “I’m pretty sure the stuff they say about the librarian is a myth,” Daniel replied, shrugging as he leaned back a bit. “Like–it doesn’t even make sense, why would it need that many eyes?” “Well…if you say so.” Jen pursed her lips. “But I’m still going to keep an eye out for it.” “Sure,” Daniel said, “But, like, if you see it, that’s kind of too late, isn’t it?” She shrugged. “I guess. Should we try and get in before lunch? No time like the present?” “Sure–but if it doesn't work, we can put it off. I don't want to skip lunch, I'm starving.” Daniel pushed to his feet, knees shaking a little as he stood upright, looking around. More than just being big, the Alphabeta library was dense. Fifteen-foot tall bookshelves were placed near each other with barely enough room for two people to walk past, though at a touch or a word, the shelves would rearrange themselves, shifting the books up high down to a reachable level. The shelves were kept so tight and snug because they didn’t need to take up more space–the intent was for students to go in, ask for the books they needed, and then leave to read at one of the many ample chairs or tables made available for them. That, and their impossibly large collection was magically managed by something immortal, if stories were to be believed. Bookshelves fluttered around the two of them as they navigated through the library towards the south end, farthest from the entrance. Daniel fidgeted as he walked, nervously toying with the hem of his skirt and shifting his weight as they moved. “What’s got you all shifty?” Jen whispered, glancing over at him, curiosity shining through her full moon spectacles. “I–” Daniel started, glancing away. He replied in a hushed tone, since they no longer had the privacy of a bubble of silence. “I have to pee.” “Oooh,” Jen said, nodding sagely. “Well–I mean, you’ll have to go eventually. And, well, it can’t be as bad as the first time.” He looked down. His magically modified miniskirt was at least long enough to properly keep his diaper from peeking out, though he still felt like six extra inches of fabric left him uncomfortably exposed. “I guess…” he said, frowning. “I was hoping I could just hold it.” Jen snorted, then covered her mouth with her hands. “Sorry. Erm–forever?” “No, just til I take a shower in the evening,” he explained, taking a breath. “And yes, I’m not above peeing in the shower.” That got another giggle, one that Jen didn’t apologize for. “Can I point something out that you probably don’t want to hear?” Sighing, Daniel leaned back, nodding. “Fine, sure.” “The potty dance is way more obvious than if you just used your diaper,” Jen pointed out. “Like–if you don’t want people to remember what you’re wearing, just…go.” Blushing, Daniel looked around. The library wasn’t crowded, but it was busy–plenty of girls were reading or wandering the shelves, asking for particular titles so they could cram in some study time before lunch. He caught a few girls looking his way, and while he doubted all of them were intentionally staring at him to puzzle out his funny walk, he couldn’t pretend that Jen was entirely wrong. “I’m not just going to…go,” Daniel said finally. “You do you,” Jen replied with a shrug. “You know, we might be able to just get an older student to help–is there anyone in your coven you trust?” “I like them, but I barely know them still, and they’re all first or second years,” Daniel replied, shaking his head. Looking down, he checked his cheap plastic digital watch–he still had twenty minutes before lunch, and forty minutes after that before his next class. “How about you?” “Eh, we’ve got one third year but I don’t really like her,” Jen admitted. “She talks too much, you know?” “Not really,” Daniel said, trailing off as they got to the end of the public section. The restricted part of the library was blocked off by tinted glass blocks that distorted light, so that the space didn’t feel dark or closed off, but wouldn’t allow anyone to peek inside, either. A few open archways allowed students to pass through, and just as Daniel suspected, there were no locked doors, no barricades, just signs posted explaining that only third-year students could enter the restricted section of the library. Glancing around, Daniel sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the constant annoyance of his bursting bladder. Nobody was looking their way, and this deep into the library, there weren’t many students just wandering around. Walking to the side, to an archway with an obstructed line of sight, he said, “Here goes nothing.” Stepping forward, he hesitated, frowned, and stepped back. He’d forgotten something, and… “Eh, right,” he told himself, turning around. He needed to get into the restricted section. Walking into the archway, he hesitated, frowned, and stepped back. He’d forgotten something, and… “Eh, ri…wait.” Pausing, he glanced at Jen, then pointed. “Walk in there, okay?” She nodded, walking towards the archway, but as she passed the threshold she got a confused look on her face and turned around, wandering back out. Daniel got it. “There’s a compulsion charm on the entrance,” he said. “You walk in, and forget why you came in to begin with.” “It was a good idea.” Jen sounded like she was trying to console him, though Daniel wasn’t bothered by being wrong. “Let me try something,” he said, closing his eyes and focusing. He threw his willpower into a single thought, concentrating on the compulsion, demanding that his body walk forward. He passed through the entrance and stopped. Memories began to flee from his thoughts, like trying to hold sand cupped in numb fingers, and though he managed to take another step, he couldn’t make it beyond that. Dazed, he wandered back out, only remembering what his goal had been after a couple seconds. “I wonder if it can be tricked,” he began, scratching his chin. “Maybe if your goal isn’t to get inside, then…” He trailed off, finally noticing what he should have realized seconds earlier. The pressure on his bladder had vanished–he no longer had to pee. He was peeing. A blush spread up his face as he felt it, warmth spreading across the front of his diaper and down between his legs. He’d been so caught up fighting the compulsion that he’d forgotten to fight his own body, and now there wouldn’t be any holding it–at least not until he got back to his dorm. “Okay,” he said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “Bad idea, we should try something else. I need to run and go hit my room before lunch, but did you want to eat together?” Jen nodded, staring at the restricted section gate a little longer. “Sure–I’ll meet you there? I actually need to get a couple books while I’m already here.” “Cool.” Smiling, glad to have a proper friend, Daniel turned to hurry back down the main walkway. He had plenty of time, and even if he was late to lunch, it didn’t really matter, but he still wanted to get changed as quickly as possible. He could feel the warm diaper squelch between his thighs with every step, and was aware of how it sagged lower than normal, threatening to be seen beneath his miniskirt if he moved too much or caused the fabric to flap. The sooner he was fresh, the bett– A girl about his height bumped into his shoulder walking the other way, and Daniel stumbled back, catching himself on a bookshelf. Turning on him as though he’d personally insulted her, the girl snapped, “Watch where you’re going, Spark.” Daniel stared at her, brow furrowing. He’d seen her at the entrance exams, or if not her, then a near twin, which put her in the same year as him. She wore a scowl beneath a perfectly fitted hat with a short, tapered point, and had amassed a gaggle of girls behind her, all of whom had apparently accepted her as their leader. And here she was, looking for some way to assert her dominance. “Hold it.” Shaking his head, Daniel stood upright and forced out an eye roll. “I’ve seen this bit before, but your performance was a bit stilted, and, let’s be real. If you want to pretend you walked into me by accident, we’d have to assume that anyone here cares.” He felt pretty proud of his little speech, especially as he saw anger rise in the girl’s face. He’d taken the wind out of her sails, which was all he wanted to do. Turning to leave– The girl stepped in front of him. She wasn’t done with the conversation. “What’s the hurry, Spark? Off to change your diapers?” He tried to keep his face blank, to continue projecting an aloof charisma, but he couldn’t stifle his response completely. The girl grinned, like a shark tasting blood. “Holy shit, he is.” Wrinkling her nose, she added, “I thought it stank over here.” “It doesn’t even smell like anything,” Daniel shot, before he could regain the good sense to keep his mouth shut. That got a burst of giggles from the bully and her cronies. Daniel’s brow furrowed, glaring at her, then he moved to walk past her again. She stepped bodily in front of him, blocking the path. “What?” Daniel snapped, raising his voice. “You’re not going to let me through? Oooh, I can’t muscle my way through, it’s seven on one, you’re so cool.” “Nobody else is stopping you,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s just me.” “Yeah, well,” Daniel said, uncertain if he could even shove past her if he tried–she wasn’t that well built, but then, neither was he. “I’m not here to get into playground fights.” “No,” she sneered back at him. “The playground’s a bit too mature for you, isn’t it? Pretty sure you belong in the playpen.” Daniel raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, I’m sure this is very fun for you, but I’m just at this school to get an education. I’m not looking to get into a pissing contest.” Grinning like she’d just been given a surprise gift, the bully shot, “Sure, of course–” “Yeah, yeah, pissing contest, diapers, you’re very funny,” Daniel cut in, stealing the wind from her sails before she could get the quip out. “Look. Are you going to just stand in my way until we’re both late for class? Because, I’ll be honest–that’s a terrible trade for you. Seven people wasting their time to slightly inconvenience one?” He stared her down. He didn’t fear this girl. Unlike Rachel, she held no power over him, and even if she could probably beat him up–physically or magically, it made no difference–he didn’t think that was likely. As long as he didn’t show them any weakness, he would win. “Danny?” Jen called, footsteps echoing in the otherwise-silent library as she hurried up to the scene. “What’s going on?” (Not helpful,) Daniel thought, turning to glance at her. “Nothing, Jen. I’m fine.” Defensiveness flaring in her face, Jen turned to the lead bully. “Just leave him alone, okay? He didn’t do anything to any of you.” That got a few titters from the gaggle of petty witches, and Daniel found himself blushing again. Balling his hands into fists, he added, “Jen–” “Fine, whatever,” the leader sneered, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, it stinks over here anyway–have fun with your babysitter, Danny.” She turned, leading the group away. A few girls made a show of pinching their noses, though it felt a bit forced. “I’m sorry,” Jen said, watching them go. Daniel’s brow furrowed, though he tried to keep his glare from falling directly on Jen. “Yeah.” She paused, catching the anger in his tone. “Hey, Danny, don’t let them get to you, I know it sucks but they’re just–” “Don’t call me Danny,” Daniel insisted, wheeling on her. “And I had it, I told you I was fine. They were about to walk away. Now I’m going to have to deal with them riding my ass everywhere I go.” Jen’s eyes widened, looking huge behind her full-moon spectacles. “I was just trying to help.” “Yeah, well, try harder next time,” Daniel snapped. “Or maybe just don’t try.” Setting his shoulders, he turned to stomp away. “Dan–” Jen started, calling after him. “Daniel, wait!” He stopped, shooting one last look back her way, biting his tongue to hold back the more poisonous of the quips flashing through his mind. In the moment, he wanted to lash out, to hurt her–but he kept that impulse at bay. Making eye contact, he settled on, “I’ll see you at potions class.” And, without another word, without giving her an opportunity to reply and draw out the poison building in his thoughts, he turned and walked away. ... Comments and feedback are always appreciated! Every time you reply to an author's story, a Little gets their diaper! If you want to support me financially, you can also do that! This feeds the author-to-diaper pipeline much more directly. https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Ditto! I'm glad you went in this direction though. 🙂

Hopefully someone is changing TigerTy's diapers. 😛

I have 'nappy phases' - I suppose this is the binge part. I order some and wear almost constantly. But after a bit my need fades and I can have a month or two off. Is this the sort of thing you mean?

Yay. It won't be long till Nancy is standing with her nose in the corner with a very full diaper exposed and a red bottom. I hope lol

Update

I have had a holey Foley in for over 24 hours now. That is a record for me. And in to night two. Good thing I have lots of diapers on hand.

Definitely drink more, two large cups of coffee, 50 ounces of water and sometimes an energy drink. all of that equals a very wet diaper and I love it.

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

Agreed. I mentioned in a second comment that I can kind of understand the feelings behind parents who think like that (that diapers/pull-ups would embarrass an older child too much) but I also think that it's far more embarrassing for an older child to wake up in soaked pjs and a soaked bed than to wake up in a wet pull-up/diaper but a dry bed and dry pjs. If that was their philosophy, at least their initial motivation was having you avoid the continued "embarrassment" of diapers, even if the effect was clearly worse.

That was alot of money down the drain. And he said they don't sell well at markets, maybe because they don't want to be embarrassed buying them out in public like that for people to see..... a private sale and that guy would be making alot of money

I was hoping to get this chapter posted a little earlier, but went down a rabbit hole when researching biopsies. No promises, but I will try to have chapter 9 posted Sunday night. Chapter 8 With the intense pain waking me up, I look frantically for the remote to press the call button. Taking deep shaky breaths, I find the remote in the dark and hit the call button. As I waited for the nurse, I gripped the covers so tight that my knuckles were probably white if I could see them. Each second seemed to drag on as I waited for the nurse. After the longest 2 minutes of my life, a nurse walks in and cuts on the lights. She said, “What can I do for you, Will?” Between breaths, I was able to muster out, “I need more pain medicine!” “You’re not scheduled to have another dose for another 2 hours, can you wait until then?” she said. “NO!” I almost shouted at her. She responded, “I’m going to go get the attending doctor and will be right back.” As she was walking out of the room, I heard in a groggy voice, “Will, what’s wrong?” I look to my left to see my mom tossing off a blanket and getting off the couch. She rushed to my bedside as I said, “I. Need. Pain. Meds.” “Was that the nurse that just left?” she asked. I nodded and my mom said, “Hopefully, she will be back soon.” She looked at me with concern and grabbed my hand which was clutching the sheets. I held her hand in a death grip as I stared at the ceiling tile directly above my head and kept taking deep breaths in and out to keep from screaming out in pain. Five long minutes later, the nurse rushed back into my room. “Will, I spoke with the attending doctor and he prescribed you a more powerful medicine called Dilaudid,” she said. Injecting the syringe into my I.V., I felt a rush to my head and my peripheral vision blurred for a few moments. Then relief washed over me as my hands lost their tight grip on my mom and the sheets. With a sigh, I said, “Thank you.” The nurse said, “Certainly, Dilaudid is about 10 times stronger than morphine and lasts longer too. You shouldn’t need anymore until tomorrow morning.” I said, “OK.” On that note, the nurse walked out and my mom placed a hand on my cheek and said, “Get some rest and wake me up if you need to go to the bathroom,” then kissed me on the forehead. I nodded, then turned onto my side to let sleep overtake me again. I woke up to Rosie gently shaking my shoulder, “Good morning Will, do you need any more pain medicine?” Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I shake my head yes as I can now feel my joints start to ache again. Rosie injected my I.V. with Dilaudid and another syringe of nausea medicine. She then connected the feeding bag that was already hanging from my I.V. pole to my feeding tube. Unplugging my I.V. pump, she turned to me and said, “Let’s go get you weighed and measured this morning.” I slowly got out of bed with Rosie’s helping hand. As soon as I put all of my weight onto my legs, I lost my balance and immediately grabbed Rosie to keep from collapsing onto the floor. “Will, are you alright?” Rosie asked. As she was helping hold me up, I said, “I just feel very weak.” “Are you able to walk to the nurse station?” she asked. “I should be able to with some help,” I responded. My dad stepped in and wrapped an arm around my torso to support most of my weight as I leaned against him. My mom then took the I.V. pole to push alongside me. Taking shaky steps, we all made the short trip to the nurse’s station not too far outside my room. My dad helped me step up onto the scale and kept a hand on me to keep me steady and only briefly letting go so that Rosie could get an accurate weight. Rosie said, “Will, you are 5 foot 3 and 105 pounds.” With it being Groundhog Day with that information, all my parents and I could do was just nod. We slowly made our way back to my room and halfway there I was hit with the need to poop. Looking up at my dad I said, “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Alright, we will head straight there,” he said. As all three of us walked into the bathroom, my bowels were ready to erupt. Standing in front of the I yanked my pajama bottoms down and as soon as my butt touched the toilet seat, I unleashed a torrential mudslide into the toilet bowl. I didn’t even care at the moment that I had an audience and was using the bathroom like a preschooler. At that moment I just felt relief. My parents quickly exited the bathroom to give me privacy. On the way out my dad said, “Will, let me know when you are done and I will help you to bed,” as he left the door slightly ajar. After a couple more waves of poop were evicted from my body, I wiped and flushed the toilet. I called out, “I’m done.” My dad walked back into the bathroom, placed his hands under my armpits, and lifted me to my feet as I pulled up my underwear and pajama bottoms. Wrapping one arm around me and taking my I.V. pole with the other, we stopped by the sink to wash my hands, then made our way back to my bed for me to collapse into it. Already exhausted, it didn’t take me long to fall back to sleep. I woke up to Rosie flushing my feeding tube and replacing my bag of fluids. She then said, “Will, someone will be here in a few minutes to take you to get your x-rays, CT scan, and MRI scan.” I nodded and a minute later an orderly came into my room pushing a wheelchair. He asked, “William Gauss?” I nodded yes and he said, “I'm going to be taking you downstairs to radiology.” My dad walked over and helped me out of bed and in the wheelchair. The orderly took my I.V. pump and bag of fluids and placed them on the I.V. pole that was attached to the back of the wheelchair. A few minutes later, I was left outside of radiology for an x-ray. The technician took me back into the room and after 15 minutes of getting a full body x-ray, I was sitting back in the wheelchair outside of the room to get my CT scan. Another technician wheeled me into the room and I had full body scans taken with and without contrast. The process took about 45 minutes and I found myself falling asleep then being awakened by the technician over the intercom instructing me to hold my breath during certain aspects of the scan. After the CT scan was complete, I, again, found myself waiting outside of a different room to get my MRI. After a few minutes of waiting, a technician walked out and asked, “Are you William Gauss?” Looking up, I see a man of average height and build with short brown hair and blue eyes wearing light gray scrubs. I responded, “Yes.” “My name is Chuck and I will be taking your MRI today, have you ever had an MRI before?” he asked. Shaking my head, I said, “No.” He said, “That’s OK, we use a strong magnet to help take an internal picture of you. It can be very loud.” “Yeah, the strong magnet causes all of the dipoles of the nuclei in the atoms of my body to align with the magnetic field. Based on how long it takes for the nuclei to return to their original orientation after the magnet is turned off, it tells the detectors what type of tissue it is. The reason why the boundaries between different types of tissue are blurry is because of the Gibbs effect and is a natural consequence of the solution along the boundaries of the partial differential equation used to construct the image.” Pausing for a second, I then sheepishly said, “Sorry, I'm kind of a big nerd and sometimes can’t help myself.” Smiling, he said, “That’s OK, it’s nice to know a patient who has a good understanding of what I do.” After verifying my medical history to make sure that I didn’t have any magnetic material in my body, he disconnected my I.V. and helped me into a pushchair that was nonmagnetic to wheel me into the room. Chuck helped me onto the sliding table of the MRI machine and connected my I.V. to a line while explaining, “This is so I can inject you with contrast during the MRI.” Before placing headphones on me, he said, “This is to protect your hearing from the loud noises and so that I can give you instructions from the control room. Since this will take a while, we usually play music to help keep you calm while being in such a tight space. Do you have anything in particular that you would like to listen to?” Thinking for a second and deciding to keep it simple, I said, “90s alternative rock would be fine.” After spending nearly an hour in the small tube of the MRI while listening to the loud blaring music of Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Mazzy Star, Gin Blossoms, 4 Nonblondes, Local H, and the periodic loud mechanical whirring and banging of the MRI machine; Chuck had finished all the imaging and brought me back out into the hallway to wait for an orderly to bring me back to my room. Roughly 10 minutes later, I was back in my room and as soon as I was back in bed, exhaustion sent me back to sleep. I woke up to Rosie shaking my shoulder and asking, “It’s about time for another dose of pain medicine. Do you need any?” After a few moments of taking stock of my body, I said, “Yes, the last dose is starting to wear off.” As she was injecting the Dilaudid into my I.V., I asked, “What time is it?” “It is a little after 2:30,” she said. I asked, “Wasn’t I supposed to get fed from my feeding tube at lunch?” She responded, “You did. You slept through both, me connecting your feeding bag, and then an hour later flushing your feeding tube.” I said, “Oh, I must have been really tired.” She said, “Must have, but I say when in the hospital, it is always good to get as much rest as possible. Especially, since it is hard to get quality sleep here. One of your doctors should be here soon to perform the biosis.” I said, “OK,” and she walked back out of my room. I turned to see my mom on the couch and my dad in the recliner with the remote watching TV. Deciding to try and stay awake while waiting for the doctor, I watched reruns of The Office with my parents. About 30 minutes later, Dr. Kutner walked in holding a tray. “Good afternoon Will, how do you feel today?” he asked, as he set the tray down on the table next to me. I said, “I'm just exhausted.” “This biopsy should not take too long and you can get some rest for the rest of the day. I hear that you had a rough night; has the Dilaudid been helping?” he asked. “Yes, it seems to keep the pain at a minimum between doses,” I responded. He said, “That’s good to hear, we will do our best to keep you comfortable. I’m going to perform what is called a Synovial Biopsy on your left elbow and right knee. I will inject a numbing agent into both joints, then I will use a special needle to pull a small tissue sample from the joint. Do you have any questions?” I said, “No.” He then said, “Alright, let’s get started.” Dr. Kutner pulled back the cover that was over my right leg and pulled up the pants leg of my pajama bottoms past my knee. He took some alcohol swabs off the tray and began to wipe down both my knee and elbow. Taking a syringe off the tray, he injected it into my knee and then took another one to inject into my elbow. “We are going to need to wait a few minutes for the numbing agent to take full effect,” he said. My dad then asked, “How is this going to help in finding out what is going on with Will?” Dr. Kutner responded, “This is a useful tool in diagnosing many different types of diseases, but what Dr. Cameron and I will be looking for, in particular, is autoimmune diseases and I will also be looking for mycobacterial inflections where a Synovial Biopsy is the only way to properly diagnose them.” “Elaina and I felt a lot better after meeting y’all yesterday and this just confirms to me that y’all are doing all you can to figure this out,” my dad said. With a small smile, Dr. Kutner said, “Thank you, my passion is helping patients like Will get the proper diagnosis so that they receive the care that they need.” Turning to me he said, “Are you ready?” I nodded and said, “Yes.” Taking a large needle off of the tray, he turned to me and said, “I’m going to start with your right knee. I’m going to need you to stay as still as possible.” I nodded, then watched as Dr. Kutner plunged the needle into my knee. It was odd that I felt no pain but just pressure from the force of the needle going in. He then pulled the plunger back and I watched as the syringe filled with what looked like bloody pus. He set the needle back onto the tray and grabbed a cotton ball and tape to cover the puncher wound from the needle. He took another needle and repeated the same process on my left elbow. As he was pulling down my pajama pants leg and pulling up the covers for me, he asked, “That was too bad, was it, Will?” I said, “No, it didn’t hurt at all.” He said, “Dr. Cameron, Dr. Taub, and I will see you in the morning to go over some of the primary results from yesterday’s blood work and today’s scans. I should have the results back from today’s biopsy either Thursday or Friday.” I said, “OK.” My mom then said, “Thank you, Dr. Kutner.” Not long after Dr. Kutner left; I fell asleep. I woke back up to the intense need to vomit.

