Leaderboard

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.

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.

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.

Part 1: Julian Meyer was walking slowly towards the Mitterstein ruins. The ruins were remnants of the castle that towered above the town. Unfortunately, the castle burnt down long ago, and half collapsed walls was everything that was preserved. Julian was an IT expert; he worked at home mostly. If he needed relaxation, he always hiked through the surrounding forests; the ruins were his favorite place; he got a strange feeling every time he sat down there and looked around. He usually spent an hour or two there and kept thinking of their history. What could have happened in the past? Mitterstein castle was enveloped by rumors about magic and wizardry, but Julian didn’t believe in those rumors at all; his mind was strictly controlled by rules and mathematic formulas. That was the probable reason for his single status. His younger sister Helga had married long ago and had her own family already. She often teased him about his attitude. “Julian, do you know anything else besides math, forest and old ruins?” she asked him regularly, “did you ever think of a relationship? Would you like to stay single forever?” “Why not, Helga?” was his usual answer, “I don’t need anything else. A relationship would distract me from my work though.” “At least, you would have your house tidied up and better food than fast food and pizza. Find a nice girl and your life will improve a lot.” Julian just remembered Helga’s words while he was climbing the narrow path to the ruins. He kept looking around and listening to the leaves rustle and birds’ singing. “It is like heaven,” he thought; however, he suddenly noticed a sound that didn’t match the scenery. To his utter surprise, he heard a human voice. When he came closer, he recognized a female voice calling for help. “Who could be there? I’ve never met anyone in the ruins,” he told himself and sped up. As he reached the ruins, he stopped dead in his tracks. A young woman was lying near the basement stairwell. She was about 25, short and slender. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes were deep blue. However, her clothing was strange; it looked like a medieval theatre costume. “What happened, miss?” Julien walked over to her. “I don’t know, sir. All of sudden, I found myself here.” “My name is Julien, miss,” Julien was taken aback by calling him ‘sir’, “can I ask who you are?” “Sorry, sir. I don’t know,” her voice sounded desperate. “What? You don’t know who you are? You don’t know your name. How is it possible? Did you lose your memory?” “I’m afraid I did,” she sighed. “Okay, let’s go to the town. Maybe somebody will recognize you, miss. Give me your hand, I help you stand up.” “No, I can’t, sir. I can’t move at all,” tears appeared in her eyes. “How so? Are you hurt?” Julien squatted down and watched her closely, but he didn’t see any sign of an injury, “what happened to you?” “I don’t know, sir. Yesterday, I found myself here and I can’t move at all. If you haven’t found me, I would die.” “Well, I have to call the emergency service then,” Julien pulled out his phone and dialed 911. Half an hour later, two paramedics with a gurney, and a doctor arrived at the place. “I don’t understand it,” the doctor shook his head, “she is paralyzed but not hurt, almost as if she was hit by polio, but a memory loss doesn’t match it. We will transport her to the hospital.” The doctor and paramedics loaded the woman onto the gurney and carried her down the path; Julien followed them. He also asked to join them in the ambulance, but they refused; he followed them in his car. After all, they didn’t have to hurry up and use the horn and beacons. --- “Mr. Meyer, do you know anything else about her?” a police officer asked him. The hospital staff called the police to find out her identity, and an officer arrived at the emergency station. “No, officer, I don’t know anything. I regularly go to the ruins, and today, she plainly appeared there.” “Gentlemen, I have good and bad news,” the doctor emerged from the examining room,” she is not hurt at all, but she is paralyzed; she can’t move her arms and legs, but she still can breathe. Otherwise, she would be dead.” “Well, we will initiate an investigation to find out her identity. Maybe we will find her family. We will check the list of missing persons,” the officer interjected. “Yeah. She needs somebody to take care of her,” the doctor sighed, “there is no reason to keep her here, but we can’t release her plainly. She even doesn’t know who she is or where she lives. She also doesn’t have any documents and insurance.” “What happens if you don’t find out her identity?” Julien got curious. “She will be placed in a hospice probably and live there,” the doctor shrugged, “but I don’t know who will pay for it. Maybe a caritative institution could admit her.” Julien kept listening; he remembered the moment he found her. How did she get to the place? The next mystery was her clothing. She looked as if she belonged to another world, but she didn’t remember anything. Suddenly, he felt a strong emotion. The poor woman got lost and couldn’t live alone. What if he asked her to stay with him; at least until her family was found? Something unexpected appeared in his mind besides math formulas and nature. Nevertheless, the woman was a part of nature though. “Officer, can she stay with me, let’s say as a visit? When her family will be found, they can take care of her then,” Julien turned to the police officer. “Why not?” the officer shrugged, “she seems to be adult and can decide upon it.” “Go and ask her, but you will have to take care of a paralyzed person as if you took care of a baby,” the doctor opened a door, and Julien entered the room. The woman was dressed in a plain hospital gown; her clothes were sitting on the nearby chair. Julien also noticed an adult diaper between her legs and remembered the smell when he squatted down to her, “Miss, the doctor said there was no reason to keep you here, but you can’t be released plainly. Would you mind if you stayed with me until your family or relatives were found? I live alone.” “Oh, sir, you are generous, but will you be able to take care of me? I can’t do anything on my own,” she looked at him and more tears appeared in her eyes. “I will learn it; you won’t need any medical care though. I work at home and can be with you,” Julien instinctively walked over to her and wiped the tears away. Her answer was a smile. “Okay then. I will stay with you,” she nodded slightly. She could move her head a little. “I will tell the doctor and arrange everything necessary,” Julien turned back and returned to the hall. “I’m a bit surprised,” the doctor said, “but she probably doesn’t have any option left. To be honest, the hospice is not a good place to live; it looks like a grave antechamber. I’m also surprised by your decision. Did you ever take care of a child?” Julien nodded; he remembered his early childhood and the little Helga; she was younger by four years, and little Julien helped their mom often. He fed her from the baby bottle and even changed her diapers a few times. During his study, he focused on the math formulas and, if he needed it, he relaxed in forests and old ruins. The old memories almost faded out, but they still were kept deep in his mind. “If you think so, we can arrange it. We can lend you a wheelchair and recommend a caritative institution to ask for support; they could provide you with necessary advice and even some money; it will be cheaper than taking care of her directly.” The doctor called a nurse, and she brought a wheelchair, two spare diapers and a bag. Julien lifted the woman from the hospital bed and sat her to the wheelchair; she was small, tender and light. He strapped her down and wheeled her to his car. The nurse packed her dress and spare diapers into a paper bag and passed it to him. Juline lifted the woman and sat her to the passenger seat and fastened her safety belt tightly so she couldn’t slide down. The nurse showed him how to fold the wheelchair and put it into car trunk. “Thanks, nurse,” Julien smiled at her, got into the driver seat, started the engine and drove off.

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Turn Greg and Sam had been married for five years, and their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Their relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and a deep emotional connection. They had always been adventurous in the bedroom, exploring each other's desires and fantasies. But lately, Greg had been feeling a growing urge to surrender to Sam's dominance, He couldn't quite explain it, but the thought of being controlled and guided by his wife sent shivers down his spine. Sam had noticed this on a few occasions in the bedroom and realized the excitement it brought for her. She wanted to push this dynamic further, the thought of it bringing intense arousal. One night as they made love, Greg found himself trying to nudge Sam's head down, hinting that he wanted her to give him oral pleasure. But Sam had other plans. She gently kissed him, her lips brushing against his, and then pushed him down, her hands firm but gentle on his shoulders. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized she was taking charge. He complied, his body responding to her touch as he sank down onto the bed. Sam stood on her knees, towering over Greg as he positioned himself on all fours. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with anticipation, and Greg could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam's eyes locked onto his, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. Without a word, Sam directed Greg's head to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, offering them to him like a gift. Greg's lips closed around her nipple, and he began to suckle, feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over him. Sam's hands guided his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him in place. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the moment. As they lingered there, Sam's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the curve of Greg's spine. She pushed him down, her touch gentle but insistent, until his face was inches from her vagina. Greg's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she wanted. He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation, but his desire for her overrode any doubts. Sam's eyes never left his as she began to thrust against him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Greg's tongue danced across her skin, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. He was lost in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her. Time seemed to slow down, and all that existed was the two of them, lost in this intimate dance. As they moved together, Sam's voice whispered in his ear, "Stick your fingers inside me, Greg. Taste me." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he complied, his fingers sliding into her warmth. The sensation was electrifying, and he felt himself becoming even more aroused. But Sam wasn't done yet. She took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, and guided his thumb into her. Greg felt a jolt of surprise, but before he could react, Sam locked eyes with him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The sensation was shocking, yet strangely erotic. Greg's mind reeled as he sucked his own thumb, the taste of Sam's arousal mingling with his own. As Greg's thumb slid into his mouth, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But despite his initial hesitation, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins. He was turned on, and he knew it. Sam seemed to sense his conflicted emotions, and she smiled to herself as she kept his thumb in place. She gently laid him down on his back, her hands guiding him onto the softness of the bed. Greg felt himself sinking into the mattress, his body relaxed and open to her touch. As he lay there, Sam straddled his face, her thighs spreading wide as she positioned herself above him. She began to gyrate, her hips moving in a slow, sensual circle as she rubbed herself against the back of his hand while he sucked his thumb. He mound forcing it into his mouth while he tasted her juice. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the rhythm of her movements. Sam's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with a fierce intensity as she watched him. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he gazed up at her. She knew he was turned on, and she was determined to take him to the edge. As she moved above him, Sam reached down and wrapped her fingers around Greg's cock. She stroked him gently, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Let go and come for me." Greg felt himself building towards a climax, his body tensing as he strained towards release. And then, in a burst of sensation, he exploded, his semen spilling out onto his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. Sam smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come. She leaned forward, her body pressing down onto his as she wrapped her arms around him. Greg felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, and he let himself relax into her touch. As they lay there, Greg realized that he was still sucking his thumb, the digit still lodged in his mouth. He felt a surge of embarrassment, and he quickly pulled it out, his face flushing with heat. Sam noticed his reaction, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Greg felt himself blush even deeper, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew he was in this now, and he was excited to see where it would lead. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Greg couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He felt more vulnerable, more open, and more connected to Sam than he had in a long time. And as he looked up at her, he knew that he was ready to explore this new dynamic, to see where it would take them and what secrets they would uncover along the way. Chapter 2: A Night of Reckoning As the days went by, Greg and Sam had repeated the scenario that had started with his thumb a few times, but they had also fallen back into their routine. It was as if they had dipped their toes into a new world, but then retreated back to the comfort of their familiar dynamic. However, the memory of that first night lingered, and Greg couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. One night, as they lay in bed after a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine, Greg found himself spooning with Sam, his head resting on her chest. She was looking down at him, her eyes gazing at his peaceful expression. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light on their skin. As they lay there, Greg started to nudge his head into Sam's breasts, his lips brushing against her shirt. She smiled to herself, recognizing the subtle cue. She began to tease him, moving her breasts slightly, just out of reach, and then pulling him in closer. The game was on, and Greg's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the sensation. Sam's hands gently pulled her shirt down, exposing her breasts to Greg's eager lips. He latched onto one, sucking gently, and Sam felt a surge of pleasure. She transferred him to the other breast, and as he sucked, she felt his hand moving, his fingers brushing against her skin. She guided his hand down, her fingers intertwining with his, until they reached her vagina. Greg's fingers slid inside her, and Sam felt a wave of excitement. She was already wet, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. As he fingered her, she began to move her hips, her body responding to his touch. The sensation built, and soon she was coming, her body trembling with pleasure. As she came down from her climax, Sam realized that Greg was hard, his erection pressing against her leg. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of dominance wash over her. She was in control, and he was responding to her every move. With a gentle touch, Sam took Greg's thumb and ran it through her juices, the sticky liquid coating his skin. She then slowly nudged his hand near her breasts, her eyes locked onto his. Greg pretended not to notice, but Sam knew he was aware of her intent. She kept nudging his hand, her touch insistent, until he finally looked up at her with sad eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Sam's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt a deep connection to Greg. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and kissed his forehead. With a gentle but firm touch, she pushed his thumb into his mouth. Greg's eyes widened, and he started sucking, his lips closing around his thumb. Sam whispered into his ear, "Good boy...such a good boy." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. As he sucked his thumb, Sam reached down and touched his cock through his boxer shorts. The touch was electrifying, and Greg felt himself coming, his semen spilling out into his pants. The sensation was intense, and he was taken aback by the sudden release. Sam was surprised, too, as it had never happened before. Greg's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment as he looked up at her. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth, his eyes downcast. Sam's voice was soothing and mocking at the same time, "Oopsie, so excited you had a little accident! What a good boy you are for me, but someone might need a little protection next time, don't worry, I'll take care of you baby." Greg didn't quite understand what she meant, but he felt a sense of reassurance wash over him. As they lay there, Greg's eyelids began to droop, his body relaxing into sleep. As he fell asleep. Sam slid his hand that was on the pillow back towards his mouth, and in his sleepiness he accepted it, his thumb slipping back into his lips. He fell asleep, his body trusting and vulnerable. Sam looked at him, her heart full of love and affection. She realized how much she loved this new dynamic, this sense of dominance and control. She thought about how she would need to buy some items for him, to help him feel more comfortable and secure in his new role. As she gazed at Greg, she knew that their relationship was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would bring them even closer together. Chapter 3: Morning After Greg woke up to an empty bed, his thumb still lodged in his mouth. As he slowly came to, the events of the previous night flooded back to him. He quickly removed his thumb, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relaxation. He had slept better than he remembered, but the memory of his actions made his face flush with heat. As he sat up, he noticed the dampness between his legs and the slight cold wetness on the bed underneath his crotch, from his "accident" the night before. His embarrassment deepened, and he couldn't help but think about Sam's statement from the night before - "someone might need a little protection next time." He wondered why she had said that, especially since they hadn't used condoms since before they were married. Greg quickly got out of bed and headed to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering feelings of embarrassment. As he stood under the warm water, he couldn't shake off the thought of Sam's words and the way she had looked at him. He felt like he was losing himself in this new dynamic, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After his shower, Greg made his way to the kitchen, where he found Sam already preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. As he entered the kitchen, Sam turned around with a bright smile, holding up a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I made your favorite breakfast." Greg's eyes widened as he took in the spread before him. "Wow, you didn't have to go to all that trouble," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam chuckled and handed him a glass of milk. "I know what my baby likes," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "And I want to make him happy." Greg's face flushed as he took the glass, noticing that Sam had made herself a more adult breakfast - scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. "You're not having pancakes?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from himself. Sam smiled and sat down across from him. "No, I think I'll stick to something a bit more... substantial," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, I know what my baby really likes, and it's not just pancakes." He could tell she was insinuating about the night before. As they ate, Sam couldn't help but tease Greg about his sleepiness. "You were so cute when you were sleeping," she cooed, her voice dripping with affection. "I loved watching you. And I have to say, I was a bit surprised by your... little accident." Greg's face turned bright red as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Shh, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to change the subject. But Sam just laughed and reached out to run her thumb across the table over his lips. "It's okay, baby," she said. "It's nice to see you relaxing in new ways." Greg stared at her quizzically wondering why she was doing this? He could see the joy in her eyes. Sam looked at him and mocked putting her thumb in her mouth with fake sucking noise from her pursed lips, and a pouty face, and batted her eyes. Then laughed and winked at him. "You're learning to let go baby, and that's all that matters." Greg felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to change the subject again, but in his embarrassed haste, he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk, spilling it all over his lap. Sam rushed over to clean up the mess, laughing and reassuring him that it was okay. "Accidents keep happening, don't they?" she said with a wink. "Maybe you're not ready for a big boy cup yet." Greg's face was on fire as he sat there, his pants stained with milk. He felt like a child, and Sam's words only made him feel more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he muttered, trying to apologize. But Sam just smiled and patted his hand. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "I'll figure it out. I'll help you get back into dry pants." Her phrasing made him blush for some reason. As they finished their breakfast, Greg couldn't help but think about how different Sam had been treating him lately. She was more playful, more affectionate, and more... dominant. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this new dynamic, but a part of him was excited to see where it would lead. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was thinking about how to push her plan to the next level, how to help Greg surrender to his desires and become the submissive partner she knew he could be. And as she looked at him, she smiled to herself, knowing that she had already made significant progress. The question was, how far would he be willing to go? Chapter 4: Surrender A few days had passed since Sam had received the mysterious packages, and Greg had no idea what was in store for him. That night, as they sat on the couch watching the fire, Sam was wearing a luxurious silk bathrobe, while Greg was dressed in a pair of childish pajamas that seemed to foreshadow the events that were about to unfold. They had shared a couple of glasses of wine, and the conversation had slowed down, with Greg eventually laying his head down on Sam's lap. As the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Sam's lap washed over him, Greg felt his eyelids growing heavy. But Sam had other plans. She slowly began to work his hand towards his mouth, her fingers gently guiding his. Greg resisted at first, knowing what she was trying to do, but Sam was insistent. She rubbed his crotch through his pajamas, the touch waking him up with arousal. "Come on, baby," she whispered, her voice trying to stay calm but loaded with desire. "Just relax. It's okay." Greg tried to hold strong, but a part of him wanted to give in. He was torn between his desire to surrender and his fear of what this meant for their relationship. As he looked up at Sam, he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew he was no match for her. Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt himself weakening. Sam's fingers were like a gentle vice, guiding his hand towards his mouth. He shook his head, trying to resist, but Sam just nodded hers, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "Everything will be alright. Just trust me." With a sob, Greg gave in, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, as if he had finally surrendered to a desire he had been fighting for so long. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "You're so good, baby," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you." As Greg sucked his thumb, Sam maneuvered his head into her crotch, her silk bathrobe parting to reveal her nakedness. Greg's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing any panties, and his face burned with embarrassment. Sam's pushed off the couch so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her hands guided his head, pushing him into her extremely wet crotch, her pussy pressing against the back of his hand. For minutes, Greg sucked his thumb, his body frozen in a mix of shame and desire. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "Do you want to taste it, good boy?" she asked, her voice husky with desire. Greg looked up at her, his eyes sad and tear-filled. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Sam's fingers guided his thumb into her vagina, pulling it out and letting him suck again. She repeated this process several times, each time pushing Greg further into his submission. Finally, she let him eat her out, his mouth sucking away at her pussy as she came in a huge orgasm. Greg's face was buried in her crotch, she returned his thumb to his mouth as, as he felt her body shudder with pleasure. When she was done, Sam leaned back, her chest heaving with exertion. "Are you ready for yours, baby?" she asked, her voice seemed to gain new excitement. Greg looked up at her, his eyes still sad, but he nodded. Sam smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. Sam sounding like a child on Christmas morning said, "I bought something for you! I've noticed how you've been deciding to relax, I think this will help you." She pulled out a large white pacifier, an exact replica of a babies binky but bigger, from her pocket, and Greg's eyes widened in shock. "No, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to reject it. But Sam just shook her head and made an "Ssh" sign over her mouth. He looked in awe as she moved the binky down between her legs and pressed the pacifier into her pussy coating it with her juices. She quickly forced it in Greg's mouth. He tried to resist with his lips, but she persisted and cooed, "Be my good boy for me baby. Make me happy seeing you relax." Greg didn't know what to do and finally accepted it with a pouty look. He immediately started sucking the same as his thumb he was now used to. his face red and mind reeling with embarrassment and shame, the familiar taste of her juices calmed him. Sam led him to the bedroom, stripping him down as they went. "My baby seems more excited than ever," she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement. Greg was ready for intercourse, but instead, Sam went to the closet and pulled out a pair of childish underpants with designs on them. He couldn't believe there was more to this. When had she bought these things? How long had she been planning this? Greg's embarrassment had never been higher, and he felt like he was going to cry looking at the garmet. "I don't want any accidents, baby," Sam said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to wear these to protect yourself." "No sam, this is too much" he tried to say from behind the pacifier, weakly attempting to stand. She pushed him back down, readjusting the pacifier and said. "Please baby, you need this, just enjoy yourself." He could tell from her voice how much she wanted him to follow through... he laid back consenting. She couldn't believe it, her heart raced with the realization that he would allow this. Greg's face burned with shame as Sam pulled the underwear up, the fabric feeling different, more padded than normal underwear. He had a new shock realizing that these were like the potty training underwear kids wear, designed for people who can't make it to a toilet. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Sam rubbed his crotch, her fingers sending shivers down his spine. "You're such a good boy," she cooed. "I'm so proud of you." It only took seconds for Greg to come in his pants, the sensation of the underwear and Sam's touch sending him over the edge. Sam praised him, her voice whispering words of encouragement as she laid with him, holding him close. Greg feeling extremely tired now, moved to pull out the pacifier. Sam brushed his hand away and spooned with him, she moved her hand up to the binky gently holding it in place. Greg glanced at her realizing he wanted him to keep it in. He was too tired to think through her intentions or put up any fight and his eyelids drooped. As Greg fell asleep, the pacifier still in his mouth, rhythmically sucking, Sam thought about how amazing this felt. She had never felt so in control, so dominant. And as she looked at Greg, she knew that she could go further, push him even deeper into his submission. The question was, how far would he be willing to go?

