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Sorry, it took me so long. The good news is my Mom's cancer is stable. That is the best-case scenario for her right now. My dad continues to degrade with his Dementia. I don't know why but we have seen a lot of change in him these last two months. He has, on a couple of occasions, forgotten who my wife and daughter are. Anyways, back to the story. I did not do a good job writing this. I should not be an erotic writer (LOL). This is the last chapter of just John and Ashley. Remember Ashley is pretending to be Chloe. The next chapter we will be getting into the grove of things with Avery and Darlene. Chapter 38 - Passion & Revenge Ashely was shocked that she had actually got John to agree to take her back to his office at DNA Pharmacia. It was a long shot. She was toying and leading him on at the Prost Sports bar, but it worked. Before they left the bar, Ashley took a selfie with the two of them facing the back of the bar with the bartender in the picture behind them. She sent him the picture from her iPhone for remembrance. As Ashley, who was right now playing the role of Chloe, entered the sleek, modern building of DNA Pharmica, they wasted no time in pressing their lips together in a fiery kiss. Their pent-up passion burned hot and intense, fueled by revenge fantasies against those who had put them down before, which she placed in his head. She could feel his desire growing stronger beneath her touch, igniting her own pretend desire in return. They headed to the elevator from the parking garage. Once entered, John quickly pressed the level three button where his office and department were. As the elevator ascended, its gentle hum harmonized with a soft melody piped through hidden speakers. Johns found himself drawn into a world of his own. His hands began to wander over her dress, a seductive black dress that clung to her form like an intimate secret. The material was as smooth as silk beneath his touch, each caress sending jolts of anticipation coursing through John’s veins. He wanted her. He pressed her against the cool metallic walls of the elevator, his lips finding hers in an intoxicating dance of desire. The taste of her lipstick was sweet on his tongue, a hopeful hint of what was to come. John thought to himself that he really scored tonight with this young lady. His fingers traced over the curves accentuated by her dress, exploring every inch. The tight fabric seemed to be an extension of Ashley herself; it whispered tales of temptation under his touch and hinted at the secrets hidden beneath its surface. The world outside ceased to exist for him as he lost himself in this momentary sexual intensity in what he believed was their shared heat radiating off the cold metal walls of the elevator. At the same time, Ashley pretended to savor every moment, knowing this would be just what she wanted him to fall for and making him believe they both needed this after enduring those harsh words and judgment at work during the past weeks from their bosses who had overlooked their contributions to younger underserving talent that didn’t know what they were doing. Throughout her career as an escort, she had become a silent scholar of male behavior and carnal desires. Each encounter was a lesson, each client a chapter in her ever-growing understanding of human psychology. She had learned to read the subtle cues hidden behind their egos - the twitching fingers that betrayed nervousness, the lingering gaze that hinted at unspoken fantasies. She'd mastered the art of manipulation, a delicate dance where she led while allowing them to believe they were in control. She learned to be the puppeteer pulling invisible strings, guiding their actions with carefully chosen words and gestures. Their egos remained intact as they reveled in their perceived power, oblivious to her subtle control over the situation. The illusion was part of the allure; it was what kept them coming back for more. This was her ultimate challenge. As they move towards the office, John again could understand why this sexual release could be so appealing. In his mind, he was the victim of a professional work environment with blurred loyalty, boundaries, and a lack of respect. Ashley broke the kiss, gasping for air as her heart raced, pretending to be turned on and enjoying the excitement. "John," she breathed, her voice husky and filled with longing. "I've really needed this. That bitch has me so angry and frustrated at my work." John's hands roamed her body; his touch, he thought, was igniting a fire within her. "You have no idea how much I could use this; Avery is just as much a bastard," he growled, his words dripping with resentment towards Avery and with desire for Ashley. John reached for the doorknob of his office, held Ashley tight in his arms, and pushed the door open. "They have no clue what they're missing by letting those losers get in our way," Ashley panted, eagerly unbuttoning John's shirt. "We'll show them who's really valuable around here and who is fucking in control." Trying hard to get John stirred up over Avery more. John's eyes glinted with desire and need as he nipped at her neck. "They should have never underestimated us, Chloe," he growled, his hands roaming hungrily over every inch of her body. "Now it's time for them to pay the price." With a rough shove, he pinned her against the wall of the office, causing a book to tumble from the shelf and crash to the ground with a loud thud. Ashley moaned softly, pretending to be lost in the moment as John's lips trailed down her neck and across her collarbone. "Mmm, you know just how to make me forget all about those pompous assholes in the fashion industry." "Let me help you forget even more," John murmured seductively as he cautiously navigated his hand up the soft terrain of her thigh. His fingertips traced a path under the hem of her dress, exploring the delicate fabric that shielded her skin from his touch. Ashley, pretending, inhaled sharply. "I love the thrill of possibly being discovered," Ashley murmured with a mischievous glint in her eyes, gently pushing John away from her with a flirtatious smile. "Isn't that part of the allure?" John's voice was a low whisper against the curve of her neck, his warm breath causing a shiver to ripple across her skin. "The intoxicating danger of unmasking our secret rondevo... it does add an irresistible edge." A playful laugh escaped Ashley's lips as she pulled him back towards her, their bodies colliding with an electric intensity. Her fingers danced up his chest, pressing him closer against her as if he were the only thing anchoring her to reality. "You're such a wicked temptation," Ashley teased, their bodies rhythmically moving together in a dance as old as time itself. The friction between them ignited sparks of pleasure that coursed through John’s veins. "But I find myself hopelessly drawn to it." "Says the woman who begged to come into my office tonight and wants to jump me," John retorted playfully. With a smirk, Ashley replied, "Well, someone had to make the first move. You were too slow to pick up on the hints." "Slow?" John growled playfully before scooping Ashley up and placing her on his desk with ease. Papers and office supplies scattered to the floor as Ashley wrapped her legs around his waist. "About time you manned up." John's fingers tangled in her hair as he claimed her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "I'll man up all over this office if you keep taunting me like that." "Big words," Ashley teased, pretending to revel in the feel of John's body pressed against hers. "Let's see if you can back them up, hotshot." John nipped at her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. "Challenge accepted, darling." Ashley shivered, pretending to be overcome with desire for this man who knew how to push her buttons. "Mmm, I love it when you get all assertive." "And I love it when you get all feisty," John murmured against her skin, his hands wandering lower and lower. Ashley's nails raked down his back as she gasped in pure pleasure. "Less talking, more action, mister." John groaned, unable to resist the fiery passion between them any longer. "You're going to get more action than you can handle” "That's more like it," Ashley purred, relishing every touch and kiss from John's skilled hands and lips. "Now show me what you've got." John's hands slid to her back and began to unzip her dress; she pretended to let him know he was igniting a fire within her that only he could extinguish. "With pleasure." Ashley arched into his touch, pretending to lose herself completely in the moment and letting her inhibitions slip away as she surrendered to John's desires. "Damn straight. Now shut up and kiss me again." John obliged eagerly, his mouth hungrily exploring every inch of hers as their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm. For those brief moments together, work and responsibilities were forgotten as they focused solely on each other, basking in the heat and intensity of their connection. When they finally came up for air, Ashley giggled breathlessly. "You know, this is way better than writing some stupid-ass article for the magazine that your boss doesn’t care about." John grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'd say it's a much more productive use of DNA pharmica’s company time since they don’t know talent when they have it." "Oh, definitely," Ashley agreed with a sly grin. "We should make this a regular thing after tonight." John raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea. "Weekly after-work discipline meetings here in your office?" Ashley smirked, her fingers trailing down John's chest. "For efficiency's sake, of course." "Of course," John echoed before leaning in to kiss her again, their passion reigniting once more as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. At that moment, there was no one else but them, no worries or stressors, just a shared desire to feel alive and wanted in each other's arms. With a calculated pause, Ashley gently nudged him back from the desk she was perched on. She had him wrapped around her finger, ready to do anything for a taste of her. "But first," she cooed, "I'd like you to freshen up a bit. Nothing quite kills the mood like an unpleasant aroma." Her smile was teasing as she ran her hand over his crotch. "And I'll do the same. Now, where's your bathroom?" John hastily retreated and pointed towards the bathroom before making a dash for it himself. Ashley watched him go with an amused smirk playing on her lips. "I'll be right there," she promised, eyes twinkling mischievously as she added, "Just need to grab a few things." Once he was out of sight, Ashley's gaze swept across the room with predatory precision, hunting for the perfect spot to hide her video camera where she could retrieve it later without raising suspicion. Her eyes landed on a wooden shelf nestled between two notebooks - an ideal location to capture all that would transpire at the desk. Satisfied with her choice, Ashley exited the office, but something caught her off guard. This wasn’t John’s office he took her to. It was Bryan’s office. She made a quick mental note to find out who this was. Then she made her way towards the bathroom, leaving no trace of her secret agenda behind. After emerging from the bathroom, Ashley's skin was freshly washed and scented with a luxurious perfume. A wicked grin spread across her face as she reveled in the success of her plan. Despite lingering worries, everything was falling perfectly into place. When Ashley stepped in, he was sitting on the desk. As John got up, he eagerly undid his pants as Ashley took slow, deliberate steps towards him, her movements exuding confidence. She reached up to unzip the back of her dress, revealing a lacy black bra nested underneath. With a sexy sway of her hips, she stepped out of her dress, fully exposing herself in matching lace panties. "Let's show them who's really in charge around here," she purred, crawling onto the desk with the shuffle of papers and clattering of office supplies beneath them. Straddling him confidently, their lips met again in a fiery kiss that quickly escalated to grinding hips and passionate moans. Always mindful of the video camera recording their every move, Ashley made sure to keep her face obscured by her hair at all times. Their bodies entwined in a frenzy of desire, John and Ashley held onto each other tightly. His rough hands traced over her supple skin as he growled into her ear, "You're such a damn tease, some much better than DNA Pharmica. Fuck them all." His voice dripped with lust as he slowed down, removed her bra, and tossed it on the floor, exposing her firm young breast. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them firmly, eliciting fake pleasured cries from Ashley as he pinched at her sensitive nipples. Ashley's hands, smooth and warm, slid along John's flat abdomen before dipping into his boxers. His cock sprang free, standing tall against the confines of his underwear. She very smoothly pushed his boxers down his thighs with her feet, revealing him long, thick, hard, and ready. John watched as she did this. “Avery just wishes he was man enough. that pissy pants could never get this. This company is going down the drain.” Ashley pushed John away from the desk as she slid off the desk and onto her knees before him now, she took him into her soft mouth, her lips wrapping around the head of his shaft and her tongue teasing the sensitive underside. Her hands gripped his base as she bobbed her head up and down, causing a delicious friction against his skin. Her breath fanned over him, hot and moist, as she took more of him inside her mouth with each gentle tug. His hips bucked forward, pressing deeper into her eager mouth as she worked him with deft strokes of her tongue. She took a breath and looked up at John. “Say it... Say, mean. Say it rough!” With one hand still gripping her hair for leverage, John gripped the edge of the desk tightly under the strain of pleasure coursing through him. He groaned loudly into the silence of the room, lost to this sensual moment with Ashley kneeling at his feet. Her lips and tongue worked in unison to drive him wild; he could feel droplets of pre-cum gathering at the tip of his cock as she took him deeper with each suckle. “Fuck them all.. Fuck the CEO, Fuck Bryan, Fuck the HR asshole. Fuck dam company. Fuck that little asshole Avery.” He screamed as he leaned his head back in pleasure, still holding on to her hair. During all this, Ashley was well aware of the camera and kept her face away from it at all times, ensuring she captured every moment. At that moment, she retreated a fraction, her eyes sparkling with mischief as a seductive grin graced her lips. “Anticipating the grand finale?” Her voice was a purr, rich and sexy, laden with promise. She looked up at John from her position on her knees, an alluring sight of submissive appeal. With deliberate slowness, she reached for the prophylactic she had thoughtfully prepared earlier. Her fingers danced over the foil packaging, teasing it open with an erotic grace that left nothing to the imagination. The crinkle of the wrapper echoed in the room like a whispered secret. Her eyes locked onto his and moved with deliberate precision as she rolled the latex barrier over his pulsating desire. Each action was exact and agonizingly slow, amplifying their mutual anticipation. The icy touch of her fingers against his feverish skin sent tremors down his spine, leaving him gasping for air in expectation of what was to follow. "Get on the desk," John's voice was low and urgent as he watched Ashley's every move. His words hung in the air between them, a provocative challenge that made her heart pound wildly in her chest. "On all fours?" Ashley questioned with a playful glint in her eyes. She knew exactly what he wanted but enjoyed the dance of their verbal foreplay. "Yes," he breathed out in a commanding tone, "I want to take you from behind." His words were raw and strong, pretending to stir a thrill within her. Her breath hitched as she climbed onto the desk, presenting herself just as he had commanded. She felt John slide her black lace panties off, throwing them on the ground. Then Ashley felt John's rough hands grip her hips and pull her closer to hi, sending shivers down her spine. The sensation of his body pressing against hers from behind caused her to arch her back invitingly. John groaned low in his throat before pushing himself inside of her in one swift motion, filling her up completely. Ashley gasped at the sudden intrusion. She arched her back, pretending she couldn't help but feel a rush of pleasure course through her veins. His rough hands dug into her skin as he began to thrust into her with force, causing their hips to smack together in a rhythmic beat that echoed around the room. As soon as John started thrusting in and out. He continued his lude onslaught of his company. Talking about how the project will fail. How the patents will never pass. Revealing lots of anger towards the company as their bodies slapped against each other, creating an intense bass line that vibrated through the air. The sound of skin-on-skin colliding mixed with their heavy breaths and moans filled the silence. Ashley could feel every inch of him penetrating her, stretching her walls as she let him claim her as his own for this one night. The scent of sweat and lust filled the air, making it almost tangible as they moved together. John's hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as his body reached its climax. Letting out one last “Fuck you” to the company. The desk beneath them shook and creaked with their fervent movements; papers and pens continued to scatter across the surface. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, his heart pounding against her back. The sound of their mingled moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as they gave in to their desires.

Chapter 34 “MOMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!” Charlotte’s face was now red with tears. The door to her bedroom flung open. Darcy, filled with concern, came to her daughter’s aid. She dreaded the accident that she was about to witness. And it was just as she had feared. Charlotte sat there, her eyes filled with tears. She pulled back the covers to the entire bedding underneath Charlotte soaked in pee. “Oh sweetie!” Darcy wasted no time in getting Charlotte out of the bed while she quickly stripped the bedding all the way down to the waterproof mattress protector. ‘I’m so glad I bought that.’ Darcy thought to herself in relief. ‘She would’ve ruined the mattress…’ Next was her daughter Charlotte, who was now sitting hunched over on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably in her pink soaked nightgown. Darcy gently got her daughter to her feet, feeling sorry for the poor girl. “Honey, you can’t sit down.” Darcy said in a manner that tried to kindly instruct Charlotte. “You’ll get the carpet all wet. Here. Let’s get you cleaned up at the bathroom.” Darcy’s eyes darted back to the pile of soaked bedding. Right next to the bedding was Bobo, who by some miracle escaped Charlotte’s nighttime accident. Darcy couldn’t see a drop of pee on her stuffed friend. ‘Thank God.’ Her eyes returned to Charlotte. “Here. You’ll feel better when you’re cleaned up. Okay?” “Okay.” Charlotte said in a quiet whimper. It was all that she could say, considering how upset she was. She glanced back at her bedding, as if she still had something to reveal about what just happened. “M-mommy. I….I…” Darcy hugged Charlotte. “Shhhhhh….It’s okay, sweetie. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….I know. You had an accident. Accidents happen Charlie Darlie. Now do you think that you can clean up? Do you need mommy to help you?” Charlotte glanced at her soaked pajamas. For some reason, she felt that she couldn’t remove her pajamas herself but knew that she could clean herself. “Help me get my jammies off.” Darcy gave her daughter an understanding nod. “Okay honey. Do you want me to help clean you up?” Charlotte shook her head. “No mommy. Get my jammies off. They’re very wet…” Darcy nodded. “Okay sweetie. Now it’s the morning so I’m going to get your bedding cleaned up and pick out some clothes for school, okay? How does that sound, Char?” Charlotte gave her a sad nod. “Okay mommy.” Darcy led Charlotte to the bathroom and fulfilled her daughter’s request. She removed her wet nightgown, which felt like peeling it off when she got to the waist and crotch area. Underneath was a completely soaked Goodnite, which almost dropped between Charlotte’s legs since it was so heavy. Darcy finished freeing the Goodnite, having it drop between Charlotte’s legs before having her step out of it. She handed her a towel and pointed to the shower. “Let mommy know if you need anything, okay?” Charlotte nodded as her mother closed the door. Moments later, Charlotte could feel the hot water from the showerhead flowing down the bangs of her long black hair. Her mind returned to the dream that she recently had. She smiled when she realized the journey that she was able to make. ‘I was a commander on the Century Eagle!’ She thought with a smile. ‘I was going on an important mission.’ This suddenly sparked another thought that Charlotte has been distracted from for a while. The Mystery still needed to be solved. ‘The Mystery!’ But then Charlotte tried to think why the mystery was so important. As she continued to think about this more and more, she finally decided that it had to do with that Mystery Notebook. ‘That Notebook.’ She said to herself. ‘It will explain everything.’ But after Charlotte shampooed and lathered her body with soap, she glanced down to watch all the water from the showerhead run off her legs. But then she saw it. A stream of yellow water flowing down as well. Charlotte was not even aware of this until she saw it. ‘Again? It’s like I can’t even tell when I’m going now…” The very thought of this frightened Charlotte. ‘What if I have another accident in class?’ The remaining torrent of pee got washed down the drain as Charlotte finished up her shower. Charlotte then dried off with a towel and went to her bedroom to find all her clothes already picked out for her. A pair of white panties with a pink waistband and pink leg openings on top sat on top of a pair of blue elastic denim jeans and a Coral My Little Pony shirt with a ruffled hem. She smiled at the shirt, noticing that all three of her favorite ponies were casting friendly stares at her. Both Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie stood on either side, with Rainbow Dash flying in front of both of them with a bold and adventurous smile. Charlotte tossed the towel aside and put on the shirt, followed by her panties and blue elastic denim jeans. She didn’t even notice the pair of Pinkie Pie socks that she left in the bedroom. Darcy was stirring Charlotte’s Carnation Breakfast Essentials in a plastic cup while two slices of bread were in the toaster: one for her and one for Charlotte. The toast popped out of the toaster just as she finished stirring. When she saw Charlotte walking downstairs barefoot, she almost laughed as she removed the spoon from the cup. “Charlie, you forgot to put your socks on.” Letting out a quiet sigh, she ran upstairs, fetched Charlotte’s socks and ran back downstairs with them. “Here sweetie. Start drinking your breakfast while I get your socks on.” Charlotte nodded and sat at the table with her plastic cup of Carnation Breakfast Essentials. She drank the cup, tasting the delicious chocolate as it went down her throat. At the same time, Darcy was pulling both socks onto her feet. “There honey.” Darcy said as she softly patted Charlotte’s feet. “The toast is done. Would you like a little jam on it? It’s strawberry!” Charlotte smiled. “I love strawberry! Go ahead, mom.” Darcy got the toast out of the toaster and buttered both slices. She then spread a light amount of strawberry jam on both slices and handed one on a plate to Charlotte, just as she was finishing her cup of Carnation Breakfast Essentials. Charlotte grabbed the toast and began eating it, not paying attention to the strawberry jam that was getting all over her face. “Today is going to be different, dear.” Darcy reminded Charlotte. “I will not be picking you up after school. It will be your Aunt Darlene. You will be having a sleepover at her house with Heather and Allison. I already packed your overnight bag and have it in the 4Runner. And don’t worry. I remembered Bobo.” She grabbed a paper towel and moistened it with water from the sink. “Char honey. You have jam all over your face. Sit still and let mommy get it.” Charlotte sat still while Darcy wiped her face clean with the wet paper towel. She shrugged her shoulders, and her cheeks turned red. ‘I wasn’t THAT messy. Was I?’ Charlotte was now grabbing her backpack and sliding on her pink and white shoes that were already tied. Once Charlotte was in the 4Runner, Darcy fastened the buckle on the five-point harness that went to Charlotte’s car seat. She then drove Charlotte off to school. Charlotte smiled as she felt the comfortable cushioning of her car seat. She didn’t know why she argued about her car seat before. It was just…comfortable. And it just felt right. After Charlotte was dropped off at Langford Elementary School, Darcy made sure that Charlotte had the extra overnight bag in her hands with her backpack. Charlotte got to Miss Willoughby’s class to find Gabrielle reading The Ringmaster Chronicles that Charlotte lent to her. Gabrielle glanced up from reading and smiled at Charlotte. “Thanks for letting me borrow this. The book is pretty good so far.” Charlotte nodded. “It is a pretty good book. Where are you?” “The Midgy.” Gabrielle said with a smile. “I’m reading all about Rowwin Ruggins! Some of the words are hard to understand, though.” Charlotte nodded and thought about The Ringmaster Chronicles and The Raidemirillion. For some reason, she could still vividly remember everything about the series and especially knew The Midgy quite well. “That’s a good story! Did you get to where Rowwin found the ring?” Gabrielle nodded. “Rowwin found a ring in the dark cave and there’s these riddles that he keeps telling Froggum. Froggum really wants the ring, but he can’t see Rowwin in the dark.” Charlotte nodded, knowing very well how the rest of that chapter would turn out. “Have you finished that chapter?” Gabrielle shook her head. “I’m right in the middle of it.” Charlotte then remembered The Ringmaster Chronicles: The First Age on Netflix. ‘Oh my gosh!’ Charlotte quietly gasped. ‘The second episode comes on tonight!’ Charlotte then thought of the sleepover at Aunt Darlene’s. ‘Will my Aunt Darlene let me see The Ringmaster Chronicles: The First Age? I hope so…’ “My big sister saw the first episode of The Ringmaster Chronicles: The First Age.” Gabrielle told Charlotte. “I wanna see it but my mommy won’t let me…” Before Gabrielle could read another page of The Midgy from The Ringmaster Chronicles one-volume edition, Miss Willoughby got up from her desk to begin class. Gabrielle put the lent book away in her desk for later. Miss Willoughby started the class by handing out the stories that everyone worked on the other day. When she got to Charlotte, she smiled. “I loved your story, Charlotte.” She said with a smile. “You used some very hard words, and I corrected the spelling for them. I love your imagination that you used with your character Chloe. A character that becomes younger? Keep it up with your writing, Charlotte. You are going to be a wonderful author someday.” After that, Miss Willoughby allowed the class some time to work on their stories some more. Since Charlotte felt that she didn’t have anything else to add, she went ahead and unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a notebook that read the following: SUPER SLEUTH CHARLOTTE’S MYSTERY NOTEBOOK For solving The Mystery! This was it. Whatever mystery that Charlotte was trying to solve was in this notebook. Charlotte read one of the first entries: Charlotte’s Super Secret Observations (HIGHLY CLASSIFIED) MYSTERY #1 – The Mystery of the Reverse Aging (AKA Fountain of Youth Mystery or Benjamin Button Mystery) ORIGIN AND OFFSET OF MYSTERY: Cause is still unknown. The strange mystery began after my first run with my friends Lexi and Maya in mid August August 16th. DESCRIPTION OF MYSTERY: Being a really busy (on the verge of becoming famous) supermodel, I, Charlotte Warren, decided to take an extended vacation from my mansion in Beverly Hills to my mother’s house in Langford, California. I gave Raymond, my chauffeur, the day off and took my Petra Gold Rolls Royce Phantom Extended north for a 17-day vacation where I didn’t have to think. The traffic in Los Angeles was BAD on the way up but was okay for the remainder of the trip. I got to Langford with the plan of running with my friends Lexi and Maya, followed by a fun night of eating out and spending the night with them at my mother’s house. My mother interrupts me with a wonderful gift: a pair of Bottega Veneta running shoes. She spared no expense with this pair of designer athletic footwear. The shoes didn’t fit at first, but then after I got ready for my run with my friends, they…fit? Anyway, I love my BV’s and I wear them all the time on my runs now. I go on my run, and I find myself already primed for the workout. After running, I appeared to be in some other alternate dimension. A dream world where I was running a marathon in Paris. When wearing the shoes, I seem to be filled with a boundless endurance where I can run fast without tiring from my pace. After the run, reality seemed to have been altered when both Lexi and Maya told me that I have always been the fastest runner. There’s a possibility that I may have been sent to an alternate universe (NOTE: EXPLORE THEORY LATER!). Next event to suggest alternate reality: My mother told me after my run that my Lululemon shoes didn’t fit me and that my BV’s fit me perfectly, even though I can remember my mother watched me slipping on the BV’s when they didn’t fit. Besides the alternate reality, there has been three different episodes where I have undergone a reduction in my age (NOTE: ORIGINAL AGE IS 29 WITH ORIGINAL BIRTHDATE OF NOVEMBER 8TH, 1994. WILL NEED THIS FOR GETTING BACK ONCE THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED). The notebook was very familiar to Charlotte, as she recently used it to help write her story the other day. She gasped when she read the facts regarding herself. ‘I was a supermodel? I was 29 years old?’ At this point, it almost seemed like a past life to Charlotte, considering how adjusted she felt to being almost 8 years old now. The one thing that did frustrate Charlotte in re-reading one of her older entries was how difficult some of the words were to understand. ‘What is this? Remainder? Chauffer? Endurance? Dimension? Reduction?’ For some reason, the notebook felt harder to understand from when she last read it. Out of frustration, Charlotte flipped through the pages until she was at the most recent entry. She quietly read the most recent one to herself: Episode 7 Today is Ocktober ninth and eye am sevan years old. I faght that lots uv fings were diffant today. One fing that was diffant was my mommy’s bed was bihger. My bafroom door wuz also bihger The bafroom was bihger. I will now right numbers that are diffant about me: Diffant size – Bed was not bihger. Bafroom was not bihger. Mommy’s car wuz not bihger. I was smaller! Diffant school – I don’t go to a middle school anymore. I go to an elmentary school. This made me upset and unhappy. Diffant Grade and Diffant Teacher – I am not in fith grade anymore. I am in secand grade in Miss Willby’s Class (I can’t spell her name so I will just call her Miss W or Miss Willo like the other kids.) Really bad bladder? I had a very bad accsadent at the end of the day. Goodnites will help. They will make it easy to solve the mystery! From everything that is different about me, I think that I am seven years old. Don’t I have a birthday in November? I will ask my mom about it today. That means that I will be eight soon. Need to solve mystery soon or I will disspear. I will probably be a baby first and I won’t be able to walk or even crawl. But I don’t wanna disspear! I want to live! For some reason after reading that, something inside Charlotte was triggered. And for a moment, she realized that the body that she was in was a lot smaller than it should be. Her hands, her feet, her face. The 2nd Grade classroom that she was sitting in. Something about it just didn’t feel right. It was like her innermost being knew something about herself that just didn’t add up. ‘This age…’ Charlotte said to herself, as she glanced at her hands in disbelief. ‘It just doesn’t feel right.’ Something about that Mystery Notebook felt like it made sense. Like it had all the answers that Charlotte was looking for. And as Charlotte thought about it more and more, the body that she was in felt more alien to her. It felt like a prison. A prison of a girl just shy of pre-adolescence. She just somehow knew that this girl wasn’t her. This girl was her, but it just couldn’t be her anymore. Could it? Charlotte sighed, suddenly realizing that something felt very wet. She glanced down to find the crotch of her jeans darkened with a moist puddle beginning to expand where she sat. ‘No! Why now?’ Along with that thing that triggered Charlotte was a sense of who she was. Her adult senses began to fight for control of her mind. ‘Great. I just pissed myself again!’ Charlotte was in disbelief. It was like her body and bladder betrayed her once again. But instead of getting angry, Charlotte’s body began to act on instinct. Tears began to run down Charlotte’s face, and she began to cry loudly. Miss Willoughby gasped and ran over to where Charlotte was. “Oh dear!” She hurried over to where Charlotte was and got her to her feet. She quickly walked towards the door with Charlotte. “Class, Charlotte and I have something to take care of. The teacher’s aide is in charge so ask them if you have any questions. Okay?” Miss Willoughby got Charlotte out of her classroom in record time, as she didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention from the other students or further embarrassment to Charlotte. ‘Poor girl! I hope that Miss Warren has a plan to address this. Charlotte’s frequent accidents are becoming a real problem…’ Meanwhile, Charlotte was crying uncontrollably as Miss Willoughby guided her to the nurse’s office for Charlotte to be changed into a fresh set of clothing. Miss Willoughby gave Charlotte a compassionate stare. “I’m very sorry, Charlotte! Go get cleaned up with the nurse and then come back to class, okay?” Charlotte sadly nodded as Miss Willoughby finished talking to the nurse before leaving the nurse’s office. Brenda glanced at Charlotte and frowned. “Already Charlotte? It’s not even 10 in the morning yet! Here sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up and put into some fresh clothes. Okay?” Charlotte nodded, feeling a hint of her original adult self screaming in frustration at the youthful prison that she had to contend with. Charlotte was confused. ‘This screaming. Was this who I used to be?’ The real Charlotte was in disbelief at how divided her self has become. How has she allowed herself to be so complacent and carefree living her life as an almost eight-year-old? ‘You are 29!’ she told her smaller body. ‘I need to solve the mystery before it’s too late. I will want to read more of that notebook later. It’s the key to getting back to normal. I know it.’ As Charlotte changed into her change of clothing (pink and white panties, a pink shirt, and faded light blue denim overalls with a heart design around the bib and white tear drop patterns all over the fabric.), she once again felt the disconnect between herself and her small and petite body. Some of the lost vestiges of her adult self were somehow returning and stubbornly fighting to regain the control that she lost over herself. She knew that the clothing looked juvenile, even babyish (due to being very petite for her age). But this matter was life or death. Charlotte knew if she continued to drown in her complacency, a day would come where Charlotte would merely cease to exist. ‘Say I keep getting younger all the way to infancy. What then? After infancy, I will just…disappear…’ The very thought of this made Charlotte begin to cry. She didn’t want to disappear. She just wanted to get back to normal. To get out of this horrific reality that felt like something out of The Twilight Zone. ‘Perhaps that story that I wrote in Miss Willoughby’s class might also have some clues on how to get back. I’ll read that notebook and that story.’ Charlotte left the nurse’s office, not even noticing that Brenda told her to ‘have a good rest of her day’. Charlotte’s attention was diverted back to her mission. ‘I have to solve the mystery! Like Blue’s Clues! Like Scooby Doo!’ But Charlotte’s mission was shattered when Miss Willoughby had additional assignments for the students to work on. Another worksheet for Math. Another reading circle with her classmates. And a fun science lesson involving an egg? Very quickly, Charlotte was once again losing her sense of adulthood as her attention was focused on that mesmerizing egg. Miss Willoughby explained that the egg would eventually hatch and that they would be watching it every day. Charlotte was very frustrated that the egg wouldn’t hatch during that day though. ‘I wanna see the egg hatch!’ she shouted in her mind, completely forgetting that she had been warring with her adulthood just a couple of hours ago. The day continued, and Charlotte had so much fun that she almost forgot about the urgency of the mystery that she was trying to solve. It wasn’t that the mystery wasn’t important to Charlotte, but that her smaller body and brain made it more difficult to retain information from her diminishing attention span. What used to feel like effortless mental energy felt more mentally exhausting for Charlotte to hold onto. So the next activities that filled Charlotte’s life very quickly diverted Charlotte from her intended goal. Deep down, she knew that she had to solve it soon, but having to deal with her child-like instincts made this into a tiresome chore. As Charlotte began to read from her Mystery Notebook, she felt a tap on her back. “Charlotte? Hi!” It was Aunt Darlene, who decided to go right to Miss Willoughby’s class to pick Charlotte up. “How are you doing, kiddo?” Darlene smiled. Miss Willoughby glanced at Darlene and gestured her hand toward her, as if she wanted to have a private discussion with her. “Miss Warren emailed me today and mentioned that you would be picking her up instead. Now, I have something to tell you today regarding Charlotte…” The two adults walked away from Charlotte, speaking to each other in hushed tones, with Darlene nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Charlotte saw that Gabrielle was once again reading more of The Ringmaster Chronicles. “My mom usually picks me up a little later so I’m going to read until she gets here.” Gabrielle explained. Charlotte nodded and gave her a smile when she glanced at the book. “You’ll love the end of that chapter! Let me know what you think when you’re finished!” Gabrielle nodded. “I will!” Just then, Charlotte felt another tap from Aunt Darlene and turned around. “Charlotte, we need to stop at the nurse’s office before we go.” Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. “Why?” Charlotte just wanted to go to her aunt’s house. ‘Why does she need to stop there?’ Darlene gave Charlotte a sensitive and compassionate look. “Miss Willoughby told me about your accident today. Your wet clothes are there, and I need to pick them up. I’ll even wash them for your mommy! How does that sound?” Charlotte nodded, as she felt the grip of her aunt’s hand tighten around her hand as they began to walk out of the classroom. “Sounds good, Aunt Darlene!” Darlene smiled. “Also, we still need to pick up Heather from preschool. Wait until she finds out that you’re coming to pick her up with me! She’s going to love that!” Charlotte then thought of Allison. “What about Allison?” Darlene grinned. “She’s at home with daddy. You’ll see her soon enough.” Charlotte walked hand in hand with her Aunt Darlene down the hallway to the nurse’s office. Brenda smiled when she saw Charlotte with her aunt. “Hi Charlotte!” Brenda said, giving her a look of concern. “You seemed to be in a hurry when you last left. Did you have a good day?” Darlene smiled. “I’m Charlotte’s aunt. And we’re going to have a fun evening because she’s going to see her two favorite cousins and we’re going to have a sleepover!” “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Brenda said with a smile. “So you’re here to pick up Charlotte’s clothes? I have her wet clothes in a bag. Here you are. Have a nice weekend!” Darlene grabbed the plastic bag and Charlotte left with her, dangling her backpack over one of her arms while leaving the other strap empty. Charlotte followed Darlene to her car, which was a blue minivan. To her surprise, she saw her car seat in the back seat of the minivan. “Why is my car seat in there?” Darlene smiled. “Your mommy moved it there since you’re going to be spending the night with me, Daniel, Heather, and Allison. Now let your auntie help you in.” Darlene picked up Charlotte and placed her in the car seat, carefully guiding both of her arms into the shoulder harness, before buckling both buckles that secured the five-point harness. As Charlotte was thinking about her day, Darlene was driving out of the elementary school and towards the preschool where Heather was. All the thinking that Charlotte was doing resulted in her falling asleep. Before she knew it, she felt another tap on her shoulder. “Charlotte! We’re here! Little Lilacs Preschool and Daycare!” Charlotte glanced up to notice a ornately decorated building with a beautiful playground outside. But it was the inside that looked a lot more amazing to Charlotte. Once inside with her aunt, she saw beautiful watercolor pastels painted all over the walls of the preschool. The faded tan carpeting was soft, and there was a security check-in point where she was, that separated the lobby from the main room that led into the big room that comprised the preschool and daycare. “Hi Darlene!” The young woman said, noticing Charlotte standing next to her. “Are you here to pick up Heather? And is that your niece?” Darlene nodded. “Yes. She’s the one that I have been telling you about, Rena. She’s a wonderful kid and she’s going to be my helper tonight! I’m going to be watching her while her mommy has fun with her friends.” Rena gave her an understanding nod and they both exchanged glances, which indicated their understanding of what this “fun” was. Charlotte, on the other hand, did not understand what this exchange meant. ‘Just what was my mommy doing with other friends?’ Rena smiled. “Okay. I have you checked in with…Charlotte. Right?” Darlene nodded. “Yup! We’re getting Heather and then we’re all going to check out.” “Sounds good!” Rena said, as her eyes returned to the computer screen. “She should be in the main room with Julia.” Charlotte followed Darlene from a short distance, taking in all the beautiful decorations that made up this pristine childcare facility. After they entered the main room, Charlotte gasped. In the main room was another check-in area before the rest of the room opened up to various different areas where the children could learn, grow, and play. It wasn’t just a basic preschool with toys. All those were clearly there, with a few children playing with them. One area had boys playing with miniature cars and monster trucks. Another had a couple girls playing with Barbies, dolls, and different dollhouses. As they walked deeper into the room, the age range for the toys got younger. There were toys that made sound, along with the traditional toys that infants and toddlers played with. Blocks, stackable colored rings, colored shaped pegs each with their own respective holes, rattles, and various toys used for teething. Another station had play doh, sand, and even a few activity tables that children could use to color, paint, or create some kind of art. Not only were there toys available, but various different ways that a child could use their artistic expression. And for children that were overwhelmed by coloring in the same area, there were private areas that had soft beanbag chairs that allowed the children to read or play in peace. Next to these chairs were racks of children’s books that any child could freely read if they wanted to. At the end of the play area was a blank space with carpeted squares, blankets, and pillows, which was reserved for naptime. There were even a few rows of cribs for children that had more specialized needs. Next to the cribs were a couple changing tables equipped with various different boxes of diapers and Pull-Ups. Another area had a plastic tote that was filled with pacifiers, bottles, and bibs. As Charlotte approached one of the cribs, she needed to pee. Since her accident earlier that morning, she has managed to successfully make it to the bathroom four other times at Langford Elementary. She wanted to make it five for five (or five for six if she counted the accident). She glanced up at one of the young women at the preschool as she began to fidget. “Um…lady?” Charlotte said as she tugged on one of the shoulder straps of her overalls. “Where are your bathrooms? I gotta go!” The young woman smiled and approached Charlotte with a warm smile. “You have to go potty? Hi. I’m Miss Julia.” Darlene nodded. “She’s my niece.” Julia nodded and glanced at Charlotte again. “This is her? Wow! She’s more beautiful than the stories that you told me about her! Oh. Heather’s in the bathroom right now with Laurie. From what I saw, it doesn’t look like she made it.” Darlene nodded with a quiet sigh. “That’s why she’s back in diapers.” “Yes.” Julia said, giving Darlene a pensive stare. “And although it seems like Heather still wants to try and use the potty, we have had a wet diaper with her every time. Three wet diapers and one messy and wet one today.” Darlene gasped. “Four diapers? She usually goes through about three.” Charlotte sighed as she felt the pressure increase on her bladder. If she doesn’t get to the bathroom soon, she’s going to have wet panties. Julia glanced at Charlotte, taking notice of her desperation. “Oh no! It looks like you really need to go. This way…Charlotte right?” Charlotte nodded, as she continued to fidget as she walked with Juilia to where a portion of the room narrowed into a hallway where the bathrooms were. Just as she approached the bathroom, the door opened. Heather was standing next to Laurie, who held a wadded-up diaper. “That’s number five.” Laurie told Julia. “I took her to the bathroom, and it was just as I suspected. Her diaper was soaked.” Heather smiled when she saw Charlotte. “I went potty!” Heather said with a smile on her face. Laurie gave Heather a polite smile. “You tried to, dear. Next time, tell me before you have to go, okay?” Charlotte hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. She undid the straps of her overalls and pulled them down, and then pulled down her panties. She immediately heard the sound of her peeing just as she sat down. ‘Phew! That was soooooo close!’ After Charlotte finished, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and exited the bathroom. Right across from the bathroom was a large chart which tracked the potty-training progress of every single child at the preschool. For kids that were fully potty trained, they were given the title of “Looming Lilacs” and were able to take their name and stick it next to the image of a lilac plant. For kids that were very close to being potty trained, they were given the title of “almost there” and their names were placed next to an image of a nearly mature lilac plant. To the left of this were kids that were making progress in getting potty trained. They were “getting there” and were placed next to an image of a flowering lilac bush. Just below that were kids that were “moving forward” and were placed next to an image of a lilac bush that was just starting to turn green. Lastly were the groupings for the kids that were much earlier in their potty training or those that have experienced some setbacks. The “first steps” kids were those who were making their first steps in potty training either for the first time or once again if they relapsed. They were placed next to an image of a lilac seedling with a couple of leaves sprouting from it. Finally, there was a grouping for the kids that were “not ready”. The names of these kids were placed next to an image of a lilac seed. Charlotte was surprised to find Heather’s name grouped with the kids that were “not ready”. Heather waved her hand at Charlotte. “Hi Charlotte!” Charlotte glanced at her cousin and noticed the puffy white outline that slightly drooped from the underside of Heather’s purple dress. “Hi Heather!” It was all that she could say as her mind retreated to the potty-training chart. ‘Had I attended this preschool, I would definitely be a Looming Lilac!’ Darlene got Heather’s attention and also waved Charlotte over to her. “Heather, Charlotte, we’re going home!” “Wow!” Heather shouted. “Charlotte is going home with me?” Heather quickly shifted her glance to Charlotte and smiled. “Let’s play Barbie dollhouse when we get home!” Charlotte nodded as she noticed Aunt Darlene carrying what looked like a mini backpack made of a nylon-polyester blend. ‘Is that a diaper bag? It’s probably because of Heather, who’s only a seed on the potty-training chart…’ Darlene led both girls to the blue Chrysler Pacifica. And one at a time, she placed both girls in the car seats. Heather was first, followed by Charlotte. “Charlotte ride in car seat with me, mommy?” Heather asked, looking amazed as she watched Darlene buckle both buckles into the five-point harness to Charlotte’s car seat. Darlene nodded. “Yes Heather! Charlotte rides in a car seat just like you! She’s also going to be your helper tonight!” Charlotte nodded as she comfortably settled in her car seat. ‘Yeah! I’m going to help her! Afterall, I have babysat her before…’ The minivan took off and left the Little Lilacs Preschool and Daycare. The silence began in the car as both girls managed to fall asleep in their car seats. Heather fell asleep first. Charlotte followed shortly after. Right before Charlotte fell asleep, she smiled. ‘This is going to be a fun sleepover.’ Charlotte slouched in her car seat, softly exhaled, and fell asleep.