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

I hope your mom will be fine

Wow.... "Curve Balls" is right!! Deal with the important things in your life, this story can wait !!! Prayers for your family.

Things happy and sometimes (most) of the we cannot do a thing about it. Prays for you and your family.

Here's an interesting reason why Christina Applegate wears diapers and not only because she has MS but for another reason as well. Here's the link to the article https://pagesix.com/2024/04/24/entertainment/christina-applegate-wears-diapers-after-eating-contaminated-salad/ https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a46409874/christina-applegate-health-update/ I think Christina Applegate should be the spokeswoman for why Diapers should be normalized.

Pre-toilet training toddlers are the golden age. You can move, you can talk, nobody expects anything out of you. It's all downhill once you start toilet training and have to got school, and work, and whatever...

I've read every possible topic and this on the Internet in search of the one golden rule, but what I've come to believe is that it's up to the person to do what makes then comfortable (within reasonable limits). Let me explain........ I personally wear 24/7 and that means all the time, no matter what. So, there are times I need to be in public and might not be able to totally hide it. The best rule of thumb for be is that since diapers are my underwear I'll treat them as such. What this means is that any situation where a average person wouldn't just wear their underwear I can't wear just a diaper. For example, I'm fine with not covering it if I'm changing clothes at the gym or somewhere similar, but need to be making a reasonable effort to cover it everywhere else as average people will do with underwear. I'm also fine if my waistband accidently shows since I can't really help it 100% and it's no different that underwear showing. Just a touch more embarrassing. If I treat my diaper as not a big deal, others won't either. I even was accidentally found out by my father in law who is a really intense guy who couldn't care less. The one gray situation is swimming and the beach. I always have a swim diaper on and have one that can be completely hidden but really uncomfortable, and some new abdl ones that fit more like a diaper but are way way way more comfortable to wear. Unfortunately they can't really be hidden since the waistband guess way above my swimsuit and is a teddy bear print. Sometimes I wonder if it's even with covering at all. Ultimately, I treat others as I want to be treated and consider their feelings. If I'm not causing a problem I think it's 100% ok to wear just a swim diaper or normal diaper to the beach (pool rules usually don't allow this). If I treat it as just normal underwear I don't see any issues with others assuming you are ok and comfortable with the occasional comment or weird look. I'm planning on testing the waters by not hiding hiding the top of my swim diaper this year. One last comment is that intent is everything. If I'm in just my diaper, if it's the beach, or some other situation it's because it's normal to be in underwear, and that my intention is to just enjoy the activitiy, not emphasize that I'm a baby or in a diaper. If people notice, oh well but I'm not looking to make a point of it. I'm just enjoying my day without making a scene. It seems like a firm line not to cross. Other than that just have fun and don't think about your diaper or what others might think, as long as you are being a respectful adult.