Backstory there is a scientist character that uses diapers to save on time. In this episode the girls switch bodies. Then she says she has to pee but its fine because she is wearing a diaper. Only to be corrected that she is no longer wearing a diaper. Episode 13

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)

Today, for some reason, I remembered this story. It was updated very regularly last year, but then this stopped. Can we expect more updates in the future? I really liked this one.

Yeah it’s a good story !

Me too

Well happy birthday! One year is quite an effort. My experience aligns with yours insofar as developments happen way more slowly than is generally advertised but stuff *does* happen. Getting used to peeing anywhere/everywhere is a pretty important step and it sounds like you're making it. For me (and a few others that compared notes together with me), the first real symptom of emerging dependency was actually bedwetting. If you're never holding your bladder and are therefore a bit wet most of the time, it can be hard to spot at first. I *think* it first happened several months into my journey but I was a super-experienced DL to begin with and was perfectly accustomed to peeing in bed so I probably had a head start on you. At first it was about waking up in nappies wetter than I could recall making them. It was pretty rare to begin with but in fits and starts, became more common. Lately, I wet the bed most nights and wouldn't dare go to bed without a nappy. Good luck!

I can't wait to read more of this, but I understand the process takes time

Loved this story !!!

I’m so glad that I’m an adult baby cause I get to poop in my diapers and keep doing what I need to do.

This reads like one of the really old school stories, where the Mum just goes totally off the deep end and winds up behaving with cruelty and disdain that would in a real world environment get them hauled over the coals by whatever local child protection agencies exist.

Chapter 36: A 'Fair' Fight Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess “What do you mean… ‘more fair’?” Serrill asked, looking at the Mistress with suspicion. “I mean… it won’t be said I’m not nice to you… Don’t go thinking that anyone else would get this treatment…” “Well, aren't I special…” Serrill replied, rolling her eyes. “So what… you’ll… go easy on me?” “Oh dear… don’t be silly. I want a challenge. You’ve impressed me, something that others have not managed to do in my long, long existence. Plus you’re cute. So… you’ll get a do-over.” “A ‘do-over’? What the hell do you mean?” “I mean… this!” The Mistress snapped her fingers, when suddenly an invisible force, one similar to the one that knocked the elf down onto her padded butt, enveloped her target, lifting the elf back up onto her feet. But that wasn’t all, the elf suddenly felt… lighter… as her babyish dress and thick padding began to transform into the familiar blue robes she started this quest in. Her pigtails loosened, allowing her blonde hair to flow down her shoulders once again. The nappy cleaned itself, then began transforming into her familiar underwear. And the babyish urges she had been feeling for a while now… were fading, as if the curse was… …being removed. “I… you’re un-cursing me?” Serrill said, furrowing her brow at the Mistress, feeling completely regenerated. “Not really. I’m just starting you over from square one.” “Huh?” “Here are the terms. I’ve given you an advantage for now… I’ve returned you back to normal, but the curse remains. However…” “However?” “However, for every spell you use against me… the more you regress, returning all the familiar babyish accompaniments you once had.” “So the longer the fight goes on…” “The harder it will be for you to continue, until you’re a babbling mess, just waiting for Mummy to pick her up and love her,” the demon Mistress grinned. Serrill knew this was probably rigged from the start. No doubt the Mistress had some tricks up her sleeve that she’d employ to prevent the cleric from winning her fight. But… this was the best she was going to get, the only blessing she’s received during this whole cursed quest. Maybe it’ll be the Mistress’ downfall… “I accept then.” “I thought you’d say that. But remember… everything that you cast, no matter how small…” Without hesitation, Serrill hurled a fireball directly at the Mistress, not wanting to give that demon a second to react. She wasn’t going to waste this opportunity… “Wha… where yoo go?” Serrill said, looking around for a body, but finding nothing. “Eeeek!” She quickly realised what that spell cost her… and she quickly regretted her action. “No… I dun wanna sound like…” “A baby?” the Mistress growled in the cleric’s ear. Spinning around, Serrill looked at the Mistress, who had suddenly appeared behind her… and she didn’t look even the slightest bit exhausted! But Serrill felt the loss of power as soon as the fireball left her hands, leaving her with less magic… and apparently… less adult words. “No fair!” Serrill whined, sounding like the baby she desperately didn’t want to end up as. “D’awww, sweetie… you think I wouldn’t fight back?” “Stay stiww!” the elf cried out as she sent rays of scorching fire out towards the Mistress. But without effort, the Mistress spun on the spot, dancing around the beam of fire, as if she was just… playing. “I… how?” Serrill said, dumbfounded by her inability to even hit the Mistress, let alone do enough damage to kill her. “Sweetie… you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat your Mummy…” the Mistress teased the frustrated girl. That’s when Serrill realised she had used another spell… so she frantically looked around her body, trying to find something that was different. “I… can’t… nuffin is…” As she looked up, the Mistress pointed at the top of both sides of her head, indicating to the girl where the difference may be… “NO! NO PIGGIETAIL! NOOOO!” Serrill stomped her feet, acting more and more childish, to match her speech and hair. In frustration, without thinking, the cleric threw out another spell, this time a bolt of light that quickly soared towards its target… “Ah ah ah…” The Mistress vanished in an instant, dodging the bolt, allowing it to crash against the wall and dissipate. Appearing behind the exhausted cleric once again, she tapped the girl on the shoulder to tease her. Serrill spun around, appearing with a dummy that was filling her mouth. “HMPH!” “D’awww… aren’t you just a widdle cutie!” the Mistress replied, booping the dummy, pushing the girl back a couple of steps in the process. “ARRRRGH!” Serrill roared, taking a page from Vico’s playbook, as she thrust her hands outwards, towards the Mistress. Flames erupted from them in an arc, scorching the wall behind where the Mistress once stood. “JUS STAY STIWL!” There was a squeal of pain from behind her. “You… actually got me then, little one…” the Mistress growled, with a slight bit of annoyance in her voice. Serrill felt hopeful upon hearing that for once… she hadn’t missed. But as she turned and saw that she had only lightly scorched the Mistress’ arm… Serrill’s hope quickly faded. “I…” And just as Serrill was about to say something, her underwear ballooned out, and the familiar soft pillow between her legs indicated that she had been demoted back to nappies… again. This was a feeling she didn’t miss… mostly. “I… NO FAIR!” “Keep at it and you’ll be filling those…” the Mistress teased, grinning at her prey. “But for hurting me… I’m going to stop going easy on you…” With no warning, the Mistress thrust her own arms out, causing the force she had used to push the cleric back earlier to collide with the elf once again… though this time with a lot more force. Crashing into the scorched wall, Serrill had the wind knocked out of her as she began struggling to breathe, collapsing to the ground. There was no way she could fight like this, she could barely breathe, let alone focus to cast another offensive spell. “I won’t kill you… but I also won’t go easy on you, sweetie.” “I… I…” Knowing she had to do something… Serrill risked it, quickly waving her hand over her chest, using her magic to heal the damage done by the Mistress’ attack. And as she felt the soothing magic revitalising her injured body… she also felt a soothing warmth spreading around her lower region. ‘I… uhh… oh gods… that feels… uh….’ Serrill thought to herself as she flooded her nappy, causing it to sag under her robes. “...Uh… worth… it…” she said to herself, taking a deep breath, climbing back to her feet. “Fine. See if you can get past… these…” Throwing out her hands in a spiralling motion, little wisp-like creatures made of divine light appeared, orbiting the cleric. “Spirit Guardians? Oh sweetie… you’ll have to do better than that…” the Mistress laughed, before snapping her fingers once again. The little divine wisps began floating their way towards the Mistress… encircling her outstretched hand, as if she was in control of them. And as they spun… and spun… and spun… their forms began changing. “Wha are yoo doins to dem?” Serrill cried out, sounding even more infantile. “These will look perfect in your nursery…” Little strings appeared out of nowhere, attaching themselves to each of the little spirits, all connected to a hook… that the Mistress was now holding onto. And as the wisp’s rotation began slowing down, Serrill saw that they had been transformed into little glowing stars… and that they were now part of a mobile, one that you’d see hanging above… a baby’s crib. “Nooooo!” Serrill whined as her clothes began transforming, taking her by surprise, rapidly morphing back into the familiar blue babyish dress with matching ruffled nappy cover. Stamping her little padded boots on the throne room floor, Serrill was realising she was running out of spells… and if she runs out… her fate is sealed. So she had to make these remaining few count. The Mistress wasn’t invulnerable, she can be injured… So Serrill just had to figure out what she can use against her that will work… “Give up yet?” the Mistress teased her plaything. “Or do you want…” Before Serrill could act, the world around her vanished. But then reappeared in an instant, as she realised that she had been moved… “I think you need this, you’ve been a naughty little girl after all… not giving up… not listening to Mummy…” “HUH?” Serrill quickly looked back to see she was resting with her stomach on the Mistress’ lap, as her ‘Mummy’ sat upon her enormous throne, with the cleric’s padded backside sticking up into the air, her legs and arms dangling. “Now, this is going to hurt you more than it hurts me…” the Mistress giggled, before swinging her palm down, connecting it with the cleric’s padded bum. You’d think the padding would have somewhat cushioned the blow… especially given how thick it is… but this was wishful thinking on behalf of the cleric. No, this hit her ass as if there was no padding at all, causing the poor cleric to yelp in pain, tears streaming down her face after only one blow. Then came another. And another. And another. And as the Mistress continued spanking the poor, infantile elf… the girl just kept sobbing and sobbing, hoping this punishment would stop soon. After about twenty blows to her backside, the Mistress stopped, patting the distraught girl on the back. “There there, sweet girl. You’re done now. You were so good for me. You did such a good job!” ‘Is… she… praising me…?’ Serrill thought to herself, as tears continued falling down her cheeks, dropping onto the ground near the Mistress’ feet. “I can take away most of the pain… if you want, sweetpea…” “I…” “But it’ll cost you a spell…” “I…” Serrill knew there was no fighting after this. She’d barely be able to walk after the spanking she had just received, let alone continue fighting this demon. She needed to sacrifice a bit more to have a fighting chance. “...please…” “Good girl…” Those two words swirled around the elf’s head, making her feel… weirdly good? “Abbababbabb… eeeeeek!” Serrill quickly covered her mouth as she realised what had been taken from her after surrendering a spell. “Bababbb… abbabbba… abbbba… pffft!” And as she babbled, the Mistress stroked the cleric’s hair, before sitting the girl up and setting her on her feet once again. Once she knew she was steady enough, the Mistress joined her on her feet, and walked over to the opposite side of the throne room whilst the elf babbled to herself, Serrill desperately trying to get any adult words out. “BABBABB!” “You’re so cute, little Princess. Now… you’re nearly complete. So why don’t you come at me once again?” the Mistress goaded the cleric, hoping she would act rashly once again. But the cleric, despite having no adult words, still had her mind… though she wasn’t sure for how long. And she had fucked up enough to get to this point. No, she needed to figure this out. She needed to figure out this demon’s weakness. She had an idea… but she’d be taking a pretty big risk if she pulls it off… There was nothing else she could do. Serrill had to try this, it was the only thing left. She could risk it by not empowering herself… but she couldn’t take that risk, she’d have to risk the consequences of using her last remaining magic… So as she looked at the Mistress, despair in her heart, she closed her eyes… and prayed. She prayed to her gods. She prayed for help from the divinity… for her one last attempt. And as she opened her eyes, she felt her prayers answered as a new power surged within her… so she cast a quick blessing on herself, ensuring that if the Mistress didn’t somehow manage to dodge this spell… that she’d be obliterated instantly. Serrill knew that this would use up the last of her magic, causing her to potentially be regressed too far… but if she took out the Mistress at the same time… maybe the curse would be nullified and… well… it’s the best the cleric could hope for. The blessing caused the cleric to fall to the floor, landing on her padded backside once again. ‘Clearly there goes my walking ability… good job I don’t need it for… this…’ she thought to herself as she closed her eyes once again. With all her power, and with a little help from her god… Serrill concentrated all her magic into one large fiery sphere, one large enough to obliterate anything in its path… and with the size of this thing… it would be impossible to dodge. Never before had she conjured something this large… or destructive. She put every ounce of herself into this fiery magical sphere… before thrusting it forward… targeting the Mistress. And as the orb flew through the throne room, engulfing everything it passed through, reducing it all to cinders… the cleric felt the last of her adulthood fade into one last big push… Into the back of her nappy… ====================================================== Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuun! Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

I've been wet and messy for almost two days gone through 5 diapers in those two days all of them had a huge load including the one I am currently doing dypee rubbies to make dypee cummies in right now