I've said this before, and I'm sure people here have thought it, if not said it out loud, but... "How the heck does this guy keep coming up with stuff to write about on the topic of his underpants? A couple of thousand times?" But here we are. I got got by the Rearz Select yawning waistband hem-of-shirt eating trick. I had wet it once, it was far from soaked, but somehow my shirt got into it, probably because I was wearing just it, and the shirt in question, and no plastic pants. I'd actually been thinking of seeing if they had a good deal going on them, because they came up on the list of Rearz diapers that are being discontinued, but just before I got around to taking a look, the bottom of my shirt got soaked. And then I saw that they want $110 CAD for a case, which is the regular price, if memory serves - they had been on for something like $66 at one point, making them more tempting, being a "real" ABDL diaper, rather than drugstore shelf trash, even if they are fatally flawed, in their single tab design. At $110, nope. I'll buy some BeDry's and go skipping through the daisies. I had a funny exchange with my wife and my younger daughter in the kitchen this morning... as I walked towards the kitchen, I heard her (daughter) making excited baby-talking noises with the dog... "Oooooh, good morning, cuteems, how are you? How are you? Did you sleep well, sweetums? Who's the good boy? Ohhhh, so cute, give me huggies, give me kisseys, ahhhh..." Then, I walked into the room, valiant provider of everything, fixer of all infrastructure, slayer of dragons. "Hi, Dad." So, I said, "That's all I get? Captain Squeaky Toy here, who's only job is to not poop on the floor, gets a ticker-tape parade for coming to eat his breakfast, and I, who have lovingly supported and planned for you, since before you were born, get 'Hi, Dad'....?" Her: "Oh, do you want me to talk baby talk to you, too....?" Spouse: "No comment."

Chapter 46: The Setup Emma. Emma sat in silence with Derek, her mind muddled with everything that had happened the hour before. After she accidentally orgasmed, Chad didn’t say anything after what happened. He gave her a sharp look and pushed her skirt down with a cold expression suddenly taking over his expression, “I think our break is over. I have a meeting coming up so I’ll walk you to Derek’s office.” He switched so quickly to the cold shoulder; Emma was thrown off since his body said otherwise. She didn’t mean to do that… it just was so much at once and she couldn’t control her body! The spanking earlier that morning mixed with the tickling and verbal teasing worked her up to the point she just shuddered in a release of her body’s swirling heat. Emma got off Chad, feeling the weight of the diaper and the mortification of not only wetting her diaper but… she felt tingling in her whole body from the moment still. Even when she got to Derek’s office, she felt the after effects of the orgasm. She played her dragon game in silence as Derek thankfully worked hard on a project he needed to get out before 11AM which left Emma to her thoughts as she kept replaying the moment and how Chad reacted afterwards. He was cold, annoyed with her. She knew he didn’t have a meeting that soon either and that thought crushed her even further as she sank in her swivel chair. She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t even think about her outfit until she got in Derek’s office and Chad left her briskly. Emma was embarrassed to a new level from that. She had her first intimate moment with a CEO of a fucking company who treated her like a baby accidentally, how was she ever going to get over the humility of the situation? It was dumb of her to even think Chad thought anything else of her and now she knew the mistakes she made… but, Chad did show that he was also aroused. Emma’s brain kept switching back and forth, beyond confused of Chad’s reactions to her. As time neared lunch, Derek finally sent out his project and turned to Emma, “So what trouble did little baby Emma get in that you got sent here?” Emma shrugged, “I don’t want to talk about it.” She said with a frown, staring at her phone game. Emma didn’t look up, trying to hide how hurt she really was. She felt Derek’s gaze for a few more moments before he turned back to his computer, “Hm, okay then.” Emma blinked, her eyes watery from the thoughts as she took in a breath, trying to forget it it even happened. Another fifteen minutes passed and Derek said suddenly, “Oh shit.” He opened a new email as his eyes widened on what was on the screen. Emma looked over his shoulder, her stomach dropping as her heart rate skipped in her chest, “Fuck.” Her eyes went to the picture on Derek’s email of Sav in a dominatrix outfit with a whip in her hand and a few more obscene photos and screenshots that Emma had seen before. Then, Emma’s eyes darted to the door opening suddenly, Chad’s intense and unwavering gaze falling on her. “Emma, to my office. Now.”

Chapter 13: ERICA LAUGHED THEN, “Oh, no, these glasses would ruin the movie for you!” “Why?” “Look how much taller I am than you?” I shrugged, “Yeah? What of it?” “Here in the theater for a show like this, they know it’s geared towards a shorter audience?” I looked around. We were secluded, but I could make out some other Littles and maybe other kids. “So?” “So they calibrate these high-tech screens to about your height. You need these glasses to compensate if you’re over a few feet taller than the average Little. It lets us see a second version sized just right for us!” “That’s weird,” I told her. “Seems like a lot of extra steps?” She smiled, “It’s pretty standard here.” Erica giggled, “Plus, they’d look really silly falling off your face!” I giggled about that picture then. Before I could ask any other questions, our food arrived. The waitress put my little table right into my lap and then put what could almost have been a to-go box tray from a restaurant back home on it. There was a compartment with nuggets, another with sauce, and another that held French fries. “That looks good!” Erica told me. I grabbed a nugget, which was giant compared to my hand, and dipped it tentatively in the sauce. I licked the sauce. “Wow!!!” I said. It was like my world exploded in taste and color! The flavor was unlike anything I’d ever tasted before!!! I quickly dipped the whole nugget in the sauce and put as much of a bit in my mouth as possible! Chewing, I savored the flavors! “How can simple chicken nuggets taste this good?!?” I asked Erica. “See, I told you!” “You’re always right,” I agreed. I dunked the rest of the nugget into the sauce and put it into my mouth with a few bites, deciding the sauce on my hand would wipe off onto the next nugget! I had five nuggets. Each was so good that I couldn’t help but devour them in record time! As I finished the last one, I was full, but seeing more of the sauce, I knew I had to do what I did at McDonald’s back home - dip the fries in the sauce! I was finishing the last fry like that when I knew my stomach could take no more! “I see you enjoyed that!” Erica said with a smile. “I wonder, though, if you got any of that sauce in you?” “Huh?” I said. Only then did I look down and realize my bib was splattered with the sauce and some crumbs! Erica reached over with a baby wipe and wiped my face first, and I realized I had sauce all over my chin and cheeks! “This is embarrassing,” I said. “I don’t ever eat this messy!” “Oh, it’s okay, Sweetie,” Erica said, “I’ll get you cleaned right up. Oh, and look, the movie’s starting!” Sure enough, as she wiped my hands, I was distracted by the air suddenly filling with the most amazing colors as Doc Mc Sweetie’s world came alive!!! “Wow!” I said. I was surprised there were no previews, but I was excited to see we would spend an entire day of Doc’s shift! We started with her first patient, a Little whose mommy was worried about how she kept wetting her Pull-Ups and leaking through them. “I don’t know what to do?!?” the mom told Doc. “Oh, don’t worry! Little Izzy here isn’t ready for the potty! That’s okay too! Did you know that GiggleTots makes special Princess Diapers just for Littles like her?” “Those are for babies,” Izzy complained, “I’m a big girl! …I just seem to be having problems all of a sudden! I think it’s something the big kids did to me at school!” Doc laughed, “Izzy, even if that’s true, you’re the one having accidents! But look at it this way: if your mommy puts you in those ultra-comfy GiggleTots, you’ll never have to worry about accidents! Your special diapers will take care of everything!” “You really think this is the answer?” her mommy asked. “I guarantee no more leaks!” “But she used to be able to potty?” “It happens sometimes, but meeting your Little where she is is okay!” Doc told her. “Thanks, Doc; we’ll pick up a pack on the way home!” “Oh, I have a pack right here!” Doc said, “You probably don’t want her to wait that long in that poopy Pull-Up anyway!” “You’re right, Doc! Thanks for helping!” The Little girl looked shocked and blushed, even as the camera showed the mommy lifting her Little girl onto the table. “See, like Doc said, these will work perfectly!” Her mommy said after a cut that she left the room and showed off her cute new Princess Pampers. “And they even have princesses on them, just like you!” ‘Those look comfier than my Pull-Ups were,’ I thought. I was thirsty then and found myself grabbing my cup. It was halfway drained, and I worked to drain it more as I watched the next patient that Doc saw. “Hi, what’s going on today with Jasper?” “Oh, we’re having a problem…” Doc solved that Little’s problem by getting them to accept an adorable stuffed teddy bear to help them sleep! Another solved case, and she moved on to a much tougher patient! The Little girl wouldn’t stop complaining about how her loving mommy was abusing her. Doc showed the mommy an instant way to soothe her little girl with a special pacifier! As soon as she was sucking on it, she started being happy again! “See, pacifiers are special magic!” Doc had said to her mommy. Throughout the movie, I finished my cup and was glad it was refilled with more juice at some point. I felt like I needed to use the potty at one point, but the feeling went away even as my diapee got more warm and comfy! Popcorn arrived about then, too, and I enjoyed munching on the oversized kernels—each popped kernel was the size of my fist! I was eating one slowly, nibble by nibble, when the first realistic case seemed like something I had dealt with. “Doc, my baby is choking!!!!” the mommy said. I watched as Doc performed the Heimlich on the Little. Instead of doing it the way we did it with adults, she performed the infant version. While she did that, someone brought one of the airway-clearing devices that had worked wonders in some situations I’d been in with patients. Sure enough, the piece of chicken nugget came out from the Little’s mouth, and she began recovering. “Doc, what do we do? If you hadn’t been here, my Rey-Rey would have died!” “First, I was here, and she’ll be just fine! You might want to schedule a chance to get first-aid training, though! You never know when something will happen to a loved one!” “I’ll do that next week!” the mommy promised. “Is there anything else?” “Well, maybe Rey-Rey shouldn’t be eating food that’s that big? Littles are much smaller than Bigs, and it’s a good idea to feed them food meant for them!” “No want baby food!” the little girl whined. “It’s not baby food!” Doc laughed, “It’s just special food made smaller for your size! Not all of it is even purees, even though I think those might be best!” “Do you think we should try formula?” “That can be an extra source of nutrition, too! OR, mommy’s special milkies are even better!” Doc told her. Doc solved a few other patients’ problems, and I was excited when she used nanites to solve the last case! It helped solve some mouth pain the Little was experiencing with her teeth. It showed how the nanites could make a special gum above them to help protect them! ‘I don’t think Mo… Erica liked that one?’ I thought back to one of the days at the hospital. I actually appreciated that; it seemed bad to me! Somehow, I was on a third bottle of Plapple juice when the final Little was nursing from her mommy, and I couldn’t help but realize how happy she was when she was done! I nursed from my bottle and wondered if milkies would be even better in it than the Plapple juice! I was surprised it was over when the lights came up, even as Erica took off her glasses and looked at me. “Did you enjoy that?” She asked me. “Uh-huh!!! Doc is so cool!!!” “You really enjoyed your new cup, too, it looks like!” she said as she reached down, moved the table out of the way, and removed the bib from me. Looking at Doc’s picture before she folded it, I felt a little guilty about how dirty she’d gotten! “I made a mess,” I said. Erica giggled, “That’s okay. I cleaned it up! You’re all good!” She reached down and picked me up. “Looks like those cups went right through you! You sure seemed to enjoy drinking your juicy from it!” I blushed, “It’s good!” She squeezed me tighter before putting her hand and patting my diaper. “Better go change you before you leaky!” I blushed but leaned into her. She carried me into the hallway, and I noticed lots of tired Littles being carried now. I smelled a few poopy diapers, too, as we passed some of them with Erica’s faster stride. She brought me into the women’s restroom and waited in line behind a few other mommies. “Looks like someone just came from Doc McSweetie?” The woman in front of us said. It seemed she was holding a genuine baby. “Yep! I’m holding a genuine Doc Sweetie, and she loves her!” The woman giggled, “So does my baby girl here. I like how it lets me keep her little a while longer each night.” ‘Huh?’ I thought. I accidentally found myself staring at a boy getting his diaper changed in front of us. Instead, I turned my head onto Erica’s shoulder. “Looks like someone’s getting sleepy!” The woman said. Erica patted my back and said, “Probably, but she’s got a few more hours before bedtime.” I found myself tuning out her discussion and felt my thumb poking at my lips then. I moved my lips up and down on the end of it for a few minutes. As Erica finally got an open table, I was embarrassed at the line of people behind me able to see my change! I put the rest of my thumb into my mouth then and began sucking on it. It wasn’t as good as a bottle, but it was comforting. “Let’s get that nasty thumby out of your mouth?” Erica said with a smile. “Huh?” I asked as she pulled it out and held something else out. I had just enough attention to see that she was holding a pacifier. She wiggled the nipple into my lips. I almost refused it, but I remembered how Doc said they were great! ‘Doc’s never wrong!’ I told myself. As soon as it cleared my lips and I began sucking on it, I discovered she was right! I smiled up at Erica, who playfully touched my nose before pulling my jeans down to expose the soaked diaper. “You would have swam away if we didn’t change this soon!” She said to me with a smile. I blushed and crossed my arms nervously. As she opened my diaper, I made eye contact with a mother holding her Little boy. She smiled at me and gave me a little finger wave. I smiled back and then turned back to Erica. She was just pushing my legs back to wipe my bottom. Soon, I was in a nice dry diaper, and she had washed her hands. “I need to hit the potty now,” she said with a smile. I was sat down on the floor beside the toilet she used. I watched her pull her panties down and sit down, thinking, ‘I used to do that…’ ‘Why would you want to?’ another voice responded. When we eventually cleared the restroom, she said, “We have one more stop!” “Oh?” I asked. “Yep! Honey told me this morning that she’s lonely!” “Yeah, she had to leave all of her friends and family back home. She was sad,” I told Erica. “Well, how about we try to find her a new friend?” I smiled, “That would be great! She can make a new one just like I did!” The pacifier was still in my mouth, but she understood me. Erica carried me a short distance to a massive toy store and placed me on my feet in an aisle in the stuffed animal section. I was astounded by how many stuffies there were! “There’s a lot here!” I said. “Yes, there is! But I bet we can find her friend!” “Uh-huh,” I agreed. “Do you think she wants a bear friend?” She asked me. I thought for a second, “No, she probably wants a different kind of friend…” We walked the aisles for a long while before finding a stuffed tiger! “Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!” I sang. “What’s that?” she asked me. I giggled, “It’s from a musical back home!” “So you have two of them but not the third?” She said. I nodded. “Well, sounds like we need a lion too!” “You said one friend?” I asked in surprise. “I think we can do an extra one for such a special occasion!” “Really?!?” I asked. “Really,” she smiled at me. We found a friendly-looking lion with a cute smile, a bit bigger than the new tiger. “Looks like someone must have been a very good girl?” The worker at the register said. “Yep!” Erica squeezed me, “The best!” “Wow, sounds like you should get a sticker!” “A sticker?” “Yep, Sweetie, here! Since you have a bear, let’s get you a ‘Beary Good Girl’ one!” I smiled and leaned into Erica. When we reached the car, I noticed I was feeling sleepy and kind of thirsty. “Erica?” I asked her as she buckled me in. “Yes, Sweetie?” “Do you have anything else to drink?” She smiled, “Of course! Always prepared!” I watched her dig in the bag, and she pulled out another baby bottle. “Milky?!?” I said excitedly “Yep! I kept it in a special pouch that kept it cold! But give me a second; it’ll be nice and warm and taste even better!” “Wow!” I said with a smile. I watched her check something on the side of the bottle before she handed it to me. “That should get you through the trip home!” I nodded, “Thank you!” “Silly, you’ll have to take your paci out, though!” She smiled at me as she pulled it out, and I put the bottle’s nipple into my mouth to replace it. A suck was all it took to have the delicious taste all through my mouth! “So good!” I said around it. “Glad you like it, Sweetie!” Erica closed the door and began the trip home to her house. I was about half into the bottle when my eyes stopped wanting to stay open. I kept nursing, though, since I didn’t want to waste a single drop of my special, tasty milkies! Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I didn’t realize we were even home until Erica was changing my diaper and putting me into my new pajamas for bed. “How long have we been home?” I asked. “Just a little bit, Sweetie. I figure, though, once I get you in your jammies, it’s time to go night night?” My stomach rumbled then. “Are you hungry again, already?” She asked me. I thought briefly and nodded, “I don’t know how, though!” “Hollow leg!” She said with a smile as she pulled up the zipper on the footed sleeper. I shrugged, “Don’t know.” “Well, I think it’s too late for me to feed you a full meal. How would you feel about another bottle of milk?” “Can it be from my Doc cup?” She smiled at me, “Sure, I already washed it! Why don’t you stay up here, and I’ll be right back?” “Okay,” I said. She put me down in the crib. I saw Honey already had her new friends in the crib and crawled over to them. “Hi, Honey! You met our new friends! This is Eleanor,” I introduced her to the Tiger, “And this is Simba!” with the Lion. “Oh, yes, I know you’ll all love each other!” I said as I pulled them all into a group hug. We talked to each other about the day and how I was in a diaper for most of the day today. “I don’t know what happened. One day, I was potty trained, and now I’m not?” Eventually, Erica showed up with the new Doc McSweetie cup and picked me up from the crib, still hugging Honey. “Come over here,” she said to me. “I can hold it,” I told her as she held it. “I know you can, but it’s much nicer to let people do things for us sometimes?” I nodded at that, “I guess that’s true…” She slipped the nipple into my mouth, and I began nursing. With only a quarter left, I felt my stomach churn some, and suddenly, my insides emptied into my diaper!!! I could feel the icky mess sticking to my skin, and it sloshed around some in the diaper for a moment before the liquid was absorbed. I started to cry, but she just put the nipple back into my mouth. “Finish up, baby; I’ll change you after you do.” I was changed into a fresh diaper even as my eyes closed, and I felt my pacifier go into my mouth again. I hugged my new friends as I fell fast asleep. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like Button and leave a comment! I should post again Tuesday/Friday for real this week! Thanks for the humor and keeping me honest last week! 🙂

comments on this chapter of the course of history praise criticism all welcome Chapter 03: Remember and live Lizzy looked at Madeline with concern as she held her nearly empty wine glass. The silence between them was heavy, and the atmosphere felt charged. "There really was no other choice," Lizzy said, finally breaking the silence. Madeline, visibly dejected, shook her head. "No. The nanny who usually takes care of Margot is in Florida. Most of the others are in college. Schools are closed at this time of year. Daycare is the only option." Lizzy grimaced, leaning back against the couch. "But you know Margot is going to freak out about having to wear diapers again, right?" Madeline sighed deeply, sadness evident in her eyes. "I know that." The weight of the situation was even greater because of the secret Madeline was keeping. Working for the FBI, even on an unofficial leave, she knew she couldn't tell Lizzy about certain details. That would not only put Margot's life at risk, but it would compromise the entire operation. Lizzy tried to shift her position on the couch, as if searching for less harsh words: "There's another problem... The birth certificate. Won't that be a problem?" Madeline straightened up, as if she had already thought of it. "No. A friend of ours, Richard, is taking care of it. He's getting a fake certificate and is also involved in the case against the school that rejected Margot before." Lizzy hesitated before speaking again. "You already have enough problems, Maddie. I didn't want to bring up another one... But..." Before Lizzy could finish, Madeline interrupted her, raising her hand. "My sister, I assume it's something hairy, isn't it?". Lizzy took a deep breath and gave a slight nod. "Oliver sent me. He's your boss at the unit, after all. He told me to let you know about the Blue-Ocean case." Madeline froze at the mention of the name. The Blue-Ocean were a notorious criminal group, responsible for a number of international smuggling and trafficking operations. Madeline had always wanted to catch them, but she'd never had the chance. Now, the case was in her hands. She was silent for a moment, processing the information. Then, finally, she looked up with determination. "I accept." Lizzy gave a slight smile, satisfied. "Okay. I've already sent you the files. They're in your email." Madeline nodded, still deep in thought. "Well, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day." They both stood up. Madeline collected their wine glasses, while Lizzy headed upstairs. Before going up, Lizzy stopped halfway up the stairs and turned around with a mischievous smile. "Oh, I almost forgot. You know I won a bet with Oliver, right?" Madeline raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Bet?" Lizzy laughed. "Yeah. I bet I could convince you to come back to the FBI. I won $500." Madeline snorted, but couldn't help but smile a little. "Good night, Lizzy." Lizzy shrugged, laughing as she walked up the stairs. Madeline was left alone in the living room, staring at the glasses in her hands. -------------------------&&&-------------------------- Madeline sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes fixed on the digital clock beside her. It was past two in the morning, but sleep would not come. Her mind kept racing to imagine Margot’s reaction the next day when she found out she would have to go to daycare. She knew it would be a struggle—and not an easy one. She sighed, feeling the weight of all the decisions she had to make that day. With a weary gesture, she picked up her iPad from the bedside table and turned it on. Maybe working on the Blue-Ocean case would help her take her mind off things. The file was open on the screen, detailing the organization she had come to know so well. Madeline had tried to destroy them years ago, but now they seemed stronger, more audacious. In addition to drugs and illicit rental services, the report indicated that the group was involved in something even more heinous: kidnapping children to satisfy the whims of powerful rich people. Her stomach turned as she read the information. She hated these high-class men and women who bought everything, including human lives, without any remorse. They acted as if the world were a chessboard, and all the pieces were there for their enjoyment. Anger took over her. With unnecessary force, Madeline put the iPad aside and leaned back against the pillow, trying to calm her mind. It was then that she noticed the background image on the device: a photo of Margot, smiling, her eyes bright. Madeline picked up the iPad again, but this time she opened the photo gallery. She scrolled through the past, seeing images of Margot as a baby, her first wobbly steps, her first trip to the park, her birthdays. The memories warmed her heart, even as they also brought a pang of longing. Suddenly, she stopped at an old photo. It was of her father, Kahn, standing next to a spotless black ’67 Impala. He was leaning against the car, a peaceful smile on his face. A memory flashed back to her, clear as if it had happened yesterday. Flashbacks start --------------------------------- Madeline was sixteen years old, and she was in the garage of her family’s house. The smell of oil and rubber was strong, but she loved it there. Kahn was working on the car’s engine, as he did whenever he wanted to relax. “Give me the key, honey,” he said, without taking his eyes off the engine. Madeline picked up the tool from the workbench and handed it to him. He thanked her with a slight smile and continued working, his face serious and focused. After a few minutes of silence, Kahn stopped, wiping his hands on a cloth. He looked at his daughter, his eyes full of something she only understood years later. “A piece of advice,” he began, his voice deep but gentle. “Always put your family before work. They are your most precious possession.” Madeline blinked in surprise. “Why are you saying that, Dad?” He smiled, but there was a weight behind it. “I know you want to join the FBI, Maddie. And this is advice from an agent who missed out on good family time because of work.” Kahn closed the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door. “Get in here,” he said, nodding to her. Madeline did as he was told, climbing into the passenger seat. He turned on the radio and inserted a cassette tape. Alan Jackson began playing Remember Me. As the music filled the car, Kahn looked at his daughter. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Madeline felt her eyes well up. “Thanks, Dad.” He gave her a mischievous smile. “And if I ever leave, don’t let your sister get her hands on this car. I don’t want to see it on the wall.” Madeline laughed, remembering the time her sister had crashed their mother’s car into a pole. “I promise.” They laughed together, and she treasured that moment. Flashbacks end ----------------------------------- Madeline came back to the present, her eyes slightly teary. She smiled as she remembered Kahn's words. Despite everything, she had always tried to follow his advice, putting Margot above everything else. She turned off the iPad, lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, feeling her heart lighten. Tomorrow would be a difficult day, but she would face any storm for her daughter. After all, family always came first.