Hey everyone! This is now the second to last chapter. Originally, I was going to add Emma’s perspective right after this before the very last chapter, but as I mentioned previously, all that will now become a separate story. Further, I’ve already written most of the last chapter, so finishing it should be pretty straightforward. I will still need to edit it, but unless something massively problematic or time-consuming comes up tomorrow, the final chapter should be out by tomorrow some time. 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. As this will be announced during the next chapter, this is your last chance to make a comment. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this next to last chapter! Chapter 14: Judgement of the Futures What a week’s time difference makes in one’s life. I know it’s less than 2% of a year, but at the same time, I couldn’t even begin to fathom all the changes that had happened since the staff here first administered their pulses to Emma to calm her down. Emma’s recovery was slow and painful, and every toy, worker, and volunteer just wanted to wrap her up and make her feel better. Fortunately, though, Miss Dee-Dee had been using the diluted Tabers milk with Emma and she had finally weaned her off it two days ago. It took until last night for Emma to finally come out of the fog, and though her potty control was practically non-existent still, she was no longer the same perpetually distraught Little who had heard the news about Nancy leaving her. Next, the daycare went on a field trip yesterday, and oddly enough, she seemed to improve dramatically over the course of that one outing. I wasn’t really sure what to make of it, but I was just happy now that she was recovering from her ordeal. I knew she was still sad, and the deep-laced trauma that Nancy had caused would take time to truly recover from, if at all, but Emma was at least no longer feeling the connection between Nancy’s absence and her thinking of herself as being a ‘bad’ girl. Speaking of bad girls, while Emma had still mostly been her daze, I was able to listen around the daycare and found out that Nancy had already been scheduled for an expedient trial. Rumors swirled around that some wanted to make an example of her, while others persisted that the pro-Big movement was going to bat for her amidst charges of bribery and corruption to do so. Inside the daycare, it was hard to know which to believe, but as the week had progressed, I just felt further confident that she would no longer threaten Emma’s well-being. The more time she spent away from Emma by now, the better. So, with things clearing up around Emma and her acceptance of going up for adoption and now at least the concept not causing her to burst into tears every five minutes, the staff had discussed it two nights ago on whether she was ready or not. I guess they believed she was as Mrs. Gillies broke the news yesterday, seeing how Emma seemed more ready than ever, that she would begin the adoption interviews tomorrow morning. Emma only calmly nodded, but now, it was my turn to panic. As such, this morning, I went to stretch my legs before Emma woke up and to clear my mind in preparation for the big day. As it turned out, Nadia was doing the same, being leader of us toys and all, and quickly joined me. We talked about daycare in general and my potential future, but finally, she asked the question I had been dreading myself. “You think you’re ready for today?” I sighed. “To be honest, I’m just not sure. I feel that so much is riding on today. Unless I’m mistaken, I don’t think it’s an understatement to say that it could change everything.” Nadia nodded. “I hate to tell you this Dash, but of course it will change everything.” If I had blood, it would have frozen right then at her confirmation of my worst fears. Nadia smiled, clearly seeing my discomfort. “Relax, Dash. You’ll be okay. I’ve seen this before with other Littles and you have a leg up on almost every single one of them.” “I do?” I could feel a sliver of hope rising in my chest. “You do. Of course you do. Just think about the other Littles that have been adopted here since you came.” I pondered them all for a moment, but the odds felt heavily stacked against Littles from my point of view. “Not too pretty, right?” I nodded. “Yeah, Nadia, and that’s exactly why I’m nervous. I mean, Zack went off to a good place apparently, but Fiona? For all I know, she’s either close to braindead by now or growing a third arm from all the chemicals they’ve probably tested on her. And then Tyler…” I trailed off and thought of the most recent adoption case here. Tyler had recovered more than most could have ever guessed, but reflecting back now, I felt that he was likely just being prepped for his new caregiver. His new daddy had come in all joyous and strong and the two seemed to hit it off right away. I was glad that Tyler’s toddler to preschool level mentality would finally be able to rest and enjoy life. As it turned out though, his daddy had other plans. Probably one of the most frustrating things about Big society were the subtleties of what was considered good or bad with Littles. Hitting was bad but spanking was almost expected. Surgical alterations to the brain were illegal now but permanent hypnotic states that achieved the same effects were still widely practiced. Even now, I had to be very careful about the stuff that Emma was watching around here. So, as it turned out, Tyler’s daddy seemed to revel in where exactly this line was for Little care. At first, Tyler seemed positively thrilled at his new life. New toys and playdates all filled his future, but soon enough, his daddy began to place him in scenarios that seemed designed to humiliate him. Petticoat punishments, outfits designed to show his often-leaky diapers, and planted hypnotic triggers that made nearly every humiliating scene ten times worse were just a few of the things he endured. For someone like the already fragile Tyler, it didn’t take long for him to break. His once miraculously obtained maturity now seemed to all be locked away. He would still come to daycare in some sailor suit that left little to the imagination over the state of his infantile bulky diapers, but Tyler would just play by himself and babble incoherently out loud as if he now had some invisible friend. And if that wasn’t enough to feel bad for him, his daddy also seemed to revel in his punishments. The slightest infraction of his daddy’s rules and Tyler would find himself over his lap for a massive enema or a merciless spanking. Either one would end in pain for hours, but his daddy always just chalked it up to ‘improving his Little’s behavior.’ The staff always tried to help Tyler when he came in, but they knew this road only lead to one of two destinations. Tyler’s new daddy would either tire of him and hire a nanny to take care of him as a newborn, or he would pawn him off to the nearest research lab for a quick cash payment so that he could buy a new Little for his barbaric schemes once again. I now shuddered at the thought. “Don’t think about them, Dash. I know it’s hard, but they’ll only cloud the task ahead of you. Due to various reasons, none of them had a toy like you. Tyler was blackballed from having a toy here by us and Fiona and Zack’s toys were old and didn’t have the technology to really influence them during the day. One positive scenario out of three is about what you would expect, but you, Dash… you make the difference, and your odds are so much better at finding success for Emma today.” I was finding it infinitely ironic that the subliminal messaging that had first got me into trouble with everyone here had now become my secret weapon against all the evil around here as well. I knew that the difference in perception was largely due to what the messages were being used for, but I still found it interesting over the shift in the perception of my ability. Regardless, though, I knew Nadia was correct and that my messaging would be critical and one of the biggest factors in whom Emma chose today if she encountered any of the more terrible Bigs. ‘No pressure, right?’ With that, we talked a little more about what to maybe look out for and what I thought might be a good caregiver for Emma, but soon, the sun streamed in, and we both went our separate ways. Just as I snuggled back with Emma, Miss Tully came in to wake her up for the day ahead. “Rise and shine, sweetie!” Emma only smiled back and proceeded to just lay back as Miss Tully went about the usual morning routine. Just as she finished retaping the last tab of her diaper, she smiled back down to her. “Today’s the day you get to find someone to take care of you. Isn’t that exciting?” I could sense the hesitancy in Emma still, but she just nodded her head and held me closer. Ever since Nancy had left, not counting bathtimes in the backroom for just such situations or my own wandering when she was asleep, I had yet to leave her side. Even when she was being fed, I was always squashed right in the seat along with her. For Emma, I had become her safety net in approaching the world, and while the reasons why nearly wanted to tear my heart in two, I was proud to provide the service for my Little. So, after a round of breakfast, Emma was bathed and dressed in a mostly white dress decorated with patterns of pink and green floral patterns. A large pink band wrapped around her and tied in the back and was adorable, but also caused the billowing material below it to poof out right over her diapers. Emma didn’t mind and just giggled as the little white shoes were placed on her feet and a dainty pink headband slipped into place over her hair. A pink carnation crooked right off the middle on the headband completed the outfit perfectly. Finally, she was ready to meet her future caregiver. Once again, Emma was escorted into Mrs. Gillies’ office and placed in a highchair. I didn’t like the whole notion of us being potentially trapped if a Big decided to get nasty, but I was at least partially relieved when Mrs. Gillies spoke up next. “Okay, Emma. We’ve basically narrowed down our selection to three different caregivers and all should be good fits in their own ways. You just hug Dash however, if you get at all scared, or call out for me if anything get’s too uncomfortable, okay?” Emma immediately hugged me tighter and nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to let the first one in. Just see what you think of her and then we’ll move onto the next one.” Again, Emma just nodded. Mrs. Gillies seemed like she wanted to hear something more and say something more herself, but with a sigh she walked out. “You can go in now…” A woman said a few things back but then began to walk in. ‘Okay… this is it…’ The gigantic woman walked in with an air about her that I couldn’t tell if it was more dignified or snobbish. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her narrow-framed glasses hugged her face and almost seemed to bounce about slightly against her taut face as she walked in the room. Her clothing was well-pressed and selected, giving her a put-together but intimidating, domineering presence. “Hello, Emma,” she said, her body barely moving as she nearly floated over to the chair in front of us and then sat down. “I’m Dolores Abernathy. It is a pleasure to meet you.” “Hi…” Emma said shyly, squeezing me once again. I could quickly tell she was uncomfortable around her, and my yellow flags were going up already. Dolores’ face contorted for a moment. “Emma, please sit up straight and project your voice. A proper lady does not slouch and always makes herself heard clearly to whomever she is speaking to.” Emma did as she was told, but I currently wasn’t feeling any love so far from the strict lady now before us. Still, I let their interview continue, hoping that things would improve quickly. They didn’t… “Emma, sit up.” “Emma, clear your throat.” “Emma, stop playing with your hair.” “Emma, stop hugging that unsightly dog so close.” More warning flags were popping up around the woman, but I supposed one could tolerate it if it helped Emma mature a little. It definitely wasn’t the way I would go about it, but I could see the upside of her dominance. Then, she went from acceptable to me wanting to escort her out of that room myself, willing or not. “I’m told you haven’t taken any ballet classes yet. We’ll soon have to change that,” Dolores noted stiffly, looking over a single file in her hands that she had popped out of the bag she had brought with her. “My old cawegivuh nevuh bwought me to a wehesuhl…” Emma sadly reported back. Dolores’ eyes narrowed. “Emma, we do not badmouth those who take care of us before. I’m sure she did her best, but I want to talk about something different. Your speech… I think we need to fix some things. Repeat after me.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Dolores perked up more, popped out her lips one and then began. “Something simple to start… Sally sells seashells by the seashore. Now, you try.” I could see her sincerity in making Emma a better Little was there, but I wasn’t sure if she would make her happy, but still, I let Emma try at least. “Sawy… sewls seaschewls by da schee… scheeschowe.” I knew it was her best effort and I was so proud of her for even attempting such a task, but Dolores’ eyes just seemed to want to twitch out of their sockets right then. “That was… a good… first try… I guess.” She sighed heavily behind her gritted teeth in a way that conveyed her clear disappointment. “I suppose we’ll need to work on that, but one more thing I think I need to address…” Her eyes then horrifically narrowed in on me. “About… him.” Her words cut through me like a knife. The way she said ‘him’ made me feel like some bug that needed to be squashed immediately. While I was at least willing to entertain the notion of discipline with a purpose to help Emma out, I felt that Dolores was bordering on being too strict now. I just hoped I was wrong. “Wah abou’ him?” Emma asked pitifully as her grip around me only tightened. I didn’t like Dolores right now, but I was at least feeling a little safe that Emma was cradling me so close. Instead of jumping to do whatever Dolores had said to do, Emma was now questioning her orders. Dolores glared back at both Emma and me now. “He’s filthy and obviously an impediment to you growing up. Proper Littles should have age-appropriate toys, but one’s in proper working order… or at least ones that don’t look like they just came out of the garbage.” There was silence in the room for a little bit after that. Her words struck me deeply and I was tempted to steer Emma away from this uptight disciplinarian, but I wanted to know what she had to say first. After all, I didn’t want to control my Little, only protect her, and I was admittedly a bit of a mess as of late. Being with a distraught Little at all times of the day, including diaper changes, playtimes outside, and meals, one tended to get a bit messy bit by bit. Finally, Emma glared back and gripped me even closer. “No, Dowowes… I’a nah givin’ up Patsch! He’s my fwiend…” Her rejection now was the final nail in Dolores’ proverbial coffin. Almost immediately, I made sure from my messaging that Emma would never choose Dolores if ever asked in the future. From her body language, I don’t think that would have been a problem, but I just wanted to make sure. After, Dolores tried to reason with Emma as best she could in her proper way, but I could see the tension between the two had already set in and Emma might have had the body of a woman back in her own dimension, but she had a stubborn streak like any other toddler would once they had made their mind up. So, Dolores left in a huff yet still determined to obtain the Little she had just met. For her, I suspected she was looking for a challenge. After, I was now figuring out why I was needed here. I felt that Emma could have handled Dolores on her own, but I added both a source of safety and a second opinion… just in case. Then, after a diaper check, with Miss Tully declaring that Emma should be set for at least a little while longer, the next Big strolled in. Immediately, I could smell his aftershave and as he sat down in front of us, I could feel the waves of masculinity ripple off his shoulders. His stubble, dark peacoat, and tousled hair could portray someone who was a, as Dolores might have said, ‘ruffian.’ Underneath all that though, I could see an intelligence burning behind his eyes… a desire for something. If nothing else, he at least intrigued me. “Vincent Carlos,” he said casually with almost a twinkle in his eye. “You must be Emma.” Emma quickly nodded and hugged me closely, but I couldn’t tell if it was from discomfort or that in another life, she might have actually found him attractive. But this being the society it was, at most, the two could only ever be daddy and daughter, so I watched on for any signs of issues. He smiled warmly. “Awww. No need to be shy around me, Emma. I just wanted to meet the Little I’ve heard so much about. I just loved all the bits of defiance against another Big and your bounce back from a near catatonic state. Just brilliant!” Emma’s head popped up from its previously stationary stare at the floor. “You dih?” she asked innocently, her eyes widening like her favorite movie star had just complimented and had read all about her. Vincent chuckled. “Of course, sweetie. Why do you think I’m here?” His words flowed into Emma effortlessly and I could see she was already taken by the stranger. I readied myself more, just in case, but the two then began a pleasant chat of question and answer. Each question, like “where did you originally grow up?” was always followed by a quick answer to the best of her ability, like “Vehmon’?” I could tell those memories of her past life remained hazy from the treatment that she had been subjected to, but her answers always only ever seemed to intrigue Vincent further. At first, I didn’t think anything of his questions, but the further he asked them, the more I became concerned with what was actually happening between the two. If I didn’t know better, I swore he was conducting a job interview rather than getting to know her. Finally, though, as he paused and looked over some of the notes he had brought with him, Emma asked a question back. “Whas youwe jahb?” Vincent for once seemed thrown off a little, almost as if he was trying to make something up, but he just sighed and smiled piercingly back at Emma. “It’s a company called Diamond Technologies. It’s pretty big, but I’m actually part of their research group out west.” “I nevuh been ou’ wess before!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Duh you have a hosee?” Vincent laughed but shook his head. “No, unfortunately I don’t. I can ride one, but Peirama is a bit greener than the wild west. It’s actually a very beautiful town and there’s tons of other Littles just like you there.” “Weawy?” she asked enthusiastically. I could tell his hooks were deepening into her by the minute and while I felt hesitant, I wasn’t sensing anything bad… about… him… My mind whirled and reared on its axel. It was hard to remember so long ago now, but Fiona… ‘Didn’t she? Oh shit!’ I finally remembered that Fiona had been adopted out by a research company… Diamond Technologies. I wasn’t sure where she was at now, but Vincent said he was in research. Alarms bells were quickly going off in my head. Still, I wasn’t sure what I should do. On one hand, Emma seemed absolutely enchanted by the prospect of going out west, but on the other, based on Fiona’s fate and his job as a researcher, I felt obligated to ring all the panic sirens I could. Once again, though, I felt indebted to Emma for her to see all this out. I needed a hint of her hesitancy, or something like that, so I could intervene before she made a terrible mistake and not feel that I was controlling her. Seeing his sway with her though, I had a few creeping doubts that was going to be easy. Now, everyone has a fatal flaw of some kind. They may try to overcome it and succeed, but its presence will always be there waiting to bring them down. For me, it was my past and the fact that I once wanted to regress Littles. I had moved beyond that phase, but even now, I was holding back in trying to help Emma out for fear of performing those same actions against her, for her betterment or not. For Vincent, though, I realized his fatal flaw was arrogance. Emma had been so thoroughly enchanted by his seeming spell that he was now pushing the boundaries of their conversation. Seeing that she hadn’t made any terrible connection to Diamond Technologies, he began an entirely new set of questions. These felt far more sinister than a simple background check. His unlikely chance at slipping up had actually happened. “What’s your biggest fear?” “Could you deal with small, enclosed spaces for long periods of time?” “Have you ever had a bad reaction to hypnosis, voluntary or forced?” “Any objections to being spun very quickly, bees, or being submerged in darkness for more than 24 hours at a time?” “How are you with needles?” With each question, I could feel Emma once again begin tightening her grip around me. I could tell she was still very much enthralled with Vincent still, but her answers became more strained… harder to articulate even. “Why you askin’ me aw dese quessions?” she finally asked, the fear in her voice now very evident. Vincent smiled. “Well, sweet pea, I just need to know these types of things to figure out your limits. Maybe I think you would like… amusement parks, and I just want you to be able to go on all the rides. Make sense?” He said the whole bit with such confidence and vigor that one might have been forgiven for thinking that he was telling the truth, but his brief hesitation before amusement parks were setting off more sirens in my head. It was one thing to ask strange questions, this was a strange land after all, but making things up like that on the spot showed me he was either a good liar or had already planned for contingencies like these and was just remembering how to respond non conspicuously. Either way, I didn’t like it. Emma seemed more convinced than I was, and therefore still wasn’t absolutely rejecting him on the spot. It made me nervous, and I thought it couldn’t get any worse right then with my nerves… until Vincent pushed a thick stack of paper, likely around 20 sheets, in front of Emma along with a neon-colored and glittery pen beside it. “Can you read, Emma? I didn’t see that if you could in your file.” Emma looked down at the numerous pages and the smaller text on each of them as she flipped through a few. She started to try and read the first page, but after a minute or so of trying to sound out the first word, she looked up at Vincent with defeat in her eyes. I knew her reading skills had taken a major hit before when she was first regressed, but as Nancy had fumed at everyone, Emma still had the ability. Likely, it was probably just all the legalese in front of her right then and more about sounding the words out than anything. It could have been a hypnotic block for all I knew, but her defeated stare back up at Vincent spoke volumes. “Awww. That’s okay.” He then reached over and pointed to the bottom of the page. “This is a contract, Emma. If you sign right at the bottom, I can have you out of here real soon. It will be kind of like an adventure. Does that sound fun?” To my surprise though, Emma hesitated, and now, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she was showing signs of her distrust of Vincent. There still seemed to be a part of her that wanted to sign the contract and go with him out west, but I could feel her pulse quicken, her breathing began to labor, and her grip around my midsection begin to tighten. I didn’t like seeing her in such a distressed state, but for my own conscience, it was the little hint of her denial of Vincent that I had been looking for. So, I quickly switched on my messaging and slowly tried to get Emma to steer clear of this man. Given his appearance and his suave yet underhanded and sinister intentions most likely however, I was worried about any outright rejection Emma could show him like she had with Dolores. Bearing that in mind, I made sure that my messaging was more subtle… precise and safe with what I wanted her to do. The first step was for her not to sign the contract. “I wanna dink abou’ ih fiwst. Iss dah okay?” to which of course he replied, ‘yes.’ Secondly, I wanted the time between the two to be over as soon as possible. My mind ran over the dozens of possibilities that I could achieve without hurting Emma or angering Vincent. She could always cry, but Vincent might not react well to that and in a game where seconds counted, I felt I should avoid scenarios like those as much as I could. This also led to the elimination of her throwing something, having a tantrum, yelling at him, swearing, and several other scenarios I concocted. Also, not wanting to hurt her eliminated even more possibilities. I felt stumped… until her stomach rumbled. I knew that Emma’s breakfast was making its way through her system. She was always a little slow and if my time estimation was anything to go by, it was right around the time she would usually go. Seeing Vincent and his suave persona, I felt that a dirty diaper might just be enough to give him enough of an excuse to leave, especially in an enclosed room like this. So, out of options, I began to message Emma. “Push, Emma. Your stomach is feeling a little full and maybe even uncomfortable. Push and let all that go. I’m sure Miss Tully or Mrs. Gillies will praise you like the good girl you are afterward.” Then, even more unconsciously than usual with her lack of control and under my sway now, Emma began to push. “So, would you be willing to move out west with me, Emma?” Vincent asked calmly, almost now even toying with the papers in front of her as if he was pushing a sweet treat toward her. “I…” She grunted briefly. “I don’ know… iss so faw an’ aww my fwiens awe hewe. I nee’…” Emma grunted again, but this time my messaging held, and her bowels didn’t. Soon, a low wet fart could be heard punctuating the stillness of the room. I could see Vincent quickly realize what had happened and before Emma had a chance to even finish, I could see the panic set in his eyes. Likely, he knew if he ran out now or reacted how he wanted to what he just witnessed, Emma could later reject him. He probably did want a Little deep down, but I also suspected he wanted a test subject far more rather than a being to love and care for. Finally, though, Emma relaxed. “I jus’ don’ know… wai… whewe you goin’?” she asked a little panicky over Vincent’s quick rise from the table. “I, uh, I need to go, Emma.” He then headed for the door in about the most panicked and yet still straightlaced fashion I had ever seen before. “Just look over the contract and let me know soon.” It was a little hilarious if not also a complete confirmation of my suspicions regarding his true purpose here. I suspected Emma would be a little upset over this one at some point, but I knew I had just saved her from a lifetime of pain and misery at some testing facility out west. Miss Tully soon entered and seemed a little perplexed. “I just saw Vincent leaving. He seemed so nice and…” I could see her nostrils flare up. “Oh, I see. Did someone make a mess? Does someone have a mushy tushy in here?” Emma just giggled back as Miss Tully came over, checked, and then lifted us both out and over to the Burrows room to get changed. It was peaceful there and I guessed that the Meadows room was likely crowded and may have been viewed as too big of a risk of overstimulating Emma today. I knew that the whole staff was pulling for her to find a caregiver today, and I guessed that none of them wanted to be responsible for even the possibility of upsetting her and throwing the last interview off. As Miss Tully proceeded to change the destroyed diaper about Emma’s lower half, I was right there with her as she held me close to her chest and played with my ears as she usually did lately. I didn’t mind, and I was too engrossed in my own thoughts to care even if I usually did mind. See, I realized with some degree of panic, that the next interview was our last. If it failed as well, Emma was likely going to have to choose between three bad options or possibly be seen by the community as a problem Little. Not only could it hurt her future adoption options, but the case against Nancy could be in jeopardy as well as the pro-Big movement supporting her could use it as evidence that Emma was the problem… not Nancy. Changed and still happy, to my relief, Emma toddled and was escorted back into Mrs. Gillies’ office where she was waiting. “Hello, Emma. I just wanted to stop in to say good luck with the next adoptee, but also that it isn’t just one. They’re a couple. Is that okay?” Emma just nodded her head and allowed herself to be placed back in the highchair. For me though, a couple could spell potential disaster. Now, I had nothing against couples in general, but I always hesitated with them a little bit whenever a Little was with them. Due to a number of wars and viruses in the last 80 years or so, much of Big society had been reduced down to single women. Fertility issues and a lack of men were hard obstacles to navigate around, so couples were rare. Unfortunately, because of their rarity, while it did make them a strong pairing more often than not, it could be dangerous for a Little. While a Little had no say technically with a Big, there was at least something to be said of when arguments were between just one Big and their Little. A few sympathies for the poor dears and an argument could swing in their favor, but with couples, the Little would almost always be outnumbered. This wasn’t a dealbreaker, but I had seen a couple hurt Littles often when the Big’s ideologies were always thrust on them. So, with a great deal of hesitancy on my part, I braced as the couple walked in. To be honest, both seemed a little nervous and sat down opposite of both of us. The woman had large frizzy red hair, wore glasses and a purple cardigan, and seemed to look like she was actually dreading today. The man seemed clean-cut with his stylized haircut and casual but professional clothes but almost shy as well. They seemed perfectly normal and almost a little underwhelming, but at the same time I saw something on their faces, lingering behind the masked expressions they currently wore, hope. Not hope of a power trip or a new lab rat, but the hope that Emma wouldn’t tell them ‘no.’ The man spoke first. “Hello, Emma. I’m, uh, oh gosh darn it. I’m already bumbling this up. I’m sorry Emma,” he stumbled along. He then took a breath and recollected himself. “Sorry, I’m Jimmy,” he finally made out with a large infectious grin. “And I’m Lilly,” his wife piped up. “Sorry about how we’re acting. Just a little nervous is all.” At first, I thought Emma was just going to outright reject them, but instead I gratefully saw her empathetic side come to the front. “Dass okay… I’m ner… nervuss too.” Lilly smiled in a way I had seen so many other times before on other Bigs who seemed to see beyond just the cute Little before her. Her smile almost seemed to say, ‘finally… a Little who seems unbroken but that also looks like who could use my help.’ She leaned in and smiled even wider. “There’s no need to be, Emma. We just wanted to meet you today.” “That’s right,” Jimmy agreed. I could see both were recognizing the barrier that Emma had been putting up around the most recent Bigs she met lately. I’d imagine it was probably still the aftermath from Nancy, but then I saw James look right at me, still cradled in her arms. “So, who’s your friend there?” Emma seemed to glow a little at his question and held me up a bit so they could see me better. “His name’s Patsch,” she said proudly. “What a wonderful name,” Lilly beamed. “He seems like he must be a good friend to you.” Emma quickly nodded but then seemed a little sad. “He is… he’s been dere fo’ me fo’ a wong time. He doesn’ wet me down…” Both Lilly and Jimmy looked at each other with concern and I worried that Emma had just shown her cards too early to this already nervous couple. There were other Littles out there who had gone through less and I could feel our chances slipping away. To my surprise though, both then clasped their hands together and looked back at Emma with only sympathy. “Emma… we know about Nancy,” Jimmy began. “We’re very sorry for what she did to you.” Lilly quickly nodded in agreement. “We just want to assure you that would never happen with us. We just want to find a Little we can adopt, and then we came across you and just had to meet you in person.” Emma hugged me once more and rocked back and forth a little bit like she was figuring out a massive, complex equation in her head. I knew that was practically impossible, but after a moment, I really wasn’t sure she was going to say. She then looked at both across the table, still nervous and yet hopeful, and asked a single question. “Why you wan’ to adop’ me?” The question was straightforward, but it was by no means simple. I hadn’t produced a single influencing message to her since Vincent left, so this question was all her own. I guessed that with Nancy being brought up, I shouldn’t have been surprised though that Emma would now want to judge her own caregiver to be better. I couldn’t blame her. Both Jimmy and Lilly seemed hesitant to speak, and even conferred with each other for a moment, but Jimmy then spoke up first. “We’ve been trying to have kids for a while now, Emma. Always wanted them, but…” He then trailed off. “But I was told I could never have them,” Lilly burst out, Jimmy holding her hand tightly and stroking her back in support. I could see the pain and knew it was a still too often occurrence in Big society. Besides their technology, I felt it was one of their overall few redeeming qualities in why I didn’t just write them off as a stain on the universe with how they treated Littles. After that, I could see Jimmy see that Lilly needed a minute. I was guessing that the news was likely still fresh. “See, Emma, we feel we just have so much to give someone who needs a little help and maybe a little love. We saw your ad in the news the other day and we just had to meet you in person.” Emma’s mind was still a little fragile and sluggish from her emotional breakdown last week and her subsequent dosages of Tabers milk. While it was technically out of her system now, I knew its effects could linger for much longer. As such, Emma just sat in her highchair and took in all that they were saying. Now, to me, so far, they were just showing all green flags in my book. They seemed like a nice couple who just wanted to give out their love to someone who needed it. While other societies may have opted for a dog or some other pet, this society almost always went the way of adoption. Unlike the other two caregivers we had met today though, I felt no malice in or greed with their actions. After a moment, Lilly seemed to be able to compose herself and spoke back up. “I know all this is probably a lot for you to take in right now, Emma. We don’t expect an answer from you today even… in fact, I’m not sure we would take you out of here even if we wanted to.” Jimmy nodded. “I know it may sound strange as compared to other Bigs you might have met, but we want you to be comfortable and make a decision based solely on what you want. We want you to have all the facts and don’t want to force you into any of this.” Emma seemed almost overwhelmed, but then she suddenly gripped me even tighter. “You don’ wan’ me… I’m bwoken…” she said mournfully. Her words shattered my heart, and from their expressions, I could tell Jimmy’s and Lilly’s as well. I feared this might happen after the whole incident with Nancy and her manipulative ways. Littles often had to process so much and at one point, if they ever recalled all that they went through since their old life and had now subsequently lost, these types of sentiments often bubbled to the surface. For anyone listening, it was devastating to hear it said aloud and in person. “No, Emma,” Jimmy then said defiantly. “You are not broken. You’ve been through a lot, but that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re damaged either. It just means you have a past… a story. We all have those.” Lilly nodded. “He’s right, Emma. We don’t think you’re broken at all. In fact, everything we keep hearing about you is just nothing but praise.” Lilly paused for a moment. “Actually, I’ll say this right now just so you know our stance on this. If you’re willing to give this whole thing a try with us as your potential caregivers, then so are we. No worries, judgements, or anything like that, okay?” Emma seemed completely overwhelmed by all that was being told to her, but just nodded. It was a lot to take in for a normal well-adjusted person, but for Emma… I would imagine it was like living in darkness and finally finding that single ray of bright light after so long before. A few seconds later, all fully primed and emotional from the day, I saw Jimmy lean over to Lilly and whisper something in her ear. I couldn’t hear what it was, but Lilly only nodded back enthusiastically. With a smile and some hesitancy, Jimmy looked back at Emma. “Emma? We want to leave this up to you, and it could be too much, too fast, which in that case tell us, but… do you want a hug?” There was a moment of silence and Lilly quickly added, “But it’s totally okay if you don’t! We just want you to be happy and I know a hug usually makes me feel better. So, what do you think? Are you up for a hug maybe from us?” I could see Emma contemplate the offer for a moment, but she ultimately nodded. Jimmy and Lilly started to approach her, but Emma then held out her hand to stop them. “Buh’ onwy if you incwude Patsch in da hug as well. He’s my fwiend…” Jimmy and Lilly seemed shocked, but then just chuckled and nodded. “Of course, Patch will be included in the hug,” Lilly said, coming closer to Emma’s left side. “After all,” Jimmy continued as he approached from her right side, “we wouldn’t want someone so important to be left out of our hug together, would we?” Emma seemed to swell with emotions as the two closed in on both sides, not out of some evil plan to attack her from two sides, but to hug her. It wasn’t even some power trip or some such nonsense but instead born out of a genuine caring over Emma’s well-being. She was sad and the two Bigs just wanted to make her feel better. To say the least, with everything I saw, it was quite refreshing. As the four of us all tangled ourselves into a massive hug, Lilly even leaning down a little further to ensure I was included as well, I felt a shift in something within me. As Emma said my new name, Patch, out loud to Jimmy and Lilly, it felt so permanent and just… right. I had been feeling inclined toward the name for some time now, but I still felt like a Dash. As I left the repair shop and encountered my other models in the Dash series though, the feeling of a stronger attachment to the name ‘Patch’ only became stronger. I was still who I was body wise as I began this journey, but Dash felt like the hallmark of an old life. It was a reminder of better times at first, but now, it was just a name of shame for me in what I used to do to helpless Littles like Emma. Additionally, I felt that both Jimmy and Lilly were just who Emma needed to move beyond what had happened with Nancy. Nervous, awkward, and just ordinary people, but good as well. Of course, I would leave it up to Emma to be the final decider, but I knew that I at least wouldn’t have to influence her away from them. Even then though, Emma seemed like she didn’t want to let go of the hug, so I felt I could almost see the possibilities of what lay in store for the future now. My point being though, if Emma chose them, I would be taken with her to her new home. I wasn’t sure Jimmy or Lilly were local or not, but I felt perfectly fine with whatever future as long as Emma was in it with me. If that was to come to pass though, I would have passed the final marker in truly becoming her stuffy, and as her stuffy, I felt she had the right to name me whatever she pleased. I thought I would feel more of a loss when this moment came, but as we all embraced with the possibility of a better life together on our minds, I felt confident that I had done my job in all this. Emma would find the life she always deserved, and I knew I had found my Little that I was always meant for. And so, from that moment on, I knew two things; I was Emma’s stuffy, and my name was Patch.