Chapter 19: It's not easy to erase your blood. April 30th, 2023, San Luis Obispo, California - Earth It was the first time an employee ever invited Oliver to visit her at her home. He was not sure that was a thing that people still did. Oliver had grown up on a diet of Nick at Nite, enough to know that people used to do this. An unforgettable luncheon. He just hoped it was not coq au vin or steamed hams. He had been running a bit late for this, and was still dressed in his business attire, white shirt, and blue suit jacket. A bit overdressed for a casual affair. His trip to the other dimension today had been enough to pick up more of the hypertension medicine Grace liked. The tweener cashier spent the whole time suppressing a giggle when he went to check out. He could not wait for Grace to get back and do these trips for him. It was not that it was scary, he just did not like walking that much through a supermarket. Why their dimension had not yet invented self-checkout did not make sense to him. Didn’t they have robots? It would be easy to set up holographic cameras and have the whole process be automated, like an Amazon store. The A-to-Z store, not the ten-foot-tall people kind. He pushed the doorbell and waited, occasionally looking inside the window. He could see a woman approach and look at him out the window, and then run off. She could have opened the door, let him in, but she did not. He waited for thirty seconds, about to push the doorbell again, when Grace finally opened it, little Thomas in her arms. “Come in!” Grace seemed considerably older since Oliver had seen her last. He had seen women with chests this large, oblong, and heavy, but not in America and not in person. It triggered a memory of something tribal, like in a documentary out of Africa. Oliver stepped up into the house and noticed it immediately. He and Grace were now the same height. Had he lost a couple inches traveling back from the other dimension? That was possible, but that was why they added a tenth variable to the travel coordinates, to account for plank length differences between dimensions. He tried to smile and handed her the tube awkwardly. “This is Thomas. Say hello!” He stared directly into the boy's green eyes, that smiling cooing face, and he felt it. Those piercing eyes digging deep into his own. He was back in the hospital, almost fifteen years ago. The first time was just to teach him their language. They moved the blocks in his head, rearranged things, put the lessons directly into his brain. Every day was pain, and slowly they also taught him how to block the attacks. Twelve months of radiation treatment and surgery for his body and something else for his mind. Thomas had tried the same attack vector, and Oliver had slapped it back like a child going for a hot stove or pulling on hair. The tiny one dug deeper into his mom's chest, as if scared or hurt. Oliver tried to just wave, but the experience was unnerving. “He's still shy around new people, and about to go down again while we eat. Come in, Howard has a roast he's putting on the table.” She turned down the hall and raised her voice, “Everyone! Time for dinner!” Everyone meant Charles. Charles would gather the other two and bring them to the dining room table. Howard had gone all out, both in planning the seating of the children, and in setting the table. The nice dishes and silverware had been placed out, though just for the three with an adult mind. Booster chairs had been brought out for Mira and Edward, and brightly covered plastic trays for the three who were still young at heart. The childish colors of lime, teal, and orange matched well with the spring themed table covers and serving trays. Oliver was aware Howard was going to cook, but the precision and attention to detail here had been achieved by an analytical mind devoted solely to the management of the household. Oliver spent his days lost in spreadsheets and lookup tables, and for Howard his mind was on which tablecloth would best emphasize the mood and feel of the late spring dish. Howard had prepared a feast, the center of which was a beef roast, but also baked Brussels sprouts in a butter sauce, asparagus, and finger potatoes. The meal began with a salad of grapes, feta, and strawberries, with only the adults getting the cheese and lettuce. A covered dessert was even hinted at, a mixture of marshmallows combined with apples, pineapple, and peanuts. Despite bringing out three wine glasses, there was no alcohol. Oliver had only a small bit of water in the wine glass, and a large tumbler filled with milk. Like a Rockwell painting there were three generations of 'Finnigans' sitting at a large spread, an idealistic piece of Americana. Except, Oliver kept glancing at the oldest couple at the table. Mira, Charles, and Edward had been dressed up for the dinner, with buttoned shirts and blouses, shorts for the boys, combed hair, and shaved face for Charles. However, adult their outward appearance, the three ate with plastic neon silverware gripped tightly in the palms of their hands and drank from sippy cups. Howard had taken the time to cut each of the younger ones' food while Oliver and Grace ate their salad, and the meal dragged on. Oliver ran out of water early. He was not opposed to drinking the white substance, it was more that it was presented without comment or request. This household drinks milk and as a guest he would be expected too as well. Oliver brought the tumbler up to his mouth, it smelled different. Not neutral, but not bad. Out of a desire for comity and politeness, he took a sip. It had a thinness compared to previous milk but carried a creamy texture like melted ice cream. The sweetness was like a fruit, not sharp, but like a melon or the bottom of a cereal bowl. His brain formed a disconnect, it looked like milk, and it tasted almost like milk. He had had this taste before but could not place it. His mind strained to remember, but at the same time he felt calm. Not tired or sleepy, but like he had drunk whatever the opposite of a Red Bull was. Less alert, and less in the moment, or perhaps more open, even worldly, or cosmically attuned. Oliver did not watch his manners, and quickly emptied the tumbler, with a large gulp, attracting the eyes of the table. “Is this raw milk? Howard, you really went all out. This is incredible.” Howard chuckled, “Yeah, it's unpasteurized. Straight from the source. 'Moo'.” “And you just work from home now? Are you still with, um...” Oliver's mind was jumping a bit, they had done extensive backgrounds on Grace when she was hired, but the details were a bit fuzzy. He regretted not reviewing this before coming here, and promised himself the next time an employee invited him over he would be ready. “No, no I'm a full-time dad. I do some consulting on the side. Just something fun, helping people quit smoking and a few other things.” Oliver nodded, “Oh, right, yeah, there's that new nicotine craze with the zoomers. Grace you're not on anything weird, are you?” Nearly everyone under thirty in a high-performance job was dosing. He had even caught an intern vomiting the other day, which led to an awkward conversation with HR on employee substance abuse. The entire anti-drug apparatus was not designed to fight an abuse problem like this, and he ordered them to redesign essential training materials and screening. The young adults of this generation had grown up on performance enhancing drugs, often given to them by parents and teachers as children, and they did not know how to sit still or focus for eight or ten hours without medicating. The young ones probably did not know what normal thinking felt like, or its benefits. Grace hesitated before answering, “I'm not on nicotine.” She quickly took up another bite to her mouth to avoid continuing the conversation. Oliver was getting looser, he aimed his fork at Edward “Listen to your parents, don't take up smoking.” He turned back to Howard, “just a touchy subject for me, sorry. You're doing good work, both here and with getting people to quit.” Howard's thoughts turned to his old employer; Adderall had been the drug of choice for many programmers when he was there. If the next generation was now going to nicotine, well that is a much more addictive drug, with harsh side effects, and as they grow older, they might try to get the substance in other forms than pills. He wondered how many of them had regrets, and what they might be willing to do to stop using it. His old colleagues did not need a drug to be brilliant. They just needed space to clear their minds, always give themselves a sound night's sleep, and maybe focus their anxiety and worries on some other fixation. That would be the nice way to solve it. Maybe he had to go the other way. If they were looking for any edge at all, imagine how much more time to stay focused they would have if they stopped needing to get up for routine breaks. He would send out some e-mails tomorrow. “Is there more milk?” Oliver asked sheepishly, trying not to burp the question. “I'm fine with water if not.” Howard left and returned with a full glass. Grace grew a wicked look to Oliver then went back to the table. Oliver kept turning his head at her confused, as she started rubbing her fingers in anticipation. Howard returned, and with more speed than the first drink, Oliver downed the second. He did not hide the fact he was gulping it. The drink was refreshing despite its sweet creaminess. It was like the first sip of ice-cold water from a cooler after a couple of hours of intense outdoor activity. Oliver stared at his fingers for a second as they moved in and out of focus. The lights danced a bit. Grace knew he was ready, but she still needed to test him. “Oliver, Howard here is a big history buff for the Terran War. Was there ever anything more, maybe not shared with the documentary or the historians? Just a private secret you only share among friends.” His mind's zipper should have been stuck closed. It was personal. It was hidden. It was embarrassing, in a way that he did not want his friends to be thought of. Grace bringing up his old friends did not make him feel better, they were coming up on the fifteenth anniversary. “I didn't tell the documentary people this, but Collins wasn't fit to fly. Some genetic condition that manifested in early adulthood, never found out what. Ben and I ran some shenanigans during his final physical, and Doctor Blake did his examination instead of the normal physician. You see, Blake was like a hundred years old, and if you told me he served in the First World War, I'd believe it. Collins explained away the shakes as some pre-combat jitters, and Blake signed off him flying. I think he gave him a Vicodin, and probably would have given him codeine if he asked for it.” Oliver grew afraid of his own mouth; he was not supposed to ever tell anyone that. Something was wrong. At least he did not say what the shenanigans were. Howard's eyes traveled from Oliver and back to his wife, his arms locked for a second. The table was silent. Grace broke the peace, “Hmm, perfect. One more, who do you like better, me or Naomi?” “Naomi.” Oh wait! Salvage this, Oliver. “Naomi has a decade more experience and knows how I like to do things. Plus, she doesn't disappear for two months of the year to...” Oliver tried biting his tongue. He was super not supposed to say that to an employee. He shifted topics, “I gave you full marks on your performance review.” There, something nice. Wait, he was not supposed to say he finished her review before the actual review. Oliver tried again, “Look, you're still young, and when Naomi decides to start her own family someday, you'll have a leg up on her and everyone else. When your peers are changing diapers, Thomas might be in college, and you can put all your energy into your job. That's like a superpower! Speaking of babies, how many more are you planning to have?” He also was not supposed to ask that question. His palm went up to his forehead and he smacked it hard, scrunching his face in embarrassment. Grace gently reached out with her hand and touched Oliver's shoulder, “It's fine, I suspected it might also be a truth serum after a fashion. It seems to at least to have loosened your tongue.” She turned slightly, “Howard go get Charlie's picture I want to show Oliver something.” Oliver could handle Grace regressing her parents, it was her parents’ decision to turn themselves into babies, and they seemed happier now. Even the Woody Allen thing she had going with her former dad, he had been to dozen different Earths, this was not the weirdest thing he had seen. But poisoning your boss? Was she trying to get fired? This was not how you did science. If she wanted to test a new truth serum, there were lab conditions they could have used instead. “Grace, this is unprofessional, and I may have to take back some of the positive things I planned for the review.” There, he was now the boss again and in control. “What was in that milk?” “It's breast milk.” Oliver wanted to vomit, but instead he licked a bit more of the delicious ambrosia that remained around his lips. He shook his head again in confusion. Howard brought the picture and held it up for the table to see. Oliver had no idea what he was looking at. The picture with its absence of clear-cut dimensions or perspective was not helping his stomach. Grace started her prepared presentation, “So, here's the thing. There are ten thousand genes in the human body that affect intelligence. Each one only affects a small amount and most of those are for brain development in the womb. Not much work has gone into this, for obvious reasons, but if you could find a way to turn those genes on in normal humans, you could take barely functioning individuals and turn them into geniuses capable of any cognitive task.” Oliver was immediately bored and highly intolerant, “Genetic engineering is banned on the council worlds, but that sounds right.” - Get to the part for why you poisoned me with breast milk Grace. “OK, let me try again. This picture was painted by my dad this week. Here is what he drew three years ago after his maturosis manifested.” Grace fiddled with her phone a bit. Oliver had heard that term, it was all over the magazines in the diaper dimension. Had Grace picked up some disease and brought it across the barriers? That should be impossible, and she should have informed I.E.D.R if there was a contamination breech. She showed the phone of her grandfather drawing simple stick people. He looked old, gray hair, barely any control over the markers he was using, and some color had even gotten on himself. The picture looked barely better than some of Edward's pictures. Howard took this as an opportunity to get Mira and Charles out of their seats and help them bring their dishes to the kitchen. Oliver was still unconvinced of some miracle discovery. “I think I need to give better context here. Edward, come over here.” Edward struggled a bit to push out his chair, but got far enough out, hopped to the floor, and walked over to his mother. She picked him up and brought him onto her knee between herself and the table. She then grabbed a napkin and found a loose pen on her person and started to draw. She made a simple box. She marked one vertical side twenty-nine and along the horizontal another twenty-nine. She ended her picture with a small right-angle symbol in the inner corner. “Edward, what shape is this?” “SQUARE!” Not quadrilateral, rhombus, rectangle, nor parallelogram. He knew his shapes. Edward was smart for a two-year-old. “And how big is this square?” Grace asked her son, as though the question was as easy as two plus two. Edward leaned forward and put his thumb on the square and then held it up for everyone to see, “This big!” Oliver shook his head, this was fun, but he could not see where this was going. “Honey, each side of this square is twenty-nine feet. The size of a square is the sides multiplied by each other. So, twenty-nine times twenty-nine.” “Oh, that's why it's called squares. 'Cause it's a square of that size.” That was cute. Wasn't there a thing to turbocharge education in toddlers these days? Like Anki? Flashcards? At some point Grace or Howard must have had him memorize the first few squares just for fun. Three times three (three plus three plus three). Four times Four (four plus four plus four plus four). Still, connecting the abstract of a memorization game to what it represented in geometry was an enormous leap. Grace was still disappointed, and she chastised her son. “Stop stalling honey, I know you can do it.” Edward looked up at his mother. He looked at his returning father whose face had turned white. Howard had stopped himself mid return to dinner, with his hand gripping the back of his chair. He was unsure how Grace had discovered the secret. He nodded toward Edward to give permission, and the boy went to work, fingers in the air as he spoke aloud. “'Twenty-Nine times Twenty Nines' is 'Thirty Minus One' times 'Thirty Minus one'. Which is thirty times thirty, or nine hundred. Minus thirty times one times two, which is sixty, plus one times one which is one.” He had the back three fingers of his hand up, marking each one with his other hand. “Nine hundred” on his pinkie. Then pointing to the ring finger, “minus sixty.” Finally, the middle finger, “plus one.” “Eight - Four - Ones. Hundreds. Foots. Feets.” The baby genius forgot to say feet square. Oliver blinked, mouth dropped, but unable to comment. The two-year-old didn't just multiply the two numbers together, he changed it to polynomial so he could calculate the answer faster with less memorization. Oliver finally found his voice, and addressed the boy, “That was incredible, did your mom and dad teach you that?” “Nope! Grandpa Charlie. He's a great teacher.” Grace shook her hand palm flat to the ground, just above and behind her son so only Oliver could see her response. Her face scrunched a bit to that answer, like it had tasted rancid. Just do not ask Grandpa to talk about Chernobyl, he would get distracted and go on an hour lecture. Howard found his composure, “Grace, I was going to tell you, but I thought you wanted to raise them a bit free form. How long have you known?” “Howard, I wouldn't be much of a mother if I didn't notice my son could do the morning sudoku. Though finding out it was dad and not your doing is a disappointment. I assumed you were.” she pointed to her throat and jiggled a finger. “No, never” he turned his head aside, but that was a lie. Time for honesty, “Just the important stuff, but not algebra. I just assumed he picked it up from Mickey's Clubhouse.” The point of the TV was so daddy could go do other things, and his son would be distracted, not for daddy to engage with the content. He had no idea what happened in his son's favorite shows. There was a magic question mark, maybe? She left her response to just a 'Hmm', and a glare. There was not a correct answer there, but there were plenty of wrong ones. Grace had picked up some habits from her mom. Howard would need to explain himself later. Oliver reached behind his chair and grabbed into his suit jacket's inner pocket. He pulled out something that looked like a ruler attached to another ruler, he shook it at the table. “You ever see one of these, Edward?” It was a sacred relic, and it drew Howard's eyes as Oliver put it in his son's hands like a knight with a sword. “No,” Edward moved it slowly in his hands, confused. It had small moving parts. He was not supposed to play with toys like this yet. The toddler wondered what it would feel like in his mouth, but the wisdom of his father kept him from exploring that impulse. Toys were not for eating. “Well, you can have this one. It's what I used on Terra because the computers didn't work. Had to do all the math by hand. Why don't you go ask your grandpa and grandma to show you how it works, and mom and dad and I can have a grown-up talk.” Edward took the ruler greedily against his chest and bounced away from the dining room. Howard had to know, he carefully found his way back into the seat and asked Oliver, “Was that actually the one you used?” He did not want his son breaking something important. “Oh no, the real one is in the Smithsonian” After a pause, “On Terra. I was with State for a few years after the war, and it was always a great trick to ingratiate yourself with a parent. It has historicity, it's educational, and the child feels like they got a toy.” He returned to the presentation, “Grace, what are you getting at? You've genetically engineered your children into super babies, 'cause that's both super illegal and I don't know how you have the time to do that and your actual job.” Grace returned to her presentation, “Oliver, I think we figured it out, and none of the other council worlds have this. This is why we travel, to find technology and research and bring it to Earth's benefit. How do Nitzkies turn themselves into super humans? We assumed they genetically engineered themselves in the womb, like with embryo screening, gene insertion, or even cloning. We mapped them onto typical sci-fi tropes, that they Gattaca'd into a new species, and hate us because we're the inferior race.” Oliver did not like the direction of this but kept silent. “What if they're just humans? Like us. That would make it easy to hide in the multiverse. It would explain why we never could find them with genetic screening or any other tech. Because they're just humans. It also means they can recruit from any population, merge with any people, take on any form or place, and when they're ready, turn themselves into mutants. What if the changes happen after they are born? They're not eugenicists or speciesist, because that's not who we are either.” Oliver still did not get it. “What does this have to do with your dad? What's going on?” “Oliver, my dad has been on breast milk for two years, same as Edward. My mom, who can barely speak five words, has not taken any. Just look at them physically, my dad looks better than he did when I met him, and my mom turned into a fat old woman. It's as pure a test as you can get, same environment, same inputs, one control, one variable. And sure, I wasn't expecting him to recover in this way, but look at this, this is incredible, with some training and direction he could be, I don't know.” She waved at the picture; she did not have the language to describe it other than it looked good. “I still don't get it, put it together for me.” That was not true, Oliver could feel his mind racing, going through each possibility. He needed her to say it. “You know how we have the project, with Commander Powell. Well, I took some initiative with a project of my own. It turns out the school we picked is kind of decently tiered for physiology and cognitive science. I reached out to a some of researchers there, and we got to talking.” “You were supposed to be gathering price data, not talking with the locals. It's dangerous, you could have been taken,” Oliver was legitimately concerned. “Well, I wanted to see where they were at on a few things. We've been wanting to know what was up with the mommies for a while, so I decided to ask. It turns out the milk has some really fun properties. It is excellent for the Amazon's own children and helps with brain development and growth.” Grace had a joyous indifference to Oliver's condemnation. “What did you give them?” Oliver cut through the bullshit. He needed to know the cost of this deal with the devil. “Crispr. I told them we needed to augment our genes with some of theirs to help save our planet, and they were excited by the possibilities, and in exchange they,” she hefted her breasts slightly, “gave me some augmentation.” The council had nearly sanctioned Earth over Crispr. Earth had to explain up and down it was just for vaccine development and cures for genetic deficiencies. Now the meal made sense, when she went back to work, people would see how she had changed, and Oliver would need to run interference. The second child had triggered some biological response that sent her milk production into overdrive. “Grace, you crispered your boobs? You have no idea what that would do! It could have hurt your children. You could have hurt yourself.” “Oliver, pay attention, the Nitzkies. They change themselves after they're born, breast milk is a lipid that can carry the instructions. It can pass through the blood brain barrier and get directly into the hippocampus and other major structures. It works because breast milk is already designed to fuel the brain with synaptic growth. The Nitzkies just turned the dial on the process up to eleven.” Grace would often make cultural references to late twentieth century entertainment when she wanted his affirmation, she had never actually seen that movie. The Amazons. Could the littles have bioengineered them for this? A single Amazon could be a mid-wife for ten children. Oliver stared hard at the painting, or perhaps even a couple of adults. As repulsive as eugenics was to Oliver, he had no qualms about letting people make such modifications to themselves. Which left one question, what the hell had happened on Amazonia? Why was everyone a baby? The planet should be lousy with Einsteins, not babies listening to Baby Einstein. The reasons the Nitzkie's project had failed ultimately did not matter. They had left their greatest secret out in the open and Earth had found it first. Grace had done it, and there was no reason to believe it could not be replicated across the planet. What was the council going to condemn Earth with? Giving their children breast milk? She had found the Grail. Not something useless like a math proof, but actual technology that would change the world for the better, and push Earth above the rest of the multiverse. He had visited enough of the council worlds; he knew for a fact they did not have this. Some were smarter, sure, Earth's education and child development were backwards compared to some of the other worlds, but they were still dumb humans like Earth. You could drop a Dath-Ilani baby in an Earth orphanage, and he would grow up as shallow, irrational, and error prone as any other Earthling. Of course, there was that other thing. “Fuck! We gave them Crispr.” Oliver was not even sure what that would mean for Amazonia. Nukes would have been bad. The secret project in engineering, yes, that was going to turn their planet upside down, but it was not a technology the Amazons could use directly. The ability to change genes? The Amazons were great at iterating, even if their imagination was a bit lacking. They could have moved the tech forward decades in the two years Grace had done this project. There was no telling where they would go with this. He assumed it would be bad. “They could give that maturosis disease to everyone.” It was genetic right? That was what the magazines said. He honestly had no idea how the disease worked. “Or cure it” Grace said softly. She had been there enough to know that was unlikely, and she herself had felt the pleasure of turning an adult into a baby. “They're not all bad Oliver.” “Well. if they're Nitzkies they're born bad...” Oliver wasn't even sure anymore. “We need proof. Something in the historical record showing where the Nitzkies or Amazons came from, then we need Earth to lock up this world for ourselves and keep out of the hands of the rest of the council.” He could see all the balls moving in the air, as a different kind of clarity of thought, even if nothing was in focus. The opposite of Red Bull, but just as strong in moving the mind. “We need to grab another one of them. I don't know, maybe one from the history department. Just have him stop in for a few days, we'll ask him questions and maybe he can explain what happened along the way. When will you be good to travel? We'll need the full team for this operation.” “Tomorrow. Oliver, Mr. Swift, do you think, maybe, this put me up over Naomi?” Her childish competition to always be the best. Oliver paused and actually thought of the question. If we do not go to jail for this, if it actually worked, if they could find the proof this was a Nitzkie world and this was Nitzkie tech. Oliver was regaining control of his tongue and did not say what he was thinking. “Well, you see Naomi did one thing I'm still very impressed by.” “What's that?” “She hired you.” * * * Howard, Thomas, and Grace had retired to the master bedroom. They went through all their expectations for each other moving forward, and each apologized for lying to the other. Thomas helped mediate their rising tensions. He may have been only two months old, but he did not like the tone his parents were using, and his presence soothed their thoughts and pushed them to a desire to understand and work with each other. The two found themselves even laughing at how silly they had been, delighted at how so many things had gone right when there were many opportunities for things to have gone off the rails. Howard turned off the lights for the night, and as he turned to go to sleep, Grace asked him one final question. “Are we still set on Edward going to daycare when he's three?” She had been against it, felt school might even be beneath her son, and now Howard understood why she had been reluctant to expose him to the world. “No, he doesn't have to go, I don't mind home schooling him, I just thought it'd be nice for Thomas and Mira to have some more attention, and he needs to learn socialization with others outside the house, even if his peers aren't yet up to his level.” Plus, he would have more time for his next daughter. He kept that secret future dream baby to himself. “Well, I didn't tell Oliver this, but I also started a project in the physics department. Apparently, the Amazons accidentally found a way to safely adjust the mass of objects using something they learned with their dimensional travel tech,” Grace started. “What like capsule corp? Oh, sorry, that's from Dragon Ball. You could shrink a vehicle into the size of a capsule and carry it in your pocket.” To Howard this sounded like a billion-dollar idea if they could make it work. “Not like that. More like, maybe after my brother comes, we could ask Charlie if he wants to go back to school, he could keep a watch on Edward for us, make sure he gets along with the other kids. I think I can get him down to three and a half feet, maybe four.” Grace knew Charlie felt a strong push to go back, to be in school again, he would probably enjoy it. They could get rid of the swing-set. Get something more appropriate for all the children to use. The boys could share clothes, maybe even get a bunk bed. Charles was such a great helper though, and he was helping pay for the house with his social security checks. The idea still intrigued Howard as his open eyes stared at the ceiling, shapes and shadows moving across his vision. Dark plans and dark worlds. He could finally pick up Mira and carry her around, take her shopping, get her a tea set. “Charlie is doing well in retirement. I think he could even open his own art gallery if he keeps it up. Kind of hard to do that from kindergarten. Let's start with your mom first, and if we're happy with the result we can ask Charles if he wants to do another trip back around the long way again.”

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.

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 ! ! !