Crossing Worlds 2 A story by SolaraScott Chapter 8 - Welcomed Guests As the door clicked shut behind Daddy, leaving the girls alone in the nursery, the tension in the air seemed to thicken. Hannah immediately turned to Emily, her pacifier falling from her lips as she clutched her bunny tightly. Her wide eyes shimmered with fear and frustration, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Emily,” she whispered urgently, her words spilling out in a rush, “what are we going to do? We can’t possibly watch that show! You know what it does to Littles!” Emily heaved a sigh, leaning back against the play area wall. Her fingers brushed idly against the hem of her dress as she stared at the foam mat beneath her, worry etched into every line of her face. She seemed to slump slightly, her usual composed demeanor giving way to the weight of their situation. “I don’t think we have much of a choice,” she admitted softly, her tone tinged with resignation. “Miranda made it very clear what would happen if we didn’t follow the guidelines.” Hannah’s cheeks flushed with anger, her grip tightening on the bunny as she struggled to process Emily’s words. “But this wasn’t part of the plan!” she exclaimed, rising slightly. “We agreed to come back because we thought it would be safe! No one told us about... about this!” Her frustration bubbled over, her small fists balling against her lap as she shook her head. “How could they do this to us?” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly. “How could Daddy agree to this and not even tell us?” Emily straightened slightly, reaching out to place a calming hand on Hannah’s arm. “Hannah,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the turmoil visible in her eyes. “I don’t think Daddy knew.” Hannah blinked, her anger faltering as she looked up at her sister. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice quieter but still laced with disbelief. Emily sighed again, her gaze shifting toward the door. “We know how manipulative and controlling the government is here,” she explained. “They probably didn’t tell him about the experiment until we agreed to return. Maybe not even until after we arrived. You saw how embarrassed he was when he explained it.” Hannah’s expression softened slightly, though the frustration in her eyes lingered. She bit her lip, her mind racing as she tried to piece it together. “But what are we supposed to do?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “We can’t just sit there and let them test us like... like lab rats.” Emily met her sister’s gaze, her amber eyes filled with determination and regret. “I don’t like it any more than you do,” she said firmly. “But right now, we’re stuck. If we refuse or push back too hard, Miranda will swoop in, and she won’t have the same... leniency that Daddy does.” Hannah’s chest tightened at the thought of Miranda, her sharp gaze and cold smile flashing through her mind. The idea of being under that woman’s control made her stomach churn. Emily’s hand tightened gently on her arm, grounding her. “We have to go along with it for now,” she said softly, her tone soothing despite the weight of her words. “At least until we can figure out something better. Daddy’s on our side. He won’t let anything bad happen to us.” Hannah looked down, her fingers absently stroking the bunny’s soft fur. The anger in her chest began to ebb, replaced by a reluctant understanding. She didn’t like it—she hated it—but Emily’s words rang true. They had to choose their battles carefully, and this wasn’t one they could win. Not yet. Taking a deep breath, Hannah nodded faintly, her voice small as she whispered, “Okay.” Emily offered her a faint, reassuring smile, gently squeezing her arm. “We’ll get through this,” she said quietly. “Together.” The sound of approaching footsteps broke the room's stillness, and both girls turned toward the door as Daddy stepped inside. His warm, familiar smile was back, starkly contrasting to the tension that had lingered after Miranda’s departure. “Here we go,” Daddy said cheerfully, his deep voice soothing as he stepped closer, carrying two bottles. He knelt beside Emily first, offering her a bottle filled with vibrant orange juice. The bottle was cute, more fitting for a young toddler than a baby, with a cheerful design of animals frolicking in a meadow. Emily hesitated momentarily before taking it, her fingers curling around the smooth plastic. “Thanks,” she said softly, her voice steady but reserved. She glanced at Hannah, her expression guarded as she watched Daddy turn his attention to her sister. Daddy leaned in and scooped Hannah into his arms with practiced ease, cradling her against his chest. She looked up at him, her eyes flicking to the bottle in his other hand. Unlike Emily’s, this one was filled with a creamy white liquid that swirled thickly as he moved. “What’s that?” she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension. Daddy hesitated briefly, his smile softening as he met her gaze. “It’s a formula, sweetheart,” he admitted gently. “Miranda’s already been adjusting the ‘necessary’ care guidelines for each of you since she left. I’ve been getting updates from her, and formula will be a regular thing for you.” Hannah sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she processed his words. She wanted to protest, to argue against the indignity of it all, but the memory of Miranda’s stern gaze and the rules she had laid out silenced her. She knew better than to fight something she couldn’t change—at least not now. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Daddy’s smile grew a little warmer, his affection evident as he gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “Good girl,” he murmured, holding the bottle to her lips. “Let’s see how you like it.” Hannah opened her mouth obediently, letting the soft rubber nipple slip between her lips. As she began to nurse, the formula flowed smoothly, surprising her with its sweet and thick taste reminiscent of a watered-down vanilla milkshake. She relaxed almost immediately, the comforting rhythm of nursing and the pleasant flavor easing the tension in her chest. “There we go,” Daddy said softly, his voice filled with pride as he carried her to the rocking chair in the corner. He sat down carefully, cradling her securely in his arms as he began to rock them gently. The soothing motion of the chair, combined with the warmth of his embrace, made it impossible for Hannah to hold onto her earlier frustration. The room blurted slightly at the edges as she focused on the bottle, her small hands gripping its sides as she continued to nurse. The gentle creak of the rocking chair and the low hum of Daddy’s voice, as he hummed a soft tune, created a cocoon of comfort around her. Hannah felt her eyelids grow heavy, her body sinking into the steady rhythm of the moment. She wasn’t sure if it was the formula, the rocking, or simply the feeling of being held, but a deep sense of relaxation began to wash over her. The earlier anxiety and frustration seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet contentment she hadn’t realized she craved. As the bottle emptied, Daddy tilted it slightly, encouraging her to take the last few sips. “Good girl,” he murmured again, his tone soft and full of love. He kissed her forehead lightly, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back as he rocked her gently. As Hannah finished the last few sips of the bottle, Daddy gently removed it from her lips. He adjusted her in his arms, lifting her over his broad shoulder. His hand supported her back as he began to pat it lightly, his firm but gentle motions coaxing a soft burp from her. The sound made her cheeks flush slightly, but before she could dwell on it, Daddy leaned her back just enough to wipe her face clean with a soft cloth he had retrieved from the nearby shelf. “There we go,” he said warmly, taking her pacifier and offering it to her. She took it gratefully and nursed on it softly as he cradled her once more and resumed the gentle rhythm of rocking. As the chair creaked softly, Daddy glanced over at Emily, who had been quietly sipping her juice from her bottle in the play area. “How’s your bottle, Emily?” he asked, his tone light and affectionate. Emily paused, lowering the bottle slightly as she considered her response. “It’s... pretty good,” she admitted, her tone soft but genuine. “The juice is really sweet.” Daddy chuckled, his warm laughter filling the room. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said with a smile. “Only the best for my girls.” Hannah snuggled closer against Daddy’s chest, the warmth of his embrace and the steady motion of the rocking chair lulling her into a deeper state of relaxation. Her body felt heavy, her limbs cushioned by the soft padding of her diaper and the plush fabric of her onesie. The lingering sweetness of the formula blended with the faint scent of Daddy’s shirt, creating a cocoon of comfort that seemed to melt away her earlier worries. But as she lay there, a growing sensation began to build in her lower abdomen—a familiar, pressing need to pee. Her cheeks flushed hotly as she became acutely aware of the feeling, her body tensing slightly against Daddy’s chest. The idea of wetting herself, even in the safety of her diaper, brought a fresh wave of embarrassment. Hannah hesitated, her heart beating faster as she grappled with the feeling. She knew what was expected of her knew this was part of the role she had agreed to play. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax, focusing on the soft rhythm of Daddy’s rocking and the soothing sound of his voice as he continued to speak with Emily. After a few moments, she let go, allowing the warmth to spread through her diaper. The sensation was comforting—the initial release brought a slight tickling warmth that quickly soaked into the thick padding, spreading evenly as the diaper absorbed everything. The plush interior swelled slightly, cradling her with a newfound snugness that added to the sense of security she had been feeling in Daddy’s arms. Her cheeks burned as she shifted slightly, the soft crinkle of the dampened diaper faint but unmistakable. But there was no judgment in Daddy’s embrace, no reminder of her vulnerability beyond the comforting weight of his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back. Hannah closed her eyes, her pacifier bobbing softly as she nursed. Despite her embarrassment, her diaper's relief and comforting warmth left her surprisingly at ease. Daddy’s steady presence and the gentle rocking of the chair made it easy for her to let go of her self-consciousness, at least for now. She felt deeply, undeniably safe, and as she settled back against him, her earlier tension seemed like a distant memory. A few moments passed in quiet contentment before Daddy returned to Emily. “All done with your juice, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone light and affectionate as he glanced at her. Emily lowered her bottle, the last sip of juice gone, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m done,” she replied, setting the bottle aside and brushing her hands against her dress. “Good girl,” Daddy said with a warm smile. He stood, still cradling Hannah securely against his chest. His large hand rested under her bottom for support, and as he adjusted his grip, he paused briefly, his expression shifting. A soft laugh bubbled from his throat as he gave her a gentle squeeze, his hand patting her lightly over the back of her diaper. “Well, well,” he said with a playful lilt, his voice rising in delighted surprise. “Did my little peanut use her diaper already? Such a good girl!” Hannah’s cheeks flared red, the heat spreading to her ears as she buried her face against Daddy’s chest. “Daddy!” she squeaked, her voice muffled by his shirt, though a giggle escaped despite her embarrassment. But Daddy wasn’t deterred by her reaction. He began to sway slightly as he carried her, his tone shifting into exaggerated baby talk, his delight unmistakable. “You did such a good job, didn’t you?” he cooed, patting her padded bottom again. “Daddy’s so proud of his little one, using her diaper just like a good baby. Yes, you are!” Hannah couldn’t help but giggle again, her earlier embarrassment fading under the warmth of his praise. His playful tone and the sheer joy in his words made it impossible not to smile. Her small hands clutched his shirt as she peeked up at him. Daddy’s grin widened as he saw Hannah’s reaction, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, look at you,” he cooed, his tone exaggerated and playful as he continued to pat her diapered bottom gently. “Such a good baby, going potty in your diaper for Daddy. You’re just the best little peanut ever, aren’t you?” Hannah squirmed in his arms, her face buried in his chest as giggles emerged. “Daddy!” she squeaked, her embarrassment clear, though she couldn’t stop laughing at his sheer enthusiasm. But Daddy wasn’t about to stop. “Yes, you are!” he continued, rocking her gently as he carried her toward the living room, his voice a mix of affection and teasing. “The best baby in the whole wide world. Daddy’s so proud of you.” Hannah’s laughter continued, her small hands clutching his shirt as she wiggled in his arms. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and amusement, but the warmth in Daddy’s words made it impossible to feel anything but loved. Emily followed behind them, her expression carefully neutral as she watched the playful exchange. Despite herself, she felt a small tug of comfort at the scene. Daddy’s unwavering warmth and care were undeniable. When he reached the living room, Daddy settled onto the couch, shifting Hannah in his arms as he adjusted to sit comfortably. Emily climbed beside him, tucking her legs under her and smoothing her dress as she sat. Daddy continued to cuddle Hannah, his large hand resting lightly on her back as she nestled against him. Her giggles began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of awareness as Daddy adjusted her in his lap. He turned her slightly, sitting her upright and facing her toward the large television mounted on the wall. The sight of the screen brought everything rushing back, and the smile slipped from Hannah’s face. Her small hands gripped the edges of Daddy’s shirt as her breathing quickened slightly, the weight of what was coming crashing down on her once more. The playful comfort of the moment was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of dread. Daddy noticed the change almost immediately, his hand moving to rub her back gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Hannah glanced at Emily, whose expression mirrored her apprehension. Her sister gave her a small, faintly forced smile. The television flickered to life, casting a soft glow across the room. Bright, cheerful colors filled the screen as a lively theme song began to play, accompanied by giggles and playful sounds that immediately drew attention. Hannah tensed in Daddy’s lap, her small hands gripping his shirt as the cartoon characters of Naomi and Oliver danced onto the screen. They were animated Littles, with exaggerated proportions to emphasize their childlike appearance, wide eyes, rosy cheeks, and movements brimming with over-the-top energy. Naomi appeared first, twirling in a frilly, flower-patterned dress that flounced around her as she moved. Beneath the hem of the dress, a thick cloth diaper was visible, its bulk exaggerated in true cartoonish fashion. Her hair was styled in perfect pigtails, each tied with an oversized pink bow, and her sparkling eyes radiated confidence and charm. Despite her bubbly demeanor, something was unnerving about her exaggerated smile—a condescension hidden beneath the saccharine sweetness. Following close behind her was Oliver, his animated form bounding onto the screen with a series of playful hops. He was dressed in simple blue overalls, the straps slightly askew as though intentionally rumpled to make him look “adorable.” Beneath the overalls, the unmistakable outline of a thick disposable diaper was visible, its crinkling exaggerated with every movement. His mop of messy brown hair and toothy grin completed the image of the perfect, endearing Little—though his overly enthusiastic energy carried a hint of forced cheer. Together, the pair danced across the screen; their synchronized movements perfectly matched the saccharine melody of the theme song: “With Naomi and Oliver, come play today! We’ll learn and laugh and sing. Hooray!” Naomi and Oliver stopped mid-spin as the song ended and turned to face the screen with bright, exaggerated smiles. “Hi, Littles!” Naomi chirped, clapping her hands together in excitement. Her voice was high-pitched and melodic, dripping with patronizing affection. “We’re so excited to have you here for a special episode today!” Oliver hopped in place, waving enthusiastically at the screen. “That’s right, Naomi! And do you know why today’s episode is so special?” Naomi leaned in slightly, her smile widening as though sharing a secret. “Because today,” she said with deliberate sweetness, “we have some very special guests joining us!” Hannah’s heart sank, her fingers tightening on Daddy’s shirt as she exchanged a panicked glance with Emily. Her sister’s expression was tense, her jaw set tightly as she stared at the screen in disbelief. Oliver grinned widely, his animated face lighting up as he exclaimed, “That’s right! Today, we’re welcoming two very special Littles—Hannah and Emily!” Hannah’s breath hitched audibly, her pacifier slipping from her mouth as her eyes widened. They knew their names?! The shock of hearing their names spoken aloud was like a cold slap, and she felt her stomach twist in disbelief. Emily’s fists clenched tightly at her sides, her face frozen in a mask of quiet horror. Naomi clasped her hands together, her smile brimming with saccharine delight. “Welcome, Hannah and Emily!” she cooed. “We’ve been waiting for you and can’t wait to show you how much fun we will have together!” Oliver bounced up and down, his voice bubbling with feigned excitement. “Yeah! We have fun activities planned to help you be the best Littles!” The two animated hosts turned to one another with matching grins, their exaggerated expressions filling the screen with an unsettling sense of forced enthusiasm. Hannah’s chest tightened, her breathing quickening as she fought the rising tide of panic. This wasn’t just a children’s show—it was tailored to them, a carefully crafted tool designed to pull them deeper into the infantilized roles they had reluctantly accepted. The realization left her feeling exposed, as though the screen itself could see straight through her. Naomi and Oliver’s voices filled the room, their cartoonish giggles carrying an eerie undertone; Hannah couldn’t help but feel like the walls were closing in. * The plane shuddered slightly as it came to a halt, the hum of the engines tapering off as passengers began to stand and retrieve their belongings. Ash remained seated momentarily, her hands gripping the armrests as she tried to steady her thoughts. Her gaze shifted to Miss Kaylee, who sat beside her in the oversized airplane seat, her cheeks flushed crimson as she attempted to cover herself with her small arms. Miss Kaylee’s mortification was palpable. Her diaper crinkled softly as she shifted awkwardly, one hand pressed to her bare chest while the other tugged futilely at the edge of the seatbelt that Ash had unbuckled moments ago. Her wide eyes darted around the cabin, avoiding the glances of curious passengers as she shrank into herself, her blush spreading to the tips of her ears. Ash’s own emotions were a tangled mess. The dynamic between them had shifted so drastically that she struggled to understand it all. Just hours ago, she had been the Tweener navigating life under the shadow of Amazons, but now, she was in control. The responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders as she reached over, scooping Miss Kaylee into her arms with a practiced ease that surprised even herself. Miss Kaylee let out a small squeak of protest, her small hands clutching at Ash’s shirt as she was lifted. Her legs dangled awkwardly, the thick padding of her diaper forcing them apart in a way that only heightened her embarrassment. Ash grabbed her carry-on bag with her free hand, slinging it over her shoulder as she entered the aisle. The cabin filled with passengers' murmurs as they shuffled toward the exit. Ash moved with purpose, her expression set in a determined mask. She had barely made it a few steps before an Amazon woman seated nearby turned her attention to them. “Oh my goodness!” the Amazon exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she leaned forward slightly. “What a precious little thing you’ve got there!” Ash tensed instinctively, her grip tightening slightly on Miss Kaylee. The Amazon’s gaze was fixed on Miss Kaylee, who buried her face in Ash’s shoulder, her mortification radiating from her trembling form. “I just adore new Littles,” the woman continued, her voice taking on the sickly sweet tone that Amazons reserved for Littles. “They’re always so bashful at first, trying to come to terms with their new reality. It’s adorable.” Ash’s jaw tightened, but she forced a polite smile, nodding curtly as she shifted Miss Kaylee higher in her arms. “Thank you,” she said tersely, hoping the interaction would end quickly. But the Amazon wasn’t done. Her gaze flicked to Miss Kaylee’s state of undress, and a smile of approval spread across her face. “You’re doing such a wonderful job,” she gushed, her tone dripping with condescension. “Parading her around in just her diaper like this will make her so much more accepting of any clothing you choose later. She’ll know she has no say in the matter—it’s a brilliant strategy.” Miss Kaylee let out a soft whimper, her small fists clutching at Ash’s shirt as she tried to disappear into her caretaker’s arms. Ash could feel the heat of her blush against her neck, the humiliation practically rolling off her in waves. Ash swallowed her frustration, forcing herself to remain calm as she replied, “She’s adjusting well. Thank you for your... encouragement.” The Amazon beamed, clearly taking Ash’s response as validation. “You’re very welcome,” she said warmly, waving as Ash stepped forward to continue deplaning. “You’ll make an excellent Mommy!” Ash didn’t respond; her teeth clenched tightly as she approached the exit. Miss Kaylee’s small frame trembled in her arms, and Ash tightened her hold. As Ash stepped onto the jet bridge, the cooler air brushed against her face, momentarily grounding her amidst the whirlwind of emotions. She glanced down at Miss Kaylee, who was still curled against her chest, trembling with humiliation. The sight stirred a conflicting mix of feelings. Part of her felt a deep, almost smug satisfaction at the irony of the situation. Here was an Amazon—one of the powerful, untouchable giants who had spent their lives imposing their will on Littles—reduced to the helplessness they so often inflicted. It was poetic justice, a reversal that Ash couldn’t entirely dismiss. But the other part of her, the part that remembered the raw sting of her own time as a helpless Little, couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pity. She knew all too well the burning humiliation Miss Kaylee felt—the helplessness and loss of dignity. Even now, the memory of being paraded around in nothing but a diaper, with no control over her circumstances, sent a pang of discomfort through her chest. Still, no amount of pity could erase the betrayal. Ash’s jaw tightened as the memory of Miss Kaylee’s actions replayed in her mind. The trust she had started to rebuild, the fragile bond that had begun to form—had all been shattered the moment Miss Kaylee tried to strip her of her autonomy. That pain and betrayal was a wound that wouldn’t heal easily. Ash straightened her back, her resolve hardening as she carried Miss Kaylee through the terminal. The girl squirmed slightly, her small hands clutching at Ash’s shirt, and Ash’s grip tightened instinctively. She adjusted her hold, patting Miss Kaylee’s diapered bottom with an almost mechanical rhythm, reminding her that she was in control now. The signs for taxi services loomed ahead, their bright arrows pointing toward the next leg of their journey. Ash moved purposefully, her steps steady as she navigated the bustling terminal. The weight of Miss Kaylee in her arms was both a burden and a symbol—a reminder of the shift in their roles and responsibilities. As Ash pushed through the airport doors, the blustering cold hit her like a slap. Rain whipped through the air, carried by gusts that tugged at her hair and clothes. The low hum of sleek hover taxis filled the bustling terminal entrance. The vehicles glided smoothly, stopping to pick up passengers before floating into the rain-slicked streets. Miss Kaylee shivered violently in her arms, her teeth chattering audibly as goosebumps rose across her bare skin. Ash glanced down, her jaw tightening as she weighed her options. The sight of Miss Kaylee’s trembling form stirred a pang of conflicted emotion—she didn’t want to comfort the woman who had so recently betrayed her trust, but neither was she heartless enough to let her freeze. With a resigned sigh, Ash shifted Miss Kaylee’s weight in her arms and reached into her bag, retrieving a quilted blanket. The fabric was soft and warm, one of the few comforts Ash had packed for herself, but she unfolded it and wrapped it snugly around Miss Kaylee anyway. The smaller woman immediately snuggled into the blanket, her trembling subsiding as she breathed relief. “Thank you,” Miss Kaylee murmured, her voice expressing genuine gratitude as she rested her cheek against the blanket. Ash didn’t reply, her expression remaining impassive as she adjusted her grip on the bundled girl. She didn’t need the thanks but acknowledged it with a subtle nod before returning to the taxi. One of the sleek vehicles pulled up to the curb, its glowing sign flashing green to indicate availability. Ash opened the back door with her free hand, and the cool, automated voice of the cab welcomed her inside. She carefully stepped into the vehicle, lowering Miss Kaylee into the child-sized car seat on one side of the rear bench. The irony wasn’t lost on Ash, but she worked quickly, buckling the straps securely over Miss Kaylee’s chest and fastening the buckle between her legs. Miss Kaylee squirmed slightly, her blush deepening as she adjusted to the snugness of the straps. She avoided Ash’s gaze, her hands clutching the blanket's edges as she mumbled, “I’m fine. You didn’t have to…” Ash cut her off curtly, climbing into the seat beside her and closing the door. Then, in a clipped but clear tone, she gave the cab driver the address to her new apartment. The driver nodded, tapping the coordinates into the navigation system. The hover taxi lifted gently from the ground, the faint hum of its engines blending with the patter of rain against the roof as it floated smoothly into the stream of traffic. Ash leaned back in her seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and stared out the window. The cityscape blurred by, a mix of glowing neon lights and towering steel structures shimmering through the rain. Despite the warmth of the taxi’s interior, the cold of the evening seemed to linger, a subtle reminder of the long road ahead. Miss Kaylee remained quiet beside her, her small form bundled tightly in the blanket as she looked down at her lap. The soft rustle of the car seat’s straps shifting with her movements was her only sound, her earlier gratitude hanging in the air unacknowledged. For Ash, the silence was a small mercy. She had enough to think about without adding words to the mix. Her gaze remained fixed on the rain-streaked window, and her thoughts turned to the challenges waiting for her at her new apartment and the complicated role she now found herself playing. The taxi floated onward, its gentle hum a steady rhythm against the backdrop of the storm. End of Chapter 8

Things continued on the way they were for a few weeks, and then one day I came home from school, and Mom was waiting. She had the silk pajamas. “Do you want to explain these?” I cringed. She had found where I’d hidden them in the bottom of my dresser. I figured there was no point in lying. “Allie gave them to me.” “Why would she give you pajamas?” “It was pajama day at school. She decided it would be cute if we matched. She has a pair just like those.” “You wore these to school?” “It was pajama day,” I pleaded. Mom seemed to be mulling it over, but then she picked up the pajamas and left the room. Oh, well. I’d not see those again. I wasn’t sure when I’d have gotten the chance to wear them again, but I doubt Mom was returning them to my dresser. The weekend came, and I had put the incident out of my mind. Saturday morning, Mom came in to let me out of my sleeper. After she removed the diaper, I found she was reaching for the jar of butt paste. I had a bad feeling about this. She applied some to me and put a new diaper on me. I knew I was going back into the sleeper. Back in the pajamas, she told me to come down for breakfast. I set about my morning routine. I had to pee, so I wet the diaper. I did my chores until lunchtime, not wanting to give my Mom anything else to complain about. As we sat down for lunch, my sister asked, “Why is he still in his pajamas?” “He seemed to like to wear pajamas at inappropriate times, so I’m giving him the opportunity to do so.” Sister thought about that for a bit. As lunch ended, Mom asked me if I needed my diaper changed. There was snickering from my siblings. “He’s got a diaper on, too?” my sister asked. “Yes, he always wears a diaper under his pajamas because he wets the bed.” “But when he’s awake?” “It’s just too difficult to let him out of the sleeper whenever he needs to go. So, he can just use the diaper.” “Ewww.” Mom led me up to my room and changed me. I heard snickering as Mom zipped the sleeper back up. I looked at the open door of my room and saw that my sisters were there, and they must have watched this process. Just great. As I passed by my sister, I heard her quietly taunt, “pissy pants.” I moped around the house for the rest of the afternoon. Then my parents announced we were going out for dinner. “Do you want to be changed before we leave?” my mother asked. I nodded. After removing my wet diaper, she started to put another one on me. I was disappointed. I knew now the sleeper was going back on, and I’d be wearing it to dinner. We got into the car and headed out to Applebee’s. As we waited for our table, I tried to be inconspicuous, but I saw a young boy pulling at his mother’s arm and pointing at me. I guess the idea that there was a teenage boy in a toddler sleeper was pretty odd. At least he didn’t know I had a diaper on. Dinner came, and I ate. At least seated, I wasn’t attracting too much attention. But on our way out, I heard a girl say, “Mom, you said I couldn’t wear my pajamas in public.” I didn’t hear the response. The next morning was a replay of the previous day. I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes when I realized that I was going to need to poop. The cramping got to the point where I couldn’t hold it any longer. I let loose in my diaper with an audible fart. It had been years since I’d been forced to poop in these while I was sick. This was different. I felt the large mass ballooning out the diaper. “Did you just poop?” my sister asked. “No,” I lied. She came over and pushed hard on my rear. I felt poop squish all over my rear. “I think you did.” She yelled out, “Mom, Jason pooped!” While waiting for Mom’s response, Sis turned to me and started chanting, “poopy pants, poopy pants.” “That’s enough of that,” Mom said sternly to Sis. “Since you seem overly interested in his poopy diaper, you can help change him.” Great, I thought. Could this get any worse? “Ewww!” Sis complained, but she knew not to argue with Mom. We went up to my room. My mom spread out a changing pad on the bed, and got me out of the sleeper. She had me lie down. I tried not to spread the poo around any further, but it still smooshed further into my rear as I did. “Remember when you changed your little brother as a baby? Open up the diaper and then use it to remove as much of the poop as you can.” My sister complied but made faces while doing so. My mother took the diaper, rolled it up, and handed Sis wipes to clean me up. Finally, she handed Sis a clean diaper and put it on me. “OK, go wash your hands while I help him back into his sleeper.” Later, Sis came to me. “I hate you. I didn’t sign up to be your diaper changer. Try not to poop anymore today.” I seethed a bit but said nothing. It was her fault for teasing me. Monday morning came, and Mom let me out of the sleeper. But then I saw the butt paste come out. “No! I can’t wear a diaper to school,” I protested. “You have to. You know you can’t get to the toilet with the sleeper zipped up.” “I can’t wear that to school.” “Sure, you can. You wore pajamas to school already. I talked to the assistant principal and he said it would be OK. The nurse said to come to her office if you need a poopy diaper changed.” Resigned, I got back in the sleeper, and she zipped me up.

High school was working out for me. My grades were mostly OK. I had some run-ins with the assistant principal but nothing serious, I thought. I even had a girlfriend, Allie. She was everything I wanted. We spent a lot of time talking and hanging out together. And she was quite cute. “Are you ready for spirit week?” she asked me one day. “I’ve got a Boston Bruins jersey I’m going to wear on jersey day,” I said. “You’ll like what I have for that day,” she said. “What?” “It’s going to be a surprise,” she said with a smile. “How about pajama day?” I thought about what I wore to bed and cringed. No way I was going to wear that to school. “Nah, I’ll probably skip that. My pajamas suck.” “How about we dress alike. I’ll get us matching pajamas,” she proposed. I thought about that. Sure, why not? We’d be cute together. “OK, but nothing to childish,” I said. “No problem.” Spirit week came, and on Monday, I put on my hockey jersey and made it to school. I got there and found Allie wearing a shirt with a map on it. “What’s this?” I said. “Well, it is Jersey day,” she said. I looked confused still. “She pointed at the map. This is Jersey.” I looked carefully and noted it was a map of New Jersey. She had me. I broke into laughter and she joined in. The next day, she showed up wearing blue satin pajamas. She handed me a package and sent me toward the boy’s room. I took my shirt off and put on the top. It indeed was the same as hers. I slid off my jeans and put the bottoms on. These were really nice. Too bad I didn’t have a set like this at home. I headed out into the hall. “How do I look?” I asked. “Nice she said, adjusting them a bit.” The reached over and gave my rear end a little tweak. “Are you wearing your shorts under this?” “Yeah,” I said, a little embarrassed. “You don’t wear underwear under these.” She grabbed my hand and pushed it against her rear. I was startled, and my hand felt the incredibly soft skin of her buttocks through the satin. “See,” she said. I shrugged and got my underwear off and the bottoms back on. I went back into the hall, and she repeated the little squeeze. “Perfect,” she said. More people started to show up, many in various pajamas. Allie and I were a hit in our matching ones, and some of her friends took pictures of us. She gave me a big hug, our skin pressed together with just the satin between us. It was exciting. As the day passed, I felt the satin against my bare skin. This was an entirely new experience for me. I could wear these every day, I thought. At the end of the day, I switched back into the jeans and t-shirt I had worn to school, carefully folded the pajamas up, and put them in my backpack. Some other day, I thought to myself.

Someone inquired about footie pajama stories, so I decided to try one... Part 1: The Footie Life I don’t really remember my toilet training, but I remember getting a set of pajamas with the top separate from the bottoms. The bottoms still had the feet attached, but they were meant to commemorate my big boy status and make it easy for me to get to the toilet at night. I remember growing up and seeing my younger brothers and sisters transition from one-piece sleeper babyhood to regular pajamas. All went fine until I was seven or so. I started to wet the bed. Mom didn’t make a big thing about it at first, but she got annoyed as it became increasingly more frequent. Finally, one day, she snapped. “You can’t keep wetting the bed,” she pronounced one evening. I protested that I was trying, but I couldn’t stop it. “That’s not what I mean,” she said with a smile. “You might still pee at night, but you won’t make the bed wet.” I was bewildered. “Come, let’s get you ready for bed.” She led me to my room and got me out of my clothes. She had me lie down on the bed and then slid something under me and then up between my legs. As she fastened the tapes, I realized it was a diaper. Before I could protest, she threaded something else over my legs. She had me stand up and pull it up the rest of the way, holding it so I could put my arms in it. She zipped it up, and I realized I had been placed in a one-piece sleeper, complete with attached feet. It all dawned on me. The diaper. The sleeper. I was being returned to my babyhood. I started to cry, which completed the transformation. Mom hugged me. “Now, now. This will be best. You don’t want to wake up in a wet bed.” I tried to regain my composure. OK, she was right about the diaper, maybe. “Why do I have to wear the baby pajamas?” I protested. “It’s just a one piece. Lots of people wear them,” she said, though I couldn’t think of anyone who did. “Regular pajamas are for people who need to use the bathroom at night.” “But what if I need to go?” I asked. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just use the diaper.” Great, I thought to myself. Mom proceeded to tuck me in, and I cried a bit more until I fell asleep. The next morning, I rolled out of bed. I stood up and then realized I was wearing the stupid pajamas. I reached around to grab the zipper on the back of the outfit, but I couldn’t reach it. “Mom,” I called out. “What, dear?” “I could use some help.” She came up, and I admitted I couldn’t get out of the pajamas. She reached around behind me and unzipped me. I quickly got the thing peeled off of me. Now, I was standing there in the diaper, which was beginning to sag. “I see you made good use of the diaper,” she said, patting the front of the thing. She quickly undid the tapes and balled the diaper up. “I guess we need to get you a diaper pail.” Sure enough, by that evening, a new item was in my room. I inspected it and found it was a “Diaper Genie.” Just great. Bedtime came, and I was diapered and put in pajamas that night. I soon got into the routine. The good news was that I wasn’t waking up in a wet bed. I had to admit that the diaper was more comfortable than that. The pajamas were a pain because I had to get assisted in and out of them, but at least I never had to wear them out of my room. One after dinner, I got into a brawl with my little brother. By the time my mother got us separated, she was angry. She told us to go to our rooms and get ready for bed. I went upstairs, removed my clothes, and put the diaper on. I got the sleeper in place, and my mother soon arrived and zipped me up. She then told me to come downstairs with her. I got to the living room, and my father and brother were already there. My brother was in his pajamas, but he gave a little smirk at the sight of me. My father started in. “You boys can’t be fighting like that. I was tempted to send you to bed now.” I looked at the clock. It was only 7:30, hours before my bedtime. “But your mother points out you still have some chores to do, and I don’t think you’ve finished your homework. So you can do that in your PJs and then go to bed.” Great. I set about doing the things I had to do. My sister came over and whispered (nice sleeper) to me with a giggle. I reddened but continued to work. After a bit, I realized I needed to use the bathroom. “Mom? Can you help me?” I said, hoping she would understand what I wanted. “Help you what?” she responded. “Unzip me so I can use the bathroom.” “You don’t need to use the bathroom. Just go in your diaper.” My siblings started giggling. She couldn’t be serious. “Get back to work.” I continued what I was doing, but I couldn’t hold hit. I stopped and let loose in the diaper. This was just too much. Eventually, I went to bed. The next morning the diaper sagged heavily with both the wetting from the evening before and my normal nighttime wetting. And so my life progressed. As I outgrew the sleeper, Mom got me a larger one. Except for a few behavior transgressions, I had to get in the diaper early. Then one day, after breakfast, I felt sick. I told Mom I didn’t fell well. She put her hand on my forehead and said she thought I did have a fever. I’d not be going to school. She led me up to my room and grabbed a diaper. Ugh. I knew I was going to be in the sleeper for the duration.