Chapter 5 The cafeteria was abuzz with the excited conversation of all of the speakers, mingling in their cutest party dresses or outfits for the momentous occasion. All nibbling on the various small snacks and sweets that had been lovingly prepared by the listeners and even some of the speakers who were still proficient at cooking. The last speaker had finally made contact with Cas Lo Cho Thoth. One of the church's long term goals had been accomplished and everyone was celebrating. The speaker of the hour, Ai, was stuck in a play pen toward the back of the cafeteria, the only other speaker sitting with her was Aya. Both of them were too small to be allowed the dresses and rompers of their peers so instead they were put in onesies, Ai’s white and decorated with fairies and Aya’s a light blue with stars. “Sorry you gotta spend the party in the play pen,” Aya said over her star decorated pacifier. “It’s all right,” Ai said with an accepting sigh. She stood up briefly to stack a soft felt block on the top of an already sizable stack of felt blocks. “Maria seems pretty eager to get me in for follow up questions,” Ai plopped back down on her bottom. “You caused quite a stir apparently,” Aya grabbed another felt block. “Marquis was a little shook up about it.” “Maria still hasn’t told me what I answered with.” “It is her first time,” Aya nodded. “She’s still gotta get used to how you answer things. We’re all a little different, you know. Even if all the listeners can get the gist of what we’re saying, you’re not gonna know the specifics without studying us personally.” Ai stuck her tongue out as she tried to carefully place the block on top of the stack without knocking it over. “I dunno maybe,” Ai was not convinced by Aya’s theory. She felt like Maria knew what she said, but something was keeping her tight lipped about it. She had been noticeably more antsy lately. “You guys want some finger sammies,” Wendy approached the playpen with a plate full of finger sandwiches in tow. She was in what was basically a maid’s dress, only shorter to deliver the obvious look at the diaper underneath that all of the Speaker’s clothes did. The red dress and apron complete with matching headband was probably a special request from Wendy though, and she brought it out for the party. “One sec,” Aya held a finger out to Wendy as she gingerly placed her block on top of the stack. Beaming when the tower remained steady. “Do you have questions soon too Aya?” Wendy asked. “Nope just didn’t want Ai feelin lonely,” Aya took several of the small sandwiches. “She likes playing baby,” Ai teased. “I suppose it can be fun at times,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “But we don’t get that many parties, so I’m gonna make the most out of it.” Wendy paused to sniff the air as a familiar smell wafter to her. “One of you needs a change.” Aya blinked for a moment. “Is that me or you Ai?” “That’s me,” Ai blushed slightly, though her reaction was much more muted than what she would have had when she first arrived here. “Can you really not tell Aya?” “Oh I can,” Aya smirked. “But it’s cute when you admit it like that.” Ai frowned and tossed a block at the stacked tower knocking the careful construction to the ground. Aya pouted and plopped on her bottom. The exchange elicited a giggle from Wendy. “I’ll go get Maria for you Ai,” Wendy said. She paused for a moment before leaving. “I probably need my diaper checked too,” she thought out loud. “Anyway see you two later.” Wendy skipped away from the play pen, and over to the window on the opposite side of the cafeteria. It looked into the kitchen, like what you might see at a diner. She sat her tray of sandwiches down on the counter and looked into the window. A group of speakers were in the kitchen, Maria included. “Maria,” Wendy called into the kitchen in a singing voice. “Ai could use a diaper change.” “I’ll get to it in a minute Wendy,” Maria called back, shooing the speaker along. Her gaze turned back to Kenzō and Marquis, the other two listeners in the kitchen with her. They were both going over a piece of paper with serious expressions. “And you’re sure you translated this right?” Kenzō asked. “I mean you haven’t had the time to pick up on Ai’s dialect fully.” “I thought it might be wrong too,” Maria admitted. “But I’ve been over the recording several times. It can’t be anything else.” Maria had circled several sections of the paper that she deemed particularly important. One of the circled questions was: “Why do the speakers have to wear diapers?” The answer was translated as: “It was not my intent, but the Chariot wanted it.” An immediate follow up question to this was also circled: “Who is the Chariot?” The answer: “The Chariot is the Chariot.” Another circled question: “Why couldn’t Ai talk to you before now?” The answer was again cryptic: “The Chariot kept the Magician from me. I did not know her.” Once again an immediate follow up question of: “Who is the Magician?” was met with the simple but unhelpful: “The Magician is the Magician.” The group of three listeners were pondering over these answers. “Have you sent these off to the Clergy?” Marquis asked. “Of course,” Maria answered quickly. “They think I’ve mistranslated. It goes directly against what Cas Lo Cho Thoth has told us before. But I know my translation is right.” Maria said with conviction. “Who is the Chariot is my question,” Kenzō breathed heavily. “Cas Lo Cho Thoth has never been this vague. Especially when we ask so directly like that.” “Whoever The Chariot is, they were able to keep it from doing what it wanted,” Marquis chimed in. “They may be able to get it to hide their identity as well.” “I have one thought,” Maria spoke up. “When I asked about Ai I think it was calling her the Magician. Which makes me think that the Chariot may be a speaker too.” “That’s a bit of a leap,” Kenzō crossed his arms. “I dunno,” Marquis shrugged. “It makes sense to me.” “Maybe we should come back to this,” Kenzō sighed. “I need some time to think on this, and your listener needs a change,” Kenzo nodded to Maria. “I’d wager ours do as well.” The listeners all dawned some smiles as they went out to their charges. As they left the kitchen they bumped into a speaker wearing a fluffy white and red dress decorated with roses. “Sorry Bala,” Marquis apologized with a smile as the listeners moved past her. Bala barely paid attention to them, she had a lot more on her mind. She had been eavesdropping on the listeners ever since they snuck off into the kitchen. Bala had been eager to know what answers Ai was giving ever since she found out she had successfully made contact. She was never supposed to, and there was no telling what Ai would tell them. As Bala was listening though, her worst fears became reality. Ai had all but let the cat out of the bag. At least Bala’s actual name wasn’t dropped, but it wouldn’t take the listeners long to figure out who the Chariot was. She couldn’t stay here if they figured that out. If they figured out that she had lied to them. Lied about who Cas Lo Cho Thoth was, and lied about needing to do all of this to get their questions answered. That was a big lie. Lying wasn’t something good girls would do, and Bala couldn’t bear to live in a world where she couldn’t be a good girl any more. Bala glanced over to the play pen. Ai and Aya were being changed next to each other in the play pen, a small crowd of onlookers gathering much to Ai’s embarrassment. Bala wished that could be her. Getting that kind of cooing attention from her caregiver and her friends, fully submitting to the life of a baby girl, and that steeled her determination. Getting Aya to realize exactly what she was should be enough to get doomsday started. Bala waited for Ai and Aya to finally finish being changed and for the crowd to disperse, before solemnly approaching their playpen. “Glad you decided to enjoy the fun, Bala,” Aya said, noticing Bala approach. “I’m not here to enjoy the fun,” Bala said plainly. “The opposite, actually. I’m putting a stop to this.” “You mean the party” Aya said, still hoping Bala wasn’t about to ruin the moment. “We got permission for the party Bala, it’s ok to have it.” “I’m not talking about the party. I’m stopping all of this. It’s over.” “I don’t understand?” Aya said, confused. “You will,” Bala retorted. “You just need to be reminded of what you are. You’re the Star. Don’t you remember. You were with me in our garden at the end of the universe.” “What did you say?” Ai asked with a growing sense of dread. “I called her what she is,” Bala said plainly. “She is the Star. I’m the Chariot. You’re the Magician. Wendy is the Wheel of Fortune. Harrold the Hanged Man. Do I need to keep going or are you up to speed yet?” As Bala kept talking the mood in the room soured immensely as all the speakers turned to face Bala with a look of shock. Bala looked around at the faces staring at her. “Won’t be long now,” Bala sighed in resignation. “You you you,” Ai stammered as a wave of new memories hit her. She was pressing keys on a piano while hunting for a ghost. She was moving from bubble to bubble in a vast universe and suddenly became aware of a hole in her heart with the name of Rin. She was living a contented life as a pet half dog half girl hybrid. She was forced into a punishment with no end by a powerful A.I.. She was shyly modeling that latest baby print diaper to the audience watching her live stream. A font of different memories from different universes flooded into her in an instant. “Bala why did you…” Ai stopped and looked at Aya whose face was even more shocked than Ai’s. Aya’s memories were just as vast and just as vivid as Ai’s, but one specific memory was claiming all of her attention. A memory from the beginning of this universe, where she shaped it with a voice whispering in her ear. A memory where she shed a part of her subconscious to answer questions and fulfill a grand design. Cas Lo Cho Thoth, the god of Thothianism was Aya. As she regained her memory, this part of herself flooded back into her and a surge of power shook her body. Ai heard an explosion off in the distance and Aya gasped as the ground started to shake. “Bala!” Ai yelled, fighting off another memory where she lived as the baby of an overbearing robot. “Why? Why are you doing this?” “Because you ruined it,” Bala pouted petulantly. “You ruined this universe. I had everything perfect. We were all here. We were all good girls. We were all happy. But you had to keep pressing. Had to keep asking your questions. I worked hard to steer Aya right, worked hard to construct this world secondhand. All you had to do was stay out of it.” “Bala you … you manipulated me?” Aya struggled with confusing emotions. The ground shook again as the continent the church was on started to lift off into space. Yet the candies in the room didn’t react. “Am I even? Did you put this,” Aya gestured to her onesie and diaper. “In my head too.” “I mean we all picked up a bit of a diaper fetish at the academy,” Bala looked away shyly. “I just … brought up what was already there. It’s not really manipulation.” “Yes it is!” Aya whined, having an identity crisis. “Bala you … you.” Aya stammered and as she did a loud explosion rocked the room. In the sky above a meteor had just punched through the moon, chunks of the satellite were raining down on Earth. “I don’t understand why you’re mad?” Bala was tearing up a little. “We just had to be good little girls, you were having fun with that; you were having fun with me. Right?” “Bala you just made the Academy again!” Aya said, hoping Bala would understand. A volcano erupted in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and began spewing toxic fumes onto the world. “Why would you go back to that place? Why would you make all of us go back to that place?” “Because it could have worked,” Bala tried to explain her reasoning. “The Academy couldn’t do it right, but if I’m in charge I can make it work.” “They tortured us Bala,” Ai countered. “They tortured us for some stupid inane reason.” “But nobody tortured you here,” Bala spoke desperately. “It worked here. I knew it could work. I knew we could all be happy. It just took a little tweaking. You can see that it worked. People here were happy, it did work.” “I wasn’t happy,” Ai spat back. “I was miserable for months. No one else was really happy here either. Nobody here would have chosen this. They were making a sacrifice for the greater good.” “And you did that on purpose,” Aya said, coming to a realization. “The only reason Ai couldn’t talk to Daddy, is because I’m Daddy, and I hadn’t met her.” “You were the one doing that to me?” Ai said angrily. Before Bala could respond, a river of fire cut through the floor of the room, and for a split second it looked as if Bala might have been cut in half, but she walked out the fire as if nothing had happened other than her clothes being burned off. “Because I knew you would be selfish,” Bala continued as fire spread in the room they were in. “I knew you would question everything. That you would break my perfect system again.” “I’m selfish?” Ai said furious. “You’re the selfish one. All I wanted was to be happier. Nothing about the system would change except I’d be happier. We’d all be happier if we weren’t forced to wear diapers all the time. You’re selfish, Bala. Instead of giving people leeway, instead of letting them be free and happy, you’d rather burn the whole thing to the ground.” The roof started to collapse on top of Ai but instead of crushing her it just hovered ominously above her head before disintegrating into a colorful stream of particles. “Because I need to be a good girl!” Bala said fanatically. “Says who, Bala?” Aya offered. “I’m telling you that you don’t need to be stuck as an adult baby. You can move on.” “You just don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bala dismissed Aya. “I am literally god!” Aya’s voice emanated from every point on the globe at once. “You are but you obviously need guidance,” Bala picked up the felt blocks in the playpen Aya and Ai were playing with earlier. “That’s why the Academy picked me. I’ll guide you to the perfect world, a world where everyone will be happy and I’ll be a good girl.” As she talked, the felt blocks still in the playpen merged into one ball of light before resolidifying into a metal sphere, which Bala casually held under her arm. “Bala this is pointless,” Ai pleaded with the girl. “A whole universe is gone, just because you didn’t have your way, and you’re just going to do it again?” “And I’m going to keep doing it, until it’s perfect. Until we’re all happy.” “The Academy fucked you up Bala,” The pacifier clip on Ai’s onesie to morphed into a cloud of light before resolidifying as a marker like object made from the same metal as Bala’s ball. “But you’ve got to let this go.” “You can’t do this Bala,” Aya begged. “You literally can’t do it. You’re chasing perfection. You can’t make everyone happy. Especially not when you’re forcing them to fit your ideas.” “I can,” Bala denied flatly. The Earth at this point had finally suffered enough damage, and everything was wreathed in fire as its core rapidly expanded and the atmosphere disappeared. The room full of Candies remained on their piece of land, now floating loose in space, seemingly unphased by the literal end of the world. “I have to. That’s what they told me to do, and I’m a good girl. Unlike some of us.” The sun went supernova and a rapidly expanding ball of blue fire lit up the otherwise empty void of space. “Bala,” Ai sighed in defeat. The whole universe was collapsing, this one was already doomed. Starting over from here was a forgone conclusion, but it all seemed so wasteful to Ai. A whole universe out just gone, and this would continue again and again. All because Bala, an angry and confused child didn’t get exactly her way. Because she was stuck trying to chase a perfection that would never achieve. Ai had to marvel at the irony of it all. They were the arcana: demigods, or the closest thing to it; yet even they were victims. Caught up in a literal endless cycle of abuse started by a group of regular people. By one specific person in this case. Maria was probably space dust at the moment, but no doubt she would be back in the next version of reality. “Not that you’ll listen to me, but I’m going to ask anyway.” Bala was busily turning various parts of the Source in her hand. It clicked and whirred with each one. “Pretty please, don’t fuck the next one up. For the sake of the universe please just accept your fate.” “Be a baby forever or you’ll blow up the universe,” Ai scoffed. “What wonderful options.” “It is to me,” Bala shrugged as she finished toying with the Source. “I’m going to do it again.” Ai said doggedly. “I’m not going to stop. I'm going to keep questioning no matter what you cook up.” “Well then I guess I’ll see you at the end of the next universe, and we’ll do this song and dance again.” Bala smiled. With a final series of turns Bala slammed a button down on the Source, and in an instant everything ended.

I am coping with a relapse from about five days ago from a gi virus of some sort. I really can't and don't want to tell you what kind of shape my morning Tykables Animooz diaper is in, but to be safe I am sitting on a disposable pad. For me, my potty regrets have been when I have to use the big boy potty rather than my diaper. However, This messy diaper is the only messy diaper I have ever regretted, nuclear.