Looking for a lovely son

I moved since I last posted here. I'm in the greater boston area

Chapter 42: Well This Got More Complicated “You recognize her?” “Yes, she was my client who hired me for this assignment.” Emma growled standing suddenly in realizing this didn’t feel right. Why would a Sugar Baby hire Emma? Why would Bailey and MacGyver have any relation to the Sugar Babies? Emma clasped her palms in a silent fume as she stared at the screen and Ted looked at her in confusion, “She… hired you for this? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would…” Ted tilted his head, as confused as Emma. Emma shook her head, “I don’t know. Maybe Chad ended her career from firing her and she wanted revenge? That’s all I have as an idea right now.” Emma said, squinting her eyes in confusion, feeling icky. Not to mention, she was slightly pissed and jealous still, knowing she tried seducing her Daddy. Then, she had the audacity to inflict more damage by sending Emma in. Emma didn’t understand any of it, yet that was the best theory she could come across. Ted nodded, staring at the screen, “That may make sense.” He shook his head, “This is a good start for us. I have another client to get too but I’ll reach out if we have further information. I meet with the Sugar Babies client this Friday and I think after that we can meet next week to see what else we can dig up.” Emma nodded, eyes still shifting at the picture of Brittany on the screen, “Sure, but, um, can I warn about something first?” Ted closed his laptop and paused, “Yes?” “Knowing MacGyver, they already know you’re tracking them. They are letting you right now and your data is compromised. I will not access anything more unless I have a separate laptop and VPN. I would suggest your team doing the same as soon as possible.” Emma said solemnly, eyeing his phone on the desk and nodding, “Even that.” Ted’s eyes blinked to his phone as he picked it up, turning it off. After a few moments, he asked, “You think they are in our devices and can hear us?” Emma nodded with a gulp, “Yes. If MacGyver is on this, they see and hear all. I was taught that early on, after all.” She shrugged, blinking to her apple watch that Chad was making her wear. “Fuck. How am I so stupid?” Emma said eyeing the watch. She didn’t know for certain if they hacked Chad’s devices but… if MacGyver knew Emma was apart of any of this, she was sure he’d be tracking her too. Emma turned off her watch quickly and sighed, “They probably know. There’s a chance I could be paranoid but…” Ted looked back with the same seriousness, “I don’t think you are. Our team has only lost the battle so far and it hasn’t made sense until now. This hacking team is good and even our own team has been targeted. Our office has been in chaos, to be quite honest with you, just like Chad’s office was attacked by you. People are quitting from the blackmail and I’ve lost my best cybersecurity defense team.” Ted said, sitting back for a moment in sadness. Emma nodded, “Well, I have nothing they can blackmail anymore, so maybe I’m the perfect person for your team.” Ted smirked, eyes meeting Emma’s and feeling relief of having a talented hacker who couldn’t be lost through blackmail on his side. “Well, thanks for this today Emma. I’ll see you next week it seems.” He said, hesitating before leaving, “Can I ask you to keep this between us and only us for now? Don’t tell Chad, your friends, anyone. If this person, the MacGyver you speak of, is watching us, we need to be a step ahead of them and keep what we know under wraps until we decide what move to make.” Emma nodded, understanding that this was a very serious game they entered into, and she could keep a secret. She had to, knowing who they’d be up against. She’d heard stories, kidnappings and people disappearing who crossed MacGyver. Emma knew this whole situation just got dangerous, for herself and anyone involved. Emma walked back up to Chad’s office and went through the motions of her work, although her brain was running a thousand miles per second still trying to decode what in the actual fuck was happening. Chad told her to work with Charity after lunch through his meetings and the day went by quickly as Emma was slightly still thrown off from what she discovered. Her brain rationalizing why Brittany would attack Chad not once, but twice. None of it made any fucking sense to Emma. She didn’t know what had happened and why Bailey didn’t say anything to Emma when she left. Did Bailey even know that MacGyver had a second business? Emma went home that night in a daze, confused still with nothing adding up. None of it. Emma could barely sleep that night, tossing and turning in a restless state, wishing she had a damn TV show to watch to help take her mind off of her swirling thoughts about the situation she couldn’t understand. As Emma was going to sleep, another idea that seemed more likely than Brittany's revenge scheme on Chad to send Emma in bubbled into her brain: Was it all a setup? She was literally thrown into Chad's presence because Brittany failed with the Sugar Babies. Maybe Brittany was sent by MacGyver... but why would MacGyver send Emma in if Brittany failed already? In Emma's line of work, second attempts are futile and every hacker knows that. And, to top that off, Emma wasn't a Sugar Baby, at least, not to Emma's fucking knowledge. Emma shook off the thought, all of this made less sense by the second! Why would MacGyver send Brittany to have Emma complete Brittany's failed work when he would have known the Jenkins Firm was burning to the ground by Kiara leaking their information? If that were the case, Emma was literally sacrificed. There was absolutely no reason for her to be in this predicament in the first place! The idea was silly to Emma and she shook off the thought of MacGyver being the mastermind behind all of this and resting on the idea it had to have been Brittany. It wouldn't make sense that MacGyver would make Emma a literal sacrificial lamb. Emma was the best hacker MacGyver ever trained, why, theoretically, would he raise her to only slaughter later on? That wouldn't make sense to Emma and, if by chance it did, that'd mean Emma was in danger. A lot of danger. Emma had heard stories of agents disappearing and not in a change-your-name-and-move-states way but in a cold case murder way. The thought gave Emma chills and the only thing that helped her was to laugh it off before deciding that couldn't be the case. It made no sense and the more likely answer was Brittany's revenge. Emma seemingly couldn't begin to fathom why she was intertwined in all of this for just a stupid revenge plot. Emma eventually fell asleep with a unsettling feeling that something was off, so damn off, since the day she got this assignment and, surprisingly, it had nothing to do with her new boss and his weird interests with Emma.

When I met my now ex-wife, some 15 years ago, I told her about my diaper desires. She never liked it, but accepted it. When I divorced her 5 years ago, she used it as a weapon. Blackmailed me about it to get our kid to move out with her. I would NEVER recommend telling anyone the truth about being ABDL after that experience. I invented a lie there and then, and started to talk to doctors about my "issues". And started being diapered 24/7. And told everyone about it. Just to remove her weapon. I've been 24/7 ever since. I've now lived the lie for 5 years, and to me and my brain, its no longer a lie. When you repeat it over and over, it turns into the truth. And 5 years of 24/7 have made me diaper dependent, so it is not really a lie anymore. Having everyone know, have helped me so much at accepting who I really am as well. My quality of life have improved by a lot. I've since, been in a 1,5 year long relationship, where my girlfriend only knows about the lie. She accepted me from the beginning, and been great about it. My advise: Create a very good story. Design it, so nobody alive can reveal the lie. Practice it. And again until you know all the details by heart. Then put it into action, and stick to it. The road out of the lie is another lie. So make sure you really want to be diapered 24/7! TL;DR: My advice: Make up a good story, and live your life like you want it. You'll love it.

Warning: This is a deviation from Avery and Darlene, etc., but it is an important part of the story along with the next chapter. I use Ashley and Chloe in changing during the story. They are one person. Chapter 37 - Prost Sports Bar Ashley was sitting and waiting in her car, parked adjacent to the pulsating neon lights saying open for business at the Prost Sports Bar. She delicately traced her lips with a final coat of ruby-red lipstick, using the rear-view mirror as her guide. She scrutinized her blush, a soft, rosy hue that accentuated her high cheekbones, and fluttered her eyelashes, thick and lush from multiple coatings of volumizing mascara. She adjusted her dark brown wig that was very securely in on her hair, hiding her red hair. She then slid in her contacts, replacing her naturally blue eyes with dark brown eyes. Before arriving, she had placed an expensive temporary tattoo of a green vine on her left arm with some blue hues and black outlines. In addition, under the dress on her lower back, she had a temporary tattoo of a vibrant hummingbird, wings outstretched, hovering above a delicate vine of purple flowers. Both of these tattoos wouldn’t come off without using nail polish, and one couldn’t tell it wasn’t a permanent tattoo. Her outfit was meticulously chosen for this night. She wore a sultry little black dress that clung to every curve like a second skin. The fabric was soft and smooth, shimmering under the dim light of the car's interior. It had a neckline that was open and V-down, which plunged daringly low, revealing just enough cleavage to be enticing without crossing into vulgarity. The hemline of the dress flirted dangerously high on her thighs, showcasing the toned firmness that came from countless hours spent in yoga classes and gym sessions. Her legs were encased in sheer black stockings with an intricate lace pattern that added an extra layer of allure to her ensemble. A pair of stiletto heels completed the look - glossy black patent leather with pointed toes and sky-high heels that elongated her legs further and added an edge of dominance to her persona. She was dressed not just to kill but to conquer - every detail calculated and well thought out to ensure she caught every eye in the room and left no man indifferent. She was lucky her wardrobe offered lots to choose from for occasions like this. Before exiting her car, she stuffed an empty stainless-steel bottle and two full plastic water bottles in her elegant but large Christian Dior purse. She made sure she always had her normal stuff with her two cans of mace. A sharp pocketknife. A pocket-sized high-definition video recorder. As she exited, she flattened out her dress and walked towards the bar. The familiar sound of lively chatter filled the city street as she made her way to Prost Sports Bar for the third day in a row. The painted wooden sign above the entrance glowed brightly, beckoning her inside. When she entered the bar, she scanned the room for Johnny, the bartender who had become her new friend. She knew exactly what time Darlene's work hours were and made sure to arrive early, hoping to catch a glimpse of John when he entered, the man she had been messaging on Facebook as a different person than she was playing now. "Back again, Chloe?" Johnny queried, leaning on the polished wood of the bar that had become so familiar to her in just a few days. "You're practically part of the furniture now." She flashed him a cheeky grin, tilting her head slightly as she asked for her usual. "A gin and tonic with rosemary, if you'd be so kind, Johnny." As she reached for some napkins, she playfully scattered a handful of nuts onto her side of the bar. Johnny chuckled as he began to mix her drink. "At this rate," he mused aloud, "we might have to hang your picture on the wall. You'll be our resident regular before you know it." Chloe shot him a coy glance from beneath long lashes. "Oh? And what would my caption be? 'The mysterious woman who's always here but never says much?'" Johnny smoothly slid her drink across the counter towards her, and she carefully positioned her hand to grab it. She lifted the drink and took a sip as she looked through. Behind and between the glass of the drink, she subtly surveyed the rest of the patrons in the bar. As she perched on the barstool, crunching on salty peanuts, her attention was drawn to the typical rhythmic clatter and thud of billiard balls colliding. The pool tables set off in one section of the bar not far from her view; like all pool tables, it was a green-felt surface illuminated by a hanging lamp that cast long shadows. A group of men huddled around it, their laughter and banter echoing off the worn wooden walls. She recognized them - they were familiar faces from previous nights spent here. They had shared games before, their camaraderie built over friendly competition and half-drunk beers and drinks. She decided to slide off her stool and join them again tonight; it would be a good way to wait until John's arrival allowing her to blend into the lively hum of social interaction at the bar. As she drew closer to the pool table, her pulse increased slightly. It wasn't solely due to it being a usual night for games at this bar, but because she was acutely aware that If John showed up and if she played it right, he would scrutinize her every gesture once he walked in. She needed to execute this perfectly. She needed to look like she fit in and wasn’t singling him out but rather a random encounter where he would display interest in her. Her actions had to carry a measured grace and seductiveness that would draw him but, at the same time, seem like she wasn’t seeking the attention. "Mind if I join you guys?" she asked casually, leaning on the edge of the pool table and gesturing at the game in progress. "I promise not to hustle too much again." The playful challenge was evident in her voice, as well as the unspoken invitation for John to watch and see how she played when he showed up. “Hey, Chloe,” the men almost chimed in simultaneously, happy to see her back. “You are always welcome at our pool table for as many games you like to play with us.” She quickly grabbed a pool stick to join in a new game as the balls were being racked up. When it was her turn, she leaned over the pool table, allowing her skirt to ride up just enough for a tantalizing peek beneath its edge. Her fingers delicately positioned the cue ball, careful not to waste this delicious opportunity before the men at the table like an open invitation on each curve highlighted by shadow and light dancing around them in the dimly lit club. She made sure to do this each time she was taking a shot. Around the pool table were men of varying ages, their gazes fixed on her with a mix of admiration and desire. "So, who's going next?" She asked playfully, breaking the silence as she straightened up from lining up her shot. A man with salt-and-pepper hair laughed heartily, "I think we're all too distracted by your presence to even remember whose turn it is!" A younger man chimed in, his eyes sparkling with friendly lust and amusement. "Yeah! You've got us all wrapped around your little finger." Their bodies subtly moved closer together as they bantered back and forth; their breath mingled together, creating an almost palpable atmosphere of electricity-filled air around them both, heightening anticipation building inside them both, eager for release, which would come only once cue ball found its mark upon velvet surfer. As soon as it was time for other players to make their move, without hesitation, she struck a swift blow. The eight-ball went straight in toward the called corner pocket, giving her the first win of the night. “I win!” she shouted in a flirting victory to the boys. Just as this happened, John entered the bar and sauntered with his typical swagger step of overconfidence and manliness into the bar, his eyes scanning the room with a lustful gaze. He was on a mission tonight, hunting for a captivating woman who would appreciate his charm and wit and seduce them back to his place. His gaze darted from one corner to another, assessing potential prospects and sizing up the competition. His eyes did spot Chloe as she was to take the first shot, with her leaning over and her dress riding up on her firm thighs. As he made his way through, the clink of glasses and laughter filled the air as he weaved through the crowd. The scent of beer mingled with perfume teased his senses as he sidestepped a couple locked in an intimate kiss. A group of men near the pool table caught his attention momentarily; their boisterous laughter and overt displays of machismo marked them as possible contenders. His eyes caught a glimpse of Ashley playing pool. She was too preoccupied to approach for now. His eyes finally landed on a cluster of young women huddled around a round table. Their faces were illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, their laughter like music over the hum of conversation. They were sipping margaritas, their cheeks flushed from alcohol and mirth. John straightened his sports coat, smoothed back his hair, and approached them with an easy smile playing on his lips. "Ladies," he greeted smoothly, pulling out an empty chair without waiting for an invitation. “Mind if I sit. The place seems crowded.” He leaned back comfortably, stretching out long legs under the table as if he belonged there all along. The young woman told him to have a seat. They didn’t mind the company. He introduced himself with practiced ease before launching into light-hearted banter that had them giggling behind hands and shooting him coy glances over salt-rimmed glasses. As Ashley continued her game of pool nearby; John had found his target audience for the evening - young ladies who enjoyed good company over appetizers and margaritas. Ashley noticed John shortly after he entered but didn’t want to act too quickly. The meeting needs to be more accidental. After a few more rounds of flirting and shooting pool, Ashley intentionally lost to speed up the game. But throughout their gameplay, she couldn't help but steal glances at John, who seemed to be charming a group of girls at another table. She did notice John taking a few glances at her, which was exactly what she wanted. Once the pool game was over, Ashley pretended to be engrossed in conversation with some of her new male friends while secretly keeping an eye on John. When he approached the bar for a second drink, she