One hundred strangers awaken to a stark, clinical nightmare—confined to cribs, bound in thick diapers and restrictive sleepers, and trapped under the merciless control of their enigmatic captor, Mistress. Stripped of freedom, dignity, and the lives they once knew, they are thrust into The Nursery Trials, a harrowing series of challenges designed to break their bodies, minds, and spirits. With each trial, new horrors emerge—humiliation, manipulation, and the ever-present threat of elimination. Secrets fester, alliances fracture, and trust is a fragile illusion as contestants grapple with their desperation and the twisted rules of Mistress’s games. The allure of a growing jackpot looms like a poisoned promise, but the true cost of survival is far greater than any of them could imagine. Welcome to the Nursery Trials. Will you endure or crumble under Mistress’s rule? * Hello and thanks for checking this story out! I have been working on another story and wanted to see if people enjoyed the concept and idea, and to see if this story is worth continuing. As such, I am releasing the first chapter for your reading pleasure. I would love your feedback, input, and even ideas! Without further delay, please, enjoy this first chapter in, The Nursery Trials The Nursery Trials A story by SolaraScott Chapter 1 - Trial 1 A blinding light seared through Ivy’s eyelids, jolting her awake with a sharp gasp. Panic flared instantly, her heart hammering as adrenaline surged through her veins. She shot upright, her breath catching as another light flicked on with a deafening click, then another, each one illuminating the vast, featureless room around her in harsh, clinical white. The cold air bit at her face, but it wasn’t enough to stop the dread crawling up her spine. The faint crinkle beneath her was the second thing she noticed. Her breath caught as she shifted, the soft but unmistakable bulk pressing against her thighs. A thick plastic diaper, encased in the flannel softness of a sleeper, snug against her body. She clenched her jaw, a wave of indignation rising like bile. Ivy sat up quickly, her fingers curling around cold metal bars. Her crib—no, her cage—was sealed from above, the bars forming a lid that locked her inside. She glanced down at herself, her hands trembling as they brushed over the stitched number on her chest: 24. The faint rustle of movement drew her eyes outward. Beyond her crib, the room unfolded in sterile symmetry. The cribs were arranged in two concentric semi-circles, each identical in design—sleek, metallic, and cold—their bars gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. The space felt vast and impersonal, the clinical white of the walls stretching endlessly without a single mark or adornment to break the monotony. Each crib bore a small plaque near the foot, displaying a name and number in stark black letters. Ivy’s gaze darted to the cribs nearest her, their occupants stirring like she had moments ago. Groggy faces appeared behind the bars, eyes wide with confusion and fear, muffled murmurs escaping trembling lips. Her grip on the bars tightened, her knuckles whitening as she scanned the rows of cribs. The rhythmic sound of shallow breathing and rustling fabric filled the air, punctuated by the occasional creak of metal as someone shifted within their confined space. Every crib’s occupant wore the same flannel sleeper, their numbers stitched prominently over their chests. The faint hum of machinery buzzed faintly in the background. She clenched her fists, her breath quickening, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. What was this place? Why was she here? And who could have orchestrated something so calculated, so cruel? A sudden mechanical whir from the center of the room silenced the murmurs. Ivy’s grip tightened further as she stared ahead, her mind racing. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. The mechanical whir from the center of the room crescendoed, then abruptly cut off, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. Cries of confusion and fear erupted from the cribs, echoing off the sterile walls. “What is this?!” a boy shouted hoarsely. “Let me out!” another voice pleaded, high-pitched and trembling. Ivy clutched the cold metal bars of her crib, her heart hammering. She scanned the room frantically, catching fleeting glimpses of other terrified faces peering from behind their bars. And then, without warning, darkness swallowed the room. The cries turned to panicked yells, and the rustle of bodies scrambling in their cribs mixed with the occasional clang of metal. Ivy froze, her breath hitching, and her eyes darted in every direction, seeing only the void. A sharp, mechanical click cut through the chaos and a single spotlight burst to life, its harsh beam piercing the darkness. The light landed dead center of the room, illuminating a figure emerging from swirling fog. She was tall, her silhouette sharp and commanding. Dressed entirely in black, the figure’s long coat billowed as she moved with deliberate grace. A sleek, expressionless mask obscured her face, its glossy surface reflecting the spotlight like a mirror. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room as she raised her arms slowly and ceremoniously, turning in place to meet the gaze of every stunned contestant. The hum of speakers crackled to life, and her voice boomed, resonating through the room. “Welcome, my dears,” she began, her tone smooth yet cold, dripping with an unsettling authority. “I am Mistress. You’ve been chosen for a unique experience. A trial of the body, mind, and spirit.” A chilling pause. She tilted slightly as if savoring the silence before her next words. “You are no longer the masters of your fate. Here, you are but children under my care, and every step you take will be watched and judged.” The cries of confusion returned, but now they carried a sharper edge, tinged with anger and desperation. Some rattled their bars violently, while others knelt, gripping the rails tightly. “What do you want from us?!” someone yelled, their voice raw. “This is sick!” another cried, pounding their fists against the metal. Mistress stood in the spotlight, her posture unyielding as the shouts of rage and confusion grew around her. Yet, she didn’t respond. Instead, with a deliberate motion, she reached into the swirling fog at her feet and pulled out a sleek, silver briefcase from seemingly nowhere. Seeing it silenced some of the outbursts, curiosity sparking amidst the tension. Mistress placed the briefcase on the floor with a soft metallic click, her gloved fingers releasing the latches with practiced precision. The lid sprang open, revealing neatly stacked bundles of cash. Ivy’s breath caught as her eyes widened. Around her, murmurs of disbelief rippled through the room, the indignant yell beginning to falter. Mistress lifted the briefcase and slowly turned in a full circle, ensuring every contestant could see its contents. After her turn, she set the case down and retrieved another from the mist. Again, she opened it, revealing more stacks of bills. The process repeated, the cases accumulating around her like a fortress of wealth. The shouting faded into stunned silence, the cold light gleaming off the cases now filled with tantalizing possibilities. Mistress raised her head, her voice sharp and commanding as it echoed through the room. “This is your prize: a jackpot starting at two hundred fifty thousand dollars.” A loud, startling CLACK resounded, shocking Ivy. A mechanical hum followed it. Several large screens mounted around the room flickered to life. Bold, white numbers filled the screens: $250,000. Mistress continued, her tone unwavering. “For every contestant eliminated, the jackpot increases by twenty-five thousand dollars. By the end, only one of you will walk away with the fortune you see before you.” The room was deathly silent now, the weight of her words sinking in. Eyes darted between the cash and the screens, a mixture of disbelief, greed, and dread settling over the contestants. Finally, a voice broke the silence. “What if we don’t want to play?” Mistress stilled, her head tilting slightly. Then, a slow, chilling grin spread beneath her mask, her voice taking on a sinister edge. “Ah, an excellent question. You’re free to leave at any time.” She gestured toward the cribs. “Under each of your pillows is a set of switches. Press them simultaneously; a face scanner will confirm your identity before releasing you. But be warned: once you leave, there’s no coming back.” Ivy’s heart pounded as the room remained eerily quiet, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on everyone. For now, the choice was theirs—but Mistress’s grin suggested there would be consequences for any who dared to walk away. The silence in the room was shattered by a defiant voice from one of the cribs. “This is insane!” a man yelled, his voice trembling with anger and fear. “I don’t know what kind of sick game this is, but I’m not sticking around to find out!” Ivy turned toward the voice, her breath catching as she watched the man rip apart his pillow. Fluffy stuffing spilled out, revealing two small switches embedded in the mattress. Without hesitation, he flicked them both and leaned toward a sleek panel Ivy couldn’t see. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a metallic groan, the crib’s mattress gave way beneath him, and the floor split open into a dark, gaping hole. The man barely had time to cry out as he plummeted through the opening. His panicked yelp echoed briefly before the trapdoor snapped shut with a thunderous clatter. The room fell into stunned silence, save for the faint hum of machinery. Ivy stared at the now-empty crib, her heart hammering in her chest. Once glowing faintly with a name and number, the small plaque at its base pulsed red before dimming completely. Then, with a soft beep, the screens around the room flickered. The number displayed—$250,000—rose steadily, finally stopping at $275,000. A collective gasp swept through the room. Mistress’s voice returned, calm and unyielding. “As I said,” she intoned, her hands clasped behind her back, “the jackpot increases with each elimination. Whether you walk away or are removed… the choice is yours.” Ivy’s stomach churned, her eyes locked on the empty crib as a cold realization settled over her. There was no safety here. The stakes were higher than anyone could have imagined, and Mistress’s calculated and unwavering smile promised far worse than money could ever compensate. The room remained eerily silent, the shock of what had just transpired hanging heavy in the air. A shaky voice finally broke the quiet. “What happened to him?” the speaker asked, their tone trembling with fear. Mistress’s grin widened, though her mask hid much of her expression. “Oh, he’s alive,” she said cryptically, her voice lilting with mock reassurance. She offered no further explanation, her silence only deepening the room’s unease. Another voice spoke up, louder and more determined. “What do we have to do to win this… game?” Mistress turned her head slowly toward the source of the question, the gleam of the spotlight catching the polished surface of her mask. “Each day,” she began, her tone dripping with calculated menace, “there will be trials. You will compete, and at the end of each round, the last-place contestants will be eliminated.” A murmur rippled through the room as Mistress paused, letting her words sink in. “What kind of trials?” someone called out desperately. Mistress chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. “You’ll find out soon enough.” “When do they start?” another voice asked, this time with a mix of fear and impatience. Mistress’s tone brightened as if she found the question amusing. “The Nursery Trials,” she said with a flourish, “begin immediately.” Before anyone could respond, the spotlight snapped off, plunging the room into darkness. A few heartbeats later, the overhead lights blazed to life, flooding the space with their clinical glare. The cold, empty concrete was all that remained; Mistress and the money were gone. The sound of clicking mechanisms filled the room as the sides of the cribs unlocked and swung open, allowing the contestants to leave their confines. Ivy hesitated, her pulse racing as she pushed herself to her feet. Others cautiously stepped out around her, their movements stiff and uncertain. A few fumbled with the zippers of their flannel sleepers, trying desperately to remove them. Ivy reached back, her fingers brushing against the small metal pull at the nape of her neck. She tugged, but the zipper didn’t budge. She tried again, harder this time, but it was as if the mechanism was fused shut. Frustration and panic bubbled up as she realized she wasn’t alone; others were also struggling, their hands clawing at their necks with growing desperation. The room filled with murmurs of fear and anger as the contestants realized their predicament. Whatever the Trials had in store, they would face them in these humiliating, restrictive garments. Ivy clenched her fists, her mind racing. Before anyone could react further, a sharp, jarring buzzer blared from the end of the hall. The sound cut through the rising murmurs, making everyone flinch. Ivy whipped her head around to see a massive door split the side of the room. Its seamless surface slid apart to reveal an entrance bathed in bright, white light. Fog drifted lazily through the opening, curling over the threshold like ghostly tendrils. With her heart pounding, Ivy hesitated for a moment, then felt the soft bulk of her diaper shift between her legs as she awkwardly stepped forward. She half-waddled, half-walked toward the light, instinctively shielding her eyes from its intensity. Around her, the other contestants moved with similar apprehension, their footsteps shuffling against the cold floor. The light shifted as she passed through the portal, revealing an expanse that left her breathless. They had stepped onto an enormous patio, its tiles stretching far and wide, polished to a reflective sheen. Beyond the patio lay a sprawling grass field, lush and impossibly green, as though plucked from a postcard. But it wasn’t the field that caught Ivy’s attention—it was the shelves lining the edges of the patio. Towering above them like monoliths, they were stocked with massive baby bottles, each nearly two liters in size. The oversized bottles gleamed under the light, their transparent surfaces filled with an opaque white liquid. Each bottle bore a bold number etched onto its side, perfectly matching the numbers stitched onto the contestants’ sleepers. Nervous voices broke the silence as the contestants took in the surreal sight. “What the heck is this?” someone muttered, their voice unsteady. “Are we supposed to drink those?” another asked, eyeing the bottles suspiciously. Ivy swallowed hard, her unease growing as she continued to take in the strange scene. Everything about this place felt wrong—disorienting, dehumanizing. She could feel the tension rising among the group as their confusion turned to fear. Mistress’s voice crackled to life over the hidden speakers, smooth and authoritative, cutting through the chaos. “Welcome, contestants, to Trial 1,” she announced, her tone laced with a sinister undertone. Behind them, the massive door slid shut with a heavy clang, sealing them into whatever twisted ordeal awaited. “The rules are simple,” Mistress continued. “To get you started, you must each finish the bottle labeled with your number. Once completed, you will crawl to the far side of the field, where a door has been opened for your escape.” Ivy squinted, her eyes scanning the grassy expanse until she spotted it—a faint outline of a door, its frame illuminated against the far side of the field. It looked impossibly distant, as though purposefully placed to test their limits. “Good luck,” Mistress purred mockingly. Without warning, another sharp BUZZER blared, signaling the start of the trial. Before Ivy could process what was happening, a collective cry of shock rang out around her. Her body jerked as her sleeper suddenly constricted, tightening around her limbs like a vice. She gasped, collapsing to her knees as the snug fabric held her in place, forcing her hands to the ground. She tried to push herself back up, but the sleeper refused to yield. Every attempt to rise was met with firm resistance, her legs unable to straighten, her movements restricted to an awkward crawl. Panic swelled around her as other contestants struggled against their constricting sleepers, their cries of distress filling the air. “This can’t be real!” someone shouted. “We’re trapped like animals!” another voice wailed. Ivy’s palms pressed onto the cool tile, her heart racing. She could feel the bulk of her diaper as she shifted her weight, the humiliating sensation only adding to her growing dread. The tense atmosphere shattered as a woman’s voice rang out, filled with defiance and fear. “I’m not doing this!” she screamed, her voice trembling. “I’m not playing your sick games—I’m getting out of here!” The woman began crawling furiously across the field, her movements quick and determined despite the constricting sleeper. The other contestants watched, stunned, before several followed her lead, desperation driving them forward. But they barely reached ten meters when the grass beneath them suddenly shifted, rippling like a living thing. Ivy froze, her breath caught in her throat as the ground beneath the fleeing contestants undulated violently, throwing them off balance. A cold, disembodied voice echoed across the field, emotionless and mechanical. “Contestants must finish their assigned bottles before proceeding.” The crawling figures hesitated, their panic mounting as the grass beneath them began to twist and pull. The first woman let out a scream, clawing at the ground as it seemed to wrap around her arms and legs, dragging her down. “No! No, please!” she shrieked, her voice rising in terror. Others tried to turn back, their cries mingling with hers, but the field showed no mercy. The grass seemed alive, pulling them deeper as they fought futilely against its grasp. In seconds, they were swallowed whole; their screams abruptly cut off as the ground stilled once more, leaving no trace of them behind. The remaining contestants erupted in panic, their cries filling the air. “They’re gone!” “What is this place?!” “They didn’t even—” Ivy’s stomach churned as she watched the horrifying scene unfold. Her gaze flicked to the towering bottle marked with her number, its opaque liquid glinting mockingly in the light. Most contestants were caught in a whirlwind of emotions—crying out in fury, fear, and sheer terror. Some pounded the ground in frustration, while others yelled obscenities into the empty air, their voices echoing across the massive patio. But a few, driven by cold logic or pure survival instinct, approached the towering bottles. They recognized the truth: defiance wasn’t an option. Ivy hesitated momentarily, her heart pounding as she glanced at the bottles and then back at the now-immaculate grass where the others had disappeared. She swallowed hard, dread coiling in her stomach, and began crawling awkwardly toward her bottle. The massive container loomed before her, its glossy surface reflecting the harsh light. Her number, “24,” was boldly printed along its side, leaving no room for doubt. She gritted her teeth, wrapped both hands around the oversized bottle, and immediately felt its weight. “Great,” she muttered under her breath, adjusting her grip as the bulk of her sleeper made moving it even more cumbersome. It quickly became clear there was only one way to manage this. With a frustrated sigh, Ivy shifted her weight, awkwardly rolling onto her back. She clutched the bottle tightly, using both hands to steady it above her as she brought the massive rubber nipple to her mouth. The moment the nipple touched her lips, she hesitated, her cheeks burning with humiliation. But the memory of the grass swallowing those who tried to flee pushed her forward. If this were the price to stay alive, she’d pay it. Ivy gave the bottle a tentative suck, wincing as a stream of sweet, warm liquid flowed onto her tongue. The taste of vanilla was surprisingly pleasant, but the texture was thick and cloying. She grimaced but continued nursing, realizing the nipple’s design made it impossible to drink quickly. Each mouthful was laborious, forcing her to work for every swallow. Other contestants around her had adopted similar positions, and the sound of soft suckling and the occasional frustrated groan broke the tense silence. Ivy’s mind raced as she focused on the task, her eyes fixed on the towering door at the far end of the field. She wanted out—badly—and if drinking this ridiculous bottle was the first step, she’d do it. She’d do whatever it took to survive. Ivy wasn’t alone. One by one, more contestants joined her, dragging themselves to their assigned bottles with visible reluctance. Apart from a small handful who sat off to the side, some openly weeping, the majority begrudgingly accepted the grim reality. Ivy focused on the task at hand, her lips wrapped tightly around the rubber nipple as she continued to nurse. Each suckle grew more laborious, and her cheeks ached from the repetitive motion. The thick, sweet liquid weighed heavily in her stomach, and its warmth spread uncomfortably as her tummy groaned in protest. She paused briefly, panting softly, her arms trembling from holding the bottle steady. Unaccustomed to such repetitive effort, her muscles throbbed with fatigue. But the stakes seemed too high to stop. Soft chimes echoed occasionally around her as contestants finished their bottles, signaling their permission to crawl across the field. Ivy glanced out of the corner of her eye, watching as some began their slow, awkward journey, their movements unimpeded by the previously restrictive grass. She gritted her teeth and resumed drinking, her frustration mounting with every slow, forced swallow. The humiliation was almost unbearable, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as she worked to finish the task. Finally, after an eternity, the bottle grew lighter in her hands. With each diminishing gulp, the relief that the end was near gave her a second wind. Her chest heaved as she took the last few agonizing mouthfuls, her stomach now bloated and uncomfortable. When she finally sucked air, a soft chime rang out above her, signaling her completion. She let the empty bottle fall to her side, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she gasped for breath. For a moment, she lay there, staring up at the endless sky, her body trembling from exertion. But seeing others crawling steadily toward the far door snapped her out of it. Ivy wiped her face with her hand, gritted her teeth, and rolled back onto her hands and knees. The first step of the trial was done, but her journey across the field had just begun. Ivy began crawling, the cold grass brushing against her hands and knees as she slowly approached. Her eyes locked on the far door, and each movement was a mix of determination and dread. Around her, other contestants struggled to do the same; their awkward, diapered crawling slowed them down. Up ahead, she noticed some contestants had stopped entirely, clutching their stomachs and groaning in discomfort. A few had collapsed onto their sides, their faces twisted in pain and confusion. Ivy’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand what was happening. But a sharp, familiar gurgle rose from her stomach before she could fully process the scene. She froze mid-crawl, her eyes widening as a wave of nausea and pressure bloomed deep within her abdomen. “What…?” she whispered hoarsely, clutching at her midsection. A powerful cramp seized her, forcing her to double over, her body trembling from the intensity. The ache in her bladder became unbearable, and her bowels screamed for release, every muscle straining against her will. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she struggled to hold back, the sweet, warm liquid from the bottle now turning into a cruel trap inside her. “What… did they feed us?!” she groaned, her voice tinged with panic. The oppressive weight in her stomach left her paralyzed, her body betraying her with every second. She looked around, seeing more contestants succumbing to the same torment, some sobbing openly as they lost the battle. Ivy gritted her teeth, forcing herself forward despite the agony twisting her insides. The cramps came in relentless waves, each more unbearable than the last. Her body screamed for relief, but she refused to stop, crawling desperately toward the far door. But she barely made it a few more meters before she felt her control slipping. Her breath hitched, her face burning with humiliation as her muscles began to give out. “No… no, no, no…” she whispered, her voice trembling with dread. A sharp, involuntary fart escaped her, reverberating faintly within the tight confines of her diaper. She froze, her arms trembling as the last of her strength ebbed away. Then it happened. A deep, overwhelming pressure surged through her abdomen, and her bowels gave in entirely. Ivy groaned in shame and discomfort as the warm, sticky mess surged into her diaper, spreading quickly around her hips and settling thickly against her skin. The diaper, thick and crinkly beneath her sleeper, swelled visibly, straining against the snug fabric as it absorbed the sudden onslaught. Each shift of her body sent the mess squishing further, the sensation unmistakable and mortifying. Her breath came in shallow gasps, tears stinging her eyes as the humiliation of her situation washed over her. The soft bulk of her soiled diaper pressed firmly against her with every motion, a constant reminder of her helplessness. Around her, other contestants were enduring similar fates, groans, and sobs, blending into a symphony of shared misery. Yet, despite the shame and discomfort, Ivy kept crawling. Ivy pressed forward, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. Every agonizing meter brought fresh waves of discomfort as her bowels continued to empty, the warm, sticky mass spreading and squishing with each desperate crawl. Her bladder gave way next, a hot rush soaking into the already swollen padding around her waist. The thick diaper absorbed it all, expanding further under the pressure of her body and the tight confines of her sleeper. Tears streamed down her face as she finally reached the far door, her breaths coming in ragged sobs. The moment she crossed the threshold, a soft chime echoed above her, and a mechanical voice announced, “Contestant 24 has completed the trial.” Ivy collapsed onto the cold concrete floor, curling into a ball as her body shook with exhaustion and humiliation. The coolness of the ground seeped through her sleeper, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the mess encasing her. She wasn’t alone. Around her, other contestants lay sprawled in similar states, their diapers heavily swollen beneath their sleepers, their faces streaked with tears. Some whimpered quietly, while others remained still, their bodies too drained to breathe. The room grew tense as more contestants crossed the threshold, each greeted by the same chime and automated announcement. The sound of soft crying and labored breathing filled the air as they collapsed one by one. Finally, a sharp buzzer sounded, and the door behind them slid shut with a metallic thud. The mechanical voice returned, cold and final: “Trial 1 complete. Remaining contestants eliminated.” The announcement sent a fresh wave of dread through the room. Ivy’s tear-streaked face turned toward the door, her heart sinking as she realized the meaning of those words. The contestants left in the field… they were gone. A soft chime drew Ivy's attention to the far wall, where a large screen flickered to life. Bold numbers filled the display, steadily climbing higher and higher as the automated voice counted the accumulated prize money. “$875,000,” it finally declared, the number glowing ominously against the black background. Ivy blinked, her breath catching as realization dawned. Twenty-four contestants—gone in a single trial. Her stomach churned, though whether from the revelation or the remnants of her ordeal, she couldn’t tell. The voice over the speakers returned, calm and mechanical. “The following contestants have earned the right of caregiver for completing the trial first.” A series of numbers rolled across the screen, one after another. Ivy counted twenty in total. Her number wasn’t among them. As the announcement ended, a series of soft clicks echoed through the room. Ivy turned her head and watched those named “caregivers” fumble with their sleepers, now freed from their locked zippers. One by one, they unzipped and shed the restrictive garments. Ivy’s tired eyes widened as the sleepers fell, revealing the thick, babyish diapers each caregiver wore beneath. The designs were unmistakably infantile: bright pastel colors, cartoon animals, and whimsical patterns that only deepened their humiliation. Some featured images of frolicking bunnies, while others featured trains or playful teddy bears. The caregivers looked relieved to be free of the tight fabric, but their expressions were a mix of pride and unease as they stood in their diapers, the soiled bulk visible for all to see. Ivy felt a pang of envy and shame. Though the caregivers were still trapped in this twisted game, their freedom from the sleeper symbolized a small but significant victory. She clutched the front of her sleeper, the thick, swollen diaper pressing against her skin as she tried to push away the sense of helplessness creeping over her. Mistress's familiar, authoritative voice shattered the room's eerie calm, her tone dripping with amusement. “Congratulations, contestants,” Mistress began, her voice echoing from the speakers. “The first trial is complete, and the roles are now set. The twenty of you who earned the title of caregiver—you alone are responsible for the well-being of the remaining contestants, now known as babies.” Ivy’s heart sank as she glanced at the others, whose tear-streaked faces reflected her growing dread. “Caregivers,” Mistress continued, her tone almost teasing. "Your responsibilities are straightforward: You will feed, change, and put your assigned babies to bed each night. As winners of the first trial, you’ve earned special privileges—you may change into pull-ups and use the provided potties.” A wave of murmurs swept through the room. Some caregivers exchanged uncertain glances, relief tempered by the task's weight. “But remember,” Mistress’s voice took on a colder edge, “the fate of your babies lies entirely in your hands. You will decide whether they are kept clean or left in their current state. You control whether they are comfortable or miserable. But heed this warning—every baby must be in their crib by bedtime. Failure to comply will result in your elimination.” The screen above flickered as her words sank in, revealing the caregiver assignments. Each caregiver’s number appeared alongside the numbers of their two assigned babies, leaving no room for ambiguity. Ivy’s stomach churned as she spotted her number beneath one of the caregivers, and dread pooled in her chest. Around her, tension thickened as contestants glanced at one another. Their fates were now bound to strangers who held their comfort—and survival—in their hands. The weight of her words settled heavily over the room. “Oh, and one last thing, caregivers,” Mistress added with a sinister edge. “Your current position of privilege is far from guaranteed. By the next trial, the roles may shift, and you would do well to treat those in your care wisely,” she warned. Mistress laughed, the sound cold and hollow, sending chills down Ivy’s spine. “You’ve done well, contestants,” she said, her tone shifting back to that unsettling cheerfulness. “But this is only the beginning. Each trial will be harder and more demanding than the last. Welcome, one and all, to the Nursery Trials.”

Considering ending this here. I like to not get too dark with it, and seems like putting him in front of people/friends/family or in public is most of what could happen, and probably hard to up the ante much. I might write another chapter to put a bow on it if people are interested.

The Crimson Crown A story by SolaraScott Chapter 35: Fragile Masquerade Clara and I worked quickly, the spilled water pooling and spreading across the floor as we scrubbed furiously to clean it up before it seeped further into the cracks. My arms ached from the frantic motion, but the sting of exertion was nothing compared to the burning anger churning inside me. Every swipe of the sponge felt like an outlet, yet it did nothing to extinguish the fire that threatened to consume me. The faint sound of boots echoed from the throne room again, and I glanced up just in time to see the intruder king and his entourage stepping through the archway. He moved with a languid grace, his golden-yellow robes swishing softly as he walked, his head held high with an air of mocking arrogance. His attendants followed close behind, their sharp black uniforms a stark contrast to the brightness of his attire. He paused briefly as he passed us, his cold, calculating gaze sweeping over the scene. I kept my head down, my hands trembling as I scrubbed harder, but his presence was suffocating, like a storm cloud looming overhead. The room felt colder, his disdain for everything around him palpable. “How fitting,” he said, his voice smooth but dripping with disdain. “The great kingdom of reds and silvers, reduced to this.” His eyes lingered on us for a moment, his lip curling into a sneer. “Its princess vanished, its people broken, and its servants... well, at least you two seem to have found your proper place.” My breath caught in my throat, the anger bubbling higher, hotter, at his words. My hand faltered on the sponge, my fingers gripping it tightly as I forced myself to keep scrubbing. Proper place? The sheer audacity of his comment made my blood boil, but I couldn’t let it show. Not here. Not now. Clara didn’t look up either, her movements steady and deliberate as she worked beside me, her face carefully neutral. If she was seething like I was, she hid it well, but I could see the faint tension in her jaw, the way her fingers gripped her sponge just a little too tightly. The man sniffed dismissively, as though we were nothing more than dirt under his heel, before turning on his heel and continuing down the corridor. His attendants followed wordlessly, their faces blank masks of compliance, leaving behind only the fading echo of their footsteps. The moment they were gone, my sponge slipped from my hand, falling into the soapy puddle with a faint splash. I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms as I stared down at the floor, my chest heaving with barely restrained fury. The anger roared in my ears, a deafening tide of humiliation and hatred that threatened to spill over. Clara glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her expression wary but calm. “Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice low but firm. “Don’t let him see it. That’s what he wants.” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to take a deep, shuddering breath. The fire in my chest didn’t dim, but I pushed it down, burying it beneath the weight of my fear and the memory of the crack in the stone. Clara was right—if I let my emotions get the better of me, I’d only make things worse. Still, the words echoed in my mind, sharp and cutting: Your proper place. The intruder’s mocking tone, his disdain for everything my kingdom had stood for, would haunt me long after this moment. But I won’t forget it. I wouldn’t let it go. One day, I would make him regret ever stepping foot in my castle. For now, I scrubbed harder, channeling every ounce of my anger into the task at hand, the faint glow of resolve flickering brighter within me. With the guards gone and the threat momentarily averted, Clara worked in silence, but her presence beside me felt heavy, weighted with unspoken questions. I could feel her eyes on me, even when she wasn’t looking directly. Her movements were mechanical, her sponge gliding over the stone floor with practiced efficiency, but I knew her mind was elsewhere—on me, on the crack in the stone, on everything I hadn’t explained. I didn’t dare meet her gaze. The tension between us hung thick in the air, made sharper by the sharp crack of the fissure behind us, barely hidden now by the drying water. Clara didn’t press, not here, not now, but I could feel her unanswered questions burning through the quiet. Who are you? What did you do? Her words from earlier echoed in my mind, and I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to focus on the repetitive motion of scrubbing the floor. I didn’t have answers for her—none that I could give, none that wouldn’t put us both in even greater danger. For now, the safest thing I could do was keep my head down and stay quiet. But my anger refused to dissipate, simmering just beneath the surface with a heat that felt all-consuming. Every swipe of the sponge did nothing to ease the boiling rage in my chest, the echo of the intruder’s mocking words ringing in my ears. “Proper place.” I clenched my teeth, my arms straining as I scrubbed harder, as though I could somehow erase his presence from my mind if I only worked hard enough. I was so lost in my fury that I didn’t notice the faint, growing pressure in my stomach until it was nearly too late. My muscles tensed, and my breath hitched as the realization hit me. My heart sank, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me as the anger twisted into something sharper, more immediate. I tried to focus, to will the sensation away, but my body betrayed me, and I froze, my sponge slipping from my hand. I glanced at Clara out of the corner of my eye, but she didn’t seem to notice, her focus still on the floor as she worked. My cheeks burned, the heat of embarrassment mixing with the simmering anger, and I clenched my fists tightly, trying to keep my body in check. But the pressure was relentless, my exhaustion and fury leaving me with little control, and the shame of what was about to happen was nearly unbearable. Not here. Not now. My mind raced, panic bubbling beneath the surface, but there was nothing I could do. The fire of my anger couldn’t save me this time, and as I sat back on my heels, the reality of my situation hit me with a crushing weight. The anger, the humiliation, the helplessness—it all swirled together in a storm of emotions that left me trembling, my hands gripping my knees as I tried to steady myself. I didn’t know if Clara would notice or if she already had, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. All I could do was sit there, my body stiff with shame, and pray that this moment would pass without her saying a word. The pressure was unbearable now, an unrelenting force that left me trembling as I knelt on the hard stone floor. My body ached from the strain of holding on, my muscles quivering with the effort, but I could feel my control slipping—like sand through my fingers, no matter how hard I tried to hold it back. My breath hitched, and my cheeks burned hotter with every passing second, the mounting shame nearly suffocating. And then, it happened. Before I could stop it, before I could even prepare myself, my body gave in. A faint, involuntary grunt escaped my lips, and I froze, my face blazing as the humiliating reality set in. The soft, warm swelling beneath me was undeniable, spreading as my body pushed against my will, the diaper straining to accommodate the mess. I couldn’t stop it. The anger, the shame, the helplessness—they all crashed over me at once, leaving me trembling as I knelt there, unable to move, unable even to breathe. My hands gripped the sponge in front of me, trembling as my cheeks burned so brightly I was sure they must have been glowing. The faint rustle beneath my dress was almost deafening in the stillness of the corridor, and I clenched my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear. A soft gasp broke the quiet, and my heart sank as I glanced up, meeting Clara’s wide, startled eyes. Her face was a mixture of shock and realization, her pale blue eyes darting from my face to the faintly bulging outline beneath my dress. She blinked, her lips parting as though to say something, but no words came. For a moment, neither of us moved, the silence between us stretching unbearably. Her expression shifted, softening into something almost like pity, and I wanted to scream, to run, to hide from her gaze. “Lila...” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t answer her. My throat was tight, my chest heaving with humiliation as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I looked away, staring at the stone floor as though it could swallow me whole. The anger that had burned so hotly within me moments ago was gone, snuffed out by the crushing weight of my shame. Clara didn’t move closer, didn’t press. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she looked away, her hands returning to the bucket and sponge as she resumed scrubbing the floor. She didn’t say another word, but the tension in the air was heavy, her presence beside me both a comfort and a reminder of my humiliation. I stayed frozen for what felt like an eternity, my body stiff and my heart racing as I fought to keep the tears from falling. The shame was overwhelming and suffocating, and for the first time, I felt truly, utterly powerless. Clara’s voice was low and steady, but her words hit me like a blow. “We can’t go back until lunch,” she said quietly, her gaze flicking toward me, her expression unreadable. “You’ll have to wait.” Wait? My heart sank further, the weight of her words crushing me as I sat frozen on my knees. The swollen, messy diaper beneath me was unbearable—hot and stifling one moment, growing cool and damp the next with every subtle movement. Each shift of my body pressed the shame deeper, the sticky, humiliating reality of my situation impossible to ignore. I couldn’t meet her eyes. I couldn’t even muster the strength to respond. The lump in my throat grew tighter, the tears I’d fought so hard to hold back threatening to spill over. My hands trembled as I reached for the sponge, gripping it tightly in an attempt to ground myself, but the effort was futile. The shame was too great, too suffocating, and it crushed me beneath its weight. I scrubbed the floor mechanically, the rough stone beneath me blurred by my watery vision. The faint smell of soap and damp stone mixed with the stale scent of my disgrace and the sound of my sponge scraping against the floor barely registered in my ears. My silent tears fell freely now, dripping into the soapy water and mixing with the grime I worked to clean. Clara said nothing, her presence beside me a silent weight. She scrubbed steadily, her movements methodical, but I could feel her eyes flicking toward me every so often, her gaze heavy with something I couldn’t place—pity, perhaps, or maybe frustration. She didn’t speak, didn’t try to console me, but her silence was almost worse. It left me alone with my thoughts, my shame, my tears. Each shift of my body was a fresh reminder of the mess I carried, the squishing sound beneath me a cruel accompaniment to the rhythm of my scrubbing. The cool dampness of the diaper clung to my skin, each movement pressing it closer, making me hyper-aware of just how far I had fallen. My tears blurred my vision, but I kept scrubbing, my arms moving mechanically as though the act could somehow erase the humiliation that consumed me. The soapy water rippled beneath me, catching the faint light from the corridor’s lanterns, and for a moment, I felt like I might drown in it—drown in my shame, my helplessness, my silent, unspoken pain. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to do something, but I couldn’t. All I could do was scrub, the rhythm of my movements broken only by the soft, shaky sobs that escaped my throat despite my best efforts to hold them back. The castle floor was cleaner now, gleaming faintly in the dim light, but no amount of scrubbing could clean away the mess inside me. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Clara sat back on her heels and let out a soft sigh. “That’s it,” she said, her voice laced with exhaustion. “We’re done here. Time for lunch.” Her words brought a wave of relief, but it was fleeting. The weight of the mess in my diaper was a constant, humiliating reminder of my situation. Each step I’d taken that morning had pressed the shame deeper, the cool, sticky bulk clinging to my skin and making every motion unbearable. When my bladder grew full, I didn’t even bother trying to hold it; what was the point? My body ached from hours of scrubbing, but it was nothing compared to the mental toll of carrying this secret so close to discovery. Clara stood, her movements stiff but efficient as she gathered her bucket and sponge. “Come on, Lila,” she said, nodding toward the hallway. “Let’s get this back to the closet.” I rose slowly, my legs trembling from the strain of kneeling for so long. The diaper squished beneath me as I stood, and I bit my lip hard, willing myself not to cry again. I followed Clara silently, my arms full of cleaning supplies as we made our way down the dim corridors, the sound of our footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls. When we reached the cleaning closet, Clara deposited her tools with practiced ease, her hands moving quickly as she rinsed out her sponge and set it aside. I followed her lead, the cold water stinging my raw hands as I cleaned the sponge before placing it back in its spot. The relief of washing away the grime of the morning was fleeting, overshadowed by the discomfort that clung to me with every step. Clara glanced at me briefly, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp as she motioned toward the corridor. “Let’s go,” she said simply, turning on her heel and leading the way to the dining hall. The walk was quiet, save for the faint murmurs of other servants heading in the same direction. My gaze was fixed on the ground, my steps careful and measured as I followed Clara. But as we approached the dining hall, my heart sank. To get there, we had to pass the main room the headmistress used—a space that was as imposing as the woman herself. The heavy door to the room was open, and the headmistress stood just inside, her arms crossed and her sharp eyes scanning the hallway. She was waiting, her severe presence making the air feel colder and heavier. Her gaze locked onto us as we approached, and my stomach twisted into knots. Clara’s pace slowed, her posture stiffening as she nodded respectfully. “Ma’am,” she said, her voice steady but cautious. The headmistress’s lips thinned as she stepped forward, her dark eyes sweeping over both of us. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I froze, my heart pounding as the weight of her scrutiny bore down on me. My mind raced, panic bubbling beneath the surface as I prayed she wouldn’t notice—wouldn’t smell—wouldn’t suspect. “Lunchtime,” she said curtly, her tone sharp as a blade. “Don’t dawdle. You’ll have twice the work this afternoon if you fall behind.” “Yes, ma’am,” Clara replied quickly, bowing her head slightly before nudging me to keep moving. The headmistress’s eyes followed us as we passed, her presence looming like a storm cloud. I kept my gaze firmly on the ground, my cheeks burning with shame as the squish beneath my dress felt louder, more obvious, with every step. As we passed the doorway, the headmistress’s sharp voice cut through the quiet hallway like a blade. “Stop.” Clara and I froze mid-step, the weight of her command heavy and unyielding. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned just enough to see her stepping out of the room, her dark eyes narrowing as she approached. Her nose wrinkled slightly, her gaze flicking between us with that sharp, calculating intensity I had come to dread. “Something is amiss,” she said, her voice low but firm, a dangerous edge lacing her words. Her eyes lingered on Clara first, her expression unreadable, before shifting to me. My heart pounded in my chest as her gaze bore into me, heavy and unrelenting. “Step forward,” she commanded, gesturing to me with a flick of her wrist. Clara cast me a brief, uncertain glance, but I couldn’t meet her eyes. My legs felt like lead as I stepped forward, my knees trembling slightly beneath my dress. The headmistress circled me slowly, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of my uniform, her movements methodical and deliberate. “There’s something... off,” she muttered, more to herself than to us. Her fingers reached out, brushing against the fabric of my sleeve, adjusting the hem of my dress. “Hair, nails, dress...” She trailed off, her nose wrinkling again as her frown deepened. The heat of humiliation burned in my cheeks as I stood there, every nerve in my body screaming to run, to hide. The soggy, messy diaper beneath my dress felt impossibly obvious, the bulk pressing against me with every subtle movement. My breaths were shallow, my heart hammering so loudly in my chest that I was sure she could hear it. Her hand paused at the waistband of my dress, her fingers lingering just below the seam. I froze, panic rising like a tidal wave as her brow furrowed, her sharp gaze snapping to mine. “Something doesn’t smell right,” she said coldly, her tone sharper now. “Explain.” “I—I...” The words caught in my throat, and my vision blurred with the sting of tears. My mouth opened, but no sound came out, my mind racing for an excuse, an explanation, anything to deflect her suspicion. Clara, to her credit, stepped forward quickly, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “It must be the water, ma’am,” she said, bowing her head respectfully. “We had a spill earlier, and the floor wasn’t as clean as it should have been. It’s likely the smell is lingering.” The headmistress’s eyes flicked to Clara, her frown deepening. “A spill?” “Yes, ma’am,” Clara continued, her voice calm but deferential. “We scrubbed it as best we could, but the soapy water spread further than we expected.” For a long, agonizing moment, the headmistress said nothing, her piercing gaze moving back to me. My knees felt weak, my entire body trembling as I fought to keep still under her scrutiny. Finally, she let out a sharp, irritated breath, stepping back. “Fix it,” she snapped, her voice clipped. “I will not tolerate any lapses in cleanliness. And ensure it doesn’t happen again.” “Yes, ma’am,” Clara said quickly, bowing her head again. I followed suit, the motion shaky and awkward, but the headmistress had already turned away, her sharp heels clicking against the stone as she disappeared back into her office. The moment she was gone, my knees nearly buckled with relief. Clara grabbed my arm, steadying me as she whispered fiercely, “Keep it together, Lila. You’re not out of this yet.” I nodded faintly, swallowing hard as I fought to steady my breathing. The weight of the diaper beneath my dress felt heavier than ever, but for now, we had escaped for now. But I couldn’t help but feel the headmistress’s gaze lingering, a shadow that would haunt me until I found a way out of this nightmare. End of Chapter 35 I guess you'll both have to read on and find out!

Mom drove me to school, and I walked into the building and headed to the homeroom. Mom then went to take the changing supplies to the nurse. I heard snickering and a comment, “Hey, pajama day was last month.” I bumped into Allie. “Why are you dressed like that?” “My mother’s idea. She found the PJs you bought me and said if I wanted to wear pajamas to school, I should wear these.” “And you wanted to wear this?” she said. “No, she just had me put them back on after I woke up.” “Back on?” I sighed and explained that these were my regular pajamas. “So that’s why you didn’t want to wear your own during spirit week.” “Precisely.” “Well, I think you look cute,” she said, patting my rear. She smiled and asked, “Are you wearing underpants under your PJs again?” “Well, not exactly.” She gave me a longer grope. “Is that…” she said trailing off. “Yeah, it’s a diaper. Mom originally made me wear this to bed because I was bedwetting.” “And now?” “I have to keep wearing the diaper because I can’t get this thing off to get to the toilet.” I demonstrated my trying to reach the zipper.” “Do you want me to help you?” she offered. “Perhaps at some point,” I said. School progressed, and things weren’t too bad. Yes, there were giggles from some of the boys and a few “your mother dresses you funny,” comments from the guys, but he endured. Of course, after lunch, he knew he’d have to wet the diaper, but he’d done that enough. He looked around to see if anybody was noticing, but no. In fact, nobody but Allie should know that he was wearing a diaper under the sleeper. He finally shuffled toward the school bus at the end of the day. Allie sat down beside him. “How’d it go?” she asked. “I’m surviving. I didn’t end up wet until sixth period.” “Oh, poor baby,” she said. When it got to her stop, she stayed on board. “Let me walk you home,” she said. “It’s not too far to backtrack to my house on foot.” They got off the bus at his stop. She grabbed his hand and walked with him. He felt a thousand times better holding her hand and walking with you. When they got to his house, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was electric. “See you tomorrow.” He went inside, still thinking about Allie. Those pajamas. He wondered if Mom had returned him to the dresser. He pulled open the bottom drawer where he had stashed them. What he found surprised him. There were more sleepers. Different colors than the one he had been wearing. He flipped them up, and sure enough, the blue satin ones were underneath. He held them up to his face and smiled and then put them back. He wasn’t too concerned. Mom did periodically buy a new sleeper for him. It must be getting time to replace the one he had. He then looked in the middle drawer, more sleepers. He pulled out the top drawer where his socks and underwear were stored. It was full of diapers. No socks, no underwear. He sat down on the floor and thought about this. He got up and looked in his closet. There were no clothes in there either. All he had was diapers and sleepers. His mother came into the room. “Ready for a change?” she asked cheerfully. She then looked at the dresser. “I see you’ve been in the diaper drawer. I could get that for you.” “Isn’t that my socks and underwear drawer,” I stammered. “The diapers are your underwear. As for socks, you don’t need those with the footies.” It was finally hitting home. I was now going to be full-time in the sleepers and diapers.