Some one asked how talk Avery was, 5ft tall and Darlene is 6'2". Chapter 20 - Wet and Humiliated The entire drive to Target, which was about 15 miles down the freeway on an Interstate, always seemed congested, even when it wasn't around quitting time. She hated the drive but had time to think as she played calming music. As she drove, Darlene played over and over in her head what happened that day. She couldn't believe John's reaction to Avery just because he figured out something John couldn't. Instead of praising him and helping coach him so they could take credit together, John decided his best course of action was to discredit him and scare him into either confessing his guilt or quitting. The vitriol on his face as he stared at Avery made her nervous. She knew better than to see it coming, but she saw the anger and hatred brimming from him like two new volcanoes on an island before a tsunami hit and wiped out everything. She wasn't sure what the endpoint for John was. But she did know that she saw such anger and hatred in John's eyes that she wasn't sure what would happen to him. And Avery didn't even try to defend himself. He cowered, quivered, and resembled a scared little puppy afraid to move. He would have taken all the verbal and possibly physical abuse she imagined showering down on him without fighting back. She couldn't imagine being like that. She never backed down, no matter how hard the fight was, whether it was with other inmates in jail or just life in general. Her personality, her experiences in jail, and her fighting spirit only made her stronger - made her who she was today. What would drive someone to accept such abuse? When she arrived at Target, Darlene took out her iPhone and texted Avery. "I am here; I should be back in about 20 minutes." There was a long pause as she walked in and headed for the men's clothing section. She walked to the sporting clothes section to look for some sweatpants. She found them and started to sort through the many types of clothing racks. Darlene figured he wore a size medium as his waist size was thirty-two from the pants she had taken off him. It didn't take her long to pick out a light gray pair of sweatpants. The sweatpants were light gray and made of material that was not too heavy or thick. They would be comfortable but durable, probably better than the pants Avery had ruined, if she were honest. He didn’t exactly have a great sense of style. As she was walking towards the self-checkout line, she caught a sale on t-shirts. One was a dark brown grayish with The Mandalorian and baby Yoda on it. It was cute but still masculine enough. The T-shirt felt soft and comfortable. The material felt light and airy, not heavy or thick. It was the perfect thickness for the summer heat but not too light for the fall weather. She hadn't seen any of the Mandalorian episodes but knew it was very popular in her department, and what young man doesn't like Star Wars? Besides, Darlene had noticed the shirt he was wearing was wet a little in the front when she was diapering him. He didn't need to stay in a wet t-shirt. She picked up a large T-shirt, thinking it was better to go a little large than a little small. Darlene hoped this might put a smile on his face after the incident. A light chuckle bubbled up from her throat as she was checking out. She would've never expected herself to be doing this today - going to those extreme lengths for someone who didn't directly work under her. However, she knew very well that the personal lives of her employees could affect their work lives, and she did what was necessary to make sure her department thrived. In the past, she had done everything, even delivering meals when someone was under the weather—babysitting for single mothers or those going through divorces, helping with wedding preparations, and more. Now, she could add changing the diapers on a young man and buying him clothes to the list. She texted Avery when she got in her car. "I am heading back. Should be there in 15 minutes." It wasn't long before she even exited the parking lot; she got a text back. "Good, I am ready to get out of here." Initially, Darlene drove on the freeway at a reasonable speed for the time of day, but then, suddenly, everything came to a stop. Her car didn't move for 5 minutes. "Shit, traffic was at a complete standstill." She thought to herself. Then she heard sirens. Police, two ambulances, and a fire truck. "This couldn't be good," she thought to herself. Darlene texted Avery back. "Avery, I am going to be late. I don't know how long this will take. I am at a complete standstill on the freeway. There is no nearby exit. I will be there as soon as possible." What Darlene didn't know was that Avery needed to go to the bathroom again as he drank a whole bottle of water while she was gone. He had been holding it already. He prayed he could wait. He waited 30 minutes after getting the text she was running late before Avery texted back. "How close are you? I need to go to the bathroom. I can still hear people outside your office." The text sounded panicked to Darlene. "I am still at a standstill. I see two helicopters. The crash must be wrong. It is a life flight and some smoke. I am assuming a vehicle caught on fire. I will be there as soon as I can get to the nearest exit when the traffic moves. I am sorry." Avery, on the other side, rolled his eyes. He tried to log on and look for a new book to read or a new video game to play. He did everything to try to take his mind off the need to pee. Another 30 minutes passed. "Are you almost here?" He was almost in tears. He had started pacing back and forth, doing what any mother would call “the potty dance.” "No, Avery, I am sorry. Still haven't moved an inch.." There was a long pause and no reply from Avery. She felt terrible, but she couldn't get around the traffic at all. "Avery, just use your diaper. I don't think you have much choice right now. I am so sorry." Again, there was no response. Avery had never once intentionally peed into a pull-up or diaper. He didn't want this to be his first time, but he really, really needed to go. He was now at the point where he felt he had no choice, and Darlene was no closer. He was desperate for relief, so he stood up and tried to focus on peeing to relieve the painful pressure in his bladder. At first, nothing; his body told him it wasn't right; this wasn’t the toilet. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was standing at a urinal. Slowly, he started to pee into the diaper. A feeling of relief was starting to feel good as he felt his bladder barely starting to relax, and then suddenly, he had a heavy stream of pee as he filled his diaper. He could feel the warmth spread between his crotch as his diaper got heavy and soggy. He felt the diaper begin to swell as he peed more into the diaper than he did when John scared him. His bladder ached in relief as he filled his diaper up and felt the weight of his soggy diaper droop down. He was filled with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. It didn’t matter that he had no choice. It was still a humiliating act. The diaper was so much heavier now he could feel it pulling down from his hips. Once he was done, he had no choice but to stand or sit down. Avery decided to sit down slowly, feeling the warmth of the soggy diaper push against his inner thighs and warmth even ride up towards his back a little. But to his surprise, it did not leak at all. He was relieved of this but ashamed of what he had just done. The worst part was that Darlene was going to see him. He couldn't just run home now in just a diaper. He was just grateful that no one had walked in on him. It was another thirty minutes before Darlene heard back from Avery. "No need to rush." Darlene knew what that meant, and she felt her heart sink a little. She felt sorry for the poor guy. But she also realized he did not have another spare diaper. She really still needed his help moving the furniture to the garage for Goodwill to pick up. Darlene remembered she still had the email where Avery tried to access the website with the diapers and other items. She had time, so she took her personal phone and logged onto the website. She needed to purchase him some more diapers. She saw all the different kinds, many looking like infant diapers with baby or toddler designs but sized for an adult. She just wanted thick white diapers. She scrolled through and found a pack of white diapers that read max absorbency. She added a pack of 12 diapers to her list. Traffic still wasn't moving. Before she checked out, she saw a bunch of cute onesies. She thought about how when she babysat, the onesies help hold the diaper close to the babies. A simple, plain onesie would help Avery hide his diaper during the day. She wasn't sure if they would have such a simple thing, but she searched through the inventory and came across some plain-colored onesies and found a white one. She quickly ordered a large onesie for him, just to make sure it wouldn't be undersized. She wondered what else he might need, and then she remembered his horrible diaper rash. She added DESITIN Daily Defense Cream, which read "forms a protective layer on your baby's skin to soothe and relieve rash discomfort, providing relief from the first use." She quickly added other items to the order: diaper wipes and baby powder. She was afraid he would be upset with her when he saw these items, but he really needed them if he was going to get rid of the diaper rash and prevent it from coming back. As Darlene was checking out, the line was starting to move very slowly. She needed to finish her order. She quickly put her credit card information in, and for delivery, she chose one-hour delivery for an extra $50. High robbery, she thought, but he needed something. The cars in front of her slowly started to move. Before the cars started moving too fast, she texted back to Avery. "I'm finally moving. Don't worry, I still have a plan for us to enjoy the evening." The last forty-five minutes were the longest to be in the office alone, sitting in a wet diaper and shirt. He couldn't even do research on the computer for either work or looking at books to read or video games to play. He felt ashamed of himself even though this wasn't his fault. Suddenly, Avery heard the door begin to unlock. He started to panic and wanted to hide behind something, so he went and sat quickly behind Darlene's desk and scooted up so only his shirt could be seen. He was afraid it might be the janitors for the night to clean Darlene's office. He was quickly relieved when Darlene came in carrying a plastic target bag. "Oh, thank god it is you," Avery said. "Who did you think it was?" Darlene looked at Avery sitting in her seat. She didn't say anything. Usually, she didn't like people sitting in her chair. That was a strange quirk about her. That was her chair and only hers. She was going to let it pass. Avery had too much to deal with today to let her rant about some weird quirk of hers. She just hoped he wasn’t leaking on her office furniture. Darlene placed the target bag down on the desk and got out. "I got you these sweatpants." She pulled them out. "They should fit you pretty well. They feel like they will be really soft and comfortable." Darlene handed them to Avery. He quickly stood up to put on his sweatpants. Darlene couldn't help but notice how much his diaper had swelled and looked full. The blue stripe down the middle was completely gone. He really did have to go, she thought to herself. She tried her best not to show an emotional response to that. Avery picked up that she saw how much he wet his diaper, and it was drooping down a little from the weight of the pee. He quickly slid on the sweatpants. They did fit perfectly—a little too perfect because there was a definite bulge in his pants with the diaper so full. "Oh, I also got you something I hope you will like," Darlene said in a perky voice like she was proud of herself. "I got you this T-shirt to go with your sweatpants." She pulled out a dark brown-grayish Mandalorian T-shirt with baby Yoda. You probably want something else to wear, and I took a wild guess you like Star Wars and the Mandalorian show that everyone talks about here in my department. Avery was shocked; he had mixed emotions. In one way, he felt like she was trying to dress him, which he didn't like; it just added to the humiliation right now. In another way, he was appreciative of all her help. She didn't have to do all this for him. If it were another time, he would be more appreciated. "Thank you, Darlene. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it." Darlene could tell he wasn't super happy about the T-shirt. "Do you not like Star Wars and the Mandalorian?" There was a pause. "Yes, I like Star Wars. Who doesn't? But I have never seen The Mandalorian. I don't have access to Disney and all the shows. I only stream content that is for free and doesn't require a monthly service fee." Avery said. Darlene could see that he was either disappointed he hadn't seen it or embarrassed he didn't pay to stream shows. She sort of forgot he is fresh out of college but would have thought a college student would have found friends to share access with. She didn't want to ask at this point. "Well, maybe we can change that sometime." She walked behind the desk as he was standing, and she started to reach out to take his shirt off, then she stopped herself, reminding herself he was a grown man. Darlene then handed him the T-shirt. "Here, you can put this on, and we can go." As Avery slipped out of his T-shirt, he was aware that it was past 6:00 p.m. He knew he promised he would help Darlene with the furniture tonight, but he needed to get home to change out of his diaper, and the bus had stopped for the night. "I am sorry, Darlene, to ruin the evening, but could you please take me home? I sort of, well, you know, need to address me. I mean, change out of what I am wearing." Darlene knew what he was talking about, but he had no idea that she had already taken care of that. "Look, you don't need to go home. I got you covered for the night. I really do need your help. I have Goodwill coming tomorrow, and my sisters are busy. I have procrastinated too long for moving the furniture down." Avery didn't understand what she had done to have this supposedly taken care of. He thought about it. He could go to her house, toss the diaper, and command style and still be able to help her. "OK, let's hit the road," Avery said a little tentatively.

Thanks for the update, your writing is excellent. Maybe I have just missed it in the story, are Emily and Joyce lovers? Or are they just mother/little girl relationship. Emily mentioned getting handsy in these last chapters, otherwise I keep waiting for some passion to show, maybe it is just in the background and not part of the story so far.