seized the opportunity and excused herself from her company because she needed a refill on her drink. Ashley's breath tickled John's ear as she leaned in close, saying, “Excuse me”, having to push herself between him and another gentleman to get to the crowded bar, the sweet scent of her perfume mingling with the smell around her. Her deep brown eyes flashed with irritation, and he couldn't help but notice the slight tremble in her full, luscious lips as he shouted for Johnny, the bartender trying to get his attention. John had just caught the attention of the bartender. “I need a Long Island iced tea! I have had another shit day with shitty coworkers” "Ugh, I absolutely detest those days," She grumbled, her fingers combing through her luscious locks of hair. A shiver ran down John's spine at the sight of her delicate touch. The neckline of her low-cut top revealed not only some cleavage but a hint of lace from her bra, teasingly beckoning him closer. John couldn't tear his gaze away from her, completely captivated by the temptation from her body. He had been covertly craving Ashley secretly since he walked in, and now she pulled herself up to the bar, drawn to every curve of her figure and the fierce intensity in her eyes. "What a pretty young lady like you, had a shit day too?" He asked, his voice thick with desire. Ashley turned towards him as if really noticing him for the first time, and for a moment, their eyes locked. In that moment, he saw the unspoken invitation in her gaze. She reached over and caressed his cheek playfully. “Dear, you have no idea.” She turned away from him to ignore him. “Johnny, can I also get a drink? Gin and tonic, but make it a double!” She shouted. Chloe did her best to pretend to be slightly buzzed. John wanted to get her attention back before she got her drink and ran off to play more pool or got back to chatting with the other men. As the bartender placed a slice of rosemary into Ashley's double gin and tonic, John leaned in closer with playful mischief. "You know," he began, his voice a low hum over the clinking of ice against the glass, "I've heard that rosemary is a symbol of remembrance." Ashley arched an eyebrow at him, her lips curling into a small smile. "Is that so?" John nodded, leaning back against the bar counter with an easy grace. He took a sip from his own drink before replying. "Yeah. It's said to help improve memory too." "Then I guess I won't forget you easily," Ashley retorted playfully, her eyes sparkling as she accepted her freshly made drink from the bartender. John chuckled at her response, his laughter warm and inviting. He leaned in again, catching her eye as he spoke. "Well then," he said, his tone teasing yet sincere, "I suppose I'll have to make sure our conversation is worth remembering." "Perhaps the night will be our judge, or maybe it won't," Ashley teased trying to keep John’s interest and focus on her, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in closer to John, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "But right now, I've got another pressing matter to attend to." John raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh really? And what might that be?" Ashley's smile widened as she replied playfully, "Nature calls." She then pushed herself off the bar stool. John chuckled and gave her a mock salute. "Well then, why don't you leave your drink here?" He gestured towards the full glass on the counter. "I'll stand guard and make sure no one tampers with it." Ashley laughed again at his offer but shook her head in playful defiance. "A lady never leaves her drink out of sight," she retorted before walking away with her glass towards the restroom. John chuckled at Ashley's response, intrigued by her charm and confidence. As she made her way toward the restroom, he couldn't help but admire the way she moved with graceful elegance, drawing eyes from across the room. Taking a sip of his drink, John leaned back against the bar, his mind buzzing with anticipation. He had watched Ashley disappeared into the crowd, her presence lingering in the air like a tantalizing promise. This was the girl he wanted to conquer tonight. In the bathroom stall, Ashley poured her drink out in the toilet, keeping the rosemary. She took out one of her bottles of water and poured in tonic water with cucumber flavoring. The gin she had ordered had cucumber flavoring it. She freshened up a bit more and returned, placing herself back in the role of Chloe. A few moments later, Ashley returned to find John still waiting at the bar . He may not have been guarding the glass, but he was guarding a bar stool set next to him in the busy bar, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Ashley sashayed past John, her eyes carefully avoiding the vacant bar stool beside him. She acted as if she was engrossed in a world of her own, oblivious to his presence. However, John wasn't one to be easily dismissed. He caught her attention with a playful tug on her arm, drawing her back towards the empty seat. “No need to look for another seat. There is a warm seat here with a friendly man next to it.” With a feigned surprise and a coy smile dancing on her lips, she allowed him to guide her back onto the barstool next to him. Ashley's voice, a sultry purr in the bustling bar, reached out to John. "So, John," she began, her tone dripping with intrigue, "why would a captivating man like you be here all by himself tonight? You've been quite elusive these past few days." Her gaze then caught sight of another familiar face. George was an affable middle-aged man whom she had shared friendly banter with over the last few days. "George! Good to see you!" Ashley called out, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth as he approached. George's face lit up at the sound of his name. He was a regular at this watering hole and always enjoyed their lively chats about pool and sports. "Hey Chloe," he greeted back with an eager smile that crinkled the lines around his eyes. John watched from the corner of his eye as George engaged Ashley in conversation about last night's pool game and the upcoming football match. The camaraderie between them was palpable, and it stirred a sense of competition within him. He felt sidelined, a spectator in their animated exchange. Ashley seemed oblivious to John's growing discontentment, but inside, she was well aware of his simmering frustration. It was all part of the act to not seem too easy. She couldn't help but think to herself how petulant John was. "I'll catch up with you later, George," Ashley said after a while, raising her voice slightly as George moved away into the throng of patrons. "Sounds like a plan," came George's reply, fading into the humdrum noise of the crowded bar. Ashley faked her distraction, her eyes straying to the busy crowd. "Apologies, let's continue our conversation," she said, turning back to John. His eyebrow arched in response, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he retorted, "Just savoring the presence of an enchanting enigma who introduces herself as Chloe." A soft laugh escaped Ashley's lips before she corrected him. “I should have given you my real name earlier… I'm here on assignment with Eternity Fashion, it’s a magazine." She paused for effect before adding, "Ever heard of it?” John chuckled heartily at her question. “Do I come off as someone who'd be into that? No offense intended but those glossy pages aren’t exactly my style. I'm more of a Sports Illustrated guy myself; their annual swimsuit edition is always a treat.” His words were casual, but his gaze was anything but. It lingered on her with an intensity that was almost palpable. “Interesting," Ashley mused aloud. "I’ve rarely encountered straight men who know about Eternity unless their wives subscribe to it... And then they only mention the stunning women featured within its pages.” Her voice dropped lower as she leaned closer to him and added teasingly, “So that must mean you’re single.” She pivoted away from him to face the bar again, her hand brushed against his thigh in what seemed like a casual accident. The move was anything but accidental. "Unattached and liberated," came John's response, his gaze locked on her. In an unexpected move, he signaled the bartender for a round of shots. "Excuse me, barkeep, two Don Julio 70 Cristalino Tequila shots, please - one for the lady and myself." Ashley was taken aback by this sudden escalation. It seemed a bit early to be diving into shots. But then it dawned on her - he'd ordered the Don Julio 70 Cristalino, a top-shelf tequila that didn't come cheap. He was trying to impress her, flashing his supposed wealth like a peacock flaunting its vibrant feathers. Yet she wasn't about to be swayed by such shallow displays. She couldn't outright reject the offer, though; it would seem rude. So, she had to devise an alternative plan quickly. Swiveling back towards the bartender just as the clink of glass against wood echoed through the air, she turned her attention back to John. "Before we indulge in these," she gestured towards the freshly poured tequila shots with a charming smile, "how about we raise our glasses in toast? Let's drain our current drinks first before moving onto these." She knew his Long Island Iced Tea packed more of a punch than her seemingly innocent gin and tonic - or what he thought was gin and tonic. Little did he know that all she'd been sipping so far was just tonic water with a twist of rosemary. “Sure, a toast to this magical place that brings me an intelligent young woman like you here.” Ashley wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t. She had to play the part. She smiled. “To this place for finding two good-looking people.” They clinked their glasses as she drank the rest of the fake tonic and water, and he downed his Long Island iced tea. John's gaze meandered from her face down to the curve of her neck and finally rested on the hint of red lace peeking out from under her snug black dress. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary on the exposed swell of her cleavage before they snapped back up to meet hers. He held up his shot glass with a playful glint in his eyes and asked, "So, what shall we toast to then?" Ashley pretended not to notice. “I am going to toast to the end of a fucking awful day!” She shouted and clicked their two-shot glasses as she swallowed her first shot and first alcoholic drink. John watched as if she had taken many shots before, and she slammed it down on the table. “dam, I needed that.” John then followed. “I bet your week couldn’t have been worse.” He smiled, feeling the warm tequila go down his throat. A wave of warmth rushed through John as Ashley's hand found its way onto his shoulder. Her bare thigh brushed against his, an intoxicating contact that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him. She leaned into him, her body language hinting at the tequila's influence. A playful smirk danced on her lips as she slurred slightly, “I bet I can win.” His heart pounded in response to her closeness, and he reveled in the intimate moment. Ashley then sat up and leaned over on the bar with a sultry glance towards the bartender. “Another gin and tonic, if you will.” Johnny, the bartender, responded with a playful warning. “Don’t overdo it, Chloe; remember you have work tomorrow.” His gaze shifted to John before he added, “Keep an eye on her, John.” John tipped his hat at the bartender’s words. “I’ll take another Long Island Ice Tea,” Ashley purred, her voice dripping with relief as she leaned closer to him. “You know there is this fresh-out-of-college girl at my office who thinks she can out-write me on fashion articles,” she paused for effect, her eyes searching his face as she lowered her voice to a whisper. "And sex articles." She let the word hang in the air between them. "I've been in this game for ten years, and then this little upstart comes along thinking she knows better." She scoffed, taking a generous sip of her now gin and tonic as if trying to drown her fury and disappointment in its bittersweetness. "Fucking GenZers," Ashley seethed under her breath. "They waltz into the office like they own the place from day one." He rolled her eyes dramatically before adding, "I have one of those know-it-alls too. Thinks he's some sort of genius when it comes to boundary theory and high-level math. I practically invented that shit!" His words rang with bitterness. "Bingo," Ashely thought smugly to herself, "I've got him emotionally hooked...perfect." "John," Ashley began loudly, sympathy lacing every syllable of her words as she reached out gently to squeeze his thigh suggestively. Her hand lingered just a little longer than necessary before sliding up ever so slightly higher. "You're incredibly talented; your work deserves recognition." John sighed heavily, meeting Ashley's lingering gaze with frustration etched across his features. "It's all just fucking politics, Ashley. They don't care about talent or hard work; it's all about some young hotshot they want to promote." He snorted derisively before adding, “You know what? That kid can’t even keep his pants dry. He pisses himself like a baby. Why would they ever favor someone like that?” John takes down half of his Long Island Iced tea, this time out of anger. Ashley nodded, her eyes glinting with determination. "I hate this shit; we're both being overshadowed by these kids who don’t know their ass from their elbow.” She leaned in closer to him, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, "I have an idea." John leaned into her touch as her head rested on his shoulder as she pretended to be a little drunk, and he slid his hand slowly down along the curve of her dress, feeling the firmness of her ass beneath the thin fabric of her thong. A spark ignited in John's eyes as he turned to face Ashley fully. "What do you have in mind?" His voice was thick with anticipation. —- Pretending to be a little drunk, Ashley began to slur and blend her words. "Have you ever experienced angry sex to release all the tense and pent-up feelings?" Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she added, "Or the exhilarating rush of fucking loudly and animalistically in an office while venting your frustrations at your boss?" “I should know because I wrote a sex article discussing the therapeutic benefits of such encounters. It is nothing to be ashamed of because it served as an outlet for pent-up emotions and unresolved conflicts.” Ashley continued to explain in a pretend drunken state how it could be a primal release, a way to express anger without causing harm. It was about channeling negative energy into something passionate and intense. For John, the portion about office affairs was equally intriguing, and how she described these encounters as being filled with adrenaline and risk, adding another layer of excitement to the act itself. It wasn't just about physical pleasure but also about asserting dominance and control in a space where one usually felt powerless. Ashley painted such vivid pictures with her words that John found himself entranced by them. He could almost feel the raw emotion pulsating through every sentence she spoke, every concept she introduced. A heat rose within him – he was undeniably turned on by her risky idea. John raised his glass, the faint clinking sound echoing in the room. "Chloe," he said, his voice steady and resolute, "You are a naughtily little devil; I would love to experience something like this. God knows we could both use a release from those two brats and our workplace that shelters them. What do you say we practice what you preach in your writings." Ashley met his gaze, her own determination mirrored in her eyes but for reasons she held to herself. She clinked her glass with his before setting it down on the table. "I'm with you, John, and honestly, I would love to," she replied, a hint of caution creeping into her voice. "But I can't do it at my place of work." John's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?" "I only had a temporary badge at Eternity Fashion’s local office. I am from out of town," she explained. "I had to turn today when I left the building. I fly back to my home office tomorrow morning." A momentary silence filled the room as John processed Ashley's words. The fact that they couldn't use Ashley's workplace and she was flying back home added fuel to his urgency.“ Ashley let the words hang in there for a while. “look, here is my number. You send me yours, and I can call you the next time I am in town, and we can try again.” Ashley looked disappointed as she wrote her phone number down on a napkin. The number was a real phone number but from a burner phone and not her real cell number. John was upset. He came here tonight to find someone to have sex with, a conquest. This lady was sexy as hell and had hi going. He couldn’t let her go. “Chloe, what if we did it at my office? I sure as hell would like to have this angry sex and release there as well as your office." John stated, hoping Chloe would take the offer, pushing himself, hitting Barstool up closer to Chloe, and placing his hand on her thigh, riding it just a tad to let her know he was serious. “Think about it while I head back to the restroom.” He whispered in her ear as he helped back the desire to nipple as the ear lobe. John got up, and quickly disappeared in the crowded bar to head towards the restroom. While he was away, Ashley seized the opportunity. With an air of relief and agreement etched on her face in response to John's suggestion, she discreetly reached into her bag under the shadowy overhang of the bar. She pulled out an empty wide-mouthed bottle, almost invisible in the dim light. With a swift yet careful motion, she poured her untouched gin and tonic into the bottle, making sure not even a single drop spilled over. The thrill of this subtle rebellion sent tingles down her spine as she meticulously replaced only the tonic water back into her glass. John reemerged, anxious to hear what Chloe would say. "So, what's your verdict?" he asked Chloe with a teasing glint in his eyes. Ashley met his gaze and responded with a playful smirk, "Yes, I'll accompany you back to your office." Their conversation flowed on effortlessly as they finished their respective drinks, the atmosphere charged with an unspoken promise of the adventure that lay ahead. John rose from his seat, offering her his hand with a gentleman's charm that belied the raw desire in his eyes. She accepted it with a smile, pretending to play the part of two individuals who were up to mischief and adventure. Together they left the bar behind, its dim lights fading into insignificance as they set their sights on DNA Pharmacia.