Emily is slowly getting used to the new status quo, whether she wants to or not. However, left alone one day, she is given a dilemma with no easy answer. --- Every update I post is available on my Ream and SubscribeStar pages one week before it is posted everywhere else. For $5 you can see everything I post before the rest of the diapered world. For $10 you can see every update early plus EVERY exclusive story I have written. That's 35 stories available ONLY on my subscription pages and nowhere else! I rely on my wonderful subscriber's support to be able to write like I do. Writing is my only income and the money I earn goes to help paying the bills, food and everything else my wife and I need. Everyone's support is HUGELY appreciated, without it I would have to find other work and I wouldn't be able to write nearly as much as I do, maybe at all. So thank you to everyone who checks out my subscriber pages and considers supporting me ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- Just like the pull-ups before them the diapers were becoming normalised. Whether Emily wanted them to or not they had started to feel like part of her everyday wardrobe. She had never made much of an effort to go to Amelia to ask her to help her take the diaper off to get to the toilet on time, there simply never was going to be enough warning to manage all that. Emily was resigned to the fact that she was going to wet herself when she felt the need. It wasn’t often that Emily would even go and ask for a diaper change. If Amelia wasn’t working, she would periodically check her diaper by flipping up her skirt or sticking a hand down her pants. Emily always complained but when Amelia was finding Emily wet more than dry her options for argument were limited. In some ways it was easier when she was checked and found wet, it saved her having to bring up the problem herself. After only a few days the diapers were something, Emily almost ignored in some ways. She could never shake off the humiliation of needing them or the feeling of them growing wetter and heavier but they started to get filed, in her mind, under the folder titled “Not my problem.” Amelia had told Emily she wasn’t to touch her diaper. Amelia did the checking and the changing so why should Emily pay attention to them. Sure, her wife encouraged her to ask for the toilet, or “potty” as she now seemed to constantly call it, but that was almost more embarrassing than just wetting herself. Pissing in her pants had become something Emily was used to, for better or worse. It would never not be humiliating, Emily was sure of that, but it was no longer world ending when Amelia changed her diaper. Perhaps it was because, despite everything, her plan was actually working. By visiting the toilet between diapers, she was still able to keep the diapers clean. That felt like a massive win though when she brought it up to Amelia, she didn’t get the response she had expected. “What? You want a medal for not shitting your pants?” Amelia had replied snappily after Emily mentioned it. “No, I…” Emily started. Her face was heating up with familiar embarrassment. She didn’t understand why Amelia seemed annoyed that Emily was fighting hard to keep control of one aspect of her life Emily wasn’t able to continue from there because Amelia had closed the gap to her and unceremoniously shoved her hand up under Emily’s skirt. The padding was warm, round and very clearly wet. Amelia sighed and shook her head. “I need to head out to the DMV and renew my license.” Amelia said, “Can I trust you here alone for a few hours?” “Well, yeah, but…” Emily bit her lip. “What?” Amelia asked. “Aren’t you going to… change me first?” Emily asked with a small voice. “I’ll do it when I get back.” Amelia said after a long sigh, “You should be alright for a little while.” Emily was ashamed to say she wasn’t so sure about that. It said a lot that even when Amelia wasn’t around Emily was still not allowed to touch her own diapers. It felt like a stupid rule that only existed because of one small mistake but Emily felt compelled to follow it. With all the strain she was putting on the relationship recently she didn’t want to push any further. “Call me if you need anything.” Amelia said as she scooped up her keys. A minute later the front door closed and Emily was left alone. It was the first time she had truly been by herself for a little while. With Amelia working from home increasingly often she was usually always very nearby. Emily felt a little anxious at the sudden separation and almost simultaneously felt a dribble of urine enter her soaked padding. “Don’t be silly…” Emily muttered to herself, “You’ve been alone plenty of times before. You LIKE being alone.” Emily did what she often spent her time doing. She grabbed some snacks and a drink and went to sit in front of the television. The soft crinkles that accompanied her every movement had almost become background noise for her now, like a form of tinnitus that you learn to live with, she barely even noticed them most of the time. Sitting on the couch Emily put her feet up on the table and turned on the television. She could almost pretend everything was back to normal like this. It was so close to how she usually found herself before her bladder and bowels had started rebelling. She was even able to enjoy herself for a little while. That was until she felt the need to poop coming on quickly. Emily got up and hurried up to the bathroom where she paused. She wasn’t supposed to touch her own diaper but if she didn’t, she would be condemning herself to a horrible accident, and Amelia wasn’t even there to help her. She bit her lip until she uncontrollably passed wind and decided that Amelia would understand. Heck, she may even be able to put it back on and Amelia would never know what happened. Ripping at the tapes Emily let the damp diaper hit the floor just before she sat down. It wasn’t a moment too soon. She felt relief wash over her as her body evacuated. It was only as she finished and she was cleaning up that she looked down at the diaper. “Oh crap…” Emily muttered. In her haste to take the diaper off one of the tapes had been ripped off the back half of the diaper. That wasn’t even mentioning the embarrassing skid mark she had left behind in the padding. The diaper certainly wouldn’t be able to be worn again. After flushing the toilet Emily picked up the torn padding and carried it through to her bedroom. She dropped it on the floor and kicked it to the corner as she thought about what to do. It didn’t seem like she had many options. If Amelia found her without a diaper on she would be very angry which meant Emily had no choice but to take a fresh disposable from the drawer and take it to her bed. Emily’s previous attempt at diapering herself had not been a success but since then she had seen Amelia do it a lot more. She held her tongue between her teeth as she tried to get the diaper as straight as possible before pulling it up between her legs. She spent a lot of time trying to make sure she put the tapes in exactly the right position before she committed and pressed them against the front of the disposable. When she sat up and looked down, she thought she had done a very good job, it certainly fit a lot better than her last effort. Feeling pleased about a job well done Emily got herself dressed again and headed back downstairs. When, a little while later, she felt the need to urinate she didn’t hold back. Sitting on the couch with her feet up she let go into the padding. It was another hour or so before Amelia came back through the front door. In that time Emily had barely moved from her spot on the couch as she watched a trashy day time talk show. If it wasn’t for the warm padding around her, yet again, it would’ve felt like so many other days before the problems started. Emily sitting and enjoying her life as Amelia came home from doing whatever it was she did. “I’m back.” Amelia called through the door. Emily grunted a greeting but didn’t look behind her at the front door. She stretched and felt her padded underwear rub against her, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant as much as she hated to admit it. Amelia came round the couch to block the view of the TV. “Alright, stand up.” Amelia said. “Huh? Why?” Emily asked as she leaned to look around her wife. “Because I need to check you.” Amelia replied, “If you would just wear more skirts, you’d make this a lot easier for both of us.” Emily sighed and obediently stood up. Her pants were pulled down to her knees and she almost subconsciously spread her legs a bit to make it easier for Amelia to check her. She didn’t even realise she had picked up these toddler behaviours. “Have you been drinking enough?” Amelia asked with confusion. “Uh huh.” Emily replied. She was trying not to let it show that having her wife’s hand prodding, poking and squeezing her crotch was actually turning her on just a little bit. “You’re not as wet as I expected.” Amelia sounded suspicious. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Emily said, “What time is dinner?” Amelia stood up straight and Emily pulled her pants back up. At least it seemed like her wife hadn’t noticed the way the front of her diaper was tenting out a little. Part of her was glad it wasn’t noticed whilst the rest of her would’ve appreciated some attention. There hadn’t been a lot of sex since the diapers were introduced. “In a little while.” Amelia said slowly, “I’m going to take a shower first.” Emily nodded and sat back down. She hadn’t really looked at her wife all that much, if she had she might have been more concerned than she was. Amelia left the room and Emily picked up the remote to go channel surfing. She had just flicked over to a reality show about people with strange lifestyles when she was startled into a sitting up. “Emily!” Amelia shouted, “Get up here now!” Emily swallowed nervously. There was a time when she would ignore any such instruction but with everything that had been going on she felt like she had to do as she was told. Amelia sounded angry about something so Emily was fairly certain she wasn’t having a medical emergency or anything like that. She slowly walked up the stairs trying to work out what the problem was. At the top of the steps, she looked cautiously into the bathroom but Amelia wasn’t in there. It was only when Emily saw that the door to her bedroom was open that it dawned on her what was happening. Her eyes shot wide open as she realised she had forgotten about the diaper she had taken off. Her immediate thought was to run away. Amelia was angry and perhaps the best course of action would be to get as far away as possible until she had calmed down. Before Emily had made a step one way or the other Amelia stuck her head round the door and stared daggers into her. “Come here and explain this.” Amelia demanded. Emily really didn’t want to be doing as she was told. She wanted to run back downstairs and hide. She knew exactly what she had done, she knew exactly what embarrassing sight awaited her in the spare bedroom. When Amelia’s glare somehow got even sterner Emily’s feet moved forwards and she went into her bedroom. In the corner, right where she had left it, was the used diaper. The padding was obviously yellowed apart from the brown streak that was embarrassingly prominent. “What’s this?” Amelia asked as she pointed at the discarded diaper. “Come on…” Emily whined as her cheeks reddened. “What is it?” Amelia asked again. “You know what it is.” Emily replied petulantly. She felt about two feet tall at that moment. “Tell me.” Amelia demanded, “And don’t make me ask again.” Emily had been feeling like a child a lot recently, it was hard not to when you were wetting yourself so often, but right then she felt more like a naughty toddler than ever. A small child who had been overconfident in hiding evidence of their being naughty and now it was coming back to bite them. “It’s my diaper.” Emily said as she rolled her eyes, “Obviously!” “Well done! It IS your diaper!” Amelia said with sarcastic praise, “So my question is… What is it doing on the floor?” “When you were out, I needed the bathroom.” Emily said with a shrug, “What did you want me to do?” “You mean other than stain you diaper like that and leave it lying around on the floor for me to nearly step on?” Amelia asked with a shake of her head, “What was my rule for you regarding your diapers?” “Amelia, come on…” Emily was already so full of embarrassment she felt like she might burst. “What is it?” Amelia asked. “Look, I used the toilet without a problem!” Emily responded. She didn’t even notice her foot stomping on the floor like an upset child, “And I put this diaper on without a problem too!” “That’s not what I’m asking you.” Amelia said calmly, “I asked you about the rule and you have to the count of three to tell me. One.” “Amelia, I’m not a stupid kid.” Emily retorted angrily, “I ca-…” “Two.” Amelia counted. Emily let out a frustrated exclamation. This was all so humiliating. Did Amelia know that she was making her feel so embarrassed? Surely Emily’s cheeks were blazing red for her to notice. This was ridiculously unfair. The rule had been made because Emily had leaked and her current diaper showed no signs of doing that! “Three.” Amelia finished. “This is-…” Emily started when Amelia grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the bed, “Hey! W-What are you doing!?” “Something you probably needed years ago.” Amelia said through gritted teeth as she started pulling on Emily’s arm. --- If you enjoyed this and would like to see the next part of the story RIGHT NOW you can do so on my SubscribeStar and Ream pages: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/m1cuafz5dm/chapter/ae03a5ed-34a7-40a5-9607-ff3f505f26ac https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1666432

Chapter 45: Falling Chad. Chad had sent Emma to Derek’s office to be watched during his meeting before the end of day. He didn’t change her, deciding it’d be good if they had some separation for a few hours and maybe it’d be a small additional punishment for what had just happened. It was unacceptable how she behaved and he didn’t know how to reprimand her because he was so taken off guard by her response to his touch. Chad went through a Zoom call with a client, slightly out of it and not focused like he usually found himself. As his fellow Zoom attendees talked over a project that didn’t involve him, his mind drifted. He couldn’t believe it, no, wouldn’t believe it. Chad knew she was aroused from spankings but the diapers? He didn’t see that coming, nor his touch causing that. He’d never done that with a little who knew they liked diapers. The diaper pats and squishing weren’t usually enough for an orgasm. A vibrator could do the trick, but what he did… he wasn’t trying to make her cum. He was trying to regress her, make her feel little. He’d never done that to anyone he diapered nor so easily either. Let alone a girl who didn’t know she even liked diapers or being treated like a baby. Chad didn’t cross the sexual line, ever. It was a rare, and even rarer occasion with a little. He’d never had a dominant and little relationship that was sexual either, no matter how much past littles would beg. He liked to keep it nonsexual and would consider doing those things if he was going to marry someone. Sex meant too many emotions he wouldn’t allow himself to have with someone and he wouldn’t let someone see him in that way until he was ready. Chad knew he could be animalistic and feral when it came to the bedroom and he wouldn’t let anyone see him like that unless he knew they’d be his forever. There were no exceptions to his rule, well, until today. Chad ruminated about it for longer after his meeting was over, still wondering how to handle it. He should be firm and have a talk with her, he knew it. She was being bad and he felt like he couldn’t contain himself for a moment as he watched her. He usually could control himself, yet this… this threw him completely off and he had no idea how to handle it. Her face flushing in embarrassment. Her small gasp and breathing hitching. Her green eyes fluttering. Chad was so damn turned on and he couldn’t stop his primal reaction. Women were lucky they didn’t get hard. It was unfortunate because he didn’t want to show anything. He didn't want to show that it excited him nor that he was even a sliver of that he was feeling just as aroused as her. He told himself he wouldn’t show his emotions, like he did in his prior little and daddy situationships. Yes, you read that right. Situationships. He didn’t date littles because, well, if the relationship broke off, he wouldn’t be able to handle his issues without needing medication or help again. Anxiety stabbed like a knife when Chad felt out of control. It was too much for him once upon a time and he went to an outpatient program for it. He saw a therapist for some time over that and his anger issues associated. He wasn’t abusive, yet he knew he had a temper that he never fully could fix. Come to find out, the whole little girl and daddy dom dynamic fit perfectly for him since he could transfer that anger into his dominance over his littles and it was sought after by littles. Although, none of them understood that his anger and control was a side effect of his anxiety. He was scared of a lot of things, like losing people, being unable to contact them or not being able to help when they needed him, and he needed reassurance in the form of control. He’d be lying to say that it didn’t excite him in the moments of power and control, but it was a double-edged sword. The excitement made it fun, yet there was always a layer of anxiety and fearing the unknown. That’s where the control came in and there was little to be unknown. That’s why he accessed Emma’s information so quickly, knowing she couldn’t disappear if he had her location and access to everything. It took away his anxiety of the attachment he already had to her and the fear of her leaving if he pushed her too far. After today though, he didn’t know if she would leave. He knew she enjoyed spankings and could tell she liked his dominance… yet the diaper touching was a new one he didn’t expect. He thought she’d hate it or get tired of it and that’d be the tipping point. He thought maybe she’d be disgusted, and the exact opposite happened. Emma surprised him, more than he’d like to admit, and he had began falling. This whole situation was terrifying him and, for the first time in a long while, he had caught feelings for someone. Those feelings were manifesting physically for him and he didn't know how to even stop it at this point. Chad took in a slow breath, calming himself as he began getting worked up at the thought of her body shuddering on him and the feelings he just couldn’t ignore anymore. He had work to do and things to think about how to reprimand her behavior to not do that again. Part of him knew that she couldn’t help it, but the other part wanted to give her another punishment. He wouldn’t push her too far considering what she just did on him, but it was tempting. He had to figure her out and what punishments she wouldn’t get excited by. Part of him wondered if that existed for Emma, yet he was determined to find out. Safe to say, Chad his work cut out for him.

Another classroom, similar to the one before - the same decoration and furniture - but a different layout. It was hard to remember exactly, but it seemed like I was a little bit older when I was originally in this one. The teacher looked so young. In my memory she had always been old, but she actually seemed to be in her late 20s. Although I suppose when you’re seven or eight, I guess someone in their late 20s is ‘old’. By contrast, the other ‘kids’ in the room didn’t seem so kid-like. In spite of the uniforms they looked the same age as me. The ones I’d kept in touch with until now actually looked exactly as I did when I saw them at Christmas. That made me nervous. Children were easy to ignore, I’d had a lot of experience of not paying attention to comments made by little brats when they noticed I’d had an accident. It was much harder to ignore someone my age. Particularly someone I knew. The teacher told us to get changed for PE. Everyone ran out of their room to get their PE kits, and I suddenly had a moment of panic. I reached down to my butt to check, and sure enough, I was wearing a nappy. If I changed in front of everyone, they would see it. The teacher caught my eye and beckoned me over. I assumed I was in trouble for not starting to get ready, and slowly crept over to her, walking like the condemned. “I almost forgot. Would you like to go get changed in the disabled toilet?” I was saved. I nodded in agreement, then scurried to the cloak room adjacent to grab my clothes and change. My delay in getting my things was a stroke of good fortune, as I would have no idea which PE bag was mine had it not been the only one hanging up. It only took me a couple of minutes to change, but in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, my nappy was pretty obvious. I stood in the toilet wondering what to do until I heard a knock on the door, and a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “Are you OK in there?” “Uh… yeah.” I replied. “Can you open the door so I can talk to you?” I hesitated for a moment, then unlocked the door and opened it. On the other side was the classroom assistant, a woman who had always been kind to me, and was always friendly. She smiled at me then leaned in close, “Have you had an accident? Is that why you’re waiting in here?” I shook my head, and whispered a quiet “no.” “Do I need to check to make sure?” “Er… you can.” I replied, a little more confident, “but I’m hiding in here because my nappy is really obvious through my shorts.” “More than normal? Are you sure you don’t need a change?” “I think so.” I tugged my shorts down so she could check. She motioned for me to turn around and I did. “OK, you’re good for now. So no need to worry.” “But everyone will know I’m wearing it.” She smiled again, “And they know that they’ll be in trouble if they bully you for it. Remember, we made sure of that after the last time?” I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but I nodded in agreement anyway. “Come on then” she ushered me out of the cubicle, then down the hallway and into the school hall where the sports equipment was already set out. I was relieved that no one said anything. Although one of the other ‘kids’ asked me if I was OK. After a few minutes we were set into groups and began exercising. I was in the group that was using the wall bars, which were basically just a climbing frame, but somehow also considered sports equipment by schools. It was by far my favourite gym activity when I was this age for real, so I took full advantage of having access to it now. In spite of everything else seeming to be the same as I remember them, there was no way they were this huge when I was a child. There was easily enough room for six of us to climb and swing around on them without getting in each other’s way. After a few minutes of playing I felt the familiar tingle in my bladder and my nappy get warm. I was wetting myself again, and entirely unaware it was going to happen or to stop it. That made me worry. If I didn’t know that I was going to wet myself, would I know if I was going to poop? Usually I at least had some indication it would be happening soon, but I’d also usually get some idea I needed to wee, even if I didn’t have enough time to do anything about it. The teacher blew her whistle and instructed us to move round to the next activity. For our group it was performing gymnastic routines on the floor mats and low benches. Again, this was basically just playing rather than anything actually formal or organised, and again it was really good fun. As I was scrambling over the benches, I felt a familiar tensing in my tummy. It wasn't strong, not like I was going to have an accident right there and then, but it definitely was a signal that I needed to poop. Which then raised other questions. Now that I was in nappies, was I meant to tell the teacher that I needed to go to the toilet? Was I even allowed to? No one had told me the rules. I couldn't help but marvel at the irony. I was more aware of my need to poop than I'd been in months, and that alertness was all but useless if I was meant to be doing it in my nappy. But then that would be a silly rule to have. If I'd finally started knowing when I needed the toilet, surely that was a good thing and everyone would be pleased with me. I decided to be a big kid, climb off the bench and go tell the teacher that I needed to go to the toilet when it happened. Another tensing, no stronger than the one I'd felt at first, and all of a sudden I felt a warm, sludgy mass of poo being pushed out into my nappy. It had required no conscious effort on my part, and I hadn’t even had to stop crawling along the bench. I guess I had an answer to my question of whether I'd know I had to go. Although this left me with more to wonder about, because I knew I'd had an accident, and everyone else was going to realise within moments, but was I meant to tell the teacher? And if I was, did I have to raise my hand and announce my accident to everyone or could I go up to her discreetly? Everyone knew I was in nappies anyway, so it's not like it would be a surprise to them that I'd used it, but surely no one would be so cruel as to make me declare that I'd pooed my pants in front of the class. As with so many of the things in my life, I decided that the best option was to follow the path of least resistance. I continued crawling along the bench, then sat myself down on the gym mat and waited for someone else to notice. Which didn't take long. Even before I'd reached the end of the bench I could tell this smelled bad, and sitting down not only squished the mess everywhere, but also caused the smell to get worse. The rest of the class clearly knew they were forbidden from saying anything about it, because I didn’t hear any comments, not even whispers, but everyone in the room except the teacher and her assistant was glancing over at me and exchanging knowing looks. As my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, I wondered how often this scene had played out over the last two years. I'd always been the kid who had accidents in class, but at this point I couldn't work out whether being the kid who wore nappies was any less humiliating. After a few minutes of sitting in my filth, one of the girls raised her hand, and without waiting to be called on, declared “it really smells like poo in here. I think someone’s had an accident in their nappy.” A few of the other children sniffled giggles, and everyone looked over at me. To her credit, the teacher didn't let her get away with it, chastising her immediately by telling her she was very mean, and that her parents would be informed about her bullying. But that also let me know that although on the surface people were supportive, being the kid in nappies was at least on par in the humiliation stakes as being the kid who had accidents. While the girl, who apparently was called Jessica, sulked about being punished, the nice teaching assistant who had come to see me when I was getting changed beckoned me over, then escorted me out of the hall and to the sick room. This gave me another moment of familiarity, as this particular teaching assistant had taken me to this room to be cleaned up regularly over the course of my time at primary school. At least this time I wouldn't be going home with a stinking bin bag of my actual clothes, while wearing anything that fit me from the lost property box. As we got into the privacy of the room, she rubbed my shoulder and asked me if I was OK. I was a little confused at first, but realised she was talking about if I felt OK after what Jessica had said. I gave her a very soft, and not entirely convincing, “yeah” as a reply. “Remember, you're allowed to come and find me as soon as you realise you've had an accident.” “I know,” I lied, “but I didn't realise I had.” Now it was her turn to sound unconvinced, “Well try when you do know. Even if you're not certain. I don't mind checking you, and that way we can get you clean before anyone notices.” I nodded again, “OK.” “shorts off, let's see what we're dealing with” I did as I was instructed, letting my PE shorts fall to the floor. Without any further instruction, as if it were a part of a regular routine, she turned me around and looked in the back of the nappy. “I think you'd best take your shirt and socks off too” she said, a slightly ominous tone to her voice. Again I did as instructed, now standing there in nothing but my absolutely destroyed nappy. She laid out a disposable pad on the bed, then motioned for me to hop up onto it. As I did I felt the nappy squelch under me, and the sensation of liquid leak out of the leg guards. “I think I need to talk to your parents about getting some more absorbent nappies for you.” she said, in a very nonchalant way, “You've nearly leaked through this one, and I only checked you just before you went to PE.” I wondered whether more absorbent nappies would be thicker. Would that make them more noticeable? That wasn't likely to help with the comments. As I pondered this, the teaching assistant was busy getting herself ready for my change. She laid out a pack of wet wipes, a disposal bag, a clean nappy and a pot of rash cream on the bed beside me, then put on a pair of gloves, and drew the hospital-style curtain around the bed. This was a much more formal and medicalised experience than my previous changes, and the unfamiliarity made me quite nervous. I stared up at the ceiling as I felt the tapes on my nappy being undone, and the air hit my skin as the front was pulled down. That made the smell worse, and I squirmed a little in humiliation. “it's much easier if you keep still, please” she said, again a gentle and kind tone to her voice. I tried to do as I was told, but then I heard the door to the room open, and the voice of one of the ‘kids’ in my class as well as the teacher. They were talking about how he had hurt himself, and needed a plaster, but I also heard him say the word ‘stinks’, albeit under his breath. I went completely silent, but the look on my face was enough for the Assistant to realise I was upset. She kept going, using the front of the nappy to scrape off the worst of the mess that was still sticking to my butt, then switching to wet wipes to get the remainder off and get me clean. As she worked, she tried to reassure me, gently whispering that “It’ll be OK in a few minutes”. The teacher and the other ‘kid’ didn’t stay long, even if it felt like forever to me, but throughout their time in the room I was quite obviously having my bottom wiped clean, silhouetted by the hospital curtain. I assumed I was going to have more than one kid talking about me when I was done here. Eventually, after what felt like fifteen minutes solid of wiping, I was clean enough to have rash cream applied, and be sealed into a fresh nappy. After getting down from the bed, I redressed myself and was escorted back to the classroom. By the time I got back everyone was already getting changed ready for lunch break. I’d left my clothes in the accessible cubicle, but they had been moved by someone - probably the teacher - so that they were at my desk. I’m sure she thought she was helping, but it left me with a difficult choice. I could ask to use the cubicle and carry everything back in there, or I could get changed here. As everyone already knew what I was wearing, I bit the bullet and began to get changed. It would seem this wasn’t the first time I’d done this, as no one so much as looked over at me while I was getting dressed. Even still I tried to conceal what I was wearing as best as I could, swapping my t-shirt for my other shirt, and letting it hang down to cover the top of my nappy, while I crouched down to change out of my shorts. As soon as I was dressed, I joined everyone else lining up for lunch. The ‘kid’ next to me started making conversation, asking about a TV show that was probably important to me when I was a child, but I couldn’t even remember now. I chatted along anyway, grateful someone wanted to be my friend. Because in my experience as the kid in class who usually smelled bad, most people didn’t. We made our way into the dining hall - which was the same room as we’d used for PE - and got our food, fish fingers and chips. It looked as terrible as I remembered, but there was something quite comforting about it too. I found a seat at a table with the boy who had been talking to me, as well as several other ‘kids’. They were all very friendly, and involved me in their conversations, but there was also a bit of an undercurrent, as if they wanted to say something to me about my accident, but were worried about doing so. Eventually, one girl spoke up, “hey, sorry Jessica was so mean today.” I was surprised this was what they were afraid to say, but it was nice to hear. “It’s OK,” I replied. “It doesn’t bother me too much.” It would seem they took that to be an agreement to further discussion, as someone else butted in with a question, “do you know when you need to wee or poo?” “No”, I replied, saving them the more accurate but complex explanation of ‘kinda’. “What about when you’ve had an accident?” I thought about that. Earlier they’d witnessed me not responding to my accident and sitting in it. I imagined that I’d get teased if they thought I did that deliberately. But if they’d ever seen me go to a teacher about one in the past, they might think I was lying now. I hedged my bets, and went with what I assumed was the truth, “sometimes. But not always.” “Have you had an accident now?” the inquisition continued. “I don’t know.” This was the truth. I presumed not, but wasn’t confident one way or the other. “Do you need someone to check you?” another voice piped up, a little too eager for my comfort. “No, it’s OK, I replied.” “Do you get changed like a baby?” I blushed at this. I wasn’t actually sure how to respond. Because the truth was that I did, but admitting to it would be social suicide. “I…” I started to stammer out an answer, but then one of the other kids butted in. A boy who had a very obvious plaster on his face. “You do.” he declared, “I saw you on the bed in the sick room. Well, there was a curtain, so I didn’t see you, but I heard it happening. And smelled it.” The other kids giggled, and I felt myself almost begin to cry from humiliation. But then the kid continued, “but that’s OK, I still think you’re fun and cool.” Hearing that was surprisingly reassuring. Particularly when the others around the table agreed. I guess maybe things were less bad wearing nappies rather than having accidents without them. **** I felt Ally’s hand on my arm, gently stroking me awake. “Morning” her voice was soft and sweet, “how are you feeling?” I tried to work out. “Better than last night, I think.” “That’s good to hear”. She grinned at me, “You’re still going to the doctor though.” I smiled back. Given how I felt last night, I agreed with her that I should, but I’d been feeling faint and disorientated, they would probably assume it was something serious and overreact, and my whole day would be spent at the mercy of the medical profession. I felt her hands on my crotch. Or rather my nappy, prodding and patting. “You definitely need a change,” she declared, “want to hop in the shower first?” I nodded, then rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. I hadn’t planned to spend long in the shower, but just as I was getting out I felt my bladder release and realised I’d peed down my legs. I got back in and washed myself off again. I still had no idea what had happened, or why one very specific detail of my life had altered so drastically from how I remembered it, but it would seem that change meant my accidents were even less predictable, which meant I had no hope of going without protection. I got out of the shower and dried myself off, then opened the cupboard that Ally had got a nappy from last night. I was surprised by what I found, not just the number, which seemed to be enough to last for weeks, but also the variety. I had assumed that all nappies were like the ones Ally had ordered to deal with my bedwetting, but this cupboard held nappies that were a bit thinner, and ones that were far thicker that what I was used to wearing. As I had no idea what would be a good choice, I grabbed one that was identical to my usual overnight nappy, then laid on the floor so I could put it on. As I was lying there, about to tape myself into my nappy, the door opened and Ally walked in. It wasn’t unusual for us to keep the bathroom door open and walk in on one another. We’d been together long enough that it didn’t really make much difference, but I was a bit ashamed for her to see me lying down putting a nappy on in the bathroom. Evidently something confused her too, as she asked me what on earth I was doing on the floor. “Putting a nappy on” I replied, a little curtly. “But why are you lying down there to do it?” she responded, “and why are you using one of your thicker ones? You know you’re going to end up changing in the next hour or so. You always get stinky after breakfast.” I blushed when she told me that. “I… I think I’m still a little confused” I explained. “Would you like me to help?” “Yes please” I responded, lying back for her to finish taping me up. Ally walked to the cupboard and got out a tub of rash cream, then knelt down and applied it to my crotch and butt. Then she quickly closed up the nappy and taped it shut. “There” she said, “all ready”. She offered me her hand to help me up off of the bathroom floor. “Thank you” I said, as I stood back up. I headed back into the bedroom to get changed, while Ally went back downstairs to make some breakfast. When I joined her there was a cup of coffee and a sausage sandwich waiting for me. “I called the doctor” she explained while I tucked into my breakfast, “they told me to take you to the Urgent Care Unit at the hospital.” “Ugh.” I grunted. “That's going to be hideous today.” “Yeah,” Ally agreed, “but you're struggling to do even basic things right now, so we're getting you checked out whether you want to or not”. I stuck my tongue out at her, and she responded with a playful tap on my butt, which made a surprisingly loud sound thanks to my padding. Once I finished my breakfast I put my coat and shoes on and headed for the front door. “Forgetting something?” Ally asked, holding up my rucksack. I gave her a confused look. “Unless you plan to spend all day in the same nappy, you're going to need this.” I retrieved the bag from her and put it over my shoulder, then went outside to the car. * As we set off on our drive, Ally stroked my leg, setting me at ease a little bit. “Have you got any idea why you're struggling with things? Did you hit your head yesterday or something?” “No.” I answered, before realising that was probably a bit too ambiguous and needed clarification, “I didn't hit my head.” I let that hang in the air for a moment, considering my next words. “This is going to sound completely and utterly nuts” I began, “but I feel like I've fallen into a very slightly different parallel universe.” Ally didn't take her eyes off the road, but I knew exactly what look she would give me if she had. Her ‘incredulous face’ was pretty impressive. “I knew I shouldn't have let you watch ‘Everything Everywhere All At Once’” she joked. “It's not like that”, I replied. “Well it's kind of like that, but more… you remember that episode of Star Trek TNG where Picard gets shot in the chest?” One thing I’d learned early on when dating Ally was that falling back on our mutual love of Star Trek would usually help mist conversations. “Yeah” she replied, “‘Tapestry’”. “It feels like I’m going through something like that”. “In what way?” “In the childhood I remember, I still had accidents, but I wasn't put back into nappies.” “Everyone just let you wet and mess yourself without helping you?” she asked a little disgusted. “No. They tried to help. There were lots of doctors and things. As well as schedules and routines. And trying to coax me with shaming and rewards. But no one ever put me in nappies. The few times they tried I kicked up a fuss and they gave up.” “That sounds awful” “Yeah, it was.” the tone of my voice tinged with sadness. “But you managed to not have accidents eventually?” she asked, trying to work out what dream world I was contouring up. “No.” I replied, “They sometimes got less frequent for a while, but they eventually came back.” “So you started wearing incontinence pads as an adult?” I blushed and shook my head, “No.” I paused, a little bit of introspection took hold, “I acted like a brat and refused” “Why?” “I don't know. Maybe because I am a bit of a petulant brat” I confessed. “You are,” she agreed, before adding, “at times. But I love you.” There was a giggle in her voice. “Or maybe,” I continued, “because I'd had it drummed into me that they were babyish for so long that I didn't want to try them”. She didn't say anything for a little bit as she considered her response. “You don't believe me, do you?” I butted in. “I mean,” she began, “its kind of an insane thing to make up.” I felt incredibly silly. “I don't think it really matters.” she reassured me, “what I'm worried about is that you're not well and I want to make sure you're OK.” * We pulled into the hospital car park, got out of the car, and headed inside. The room was packed, with nearly all of the available seats full of people. It looked like most of them had been there for a while, as some of them were fast asleep. A triage nurse came to see us right away and Ally explained that I’d had to get off a train because I was feeling unwell last night, and by the time she came to pick me up I was really confused, which had continued until this morning. “Can you describe how you felt that made you get off the train?” The nurse asked. It was a reasonable question, but my heart sank at the thought of giving an answer. Particularly in such a public place. “I think it might be best if we discussed that in private” Ally butted in, saving my embarrassment. The nurse nodded, then continued, “have you had any sort of injury? Particularly blows to the head?” “I don’t think so,” I responded. “Any sort of numbness or loss of sensation?” I thought about wetting myself in the shower. I doubted that was what he was asking about, but I didn’t want to rule it out completely, “I’m not sure. Nothing really, but there is one thing. I’d just prefer to not discuss it out here if that’s OK?” He nodded again. “I’ll try to get a private room to do this in. If you can take a seat, I’ll only be a couple of minutes.” Ally and I thanked him and walked further into the room, looking for somewhere to sit. The room was so busy it was hard to find two seats together, but I spotted a couple in one of the far corners. I pointed them out to Ally, and we headed for them. As we were walking I felt a slight cramping in my tummy. I knew what that meant. I paused, glancing around for any signs to the toilets, but didn’t have time to spot one before I felt myself having an accident. Ally looked at my face and knew exactly what had happened. She came up close to me, “Did you just poo yourself?” she asked, in a whisper. “Yeah” I replied. “I’m guessing you’re going to want help changing.” “Yeah” “I think we’ll have to wait until the nurse comes back to us then, otherwise he might think we’ve gone.” I sighed. She was right, of course, but that meant at least the nurse, and likely a fair few other people in here, were going to discover that I’d just had an accident. The only slight comfort I had was that right now the smell wasn’t particularly noticeable. We continued to the seats, which had people either side, and sat down. I felt the nappy squish under me as I sat, and realised that I’d probably soaked myself at some point as well. I thought about making a preemptive apology to the person I was sitting beside, but decided not to. If they hadn’t noticed anything already I didn’t want to draw attention to the smell unnecessarily. Instead I rested my head on Ally’s shoulder and waited for the nurse to return. * It didn’t take long, only a few minutes. He led us into a consulting room and shut the door. “Take a seat, please” he instructed. I hesitated for a moment, hoping I might be able to get changed before we went through this consultation, but the nurse already had enough on his plate and delaying him while Ally helped me get clean wouldn’t be fair to everyone else. I took a seat. “So,” the nurse began, “can you elaborate on you feeling unwell last night?” I blushed, and squeezed Ally’s hand, knowing I was about to embarrass myself with my explanation. “I… I’m incontinent.” I began, “and last night I had some tummy issues. My accident was so bad that I didn’t feel like I could be in a public space, and I didn’t feel well enough to clean it up.” The nurse nodded. “And you mentioned loss of sensation? I’m assuming that’s related to your incontinence in some way too?” “Yes,” I replied, “I don’t know if this would count as ‘loss of sensation’, but I’m used to having some sort of sensation when I wet myself - either before, or at least during - but this morning I’ve only realised it’s happening when my skin feels warm and wet.” “That would certainly count as loss of sensation,” the nurse agreed. “I assume you wear incontinence pads to deal with the issue?” I nodded. “And the confusion,” he continued, “can you explain that to me?” “My memories feel a little jumbled and incorrect, most of them are fine, but there are details that I’d forgotten. Or rather that I remembered differently.” “Are you able to give any examples of that?” I thought for a moment. I didn’t want to be too specific, “We have a cupboard in the bathroom, and I remembered it containing completely different items to what’s in there. In spite of it never containing those items.” “That sounds… difficult to deal with,” the nurse said, searching for a suitable response. For a moment I considered telling him that several of my memories seemed off too, but before I could, he stood up. “I’d like you to stay here,” he explained, “I’m going to ask a doctor to come and see you right away.” My heart began to race, and I squeezed Ally’s hand. “It’s almost certainly nothing to be worried about,” the nurse continued, seeing how concerned we both looked, “the description of your confusion means that we need to assess you for a stroke., but it doesn’t seem like you’ve had one to me, so hopefully you’re just getting to skip the queue.” That was a relief. As he was walking out the door, Ally piped up, “Do we have time to run to the loo for a quick change?” I blushed at this, but was glad Ally asked “I’ll only be a couple of minutes,” the nurse replied, “but after you see the doctor I’ll make sure we can accommodate that.” When the nurse shut the door, I turned to Ally, “Well, that’s disconcerting,” I said, in a slightly jovial tone. “Yep.” She agreed, “but with any luck it’ll turn out to be nothing. And if it isn’t, I’ll be there beside you all the way.” The door opened and a doctor walked in. After introducing herself as Doctor Mayfield, she went through the same questions the triage nurse had asked, followed by checking whether I’d had any headaches or loss of vision. I told her that I hadn’t. Then she leaned in, and shone a light in my eyes to check my pupil response, pinched the back of my hands to check for a response to the sensation, followed by checking my pulse rate and blood pressure. “I’d like to send you for an MRI” she explained. “Everything seems normal, but I want to be absolutely certain before I send you home.” “OK” I said, a little disheartened at the prospect of sitting around waiting for an MRI, then sitting around longer waiting for the results. “I don’t mean to be impolite, but I think you might need to get changed.” she said. My cheeks went bright red, and I felt hot with embarrassment. “Would you like me to arrange for someone to help you?” she continued. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even speak. Fortunately Ally came to my rescue, “We’ll be OK, thank you. But it would be helpful to have somewhere to do it” Doctor Mayfield smiled, “That’s fine. If you come with me I’ll take you to somewhere appropriate. Do you need any incontinence pads?” “We have some with us,” Ally explained, “so we should be fine”. With that, the doctor led us out of the room, through the waiting area, and into a hallway. She opened the door to what appeared to be an accessible toilet, which also had a shower and a hospital bed in it. “You’re welcome to use this room” she said, “no one should disturb you, just make sure the door is locked.” “Thank you” Ally replied. “Once you’re done in here, if you head back to reception you can follow the signs down to radiography,” she explained, “I’ll phone through now and let them know you’ll be on your way. Then once the scan is done, come back here and check in with reception again.” We went inside and closed the door. “That was embarrassing,” I said. “Yeah,” Ally agreed, “but I guess she’s used to dealing with people who have had accidents, so I’m sure she wasn’t judging.” “I guess” I replied “And at least we can get you cleaned up before the MRI.” she continued, “Clothes off and on the bed, please.” I did as I was told, stripping down to nothing but my nappy and my socks. As I did, Ally took a bed pad off the cart in the corner and laid it out for me to lie on, then I climbed up onto the bed. As I lay there, it began moving upwards. I looked at Ally who had the control for the bed in her hand and was giggling to herself. “Are you having fun there?” I asked. “Yep.” She replied, as the bed came to a stop. “I might have to get one of these for home. “Child.” I joked. “Says the stinky crinklebutt,” I pouted. Strangely, I found this teasing kind of enjoyable, even though I’d always found similar comments deeply upsetting. “Right, let’s see what I’m dealing with” Ally said as she untaped the nappy and pulled it down. “Just a little mess” she continued, “won’t take long to sort out.” I felt her tug the nappy out from underneath me a little, then begin wiping me down. She was true to her word, it didn’t take long, and within a minute or two she was wrapping the used nappy up and depositing it in the bin. “Lift up,” she said, tapping my butt so she could slide my clean nappy underneath me. Again, I did as I was told. Safely fastened into my new padding, I got off the bed, put my clothes back on, and headed off to find the radiology department. We checked ourselves in at the reception desk, and were taken into a side room where a consultant gave me a hospital gown and robe to put on, and asked whether I had any piercings. I took longer to answer than I’d have expected, because I didn’t, as far as I knew, but I also didn’t wear nappies all the time, as far as I knew, so I was a little unsure of whether I could trust my memory. Fortunately, Ally jumped in to confirm that I was piercing free. I stepped behind a curtain to get changed, emerging with my clothes in a basket, and my modesty barely covered by the clothes I’d been given. As I sat back down, my nappy gave a surprisingly loud crinkling noise, which drew the attention of the consultant. “It’s an incontinence pad” Ally explained. “In which case, would you be more comfortable waiting for the scan in here, rather than the waiting area?” the consultant asked. “That would be much better,” I chimed in, “thank you.” “What’s the time?” I asked Ally when the consultant left. “Just gone eleven. Why?” She replied. “I’m starting to get hungry.” “Me too.” She agreed, “Assuming we get done here soon-ish, shall we stop somewhere for lunch?” “If we get out in enough time we could grab a pizza hut buffet.” I suggested. “We could…” “You don’t sound too sure.” “Well, pizza tends to give you an upset stomach.” “Yeah,” I replied, with a slight smile, “but I’m wearing a nappy, so it’s not like there’s going to be a problem.” “A nappy that I’m going to have to change” she shot back. “There is that.” “But I guess you do deserve a treat for going through all of this.” The door opened, and the consultant called me through. He led me to the MRI room and asked me to get on the bed. “This is going to take about an hour,” he explained “so make yourself comfortable and try to relax as best as you can.” I did as he told me, lying as still as I could, while the scanner began its work. In spite of the noise and vibration, I began to zone out and felt my eyes closing. **** The steady rumble of the car tyres on the road was almost hypnotic, as were the yellow tinged street lamps that passed by as we drove along the motorway. It was soothing just sitting here in the back of the car, even though my legs were feeling kind of cramped. There was still a tiny bit of evening light left. Not enough to read by, so the stack of comics beside me was all but useless, but it let me gaze out at the fields that we passed by. I assumed for a minute that the smell was the manure being sprayed to fertilise those fields, but of course that wasn't the case. This situation was such a common feature of my childhood and teen years, that it was nearly impossible to place when in time it was - although from the car we were in, and the comic covers beside me, I guessed it must have been when I was about nine. The situation would always play out exactly the same. We'd be on the way home from a day out, I'd have gone to the toilet before getting in the car, then some time in the journey I'd have an accident. As soon as I realised it had happened, I would pretend to be asleep, so that I didn't spend the entire journey being told off, then we would get home and I would have to deal with the clean up while being told I was too old to still have accidents. Through force of habit, I closed my eyes, ready to put up the sleep-charade. Then I heard my mum's voice, “have you had an accident?” I didn't answer. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep. She called my name, but I didn’t respond. I heard the windows in the front of the car wind down and the sound of my parents talking. Although it wasn’t clear what they were saying over the noise of the wind rushing in. After about ten or fifteen minutes more driving I felt the car pulling off the road and slowing down. This was something of a surprise, because the road we had been on was nowhere near my parents’ house. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, trying to work out what was gong on. Outside the window was a large car park and a well-lit building. We were at a service station. “Why have we stopped?” I asked, my voice tinged with confusion. “We need to get you changed,” my mum explained, “I think you've pooed yourself.” There was no hint of criticism or chastising in her voice, just a statement of fact. “I… I don’t think so” I protested. I have no idea why, because I didn’t seem to be in trouble, and it was very obvious to anyone with a nose that I stank, but the habit of denying accidents was so well-formed that I couldn't help myself. “Well either way I’d like to stretch my legs,” she explained, “and if you’re not sure about having had an accident, I’ll need to check you to make sure.” That last sentence filled me with anxiety. The car park was nearly full, and the service station had loads of people going in and out. There was no way she would check me somewhere so public, was there? She opened her door, and after a little hesitation, I did the same, stepping out into the car park. With her threat of a nappy check I made sure to stay out of arm's reach, keeping a few steps away from her while she walked round the car to take out a bag from the boot. With the bag in hand she started walking toward the service station and I followed. As we passed through the crowd of people coming out of the building I heard talking about the ‘smell’, and giving me accusatory glances. I had already worked out that while I perceived myself, along with most of the ‘kids’ who were my peers, as adults, other people perceived me as a child, and this was a brutal reminder of how cruel many adults had been growing up. While generally no one would say a word to me as an adult who had had an accident, it was pretty common when I was a kid for people to comment on them, whether that was the smell, the potential risk to furniture and carpets, or how weird it was for a child my age to have wet or messed themselves. We got to the toilets, stopping outside the accessible cubicle. My mum reached into her bag and took out a key. I looked at them a little confused. “What’s the key for?” I asked. “It’s the Radar key”, she explained, with a tone that told me I should know, “it’s to unlock the disabled toilet.” She knocked on the door and someone called out from inside. “I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until they’re done.” she told me. I sighed. I was self-conscious enough as it was. The smell from my accident was clearly noticeable, I was being escorted around the service station like a really little kid, and I now had to stand outside the accessible toilet, in full view of everyone, waiting to have my nappy changed. I may have been overreacting, or misreading the situation, but I really felt like everyone who walked past was judging me. “Can we wait somewhere else?” I asked. “Why?” my mum replied, “there’s not really anywhere else to go.” “Because everyone is looking at me” I whined “I know it seems like that,” she said, “but they’re not. And I don’t really want to take you anywhere else, until I get you changed. It’s not fair on other people.” “I suppose,” I said. The door to the toilet opened, and a woman wheeled herself out. She gave my mum a slightly confused and somewhat scathing look before heading off. Once she was gone we went inside. I knew the drill by now, and without being asked I began to strip off while my mum put the bag down and got the bits out to change me. By the time she was done I was standing in just my nappy and socks. “Well done” she said, a little surprised by how cooperative I was being. I began to lie down but she stopped me. “I don’t think lying down is going to be a good idea. The floor is filthy.” “Oh, OK” I stood still. She moved closer and began to untape my nappy, keeping hold of it with one hand so it didn’t fall to the floor. Once the tapes were off she used the back of it to dislodge the poop that was stuck to my butt before lowering it to the ground. “You really didn’t know you’d had an accident?” my mum asked, a little incredulous. “I wasn’t sure” I replied, “I think I was asleep when it happened, and when you asked me I thought it might have just been a fart, or the smell from outside.” She didn’t look convinced. “If you’re not sure it’s always best to check,” she explained, “otherwise you’ll end up with a rash again.” I nodded in agreement, but didn’t say anything. Cleaning me up didn’t take long, which I guess was due to the years of practice that my mum must have had doing it by now, and within minutes I was ready to be put in a clean nappy. I was surprised when I saw the one she got out for me. It was much thicker than the one she had just taken off, and I was fairly convinced that it wouldn’t fit under my clothes. “Why’s it so big?” I asked. “As you were falling asleep in the car I thought it would be better if I got you ready for bed now, so I don’t have to wake you up when we get in.” Dammit! I brought this on myself. “But it’s going to be obvious to everyone.” I whined. “The people in the service station?” She asked. I nodded in reply. “You’re never going to see any of them again, so you don’t need to worry about them.” This was actually quite reassuring and liberating. What did it matter if a bunch of strangers saw me in a nappy? It wasn’t like that was going to have any impact on my life in future. I let her put it on me, then dressed myself in the pyjamas that she handed me from the bag, and followed her out to the car. People definitely did stare at me as we walked past, but I felt indifferent to them. And almost confident about being in a very obvious nappy in public. **** I opened my eyes just as the bed I was lying on was withdrawing from the MRI machine, and a technician’s voice came over the speaker in the room: “We’re all done. Someone will be with you in a moment to help you up.” A porter came in shortly afterwards, and gave me a hand getting off the table, then led me back out to the waiting room where Ally was sitting looking extremely bored. I gave her a wave, and after a moment zoning back into reality, she waved back. She seemed a little surprised to see me, “I expected you would want to get changed back in the office you used before” she explained. I thought about that for a moment, “I don’t think it really matters” I replied, “It’s not like I’m going to see anyone we run into again.” She smiled, “Glad you’re sounding more like your old self.” I took the basket of clothes from her and headed into a toilet to change. After a reasonably short walk through the hospital, we were back at urgent care, waiting to see Doctor Mayfield again. “So, are we still going to Pizza Hut when we’re done here?” I asked. “I suppose so.” Ally sreplied, a jovial reticence to her tone. I gave her a huge grin in response. She thought for a moment, then continued, “Sometimes I think I’m dating a twelve year old.” “That’s why you love me” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. Just as I did, we were called in to see Doctor Mayfield. We walked into her office, and she had us sit down. I instantly became nervous and gripped Ally’s hand. “So good news,” the doctor began, “nothing has come back on the MRI that has given us any cause for concern.” I breathed a sigh of relief.and eased my grip a little. “So we’ll be discharging you shortly” she continued. “Thank you” I said, a little weakly. “You’re welcome.” she replied, “There is one thing that caught the attention of the consultant who looked at the scan.” I squeezed Ally’s hand again. She did the same to mine. “It’s nothing to worry about,” she continued, - i loosened my grip slightly - “but there was an unusually high degree of activity in your temporal lobe during the scan.” “What does that mean?” Ally asked. “In truth, we don’t know.” the consultant replied, “It’s certainly not a bad thing, just unusual. I’m going to make a referral to the neurology department so they can follow up.” “Thank you” I repeated, “when will that be?” “I’m not sure at the moment,” the doctor explained, “but you’ll likely get a letter confirming the appointment in a week or so. For now though,you’re good to go.” And with that I was once again free from the clutches of the medical profession. At least for a few weeks. As we were leaving Ally paused, “Would we be OK to use that changing room again before we leave?” “Of course,” the doctor replied, “I’ll let you through the security door.”. One quick change of a very soggy nappy later, and we were out of the hospital and back in the car.