I was asked to re-post this - and was flattered - here's chp's 1-3 Mary Had a Little Lamb My office message light was blinking when I returned to the office; I punched in my code, and my boss’ voice came on. “When you get in, come see me, I’ve got a lead for you.” I tallied up a couple orders, submitted them for credit approval, handed in some copy instructions to the production team and headed for Frank’s office. “Whatcha got….? New car dealer want to spend 10k a month?” “I don’t know actually, this was called in and the lady asked for you specifically.” And he handed me the paper with his notes on it: Jessica Redenbacher, her phone number, and semi-vague listings of “male or female, and stress reduction.” I started to ask questions, but his cell rang, and he waved me off. I walked back to my office and sat. Call-in leads to a radio station are like scratch tickets – usually a losing venture – but you never know. Jessica Redenbacher? I pondered the name, thought “popcorn” and sighed – picked up the company phone and dialed her number. “Hello?” A bit of hub-bub of noise was muted but noticeable through the phone. “Jessica? This is Steve Anderson, from W_ _ _ Radio, I understand you asked to speak with me?” “Well yes! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, and excuse the noise, let me get to my office.” “Where are you?” “I’m at Marshall’s here at the Mall…..I’m the manager…. There that’s better.” She only hinted at what she wished to market, and we set up a time to meet at the store, before she began her day at ten. I wrapped up my day, got presentation / first-time info together for our meeting in the morning, headed out to the 99 Restaurant for a few drinks with co-workers, and that was that. Thursday broke cold and close to snow; I dressed a little sharper than usual, since I was meeting a lady who DID ask for me personally, and headed over to Marshall’s and went in through the back-bay doors as instructed. Jessica was in her office, I knocked and we met. I’d love to say she was 6’ tall, and a lingerie model. She wasn’t; Jess was about 5’5” with green / hazel eyes and brown hair, a nice “rack” in front, but her body was well on its way to plump; when she smiled broadly it was easily spotted that a molar part-way-back on the right side of her mouth was missing. “Hello! Thank you for coming, would you like some coffee?” “Sure,” and we walked to a small kitchen area, where the K-cups and coffee materials were found. “What did you wish to advertise?” “My dad gave me a pretty-good sized check for my 30th birthday and told me to “do something with my life.” So, for almost the past two-years, I’ve been working on my master’s at night in Clinical Psychology and have come up with a Series of three Relaxation DVD’s as part of my graduation project.” I groaned (silently) – I was correct – this was going to be a waste of time; maybe I can talk her out of it. “Many national companies are way ahead of you on that scale,” I sipped my coffee as we walked back, “the amount of money you would need to invest to own a top-tier share of the mind is semi-staggering.” She nodded. “How much?” Oh Christ – decision time – local-direct clients reward the HIGHEST commission rate, but also take up a LOT of time – which is usually better spent hunting down car dealers… “For an adequate share of the market in morning and afternoon drive you’d be looking at around $4,900 a week, for a minimum of sixteen weeks.” “Can you bill me weekly?” W-T-F……….? This Jessica-lady wants to plunk down around $75,000 to sell a DVD? “What is the name of this series?” “I haven’t named the series yet – but Mary Had a Little Lamb is the first DVD.” “You’re kidding me.” She nodded no. “The second one?” “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” I stared at her. “You’re still not kidding are you…” She again nodded no, and continued to look at me. “And the third – is what? Three Blind Mice?” She smiled that one-tooth-missing-grin, and said “it’s called “Old McDonald Had a Farm.” “Has anyone used this, so I can I create a testimonial ad, and bring you business that way?” She nodded no again. “You want to spend five grand a week, to market a Relaxation CD-Series which you have not named yet – but whose DVD’s are called Mary Had a Little Lamb, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Old McDonald, which no one yet has tested, in February when the “resolution-solution ads” have already begun massive well-funded campaigns as of January first..??! This time she nodded yes. I know sales reps are supposed to just take the money and run – but I had to ask: “Why?” “My Dad was right – I should do something with my life, and being the manager at a Marshall’s clothing store my age isn’t it. So the degree and the DVD-success will start my climb.” “Ooookay…” So I got out the paperwork, we put together the campaign from February thru May, got a credit card number, and made an appointment to go over the copy facts with her at a later time since it was getting toward ten a.m. “Do you have a copy of the CD so I can listen to it, and take pieces off of it to create a :60 commercial?” “I do – but the Master is at the house, and can only be listened to there; I cannot possible risk losing it.” “Jess, I really don’t like to do that – I don’t know you, and you don’t know me – and it’s not a good situation for a salesperson to be in.” “I won’t be at home, and the player and disc is in the basement. You’ll be alone, and when you have enough info, just call me, and I’ll come back to lock up.” Against my better judgment I said “okay” and, I took the address and agreed to meet up with her tomorrow morning at 8:00 in Lincoln. “If this credit card doesn’t go thru, I will need cash.” She nodded, and I went back to the station counting up my ten percent(!!!) commission on the $78,400 order I just signed. The credit card went thru and my day was very grand indeed. KA-ching. Her house was a one-story with an almost finished basement where a new recliner and new sofa, still covered in plastic faced an okay sized older TV; the carpet looked and smelled new, and two doors and an open entry way interrupted the sheet rocked walls. The drop-ceiling looked new, and the painting was about two-thirds done. Against one wall was a table with Diet Pepsi bottles, and a partially finished jigsaw puzzle. The DVD and the case, and the remote controls were on the coffee table in front of me, along with a pair of earphones. “Didn’t know I needed to bring my cans,” and I grinned. “Cans?” I pointed at the headset – “in my business, we call those “cans” and every jock has his or her own set; I used to be on air, back in the day.” She smiled, and nodded, “I remember.” I stopped – and looked. She nodded again, and smiled, “you were great.” Pause. “Unless you worked the third shift, or a kook, you should have been asleep – like ninety percent of the city was.” I unpacked; pen, notebook, snack, lap-top and cell phone, removed my coat and looked at her. She jotted down her phone number on my notebook and said, “Call me if you need anything, and please let me know when you are finished.” I nodded, and with that she walked upstairs, closed the door and was then gone. I flipped the DVD cover around, and it was nothing earth-shattering; no notes, no reviews, no comments, just Mary Had a Little Lamb, 37 Minutes, and Relaxation for mind and body. One hour tops…and I’m outta here. I put on the DVD player, walked over to the unit, put in the disc, walked back to the sofa, brushed some dust and paint chips off the plastic cover, sat down, hit play, put on the cans, picked up paper and pen, and waited. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and … The screen came on and the song continued, and I watched, and listened. The clock on the player said 8:49am; my paper was blank, and the pen was still in my right hand, and the sofa was warm from my body heat when I woke up. What the hell? This tape is soooo boring that I dozed off? Shit – this isn’t going to be a winning ad at all… I sat forward on the sofa, jotted down Mary had a little lamb?… stopped writing, hit play again, and looked at the screen and looked for copy points…and the song began again… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and… It was now 9:34; I rubbed my lips, took off the headphones and looked at my notebook – nothing except the lyrics and the word which looked like “water.” Disgusted I walked over to the table, took a Diet Pepsi, unscrewed it, (lots of caffeine maybe??) and shook my head. I went to my cell, answered the two calls that had come in since eight a.m., and sat back down with a grumble. Got everything set again, put the Pepsi in my left hand took a big swig, swallowed, looked at the pad of paper on the table, leaned over the pad, hit play and con-cen-trated… At 10:29 the Pepsi bottle had dribbled on the carpet a bit, my lips were again wet, I got up, put the bottle down, wiped my cheek, and made my way to the three doors to look for a bathroom. Door one was a furnace room with boxes, bags, and water heater too. The open doorway led into good sized room housing a washer/dryer with a laundry rack, table, lamp, and a deep whicker chair one would see on a nice patio; next to it were sewing stuff, knitting needles and yarn in a basket, on the opposite wall was a door (for this room?) on sawhorses being painted, its hardware removed; the wash room was brightened by the light streaming in from the little basement window. The third door was a bathroom in mid-plumb, and thus unfortunately not ready to use. I groaned, went back out into the basement, up the stairs and……the door at the top of the stairs wasn’t locked – but it didn’t open either. It was if something had come loose inside of it, and the knob just turned and turned and turned. S - - T!! Now what??? I went back downstairs and looked for something to pee in??!! The washroom turned up nothing but a stack of towels, various detergents, and cleaning products. No buckets, not even in the furnace room. Maybe the Pepsi bottle? Unfortunately I had to drink the entire Pepsi bottle before filling it back up again…. So I did that, and on my knees, squirting carefully into a 20-ounce plastic container, holding the head of my penis up against the bottle spout, while kneeling over a towel, I filled the bottle back up……and then it was full, but I wasn’t empty.…. I put kept my right hand on my dick to clench of the flow of urine, and gently put the bottle on the table; sighed, and knowing what-I-had-to-do-but-couldn’t-believe-I-had-to-do, picked up the towel and began to pee into that. When I had slowly wet the towel and drained myself, I put the towel on the corner of washer, got the cap to the Pepsi bottle and sealed it, and looked for a place to hide the full bottle. I found an old Stop and Shop plastic grocery bag in the furnace room, and put the bottle in that and put the bag next to the sofa to take home with me when I was through. I still didn’t know how to tell a client that I wet her towel. I looked at the DVD Case which sat on the coffee table – and in my mind - mocking me. It was about 10:50… I walked around the room… grabbed another Diet Pepsi, and answered a phone message that had beeped in on my cell, plus responded to two texts, and checked my e-mail on my phone. Why boot up the computer – nothing to freakin’ write yet…You loser… The second bottle was half drained – my stomach growled and I was upset I had only brought a snack, I should have been gone by now. I debated calling Jess, but didn’t wish to admit defeat, or question my stamina. I put the cans back on, and hit play. At 11:46 I realized I was sitting on the couch, my lips were wet, and so was my chin. At 12:39 I was sucking on my pen. And my bladder was pushing a bit again. I took the pen out of my mouth, and stared at it, clipped it to my shirt pocket. Ripped off the earphones, turned off the DVD player, and stared at the almost empty notebook paper in front of me. I wasn’t relaxed – I was kinda frustrated with my abilities. I finished the soda, and then went thru the steps again, except this time when I unzipped my fly kneeling over a new towel, and before grabbing the empty bottle I noticed something different. I was erect. Not TAH-DAH-look-at-me-erect, but a pretty good start on a chubby. I smiled, at least I wouldn’t have to move my foreskin out of the way to pee this time, and proceeded to slowly fill up the bottle, and then complete the release of urine into another towel, which I held up and around my testicles. After peeing I was supporting a very full erection. Stood up, looked at my flagpole, shook my head, put the towel IN the washer, capped the bottle and pulled up my underwear and pants, painfully zipped up, and brought the Pepsi bottle out to join its other buddy in the plastic bag. At 3:54 I had finished my third D-P, and was jumpy and edgy from sixty ounces of caffeinated soda; there were three wet towels in the washing machine, and I had small drool stains on the right collar of my dress shirt. My balls ached a bit, and I was just plain angry at the semi-waste of a Friday sales day. The only saving relief was the $78,000+ order had solidified my entire first quarter, and it was only mid January. This was going to be a banner year for old Stevie I thought. I took a break from deciphering this DVD and returned calls; one was from Jessica, wondering if everything was okay? I checked e-mails, and tried to come up with an ad outline to discuss with my client who was concerned enough to call me. By 6:27 I “woke up” from my ump-teenth viewing and the results were no different, except there were now four wet towels in the other room, and three urine-filled bottles of soda cooling in a plastic bag near my computer case. I was hungry, and very upset that no useful ideas were coming my way. I took off my earphones, clicked my “soggy pen” to my shirt, and gently stroked my penis through my dress slacks and stared at the blank TV. “Are you okay?” People usually say they “jumped a mile” – well, I didn’t jump a mile, but I was so startled I’m pretty sure I cleared the plastic-covered-sofa by a quarter of an inch. Jess was standing on the stairs behind me, looking down. I looked up, and hoped she hadn’t seen me touching myself; I covered up with a throw pillow and turned my head to look back and up at her. “Great, great, sorry I didn’t hear you come down.” I stood up, and exchanged the pillow for the DVD case; “quite a DVD you have here.” She continued down the stairs and beaming she exclaimed “oh thank you, I’ve worked on it for many months now, what kind of ad are you creating?” She powered off the TV and player. My bladder pushed some more. “Umm, Jess, can I use the bathroom?” “Sure, you know where it is.” “Uh, no – I never got there.” She stopped, looked at me, and away from the jigsaw puzzle… “What?” I explained about the door, and she apologized twice, and quickly gave me directions…I took the stairs two at a time….with Jessica following, as I turned the corner into the bathroom I heard her testing the cellar door knob over and over. My erection had calmed a bit (fear??), and I urinated and flushed, and found Jessica in the kitchen, and I sat at the counter. Her back was to me, as she was cleaning something off the stove, and I looked at her – and then out of the darkened window over the sink, on the window sill was usual items of a potted plant, a small framed photo, and a drying wishbone from some past-eaten bird, a pacifier and a baby bottle. I stared at the bottle. “Are you hungry?” Pause. “Steve, are you hungry?” She was now looking at me, and tried to follow my eyes. I looked away. “You have kids?” She made the connection, laughed and said, “no it’s my sister’s son’s stuff – they were here over the New Year, and left it behind. I keep it here as a reminder to ship it back along with a stuffed toy he left behind too, and – as you can see – I keep putting it off……” Pause. “Are you hungry?” I was, but wasn’t going to admit it, and just wanted to get home, and dispose of those three bottles of pee. “No, thanks I’m good.” She moved from the sink to the fridge, and started singing…. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and … I wanted the bottle…or the pacifier. I just wanted that rubbery nipple between my lips as if my life depended on it, but thankfully my legs didn’t give away my needs, and so like any proper sales professional I guess I took my pen and sucked on that…..because at some point I realized that Jess was staring at me, and smiling. “You okay? She grinned…. “Ya know, that’s a pretty lucky pen…” I refocused my eyes, wiped my chin, and put the pen on the table. “I’m, I’m sorry, must be a little tired. Let me go get my stuff, and get out of your way.” “Do you want to drink out of the bottle?” My head snapped around and my legs stopped from heading toward the basement door – “what?? Why would you say that?” Jess tilted her head, and said “because some people like beer out of a glass, and some don’t mind the bottle?!” And held up a Miller Lite, and again tilted her head. *Sigh* “A bottle is fine, thanks.” I went downstairs, gathered my stuff, glared at the DVD player, picked up my plastic bag of “Pepsis,” my computer, checked my coat pocket for the phone and keys, and then donned the jacket, but kept it unzipped. “I’m going to put these out in the car, and warm it up too, okay?” She nodded, held the door, and when I was done she was at leaning against the counter sipping her beer, and I rejoined her on a stool. “How did it go today? When can I make my first million?” Silence. “Jess – I got nothing, all I know is that something is making me doze off, and I’ve even drank all your Diet Pepsi, which I’ll replace.” She waved no, but I kept going, “I really think you need to get another rep, and I’ll have Tracy, or Jeff or… I only remember Jessica opening her mouth……. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and every where that Mary went, Mary went… I stared at the rubbery plastic nipples and began to suckle my Miller Lite. This time Jess was mopping my shirt and jacket with a towel, and I smelled like a brewery when I came back around. Her chest was inches from me, and I stared at her nipples, with my crotch in a very happy state. “Can you please try to tackle it one more time tomorrow? Maybe a good night sleep and another go at it? For me? For my dad’s faith in me? For my financial future??” I wiped my mouth, apologized for the sixth time, got up, prayed my coat was long enough, and said – “What the hell, do you work tomorrow?” I usually did paperwork on Saturdays, but I was pretty embarrassed. “No, I’ve tomorrow and Monday off – so you can come in any time. “I’ll be here after the gym – around nine thirty.” “And I’ll be sure to leave that basement door open, you poor man holding it that long, I’m so sorry, you should have called me.” I started to say something, thought better of it, and with that I apologized again, went out the car and noticed it was very warm, and that it had been running for about 25 minutes. Where the hell did the time go? Minutes later Jessica had found the wet towels, sniffed them and smiled, and started a wash; then went back upstairs and brought down five more towels and set them on the table. Then she sat down and began to knit; when the wash was completed she transferred them to the dryer, and moved the safety pins out of the sewing stuff, and placed them in clear view. Mary Had a Little Lamb was now close to a deep seeded cog in Stevie’s mind…but tomorrow was the key. She smiled, touched herself, and thought.. If this holiday weekend goes as planned, she’d have her deposit back in under a week, and Mr. Anderson under for a lifetime… She went up the stairs humming the nursery rhyme – making sure to keep time with the thump-thump-thump of the wet towels in the dryer. Mary Had a Little Lamb – Day 2 I made the gym at the usual time, but the work-out was anything but – I was not into my routine because my head could not comprehend what happened yesterday. Here I was one-sixty-second commercial away from a $7,800 commission check and I had only come up with Mary Had a Little Lamb, a jacket that smelled like beer, and a nice case of “blue balls.” I shaved, showered, put on jeans and a station long-sleeve denim logo shirt, and headed for Jess’ house. I brought a six-pack of Diet Pepsi bottles to replace the three I drank and my own cans – hell; something had to do the trick. At 9:53 I was back down on that now familiar couch, and Jess was off in the far corner painting the sheetrock. On the coffee table was a sports bottle of Gatorade, and there were others over next to the puzzle. I looked at her backside and groaned silently, now I’ve got an audience to see me fail. I put the DVD back in the machine, adjusted my earphones, and hit play. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb … Mary had a… It was 10:45 and I was dazed, drooling and a little confused, the sports bottle in my hand was nearly empty. I looked around the room, and she was still painting, and NOT looking my way. Thank goodness. I straightened up, walked around, and muttered to myself….and dreaded any kind of “how’s it going?” question… Jessica meanwhile dared not look at Stevie – and silently prayed about this next run through, this was make or break, so as soon as he was “under” she was going to leave the room. I walked to the Gatorade, took a new sports bottle, sat back down, gritted my teeth, and hit play… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb; little lamb … Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was… Upon hearing the sucking noise of her happy man-child Jessica put down the roller and crawled as low as she could so to not break his vision with the madly flickering TV screen and scooted up the stairs. The DVD player said 11:32, my collar was damp again, and my bladder was giving me messages. I got up, and looked for Jessica; “Jess?” I pseudo-whispered… “Are you down here?” Hearing no reply and being led by a nice erection, I ignored the stairs leading to the main floor, and thus the bathroom, silently walked to the washroom, took a clean towel off the stack, dropped my jeans and underwear around my ankles, leaned back against the wall and peed into the towel bunched up around my groin….in big thirsty spurts. I had a goofy grin on my face and a full flagpole below my waist. I stroked it lightly, then pulled up my undies and jeans re-did my belt and slowly zipped up over a good bulge. I put the towel in the washer, grabbed another Gatorade, and slinked back out to the TV, and then smiled. I WAS beginning to relax, maybe I can write this commercial after all. Ka-ching! I put on the still-warm earphones, hit play, and let Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb … take me where I wanted to go – peeing in a towel while holding it around my cock. Jessica heard the sucking and slurping sounds and crept down the stairs, and crawled to the laundry room holding her breath…..she spotted the wet towel in the washer and silently yelled out a big ‘YES’…… Crawled back thru the basement, being sure not to look at the TV screen, and went upstairs, got the baby bottle and pacifier and brought the pacifier to her bedroom and the put the bottle on the Gatorade/Puzzle table, and began to paint again. At 12:27 I stirred awake, and had a nice chubby going on, but spying Jess, I simply went to the table, and reached for a Gatorade bottle… “You know, if you try something different, the results may be different.” I looked at her, and she nodded toward the baby bottle. I shrugged and said – “nothing gained, nothing lost.” I filled the bottle from the Gatorade bottle, capped it, went back to the sofa, leaned back, spread my legs, patted my crotch and hit play. My little-man needs to be rewarded… Timing her crawl to the mid-point of the DVD where the urge to suckle was winding down and the urge for diaper-play was beginning to kick in, Jessica came over the couch, kept her head low, below his bottle and arm, but near his lap, undid the belt, zipped down the fly, and pulled the head of his penis barely above the fold of this underwear, wet her fingers and began to stroke him. Very little time passed and she felt his cock begin to expand, his breathing/sucking rate increase and then finished her masturbation thru his underwear…. smiling as Steve’s grey briefs grew very damp and warm….re-dressed him and snuck back to her painting. I woke up, and I knew something was different. I was v-e-r-y relaxed and my balls didn’t hurt anymore. Looking at Jessica’s back, I slid my left hand down and checked my underwear…it was sticky and warm, and yes – I had cum. Nice load too. I sat there thinking – After a day and a half – I was finally relaxed, and the only difference was no Pepsi, and drink out of the baby bottle. “I’m going to clean up, and get something to eat, do you want anything?” “No, I’m good – I’ve got my protein bars.” Jess took the roller and paint up the stairs and I was left alone. GOOD!! If I did something different this time, would I get another orgasm? I got up off the couch, tip-toed into the wash room, reached for another towel, this time folded it, dropped my pants and underwear around my ankles, waddled over to the wall, and brought the terrycloth up between my legs, and pinned it against the wall with my butt, pushed my stiff member into the towel, closed my eyes, and peed. If I act more like a baby would I get another orgasm…? At 3:50, Jessica, having monitored the towels in the wash go from bunched to now properly folded, awarded him with another explosion of semen; and then crawled over to the jigsaw puzzle. The DVD player said 4:02p when I smiled a goofy smile, and without checking to see if Jess was looking my way or not, put down the baby bottle, unzipped my pants a bit, and looked down on gooey underwear. Jess giggled. “Everything still there?” “Yeah, everything’s great – I think I’ve climaxed.” “That’s GREAT, you must be relaxed if your body can do that; are you ready to write my commercial?” “Ummmmmm….I think I need to study this DVD some more…” I was pretty hooked. Jess smiled and nodded. “Okay, you’re the professional. Can I fill up your bottle for you?” I nodded, and she went upstairs filled it up, and brought it back down. At a little before 6:00p, I was leaning up against the wall in the wash room, with a terry cloth diaper held in place by safety pins and peed and peed; urine dripped through the cloth and dribbled on my pants and underwear at my feet. “Hello – Steve?” Oh shit… I tugged at the diaper pins… “Steve – are down here?” She walked extra-extra slow to give him time…Jess had a good idea what was going on. I got the diaper pins undone, but pricked my left finger in the process, put the soaked towel in the wash, waddled to put the pins back and pulled up my underwear and pants when I heard her come around the corner. I was facing the little window and looking as hard as I could out to the dark night….trying to buckle my belt….. “What are you doing?” “Ahhhhhhhhhhh….trying to see if it started snowing yet – haven’t been upstairs in a while” (who was I kidding – I hadn’t been upstairs since I got here)… I strained harder to peek at anything against the street lights up and across the street. No rain or snow was visible. I turned to her, and she was smiling a small smile, and her head was tilted…as she noticed my penis area was wet and hard. I sucked my left finger, and a small taste of blood assaulted my tongue. “Are you okay, did you cut yourself?” “I’m fine” I mumbled… “I’m cooking meatloaf, are you coming upstairs?” PANIC! NO – I JUST PEED IN A CLOTH DIAPER COMPLETE WITH PINS…I NEED ONE MORE DVD VISIT – I NEED ONE MORE DVD VIEWING… I WANT TO CUM AGAIN… “Can I watch the DVD one more time?? I think I found a thread to build your commercial around…” Thread – Steve you fuckin’ genius – great word… Jessica grinned a full tooth-missing-grin, and said “no problem, I’ll have some wine and turn down the oven.” I followed her back into the basement, when she reached the glass-covered coffee table, she scooped up the empty bottle, and went upstairs…panic began to set in, until she walked back down the stairs and handed me it full of milk. “We’re outta Gatorade – you’ve been a thirsty sales rep.” Jess smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and walked back upstairs. You know – she’s not that bad looking…a few pounds off, a visit to the dentist…not that bad… Great rack… I hit play, sucked on my bottle – before the music ever started – and prayed/hoped/wanted/needed the relaxation tape to do its job on my prostate and penis…. At 7:05 I was one frustrated mother-fucker. DAMN, DAMN, DAMN... I limped/lumbered upstairs with a full bladder, and very blue balls, peed in the toilet, and sat at the kitchen counter. “Do you want a beer?” “Do you have vodka?” Jess nodded, and poured me a nice sized amount, and added ice. We ate dinner, watching Jeopardy, and Miss Redenbacher was pretty smart…by 8 or so, we made some small talk but I really wanted to go back downstairs again, and dive into Mary Had a Little Lamb, but I probably should go home. “You’ve got to work tomorrow, so I should be going, I want to thank you…..for…” Jessica picked up her phone, hit the screen and Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb…Mary had a little..... It was going on 9 when I knew I had to go to the bathroom, and Jessica was inviting me to spend the night. I went the bathroom with a nice erection, peed, flushed, washed, thought about my horniness and came out with Jess in an extra-long Peyton Manning Colts jersey. “That’s a little dangerous in Patriots country.” She grinned, “we’re from Indiana – sorry.” If I could get her to sleep I could sneak back down and watch the DVD again. Jess, I tell you what – I’ll sleep on the sofa downstairs, and you can…” “I’ve got a better idea, you sleep in your clothes on top of the comforter, and I’ll sleep in my jersey under the sheets and comforter; that way we’ll be together, but not together.” I glumly agreed, and I borrowed a toothbrush, brushed, took off my shoes and belt and laid down on the left side of the bed. And thought of peeing in towels. Jess got in under the covers, killed the lights, said goodnight, and leaned over and to do something on her nightstand. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb … Jess waited for ten or twelve seconds, felt Stevie begin to thrash around looking for his bottle, scooted up further on the pillows, reached over with her left arm, pivoted him onto his side facing her, hiked up her jersey, and guided his mouth to her left breast; She leaned her head back against the headboard and soaked in the wonderful feelings coursing through her body; she gently kissed the top of Steve’s head as his suckling became a content and steady pattern. As the tingles in her body continued, she reached down with her right hand, found a very happy penis and stroked it through his jeans. It was 11:30 my balls ached, I had a wet spot on my shirt and my bladder was kinda full. I carefully got out of the bed, went by the bathroom, headed downstairs guided by nightlights; and spotted the washroom entry-way dimly lit by the street lights or the moon coming through the window. Scared to be caught, but too horny to care, I grabbed the last remaining towel, got two pins out of the plastic tray, went over to the wall dropped my pants and stained underwear to my ankles, folded the towel into a triangle, brought it up between my legs and her hand touched my arm. S – - T! I froze, I started to say her name, when she reached for my hands and whispered, “Let me help you.” In a state of shock, I held one side of the terry-towel / diaper while she pinned the other, and my heart continued to race, but my penis certainly didn’t care. She came around me brushed its swelling head and pinned the other side. “If you’re going to pee, you’d better push Mr. Happy down a bit.” I did just that and leaned back against the wall…she leaned against my front and with her hands down near my groin. Her belly and breasts touched me all over. “Go ahead.” I closed my eyes, sighed, and did just that J…urine surged into the towel, and our right hands both felt the towel grow damp and warm. When I was done I had a very stiff flagpole, and she slowly slid down my legs and kneeled on my pants. Her left hand covered my right hand and joined me – as I / we lightly stroked my dick thru the towel. I made an effort to get back to the sofa, because that’s where the magic always occurred. Her right hand grabbed my knee and she shook her head. No, do it here. I want to watch.” And under the cover of almost darkness, lost in a sea of warm testicles and lust, I stroked myself, my left hand cupping a full mass of wet towel. “Aim for my mouth.” And with those words, I came. Recovering from my orgasm, I found Jess dabbing at herself with her jersey and then removing it to dab at my legs and the carpet. “I’m, I’m sorry; I just don’t know what…” She silenced me by kissing the lower insides of my legs and whispered – “let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.” My pants, shirt and cum-stained underwear, joined her equally messy garb in the washing machine; she unpinned me, and the last towel was added to the pile. She added the detergent, started the machine, and put down the pins. “Let’s go to bed.” Both naked, she led me upstairs, I started to get on top of the sheets but under the comforter, and Jess just stared at me. Realizing that I did look pretty foolish, I lifted up the top-sheet too, and slid onto a very comfortable and deep mattress. It felt wonderful, and in a sleepy / post-sexual release state, kissed her on the lips and said “I think that DVD really does work, I’ve never been so….” Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb … This time, as Stevie sucked on her left nipple, Jess rewarded herself with a powerful orgasm, and felt wave-after-wave of shivers and tingles. After a while, she reached for the pacifier, broke Stevie’s suckling, and gave him the Nuk. She donned a robe, went out thru the mudroom into the garage, popped the trunk and took out a sleeve of adult diapers and a blue diaper pail. Carried them back into the house and down into the basement. She stopped the washer in mid-cycle and placed all the diapers where the towels had been before and put away the safety pins into her sewing stuff. Wouldn’t need those anymore… On the way back thru the basement, she ejected Mary Had a Little Lamb from the player and put the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star DVD on the glass coffee table. Grabbed the other DVD box, and went back to join her man-child in bed. Standing naked at the side of the bed, the nursery rhyme still playing “his siren song” she looked down on the pacifier sucking man; felt her nipples harden again and slid into bed. Off went the speaker on the smart-phone, his sucking slowly subsided. Spooning with Steve, and very content to have this man in her bed, she didn’t even mind the nice-sized puddle of drool under her left shoulder. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star When I awoke Jess was fully dressed and the clock said 7:02. “Hey sleepy head, how do you feel? “I feel pretty good, but,” I rubbed my jaw a bit, “my jaw feels a little tender. Maybe I’ve been grinding my teeth?” I looked her over – loose clothing where needed to hide her stomach and caboose, nice shoes and panty-hose to show off her legs which weren’t bad, and a hint of cleavage and proper make-up. Her eyes danced. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” I chose the latter. “The washer started making horrible noises last night, so I stopped the cycle, and thus you’ve got no clothes to wear.” I sat up and stared. “What’s the good news?” She sat on the edge of the bed, “the good news is that I work at a major clothing store, and I will bring you home some clothes tonight.” “…and in the meantime…?” “In the meantime,” she walked to her chest of drawers and pulled out some sweatpants and jerseys; “I’m sure with my extra padding above and below the waist, you’ll have enough room to fit in these.” I groaned and nodded. She asked my sizes, and I gave them to her. “What did you think of my DVD? Can you write the ad?” I sat and pondered the question… “So far all I know is that the DVD makes me thirsty, time goes by in a blur, and if all goes right, I can end up with an orgasm.” I looked at Jess, and she nodded, and smiled – “is there a market for that?” “I’ll make it a priority.” Jess came to the bed leaned over, and I tilted my head up, and we had a soft, no tongue kiss; “I’ve got a truck to inventory, and I’m on the floor til 6:30; would you be a dear and take me out to dinner tonight when I get home?” Remembering that tomorrow was the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, I agreed. “I put your stuff downstairs, so you’re good to go. Now make me a million-dollar ad.” I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, and with that she departed the bedroom and noises were heard as Miss Redenbacher made her way thru the house, and into the garage, and was gone. I was alone. YES!! I took a shower, but finding not one bath towel in the house, I dried myself with a couple dish towels. Did the “big job,” brushed my teeth, donned a pair of sweat pants – which fit thru the waist, but were too short on the legs, and a T-Shirt from some long ago walk-a-thon. I found cereal and milk and listened to the news; checked the missed call listings and noted that Mom and Dad, and my girlfriend Lisa had called between eight and ten last night. Great, talk to them later. I put the bowl in the dishwasher and hoofed it downstairs. It was warm – very warm. Jessica must have kicked-in the electric baseboard heaters. I plugged in my cans, turned on everything, filled up the baby bottle with the blue water in the pitchers, went to the coffee table threw my notebook on the floor (Notes? I don’t need no stinkin’ notes), grabbed the DVD and cringed. Where was Mary Had a Little Lamb? I want to climax again. I looked high and low and could not find the first DVD; I scrambled for my notebook and dialed Jessica. “Steve, is everything okay?” Music was heard from the car radio. “Ummm, yeah – I, umm, No, I can’t find Mary Had a Little Lamb, all I’ve got is the Twinkle Twinkle DVD…” ess laughed, that DVD you have starts with Mary Had a Little Lamb and continues the relaxation process with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…. Okay?” (THANK GOODNESS!) “Oh, okay, okay – that’s great; see you tonight, and don’t forget my clothes.” She promised she wouldn’t and hung up. Jess put the phone back in her bag, hiked up her skirt just a bit and touched herself there. On her mental shopping list she added “one pair of pantyhose” because her cotton in-seam was soaked. Back in her basement the DVD cover was just like the previous one – except this one said VOL 2 and 62 minutes. I went thru the motions, settled onto the sofa, leaned back, sucked on my bottle, and hit play. And at 8:51 I woke up with an empty bottle, drool on my chin, a few belches and burps and the need to pee. Never thinking about going up the stairs, I marched into the washroom, and saw the diapers. That’s right – no towels. I opened the washer, and the cold dirty water stared back at me. A diaper? That’s a pretty big step. My bladder pushed some more, and my penis wanted to comment too – so thinking with the little head, and not the big one, I picked up the heavy adult diaper, pulled down the sweatpants and underwear and placed the “V” of the diaper over my erection and peed into it. I made a silly smile and giggle, and then put the partially wet diaper in the blue trash can. I waddled back to the coffee table, picked up my bottle, finally pulled up my underwear and sweats – filled her nephew’s (my??!!) bottle, skipped/floated back to the couch, put on my earphones and hit play. Maybe this time I’ll get an orgasm. It wasn’t to be – just another trip into my diaper-room, and another partially wet diaper was placed into the trash can. In the middle of my third viewing my brain was getting weird messages……you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-PEE-you-need-TO-PEE-you-NEED-TO-PEE…YOU-NEED-TO-PEE…YOU-ARE-PEEING-YOU-ARE… I refocused, the TV was blank, the bottle was empty, and I had a growing wet spot on Jessica’s pants. NO! I clamped down as best I could, grabbed my dick to stop the flow of urine, and hoofed it around the corner. Spurting some more before getting my erect dick into absorbent material, I let loose a torrid stream, and sighed. I stepped out of the sweatpants and was left with white socks and a baggy T-shirt. I looked at the diaper in my right hand. If you try something new – maybe something different will happen… I walked back into the basement – happy that it was warm, filled my bottle up with more blue liquid, put on my headphones, and sat on the diaper with the wet part under my ass and the dry part over my penis. And hit play. It was a shade before Noon and the bottle was empty, and the diaper was full. Droplets had run down so a small stream of urine was in the fold of the sofa. I gazed at it, and slowly took the T-Shirt off, picked up the soggy diaper and mopped up, grateful for the plastic that protected my client’s new purchase. My dick was very very happy. I ate a protein bar, looked at the wet diaper on the coffee table, and then at the TV. I deposited the third diaper in the pail, got out another, repeated all the steps and this time - sat in the warm thick diaper and pulled it up around me. I did NOT use the tapes – that was for babies – and I was a sales rep on a sales call, trying to write an ad!! At 1:15 I was soaked, and burping, and unfortunately farting a bit as my body tried to get rid of gas built up inside of me. At 2:36 I was into my fifth diaper – wet, warm, and pretty full. I tucked my left hand down between my legs and squeezed gently, and rubbed gently, and squeezed and rubbed, and watched pre-cum ooze on the head of my dick. At 3:44 I put on the diaper the entire way, tapes and all, leaned back hit play, and prayed for an orgasm to relieve the sexual tension I was engulfed in. At 4:49 I couldn’t take the diaper off. My fingers and thumbs didn’t do what my brain commanded, and the warm wet white bulge (around my bulge) mockingly looked back at me. I went to the DVD case, grabbed it and read it…… I grabbed the DVD case? My hands DO work…. I gazed down and again tried to remove my diaper – and my hands swayed and twitched but did not do any good what so ever. I dug out my cell, and while rubbing my dick ensconced in the warm-slick material, my right hand held onto the phone and prayed Jess would answer. “Hello, Steve? You okay??” “When are you coming home? I need some help.” “Oh my goodness – what’s the matter?” Silence. How do you say what I have to say…? On the other end of the line, Jess waited…and smiled and said a small prayer… “My hands don’t work.” “If your hands didn’t work Mr. Anderson – how could you dial the phone? Look honey, I’ll be home in…” “I NEED YOU TO HELP ME GET OUT OF A WET DIAPER.” YES – she beamed… “Well, if I correctly remember diapering my nephew – I believe you just pull the tapes back…” “I did, and my hands don’t work – they work on everything else – but not the diaper; can you please hurry…??!! I don’t know what the matter is, and it’s rather weird, and rather strange, and my privates are starting to itch, and… I am not relaxed but am worried…and I’m freaking out…” Sensing that panic was starting to creep into her little guy – Jessica Redenbacher did what any good mommy would do – she got her baby a bottle… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and everywhere that Mary went, Mary went… Hearing the happy sucking noises on the phone, Jess broke the connection, and walked to her office; on top of the bag of clothes she purchased she wrote a note “rash cream, wipes, bottle and powder,” and proceeded to call her District Manager to see if she could leave early. At 5:15 I was burping and farting like crazy, my bottle was bone dry, and my lips were a bit chapped; I sloshed over to the second pitcher, filled my bottle back up. I hung over the back of the sofa and tried to make myself burp some more. Realizing that time somehow passed faster when watching her DVD’s I put on the phones, glumly hit play, touched my not-to-be-relieved-erection, and woke up at 6:24. Jessica was looking down at me, and I looked at her, the diaper was saturated, the plastic of the couch was damp, and I said, “help me please.” She took a towel out of her Marshall’s bag, and spread it on the coffee table, gestured me to it, and I plopped down, spilling more pee. She pushed me back, so my bottom was at one end of the table, and my head, barely fit at the other end; she looked down, ignoring the tent in my groin area. “Now what’s this about your hands won’t work?” “Look, I go to pull the tapes off the diaper, and…….” My hands worked just fine thank you. The tapes gratefully let go, and my privates were damp, a bit pink, erect and clearly visible for all to see. “Nice erection. If you wanted to play, you could have just said – Jess, I’m horny and thinking of you, can you come home early? You didn’t need to make up a my-hands-don’t-work and practically scare me to death; I set a Rhode Island speed record driving home, and my D-M had to go in to lock up.” “I swear my hands didn’t work.” “Whatever, let’s get you cleaned up.” She pulled the diaper out from underneath me, rolled it up, walked it into the washroom did a low-five with the diaper pail, added it to the growing stack; picked up a clean disposable, came back out to the coffee table and proceeded to put diaper rash cream, and powder on me, and tape me up. Somewhere between embarrassment and sexual desire, I allowed myself to be put back into the diaper. “I’ve got some calls to make,” and she put the cans back on my head, filled up the bottle, grabbed the now two empty pitchers, handed me the bottle, and hit play. I came to at 7:46, I was hungry, the room was empty, and my diaper was fairly full. I sat up, pulled at the tapes – and my hands wouldn’t work again. W-T-F….? Off came the earphones and I waddled up the stairs pretty damn fast; Jessica was sitting on her bed, in just a long jersey, and pantyhose. She was on her cell, and she stared back – soaking in my panic, as I stood there almost naked, with just a droopy diaper, a pair of socks, and an erection. She ended the conversation and took off her jersey. Her breasts were exposed, and I was too… She cooed “Have you been a good boy today?” I nodded. She got off the bed and slowly walked toward me; I didn’t know whether to look at the crotch of her pantyhose, or the two magnificent melons coming my way. “If I go through your little blue pail – will I find any gooey sticky diapers?” All I could do was shake my head NO, and burp. “Then someone deserves a reward,” and with that she led me back to the bed, laid down on it, and bade me to get on top of her. “Pull one tape off the top of each side, so your penis can come out and play.” This time my hands worked again, strange - and I did what I was told. She reached down, and playfully pulled the diaper up tight around me, forcing me to ‘skootch’ up onto her stomach, and said “fuck my tits.” And there, on a cold Sunday evening, Jess cradled her breasts into a fleshy tunnel, and I slid on a warm-wet-diaper up and down her belly, thrusting for all I was worth. It felt AWESOME, and I came all over her and them. Once my breathing had slowed, I looked down at her and she up at me. And then - as any proper sales professional would do, I slid down her body, over her soft belly, ripped her pantyhose at the crotch and satisfied my client. Due to the hour we ordered pizza in, and washed it down with laughter, kisses and beers. I even drank out of the baby bottle. We brushed our teeth, she offered to diaper me for bed, and I declined. We tumbled into bed kissed and spooned, her breasts against my back; I fell to sleep, very relaxed, and pretty happy. Later in the pre-dawn hours, Jessica uncoupled carefully, grabbed her iPhone, and pushed a button….Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, how I wonder where you are, up above the world so high… She let the song play through and crept out of bed as a stain of wetness spread out around Steve. She went to the basement, started the washer up again, counted all the wet diapers, and put a not-so-wet-one on the (outside) top of the pail; and then went into the back basement to bring the sleeping bags clearer into view. Returning to the washroom, she put the wipes, the powder and the diaper rash cream on a small ledge in the washroom, just away from the door on the sawhorses. Got scissors from her sewing kit and cut the tags off his new jeans – extra baggy on one pair, and tossed them in the dryer, and did the same with his button-down shirts, and a packet of underwear. Put in a couple dryer sheets and began that cycle. Added the coffee-table-towel into the hamper, moved back upstairs, and then washed the baby bottle, and let it dry. Back in the bedroom the song had long finished playing, and Steve was damp, and still asleep; she smiled, touched herself, and went to wake him up.

I couldn't stand not sharing! Part 24I drifted back to consciousness and found myself on Aunt Lisa's couch, still in my sloth PJs but apparently with a fresh diaper. I stretched, and roused to see April hugging Aunt Lisa very tightly."Thank you so much, you and Mellie both," she said softly, but her voice carried."It wasn't all sunshine and roses, April - she wants to know how she got here. Melanie told Kimmy her arrival story.""It was going to happen eventually," April sighed, "but I feel like we've turned an important corner. I think we'll be okay."I yawned loudly, in hopes that they wouldn't realize I was eavesdropping. April knew how I got here, and it was something that she thought I would take poorly... "Good morning, sleepyhead. You slept through your morning change," she smiled down at me as she scooped me up, "I was worried it was a hypnotic sleep, but Lisa told me that you drifted off naturally. We've got a lunch date today, sweetie. Gwen is meeting us at the Pasta Palace. It's a beautiful day, I thought we'd eat out on their terrace."My stomach did a little flip-flop at the news of the lunch date. I wasn't sure I wanted to meet Gwen. I wanted to pretend it would just be April and me forever, just the two of us in this new special kind of love we had found... I felt a little shaken, like that newfound love was threatened. The look on April's face said everything would be fine, however. She hadn't been wrong yet, there was no reason to think she would start now. The key to finding happiness was to surrender to her, to be her Little, to follow where she guided me. I didn't know what was best for me, she did. It made my heart hurt a bit, but I had to trust her."Let's go home and get you in a pretty dress, say goodbye to Lisa. Mellie is still asleep, you'll see her again soon, I'm sure.""Bye Aunt Lisa," I smiled and waved over April's shoulder as she hoisted me up, holding me to her by my diapered bottom. "Thank you for everything, it was a super fun sleepover.""Goodbye, Kimmy. You are a good girl, I'm glad you had fun."April carried me to the car and buckled me in, handing me Harry Otter."Bottle please!" I smiled cheerfully after I was buckled. She laughed and handed me a bottle of juice from the diaper bag, "Are we sure she didn't slip you something, cutie?""I'm sure," I said as I took the bottle from her, "I just had a really good time, mommy. How many pacis does Mellie have? She seems to have a different one every time I see her."Mommy beamed at me again, she was really, really happy that I called her 'mommy'."I'm glad you had a good time," she said, ignoring my question and closing the back door to the car and taking the driver's seat. "Let's hit the road, cuteness."--Once we got home, I got another diaper change.. I seemed to be going more often than I did before, and noticing it less. Honestly, it didn't seem to matter. If I was going to be happy, I had to stop caring about stuff like that. I wasn't going to find a toilet and April would always make sure I got changed.. so I just went when I needed to go, I never bothered to hold it any more. She picked out a dress for me, it was a sleeveless sundress with a white top half showing a floral print, and a bright red gauzy skirt that fell to my calves. There was a little blue bow at my left hip, which hung down to my mid-thigh. It was so cute!I got a pair of light blue sandals to wear with it, and we sat down on the couch, with me in her lap."So, tell me about what you and Melanie talked about last night," she said, seemingly perfectly calm. My pulse accelerated a bit, I didn't want to get in trouble."We.. I asked Melanie how she got here, and she said she died and it scared me and," I felt the words pouring out of my mouth, "I thought maybe I was dead too." I stopped for a breath, "But she told me she wasn't actually dead, that Aunt Lisa saved her and they got the pills out of her and... I was scared. I can't remember how I got here, I just remember waking up.""You and some friends," April sighed sadly, pulling me closer, "decided to drink a lot of a neurotoxin and drive your car entirely too fast for the roads you were on. You were in the back seat of the car, one of your friends was driving, a girl named Stephanie, one of your friends was in the passenger seat, a girl named Joy." She stroked my hair softly, "Stephanie got scared by an animal and drove the car off the road, off the side of a very, very steep hill. None of you were going to survive." She paused, squeezing me tightly."How.. how did you save me? What about Steph and Joy? Did they get saved too?""Here on Albion, this is how we get Littles.. we take you when we know you aren't going to make it, and we try to give you better lives. We try to take damaged Littles and make them whole. Your dimension reads about an hour behind ours.. so if we see something happen in time, we can do something about it. Your dimension is a harsh place, sweetie. There are a lot of damaged Littles living there, needing love.""What about my friends?""They were also brought here and adopted," mommy's voice was halting. There was something she wasn't saying."Can we go visit them? I didn't know any of my friends came here, too... ""Sweetheart," mommy squeezed me, "Stephanie came through as a five-month, she's... she's probably got a lot of healing to do before she can play with anyone. She was apparently in an abusive relationship that was... it was really bad, sweetie. Joy came through as a fourteen-month. Both have been adopted by now, but I'm afraid I don't know where either of them are, sweetie."On the one hand, I was happy that my friends were okay.. on the other hand, I never thought for a moment that the three of us would have been pulled into this dimension together. Poor Steph was stuck, probably as a crawler, for who knows how long."Is there anything we can do?""I doubt it, Kimmy - adoption records are often sealed. Short of running into them, you don't have a very good chance of finding either of them. Don't worry, sweetie," she stroked my hair, "Albion is a mostly gentle place. You and Melanie are happy, right?"I nodded, hoping she was right. I hoped Steph and Joy found as much happiness as I have.. but I also worried."That's why I can't go back ever, isn't it? I'm... I'm dead there.""Oh sweetie," mommy hugged me close, stroking my hair softly, "I was hoping you wouldn't want to go back any more before you found out. I want you to be happy here."I thought about what the truth toy revealed to me.. I missed my freedom, but I really didn't want to go home. I could choose to sulk and be sad, or I could embrace the wonderful woman who was trying her best to console me."I'm okay, mommy," I smiled up at her, craning my neck to look into her eyes, "I'm home."--The Pasta Palace was a Little-friendly establishment.. they had 27 different kinds of mac and cheese! Apparently this particular section of Albion had a lot of Littles, specifically a lot of Littles belonging to progressive Amazons like April. They had special booster seats that slid into the table so Littles could sit at the same level as their Amazons, without needing highchairs. Every spot at every table had interchangeable seats to accommodate any combination of Amazons and Littles. As we were being seated we were walked through the restaurant since we were wanting to eat outside on the terrace. I saw a Little birthday party going on, the entire table was nothing but Littles, probably 20 of them, with clapping Amazons nearby. They looked really happy. I saw the birthday girl, dressed in her frilly pink dress and a tiara, holding up a puzzle book triumphantly. Looks like someone got what they wanted for their birthday. I smiled, thinking about how birthday parties were the best when you were young. And now birthday parties would be the best when you were Little. It made me look forward to my own birthday, I wondered what April would do for me... Mellie would have to be there, of course.April sat us down at a table where a woman was already waiting. She stood up when we arrived... I examined her closely. She was a pale, heavier-set woman with blonde hair that fell to her squarish chin, but one side of her head was shaved.. and the tips of her hair were dyed pink. She had on a dark lipstick and eyeliner, and a nosering. She had some kind of animal tooth earring dangling from the ear exposed by her shaven head. She had very large breasts that stretched out the band logo on her t-shirt, and an ankle-length black skirt with lace around the hem. Combat boots laced with bright pink laces which dangled down peeked out from under the hem of her skirt."Gwen!" April gave the lady a hug and a kiss on the cheek... which meant I got smushed into her large breasts."Hello gorgeous," Gwen smiled and then looked down at me, "And you must be Kimmy, I've heard so much about you. You are April's favorite thing to talk about.""I'm not a thing," I crossed my arms over my chest... but I was squealing with laughter in just a moment as Gwen's strong hands found my ticklish spots."Of course you aren't, you're a beautiful Little girl, and you're the apple of your mommy's eye. You know that right? She can't go ten minutes without telling someone how wonderful you are."April blushed, and I did too."May I hold her?" Gwen asked."Of course," April answered without even asking me, and handed me over to Gwen. With Gwen holding me up, I was almost eye-level with April, Gwen was very tall. And she smelled like strawberries. Her hands felt strong, but soft and she had baby pink painted nails. I found her very confusing.. she was girly and not girly at the same time."Hmm," Gwen mused, turning me this way and that, "She's pretty cute, but I'm not sure... " She rotated me so that she was looking down at the top of my head. She flipped me upside-down and my skirt fell up, exposing my diaper and making me squeal, "Is she ticklish enough?""No!" I squealed, but Gwen was already tickling my exposed legs. I had no idea how she was even holding me up at this point considering I was upside-down, kicking and squealing and laughing, all while she tickled my legs. Each of the fingertips on her left hand had thick callouses that made the tickling even more intense. She gave me a swat on the diaper and flipped me back over, "Okay, I think you should keep her. She is pretty cute.""I like your bow," Gwen whispered in my ear as she sat me down in a Little-ready chair between her and mommy and tied a bib around my neck. I unconsciously touched the blue bow on my dress and smiled. Gwen was funny, I could see why April liked her."So sweetie," April spread the Pasta Palace menu out in front of me, "What would you like for lunch?""Oh, I hope it's nothing too sweet - I'm getting diabeetus from being too close to this sweet Little.""Gwen!" I giggled, "You're silly. There's no such thing as too sweet." I stuck my tongue out at her and pointed at a truly wondrous concoction on the menu.. "French Toast Mac & Cheese"."Oh. My. Goodness," Gwen stared at the picture, mouth agape. "You're kidding, right?""Nope! And you hafta try a bite," I said firmly. I didn't know why, but it felt immediately okay to joke and tease with Gwen. She had this way about her that just set you immediately at ease. She was big, she was strong, she looked like she was the sort of person who would take a stand at a moment's notice... but she was also soft and gentle and funny."Hey," Gwen leaned down and whispered to me, "Is it okay if I kiss your mommy?"I nodded. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this. This was actually what I had been worried about this whole time. I loved April in a way I'd never loved anyone before. How would it feel to see someone else kissing her? On the other hand, Gwen seemed very nice...Gwen leaned in and gave April a soft kiss on the lips, gentle, tender, caring. This was not their first kiss. The two of them were so opposite.. Gwen was so out there, so take-me-or-leave-me, so unapologetic, and April was... mommy. Kind, sweet, gentle, beautiful... and seeing them kiss felt.. nice. It didn't feel bad like I thought it would. You could see how happy it made them both, and I wanted April to be happy. When they broke the kiss, April looked at me to see if I was okay. I smiled at her and she lit up like the sun. I had a feeling she would have broken it off with Gwen then and there if I had asked... but honestly, Gwen seemed interesting and I wanted to get to know her better.Gwen ordered a cajun chicken mac and cheese, mommy ordered the traditional, and I got the French Toast kind. It was just as wonderful as I had hoped, and Gwen did try a bite of mine... she hated it just as she expected, but she tried it just the same. Through peals of laughter they took turns feeding me bites of my French Toast Mac, they kept it coming so fast that it was hard to keep up. Before I was done with a bite, there was another fork waiting. They were doing it on purpose! When I finished, the bib was covered in fallen noodles and sugar. Something about the fun while eating made it taste even better."May I?" Gwen asked, holding up a bottle. She was asking me, not April. I nodded and found myself cradled in her arms. She stood and held the bottle to my lips. I closed my eyes and accepted the nipple, washing down the tasty lunch with the sweet juice. Resting in Gwen's arms felt different, it felt solid - like a comfy hammock made out of the softest steel cables. Gwen felt reliable, like she'd never drop me, but at the same time she was gentle. Her strawberry smell floated over me and I smiled.. her heart was beating fast. Gwen was nervous? Why would she be nervous?When the bottle was empty, I just smiled up at Gwen. I felt bad that she was nervous... she pulled the bottle away and put my over her shoulder, and started patting my back gently."Gwen, you don't have to.. " I started to protest... and then I burped. "Um, thanks." I blushed a brilliant red and buried my face in her neck."She's so tiny," Gwen cooed as she set me back in the Littles' seat, "She's smaller than Joanne's Little." She stroked my cheek, "She's a sweetie, April.""Who's Joanne?" I asked, April just smiled, looking proud."Just a friend of mine, sweetie. I don't actually know too many people who have a Little, and April's certainly the first one I've dated. Most musicians can't devote the time a Little needs.""What instrument do you play? Are you a studio musician like mommy?""I play the bass," Gwen smiled at me and sat down, making eye contact with me while she talked, "And no, I play in a local band, mostly for fun. I'm a hair stylist to pay the bills.""Oh, I bet you're good at that," I smiled back, "Your hair is really cool!" April was just watching us interact with a small smile on her face. I could tell that she was very happy that Gwen and I were getting along. "So, am I the first Little you've held?""No, I've held Joanne's Little Will a few times, but you're much smaller than he is. I'm.. pretty big," Gwen had a bit of sadness in her smile there, I could tell she was a little sensitive about her size. "It's strange to hold someone so small. You're also much more of a conversationalist than Will, he doesn't really like talking to anyone but Joanne.""Oh," I frowned a bit, "everyone says I talk better than they expect, but I don't understand it.. how else would I talk? I'm an adult, or at least I was where I'm from. All Littles are, aren't they? Melanie talks just fine, too.""Sweetie," April stroked my hair, "Most Littles come here very damaged. Emotionally or physically or both. We don't decide what size you come to us as, you do. Generally the smaller the Little, the more damaged they are, the more care they need... and most your size have a lot of problems with anger and sadness. That's why the regression foods are so popular.. some Littles need help letting go before they can heal. I'm glad you haven't, you're progressing nicely all on your own. You're blooming with just love. And Melanie only talks to us, Lisa says she's totally silent around other Amazons and Littles alike.""Oh," I felt bad for Melanie, I knew why she was sad and hurting. I wondered what was wrong with the Littles at the daycare."She is too sweet, April," Gwen fawned, taking a turn to stroke my hair as well, "Look at those little wheels turning, she really feels for her fellow Littles, doesn't she?""All of them could if we let them," April said softly."You're such a prog, it's one of the things that makes you so wonderful.""Prog?" I asked."Progressive, sweetie," April smiled softly, "there's a lot in this area - we think that Littles need love and understanding more than control and correction. Lisa wasn't one of us until she met you." She winked at me."I'm a prog, but for different reasons," Gwen looked at me, "I don't have a Little and I'll be honest, I don't know many so I don't exactly march for Little Rights.. but I'm genderfluid and that's something that still isn't easily understood by most.""Oh, what's that mean?""I don't consider myself male or female, I'm something in between. It's hard for a lot of people to comprehend. Sometimes it makes things hard, it's tough when people don't understand you."April reached for Gwen's hands and held them gently. Her heart was so big, she loved everyone. Was there something about her that drew her to people who were hurting? My heart was swelling with love and admiration for her, she never judged a book by its cover, she always seemed to look deeper to the person beyond the surface. She always tried to understand every perspective... and she was really good at it. I thought back to all the times she had calmed my outbursts and explained how other people saw things. I wished I could be like her."Well, that was a good meal - how about a trip to the park?" Gwen stretched, "There's one with a Little-safe playground not far from here. I see it on my way to work.""It's early yet, I think that sounds nice," April smiled, squeezing Gwen's hand, "Are you sure you don't mind us monopolizing your time?""I can't think of a better way to spend it," Gwen looked down at me. The park really didn't sound great to me, Littles playing on a playground in public, Amazons watching over them... plus, I frowned a bit as I flooded my diaper again. I needed a change, and a public one did not sound like fun. "If that's okay with you, Kimmy?""Um, I um.. " Gwen looked crestfallen as I stammered, "Can I get a change before we go?" I blushed, looking down.

Part 17We pulled into the parking lot of the Target, April's usual go-to shopping spot. We still needed to pick up a "Littlewarming" gift for Lisa. We had been out much longer than usual with the extra trip though, and I had an uncommon problem for us."Um, April?" I called quietly, "My diaper is really wet and I need to go again... "April was a homebody, we didn't leave the house all that often. I wasn't even sure if we had spare diapers in the car."Can that diaper make it until we get home?""I'm not sure, it feels really squishy," I pressed on my crotch and felt a little liquid seep out of the padding inside the diaper, "I don't think so.""Well, that settles that - we're definitely getting a diaper bag today. This is two incidents today where it would have saved us a lot of trouble."The pressure in my bladder was building and I hadn't really tried to hold it in weeks now, I wasn't even sure I could."They have a vending machine in the ladies' room that sells diapers here, let's go get you changed before you leak.""Okay... let's hurry, I'm not good at holding it now.""Oh my, you weren't kidding, you're soaked," April said as she picked me up out of the carrier and hurried towards the store, "I'm wishing I had you in a thicker diaper right now.""I like these," I pouted, feeling uncertain. I'd never been changed in public before and I wasn't terribly thrilled at the idea. A big benefit of April being a homebody was the privacy. We hurried into the store and went straight for the restroom, which was right at the front. There were a couple of other ladies in the restroom, one changing a very messy Little girl who was sobbing quietly around a pacifier. April walked to the vending machine... which was out of order."Oh no!" she huffed, "Today has just been the worst day!""What's wrong?" a nice-looking Amazon "mommy" asked April. She was wearing a dark colored dress with a floral print, and she had a pretty beaded necklace on. She was washing her hands, standing next to a stroller with an unconscious Little boy in it. "Oh, the machine's broken.""Yes, and Kimmy was so upset this morning that I walked out the door without the diaper bag and she's positively soaked... ""Um, mommy... " I said softly, as I felt my bladder release a trickle. I was losing this battle. "I'm peeing... ""Here," the woman said and handed April a diaper that looked much too big, "James is bigger than your Little. Put this one on over her soaked diaper before it leaks.""Thank you!" April took the big diaper from the nice lady and laid me down on an open changing table. I could feel the diaper squish underneath me on the hard changing table. April lifted my dress and slid the clean diaper underneath me... and taped the bigger clean diaper on right over the soaking one. I blushed heavily, the bulk of this double-diaper was thicker than the crawler diaper the LittleGarden had put me in and I felt ridiculous."You are a lifesaver," April said to the lady, picking me back up. I finally lost the battle and felt myself flooding the over-saturated diaper I had on, and I felt it leak into the clean one. April sensed me getting upset and popped my pacifier between my lips, "I'm April and this is Kimmy. Can we buy you a cup of coffee in thanks?""I'd like that," she said, "I'm Julie and this little guy is James.""He's what, 18 months?""Good guess, 19. I have myself a handful. He will climb anything if you turn your back on him for an instant. He's a good boy though, I'm happy to have him. Yours is what, 9 months?""Dis many," I held out both my hands and showed my fingers. My legs were spread far apart by the double-diaper... I bet the extra padding would make me fit up front in a cart."Oh, well then," Julie laughed, "didn't mean to short you a month, you little silly. She's a funny one, I bet she keeps you very busy.""Oh, she does," April laughed along with her. The four of us went to the coffee shop that was built in to the front of the store, I was set in a highchair next to James' stroller. Julie sat with us Littles while April went and ordered the coffee. The double diaper felt pretty uncomfortable in the simple highchair.. it had no tray, it was just a tall wooden stool with a spot to thread my legs through I wasn't about to complain though, it was better than leaking everywhere and getting my dress all yucky. Julie was staring very closely at my eyes.. by the time April got back, it was starting to make me a little uncomfortable. The smell of the Amazon-strength coffee hit me as April delivered the two cups and sat down."Your Little is very cute, April. Her eyes are very bright, has she been fighting off the regression formula?""Oh, I don't believe in giving Kimmy any regression formula," April said. Her spine had gone completely straight."Really! She's so cheerful, I figured for sure you had her regressed," Julie laughed, completely oblivious to April's discomfort, "I keep James on a heavy dose, it makes him so much more pleasant. If he misses two days in a row, it's all complaining about needing to get back to his 'business'. I guess I'm just old fashioned. I'm not as bad as my friends back home though, their customs wouldn't even be welcome on this island.""Oh, you're not from around here?" April asked, "Which island are you from? What brought you here to Albion?""My husband is a food scientist - we're from Catalon originally. Your island spends so much on food research for Littles, figuring out what they like and what they don't like... it's my husband's passion so here we are. On Catalon, the flavor of what you fed your Little didn't matter, as long as they were healthy. It's funny how different things can be from island to island!"I was staying purposefully silent, I didn't want this woman's attention on me. April had stiffened visibly when she said 'Catalon', I figured I probably didn't want to know. I just had to wait for April to get us out of this conversation."Your Little is so cute already, I bet she'd be absolutely adorable on a light dose!""Kimmy is cute because she is clever, I don't want to dull that at all. I love her just the way she is.""Oh, of course you do honey - I just think you should keep an open mind.""I'll give it some thought. Thank you very much for the save back in the ladies' room - Kimmy and I are shopping for a Littlewarming present for a friend, we'd better get back to it. You have a great day!""Absolutely," Julie smiled, not noticing April's rapid retreat, "Thanks for the coffee, it was nice meeting you."--"What a day," April sighed, booping my nose where I sat in the carrier built in to the front of the cart. I smiled, I got to stare into April's eyes as we shopped, it was pretty fantastic. A big puffy, pink and purple diaper bag was in the cart. April wasn't really happy about that, but after the day she'd had.. I knew she didn't ever want a repeat. I felt guilty for causing a fuss in the other store, but she had said it wasn't my fault.We had decided on a pink unicorn sleepsack since Melanie liked being swaddled - it had internal sleeves that were sewn to the body. Once a Little was zipped up in this, they wouldn't be able to move at all.. and they'd look like their head was poking out of the neck of a cute pink unicorn! They'd be a Little-stuffed stuffie! The tail hid a zipper for a drop seat, so Lisa could change Melanie without pulling her out of the suit. It would have been a torture device if April had gotten it for me, but I just knew that Melanie would love it.I had suggested we get Melanie a pack of the super fancy, extra-extra thick girly diapers. They were a soft pink, and they actually had butt ruffles and lace on the disposable diaper. Once again, I thought it was silly but I had a feeling that Melanie would absolutely love it. We also got her a little purple kitten stuffed toy, which I had named Duchess Fuzzbutt. Mellie would probably rename it, but that was definitely the name I was going to use when we gave it to her."Let's get you home and into a fresh diaper, Kimmy - that doesn't look comfortable.""It's not," I shrugged, "but I'm your Little and diapers are part of the deal."April looked at me quizzically - she didn't look like she was sure how to feel about that one."I mean, I'm getting used to them. Even the thick ones. It's not so bad... the best part is," I smiled shyly, "how much you love me when you change me."April lit up at that, a big smile spread across her face. I hoped that a good end would erase some of the bad of the day.