Again sorry for taking so long. I have written three chapters out. I am going to get one out today. One out tomorrow and one out Sunday. Update on me: I am making it. I have cut back my consumption of Alchol which is good. My Dad's deminta is continuing to decline. Seems faster than normal. The other day he thought my mom was taking to long of a shower and she just stepped in and go mad at her and yelled at her for not getting out sooner. His temper is getting worse. Not helping with my mother's stress and cancer. She is starting to make comments about sending my dad to memory care. That is going to be a hard step for her and my dad will not go with out a huge fight. But on brighter news, I got the three chapters done. Chapter 35 - Unwelcome Oppurtunity In the wake of Avery's distrust, Laurisa found herself gripping Darlene's arm, employing a gentle persuasion to prevent her from darting after him. "He needs to reach this crossroad independently," she said, her voice brimming with empathy. "His difficulty in trusting you or anyone else merely underscores his need for this therapy, but its acceptance is ultimately his choice. I would never coerce any of my patients into something they're not ready for." Darlene nodded in reluctant agreement with Laurisa's words, yet it did nothing to quell the burning urge within her to follow Avery and try sooth his turmoil and make him reconsider. Her sister was her voice of reason right now and she trusted it. Alone upstairs, Avery found himself staring at the meager contents of his backpack. The bag he hastily packed when he let his apartment with Darlene after his breakdown. He really had nothing but his stuffed dog and work items. Darlene had been more than kind to purchase him slacks for work and his self-dubbed 'work onesies.' He had left behind the diapers and Pj footed sleeper, items that served as stark reminders of the regression conversations he'd overheard from Darlene and Laurisa. The mere thought of those discussions sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of denial and fear knotting in his stomach. They talked about him like he was some project to be fixed, not a person with feelings. He didn't want to be regressed; he hated it. Yet, there was an insidious part of him that craved the attention Darlene showered on him. It felt good to be cared for in a way he hadn't experienced before. But Avery couldn't let himself acknowledge these conflicting emotions. To do so would mean accepting vulnerability, something he feared more than anything else. The prospect of being abandoned yet again loomed large in his mind, casting long shadows on any potential happiness. His gaze landed on the Red Dog stuffed animal peeking out from the corner of his bag—a silent companion through countless sleepless nights. A sudden rush of affection for the plush toy flooded him, along with an overwhelming sense of longing for stability and safety. He swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. Maybe he could ask Darlene if she'd keep Red Dog either with her or in her SUV while he was at work. The thought offered a small comfort amidst the sea of uncertainty churning within him. Minutes that felt like hours trickled by before Avery reappeared from the upper floor, his stormy demeanor replaced by a calm facade. He was dressed and ready for work in a burgundy polo onesie, neatly tucked into crisp new dress pants - one of the recent additions to his wardrobe courtesy of Darlene's shopping spree. The outfit was strategically chosen; it would discreetly conceal any diapers or pull-ups he might need to wear to work or anywhere else he might go outside of his apartment. As Avery locked eyes with Darlene, his expression was unyielding, a silent proclamation that he had no desire to delve into the topic of regression therapy or diapers. Instead, he broke the silence. "I want to wear pull-ups again instead of the…” there was a pause. “the diapers as a safety measure for work," he said, his voice firm and resolute. He repeated "I don't want to use the diapers you've bought." Darlene exhaled in resignation. "Alright, Avery," she conceded not wanting to start a fight right now. Avery looked up and appreciated that she didn’t fight him on this “On the way to work can we head to Target and get those pull-ups so I can put one on in the restroom at work" Darlene. “We can drive by target. It is on the way.” Avery hesitated before adding another request. "Could you... could you go in and buy them for me?" Darlene's eyebrows shot up in surprise but she nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I'll do it." There was an edge of frustration in her voice but she kept it under control for Avery’s sake. Despite this concession, Avery offered no word of gratitude as Darlene navigated her vehicle towards Target, prepared to face the awkward task of purchasing adult pull-ups on his behalf. Upon arrival at work and before exiting the vehicle in the parking garage, he had stashed two additional pull-ups securely inside his work backpack and left the remainder in Darlene's SUV. When the elevator opened to his floor, Avery made an immediate detour to the restroom, where he swiftly changed into a pull-up in one of the stalls just before the other employees started trickling in. He had stashed two additional pull-ups securely inside his work backpack and left the remainder in Darlene's SUV. Emerging from the restroom, Avery made his way to Darlene’s office, where he helped himself to coffee from her personal collection. He chose his favorite K-cup blend, placed his stained Lego coffee cup under the Keurig, and waited patiently as it brewed amidst the palpable silence between them. As normal, he added the sweetener to his cup of coffee. Darlene carefully watched and yearned to break the silence and say something, anything, but words failed her. Then, without uttering a single syllable, Avery retreated to his desk in the communal workspace, where he powered up his laptop and prepared for the day ahead... Darlene shook her head. He didn’t even say thank you as she sat down to go through her log of emails. It was like he forgot how to be polite to her as a form of respect. He could still be appreciative. It wasn’t long before Christy showed up and sat down across from Avery. Christy would always beat Avery to work, but Darlene was an early riser, and since Darlene was his ride to work, he managed to arrive before Christy. As she exited the elevator and walked over to her desk, her face lit up with a warm smile. Her outfit was professional and stylish, with a form-fitting blouse tucked into a pencil skirt. Despite the early hour, she looked well-rested and put-together. Her unusual bright green eyes scanned the room until they landed on Avery, and she made her way over to his desk with a spring in her step. He could tell she was genuinely a happy person as she immediately struck up a conversation. Avery could smell her perfume, and even looking down, he could see her short blonde hair, which fell between her jawline and shoulders. It was neatly cut straight around the head and had a slight curve under at the ends. It was a clean look that helped exude confidence and professionalism. As she stood close to his desk, Christy tried to strike up some conversation. “Welcome back; I heard you were sick.” Her voice sounded awake and perky. Avery continued to look through his notes. He didn’t lift his head up to look at Christy. “A little, but I am ok now,” Avery said, doing his best to ignore Christy as he didn’t want to talk about what happened between him and Darlene. Christy felt the odd sense of being pushed off. With that, Christy sat down at her desk and began to work, deciding now wasn’t the time to strike up a conversation with him. After about an hour passed by, the office was filled with the usual hum of keyboard taps and hushed conversations. Christy, after a long stretch of focused work, decided it was time for a break. She pushed away from her desk, her chair rolling back slightly as she stood up. Unlike before, it was she who had to go on the coffee run instead of Avery’s offering. She made her way to Darlene's office, where she had often seen Avery retreat to for a caffeine fix. Walking into the room, she was greeted by the familiar, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. She saw Darlene smile at her but also tap her headset to let her know she was on a teleconference. Christy gave the knowing nod and smiled back. Christy looked at the Keurig, then picked her favorite K-cup blend from the collection. As the coffee brewed, she found herself lost in thought. She continued to wait and listen to Darlene talk into the headset with an authoritative voice. She looked at Darlene with admiration, thinking to herself that it was too bad she was in IT; she would have made a good boss in her department. With her cup of coffee in hand, she took a moment to savor the aroma before returning to her desk, ready to continue her work. Bryan, dressed in a smartly tailored sport coat made his entrance into the room where Avery and Christy were deeply immersed in their digital worlds. The polished leather of his shoes reflected the overhead lights as he moved purposefully towards an unclaimed chair near an empty cubicle. The chair's wheels scraped against the floor, announcing Bryan's presence even more as he deftly positioned it next to Avery's workstation. His voice, warm yet assertive, cut through the hushed atmosphere of the workspace. "Christy," he beckoned with an amiable grin playing on his lips, his words rebounding slightly off the sterile office walls. "Join us over here. We have some matters to discuss." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a semblance of a smile as he added, "I have news for both of you." Avery swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His mind raced with potential scenarios – was this it? Was he about to be fired? Had one unplanned day off tipped the scales against him? He tried to avoid eye contact with Bryan, his eyes darting around the room and his desk avoidantly. Christy, on the other hand, wheeled her chair closer to Avery's desk without hesitation. She positioned herself strategically between Avery and Bryan, her eyebrows raised expectantly. Bryan cleared his throat before continuing. "I've been analyzing the latest batch of data – Avery’s calculations and Christy’s programming – against our lab findings. We had it running all weekend just to make sure we weren't missing anything." He paused for effect. "But..." The word hung heavily in the air. Avery felt like a lead weight had settled in his stomach. His mind was already spinning with thoughts of what could have gone wrong, holding back tears as he waited for Bryan's following words. Bryan's finger went up to motion for Avery not to speak but to wait. "I received a call from our CEO regarding our results," Bryan continued slowly. "I didn’t want to mislead him so I spent every waking hour this weekend and Monday double-checking everything." Before Bryan could continue his words, Avery blurted out nervously, tapping his left foot rapidly on the floor while fiddling with his fingers anxiously. “I... I can fix whatever went wrong!” His voice wavered, and he looked as though he was on the verge of tears. His anxiety gave way to his bladder, letting go and wetting his pull-up some. Luckily, the pull-up did its job, and Avery hadn’t had a lot to drink yet and had recently gone to the restroom. Bryan glanced at Christy, who was watching him intently, her gaze hopeful. The contrast between Avery's anxiety and Christy's composed anticipation couldn't have been starker. Bryan leaned back in his chair; his fingers interlaced behind his head with a slight laugh. "On the contrary, Avery. Your work is nothing short of awesome." Avery’s head snapped up to meet Bryan’s gaze for the first time since the conversation began. “What?” He paused, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t find anything wrong with it?” Christy's lips curled into a smirk. "See, Avery? I told you to stop being so negative. IT is unnecessary. Your brilliance shines through even when you're not trying." as she playfully jab Avery in the side. Avery's cheeks flushed crimson. "I... uh... thanks, I guess?" He was still in disbelief. Turning towards Christy, Bryan continued, “And Christy, your programming has been instrumental in integrating Avery’s calculations into our work on next-gen cancer drugs tailored to individual genetics. Your should be just as proud” Bryan cleared his throat. "Now, don't get too comfortable. The CEO would like you to give a presentation on your work and the results next Tuesday at the quarterly board meeting.” Christy looked excited as she never had the opportunity to meet the CEO, let alone give a presentation. “If he likes what he hears, he will fully fund the next phase of the project and allow us to build a full-scale pilot plant. So a lot is at stake in this presentation” Avery was stunned in silence. Last time he tried to give a presentation it turned into a total disaster. “But, there is one requirement. I regret to have to tell you both, but you have to work with John on creating and giving this presentation.” “I tried multiples times to convince the CEO to not allow John to be apart of it. he insisted since John is really the person that started this research 10 years ago.” Bryans voice was full of disappointment in himself. “I am sorry to both of you but I promise when ever John is present. I will be present to ensure balance and that he is respectful” Avery looked horrified as he looked down at his shoes. “Avery, we can do this. We got this. It isn’t ideal but you're going to get a lot of recognition. I will be by your side” Christy chimed in trying to sound eager, supportive, and sympathetic as she could read Avery’s anxiety and self-doubt. Byran continue now “Lot if the presentation is a hit and I sure it will be. We got job security, and we've got a mountain of work ahead of us." He tried to joke and be serious at the same time. Christy raised an eyebrow. "Define 'mountain,' Bryan. Are we talking Everest or a molehill?" "Let's just say it's somewhere between K2 and Kilimanjaro," Bryan replied, his tone dry but with humor and seriousness attached. Avery fidgeted with his pen. "So, what exactly did the CEO say?" Bryan's expression turned serious. "He said if the presentation goes well and he is convinced, he wants us to fast-track the project. We're talking late nights, weekends, the whole shebang." Christy whistled low. "Well, there goes my social life. Not that I had much of one anyway." "Join the club," Avery muttered under his breath knowing he had zero social life or friends. Bryan shot them both a look. "I hope you two aren't planning on throwing in the towel already." Christy straightened in her chair. "Please, Bryan. We're not quitters. We're just... assessing the situation." Avery felt a little ashamed because he had thought about quitting more than once, and now he had thought he was going to get fired. He knew he wasn’t the most positive person. He always expected the worst. But this was how he guarded himself. He has always been right in the past. For a moment, he thought about Darlene and how she tried to be there for him and he walked out on her. He shook that notion quickly out of his head to focus on what Bryan was talking about. Christy nodded a determined glint of excitement chimed by. "Absolutely. Though I might need a caffeine IV drip installed at my desk." Bryan's lips twitched in amusement as he laughed at that comment a little bit. "I'll see what I can do about that. Now, let's talk specifics." He joked and laughed a little For the next hour, they delved into the intricacies of the project, discussing timelines, potential roadblocks, and strategies to overcome them and how to present this all. As they wrapped up, Bryan stood, stretching his back. "One last thing," he said, his tone casual. "The CEO mentioned something about a bonus structure for this project if it is successful. Substantial enough to make even our accountants raise their eyebrows." Avery and Christy exchanged glances. Avery didn’t even know what a bonus was. Was he going to get 100 dollars or something like that. "Define 'substantial,'" Christy prodded. Bryan's lips curved into a sly smile. "Let's just say it might involve a comma and couple of digits past that." Avery's breath caught in his throat. "As in... multiple digits before the decimal point?" "You catch on quick, Avery," Bryan laughed as he replied. "Now, I expect both of you to bring your A-game. This project could change lives... and not just our own." Christy leaned forward, her fingers drumming on Avery’s desk. "Bryan, you sly fox. You were saving that little tidbit for last, weren't you?" Bryan shrugged, his expression innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Avery shook his head, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. "This is... big. Really big." as he said this out loud and not realizing it as reality was setting in for Avery. He felt like he was in over his head. "Captain Obvious strikes again," Christy teased, nudging Avery's shoulder. "But you're right. This is our chance to make a real difference." Bryan nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Exactly. Now, I'll leave you two to digest all this. And you two can hit the ground running tomorrow." As Bryan turned to leave, Avery called out, "Bryan? Thanks... for believing in us." his voice quivered a little bit. Bryan paused, glancing back. "Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we've approved for this so we can pilot this cancer treatment. Now, get back to work, you two. Those genes aren't going to reprogram themselves." With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Avery and Christy to contemplate the monumental task ahead of them. Avery and Christy were both still stunned that they were to give a presentation to the Board on the research with John. During this all this discussion, Avery had felt a familiar, uncomfortable warmth spreading beneath his waistband and in his pull up, the result of stress-induced incontinence. His pulse quickened and he swallowed hard, fighting the wave of humiliation that threatened to wash over him and trying to hide the fact that he just wet himself. Once Bryan left, he tried to maintain a calm exterior as he mumbled an excuse about needing a moment and reached for his backpack to Christy because she looked like she wanted to continue the conversation. His fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the worn leather handle of his bag, filled with the necessary supplies for situations like this. His heart pounded in his chest like a frantic drumbeat echoing through an empty hallway. He could feel Christy's gaze on him, her eyes filled with empathy and concern. He made his way towards the restroom with an air of casualness he didn't feel. Each step was measured, calculated to exude normalcy despite the turmoil inside him. Once inside, Avery chose the furthest stall from the door - a small attempt at privacy in this public space. With practiced efficiency born from necessity, he stripped off his soiled pull-up and replaced it with a fresh one from his backpack. The rustle of plastic seemed deafening in the silence of the restroom but he knew it was just his heightened anxiety playing tricks on him. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before re-dressing and packing away the evidence. Emerging from the stall, Avery washed his hands thoroughly while avoiding any reflection in the mirror above the sink - he didn't need another reminder of what had just transpired. As he left the restroom and returned to work, he hoped against hope that no one would notice anything amiss or question why he'd taken longer than usual. After Avery returned, Avery and Christy separately dove into their work, their minds buzzing with the magnitude of the task at hand. As they worked, Avery couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety about working closely with John, given their past incidents. He glanced over at Christy, who was engrossed in her work, and decided to keep his concerns to himself for now. He really needed more protection than his pull-ups had to offer. this put him in an awkward position. He could go back to Darlene and ask for help, but he was in no mood to have that discussion since Darlene & Laurisa thought he should be in diapers and treated like a baby. He looked at Christy typing away. Even if he put himself in diapers, he didn't want to risk having another accident because he might not put it on correctly. He had already been humiliated twice at work by wetting his pants. Both times John was involved. He wasn't going to let it happen a third time. He didn't know how to resolve this. But right now, he needed to focus more on his work and getting it ready for the board. The rest of the day Christy & Avery worked. As the clock ticked towards the end of his day, Avery's heart sank. His pull up was damp once again, a cruel reminder of his anxiety-induced incontinence. The office was still bustling with people, their laughter and chatter echoing through the hallways as many where also ready for the day to end. He couldn't risk changing in the bathroom stall; the fear of discovery always gnawed at him. With a heavy sigh, Avery began his trek towards the bus stop. Each step he took felt like trudging through quicksand. The wet pull up clung coldly to his skin, a discomforting sensation that amplified his unease. He could feel it squishing against him with every stride, an unwelcome reminder of his condition. The mile-long journey to the bus stop stretched out before him like an unending road to humiliation. He kept his head low, avoiding eye contact with passersby as if he could somehow hide this personal embarrassment from them. His cheeks burned with shame under the weight of imagined stares and whispers. He passed the park where he had previous intentionally feel into the fountain to hide the fact, he had wet his pull ups so hard he soaked his pants. That was the day he tried to describe where the calculations were wrong to John. John really scares him. How was he ever going to work with him. A part of him wished he had accepted Darlene’s offer for a ride home - she would have saved him this walk of shame. But accepting her help would mean acknowledging her and her kindness which stung more than any physical discomfort ever could. Avery didn’t want to talk about regression or diapers with her. Darlene had promised she would take his stuffed red dog, his clothes she purchased for him, along the remaining pull ups to his apartment when she was done with work. So Avery walked on, each step a painful testament to his struggle. He tried to focus on anything else - the crunching gravel underfoot or the cool evening breeze brushing against his face - but all he could think about was the wet pull up chafing against him and how desperately he wanted to be home already. After the bus ride, Avery approached his apartment. The weight of Darlene's benevolence was a leaden presence in his gut. She was going to deliver Red Dog, his cherished stuffed companion, along with leftover pull-ups and new clothes she'd procured for him so he didn’t have to carry them home himself. Each item was a tangible reminder of his struggles, like salt rubbed into the raw wound of his self-esteem. Unlocking the door to his apartment, he was met with the stale scent of solitude. He placed his backpack just inside the threshold and kicked off his shoes. The apartment was a simple layout: an open-plan kitchen and living room, a small bathroom to one side and a bedroom tucked away at the back. It was not much but it was home - a place where he could be himself without judgement. From the living room and kitchen area, which was in disarray, he moved towards the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. The familiar routine of showering provided some solace; hot water cascading down over him washed away some of the day's stress. As steam fogged up the mirror, Avery felt a brief respite from reality. After the shower, Avery got dressed in white boxers, black shorts, and a gray T-shirt. He laid down on the sofa while thinking on what to eat for dinner. All he had were frozen meals. He sighed remembering the wonderful meals Darlene had made him. Just then he heard a knock on his apartment door. Darlene stood outside wrestling with her emotions. Waiting for Avery to answer door. Avery opened the door. Seeing the large cardboard box Darlene had used to place all his stuff in. “Thank you bring my stuff by.” He reached out to take the box and place it just inside the apartment by the front door. He was about to close the door when Darlene spoke up "Congratulations Avery," she had said trying to sound cheerful despite feeling concerned for him, You're such an intelligent guy." Her words were meant to encourage him but they fell flat against Avery's indifference. "I guess...thanks," he replied dismissively before adding," I need to go. I've got work to do before bed." Darlene sighed softly, "I understand... Have a good night," she said as Avery closed the door without another word leaving her standing alone in front of it. She wanted to knock again, to make him face her and discuss what she saw as regression in as therapy and the reason why it would be good for him. But Avery had been curt when he took the box from her, dismissing her attempts at conversation with an abrupt thank you before closing the door on her face. A part of her wanted to force that door open and give him a piece of her mind, reprimand him for his rudeness. But she swallowed down that impulse, reminding herself that she was the adult here, and Avery was just a young man grappling with his own demons. After a long shower and getting into his boxers only and under the dim light in his room with only one reading lamp on, Avery sat on his couch and scrolled through Mama B's website, searching for any inserts that would provide extra protection during his encounters with John. He dreaded being in close proximity to him, but he couldn't avoid it But at least Byran and Christy were also present to help and protect him. With a heavy sigh, he added the needed insert pads to his cart and proceeded to check out. But as he was about to complete the transaction, a memory flooded his mind. The feeling of warmth and safety while in Darlene's arms, wearing nothing but a diaper. It had been a surprisingly comforting experience, despite his initial resistance. Just before checking out. Avery, in a silent act of surrender, added to his online cart a pack of absorbent disposable diapers. Opting for an expedited delivery, he envisioned the comfort they would bring tonight. He planned to nestle into the welcoming folds of his worn-out sofa, cushioned by plush pillows that had seen better days but still held their shape. The combination was meant to replicate an intimate memory - the sensation of resting his head on Darlene's lap. The softness and warmth of the couch fabric against his cheek would mimic the comforting texture of her jeans, while the pillowy support underneath him served as a stand-in for her thigh's gentle firmness. The diaper, snugly fitting around him, would echo how she used to hold him close when he wore them with her - not constricting but secure. This arrangement was his secret refuge, a tender recreation amidst the tumultuous sea of his complex emotions.