Chapter 44: Hunger Chad looked down at his shirt as time slowed and Emma’s heart accelerated, “Sorry I-“ Chad cut her off, his mouth near her ear, “I was going to wait until after the meeting, but you left me no choice.” He took the hot coffee box and grabbed her wrist, pulling her behind him and to an empty office near the corner of the office area with the blinds closed. Chad closed the door and set the coffee on the empty table as he grabbed the other iced coffee and set it down quickly. Emma was so stunned at his quick movements that before she knew it, he was unzipping her skirt and pulling her skirt and underwear down in one swoop. He sat on the chair, pulling her towards him as she resisted for the first time. Chad’s eyes flashed in a disbelief that she dared to not obey his command, especially when she’d been late and causing his meeting to also be late. Emma seethed, “You’re not seriously going to do this in here, right?” Her voice a sharp blade cutting the air in a low voice, head turning to the windows and knowing a spank would be quite loud and audible to adjacent offices. “Graham’s new office is to the right and you have no place to question me.” Chad said, voice a low growl as he tugged her wrist roughly and Emma moved finally, sprawling over his lap, “You’re lucky I have a meeting to get too or else this would be much longer.” He stated, before a hard spank and pain radiated through her bottom. Emma put her hand over her mouth to muffle her yelp as Chad quickly but calculatedly gave her over 15 good swats that left her behind raw and red. He wasn’t merciful to the loud noises nor caring anymore who could hear as Emma bit back yelps and groans. The worst part was that she even accidentally moaned, the sexual frustration she regretted not releasing with a vibrator the night before making her uncomfortably wet and writhing underneath him. Chad let Emma stand after a few minutes, knowing he needed to get back to his meeting as he stood, frowning at the wet spot on his pants from Emma’s excitement and cursing under his breath, “If I had a diaper, you’d be in one in a second with your tight little skirt. You’re lucky-“ “That you have a meeting, I get it. Threaten me after.” Emma said, voice a little rough from a few tears she shed. Chad paused, staring at Emma a longer second with a flicker of annoyance at her attitude, “We’ll resume your spanking after then. Maybe I’ll consider keeping you in diapers over the weekend if you keep up your attitude.” He growled, staring a moment later with the same feral flicker as earlier. He broke his gaze and grabbed the coffees, “I don’t trust you not spilling again. How about you go to the bathroom, clean your shirt and then come to the meeting?” He said with a sigh, looking down at her shirt with a spill, then his own in annoyance. Emma nodded, blotting under her eyes once more before nodding and letting Chad lead her out as she turned opposite directions. She passed Jessica who glanced at Emma then back to her computer, ignoring Emma’s look and what she saw in the hallway minutes ago. Luckily, Graham was back in his office… or unlucky for Emma that he was, as she strolled past and went to the restroom. As much as Emma blotted her camisole, the stain was there. She finally gave up and went back up the stairs, slipping into the now dimmed room quietly as Chad was going over their meeting agenda. He didn’t even look at Emma as he spoke, just flipping through slides and then handing off the presentation to Derek to go over monthly financial goals and budgets. When Chad sat, it was behind Emma’s chair and she unfortunately could feel the thick tension between them as he crossed his arms and listened. It was almost like she could feel his infuriation as she sat quietly, trying to not move until the end of the meeting. After 30 minutes of Derek speaking, then Sav and then Adam, Emma hadn’t even drank her coffee in fear of Chad’s wrath. Emma’s anxiety was already blossoming, she didn’t need coffee to accelerate that in the moment, after all. Another 20 minutes dragged slowly on and Emma only took a sip or two more of her coffee, listening to Sav and then Chad went back up and spoke about the projects he’d assigned to different consultant groups and their new clients that month. Emma found herself biting her lip and shifting in a slightly aroused state as she watched Chad speak to the other executives. The idea of him spanking her and diapering her only making her wetter as she heard Chad close the meeting a few minutes early. “Any questions?” His eyes scanned the room slowly, his brown eyes finding Emma’s moss green ones looking timidly back at him. Derek rose his hand and Chad turned his attention away from her flushed face. “Derek, go ahead.” “What are the chances of increasing the Happy Hour budget each Friday for a Brazilian steakhouse?” The whole room laughed as Chad smirked. “You try that one every quarterly meeting.” Chad said with a chuckle. “We’re getting closer to a yes, right?” Derek said, opening his hands in a gesture. “If you get us 3 new clients by September, I’d consider it.” Chad said, going to his laptop and closing out of the presentation. “I’m not apart of outreach though.” Derek said in an exasperated groan as people laughed before they began getting up and leaving. “Exactly.” Chad murmured, disconnecting his laptop as the lights turned on and Emma shifted, uncrossing her legs. In less than a minute the room cleared out besides Chad, Derek and her. Emma blinked, standing up as she felt Chad’s eyes intensely focus on her. “Emma, how about you put your hands on the table?” Chad said, his voice firm and commanding suddenly as Derek was about to leave the room. Emma’s face turned red quickly and she was shocked by Chad saying that so soon after people had left. Her head turned to Chad as she saw him lower the black blinds that made the room semi-private. “Oooh, someone’s in trouble.” Derek said with a grin, looking between Chad’s stare and Emma who was like a deer in headlights. He nodded and went to the door, “I’ll leave you two. Be a good girl, little Emma.” He smiled knowingly, an annoying twinkle in his green eyes before he left. “Why do we have to do this here? This is, like, right near where people walk Chad!” Emma said in a hushed voice, a pleading tone hinting her voice. Chad crossed his arms, eyes unwavering in intensity, “Now. Emma. Don’t make me count to 3.” Emma said in a whine, “I rather do this downstairs near Graham’s office.” She sighed as her eyes glanced at the slivers of window she could barely see through to the balcony hallway that looked over the cubicles. Sure, there was privacy but anyone could walk by and hear or see! Had Chad lost it and his touch with reality? Emma couldn’t believe it, her body hesitantly following his command as she put her palms on the large meeting table, having to bend down. “Good girl.” Chad murmured, walking over to Emma and his hands going to Emma’s waistband of her skirt. His finger hooking into the waistband area and her underwear, swiftly pulling down both garments of fabric. Emma gasped in the sudden cool air from the room touching her bottom. Even though Emma had spankings bare bottom before, there was a new unnerving feeling in being in a much more public space with her butt just completely exposed. Emma yelped as she felt a hard spank hit her soft flesh earlier than anticipated. Her situation only worsened as Chad said, “Go on your elbows, baby Emma.” Emma’s head tilted slightly to Chad in annoyance, and she paused. In that pause, he spanked her again, even harder, “Or I can go much longer if you don’t behave, hm?” Emma shook her head, “Please no.” She mumbled, wincing for a moment in the pain stinging her bottom as she went on her elbows almost like she was doing a plank as she grasped her hands and arched her back, her bottom sticking up higher now. “Good.” He said, his hand caressing her bottom and warming it for a moment before landing a series of hard spanks to Emma’s bottom. She had held in any noise possible outside of a few smaller grunts and whimpers of pain. The one thing she held back more than anything was any moan that she almost made. Emma didn’t know what was happening to her that morning but she was more excited than usual and the spanking wasn’t helping, only escalating her burning between her thighs. Emma made a mental note that she needed to touch herself that night, that was certain. After a few minutes, Emma was trembling. Her brain kept in a paranoid state of who may hear the spanking. Part of her wondered if someone would burst in the room wondering if someone was getting assaulted. Another part of her wondered if people already knew what Chad was capable of and ignored it. Or, for Emma’s sake, they didn’t hear anything nor were close enough. Emma never had heard anything outside of the room when she passed afterall. It was wishful thinking of Emma and to save the last of her ego, she’d believe it for now. Chad halted after a minute longer of Emma trembling, helping her back into her panties and skirt. He blinked a moment when his eyes saw the wetness from Emma and also in her light pink panties, “Someone’s wet again. Good thing you’ll be back in your diapers soon, hm?” He said, pulling up Emma’s undergarments. Emma blotted her watery eye as she stood and straightened her skirt, “Yes, Daddy.” She said Daddy in hopes she could get on Chad’s good side for the day. Chad smirked, eyes staring for a moment longer than usual before he broke their gaze and took her hand, “C’mon, let’s get you changed out of these big girl clothes.” An hour later, Emma was sitting at her desk with her sippy cup of coffee, wearing a white ruffle skirt that barely covered her thick white diaper. Chad dressed her in a soft pink t-shirt onesie and her light pink paci clipped in the pocket. Emma hoped and prayed she didn’t have to leave the room that day, considering she didn’t have a cardigan. She cursed herself for that mistake, how could she be so dumb to forget that! “Do you have any plans in June?” Chad asked, breaking the silence of Emma coloring and Chad typing. Emma looked up, her eyebrows knitting together behind her paci, “Neth month?” “Yes.” He said, eyes twinkling as he couldn’t help by smirking at how adorable she was in her pacifier muffled state with her diaper peaking out just a bit underneath her skirt. It was hard for him to not melt every time he looked at her. “Um, juth with fwiends on a weekend or two.” She mumbled with a shrug. His eyes bounced, “Well, we have a company trip scheduled for the last week of June. You’re going to want to block off that week. We leave the Friday and come back on Sunday the 27th.” Emma blinked to Chad, confused, “Where are thwe gwoe-ing?” Chad went to his computer, turning away from her, “San Deigo.” He typed for a moment and paused, “I’m booking your flight today. Just make sure you change your plans if you have any, hm?” Emma blinked in surprise, “Okay.” San Deigo, California? She’d never been and had always wanted to go to California. She supposed it wouldn't be a bad trip to visit somewhere new. The only thing she worried of was Chad finding excuses to embarrass her on a business trip. She'd imagine he wouldn't, but, alas, it seemed like Chad wouldn't let her be not padded in his sight. Another hour of coloring went by before Emma decided to wet her diaper. She could tell Chad knew by his head tilting in her direction as he typed. This time, she made sure to wait until Chad was looking to be in a flow state of work to do it, then she’d be sure he wouldn’t sneak up behind her to squish the padding. Although she really enjoyed when he did that last time, Emma feared her heightened aroused state may embarrass her further if she let him do that. After ten minutes as Emma shifted in her warm diaper, Chad came over and looked over her coloring pages she did that morning, “Such pretty colorings, baby Emma.” He said, leaning down and his hand going under her skirt to press into the diaper. Emma almost moaned from the sudden touch to her sweet spot. Emma had a feeling Chad hadn’t meant to do that, but he definitely did that unintentionally to her. Her face went hot red instantly as she froze on how fucking turned on that made her. Her eyes looked up to Chad who blinked, ignoring her odd reaction as he said, “I think it’s time for some cuddles and maybe a diaper change, hm?” Chad didn’t let Emma respond, picking her up in a swift movement as she giggled in the sensation of being lifted, “Buh- I have colowing to fwinish!” She said, her brain becoming fuzzy on the idea of cuddling and how turned on she already was. “You can finish it after, hm?” Chad chuckled at her frown behind her paci as he sat on the couch so easily with her in his arms. Chad couldn’t resist the urge for closeness with Emma. It had been a long week of meetings and work with little to no playtime with his new baby, after all. On top of that, she was too cute to not cuddle that day. Although Chad was a strict daddy who liked to give punishments, he also liked to give his affection after all. Chad settled back so he was laying on the couch and slowly moved Emma onto her back, grabbing her wrist as Emma squinted in confusion before grumbling, “No, Ch-Daddy!” She groaned as his other hand quickly began tickling her and she writhed underneath him. He moved over her like last time and pinned her down easily with one leg. “What was that, little baby Emma?” Chad said, eyes bouncing in mischief as he went from underneath her underpits to her sides and stomach. “HAHAHA- Nuffin!” She said, writhing underneath him and happy she didn’t accidentally call him by his first name. “That’s what I thought. Hm…” He paused, giving her a moment to breath between her cute little giggles, “I think last time I was close to finding someone’s tickle spot.” He said, tilting his head with a corner of his mouth rising. “Buh- EEK! Not there!” Emma yelped in Chad’s quick shift to her legs as he sat on the couch and pinned one leg down with his ankle and grabbed the other one with his strong arms. His fingers tickling her foot without mercy as she writhed harded than before, “HAHAHA- PLEASE!” She accidentally dropped the pacifier as she felt her bladder twitch. Emma thought she was done peeing, but Chad’s tickling was making her feel so many things. Her breathing was ragged, her body was sweaty, and she felt fucking aroused, which didn’t help at all to say the least. Emma laughed hard, feeling herself give up the fight and she felt her bladder twinge in release of more urine. Chad smiled handsomely to Emma’s cute giggles as he watched and felt her body relax a little and he could guess what she was doing. Chad didn’t stop anytime sooner either as he went to the other foot and then to behind her knees. After a few more minutes, Emma was spent and Chad decided to stop his wrath. He popped her pacifier back in her mouth and scooped Emma back into his arms, laying on the couch. Emma was catching her breath, feeling like she ran a marathon but it was really just being tickled mercilessly as she calmed down. Chad grinned and his hand floated down to her diaper, “Baby Emma is all wet, hm?” His hand squished the recently warmed diaper padding into her as Emma shifted, eyes blinking up to Chad’s in surprise of the pleasure she felt. Huh, something about the damn diaper and a really fucking hot guy that happened to be her boss touching her did that, it seemed. Emma wanted to think it was because of her sexual frustration building up with Chad that she was more heightened in arousal. It wasn't the diaper nor Chad... at least that's what she'd tell herself! Emma bit the pacifier to stop her moan as he patted and pressed again, “What a good girl,“ He murmured, eyes watching her with a twinkle of love within them, “wetting your diapers like the baby you are.” Chad’s eyes melted as he looked at her in her lost and little state, not realizing what his touch would do as he dared to squish her wet diaper another time. Emma bit back her moan, gasping instead behind the pacifier, eyes fluttering at release, feeling heat waft over her and a euphoric feeling. Emma’s breathing hitched with surprise and mortification rolling over her whole body. The verbal teasing. The touching of the diaper. The wetness in her diaper pressed into her was too overwhelming for her senses and his words made her shudder in a climax of pure pleasure and humiliation. It was the most powerful feeling she had ever felt, a high she hadn’t known existed until now. She didn’t just… no, there was no way. Not in a fucking diaper and in front of Chad. Emma refused to believe that that had just happened. He wasn’t even trying to touch her like that and she just… Emma felt her body calm as her breathing leveled out and she wanted to believe he didn’t see it nor feel it. Bright redness flushed her cheeks as her eyes connected with his and she caught the flicker in his eyes of something she’d never seen from him to this intensity before. Feral fucking energy. His eyes were livid, unwavering and wild, unbelieving that she just did that. Like he was mad at her for crossing that line. Emma didn’t mean too, really! She couldn’t help it… she just- fuck! Then, there was a flicker of something she caught a second before he blinked it away. Pure hunger. For her. She’d never seen his gaze like that before, and then it was gone, his eyes switching to being disappointed of her behavior. Yet his body told an entirely different story of what he was thinking, and she felt him pressing into her diapered bottom, hard. For the first time, Emma knew it wasn’t just her. Contractual relationship or not, that heated chemistry was there, and this confirmed it. No matter how much Chad would act like it was only her. Emma didn’t know what to do with that information besides feeling more frustration between them and she’d just get more worked up over something she’d never have with him. It was insulting, really. __________________________ In all my stories I've wrote some smut-like or smut scenes and I find whenever I post this some will love it, some may not. Whether you enjoy the scene or not, this last scene of the story is surprisingly important for the plot and character dynamics. Anywho, the next few chapters will be delivered soon and we're almost to the end of this first part of this story. Will there be a second? Well, maybe if I stick to writing diligently for once and continue it(your feedback motivates me to write haha). Anywho, here's to a new chapter!

I went back to sleep. When I woke up, I had to pee. I knew what mom’s answer would be so I just resigned myself to wetting the diaper. Oddly, despite my bed-wetting history, I found it difficult to intentionally do it lying in bed. I stood up, got the flow going, and then returned to bed. Mom came with some soup later and asked if I needed a change. After she left, I consumed the soup. I passed the time reading a book I was supposed to write a report on for school. Suddenly, I felt a grumbling in my gut. The sensation grew stronger. “Mom!” I called out. She appeared in my room quickly. “What’s up, dear?” she asked. “I need to use the toilet,” I said. “You need to stay in bed. You have your diaper.” “But I have to poop.” “Let me know when you do. I’ll change you. We don’t want you to get a rash.” Not get a rash? I started to cry. She really expected me to dump in the diaper. I tried to put it out of my mind and went back to reading the book. But soon, it became unbearable, and I just let it happen. A large amount of liquid stool erupted into the diaper. This was disgusting. “Mom!” I cried. She came up and spread a pad on the bed and then started to clean me up. Before putting a new diaper on me, she opened a plastic jar and scooped some of the contents onto her fingers. “What’s that?” I asked in fear. She held the jar up for me to see. Butt Paste, it proclaimed, and a cartoon baby smiled at me from the jar. “We don’t want you to get a rash.” Just great. She spread the stuff over my butt and rediapered me. I was hoping I’d not have to do this again. I made it through the rest of the day without any more poopy diapers, though I did wet. In the morning, Mom took the pajamas off and removed my diaper. She had me roll over on my front, and I saw her pick up a thermometer. I was getting ready for her to place it in my mouth when she went down and pushed it into my rear. “This is how we take temperature in babies,” she said in a childish voice. Just great. After a bit, she pulled it out and pronounced me normal, and told me I could get dressed for school. I was happy to do that. Time passed. I continued to wear the sleeper at night, and on a few days, I was home sick, so I was confined to bed in it. But largely, it remained my personal situation. Oh, there were times we had a babysitter, and Mom insisted we get into our pajamas early, but that wasn’t too bad. I went through larger and larger versions of the sleeper and switched from Pampers to some medical brand of diapers. I had seen commercials for Goodnites and tried that with my mother, but it was no go. It just became a part of my life, and I was unconcerned with it until my sophomore year in high school.

It's been a few months since I've given an update here. I know many people are curious how far they can expect to come when trying to become reliant on diapers over time. It's now been just over a full year of wearing diapers 24/7 and the changes are still happening to me. Slow as they may be to develop. You definitely have to be patient and truly want this because it's a very slow process. That said, I do have some exciting developments. I'm now easily able to pee myself while laying down on my side. I barely even have to push anymore. Sometimes my body just does it on its own and I don't have to put in any effort. I could still stop it if I wanted to. Of course I never try to though. Wetting while laying on my stomach has been one of the more challenging things to accomplish but this is now finally getting easier as well. I have to push a bit to get it started but then once the flow starts it all comes out. At least I don't have to sit up or roll on my side anymore. This is a new development and I'm a side sleeper so this is probably just a result of weakened control rather than practice. I'm usually not on my stomach. Walking while peeing has been the most difficult out of everything for me. Progress is continuing here though as well. If I stop walking then start peeing I can walk again and I can feel it continue to trickle out. Then once I stop walking I suddenly pee some more. Probably just showing signs of overactive bladder and lessened control here? I welcome it if so. If I stay well hydrated I pee every 20 minutes give or take, in small amounts. On average I pee every couple of hours when I am not well hydrated usually in the morning but I always pee in a much smaller amount than I would have when I got an urge to pee 12 months ago. Bladder capacity is probably about half of what it used to be. Sometimes I hardly even feel it coming out but I know I'm peeing because my diaper will get warmer. As for bowels, farts just kinda come out without permission now. Poop can slide out almost on its own sometimes. I still feel when I need to poop and I'm sure I could still hold it if I wanted to. But I don't have to put effort in to filling a diaper anymore. A couple minutes after I get an urge, out it goes without me pushing. I just kinda stand there like a 2 year old and go. I do eat a lot of fiber and drink plenty of water so that of course helps. Don't get discouraged by the amount of time it takes, changes will happen but you have to stay committed. Make sure you push as little as possible. Just make yourself go on your own if you can so you aren't using your muscles down there. Water is your best friend. But DO NOT drink multiple bottles of water in a very short amount of time. Water poisoning is real. Drink a 16 ounce bottle and wait an hour or so then you can drink some more. It scares me when I read people online that drink before bed to the point where they're in pain. Drink over time rather than drinking a whole lot all at once. I know it's exciting to wet yourself, believe me, I know. But dependancy is a slow process. If you want to take a water pill or laxative, only take one in a 24 hour period and don't use them daily. You want reliance on diapers not supplements. Do I have any regrets? HELL NO! I still love this and I'm proud to have come this far. I feel like a toddler failing his potty training. 😝🚼

In days to come, beyond this bower of endless night, Spring beckons, those longer months of airy delight. There is in her the promise of things still to come, The Goddess and the mortal, Far apart, yet forever entwined as one. Still, ’tis now a January day, That calls to mind the roses of a season past. Petals fallen, their bloom long turned to dust, They testify in truth that nothing, no, nothing lasts. So why does pain endure, like the bloody weals running ’cross my back? The whip that cracks, closely measured, never slack. Pitiless she is, and forever cruel, Exquisite this Mistress, my beloved, my leathern jewel. In suspense unending these games we play, Full measure the pleasure ultimately dispensed my way. Now, ’tis my blood that taints her lips, My reward this single, fleeting, crimson kiss. But ’tis late, the minutes so quickly slipping by, One fleeting hour, one last lingering and painful— One last goodbye.

What kind of pop are you drinking? I was primarily a Dr Pepper drinker all day and up to bed time, but last year I switched it up and stop drinking Caffeine pops at around 8pm and switch to non-caffeinated pop such as Sprite or Starry or 7up, I feel I have been able to fall aseep better since I started that. (I drink the diet or zero versions of all of those)

I have been weighing , my totally used diapers , a few , and the average is about a good 5 lbs . but I have had it weigh up to 7lbs. on more than few occasions, now this is on my bathroom scales , so I don’t know how , accurate, they are , but it’s always the same megamax , clean diaper , when it’s not been used !

Sorry about all the things life has decided to throw at you. You did nice job on the erotica part. The story is so good that the waiting is hard since babies are not known for their patience but so far well worth it. Here's hoping your mother's cancer remission is long-term.

Thanks! I haven't gone diaperless to test anything. For one thing I already got rid of all my big boy undies and for another I'd be worried about potentially undoing my hard earned progress by doing that. I do wonder how much control and capacity I really have now but considering I get the sudden urge to pee but then not a lot comes out I'm willing to bet that it's definitely on the decline.

Part 2: “You will pay the piper now!” The words sounded in her mind, and they were her last memory. Everything else disappeared and her vision blurred for a few seconds. A magic vortex sucked her in. When her vision cleared, her first sensation was a cold and hard surface beneath her body. She opened her eyes and spotted the sky above her head. The sun was just setting. Leaves rustle and bird singing were the only sounds she could hear. What happened? Where was she? When she lifted her head, she could see the ruins of a castle. That place was unfamiliar, and she was lying on a stone ground near a stairwell. She realized she shouldn’t stay in the forest. Forest could be dangerous at night; and she should find some shelter before dusk. The cold stone beneath her back got uncomfortable and she tried to sit up. However, her muscles failed to respond; her arms were sitting on the ground at her sides and her legs stayed on the ground. A cold chill ran down her spine. She was paralyzed. Her arms and legs were useless. She could move her head, but she was unable to move or use her arms and hands. “HELP!” she screamed, and her voice echoed in the ruins. However, there was no answer; the place was deserted. “HELP!” “HELP!” The bird singing ceased for awhile, but that was the only response to her screams. Time was passing slowly, and darkness fell over the forest. The air cooled down and she shivered. Her throat was dry after all the screams. How long could she live without water? The cold stone beneath her was quite unpleasant and became another source of her discomfort. Her bladder filled up and the muscles relaxed. She felt the warm urine between her legs and tears appeared in her eyes out of the humiliating experience. In the dark night, her heart was beating fast, and she kept listening to the sounds and expected some wild animals like wolves or lynxes to find and attack the helpless prey. To her surprise, no animals appeared. Finally, she got exhausted, and her eyes closed. When she awoke, the sun was high above the horizon and the birds started singing again. She had survived the night, but she still was thirsty and hungry, and the back of her dress was soaked by her urine. “HELP!” “HELP!” Her voice was much weaker than the day before, but she suddenly heard steps. A young man approached her, and she experienced another shock when she didn’t know her own name. His clothing was unfamiliar, and she stared at him when he took a small thing from his pocket and talked to it. Later, three men arrived at the place and loaded her onto a gurney. One of them was a doctor and he looked surprised by her condition. They carried her down the path and loaded her into a strange wagon. She never saw anything like it. To her surprise it uttered a growling sound and got moving without any horses or oxen pulling it. The hospital was another big surprise for her. Everything was quite unfamiliar – both equipment and staff clothing. A nurse undressed and cleaned her and put something between her legs; she didn’t recognize the diaper. The nurse put a gown onto her and smiled at her. “Are you thirsty, miss?” she asked. “Yes, please. I’m hungry and thirsty. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since yesterday.” The nurse took a glass, poured water from a bottle and helped her drink, “sorry, we don’t have any food here, but you will get something to eat later,” she explained. A doctor arrived and examined her. “What’s your name, miss? What happened to you?” “Sorry, sir, I don’t know anything. I don’t know who I am or what happened to me,” she sighed and shook her head. He examined her, kept shaking his head and left. Minutes later, the young man entered the room and made a generous offer to her. She felt an unexpected emotion and almost cried when he left. Suddenly she felt the urge to pee, and the urine soaked into the garment between her legs. She realized the purpose of it; that thing protected her clothes and the table she was lying on. The man returned along with the nurse and put her into a strange chair with wheels. That also was a very useful piece of furniture. They wheeled her to another smaller wagon and strapped her to a seat. The man took a key, turned it, and the machine uttered the same growling sound, and they drove off. “Miss,” he started the conversation, “you don’t know your name. Maybe the police will find out your identity, but it is not sure. Would you mind giving you a name? It will be easier to address you.” “Why not? I’m afraid nobody will find my family. I’m getting a bad feeling something is wrong with me. Everything is unfamiliar here,” she recalled the strange machines, clothing and the word ‘police’. She saw the officer, but she only knew army officers. “You might be right, miss. Your clothing also was strange. Nobody wears it here. It looks like you were wearing a historic costume.” “No, this is my everyday dress, Julien,” she realized another mismatch. She instinctively didn’t call him ’sir’. “These dresses belong to history, more than hundred years ago,” he replied, “let’s go back to the name. Do you have any idea about your new name?” “What about Kristen? That sounds nice to me,” she looked at Julien. “Why not? It sounds a bit ancient, but still nice; after all, it matches your dress,” he grinned. “Where are you taking me, Julien?” Kristen asked him the next question. “It is a silly question, Kristen. We are driving home,” he smiled, “maybe we will stop for shopping. You will need more clothes, at least. However, I can’t leave you alone. I will call my sister, and she will help us.” Meanwhile, they arrived at Julien’s house. The house was another shock for Kristen. She started at it wide-eyed, “is this a mansion?” “No, it is my humble house,” Julien took the wheelchair from the trunk and helped her into it and wheeled her inside. “Julien, I am hungry; I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” she looked at him. “I don’t have any delicatesses here, Kristen, but I can give you a piece of bread and cheese. Is it okay?” He wheeled her to the kitchen. “It is great, Julien, thanks.” He opened a strange cabinet and took a piece of cheese from it, cut off a piece of bread and fed her. To her surprise, the cheese was cold. “Thanks, Julien,” she smiled at him. “Excuse me; I have to wash your dress. It is the only piece of clothing you have,” he took the dress from the bag and left. Kristen kept looking around. She recognized several items, but most of them were unfamiliar. “Kristen, I called my sister. She will arrive soon and help you. While waiting for her, we can talk. I suppose you have a lot of questions. I noticed your astonished looks. I don’t believe in magic, but I’m almost sure you belong to another time period. I don’t know how and why you appeared here, but we have to cope with it.” “Wait,” he stopped suddenly, “an idea hit me. I’ll show you some pictures, and you tell me if you find it familiar,” he left and returned with a book and opened it. Kristen’s eyes went wide when she spotted the pictures of old mansions and medieval villages, “yeah, I lived here,” she nodded vigorously. Although she didn’t remember her name, she recognized the world where she lived. “Kristen, this is our world 300 years ago,” Julien explained. “Do you want to say that I’ve skipped 300 years?” she stared at him in utter surprise. “I don’t know how it is possible, but you probably did,” he shrugged, “welcome to future.”

Really interesting and different from anything I have read before. I enjoy your writing style and pacing, thank you for sharing this with us. Every once in a while I find a story that keeps me coming back looking for updates. This one will keep me coming back.

That's a good theory. Novelty probably spurs purchasing - these aren't, I'm guessing, predominantly aimed at people like you and me, who wear diapers for a living, but rather for weekend warriors who indulge here and there and won't be deterred by a $5 per diaper cost. I got interrupted there - I was typing the post you responded to, uncharacteristically, in my kitchen, when my younger daughter walked in behind me and I had to collapse the window. She might know I wear diapers but she doesn't know about this community, and it's probably better that I keep it that way. "Hey, Mom, Dad's on a diaper fetish website..." I have no idea what her response would be to that, and I'd prefer not to find out. Speaking of Rearz products, I was at a bar with a couple of buddies, and I could once again smell my diaper. Normally, when someone speaks of such things, they are talking about off smells, biological ones, but such was not the situation. I spoke before about a carton of Lil' Monster diapers that I opened that seemed more scented than usual, and I think I can confirm that is the case. I've burned through dozens of boxes of Lil' Monster's over my close-to six year experiment, putting myself back in diapers full-time, and I've never noticed the smell of them just wafting up around me while I'm sitting in a bar before. The scent is basically soapy, and inoffensive - only the highly trained would recognize what it was. It was mixed with the baby powder scent of the thus-scented deodorant I anoint all my disposables with, plus actual baby powder. It wasn't an unpleasant milieux, but to me, it said "Nappies", much like the scent of vintage Pampers used to make me self-conscious when I was a kid, because I thought for sure I smelled like a baby. Now, I quite like that scent, but back then, I thought of it as another in a string of clues that would conspire to give away my terrible secret, along with the plastic crinkling that, I felt, echoed off the walls, and the puffiness in my pajamas. The bar was loud - there was a Bills game on - and my buddies were leaning in to tell me this and that, and I hope that they thought it was the smell of my laundry detergent or something. One of the three friends that was there would have known, if he thinks about it at all, that I was wearing a diaper, but I hope that's not the main thing that leaps into his mind whenever we connect. The other two, a buddy and his wife, do not, as far as I know, know anything about my underpants preferences, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Although I am going on a golf trip with both of those guys, so at some point, I suppose, it might come out. Apparently, this time, we are sharing a cottage. I usually get around the issue by becoming "housekeeping guy" - I empty the garbage bins and put the beer cans in the recycling, and while I'm at it, I make three or four diapers per day disappear into the ether. My burn rate goes up a bit when I'm on a trip with buddies, both because we drink a lot, and, because I tend to wear slimmer products, which conceal better under golfing clothes. Except to bed. The harsh lesson of the rented cottage last summer remains with me, my 4 AM cleanup after my diaper leaked while I was sleeping, and how close I came to wearing out my welcome, or even being flat out caught wearing a diaper, as I cleaned a mattress cover and ran laundry until the sun tinted the horizon, tiptoeing around the bedroom doors of sleeping friends and their children. So I'll have to figure out how to sleep in a real diaper, and probably plastic pants. Hopefully I end up sharing a room with my buddy who is in the know. I still won't parade around looking like an overgrown toddler, but at least I won't be panicked about errant visible diaper lines under my nightwear, or strange sounds coming from the bathroom. On a sidenote, which I think I mentioned before, those cottage people have invited me back this summer, so apparently my cleanup was a success.

I hope we hear more from this story soon, it was getting good

My mom and a few cousins know.

Chapter 3 The next morning, both Luke and Lottie didn’t address what had happened the night before. Luke was downstairs unloading the washing machine with a basket full of laundry, including yesterday’s outfit as Archie entered the kitchen. “Alright mate. Don’t forget you are filling in for my five-a-side team later” Archie reminded him. “Oh yeah, of course. 7pm?” Luke asked. “Yep. We’re getting a lift off one of my mates” Archie confirmed. “Listen mate, are you alright? You’ve seemed a bit off the last few days”. “Thanks for asking but I’m fine, just got a lot going on with a module and it’s pretty full on, but I’m okay” Luke replied, hiding what he was really wildly thinking about. “Okay. Let me know if you need to talk mate” Archie said as he left with a glass of squash. Luke returned to his bedroom and tidied away his laundry. He held up the red and grey striped boxers he wore yesterday and began to stir at the thought of the last time he wore them. He picked up his phone and began composing a message to Lottie, but deleted it in a panic. Meanwhile, Lottie stared into space as she sat in the library trying to concentrate. Her psychology book was providing no distraction to her, and instead she was thinking about the night before. She couldn’t believe this was happening and she was waiting to wake up from a dream, but this was real. She knew she had to tread carefully about pushing this further, but clearly Luke shared the same feelings. She pulled out her phone and began writing a text: Could we talk before you and Archie play football later? Lottie xxx She put her phone on the desk and eagerly awaited a response from Luke. Her legs twitched under the table. After a minute or so of waiting her phone vibrated and lit up. Freya and Arch don’t get home until 6, we should have some time then before then. Luke x Luke put his phone back in his pocket as he twiddled his pen in his hand sat at his desk in his room. He didn’t know what was happening, but he wanted more of it. Lottie had ignited something in him and it was driving him crazy. He began to daydream about the thought of wetting himself in front of her again, he knew it was weird and mischievous but that was half the fun of it. A few hours later Lottie shut the door behind her and hung her coat up on a coat hook. She walked into the living room and saw Luke sat on the sofa twiddling his fingers. “Hey. You wanted to talk?” Luke said as he sat up. “Yeah if that’s okay. Can I sit?” Lottie asked as she put her bag down next to the sofa. Luke nodded and she sat down next to him. “Can I say something to you? About what happened last night - I’m glad it did and I really enjoyed it” Lottie opened the conversation. “Yeah… I did too” Luke replied. “Luke I don’t know what to say. Watching you have an accident just turns me on so much. It’s so hot” Lottie admitted. “Lottie I’m so glad you feel that way. I’m ashamed to admit it but I really like the feeling of wetting myself. It’s so weird but it’s like awakened something in me” Luke opened up. “It’s okay it’s not weird, it’s our secret. Can I ask you something else? Do you like I when I tell you what to do? And do you like it when I watch you?” Lottie quizzed him. “Yes, that’s kind of the best bit for me. I’ve never told anyone but I’ve always been on the submissive side and last night was possibly one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. I want to keep doing it” Luke admitted. He felt like crying he was so happy. “Hehe so do I, we’ve just got to be careful yeah? We don’t want the others finding out” Lottie said. “We need to come up with a plan”. “Okay sounds good. When do you want to do it next?” Luke asked. “Hmm I’m not sure let me think, it’s got to be when we have the house to ourselves. How about-“ Lottie was interrupted by the front door opening. “I’ll text you”. “Hey guys!” Freya said as she peeked her head around the living room doorway. They both greeted her. She then entered the room and they began a conversation that lasted a while. Before they knew it the evening had arrived and Luke was getting ready for his football game with Archie. They were picked up by Archie’s friend and the game went well, despite Luke being slightly rusty as he hadn’t played in a while. However, at the forefront of his mind was his conversation with Lottie as he thought about what the next experience would be. “Cheers for stepping in tonight mate, you played really well” Archie said as they both walked into the house. “No worries, I was a bit rusty but managed to survive without giving any goals away!” Luke replied. They then both went their separate ways and Luke hopped into the shower. This gave him some intense flashbacks from the night before and he began to get excited. He couldn’t help it, every time he thought about it he just couldn’t help but get aroused. As he dried off an threw on some pyjamas, he looked at his phone to see he’d got a text from Lottie: Hey Luke :) So about our conversation earlier, I was chatting to Freya earlier and she’s going back home for the weekend tomorrow and I was wondering if you could find out what Archie is up to? Lottie xxx He swiftly replied: You know what me and Archie were chatting after football and as it turns out he’s going to watch football up north this weekend and he’s staying at his friends house over the weekend so he’s out of the picture too! Luke x Lottie nearly cheered with excitement as she read his text. She thought about her next move: Amazing! If it’s okay can I come up with some ideas for fun activities while we have the house to ourselves. I promise i won’t force them into you, but I’ll make sure they are fun for both of us :) Lottie xxx Luke wanted to play cool and instead of fully replying he simply thumbed up the message. He laid on his bed and pulled out his iPad, wanting to distract himself from what lied ahead this weekend but he couldn’t contain his excitement. The final day of the week went by slowly for both of them as they eagerly awaited the departure of their housemates. Lottie was sat at her desk trying to kill time as she heard a knock on her door and Freya entered. “I’m just about to head to the station to catch my train home. Up to anything this weekend?” Freya asked. “Oh not much. Might meet a friend on Saturday” Lottie replied. “Sounds like a chill weekend then. I’ll see you on Monday then!” Freya said as she then left. “Bye!” Lottie waved. ‘One down, one to go’ she said to herself quietly. It was now the evening and Archie and Luke were sat in the living room playing call of duty. “So when are you heading off tomorrow?” Luke asked. “Oh it’s an early one. I never knew how far away Newcastle was! Should be a good game, I hope it’s worth the 5am start!” Archie replied. “And you are staying up there?” Luke quizzed further. “Yeah tomorrow and Sunday night, planning a big night out with the lads up there. Why are you so quizzical, planning on inviting someone around are you?” Archie said as he punched Luke’s arm. “None of your business!” Luke teased. “Alright lover boy. Right I better head to bed got an early alarm set! See you on Monday” Archie said as he put the controller down and retired to his room. Luke soon followed as he turned everything off downstairs and shut his bedroom door behind him. He picked up his phone and knew it was finally time to reply to Lottie: Arch is leaving at 5am tomorrow so when we wake up we’ll have the whole place to ourselves! Luke :) Lottie replied almost instantly: That’s great! Freya has left already so we’re good to go in the morning. You know I said I was coming up with some ideas for this weekend? I have a list of instructions for you if that’s okay: 1 You aren’t allowed to use the toilet this evening 2 Before going to bed please drink a glass full of water 3 When you wake up come down and meet me in the dining room for breakfast at 9am 4 Please wear your blue football shorts and an colourful pair of boxers Trust me, we’re going to have fun this weekend :) Lottie xxx Luke could hardly contain his excitement and he couldn’t believe this was happening. He was so intrigued by what Lottie had planned for them and needed a few minutes to compose himself before replying. He eventually did: That all sounds good. Can’t wait it should be fun. Luke x He saw that Lottie hearted the message and decided to get some sleep. Before he did, he downed his glass of water. It took a while to get to sleep, but once he did he dreamt of all the possibilities that lie ahead of him this weekend.

@JunkyardDog1It's a big deal the first time you change your diaper in public. You feel like others can hear the tapes rip and the diaper crinkle as you remove the wet diaper and put the dry one on. It's important to always have a dry diaper with you because you never know when you will wet and need to change. It was a good idea to change your diaper before meeting the gentleman. A leak will let others know that you are wearing diapers.

Maybe... 😀 Chapter 33 Charlotte sat in her car seat, feeling nothing but mixed feelings in her mind. She didn’t know what to make of her exchange with the girls at the cafeteria today. While Beth and Lisa really didn’t care to talk with Charlotte, Gabrielle seemed very interested once she talked about The Ringmaster Chronicles. But Charlotte didn’t know if Gabrielle was only using the friendship to benefit from getting the book from her. Afterall, she needed the same book to find the fairy that would restore her back to normal. ‘Was today a success or a failure?’ Charlotte just didn’t know. Darcy pensively stared at the rearview mirror, granting her a good gaze of her daughter who was silently sitting in her car seat, staring seemingly into nowhere. It was only a couple of minutes since she pulled out of the elementary school. She already noticed that Charlotte was in a different outfit and she knew what to expect when Charlotte handed her a plastic bag. But that news could wait, as she wanted to hear everything from Charlotte herself. “So how was your day, sweetie?” Darcy said, finally breaking the silence. Charlotte’s face reddened as she attempted to explain what she considered to be the more positive aspects of her day. “I wrote a wonderful story, mommy!” Charlotte gushed. “It was about a girl that solved a mystery ‘cause she somehow got younger and she wanted to get older. And…” Charlotte’s face glowed. “And…At lunch, mommy, I sat next to some girls. I wanted to make friends with them and…” Charlotte sighed. “I tried. One of them wanted to talk to me. Her name is Gabrielle!” Charlotte’s face grew sad again. “But I don’t know if she likes me, mommy…” Darcy sighed as she saw Charlotte’s sad face. It hurt her to see Charlotte not happy. “Well at least you tried, dear.” Darcy said with a smile. “And that Gabrielle sounds like she would be a good friend, honey. Just keep trying. I know that you’ll be good friends with her soon…” Darcy carefully glanced at the white and pink floral T-shirt with the pink elastic jeans. “Honey, I would like to talk about something else. Please don’t get upset with me. Miss Willoughby called me during lunchtime. She told me that you had another accident during the story writing. Now, I’m sure that you don’t like having those accidents in class, dear. So this weekend, I’m going to think of something to solve the problem, okay?” Charlotte nodded, her face red with embarrassment from her mom talking about her accident. ‘I just hope that my mommy doesn’t put me in Pull Ups! I am NOT a baby!’ That night, Charlotte was eating her dinner of mini corn dogs, macaroni and cheese, and green beans. While Charlotte didn’t like green beans, her mother promised her dessert if she could eat them all. Darcy was on her cellphone while Charlotte was eating. “Yes Darlene. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Don’t you think it will be fun for Heather and Allison? Yes. I think that Charlotte will have fun over there too. We’re still working on her *whisper* bladder problem. So you’re worried about her having another accident over there? Yeah. I have plenty of extras so if you are so concerned. So Heather is still having problems with potty training? Then Charlotte should wear so that Heather doesn’t feel left out.” Darcy smiled as she walked out of the room, not wanting Charlotte to hear the rest of the conversation. As for the earlier parts, Charlotte really wasn’t paying attention anyway as she was focusing on consuming her arch nemesis: the green beans. Charlotte sighed as she boldly shoved the green beans into her mouth, chewing on the unsavory vegetables before swallowing. One spoon. Two spoons. Three spoons. After swallowing what seemed like the seventh spoonful, Charlotte delivered the finishing blow. The green menace was gone. Charlotte got up from the table but was quickly distracted by the word search from the newspaper that was sitting nearby toward the end of the table. She tried to find a new word but gave up searching after a couple of minutes. ‘Why are these so hard now?’ Charlotte sighed. ‘They used to be so easy!’ Charlotte towards the living room to where her mother was still on the phone. “M-mom? Mommy?” Darcy glanced at Charlotte and sighed. “Charlotte honey, can it wait? I’m on the phone with your Aunt Darlene! Oh, it’s just Charlotte. It looks like she wants something. She’s probably finished with her dinner.” Charlotte glanced at her mother with a wanting look. “Mommy!” Darcy sighed. “Just a moment, Darlene.” Darcy frowned and glanced at Charlotte. “What do you have to tell me that’s so important that you have to interrupt mommy while she’s on the phone? What is it, dear?” “I finished my green beans!” Charlotte said proudly. “You said that I could have dessert if I could finish them!” Darcy nodded matter of factly. “I did, dear. Let me get you that. I’m almost done talking to your Aunt Darlene, dear. Oh. Yes. Charlotte just finished her green beans! I told her that if she ate her vegetables, she could have dessert. Oh! You’re doing the same thing with Heather? It’s not working? Maybe Charlotte can encourage her. Okay. I’m going to get Charlie her dessert now.” Darcy continued talking with Darlene, while she opened up the cupboard in the kitchen to pull out two Oreo Cookies. She handed them to Charlotte and smiled. “Here you go, honey. Mommy’s going to finish talking to your auntie, okay? Yes. I think that it’s a great idea that you take them to a restaurant! Charlotte hasn’t been to one in a while. I think that it will be fun for her! So I’m guessing that your worried about…” Charlotte could hear the conversation fade out as her mother walked out of the kitchen towards the living room. Charlotte held her two chocolatey prizes in her hands and began devouring them one at a time. Her mouth dug into the Oreo, crunching it up into sweet pieces of chocolate and sweet cream. This resulted in her getting Oreo crumbs all over her lips. And she still had one Oreo left to go. The second Oreo produced the same kind of mess. Charlotte smiled and drank the rest of her milk. Darcy came back into the living room and inspected Charlotte’s face. “Charlotte, you got Oreo all over your face, honey. Here. Let mommy wipe your face off.” Charlotte waited while her mother took a damp washcloth and carefully wiped her lips clean. Darcy then smiled. “How would you like to watch some TV with me tonight with some Swiss Miss?” Charlotte gasped. ‘Swiss Miss?! I LOVE Swiss Miss! Doesn’t mom know that this is a weeknight?’ Charlotte smiled. “Yes mommy! I would love that very much!” Darcy grinned. “Monica told me about how you drank tea with her. But I’m not much of a tea fan, hun. I do love hot chocolate though. Now, I need you to get upstairs and get ready for bed. And mommy will have a nice hot cup of Swiss Miss waiting for you.” “Hot chocolate!” Charlotte shouted as she began to rapidly pace towards the stairs. Charlotte entered the bathroom and sighed when she saw her toothbrush. She once again had to step on her tiptoes just to reach her toothbrush. She was still not used to the toothbrush being almost out of reach. She frustratingly squirted a glob of toothpaste on her toothbrush and began brushing, forming a large amount of foam in her mouth, which began to drip down from her chin into the sink. Charlotte rinsed and finished brushing her teeth. She then went to her room and changed out of her clothes for the day. She opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh Goodnite. She smiled as she held the Goodnite in her hand, seeing Moana smile as if it indicated approval. She stepped into the Goodnite, pulling it up her ankles and thighs until it was snug around her waist and crotch. For a split second, she felt mortified at the very thought of wearing one. Charlotte didn’t know where that thought came from, but she immediately dismissed it. ‘They help me stay dry at night.’ Charlotte reasoned in her mind. ‘It’s one less thing to worry about. I can solve the mystery!’ Charlotte put on a pink nightgown before leaving her bedroom to enjoy her mother’s treat of hot chocolate. Charlotte walked by the bathroom, suddenly realizing that she had to pee. But instead of entering, she remembered the Goodnite that she was wearing. ‘They’re for when I’m in bed.’ Charlotte thought. ‘I’ll be in my mom’s bed so it will be okay.’ Charlotte could already smell the sweet aroma of the hot chocolate before she even entered her mom’s bedroom. It was Swiss Miss. ‘My favorite!’ Charlotte thought as she grinned, already imagining the delicious hot drink in her stomach. Darcy caught a glimpse of Charlotte entering the room and patted a spot on the bed for her to lay down. ‘Surely she used the bathroom.’ Darcy hopefully thought, as she didn’t want to embarrass or discourage her daughter. As Charlotte lunged herself onto the bed in an energetic thrust, Darcy quickly swept her hand over her daughter’s butt without her noticing as a way of checking her since she was uncertain that Charlotte would remember to do this herself. ‘Good. She remembered to put a Goodnite on. I hope that she has a dry night for once.’ Charlotte was already peeing a little bit into her Goodnite as she settled into her mother’s bed, eagerly awaiting the hot chocolate. “Mommy, can I have the hot chocolate?” Charlotte pleaded. Darcy laughed as she saw the innocent enthusiasm in her voice. “Sure sweetie,” she said with a smile as she walked over to the nightstand to fetch the two mugs filled with hot chocolate. “But I need you to sit up as I don’t want you spilling any of this in mommy’s bed. If you do, we are not having hot chocolate again.” Charlotte nodded intently as she was determined to have this fun treat again. Another small stream of pee began to fill her thirsty Goodnite, which quickly drank it up, swelling the Goodnite up just slightly. She could now feel her mother placing the hot mug in her right hand. Charlotte carefully used her left hand to steady the mug, as she didn’t want a single drop of hot chocolate in her mother’s bed. Before she could even sip anything, her mother tapped her on her shoulder. “Sweetie, what do you want to watch tonight?” Darcy asked her. “You only get one show, and then it’s bedtime. What sounds good tonight, dear?” Charlotte smiled. ‘One show? Oh boy!’ For some reason, Charlotte deeply craved My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. “I wanna watch Pinkie Pie!” Charlotte blurted out. “You mean My Little Pony?” Darcy corrected her. “You can pick one episode. Whichever one you want.” Darcy held Charlotte’s mug while she chose an episode. She decided on one of her favorite episodes. Even though it seemed like Darcy has seen this one a dozen times with her, she decided to let her watch it again. Charlotte happily sat up, sipping her mug as she watched all her favorite pony friends go on an adventure around Equestria. It didn’t even take five minutes before her mug was completely empty. Charlotte smiled and licked her lips, tasting the delicious hot chocolate that was now on its way to her stomach. She rolled over, squinting her eyes as she leaned against her mother’s side. Darcy could feel the soft padding of Charlotte’s butt against her side as her daughter continued to shuffle, her butt now pressing a little bit on her stomach. Meanwhile, Charlotte was missing bits and pieces of her show as she began to fall asleep, before waking up a few minutes later. Charlotte didn’t know if it was her imagination, but she felt like her Goodnite was getting wetter and wetter with each time that she woke up. ‘What? How did I just go?’ Charlotte thought in frustration. ‘But they’re for bedtime. I don’t need to worry about going to the bathroom tonight. This is a special night…’ Charlotte then noticed a funny moment of the show, where she felt a warm surprise. ‘Whoa! That kind of tickled. Did I laugh too hard? But it’s okay. I’m wearing a Goodnite.’ Finally, about halfway through the show, Charlotte was fast asleep. “Honey, the show’s over. You need to get into your own bed.” Charlotte woke up, suddenly realizing that she was still laying in her mother’s bed. ‘Aw! I missed the rest of the show!’ She felt the aftertaste of the hot chocolate in her mouth. ‘But the hot chocolate was good.’ As she hyperactively sprang out of bed, she gave her mother a wanting smile. “Mommy, can we please have hot chocolate another night, PLEASE?” Darcy inspected the bed to find no trace of hot chocolate and smiled. “Yes dear. We will do this another night, but it will be a surprise, okay?” Charlotte, satisfied with her mother’s answer, nodded as she began to skip toward the door to exit the bedroom. “Okay mommy! I hope we do it again soon!” As Charlotte skipped down the hallway towards her bedroom, she could feel how heavy her Goodnite has become. It felt like a spongey cushion around her butt and waist. It felt comforting and relaxing. Charlotte suddenly thought of her mystery notebook as she turned out the lights in her bedroom. A faint glow coming from a Rainbow Dash figurine night light lit up the room, giving Charlotte just enough light to see what she was doing. She thrust herself onto the bed and buried herself underneath the covers. She found Bobo and gave him a nice hug. And before she could think about anything else, she was fast asleep. *** “Commander Charlotte? Commander Charlotte?” Charlotte glanced around, noticing herself in a spacious room. The bed she was in was more like a pod. A very plush and comfortable pod filled with a comfortable pillow and a blanket. She glanced outside to see nothing but stars. The door finally opened in an electronic buzz. “Commander Charlotte? This is the third time that I have called you.” A tall figure resembling a teddy bear sighed, looking at his leader with concern. “The mission, Charlotte Spacedasher.” The bear told her. “The mission!” Charlotte nodded, becoming well aware of the situation at hand. “Yes Private First Class Bobo! The mission to solve the mystery of the lost artifact!” Bobo nodded. “Yup. And I’m just as eager to hear everything about the mission. Finn will not shut up about it!” Charlotte frowned. “Finn?” Bobo laughed. “Finn Loner? That had to be a joke, as I know that my commander loves to kid!” Charlotte decided to play along and laughed. “Yes Bobo. I was just testing you with that joke!” Bobo glanced at the spacesuit that Charlotte was wearing. “Let me use my machine to inspect your suit. From the way that I designed it, it’s supposed to be waterproof up to a depth of at least 300 feet.” Bobo waved a portable machine that looked like a TV remote over Charlotte’s spacesuit and nodded. “It still looks good!” “It should be.” Charlotte told him. I just came back from a mission on the planet Milkia and the depth of the milk lake I was in was around 70 feet. We should make another voyage there, but it probably won’t be for quite a while.” The door suddenly buzzed again, and a desperate man entered. He had brown hair with a crazy part in the middle. “You need to like give me all the details, commander!” The man told her. Bobo nodded. “That’s what I have been telling Commander Charlotte, Finn.” Finn then began shaking Charlotte desperately. “You need to give me the information, Commander! I owe 100 Grilled Cheese Sandwiches to the Gentle Intelligent Regal Landian Squad!” Bobo gasped. “Another one with the Landians? Isn’t that your third debt?” Finn nodded with a worried look. “Yeah! Last week, I owed them 100 glasses of chocolate milk! It took forever to get payment from our recent mission on Milkia!” Charlotte nodded. “Well, let’s discuss this over a hot one, okay?” Finn smiled. “Chocolate? Like, if you say so Commander Charlotte!” Charlotte led Finn to the part of the ship that had a table with a mini bar nearby. She poured the glasses full of hot chocolate and talked to Finn. “So you want to know about the mission?” Finn nodded. “Every detail, Commander! We’ll need to make a pit stop so that I can pay back the 100 Grilled Cheese Sandwich debt to G.I.R.L.S.! And remember, Commander. The Century Eagle is MY ship!” Bobo smirked. “Yeah. Your ship that you stole!” Finn shook his head. “Correction! I bought the ship and the owner double-crossed me!” Bobo gave another glance at Charlotte, as if he had some more information to tell her. “Commander Charlotte? I have the latest news. Since you had to retire early to your cabin, I am proud to tell you that we just acquired two new droids! They’re currently recharging and should be ready in the morning.” Charlotte nodded and glanced back at Finn. “Don’t worry about the debt to G.I.R.L.S. The details of the mission have to do with solving a very important mystery. A certain legendary artifact has been lost and it’s worth a fortune. And from what I know, that will get you way more than 100 Grilled Cheese Sandwiches.” The conversation was cut short, as a loud beep from the ship’s warning system went off. “Oh no…” Bobo said with a gasp. “That is a system warning, Commander Charlotte. One of the thrusters has been hit! And judging on the ship’s computer, we are currently over a planet called Oceania. There is no land on this planet. It’s all water.” “No!” Finn shouted. “We’re losing altitude! First, I have to pay 100 Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and now I have to make repairs on this ship?” “Don’t forget your two other debts!” Bobo reminded him. “We have the MONEY for the 100 Chocolate Milks. We made the order, but we haven’t picked it up yet.” Finn made a passive nod, as his focus was diverted to the ship, which was quickly losing altitude. It was entering Oceania’s atmosphere quickly and was descending downward like a meteor. “We can return to Milkia later!” he said in a panic. “Now we’re crashing! Commander Charlotte, what should we do?” Charlotte glanced at Bobo, and then back at Finn. “Try to slow down the ship to minimize impact!” Bobo smiled. “That’s what I would’ve said! I taught my commander well!” Both Bobo and Finn feverishly worked at the control panel, trying to press all the right buttons that would slow down the thrusters of the Century Eagle, which now had its nose pointed directly toward the surface of the endless ocean planet. After they pressed a few more buttons, the ship began to adjust its course, now falling forward, parallel with the water that it was about to make an impact in. The impact of the rough landing sent Charlotte flying through the glass of the Century Eagle, causing her to fall directly into the ocean below. Charlotte clutched her helmet, which was unphased from flying through the glass. Her gloves and the rest of her durable suit all took the impact well and she began to sink down into the ocean like a stone. Charlotte began to take her readings from the tech that Bobo programmed into the suit. “50 feet…” Charlotte read. “So far, so good.” Charlotte’s descent into the salty water continued. 100 feet. 150 feet. 200 feet. 250 feet. Then Charlotte saw the reading and gasped. 300 feet. Her special Space Suit that Bobo made could only handle 300 feet. Charlotte looked at the reading again. 320 feet. That’s when Charlotte began to notice water beginning to enter the helmet of her suit. That water began to flow down her neck, to her chest, down her belly, and finally around her crotch and legs. “The suit…” Charlotte gasped. “It’s not holding!” The water continued to gush into the helmet, flowing in and beginning to flood Charlotte in torrents. Charlotte was now beginning to drown. She gasped for air, hoping that she could survive Oceania and not experience a watery grave. That’s when Charlotte realized when she was not wearing a spacesuit anymore. She was not Commander Charlotte anymore. She was not on Oceania in her spacesuit. She was at home in her room, laying in a sopping wet bed. Her pajamas were soaked, tightly clinging to her skin. Now having awakened to her new reality, Charlotte began to scream. “MOMMY!!!!! MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! MOMMMMEEE????!!!!!! MOMMYHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” As real as the dream felt, Charlotte now clearly knew that she wasn’t in Oceania anymore. She was at home in her room, sitting in a Goodnite that was well beyond its capacity in a sopping wet bed. Charlotte has once again wet the bed.

Chapter 17: The Embarrassing Reality Greg continued to focus on his bladder, working to stop any more spurts of urine from leaking into his diaper. He was successful when he focused, which gave him some small feeling of control. But as the minutes ticked by, he found himself getting bored in the playpen. He went back to coloring, the crayons scratching against the paper as he tried to create something beautiful. Of course, the pacifier was still lodged in his mouth, a constant reminder of his submission to Sam. As he colored, Sam returned with a cut-up lunch of cubes of cheese and fruits. Greg snacked on it, savoring the taste and texture of the food. After lunch, he went back to finishing a coloring page he was very invested in. Sam watched him, a smile spreading across her face as she realized how cute he looked. She was turned on by the sight of him, her mind racing with thoughts of how far she could push him. As Greg colored, he got down on all fours, diaper in the air on full display, the crayons scattered around him. The pacifier was still in his mouth, and he was completely absorbed in his task. Sam was amazed by how much he had taken to returning the pacifier to his mouth himself. She didn't remember when he didn't have it in. She walked over to him, kneeling down beside him, and rubbed his back. Her fingers instinctively went to the corner of his onesie, slipping into the crotch area. Her face jumped in genuine surprise, which quickly migrated to sheer pleasure. "Baby, you are soaked!" she exclaimed, trying not to laugh. Greg's eyes snapped up from the coloring page, his face contorting in absolute mortification. He had been so focused on the crayons that he hadn't even realized he had wet himself again. He focused on his diaper area, and realized it was wet and cooling, and his hands shot down and grabbed his diaper through the front of his onesie to confirm the obvious. he had been in the wet diaper so long before he had learned to ignore it. His mind went frantic as he tried to process what had happened. When had that happened, he wondered? His eyes started welling up with tears, but Sam caught it early this time. She took the pacifier out of his mouth and rubbed it on her loins, the gesture sending shivers down Greg's spine. She pushed the pacifier back into his mouth, which calmed him some, but he still looked like a deer in headlights. He frantically tried to explain, his words jumbled and stammering. "I-I don't know, Sam, it was the potty, I think. I was trying to go, and then I relaxed, and... and... I don't know, it just happened. And then I was coloring, and I forgot, and... and... you got me used to the wet diaper, and I didn't even realize..." He trailed off, his words becoming more and more incoherent. Sam listened to him, a mixture of amusement and arousal on her face. "Baby, the potty made you wet your diaper?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "These excuses are getting worse." Greg realized, with a sinking feeling, that she was right. How was he blaming the potty for making him wet? That didn't make sense. He looked up at Sam, his eyes wide with embarrassment, and knew that he had no defense. She realized he was close to breaking down again, so she tried to nip it in the butt. "Baby, don't worry, accidents happen, and at least you are used to them at this point. I know you wanted that sippy cup back so badly," she said, her voice sweet and soothing. But her words only made Greg feel worse and more frustrated. He didn't care about the damn sippy cup; he just wanted to be treated like an adult again. Yes, he wanted it back over the bottle, but that was beside the point. "But, Sam, I don't understand why I have to go through this," Greg said, his voice shaking slightly. "I'm trying my best, but it's just not working." Sam smiled and said, "I know you are, baby, and that's why we're going to keep trying. Let's get you back on the potty, okay?" This dropped his face, and he realized he didn't have to go again. The thought of being bored on the potty sounded horrible. "No, I don't need it anymore," he said, trying to protest. But Sam just smiled and said, "I know you don't need it because you wet yourself, but we need to train you. I want you to sit there until there is some pee pee." She pinched his cheek, like that made it better, and removed his diaper. Greg was dragged back to the potty, feeling like a defeated child. As he sat on the potty, he saw the familiar reflection in the mirror. He looked like a baby, with his diaper-less bottom and his onesie. He felt a wave of shame wash over him, and his eyes started to well up with tears. Sam left the room, leaving him to his thoughts. He was bored and had nothing to think about but how he had gotten here. From only 2 days ago, never wetting himself, to the accident in his pants, to the bed wetting, losing his training pants, and now not even knowing he had wet his diapers. It was a downward spiral, and he was struggling to come to terms with it. He thought about how he used to be, a confident and capable adult, and how he had been reduced to a diaper-wearing, pacifier-sucking baby. He was trying to will himself to pee, but it wasn't coming. As he sat there, he started to feel anxious and fidgety. He didn't know what to do with himself, and the boredom was starting to get to him. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were clenched into fists. He tried to relax, but it was hard. He started to suck his thumb, a habit he hadn't had since he was a child. The pacifier, which was clipped to his shirt, hung limply from his chest, a reminder of his babyish state. Sam came back in the room and prepared a new bottle. She looked over at him and realized he was sucking his thumb, with the pacifier hanging from his shirt. "Baby, what are you doing? Use your pacifier, what did I tell you?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. Greg was shocked, why was he doing that? He had forgotten about the pacifier and comforted himself automatically, accidentally. He cursed himself, feeling like a failure. "I'm sorry, Sam," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what's wrong with me." Sam smiled and said, "It's okay, baby. You're just relaxing, and that's good. But I think I need to help you remember to use your pacifier... Oh I forgot I have just what you need!" She went to the closet and pulled out large blue padded mittens. Greg tried to shake his head frantically, "No, no, babe, what? I don't need those, I'll use my binky." He cursed himself for calling it the babyish name. Sam said, "I know you will, baby, but this will help you remember," and she attached the gloves to his hands. The mittens were soft and padded, but they felt restrictive and babyish. Greg felt like he was being treated like a toddler, and it was humiliating. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were encased in the blue mittens, and he felt a wave of shame wash over him. Before he could even process it fully and attempt to resist, Sam popped the new bottle in his mouth and said, "Enjoy your bottle, it will all calm you down," and he had to hold it with the new padded gloves, using both hands. The bottle felt strange in his mouth, and the mittens made it hard to grip. He felt like a baby, completely helpless and dependent on Sam. As Sam left the room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and arousal at the sight of Greg on the potty, sucking on his bottle and wearing the mittens. She stood in the hallway, watching him through the open door, and reflected on how far she had pushed him in just a few days. She had never expected him to be crying, begging for training pants, and now he was wetting himself without even realizing it. The thought of him sucking his thumb, and needing the mittens to stop, was almost too much to bear. She felt a surge of excitement and control, knowing that she had taken him to this point. She had never felt so powerful and desirable in her life. She snapped another picture of him, secretly, without him knowing, to savor the memory of this moment. The sight of him, helpless and dependent, was etched in her mind, and she knew she would never forget it. As she stood there, watching him, she felt her nethers light up with arousal. She was in control, and she knew it. She felt like there was nothing she couldn't make him do just by asking him and reminding him of the spanking, and she was the one who would decide when to stop. The thought sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what was to come. She smiled to herself realizing he was fully in submission.

Chapter 35: Throne Room Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess The cleric waddled her way up the ornate stairs, her feet gently comforted against the cold stone steps by the soft, lush red carpet that scaled the entire path up to the Mistress’ Throne room. “Why did we sign up for this? Who’s great idea was it for us to enter this mysterious Spire in the middle of some cursed woods, run by a fucking demonic Queen… and thought we had ANY chance at defeating her…?” Serrill sighed as she carried the weight of her nappy up the steps. “And now, like usual, I have to pick up the fucking slack…” Serrill wished she had never joined this group. Sure, the reward at the end of this quest would be… well, be better than anything she could ever wish for… but there was no way she was going to defeat the Mistress all by herself. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. She knew her own power, she knew the damage she could cause… but the constant belittlement and the jokes and the party reducing her to just the healer of the group… caused her confidence and optimism to wane. Reaching the grand door at the top of the stairs, the familiar feeling rushed back to her. The Mistress clearly designed this Spire like this, making it so they have to climb all these stairs up to each floor, not knowing what danger may lurk on them. Part of the elf admired what the demon had managed. It was brilliantly designed. She just hated that she was the one getting to appreciate the design up close. Gripping both handles of the double doors with both her hands, she pushed with all her might… as the doors gave way, swinging open faster than she had assumed they would, causing her to stumble into a long hallway with one single duplicate door at the end. And before she could turn to look at the doors behind her, they swung shut, sealing her within. “Chandelier… gold trim… fancy rug… really think you’re royalty… don’t you?” Serrill called out to the Mistress, knowing she was probably spying on her, but not expecting an answer. Which caused her to nearly fall back onto her messy backside when a voice called out from the other end of the hallway. “Who says I’m not?” “What, you’re demonic royalty?” scoffed Serrill, as she stood up straight, trying to appear composed. “What if I am?” the Mistress’ voice replied. “Then you’re like any other Queen…” Serrill replied as she began waddling down the hallway towards the opposite end, to confront the Mistress in person. “How so?” “Silver spoon up your arse. Entitled. Think you have power over everyone just because you were born into a certain family…” “No sweetie, I have power because I worked for it.” “Ha… now I can see it… you working in a mill… or on a farm…” “Not all work is physical labour. But no, I worked my way to the top.” “I… wait… what?” “My parents… they despised what they saw in their daughter. The drive, the ambition… the uniqueness…” “And so you create a Spire, kidnap people and have your Lords corrupt them into all manners of fucked up things?” “I bring out the secret desires in people. The… special interests. At least in those that deserve them. In those that don’t… they’re subjected to karma.” “You… are enacting karmic justice?” the cleric scoffed. “Your Paladin friend… did he not deserve his fate?” “I mean… he was a little mean… and pigheaded… and a little up his own arse… but he didn’t deserve that fate!” “What, you think he doesn’t? Now he serves others, like he claimed so many times to do. He will keep my spire clean, along with the other maidservants. Is that not karma?” “Maybe… but it’s still not fair! What about Aurelia? She doesn’t deserve her fate!” “Her fate… was something she desired. Her fate was not karmic justice.” “Wait… so she wanted to be a sex slave for someone?” I asked, confused. “She desired to give up her will, allowing another to take over. She did this way before stepping foot in my Spire, when she signed her pact with her patron.” “Thorne?” Serrill asked, calling out into the air again. “Desire.” “Vico?” “Desire.” “Fuck off… Right, okay… with Isolde I see it’s karmic justice or whatever bullshit you want to call it. But what about Herta?” “Desire.” Serrill stopped, just before the door, taking a deep breath, holding her hands on the golden handles… preparing herself. “...AND WHAT ABOUT ME?” she screamed, throwing the doors open. “Well aren’t you just precious!” the Mistress squealed from her ornate red and gold throne that seemed to fill a good portion of the centre of the throne room. She looked just like her visage, but even more beautiful, her legs crossed as she casually sat back into her throne, sipping on something from a goblet made of what looked like silver. Giant polished marble pillars separated the sides off from the central hall, but as a whole, this ‘Throne Room’ was on par, if not succeeding, the majesty of other throne rooms Serrill had seen. Not that she had seen many, Serrill had only seen a couple in her lifetime, usually at the end of a quest she had completed on behalf of the leader of the realm. The biggest chandelier she had ever seen hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room, illuminating the whole thing. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, each packed full with volumes of varying sizes. And there were two doors, each on either side of the throne, indicating that there was even more to this floor than she initially expected. “I…” Serrill blushed, realising she was now standing face to face with the Mistress of the Spire… and here she was in this ridiculously babyish outfit. “Awww! And looks like you need a change, little one…” “I… I don’t!” Serrill whined back at the demonic Queen. “You don’t?” “No!” “I’m surprised you haven’t even tried taking it off…” “Wait… what?” Serrill said, her mouth open in shock as she quickly realised she had not even considered doing so. Grabbing the pins, she attempted to remove the nappy… but found the pins wouldn’t budge. “Haha… your Nanny really loves to play tricks. There is no removing your nappy, pumpkin. I just wanted to see you try.” “I… SHUT UP!” Serrill snapped back at the demon. “Don’t talk to your Mummy like that…” “I CAN TALK TO YOU HOWE-” The bulb lit up finally in Serrill’s mind. “My… what?” “You think the previous floor was for you? I mean, you’re not wrong, it is entirely for you. But you were never the target for Nanny. Your friend Vico… he was the intended target for her. Even if he hadn’t tried to attack her from behind, she would have turned him into a little toy for you eventually. No… you were intended… for me.” “I… so…” “I’ve been looking for so long. For someone who could be my little one… and over the millenia… I found no one good enough. Then, as I saw you wandering through my forest… I just knew it was you.” “What was me?” “My little baby.” “I… but… what about the floor downstairs?” “It was originally designed for my future baby to spend most of her time, a floor dedicated to her, but until I found such a cutie, it’s… I suppose you could call it a testing ground. A place where the Nanny tests our candidates for the most important role in this Spire… to be my baby. Over the years, Nanny has tested countless candidates. None of them made it, ending up as dolls or toys for my future baby. Some candidates didn’t make it past earlier floors, not even making it to see the Nanny, whilst their groups made it all the way to her… only to be turned into toys like the others. But no one has ever made it past her… except you.” “So what… I’m special?” “Don’t you think so? I saw it straight away…” “BUT I HATE THIS FUCKING STUFF!” “Sweetie, you asked me whether it was karmic justice or desire for you… and we both know you’re a sweet, innocent girl…” “So you’re saying I actually desire this crap?” Serrill snapped back at the Mistress, taking a few steps forward until she was in the middle of the Throne room. “I’m saying that deep down… part of you wants this. Maybe not the baby stuff in particular… but you want to be loved… cared for… protected… and girl, you look fucking adorable in that little outfit of yours… and let’s not ignore that cute padded ass…” Serrill could feel her cheeks burning as she grabbed her staff, preparing herself for a fight. “Sweetie… we both know how this will end. And if you give up now… you won’t get a spanking,” the Mistress warned her. “I will uphold my promise to my friends. I will defeat you, demon!” The Mistress just sighed, adjusting her sitting position as she sat more normally, putting her goblet on the arm of the throne. “Look, you defeat me, you get your friends back. You take control of the tower. You turn them back to normal. Then what? Live on the riches for a while? Continue adventuring? The whole time… unable to find that one thing that your soul is craving… but if you give in… you’ll be my little one forever… and we shall rule together.” Serrill was taken aback by this proposition. She assumed that she would just be another toy of the Mistress’, not a… partner. “But… won’t I be regressed?” “Not all of the time. But yes, a lot of the time you will be just an empty-headed little baby. But you’ll be my little Princess… and you’ll never want for nothing.” “What if… I want my friends to return to normal and be free?” “Sweetie… I would love to do that, if that is what you truly want… but I have an image to uphold,” the Mistress replied, winking at the cleric. “I have to appear as this big scary demon domme to everyone else. I can’t just let them go.” Serrill had an idea. “Then… no… I want my friends to be free. If I have to fight you for it to happen, I will. But… if you do let them go… and stop pestering the townsfolk over at Rosehaven… I…” The Mistress’ face lit up. “Then I… would… be your baby… willingly…” Serrill sighed. “Tempting offer. Very tempting. But… we both know you don’t stand a chance. I know you’re powerful. You have a lot of power hidden beneath that adorable little innocent facade of yours… but is it enough? If I decline your offer, and I beat you… I get you AND your little friends.” “And if I beat you… you get nothing!” The Mistress stood up, adjusted her long black dress, and strode towards the cleric, her eyes locked onto the cleric’s dazzling blue ones, until she was standing directly in front of the trembling girl. “So… I think I’ll take my chances, little elf. But I admire your willingness to sacrifice yourself. It’s a trait I admire,” the Mistress growled, looking down at the elf with a grin on her face. “I… I will have to fight you then…” Serrill said, adjusting her outfit, trying to adjust the nappy cover so it wasn’t pinching. “You’re such a little cutie! I just want to eat you all up…” Serrill quickly thrust her staff forward, preparing her body to cast her most powerful spell… when suddenly the Mistress raised her wrist, causing an unknown force to throw the cleric back a few feet, onto her very padded, very full, backside. “EWWWWWW!” Serrill cried as she felt the mess in her nappy move around again. “Silly girl. You seriously think you can defeat me, Mistress of the Spire? With a messy nappy and a few spells powered by your pathetic deity?” Serrill didn’t know how to respond, she was too busy trying to not be disgusted by the mess in her nappy. The Mistress just looked down at her with a grin on her face. “No… you will succumb to my will, you will worship me, and you will live in bliss as my adorable little one. But… how about we make it a little bit more fair…?” ====================================================== Poor Serrill... can she defeat the Mistress? Or will she be doomed to the nursery for all eternity? 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Once I got my head on in the right direction , the only thing better than having a giant poop just fill yer diaper , was sex , sex , was way better , but I have come to love that feeling of my diaper fill with a big , giant poop that has the total of the inside of my diaper just covered like one just poured a big chocolate cake mix in my diaper , and it just covers every square inch , of the diaper 😁 , but if I could get back to being able to make love to my wife , like we did when we first met , I would just become , potty trained , right then , or at least I would hope so …I can see it now , my dick comes back to life , and just after I cum …I just shit the bed , oh please , help me get that , o..u..t , of my mind , yuck 🤢 that’s soo , not a turn on ! ! !

I need a daddy!

soaked again day 5 without changing my sheets

Not sure on weight wise. But I wet prob 7 or 8 times and I mean wet I was drinking as much as possible and I adjusted my self in the diaper to wet the front all the way to the back to wear I could feel it almost all the way up my but padding. My diaper was leaking at that point so u knew that was full. So I put in a few suppositories to finish the diaper off. All I know was it was super heavy the takes just about failed. It was a nru str8up blue.

After wetting like 3-4 times it was probably 5lbs

BREAKING NEWS ALERT! Stevewet wins the 2024 international Captain Obvious Award!!! 😂😆😁

Incontinence feels wet

The heaviest that I've been able to get them, without leaking is about 7 pounds. That's soaked with a big load of poop in it.

Most of the diapers I wear are tykables with dubbler boosters and after flooding in it like 10 times weighs around 7lbs weighed it on a scale as soon as I changed

It had to be several pounds. I mean, I pushed 3 full loads into it.

Me too on spanked for bed-wetting. But masturbating, don’t think my folks knew.

I was born in the 1940s. It seems that this was rather common practice in those days

Chapter 15: “WHAT?” SHE ASKED. Then I saw her take a sniff, “Oh, is my baby Holly Bear messy and needs a change?” I glared at her, “Yes I have a sh… poop filled diaper. Please get me out of it!” “When I’m done eating and cleaning up,” she told me. “But…” “But you need to get used to being poopy for short periods of time, it’ll just be a few minutes. Besides, smart mommies don’t immediately change a poopy diaper.” “Why?” I cried. “Because… there’s probably more to come.” She took a few more bites of her food as tears streamed from my eyes. The stickiness of the mess combined with the knowledge of having shit all over my skin didn’t sit well with me. As she stood up to start cleaning up, I began to smell it too, and wanted to gag. As she turned on the sink to wash the dishes I felt another cramp. Not knowing what else to do, I lifted my butt off of the seat as much as I was able to, as more sticky mess came out of my butt and into the diaper. I watched through tear filled eyes as she wiped down the tray of the high chair, took the empty bottle and washed it out, and finally came back over to me. “See, we would have wasted a perfectly good diaper changing you right away.” I just sobbed as she picked me up. I felt torn from wanting to hit her and push her away, and just wanting to be comforted and have the icky mess gone. I decided discretion was the better part of valor, and obediently complied with sitting in her arms. Her hand pushed up into my diaper for a moment lightly and she said, “Pee-ew! You really did a number on this one.” In the nursery she put me down on the changing table and strapped me down before getting to work. IVY COULDN’T HELP but both feel a little bad and elated at the same time. Her new baby girl had been clean all the way through yesterday, but had already messed herself several times. ‘I guess my milk finally got through to her system.’ Holly looked so upset sitting there on the table that she decided to try something after she had pushed the pink ‘Mommy’s girl’ onesie up past her chest. ‘Hope she doesn’t go tell me to just go to hell…’ She started poking at her belly lightly with her fingers, “Spots, Spots, Spots, Spots,” she sang a walking bass line in her best calm mommy voice, “Spots, Spots, Spots, Spots,” she was rewarded to see Holly had at least stopped crying as she looked at her like she was crazy. “A leopard has lots of spots, one less spots she’s got,” she began singing a lightly raking her hands down her body, “A tiger’s stripes are always nice, but leopards have lots of spots, spots, spots spots,” she began poking her lightly with her fingers on her belly again, “Spots, spots, spots, spots,” she sang and then added, “Tickle, Tickle, Tickle,” and began tickling Holly mercilessly until she cracked a smile. ‘I think it worked?’ She thought as she went to pull the tapes on the diaper. I LOOKED UP at Ivy completely out of breath after her evil tickle attack. As much as I hated to admit it, it was kind of cute what she had done to me. I was huffing heavily still as she opened my diaper and unfortunately got a good whiff of it. I nearly vomited as she said, “Definitely a stinky girl today,” Ivy said to me. I swallowed and blushed, “Not exactly my fault,” I breathed out. “Nope, you can’t help it, and that’s why it’s my job as your mommy to take care of you now,” she told me. I lay still while she attacked the disgusting mess that was my butt with wipes. With as bad as it had felt I assumed it would take her forever, but she was done pretty quickly. A new diaper was soon taped securely around me and the onesie was snapped around my crotch. “Can please I have pants, or shorts, or something?” I asked her. “Not today sweetie, I want to keep an eye on when you need a change,” she told me while she carried me into the living room to sit down on the couch with me turned around on her lap. “Okay, today we need to talk, before I let you do what you want.” “Can we talk about me not being in diapers?” I asked. “No, that’s not on the table, I’m sorry sweetie. You’re already mostly incontinent from my milk, and that’ll fully set in by the end of this week at the most.” “I could stop drinking…?” I shirked back at the glare she gave me. “Not an option, you agreed last night, correct?” “What about less often?” She shook her head, “You’ll be nursing from me at least after breakfast, dinner, before bed, and before your afternoon nap every day.” “What about when you’re not around me?” “Well at daycare I’ll leave you plenty of milk. If you’re with a sitter they’ll have that available, or they will probably be happy to use their own breasts.” “But…” “Unless you want to go back to the baby food and formula that isn’t up for negotiation.” I glared at her. “This is where you say ‘Yes, Mommy.’” I sighed, “Yes, Mommy.” “Good girl,” she told me and kissed my forehead. “Okay, so rules we need to go over. Number one, you do not mess with your diapers. You can ask me nicely for a change, but I may tell you to wait like I just did. You will not throw a tantrum if that happens. I promise you I will change you as soon as I can.” “Yes, Mommy,” I said as she paused looking for a response. “Second, if I place you in your crib, high chair, playpen, swing, or anywhere else you will stay in there. No climbing out.” I nodded, “Yes, Mommy.” “I know it’s normal for you to begin thinking that maybe you could run away, but remember you look like a baby and you wouldn’t get far based on that alone.” She held up my wrist that still had the LittleProtect watch on, “And this would tell me where you were at all times anyway.” “I couldn’t just take it off?” I wondered aloud. “It’s designed to be impossible to cut. You would have to cut off your hand to slide it off,” she told me honestly. “Even then you have the tracking chip in your butt.” “Okay... I won’t try to run away…” “As far as the law is concerned you are my adopted baby and I’m allowed to discipline you in any way I see fit. I will spank you if you break the rules,” she told me. “Also, you should already remember this, but no swearing at all!” “I’ll do my best.” “The last rule is this one, remember that anytime we are anywhere else you need to behave like a good baby. Here at home if you want to whine and argue that’s one thing, doing it out of the house will result in a much quicker spanking. I will have that inflating, lockable pacifier when we go out, so if you really don’t behave you will be using it.” “Yes, Mommy,” I told her at her glare. Before asking, “So what can I do?” “Well you get to play all day sweetie!” she told me, “Or you can still read. I’ll even let you use your tablet and that dinosaur of a computer still. You can watch TV, but you will have to ask me first.” “Why?” “Well Mommy wants you to stay like this… She doesn’t want you to be regressed more.” “What does TV have to do with that?” “Some of our children’s shows are meant to remove more than just potty training with hypnosis and brainwashing,” she told me honestly. “But you said they’re children’s shows? Don’t they affect bigs too?” “Most don’t watch those shows after they’re about three. Parents know not to let their potty training toddlers and preschoolers watch those shows anymore. Occasionally you do get some teenagers that start watching them… One series, Naomi and Oliver, has a large teen following. Most of those teens end up wearing diapers at least part time too.” I just stared at her, “Willingly?” “I guess,” she shrugged. “It’s also not uncommon though for an unruly teenager or child to be given the little treatment if they’re misbehaving badly enough. I know of a few patients I’ve seen that the courts have even ruled they need to go back and be re-raised.” “Normal, big sized kids?” I asked incredulously. “Yep, but more often inbetweeners - they’re not that much bigger than you all after all. If the caregiver, or the courts, really doesn’t want them to be that big though, they get nanite treatments to shrink them to normal baby sizes.” I just stared at her, ‘What the fuck?!?’ I thought and prayed her censor wouldn’t detect my swearing in my thoughts at least. “You all are crazy,” is what came out of my mouth. She shrugged, “Maybe… Anyway, there’s one other thing you can do, or place you can play and I want to show it to you. I’ve been waiting since you arrived but didn’t want to spoil it until you were little enough.” “What do you mean little enough?” I asked as she stood up and placed me on her hip. “Diapered and in your nursery,” she told me. I had kind of wondered why she still hadn’t shown me the backyard in all this time. There was a backdoor with a window high on it that had a curtain keeping light out from the glass. She opened it for the first time for me. On the other side I could see she had a huge backyard. The first thing I noticed was the huge concrete wall that encircled the large back yard. It was at least fourteen feet tall, and might as well have been the Great Wall of China to me. Not far from the fence sat an elaborate wooden swing set that seemed to take up half the backyard. Some foreign spongy material had been placed to create a soft-landing spot if you fell from it. It featured a rock-climbing wall that led up to one of the two large playhouse platforms, two regular swings and a baby swing, two tall slides, monkey bars, and several ladders and climbing pieces to get around on it. It honestly looked a little bit larger than someone my size should be playing on. I had a feeling with the practice I would no doubt be forced to have, I would probably be able to use it all. “Is that for me?” I asked curiously as she sat me down into the grass she stood on. My naked feet felt the soft blades of grass and I felt like I was going back in time to when I was a kid and ran around without shoes all of the time. “Yes, but you’ll have to be careful since it’s a little too old of a design for you. You are only to be on the monkey bars if I’m there with you.” I looked at it not entirely hating its presence, before noticing the other large backyard feature next to it. A large shed-like building was contained within the spongy material too. It was painted baby pink with white trim, and seemed to have both a smaller door for someone my size, and a larger Amazonian size door around it. A covered porch deck extended from it with an overhang just above the door. A window at the peaked roof was heart shaped. A few plants hung from planters along the rails of the deck. “What’s that?” I asked her. “Let’s go see!” She said excitedly as she reached down for my hand and led me over. ‘Why’s she so excited?’ I wondered. IVY WAS SO excited to finally have Holly see her playhouse! She hoped she would enjoy it as much as she should. She was offering her a type of retreat that no other Big would ever offer to a babied little. In fact, she’d had to make sure that there was plenty of camera coverage inside so no one could ever declare her neglecting her little by leaving her in there alone. It was also possible for her to lock the door to keep her penned safely inside. ‘If I had this given to me when I was a little girl I would have been in Heaven,’ she thought to herself. ‘It’s big enough I would probably have run out here to get away from my parents at least until I was in high school.’ They walked up the big steps onto the porch carefully for Holly’s smaller legs. The deck was made of a synthetic material that was guaranteed to last for fifty years according to the company, so no splinters to worry about with Holly’s bare feet. As they approached the doors she said, “Holly you can just use that door, if I go in, I’ll use mine here. Why don’t you go ahead and use your door and take a look inside?” ‘I can watch on the camera recording later,’ she told herself. Wanting the little girl to realize she really did mean for this to be her space. I STARED AT the first normal sized door to me since I’d left home! It was inset of a gigantic Ivy sized door that was probably around twelve or thirteen feet tall. Mine was only about five feet tall, and I could easily reach the door handle that I turned and pushed open. Inside I was shocked to see I was in a really realistic and cute little house. I looked around in amazement and realized the couch was mine from back home! I excitedly ran over to that wall and plopped down on the couch. It still was a bit larger than me since I’d shrank more, but it was comfortable since it was one of my rare splurges to buy the light-colored gray sofa! It even featured two reclining sections on either side and cup holders. ‘I figured it had been trashed,’ I thought to myself and turned around to see that across from it was my flat screen TV from back home, along with my electronics hooked up. ‘What?!?!’ I thought to myself. I walked over and saw that everything was there with my large old Blu-ray and DVD collections in some white shelves that were built into the walls around the TV. Everything was accessible at my height and I experimentally turned it on and saw that it worked. She even hooked up the game console I bought before I left. I smiled since it had been the latest system. It sat there ready to go with the large collection of games I had bought. Just inside the doorway there was a white dining room table that was not from back home. The table would comfortably sit me, and probably littles and smaller kids under five. It sat next to a brightly colored play kitchen that looked to have my old pots, pans, and spoons sitting next to it. I looked at the burners and could see they were definitely fake. ‘Who would let a baby play with a real stove?’ I admitted to myself. I was surprised when I opened what looked like a fake pink refrigerator that there was a large real mini-fridge inside. It held a couple of baby bottles of juice, another of water, and a sippy cup that I guessed probably had juice too. Another bottle looked to maybe have milk in it, and I blushed. ‘She thinks that I would willingly just go the milk route…?’ I closed the cold refrigerator and looked above the counter of the fake stove and saw an elaborate play microwave. I was surprised when I opened it that it looked like it really worked too. A few feet of countertop extended before coming to a sink that I experimentally turned on and saw water pour in. To my surprise it seemed even the hot water worked! I turned and saw a smaller room was walled off from the main one. Inside I found a play nursery of doll sized furniture, dolls, bottles, fake baby food, and everything else a little girl would need to play ‘mommy’ for her baby dolls. I felt my face flush at the thought that I would want to extend my own treatment to those poor dolls… I quickly walked out of the small room and back into the main area. There was a colorful rug with some bookshelves featuring my own books from back home, as well as what looked like a small preschool’s library of picture books. There were a couple of pink bean bags spread about the little area too. Combined with the different color scheme it felt like it was almost another room. I noticed another door that went to a room on the opposite side from the nursery. I walked over to it and entered and saw a mirrored vanity, a folding changing partition screen, and about fifty different dress up outfits hung on a bar I could reach. I raked my hands through what were mostly princess dresses, but also had some sort of animal costumes like a rabbit and a kitty, a doctors’ lab coat, and even a space suit. The vanity looked to have some combs and hair accessories that I wouldn’t even begin to know how to use. It looked like there was plenty of child's play makeup too. I shook my head and left the room and looked around the walls. They were painted very much like my new nursery, but with pinks and white instead of purple. I was startled when I realized familiar pictures hung on the walls. All of my family photos that had been packed away, or in my ‘old’ room, were now hung along the new living room area. I smiled at the picture of my mom and dad and felt a tear go down my face as I wondered how badly they would think I screwed up. I looked away and realized that in addition to some side sconces, there were two large crystal looking chandeliers hung about the open space. I looked above the entrance and saw that a ladder was placed along one side that led up to another lofted space. I climbed up it and discovered a large mattress with cute bedding laying directly on the floor of the second level, along with a window seat with a view into the yard. I lay down on it curiously and discovered it was quite comfortable. A tall secure railing made it almost like a crib with the walls on the headboard, and the wall on the other long side. I heard the door open so I sat up and climbed back down the ladder. “What is this place?” I asked her. “This is your playhouse. It’s one of the places I’ll let you play without me hovering over you. I figure when you make some friends eventually you can play with them here and you’ll be the coolest girl ever.” She looked at me with a big smile, “It’s also nice because it has air conditioning and heating, so you can play here in the winter or summer comfortably.” “Why?” I asked nervously. She knelt down then and I realized that it was probably the size of a big ‘she-shed’ type building, but converted to the playhouse design for me. “Look… I know I’m taking a lot away from you. I’m not going to lie to you there. I’m making you take a step back in life that you didn’t want to make. Most parents would just let you have a small playset, keep you inside playing with the fake kitchen, and everything else in one room…” She paused, “I am going to baby you in just about every other sense of the word, but I want you to have a space of your own for your own well-being.” “I can come out here whenever I want?” I asked. “You need to ask me for permission, and I may say no. If I do you will not back talk,” she told me. I nodded, “Can I nap out here sometimes?” “Not right now, maybe down the road,” she told me. “And at some point, I want you to introduce me to the movies you had packed with you. I hope I hooked everything together right.” My eyes caught the photo of my parents again and I found myself doing something unusual then, I walked up to her and wrapped my arms around her, “Thank you Mommy,” I told her. IVY HELD HOLLY tightly in the hug for several moments and tried to hide the tears in her eyes. ‘After everything from the last twenty-four hours, having Holly willingly give me a hug and call me Mommy is the best feeling in the world,’ Ivy thought to herself. “Why don’t you play and explore more in here, and on the playset until lunch,” she suggested to Holly. “Okay,” Holly said with a genuine smile on her face. Ivy walked back out of the door and into the house where she pulled her tablet from its normal home and turned on the camera monitoring app. Holly was going through every little nook and corner of the room and she saw the smiles when she would find something else from her old home. She had seen this idea on a web forum for adoptive parents a month before they had connected, and thought it would be amazing to give her more of her things. The bedroom set she had been using for the first couple weeks would now be disappearing to the dump most likely. She had better furnishings in her nursery and no need for a big girl’s bed anymore! She smiled as the fridge was opened up and after staring for several moments, before to her surprise she grabbed the bottle of juice and carried it to the couch. Seeing that Holly was fine and settling into her new place in the world she decided to go ahead and get a few things done around the house. She cleaned up the kitchen and began a load of laundry before starting the oven to make some chicken nuggets and fries for lunch. She only put a few nuggets in the oven for Holly, and a handful of fries, with the rest being for her. Given she would be nursing Holly afterwards before her nap she wanted to make sure she was still hungry then. ‘Going to be a delicate balance,’ she thought to herself. When lunch was just about done, she looked back at the monitors and saw Holly had moved from the playhouse out to the playground and was experimentally climbing up the rock wall. The sight kind of made her heart stop with worry, but the little girl managed to make it up the wall with no problems and used the slide to get down. Ivy watched her then climb into the lowest child’s swing and began swinging back and forth gently. A look at the timer told her it was time to get her inside. “ARE YOU HAVING fun?” Ivy asked me as she strode towards me. I shrugged, “I guess. I don’t really remember the last time I was little enough to be playing on a playground. I know it was at the end of elementary school, but that was a long time ago…” “You won’t have to worry about outgrowing this set,” she told me with a smile. I shrugged, “Guess not.” “Lunch is ready,” she told me. I nodded and followed her inside the house. As she picked me up to go into the high chair she said, “Someone is a soggy princess, huh?” I blushed at the intrusion of her hand but nodded, “Yes.” “We’ll change you after lunch,” she told me as she finished strapping me into the high chair and brought the tray over. A smaller than normal amount of food was placed on the plate. Only three nuggets and a small to me number of fries made me look at her suspiciously, “Why only this much?” “You’ll have the rest of your lunch after we have this,” she told me. I blushed, “What if I’m still hungry?” “You won’t be after I nurse you.” I sighed and enjoyed that at least she was letting me have this much. ‘The baby food last night was a warning shot, but I can’t help but notice there’s still a few jars sitting out on the counter…’ Three chicken nuggets and the number of fries she gave me did not last long, particularly with the amount of energy I had expended exploring my new playhouse earlier. My plate was quickly cleared and I quickly drained the half-filled bottle of juice that she had placed on the high chair tray. I found myself daydreaming of ways that I might convince Ivy to let me grow up, but nothing seemed remotely doable. ‘I’m sure that she was telling me the truth on not being able to get away from the tracking devices.’ Finally, after a while of being bored Ivy put her last fry in her mouth and stood up. “Let’s get you changed and ready for your nap,” she told me as she unbuckled me. “Do I have to take a nap?” I asked. “I guess I should have mentioned that rule, but you’ve been taking them so I didn’t?” The warning look made me say, “Yes Mommy, sorry…” She squeezed me to let me know she wasn’t mad and carried me to the changing table. “What a soggy little girl!” she told me with a smile as she pulled my onesie back up and away from my diaper. I remembered earlier and wondered if she was going to do another babyish song again. My question was answered quickly as she grabbed both of my feet in her hands and began singing and moving them. “Lift one foot, and then the other,” while she lifted them back and forth, “Lift one foot, and then the other. Lift one foot, and then the other - lift them both together,” she sang as she lifted my legs up. She suddenly grabbed my arms next, “Lift one arm, and then the other,” and kept singing until she sang, “Lift them both together!” With my arms away from my belly she suddenly took the opportunity to tickle my bare belly mercilessly. “Stop,” I giggled out uncontrollably. Simultaneously I felt myself pee more into the already soaked diaper. She kissed me on the forehead and undid the tapes on my diaper. She lifted my legs again and I felt the cold wipes being used. I squirmed a bit because it still didn’t feel comfortable having someone touch me down there. “Such a squirmy baby today,” she told me, apparently thinking the same. I sighed, still trying to get my breathing under control from the tickle attack. ‘She’s probably just trying to get the rest out of me since she doesn’t believe I have any control left…’ I sighed in my own head, ‘I don’t have much, that’s for certain.’ Luckily for me with it just being a wet diaper, the change went quickly and I was soon snapped back into the onesie. I was unbuckled and she carried me to the rocking chair, “Ready for the rest of your lunch?” she asked me. I shrugged, “I guess,” I sighed. She looked concerned but just pulled her shirt opening down, unlatched her nursing bra flap and presented me with the dripping nipple. I stared at the nipple for a long moment. Several weeks ago, I would probably have gotten horny while thinking about this, but instead the nipple just stood out and existed. I sighed as I leaned forward and put my mouth around her warm skin and nursed. If there was one thing that I didn’t mind about this, it was that there was something comforting about her body temperature. The milk came into my mouth with each suckle and I was soon on autopilot. ‘I wish this tasted nasty,’ I thought while admitting I probably was getting addicted to the stuff. IVY HAD ROCKED Holly to sleep twenty minutes ago, but just couldn’t bring herself to put her down yet. Deciding she’d rather be able to watch her she placed her down in the playpen in the living room. There were a few toys spread about the playpen for her if she woke up before she noticed. Just as she was finished cleaning up after pumping a little bit more her phone rang, “Hi Mom,” she said as she looked at the caller identification. “Hi Ivy, how is it going? You texted that you put her back into diapers yesterday?” “Let me move to my office,” she told her in a whisper. When she was done, she answered, “Yep, my little Holly is all snug in her diapers and no more chances left for her to wear big girl panties.” “How exciting!” her mom squealed. “Is her diet normal now too?” “Well, I’m still feeding her table food, but I’m also nursing her equally,” she added. “Research shows it’s a good combination.” “How’d she take realizing she’d been drinking your milk…?” “She’s smarter than you’d expect, she knew it before I forced her to nurse from me yesterday…” she proceeded to fill her mom in on the events of the last couple weeks. She’d agreed to not visit until Holly was a bit more settled, but that time seemed to be past. “So how about dinner tonight?” she suggested to Ivy. “Tonight?” She asked in surprise. “I don’t have anything in the house to cook for you all to come over?” “We’ll go out to eat?” She pleaded. “Please? You finally gave me a grandbaby and I’ve not had a chance to spoil her yet.” “How are you going to spoil her at dinner?” She asked. “I have presents of course!” She sighed, “I guess it’s time for her to see you all again.” After they made arrangements she got off of the phone and hoped that she was right about Holly being ready to go out in her new status as a genuine babied little. ‘I’d better triple check that her diaper bag is all packed. Probably should grab the sling too in case Mom decides shopping is in order too. I hope she likes being held with it… not that she’ll have a choice,’ she sighed with relief at the knowledge that she didn’t have to tiptoe around the truth anymore. She knew that Holly was smart and had figured out the game moves before she sprung the trap, but it was like any relationship - she believed in taking things slow. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Down the rabbit hole poor Holly goes! 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I agree. I was born in 1974, and as a pre-teen disposable diapers were just becoming widely available. My mother diapered me in cloth diapers for bed until I was about 11 or so- then I went through a stage where I was merely flooding the bed for a couple of years (and it was flooding because my mother had a real rubber sheet just under the top sheet that although it was a urine barrier, spread the pee out over the entire area of the sheet. I can remember some mornings where my extra long twin bed had a pee circle from my knees to my pillow the width of the entire mattress-It was during this time period that I earned the nickname "Floater", started by my older brother). By the time I was starting high school, I was wetting the bed less but decided to go pack to diapers-this time disposables with tabs-and rubber pants just to avoid the mess.