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.

Yes, if you read in some of my stories , my brother and step, shared an unprotected king bed, and it was peed on every night . I had my on bed in the same room because I had stopped peeing the bed. When everyone was out I would strip and get in there still wet bed, and roll around in it I was 10-11 so I didn't know what was happening , but I know I Loved it and so did my penis , I was hard as a rock in seconds I humped the bed, I used the wet blanket to rub on him etc, I want that wet smelly bed back sooooo bad.....

Chapter 100: Editing CROSSING THE THRESHOLD to my previous nest had felt like a trip back to daycare. This somehow felt even more babyish as I looked around the room, though! The walls were painted baby pink on two sides and pale lavender on the other. Above the pods and on every empty space were painted baby unicorns. The baby part was evident with the pacifiers they nursed and the diapers they wore as they frolicked around pastel rainbows. A giant sun with a smiley face was painted on the pink wall where the changing table sat. About fifty percent of the painted creatures and scenery were coated with sparkly glitter paint, making the paintings shimmer oddly as you moved. Whereas the only actual seating in my old nest were the desk chairs, a single rocking chair, and two bean bags, this room featured more bean bags, giant stuffed animals, and… ‘Rocking unicorns?!?’ I thought, realizing what four things were in the middle of one side of the room. Actually, it was then that I realized there was a genuine ‘play area’ part of the room, complete with a giant dollhouse, dolls, doll furniture, and what looked like a play kitchen, too. ‘What the fuck?’ I thought internally. “A bit overwhelming, huh?” Lilly said, bending down to where I’d frozen. Don’t worry; you don’t have to play with any of the dolls. When the dorm was built, the donor insisted that each of the girls’ nests have a play area with plenty of dollhouses and toys for them to destress. I looked up at her in disbelief, “Umm… that seems a bit over the top?” She laughed, “You’re not alone in thinking that, Carly, I just think it’s a bit sexist that the girls got this, but the boys got boring rooms.” Mackenzie shook her head, “If you put this in the boy’s nests, they’d destroy it just to make a point.” “Some of the girls do that already,” Lilly said before looking like she shouldn’t have said that. “So, which pod is mine?” I asked, sighing. ‘Can nanites be programmed to filter out extra sparkles?’ “This one here,” she said, “They just swapped out the mattress and everything. I put new bedding on for you too,” she said. I only noticed then that my name was hand-painted on a piece of white wood with ‘Carly Sparkles.’ All the other girls had their first names and sparkles after theirs, too. The pods were white, with bedding alternating pink or purple across every other pod, mine being purple. Grandma helped me set up my desk with my things and unpacked what clothes I could keep from my life as Connor, taking the rest to her house in case they were needed again. Mackenzie left at some point, but Lilly stayed behind and helped organize everything. “We brought this box of diapers,” Grandma said, “I know you don’t get many Littles Carly’s size here.” “She’s in diapers now?” Lilly asked. “Oh, I guess that message didn’t make it to you. There’s been a side-effect of the poisoning Carly had the week before last… She’s lost her continence now.” Lilly looked at me, clearly unhappy, and said, “I’m so sorry, Carly! This wasn’t a very good weekend for you, was it?” I shrugged, “We finished our film at least?” “You’ll have to tell me all about that later,” she said as Mia and Willow walked in. “Well, hi girls, I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to meet her, but we have a new princess joining our nest!” “Hi, Mia, Willow,” I said. “Sorry, how do we kn…?” Mia started to say. “Connor?!?” Willow asked. “Carly, now,” I said with a groan. “How?” Mia asked. “Long story, but suffice it to say I can’t live in the boys’ nests anymore?” “You’re living here?!?” Mia asked. “Can he do that?” She asked Lilly. “Yes, because she is a little girl just like you! Though her diapee might be a little drier? I’m guessing that’s why you two came back?” Both girls blushed but nodded. “Let’s get those diapees changed then,” she said. Both girls looked uncomfortable, especially as they noticed Grandpa, but that didn’t stop her from picking up each and changing them as we headed out the door to get lunch. “I’ll be back later,” I told her, “Thanks for the help!” Grandpa and Grandma followed me out. Grandpa waited until we were inside the closed elevator to say, “That room is girlier than any of the girls’ nurseries you ever designed, Mandy, and I didn’t think that was possible!” “I always knew things were different in the girl’s nests,” Grandma said, “but I think that’s worse than even if Stacy had been stuck inside one.” I nodded, as I’d heard a few things myself already. “Guess we’ll have to start buying you clothes with unicorns on them so you can match the rest of your nest?” Grandma teased as the doors opened. I slapped my forehead, “I’m going to die of sugar overload!” Grandma and Grandpa took me to lunch in the Union before asking, “Are you doing anything after class besides going to your dorm?” Grandma asked. Remember, I need to take you quickly to student services for that new ID; they said they could update your wrist ID, too.” “Beth and I are supposed to meet up and work on starting to edit everything together,” I told her. “Can we just do that now?” She looked at the time and said, “Maybe? Let me carry you, and we’ll see if they’re open.” I sat in her arms as Grandma hurried to another part of the Union where student services were housed. Fortunately for us, they were open. “Hi, we need to update Carly’s ID,” Grandma told the woman at the desk. “Why?” “She’s Carly Slane now, not Connor Slane?” “And you are?” the woman asked suspiciously. “Professor Amanda Westerfield,” she told her. The woman’s expression was almost comical: “Got it! Carly, come over here and stand on this step stool…” My picture was taken, and the card ID was replaced quickly. The wrist ID was a bit trickier, but she could update that information, too, since it was just a change in name and gender. “Send me a message later so I know you made it back to your nest, okay?” Grandma asked after walking me to my math class. “Okay,” I told her. She bent down to my level, “Tomorrow, you have a doctor’s appointment with Doctor Nickerson after your screenwriting class to see if there’s any change in your situation. We want to give it some time to see if things stabilize first. I’ll meet you outside your class to take you over there.” “Okay,” I said. “I love you, Carly,” she said as she hugged me tightly. “I love you too, Grandma.” I walked into Math Analysis and tried to steel myself for the conversation with yet another class that didn’t recognize me at first… BETH GRABBED LUNCH with Livy and Reila that day, even as she initially kept an eye out for Carly. She received a text, though, saying Amanda and Fred had taken her to lunch after the move. “So, how’d things go this weekend?” Livy asked. “Umm… That’s really hard to answer,” Beth said. “Problems in lover’s lane?” Reila asked. Beth blushed, “Not between us, no?” “Then?” Livy asked. “You’ve got that guilty look like you know your best friends are supposed to know something, but you’re kind of embarrassed to tell us?” “I do not,” she tried to defend herself. “Totally do,” Reila added. She sighed, “Okay, so the filming sucked for the roles for us, but the crew was nice, and things went well. We finished filming everything yesterday, so we’re done with the worst part as long as we don’t need to reshoot something.” “That doesn’t sound like a secret?” Livy pushed. “Argh!” Beth complained, “So the script required Connor to go ahead and get one of the nanite treatments to change his appearance to her appearance.” “Wait, I thought you were the dunce?” Reila said. “Thanks…” Beth shook her head, “I was, but the buddy was a transgender character for some reason. So, to make it real, Connor became Carly. The plan was to have him become a girl for the filming from Saturday through finishing on Sunday, then everything would be reversed.” “Oh…” Livy said, “Reversing didn’t go so well?” Beth ran her hand through her hair nervously, “No, and that was only part of it…?” “So your boyfriend is now a girlfriend? Are you willing to try and make that work?” Livy asked. Beth bit her lip but nodded, “I think so? She’s still the same person?” “That’s so totally sweet,” Reila said. “Right answer!” “Something else, though?” Livy asked. “So the nanites also reactivated a side-effect from that stupid LittleGo Plus that that bitch poisoned him with. His potty training is effectively gone forever at the moment.” “That sucks,” Reila said. “Yeah… So you willing to date someone who you have to change their diapers?” Beth nodded, “That, of course, had its own problem. I’m just starting my period, and those stupid hormones were turning the mommy me completely nuts this morning.” “Oh!” Livy said, “You have one Amazon parent, so I guess that’s why?” Beth noted Livy didn’t say which parent. Truthfully, her true biological father had been, so she nodded, “Maybe?” “So wait, you haven’t like…?” Reila asked, pointing to her chest. Beth blushed, “No!!!” She felt her stomach turn, “Mine won’t, right?” Livy shrugged, “Who knows? Betweeners have odd genes. Sometimes, we’re more like Littles; otherwise, the stupid Amazon genes express themselves. You probably need to have a conversation with him… I mean, she to warn her?” “Yeah,” Beth agreed. “Beth, why does that woman over there keep staring at us? She looks a little too old to be a college student.” Beth turned and saw Nikki, “I guess there was one other thing since I saw you… That’s Nikki, my bodyguard…” I WAS GRATEFUL as I finished my math class, and I was able to get free of any taller interventions. Doctor Nash had announced an upcoming quiz, and every other student apparently panicked as they all rushed her at the end with questions and attempts to get tutoring. I had surreptitiously checked my diaper during class and knew that the drinks I had at lunch had run right through me and into the diaper. I was grateful to find Beth coming out of her own class, as we had plans to go work on editing the film. “Hi, Carly,” Beth said, closely followed by Livy. “Hi, Beth,” I said. I blushed at Livy’s shocked expression as she knelt before me, “Oh, my gosh, you’re adorable!!!” “Thanks,” I said nervously. “Sorry you had this happen,” Livy said, “But at least you are cute!” I sighed, “There is that!” “You ready to go work on the project?” Beth asked. I nodded, “We should try and get started at least?” “I booked two hours of editing time already, so we can get a start,” Beth told me. “Join us for dinner?” Beth suggested to Livy. “Can’t tonight, but I’ll take a raincheck!” She said with a smile. She gave me a friendly hug, “Welcome to the better side of life,” she winked. Beth looked down at me, “Need a change first?” She asked quietly to avoid passing students from hearing. I sighed and nodded, “Please? If you don’t mind? I can go to one of the stations if you do?” She surprised me by picking me up and placing me on her hip, whispering, “No stupid HoloNanny is going to change my girlfriend!” I blushed but comfortably sat on her hip as she carried me to the nearest bathroom. Three changing stations were available, and Beth placed me on the cleanest-looking one. “Let’s get you into a dry diapee!” she said with a smile. “Can you hand me one and some wipees from your bag?” “What’s with the mommy vibes?” I asked her as I handed her a diaper and a packet of wipes from my backpack. “Sorry, Con… Carly,” she looked sheepish, “Sorry about the wrong name there too. Since it’s my time of the month, apparently, the maternal instincts are coming out. I really am trying to tamp them down.” “I didn’t realize you had that much Big in you,” I told her as she gently pushed me onto my back. “I didn’t either,” she admitted. “It’s weird, and I’m sorry. I was incredibly distracted in class this morning since I couldn’t help but think I’d been a little crazy with you.” She pushed up the skirt of my jumper dress and unbuttoned the onesie top to reveal my soaked diaper. A moment later, she pushed the top and the jumper almost up to my arms to get them out of the way so she could reach the diaper. “You really soaked this thing!” She smiled at me. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s frightening how quickly I went from full control to less than a baby.” She kissed my head, “Nothing you can do about it! Do you need to go anymore?” I shrugged, “I can’t feel it to tell you?” She made a face, looked around the room, and then suddenly attacked my belly with her fingers without warning! “Beth!!!” I complained, “Stop!” After a little bit, she did and said, “I guess you did need to go some more…” I groaned, “Surely there are less torturous ways to make me pee myself?” “Maybe, but not as fun for me!” She kissed me on the nose and returned to opening the diaper. She was thorough but quick with the rest of the change. Soon, buttoning up the onesie, pulled the skirt down and placed me on the ground. “Okay, let’s go get to work?” she said. I nodded. It was a bit of a hike to the Matisse Center, but not horrible. I appreciated that she controlled the maternal instincts that seemed to suddenly flair and let me walk beside her. While we walked, we talked about our classes and other things. “How’s the new nest?” Beth asked. “Imagine the girliest preschool bedroom you could imagine? Filled with unicorns, rainbows, and sparkles?” She grimaced, “Okay?” “Now give that a shot of some crazy drug, call it a sparkle enhancing super powered formula, then concentrate that and inject the whole world with it!” “That bad, huh?” “I’m not kidding about unicorns or the sparkles,” I shook my head. “It was bad enough being fox kits in the other nest; we’re literally baby unicorns. I looked it up. Apparently, some people call those ‘sparkles’ instead of colts?” I shuddered, “My baby sisters wouldn’t have even wanted it in their girliest of fantasies!” She laughed at me then. “Seriously… and then did you know the girl’s nests have ‘play areas?’” She looked at me as if this was new to her. “What do you mean?” “One part of the room has a couple of gigantic dollhouses and a play area straight from a daycare!” “That’s scary,” Beth said. “I didn’t know that, though; I wonder if anyone actually plays with them?” I shrugged in response. “Who’s in the nest?” I shrugged, “I don’t know all of them; I do know two girls from my dimension are in there. They were a bit nervous, I think, when they figured out who I was, since to them, I’m effectively a boy moving in?” “They’ll get over it as soon as they see you naked?” Beth suggested. I blushed, “I hope so?” Fortunately, the editing studio we had booked was in front of us, so I was able to avoid having any other embarrassing discussions over girly nests and naked me! When I entered the room, I couldn’t help but peek around to ensure there were no surprise former crew members before climbing onto an adjustable-height chair at a computer console. The editing setup was similar to what I’d experienced back home but definitely more advanced! A HoloScreen that felt large due to its proximity to the user was set in the middle. To the right and left of the main screen were ten smaller screens that could display two-dimensional images for quick scanning of views and proofs and synced video to choose views. On the desk itself was a complicated series of touch screens that displayed a series of edit controls and options. I was amused as I activated the console that a holographic set of physical controls like a joystick and wheel were still available, which I assumed were meant to help control views and zoom in. There was even an obvious interface for EdgeSphere goggles! We’d been given an overview of the suite of tools in class, but this was my first real solo venture, and I was looking forward to playing! “What’s first?” Beth asked as she pulled another tall chair up beside mine. “We need to log in first,” I said, pulling up the screen and inputting my credentials. That took us into the system, and I could log into the special server for the projects. My eyes watered over the space the files occupied, but I was able to bring a list of cuts up onto one of the side panels. “Do you have your hard copy of the script by chance?” I asked her. She nodded, pulling out a binder. “Any reason you want a hard copy?” I shrugged, “I feel like it’s easier to make sure we get everything?” She nodded at that, “Okay, now what?” “Now… let’s look for the first clip…?” To my amazement, every clip was already self-labeled with Scene, Take, Length, and even good and bad take marks on the sheet. I knew a couple crew members traded off with a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ rating on the takes, but no one, as far as I could see, had entered the rest of the data? ‘Must have been a setting in the studio? I’m guessing it caught and transcribed the data when they spoke at the beginning of the takes? Talk about a time saver!’ Beth and I soon devised an edit decision list for the first scene. “Okay, let’s take this wide view of you first?” I said to Beth as I started selecting the clips from one take and populated all of them on the outside monitors while choosing the clip I wanted first in the middle. It took us the better part of fifty minutes to edit the first prologue scene, finding the best camera coverage for each line and action. “All of that for a couple of minutes of film?” Beth asked, eventually becoming somewhat exasperated. I laughed, “There will be worse, Beth. At least we didn’t have to worry about special effects?” “This is going to take forever!” she whined. “Probably,” I smiled, “Let’s get it done!” Beth and I worked the entire two hours we had the studio reserved, saved our progress, and headed to dinner. We had sat down at one of the mixed-height tables with our food about a minute before Amy and Mia walked up. “Hi, Con… Carly?” Mia said. “Hi, Mia, Hi, Amy,” I said. “May we join you?” Amy asked. I nodded, “Please!” We sat for a few minutes eating before the elephant in the room roared, “So, is it really true you’re a girl now?” Amy asked I nodded. “This dimension is insane!!! Why did we volunteer to come?” Mia said sadly. “Are you not finding anything positive?” Beth asked. “Well… not really. I’m in my Early Childhood Education classes, but half of them have been more about caring for Littles like me rather than young children! My professor even wanted me to…” She stopped and looked embarrassed. ‘Probably play baby for them?’ I thought to myself. I nodded to her, “I honestly worried about that when you introduced yourself before we came?” “How much did you know?” Amy asked. “I mean about how nuts everything is?” “Probably just about everything?” I said. “My mom came here…?” “So anyway, I guess you get to be in our nest now… go sparkles!” Amy said sarcastically. “Is Lilly at least better a better nest mother?” I asked quietly. “Much,” Mia said. “At least we don’t have forced playtime like in our other nest?” “That is so bizarre! She actually made you play with the dolls?” I asked. “Not just that, she made us pretend we were young enough to do stupid things like play house too… I hated that when I was a kid, for real!” Amy griped. The four of us talked for thirty minutes while we ate and gradually moved back to conversations that were more normal for college students. Time did tick on, though, and eventually, Mia said, “I’m going to head to the nest,” Mia stood, “I need to study and get some sleep.” I looked at Beth before turning to Mia. “Would you Mind if I walked back with you, Mia?” “Umm… sure, Amy, you going back too?” “Yeah, might as well,” Amy replied. “Beth, I’m going to go with them to see how things go tonight. I’ll message you later if I am able?” I looked at Beth as I stood. “I’ll hold you to that!” Beth told me while giving me a quick hug. With that, the three of us headed for the exit. We’d just barely walked inside the doors of Sanders Hall, though, when I felt my body stop on autopilot and crouch. A moment later, I could feel my diaper filled to the sides and the back with a gooey poop that was more liquid than solid for some reason. It was horrifyingly disgusting to have it on my butt! “Guess you really are back to diapers like the rest of us?” Mia asked me a moment later on the way up to our floor. I grimaced, “Unfortunately…” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press that Like Button and leave a comment! I'm ahead of you all with writing, but I felt a couple of weeks ago when I wrote this that it was a big moment for me with this work! I know for certain that I'll divide the completed work into several books for publishing, but it definitely is a milestone in the work to me! As of this chapter, I'm now about 2/3rds of the way through Chapter 120 (357k words right now). Beginning this week, I'm going to be pulling back to just my two chapters a week as long as I can keep writing at least that many per week. Moving into May and June, my writing season tends to end as I get very busy in real life for the next six months leading to the end of the year. If I'm going to have too much of a gap with chapters I'll pull things back to one chapter a week to dole it out more. All that being said, PLEASE press the like button and comment! It helps me stay loaded with that wonderful Dopamine inside my brain that conditions me to keep writing for you all! As always, if you have enjoyed my writing but haven't purchased it yet, all completed works are available on Amazon Kindle! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter 99: Sparkles WHEN GRANDMA WOKE me up the next day, I swore I’d only slept for an hour at most! I was exhausted, but adrenaline carried me through a very aggressive morning swim. A shower followed, and Grandma had just gotten me dressed when Beth came in. “Want a hand with your hair?” she smiled at me. “If you don’t mind,” Beth added to Grandma. Grandma smiled, “Go ahead, she’s your girlfriend.” I blushed, “Sure?” “Don’t worry, I have the perfect idea for you for today!” She smiled as Grandma left. “Now I am worried,” I said as she got to work with me, sitting in my desk chair. “Normally, I might go ahead and use the nanite spray they used for the shoot with this, but I think you need to take a break from nanite anything for a bit!” I grimaced, but even then, I felt like the diaper was already a little squishy. She used a brush for several minutes, a miniature handheld battery-powered hairdryer, and then, finally, some sort of rod that I eventually decided was a portable curling iron. “Stay there,” she told me as she dug through Mom’s old hair stuff. “Good thing your mom left all of this stuff!” I tried to look at what she had, but she held my head forward, “Nope, not until I’m done, princess.” I blushed at being called ‘princess’ by my girlfriend! She peeked around, smiled at my red face, kissed me, and then went back to work. I felt her fiddle with the top layer of my hair on the backside for a few minutes before she tied something off and used a clip on top of it. “I’m not going to look bad, am I?” I asked nervously. “Of course not, silly! You’re going to look cute!” She said with a smile. “That’s what I’m afraid of?” I said, sticking my tongue out at her. She tickled my side without warning, then said, “Carly, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to look ‘cute’ no matter what you do. You look like you genuinely should be in daycare or maybe, at most, a preschool. I think the only thing you can do until you go home is embrace the look and play up to the fact that no one wants to pick on a cute little girl who is nothing but sweet to everyone.” I looked at her skeptically, but she said, “See, you look adorable.” She took a picture, and I got to see myself in three dimensions. She’d put my hair up into a half-ponytail, curled my bangs that we hadn’t gotten rid of amid everything yesterday, and then clipped what seemed like a giant bow made with Emerson colors onto the tie holding the half-pony. “My sisters would love the bow,” I sighed. “They’re cheerleaders, right?” Beth smirked. “Yes,” I stared at myself for a long moment, “You’re right, I’m adorable. I hope they let me walk around…?” “If they will, I won’t,” she smiled. Beth picked me up without warning and carried me downstairs. My tights maintained a little bit of modesty, but I knew the skirt of my jumper was creeping up higher as she carried me downstairs, and it revealed my diaper area. Grandma said when she sat me in my highchair, “Carly doesn’t normally have issues making a mess, but grab a bib for her just in case. It wouldn’t do for her to be messy on her first day?” ‘No, the only mess will just be inside my diapers?’ I thought worriedly. Far too quickly for my tastes, breakfast was over, and we soon pulled into the parking lot. Grandma approached my side of the car and let me out while Nikki reappeared from a vehicle she’d somehow gotten out to Grandma’s house the day before. “Good luck, Carly, I’ll come by your Holo Theory class to pick you up,” she told me. I blushed but accepted the hug and kiss before placing my offered backpack on my back. “There’s four diapers in there,” Grandma told me. The HoloChangers have their own supply, too, but if Beth, or someone else you trust, wants to change you, there’s some in there.” “Thanks,” I said, blushing brighter. “Actually, let me check you before you go,” Grandma said. I yelped as she reached under my uniform and then clucked, “I’m going to have to remember you’re not potty trained anymore…” She opened the hatchback of her car and hoisted me up, “Let’s get you in a dry diaper before you go to class!” Beth stood by awkwardly, waiting after flashing me a smile. Grandma was definitely experienced with changing diapers, though. She changed me faster than anyone could have since it was only wet. After a hug and a kiss, we were finally free to walk away, with Nikki following about ten feet behind us. “So, how do you want to do this?” Beth asked as we walked down the sidewalk to Kilby, where our classes were. “What?” “Do you want me to ignore the elephant in the room? Pretend you’re not diapered?” I blushed, “Or?” “Or… I help? I can check on you and change you if needed between classes?” I shrugged, “It’s up to you? I totally don’t blame you if you want nothing to do with my diapers?” I sighed, “I’m sure they’re not all going to be wet.” She laughed, “No, they won’t be.” Without warning, she picked me up, “Well, if I’m changing you, that means I can carry you to places now, too!” “What? Beth?!?” She blew a raspberry at me and squeezed me tight. “I can make certain you’re safe this way!” I groaned, “Are you turning into a Big on me?” She giggled, “Not in that way, but you are undeniably cute.” We did make better time, at least with her carrying me. My feet didn’t complain nearly as much in the new shoes then, either. They were certainly not as comfortable as tennis shoes, and even the fake dress shoes the boys had to wear seemed more comfortable to walk in. “So?” Beth asked. “So?” “What is your decision?” “You can change me… and if you’re changing me, you can carry me,” I said quietly. With a smile, she hugged me, and then we split into separate classes. ‘What the hell has gotten into her?’ I had to ask myself then! ‘Hopefully, she snaps out of it. Otherwise, I’ll have to tell her to tone it down,’ I told myself. Walking into Doctor Turing’s class, I discovered I was a little later than I usually arrived. That meant more seats were already filled, and the occupants stared at me. Doctor Turing herself turned and saw me, “Can I help you? Are you lost, sweetie?” I sighed, “Good morning, Doctor Turing; you may not recognize me, but I’m Carly… Slane?” Her eyes lit up in recognition, “Oh, well… I guess there were some changes?” “Malfunctioning nanites for a film project my group is working on,” I told her. “Sounds like a… problem?” I shrugged, “No solution right now.” “Everything else okay?” “More or less,” I said. Skylar came up then and said, “Here, let me give you a hand.” I was in the air and inside the attached highchair before I could say no. Her actions caused my jumper skirt to flare up, and I had no doubt the onesie underneath that held my diaper in place flashed everyone—no doubt with the edges of the padding visible around it, too… “You look sooooo cute!” She practically squealed, “I love your hair!” I sighed, “Thanks, Skylar.” “Let me know if you need a change after class,” she said, “I could tell you’ve had to upgrade your protection.” I wanted to bash my head against the desk then, but fortunately, Doctor Turing began lecturing instead. She went over the projects we’d submitted to her and was ripping through each one quite pointedly. “Con…Carly,” she said, “Sorry about that, Carly. Your solution works amazingly well for what I asked.” “Thanks!” I said. “There are far more efficient ways to do this, though,” she went on about how I could have saved a ton of code and resources to get the same result. With a sigh, I just took notes and tried to learn as much as possible. By the time we finished the class, my brain hurt as Professor Turing took some really crazy leaps to make the process more efficient. It all made sense, but I suspected I would need to visit her during office hours or get Grandma to help me with a couple of the pieces of information she had shared! At the end of the class, Skylar helped me down from the chair, and I found myself impressed that she didn’t just check my diaper. “Do you need help with anything?” She asked nervously. I smiled at her, “I’m good, thanks, Skylar.” BETH HAD SAT through her class, disbelieving at how she had acted that morning. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?’ she thought. She knew that Bigs could have cossetting problems; she’d seen it firsthand with her mom and friends growing up, but never had she felt like that. She blushed and reminded herself she wanted a girlfriend, not a baby! ‘Mom made both work?’ she thought before mentally smacking herself. She’d paid attention in logic design but knew she was unfocused enough that studying with Carly would help her get back on track. ‘Carly,’ she thought. As soon as her class finished, she rushed out to find Carly and found herself kneeling beside her, “Carly, I am so sorry about earlier, I don’t know what came over me?!?” Carly looked surprised by her apology but said, “It’s okay… it was a little weird though?” “I think it’s hormones, maybe?” Right then, it registered with her that her cycle was getting ready to happen. “Definitely hormones,” she said immediately after. Carly looked at her and shrugged, “You can make up for it by being my ride to class?” She whispered then, “And maybe a change?” Beth noticed Nikki then and nodded that they were moving towards a bathroom, “Let’s get the change done over at Marconi so we’re closer to class.” “How was your class?” Carly asked her as she pushed open the bathroom door. “I was really distracted…” she told her, “You caused it, so you’ll have to tutor me tonight or tomorrow,” she teased. Carly just rolled her eyes at that. Beth wasn’t as experienced as others with changing diapers. Still, she’d done it enough on her dolls growing up, as well as a few actual babies at Livy’s mom’s daycare, that she was pretty quick with getting her girlfriend out of the not-too-soaked diaper and into the new one. “You probably could have waited a while?” “Last thing I want to do is leak on the first day?” “True,” she agreed. The two split off in Marconi, and Beth knew she wouldn’t see her again until after Calculus since she and her grandparents would get her dorm switched. “She’ll get to see how it is for the girls then,” Beth groaned. She’d heard that while the boys’ nests were terrible, the girls were worse and fully infantilizing doll-making machines. ‘Maybe it’s a better place with the new rules?’ Beth shook her head, ‘Carly is in for a long day no matter what!’ Her Fields and Waves professor started lecturing right then, and she decided that one class behind was more than enough. She got her head into the lecture and made sure to pay attention. I HAD SAT through another awkward re-introduction to my professor. Still, helpfully, Carter was in my earlier class and already knew the score. He helped me into my seat and fended off a couple of would-be mommies. ‘I guess if I’m going to have one, Beth is better than the others?’ I shook my head. As soon as she said her cycle, I had no doubt what that was code for! Growing up with five women in the house taught me to avoid and comfort my sisters and moms when they got a little crazy. It helped, and didn’t help, that it was the same days on the calendar that I knew to walk on eggshells! Based on the code Beth spoke, I knew hormones were definitely doing a number on her. The changes I’d undergone placed my body in a stasis as a pre-pubescent. That meant my body shape looked far more like a child than an adult, even if I suddenly regained height on a trip back home. The only positive was that I wouldn’t have to deal with my own monthly issues. The downside is that I couldn’t have kids if I wanted to when I returned. ‘Mom figured that out,’ I reminded myself with a sigh. Truthfully, that was a significant negative in my head, even though I had no desire to have any little ones at this point! The day’s lecture focused on the emitters themselves and how they needed to be tuned to work together. Our professor didn’t just give a how-to, though. It involved mathematically precise calculations and determining the proper angles to get the particles to collide correctly and align. In short, it was precisely why I had come to the dimension! When class ended, I gathered my things and left while hearing one girl ask, “Who let their baby sister come to class today?” and another say, “Someone brought the kid they were babysitting to HoloFields? That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” I just shook my head and kept moving to the exit, where Grandma and Grandpa awaited me. “How was class?” Grandma asked. “Good!” “Ready to get this move done?” Grandpa asked, already carrying the suitcases I’d brought with me. I shook my head, “Not really, but let’s get it over with?” He gave a short laugh and agreed. Grandma didn’t ask; she just scooped me up and placed me on her side as they walked faster than I would have been able to Sanders Hall. A few friends waved at me or gave me curious looks, but most knew I had large and important grandparents by then! She carried me all the way to the elevator before setting me down. I stood patiently waiting for the elevator to take us to my floor. I followed my familiar path from the past few weeks. I discovered the two nest mothers I expected to see already in the room. Mackenzie sat in the rocking chair while Lilly sat on the bean bag. “There she is!” Lilly said, standing up and walking over to me. Without warning, she hugged me, “Oh my god! You are so pretty!!!!!!” After releasing the hug, she added, “I’m so sorry this happened to you!” I was a bit surprised by the contact, but I gave her a quick smile, “Thanks… it’s a little strange?” “I bet!” Lilly said. “Sorry, Miss Mackenzie, I guess you both already know I can’t be in your nest anymore?” I swore it looked like Mackenzie was about to cry, and she suddenly knelt down and hugged me. “I can’t believe I’m letting my best friend steal my favorite Gryphon chick!” I laughed at that but noticed she wiped a tear away. “She’s right, you’re very pretty now! Miss Lilly has promised to take good care of you, and I’ve been promised visiting rights,” she said with a smile. “She also promised me we’ll still get to swim together in the mornings so I can keep in shape!” I looked up at Lilly, who nodded, “Yes, I have no problems letting you swim still. I need my swim partner!” “Thanks,” I said. “Well, you have a class to get to, and you should probably eat lunch? Let’s get you moved out and into Miss Lilly’s nest!” A half-hour later, I had my backpack on my shoulder. Grandma had my lockbox and a couple of small shopping bags they’d filled with things. Grandpa carried a stack of two boxes of diapers and wipes. Mackenzie was holding the case of water Grandma had brought that day, and Lilly forced me to let her take my two suitcases! Compared to me, they looked like they weren’t carrying anything! Lilly’s nest was on the same floor, apparently, but in the opposite direction at the elevator. We walked down an unfamiliar hallway to a door labeled ‘The Sparkles’ with a picture of a baby unicorn in glittery multi-colored splendor. “Welcome to the Sparkle Nest!” Lilly said as we walked through the door and into what I could only describe as the most over-the-top girly room on the planet! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!! Please press the Like Button and leave a comment! (I'd hate to withhold Friday's chapter...???) 😈 So it's official: Carly is about to have a new home and new nest mommy there! And we're about to hit Chapter 100! I'm currently working on Chapter 118 and am still ahead of you all, thankfully! As I enter the next couple of months, my writing time will decrease... I am trying my best to continue to make these chapters weekly, at least until the work is finished. I'm currently just under 350k words into the storyline, and I'm guessing there's another 100k to go. (Could be more, we'll see) Hoping to pass the Exchanged trilogy before this weekend is over! Speaking of Exchanged, don't forget all of my completed works are available on Amazon Kindle! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Chapter 98: History Repeats Itself DIAPER SHOPPING WAS an experience I would have gladly skipped if asked about it. As bad as the first training pant search had been, this had seemed worse. Every female Big in the store, age thirteen and older, looked at me and cooed if I made the mistake of making eye contact! I noticed some jealous looks, but Grandma was intimidating enough to scare people away alone. Between Grandma and Beth, as soon as I was placed in the cart seat, they had been off to the races. Two packages of a brand called Monkeez and then a nighttime version of what looked like Pampers from back home were tossed in the cart. Several packs of wipes that would fit in my backpack, along with rash cream, powder, and disposal bags, all found their way into the cart before we made our way up to the front as my stomach was growling. “We skipped lunch,” Beth said, waiting beside the cart. “Yeah,” I said quietly. As we came to the checker, I expected some taunting. Still, the projected attendant just rapidly scanned everything, and we were soon on our way back home. “We’ll eat an early dinner when we get home,” Grandma said when my stomach growled as she placed me in my seat. “Thanks, I’m starving,” I told her. Beth sat beside me in the middle seat, playing with my hands occasionally as we drove. Nikki had sat in the front and decided this weekend that she wanted to remain with us despite the safety of Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Aunt Bella, Ryan, and Shelby all joined us for an early dinner. When they arrived, Beth and I were sitting on the couch. “Cute dress, Carly!” Shelby said. I smiled at her, “I’d rather not wear the toddler chic designs?” She laughed, “So why are you?” I sighed, “Because everything went wrong with the nanites again?” Beth and I explained what had gone on that week, and at the end, she said, “Well, I guess that explains the diaper.” Shelby came over and hugged me, then said, “Sorry, but you make a really cute girl?” “Dinner is ready!” Grandma called right then, and we walked into the kitchen together. I shook my head as I ate the tasty breakfast for dinner meal. ‘Now I know where Mom got that!’ Gigantic and thick waffles, bacon, sausage, and toppings for the waffles were quite plentiful. I had to give my order since I couldn’t reach anything from the high chair I was sitting in. An observer from our dimension would probably think there were four babies, a slightly older elementary girl, and a pair of grandparents if they looked at us since Bella, Ryan, Shelby, and I were all sitting in our high chairs. “Besides this minor disaster, how’s school going?” Shelby asked me. “Minor disaster?” Beth raised her eyebrows. “This seems like more than a ‘minor’ disaster?” Beth sounded annoyed. “Well, at least Carly wasn’t adopted and turned into a tummy-time infant?” Shelby shrugged, “At least by Little standards, this was definitely only a minor disaster.” My stomach turned at that, and Beth looked like she was about to blow. I winced when I realized she probably took it personally, and Shelby probably didn’t know. “Beth,” I said softly, “Shelby doesn’t mean anything by that?” “Huh?” Shelby asked. “Shelby, we’ll talk later… definitely not the right thing to say,” Aunt Bella told her in a strained, sympathetic voice. Beth, I’m sorry. Not many people know…” I could just barely reach and gently touch her shoulder since she was sitting close and did so. She sighed and said, “Sorry, I know you didn’t mean anything, Shelby.” Shelby looked at me with confusion, then at Beth, then at her mom. “Umm… Beside that… I guess school’s going well,” I said. “We’re done filming, so we just have to edit this horror down. Since we technically still have another three weeks after this until we were required to be ‘in the can,’ we’re ahead of the game?” “Are you going to have some sort of release party? I want to see this and throw popcorn at the screen or something?” Ryan said. That at least got Beth to giggle lightly. ‘She’ll be okay,’ I told myself. We went around and talked about things, and I even learned about some of Grandpa’s latest projects to occupy himself. As we finished, I was glad to see my front was clean. Shelby’s was, too, but Ryan definitely should have had a bib on. Several dropped strawberry spots were visible! Aunt Bella, though—it was a very good thing she had a bib on! ‘Grandma must have been intentionally missing her mouth!’ I thought with a shake of my head. “Mommy, once you get Carly changed, let’s have her go through the outfits I brought over?” “I’m sure we can do that, Bella, but someone else is going to need a clean change of pants, too!” she tickled the woman who was older than my mom but seemed younger than me then! Thirty minutes later, and two changed diapers later, Grandma, Aunt Bella, Beth, Shelby, and I were in my room, where fourteen boxes were stacked in front of me. They looked like high-end gift boxes, and knowing that Aunt Bella essentially catered to that clientele, I knew there was probably some nice custom clothing inside. She’d take the time to even number boxes to go through in an order. “Go ahead, open the first one!” Aunt Bella encouraged me. “You didn’t have to,” I started to say. “Nope!” She smiled at me, “None of that! I missed nineteen birthdays with my niece!” I sighed, “Okay,” and pulled open the first box. I pulled out what seemed like a massive pile of fabric. It unfolded and revealed itself to be a green Emerson University jumper dress. She had embroidered the Emerson logo on the left chest, and I saw five dresses in the stack. “Umm… thanks,” I said. “The next two boxes go with those,” Aunt Bella said. I blushed. I was excited to finally be given gifts of my very own girls’ clothes! Still, I would have preferred my first ones not to be a university uniform! I found six collared white polo onesies and six pairs of tights inside the following two boxes. “You can wear knee-high socks,” Shelby told me, “but I wouldn’t until it gets warmer. Those will work until you reach the temperatures to be allowed the slacks.” I just numbly nodded as I then opened up a box with three pairs of the girl’s slacks, which weren’t all that different than the boy’s with the elastic on the waist to easily pull them up and down, and then the additional snappies up the crotch to also allow for easy diaper changes. ‘I think the dress is actually less humiliating!’ Uniforms covered, the other boxes included a nice winter coat, mittens, a knit cap, pajamas, some coordinated casual leggings and tops, and three one-piece girls’ swimsuits. A couple of outfits looked like something Beth or a Big might wear, which I figured would probably look like I was pretending to be a big girl… But, in short, it was a good chunk of the beginnings of a wardrobe for my new status. Especially since the underwear was bought in the store on the way home… “Thank you, Aunt Bella,” I told her and leaned down to give the only adult I knew shorter than me a hug. “You’re very welcome, Carly!” She smiled. “One more box, though!” Grandma handed me one that had been hidden somewhere. I opened it and pulled out the most infantile dress I’d seen in my size outside of Meggy’s birthday party! It was yellow, with ruffles on the sleeves and skirt. On the bodice, an endless bit of embroidery detail showed it was well made - and certainly not cheap! As I held it up in the air, I realized it was also short enough that if I wore it, I would flash my diaper in any position other than standing still. “What is this?” I asked incredulously. “Oh, we’ll call it an heirloom piece,” Grandma said. “We still have to tell your mommy that you’re her little girl now.” “And this?” “It’s identical to the dress her parents got to see her in first,” she smirked. Beth looked at me with concern. I was silent for a long moment, then I began to laugh until I couldn’t breathe. “Perfect!” I coughed as I calmed down. Beth looked at me like I was crazy, but Bella told her, “Stacy is nuts. This is probably the best way to explain things to her.” Beth shook her head, “I think you are all a little nuts sometimes,” she muttered. Everyone laughed at that! Aunt Bella said, “I’ll make you some other things in the next couple of days, and I’m sure Mommy will want to take you shopping again.” I shifted a bit, wondering what was in my size that wasn’t meant for a baby! It was late enough then that Aunt Bella took Shelby home to get some sleep before she had school the following day. Grandma took me to the living room with Beth to make the call home. “Stand on my lap,” she told me with a smirk. I sighed, “She’s going to kill me?” “You have to get home first for that,” Grandma reminded me, “and by then, she’s just going to want to hug you.” I shook my head and waited for the connection to be made, and then I saw Mom, Mama, and my sisters on the other side. “Hi,” I said sheepishly. I watched the participants on the other side of the link stay absolutely still. There was a blink from Riley. Lila and Hannah both looked at each other with mouths open simultaneously. Mama just looked like she was hit in the gut with something. Mom was the first to speak. “Mom, where have you been keeping that dress?!? I told you to get rid of that!” she blushed. “And please tell me Connor isn’t wearing it for the same purpose?!?” BETH LOOKED ON as the family that let their son leave the dimension, just like their mother, was dealing with the same thing. “Sorry, sweetie, but I did have her wear it because history has repeated itself here…” “What happened?” Gabby asked, much less calm than Stacy. Carly sighed, “I told you about our film project?” The five most important people she had back home nodded, “Well, I was playing a character that has a gender change in the middle of the film and gets adopted. Our crew used a set of nanites that the theater department uses all the time for this kind of thing.” Amanda said, “They are used all the time for changes, and according to the stats I looked up, only have an issue point-oh-oh-oh-oh-one percent of the time. Even with the professor asking me to review the code, this happened.” “Of course, it would be Connor,” Riley shook her head. “Guess we have a new big sister instead?” Hannah said, sighing. “I have rather enjoyed having one boy in the house to keep us sane, though?” “I wasn’t doing a very good job of that,” Carly told them. With that, some of the tension was broken, and Amanda explained the situation. “So you have a whole mass of that protein now?” Stacy asked, concern evident in her voice. “It’s about the thickness right now that you’d expect if he... she’d been nursing for three weeks,” Amanda said. “And growing thicker by the moment.” “So diapers for the foreseeable future, huh?” Stacy asked. “Well, it’s not the worst thing, Connor. I assume you’ve already come up with a replacement name?” Amanda had pulled Carly into her lap a long while ago, “Carly,” Carly told her. “I like it!” Riley said. “Yeah,” Lila and Hannah agreed together. “It’s just like when we played together as little girls,” Riley added. “That’s what we called you then, too, right?” Beth turned to see Carly squirm but nodded, “Yes?” “Perfect then!” “So, are you normally keeping Carly dressed like this now?” Stacy asked. “No, sweetie. I just thought it might help break the ice. Unless, of course, Carly wants to wear it to school. It’ll be a dress code violation, but she’s adorable enough they might let it slide.” Beth wished she had taken a photo of Carly’s face at that moment; it was priceless! AFTER WE FINISHED with the phone call with Mom, Beth and I had decided to sit on the floor in my room and get some homework done. Occasionally, we’d talk about something, she’d ask a question, or I’d just talk. She yawned a few times, and I realized it was getting later. Without warning, she pulled me into her lap, facing her, and felt the wet diaper I was wearing. “Not staying dry very long?” I blushed, “No, and not feeling it either?” “Well, that’s not surprising; according to your grandma, you basically ended up with at least three weeks’ worth of those breastmilk proteins?” “I wonder if their milk would do anything to me now?” I said, instantly wanting to push the words back into my mouth. She giggled, “Please don’t try and find out! While I’m sure there will be no end of nest mommies wanting to pop their booby out for you, you really don’t want to get addicted to that stuff!” “Not planning on it,” I told her. “Just thinking aloud of what else could go wrong.” She squeezed me in a hug then and gave me a kiss on the lips. “As long as I have you, nothing can go wrong enough to matter.” I hugged her then, too, as some tears streamed down my face. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked me. I shrugged, “I’m kind of nervous about tomorrow, actually?” “Well, it will be a big day for you,” she agreed. “What’s got you most scared?” I shrugged, “Moving in with a new nest? Having classmates see me as a girl now? I can only imagine how the fellow exchange students will feel about that one…?” She hugged me again, “We’ll get you through all of that, I guarantee you!” I shook my head, “Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be joining me in the nest?” At her look of horror, I said, “At least I hope not.” She nodded. “I'm sorry about what Shelby said earlier,” I said after she ran her hand down my hair for a few more moments. “She didn’t know…” she said. “At least, I don’t think she does?” I shrugged, “As far as I know, she doesn’t? You’ve all kept that pretty secret from everyone? Have you ever really told anyone?” “I’ve only ever told Livy,” she told me. “Not Reila?” “I probably should at this point, but it’s not exactly the topic you just bring up?” I nodded at that. “I kind of wish you didn’t know?” I turned to look at her, “Why?” “Because it’s got to be awkward dating a woman as old as your moms?” I laughed, “The fact that you’re still willing to date me after all of this means I’ll never care about that at all!” “You know, at some point, we need to go out on an actual date…?” I looked up at her, “You’re right!” I smiled, “So what do you want to do?” “Let me think about that?” She shrugged, “I wouldn’t have risked it before. Now that I have Nikki, I might as well take advantage of the overbearing safety she offers?” I nodded. “What do you think you might want to do?” I shrugged, “I don’t know the town that well… Dinner and a movie? Some sort of show? A picnic at a park?” I hugged her, “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect!” She leaned down, kissed me again, and hugged me right before Amanda came in. “Hey, kids, I think it’s time to call it a night. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow?” We nodded, and I watched Beth go after one last hug and kiss goodnight. After Grandma changed me out of the embarrassing dress I was still wearing, along with the wet diaper, into my pajamas, she commented, “I hope it works out for you two.” “Me too,” I said. She tucked me in, “I’ll wake you up to swim in the morning, then you’ll go to your first couple of classes. We’ll go to your dorm and move you at lunch. Grandpa is going to come to help.” “ID?” I asked. “After your last class, we’re going to get your ID bracelet switched to Carly. It’s still valid right now, though.” “I’m still safe from adoption?” She shrugged, “As safe as you’ve ever been?” Sighing, she added, “Unless you are adopted, that’s always a risk, Carly.” I nodded, “That makes sense.” After a pause, I asked, “Will Lilly be okay with me coming into her nest?” “I got a message from her earlier that she’s expecting you and will have your pod all ready to go!” “Great, my crib will be ready,” I groaned. “At least they’re leaving them open now?” “True,” I agreed. “And I guess it’s not like I’ll need to get up to go potty again at night.” “No, those diapees will easily hold all you can throw at them,” Grandma said with a sad smile. She kissed my forehead, “Well, my little granddaughter, it's time for the princess to get some sleep! Good night, I love you!” “Love you too,” I replied as she left, turned off the lights, and closed the door. I tossed and turned for a long time that night before finally succumbing to sleep! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press that Like Button and leave me a comment! I appreciate all of you who have done so on the past couple of chapters! This won't happen again for a long time, but because I have some time off and have so far managed a chapter a day for the past few days, I'll offer another bonus chapter on Wednesday if you leave me 25 Likes by then! Don't forget all of my completed works are available on Amazon Kindle! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia