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Amelia and Catherine are heading out, which means a babysitter for Emily. The big baby is obviously nervous, but the babysitter has more in common with her than she thinks. --- 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 --- “Catherine!” Amelia called out, “Could you get that. I’m a little busy here.” “Give me a second.” Catherine replied from the other room. Amelia continued with the diaper change as Catherine hurried past and down the stairs. Emily heard the door open and then a stranger’s voice. She shivered with anxiety as the final tape was placed on her diaper. “Who is she?” Emily asked nervously. “Don’t worry.” Amelia replied as she rubbed the side of Emily’s face, “She’s someone I know from years ago, since college in fact, and we’ve stayed in touch. She was more than happy to help.” Emily had a lot of questions but contented herself with silence. She was taped up in the fresh diaper and then helped off the table. The onesie was popped back together and Emily almost immediately started biting her nails with nerves. “Don’t suck your thumb, baby.” Amelia said, “Here, I have something for you.” Emily watched as Amelia went across the room to a drawer which stored a lot of spare diapers. She didn’t know what her wife was getting and, to be frank, she wasn’t thinking about it. Her attention was drawn much more by the conversation she could hear downstairs. Catherine could be heard clearly, alongside a voice Emily didn’t recognise at all. “Open up.” Amelia said. Emily was so used to following commands that her mouth opened her up almost immediately. She saw her wife’s hand coming towards your face and a second later plastic was hitting her upper and lower lips. A soft silicone rested on her tongue and it didn’t take Emily long to work out she had been given a pacifier. A trail of drool escaped the corner of her mouth as she pressed her tongue against the bulb that filled a surprising amount of her mouth. “Now that is adorable!” Amelia said with a big smile. Emily was pulled into a tight hug. She thought back to a matter of weeks ago where she would never have allowed herself to be in such a situation. She was blushing but didn’t think to take the pacifier out. There was one advantage to this new accessory though as it meant she wouldn’t be expected to say anything. “Right, no point wasting more time.” Amelia said as she took Emily’s hand. Amelia walked forwards and clearly expected Emily to follow. However, even though the idea of being disobedient worried her, Emily remained on the spot. Amelia turned around and looked at her. Looking at the ground Emily expected to be punished for not doing as she was told, a warning was the least she would get, surely. “I don’t want to go downstairs.” Emily said quietly around the pacifier bulb. Her voice was quiet and strangely muffled by the object in her mouth. “I know it’s scary.” Amelia said. She reached out and stroked Emily’s face, “But trust me, everything will be fine.” “But I look like…” Emily turned her head to the mirror in the corner of the room, “A baby…” Emily half-expected Amelia to try to say she was wrong. But that would have been a laughable argument to try and make. Emily was clearly diapered, wearing a onesie and had a pacifier in her mouth which she was busy drooling around. Instead, Amelia simply held her hand and stepped up next to her so she was appearing in the mirror as well. “I know.” Amelia said softly. She paused for a second, “Did you know it’s our anniversary today?” Emily’s eyes popped open. She wouldn’t have said that she forgot the anniversary, it was more that she didn’t really keep her attention on the date at all. Unfortunately, for Emily, this was nothing new. Before all this stuff had started Emily rarely remembered their special day, it was even less often that she did anything special for it. “It’s alright.” Amelia chuckled when she saw Emily’s panicky expression, “But, whilst I have a date tonight, I haven’t forgotten you.” “What do you mean?” Emily mumbled around the pacifier. “You’ll see.” Amelia’s eyes twinkled slightly as she smiled. Emily felt Amelia’s hands take hold of her face. Amelia looked so beautiful and Emily’s face was tilted so she was facing her. Amelia leaned in and kissed Emily on the lips. It was enough to make Emily melt like putty into her wife’s hands. The kiss was broken and Emily looked away feeling embarrassed for some reason. Emily felt herself blushing even harder but as Amelia squeezed her hand she started to follow her wife to the top of the stairs. Emily’s knees shook as they started walking downstairs. She sucked hard on the pacifier which she found slightly calming, it gave her something other than her current situation to think about. The closer they got to the living room the more she heard herself whining slightly. The door was opened and Emily was pulled forwards. She kept her face down as the conversation stopped and she felt all eyes turning towards her. The longer she waited for someone to speak the thicker her diaper felt, the more obvious her babyishness seemed to shine. “Davina, this is Emily.” Amelia said. “Hello Emily.” Davina said, “It’s nice to meet you.” Emily forced herself to look up. She had never seen Davina before and had no idea what she had in common with Amelia. She was sitting down but was clearly taller and stronger than any of the other women in the room. She had long platinum blonde hair and a gorgeous, almost model-like, face. She was smiling, it was clearly genuine and, to Emily’s surprise, she didn’t seem at all surprised by her appearance. “Say hello.” Amelia prompted Emily who was still staring. Not wanting to speak Emily raised a hand and gave a little wave before quickly looking back down. She was pretty sure she would’ve felt less exposed and vulnerable if she was completely naked. She heard Amelia chuckling beside her. “She’s shy.” Emily could hear Amelia’s grin through her tone of voice, “But don’t worry, she’s very friendly. I’m sure you’ll both get on swimmingly. You have a lot in common.” Amelia let go of Emily’s hand and the diapered woman immediately reached out to try and grab it again. She felt like she was being unmoored. That her last link with safety was being severed as Amelia walked over to the couch where Catherine was sat. “Ready?” Amelia asked her girlfriend. Emily looked up with panic in her eyes. They were really just going to leave her there right away. She didn’t know this woman! “I think so.” Catherine said. She wasn’t looking at Amelia though, she was looking at Emily, “Are you OK, Emily?” For the first time in weeks Emily thought about defying Amelia. She thought about leaping forwards and wrapping her arms around her, to beg her not to leave. The “B” word started circling around her head. She didn’t want to be a burden, she didn’t want to ruin a date between Catherine and Amelia, but she was so worried! “If you don’t want us to go out you can just say so.” Catherine said using her patented therapist voice. Emily saw Amelia’s face fall slightly. She clearly expected Emily to put a stop to everything and to mess up her night out. Even though she was scared, Emily hated to see her wife looking upset, she couldn’t make that happen. She reached up and pulled her pacifier out of her mouth. A long line of drool trailed between the pacifier’s bulb and her mouth. “I’ll be OK.” Emily practically whispered. She pushed the pacifier back in quickly, almost as if she was worried that if she left her mouth unfilled she would suddenly change her mind. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Davina said from the couch, “Enjoy yourselves.” Everyone said their goodbyes. Emily swallowed hard as Amelia and Catherine left the room and a second later walked out the front door. She couldn’t hear what was being said but Catherine seemed to be talking quite animatedly to Amelia about something. The door closed and silence fell. Emily continued to face the doorway. “It’s nice to meet you.” Davina said again. Emily remained silent though she did at least turn to face her babysitter. She wasn’t sure what to do. The playpen was right next to her but she felt embarrassed. This was the first person to see her like this outside of their little family. She wasn’t sure how this woman wasn’t just outright laughing at her. “You’ve got no reason to be nervous.” Davina said, “I’m ABDL too, it’s all cool with me.” ABDL? Emily wasn’t sure what Davina was talking about. Her tone was friendly though. Emily felt that she wasn’t under any threat, she didn’t think Amelia would leave her alone with a stranger if she wasn’t sure they would be safe. There was another awkward silence. Emily just didn’t know what to say to this person. “So, what do you do for fun?” Davina asked conversationally. “Pway.” Emily lisped around the pacifier. She blushed and pulled the soother out of her mouth, “Play.” “Cool!” Davina replied. She seemed delighted that Emily had responded at all, “What sort of games do you play?” Emily didn’t understand. Why wasn’t this woman making fun of her? Why was she acting like there wasn’t a fully grown woman in her mid-twenties in front of her dressed like a baby. Emily just vaguely pointed at the dolls she often created little stories with. Davina nodded her head. After a couple of seconds Emily stepped into the playpen and awkwardly sat down next to the dolls. Playing was something she had got used to in recent times but doing it in front of another person was hard even when that person was Amelia or Catherine yet alone a stranger. “What are their names?” Davina asked. “Huh?” Emily frowned. “Your dolls.” Davina nodded towards the small plastic figures. “Oh, erm, I don’t know…” Emily muttered around the pacifier. She pulled it out of her mouth, “I guess they don’t have names.” “No names!” Davina acted shocked, “But everybody needs a name!” Emily looked up at Davina. She couldn’t tell if she was making fun of her. She seemed genuine but she was talking to her as if she was the baby she looked like. Maybe she shouldn’t even fight it, after all she looked and sounded like one. No one seemed to expect her to do anything grown up, so why not just accept her place. Was that something she could do? Was it something she SHOULD do? She was supposed to be an adult. For the next little while Emily played with her dolls. At first, she was bashful and only doing it half-heartedly but Davina was very good at making it all feel almost normal. She asked questions about the stories Emily was acting out and even made suggestions to enhance the story. It wasn’t long until Emily was practically putting on a little show using the dolls as puppets. For a good twenty minutes Emily acted out a story in front of the woman who was quickly feeling like much less of a stranger. “That’s great.” Davina said with a little applause when one little scene finished, “But could you come over here for a minute?” “Hmm?” Emily muttered. Davina waved Emily forwards. She was standing outside the playpen patting the bars in front of her. Emily shuffled forwards on her knees and then stood up to waddle forwards. She wasn’t sure what the babysitter wanted but as soon as she was in front of the bars Davina reached down and cupped her hand underneath Emily’s diaper. Without thinking she spread her legs and pushed her crotch out a little in front of her. It was a well-practiced position for diaper checks. “Oh, baby, you’re very wet!” Davina said with a big smile. “I am?” Emily frowned. “You didn’t know?” Davina asked with raised eyebrows. Emily slowly shook her head. She had known she was wet from the way her diaper hung between her legs but she didn’t really remember peeing. It happened so often she had stopped paying attention to when she needed to go, but now that Davina had called attention to it, she could feel that her padding was indeed soaked. “We’ll have to get you changed.” Davina said as she pulled her hand back and walked around to the gate of the playpen. Emily felt her heart hammer a little faster. This woman was undoubtedly hot, she was like a bombshell as she held the gate open for Emily to come through. Emily had never been changed by someone other than Amelia or Catherine but this strange babysitter seemed not to have the slightest hesitation. Emily started slowly shuffling forwards. “Good girl.” Davina said. Emily felt that familiar swell of pride when she heard those magic words. She blushed, it was one thing responding to them when it was someone, she knew using them, it was something else altogether when it was a stranger. Especially one as pretty as Davina. She tried not to let it show how pleased she was by the compliment. --- 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/mcr41ehi6ffa6738 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1945715

Hey everyone! Hope everyone had a great Fourth of July here in the states, and I hope everyone else just had a good last few days themselves. Personally, it was a little hot and buggy, but I still maintain that everyone turns into an eight-year-old when the fireworks start going off. I see it all the time, and I always wonder who out there could be reading stories like this one or any of the others… and how many would if they just gave them a try. Regardless, we’re moving on here with the second to last chapter. As I stated before, the last chapter will come out sometime on Monday, July 07. It’s already fleshed out and I just need to do a big edit on it as well as calculate the final tally for the next story. Speaking of which… just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapters 2 and 14. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. So, just to reiterate, this poll will be shut down sometime on Monday before I post my next story, so if you haven’t voted yet… do it soon! Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this penultimate chapter! Chapter 27: Wait For It… Day 134 – 10:57 A.M. MDT – Earth 2 “Wha… what?” Ashley asked in disbelief. She couldn’t put a lot together lately with even basic things, but this played in her head like a remembrance of an old dream. ‘Okay… I need a minute, but… woah! A plan coming from Mo… Betty who wants to help me and Brother who was originally going to get me to escape? This oughta be good!’ She leaned in closer to hear the plan after looking behind her shoulder… just in case another Little or attendant had snuck up behind her. “A plan? What plan?” “Well, it’s simple, sweetie,” Betty noted. “I saw you acting very strange since you were taken by the facility. I thought it was just what those butchers did to you, but then the pink rock… I saw that and that you didn’t have any understanding of it. It was something I knew you knew about, but the way you were looking at it… it was like you were almost looking through it… like it wasn’t even there.” “I was?” Ashley bit her bottom lip and was clearly trying to puzzle it out, but that spot was still a blank. Betty nodded. “You were. It was too strange, but… I honestly thought that the you I had come to love was gone and in its place was a new version… someone who was my babygirl and called me Mommy.” She paused and took a breath… all this change and information clearly charged with emotion. “But then the other day you called me Betty again…” Ashley winced at that information. ‘Darn it! I knew that hurt her! I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just passed it off as a mistake. I… Betty isn’t my mommy but… I don’t want to hurt her!’ “It’s okay, Ash. Really,” she emphasized before sighing, almost as if she could read Ashley’s fraught mind. “I have no right to keep you as my regressed Little if you aren’t already that. So, I made it my mission to figure out what was happening to you on my own. I knew that LRG had a presence in town… then add that with the pink rock and daycare telling me about a stranger possibly watching you the other week… I put it all together and...” “And found me,” Brother noted with no small amount of annoyance. “I couldn’t believe it! Three years in this town alone and one Little’s Big finds me in less than two days!” Betty smirked back at Brother. “Well, it wasn’t easy if it makes you feel any better…” She then turned back to Ashley. “Anyways, I found him, and we got to talking… Sweetie… Ashley… we need to get you out of here.” Her words were straightforward and there was no need to interpret them, but there was still seemingly a conflict within Ashley. “Wait… get out of here? As in…?” “As in go back home, Ash,” Brother finished for her after she paused for a moment, appearing like she was getting stuck on the concept now. “I know it might be more difficult than before for you, but we now have a Big on our side. That’s huge!” Betty nodded adamantly. “That’s right. I listened to his plan before and it might have worked, even with the enhanced security after this summer, but with my help… we can be sure to get you out of here now.” Ashley smiled and seemed to appreciate the gesture and plan of action from both Betty and Brother, but there was still a great deal of hesitation in her eyes… and it was hard to blame her. While her memory was still fuzzy in spots, as reported nightly, she was remembering vast sums of her life… and a healthy distrust of Bigs and shadowy figures were two shaky grounds to put any amount of trust in. ‘Crud… no doubt that hundreds… thousands of Littles have found themselves in my spot right now. They trusted who they thought they should and bam! They go further down in their regression and never resurface… sometimes literally!’ Ashley’s expression narrowed. “I appreciate it… but what kind of reassurance do I have here or at least…” She turned to Betty. “Why are you getting me out? I’ve seen your looks. If I had any money to bet with, I’d bet it all that you would want me to stay. How can I trust that this isn’t a trap now?” Betty sighed and nodded her head before even holding Brother back. It seemed she needed to get something off her chest before anything else. “You’re right… you’re absolutely right, Ashley. But also… that’s why you have to leave.” “Huh?” Ashley seemed struck dumb with pure confusion. Betty leaned into the gate and gestured behind Ashley. “You’re a Little and you just need to look at your friends to see what will happen to you one day if you stay in this town any longer… or even what happened to you before to know. Bigs are just too tempted and too crafty to be trusted with your well-being here as a Little.” She then looked down and it seemed her pained heart weighed a great deal today. “But… you are right as well. I want you to stay, but… sometimes caring for someone means doing what’s best for them… even if that means letting them go. Now that I’ve taken my own feelings out of this… I can see that Peirama is no longer a safe place for you. I may not be your mommy anymore, but… I would still be devastated if anything were to happen to you.” Ashley was about to speak, but she had apparently lingered behind the cluster of trees and bushes for too long now. “Ash! You get lost in there, or something?” Ron called out. “It’s just a ball! Come on, slow poke!” His youthened patience was clear and the pressure from others came through as well. For Ashley, it was a reminder, but for Brother and Betty, it sounded like a warning more than anything else. “Come on, Betty. We gotta go,” Brother insisted. “You don’t want an attendant catching us back here.” Betty nodded and turned to Ashley. “Okay, sweetie. We have to go.” Ashley nearly flung herself at the fence. “Wait! I…” “Ash?” Ron seemed more concerned than annoyed or impatient now. Knowing him, his imagination was likely conjuring up all manners of evil that had befallen her. Ashley winced and looked at Betty. “I gotta go, but… what’s next here?” Brother stepped back into the deep shadows once more. “We will meet next Monday at your house while Pete is at work to discuss the plans further. I will coordinate the details with Betty further.” Betty hopped in before disappearing as well. “Two last things… don’t mention this to Pete, but also… try to blend in and act normal… here and until Monday. Promise?” Ashley held up her hand like she was reciting an oath. “Promise.” The two then completely disappeared, Ashley retrieved the ball and ran back to join Ron… just as Miss Fiona was walking over. “Get lost, sweetie?” the attendant asked with an unusually stern and more than a little concerning suspicious glance. Ashley shook her head. “No. I just…” She held up the ball. “It got stuck and…” She wobbled her arms up and down like they were made of spaghetti. “Not long enough!” Miss Fiona sighed, but ultimately smiled and patted Ashley to rejoin Ron and Olly… seemingly none the wiser that Ashley had just met up with Brother and Betty… and was now planning to escape. * * * Day 138 – 10:39 A.M. MDT – Earth 2 Ashley looked around the locker room at the rec center that Betty had taken her to today. The days were getting shorter and colder even with Peirama’s weather device. It meant the community pool was now closed and all Littles who could, or were allowed to by their Bigs, were now headed to the rec center for their swimming test to determine their future as swimmers here. Safety was always a top concern, and the rec center was no different. Ashley blushed heavily as Betty slipped on the disposable swim diaper up her legs. “Just one moment, sweetie. Can’t have you going in the pool without one of these.” Ashley could only stand there and nod. Her one piece of solace afterward was that her swimsuit… though the bulge in the crotch and butt was very obvious of what she was wearing underneath, could have been worse. Her one piece dark purple and pink flamingo patterned swimsuit was childish… especially with the elastic so prominent around the leg holes, but looking around, it could have been much worse. Being the first of many swimming tests, many of her friends were here in similar attires… except those seemed to be designed to be as childish as possible. Hers at least had dignity, but for example, Marilyn’s was a floral pink and lime green one piece with a tutu-like dress around her midsection. Other of the female Littles had two pieces and would show off their scars, diapers, or would just plainly sport logos or cartoon characters any mature person would never be seen in. Of course, there were also the ones that had managed to run away and were now being chased by their Bigs… the Littles completely nude and not giving one care about that fact. “I don’t know if I can do this…” Ashley moaned as Betty pulled up the last of the straps over her shoulders. “It’s very, easy, Ash,” Betty replied, laying her hands gently on her Little’s shoulders. “You just hop in, swim a little back and forth, and then tread water. Easy peasy.” Ashley shook her head. “No… not that. I meant…” She leaned and whispered. “The blending in thing.” Betty pursed her lips and nodded in understanding. “Oh, I see. Well… you just do your best. No need to suck your thumb or cry all the time, but if others splash, then go for it. Play along with the others, don’t cause a fuss, and just try to have fun. Don’t overthink it.” Ashley sighed as she caught a Little being splayed out on one of the nearby benches getting their diaper changed, again, without a care in the world. “Easier said than done.” Betty sighed and nodded, giving Ashley one last little squeeze on her shoulders before standing up and removing her bathing suit cover. Underneath was a dark blue one piece that sported a few small golden anchors on the chest and one near each hip. “Wait… you’re swimming too?” Ashley looked up at her Big with her mouth nearly completely open in shock. Betty chuckled. “Well, yes! Remember, you’re in the toddler class for the swimming test for Littles. You might still be like a duck to water here, but others… hard to know what their skill level is anymore or what could freak them out at the drop of a hat.” “Oh…” It was obvious that Ashley hadn’t thought about any of that, and looking around at her friends, it was hard not to remember who they used to be. Ron had been so strong and proud, Olly had been a pain and studious, and even Marilyn or Simon had been independent and intelligent or even rebellious. Now, all were Littles. All were diapered. All were in a swimming class now meant for toddler Littles. Betty smiled tenderly and stretched out her hand. “Come on. I promise… it won’t be bad. You’ll see…” Ashley nodded and sighed. ‘Geesh. I know she means well, but… why do I feel like she’s acting the mother to me right now? I know its just who she is but…’ Ashley shook her head and took Betty’s hand. ‘No, no. Just do this and make it until Monday. Take a breath and… oh!’ Ashley grimaced as she started to walk and caught her reflection in the mirror. She may have been the most mature Little there, but in the image reflected back at her, the swimsuit and bulge of the diaper she knew about… but she definitely hadn’t realized that a little bit of the swim diaper was also going to stick out prominently from her leg holes. As she exited the door, she tried in vain to cover herself up. * * * Day 138 – 10:56 A.M. MDT – Earth 2 Entering the main pool area, the area was surprisingly large for the smaller town of Peirama. Apparently, water experiments may have been conducted in the vicinity at one point, but now, the large area was essentially split into three parts. The first was the 20-foot-deep end for the diving boards perched above it. The second was the play area and contained a lazy river, multiple slides, fountains, and splash pads. Lastly, the final was divided into two sections most of the time, with a deep cordoned off into lap lanes and the second being shallower in one end and slightly deeper in the other. This is where Betty guided Ashley. Listening in to other Littles, it only took seconds for Ashley to realize that it was all about swimming lessons. “Awww! Come on… do I have to?” Betty sighed and pushed her closer to the main instruction group… all full of Littles. “Yes, you do. It’s getting colder and soon, even around here with our climate controlled, all the pools will close, and we will come here. Any Little coming here… no matter their mental age, is required to take this course. So, please…” She then lowered the volume of her voice into a near whisper. “Like we discussed, at least for appearances-sake, just play along.” Betty sighed heavily but nodded and sat down with the other Littles in front of a large whiteboard. A whistle then blew loudly and out walked Miss Pearl… much to most of the Little’s clear confusion. “Hello, everyone! It’s so nice to see you outside of daycare!” “Miss Pearl?” Ron questioned with a funny look on his face. “Are you our instructor? Aren’t you our daycare teacher instead?” Miss Pearl laughed light-heartedly. “Why, yes, Ron. I am your daycare teacher but I’m also an instructor here on my time off. I was part of the Libertalia Olympic swim team a few years ago in fact. Now though, with my skills from daycare, I usually make the perfect instructor for all you Littles to make sure you’re okay with coming here to swim.” “Including those of us who can already swim?” Olly asked annoyedly. From her look, it seemed like Ashley exhibited the same level of annoyance. Miss Pearl nodded her head. “Of course, Olly. While we trust you to have the skills maybe from even a month ago, we also know that many of you have changed since your first came to Peirama.” She paused and looked a little devious for a moment. “Do me a favor… can anyone who’s felt they changed physically since they first came here, please raise your hand?” While her words seemed more for adults, her question about loss of something seemed to resonate with nearly everyone. Every Little, including Olly, raised their hand. With Miss Fiona’s point well-made, he soon shirked away “Now then, let’s get you all to dip a toe into the shallow end of the pool.” Her attention then directed to the Bigs behind the Littles. “Bigs? Guide your Little into the water. Regression can have odd effects on Littles. Some of them may be scared of the water now, and it’s up to you to support them in this transition period.” Following along as well, Betty soon got behind Ashley as they waded into the shallow end… first a few inches and then up about two feet of water. “Still okay?” Betty asked with more than a little hope and caution. Ashley sighed. “Yes. I’m fine.” She almost gave a bad attitude towards Betty but was stopped looking over at another Little who was already in another daycare. ‘Woah… I thought that guy loved the water. Now…’ Much to Ashley’s evident horror, the Little was thrashing all about in the water. Their self-proclaimed mommy tried everything, but the Little soon went into a near-meltdown. Fortunately, they were the only ones to freak out, so after a little consoling and special instruction for them, Miss Pearl stood in the water in front of everyone else and continued. “Perfect! You’ve just taken your first test to pass to come here as much as you want. Now…” She pointed to the whiteboard that another worker had brought to the edge. Since I’ve got you all in the pool, we can now talk about the rules.” She pointed out and explained several of them, and there were several that were typical like no running around the pool or diving in the shallow ends. Looking further though, there was one section that seemed different. “Okay,” Miss Pearl continued, “with those done, we need to talk about access for you Littles.” She looked around and shook her head. “Since none of you are or have independent Littles, all of these will apply. So… six inches of water… any Little is free to play. No Big supervision is required.” She paused and went to the next. “One foot of water… a Big needs to be within 15 feet of their Little. From this point onward, all of you will need to pass the swimming test at the end of this class. Regardless… two feet… and a Big will need to be within five feet or still 15 feet if you use floaties.” Several Littles, including Ashley, looked at their Bigs. For some, like Olly and Ron, looked at their Bigs with determination that they would definitely be using floaties to get the extra space with more humiliation… which they probably didn’t care about. For Ashely though, based on her near snarl at the prospect of the use of floaties, it was a look that they would do anything but floaties here. Miss Pearl chuckled a little. “Well… I guess for those of you who want them but moving on.” She then gestured to the last two lines. “Three feet or higher… a Big will need to be holding onto the Little or be within five feet of their Little. Four feet or higher though… and Littles are completely banned or the use of floaties are absolutely required. Now… any questions?” Ashley blinked at the board and then around the pool. Despite being ‘Little friendly,’ seeing the signs posted in the three areas, it was obvious that no floaties meant a lack of access to at least a third… if not more, of the pool. ‘Hmmm I wonder if that’s on purpose to divide the Littles and the Bigs… or if this really just is a safety thing?’ With Miss Pearl continuing to talk though, Ashley quickly concentrated on the lesson once more. * * * Day 138 – 12:19 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Miss Pearl was a firm, but fair and cautious daycare attendant, and that readily transferred over into her abilities as a swimming instructor of the Littles. After a quick instruction, lunch, and then break, while belittling in many cases, she made sure to go through the steps with caution… ensuring every Little could progress together. It was curious when the initial sign-up paperwork had questioned the mental and physical abilities of the Little in question, but now it was obvious. For those older or less regressed the lesson would have been boring and they likely would have goofed off, disrupted the others and gotten into trouble… or just simply derail the entire lesson. For example, if an adult has had their mind regressed to something of a pre-teen, they could get into all kinds of mischief and even potentially hurt those with toddler mindsets. On the flipside, Littles registering as ‘newborns’ could be subjected to too hard of tests and potentially harm themselves. After all, as per their design… accidental or otherwise, body movements could be spastic and muscle tone weak at best. They needed constant support and while ‘newborn’ for Littles could sometimes be applied to any Little with the mental or physical abilities under four months, a pool environment could be downright deadly if not cared for properly. Being blunt, the pamphlet for the rec center described their lessons as more ‘how to float’ or ‘how to automatically go to the edge of the pool.’ Which, for them at least, translated into more of… delay as much as possible until an adult can rescue you easier. So, for Ashley’s group, the margins were fairly wide for whoever was accepted. Simon, who still consistently drooled and sported a wide and unfocused look most of the time, was on the younger end of the spectrum and required more input from his mommy, Sharon. On the other end though, Ashley could almost be classified into the higher spectrum of Littles… but her cover from previously still had to be maintained, so she mainly just used betty’s support as something of a comfort… rather than a necessity in her lessons. Per the swimming instructions, once the Littles were acclimated to the water, including submerging and getting splashed, they were taught getting in and out with practice entering and exiting the pool using the ramp, steps, and sides of the pool, with a particular emphasis on their safety. Like the younger class, they also practiced holding onto the side of the pool, but for them, this also involved using a floating device. For some, it was to build their confidence in the water again, but for Ashley, it was a chance to practice her other skills and mostly just relax. “You know, you’re really good at this,” Betty praised, almost seemingly forgetting that Ashley wasn’t a ‘true Little’ anymore. Ashley still smiled though. “Thanks… I always loved to swim and it’s just never something I forgot. Even before…” She looked around as she floated on the boogie board. “Well… you know.” Betty’s face clearly then just remembered that Ashley was ‘pretending’ now outwardly. She didn’t say anything about it… but there was almost a little sadness as well. If it wasn’t obvious before, Ashley leaving was still tough on Betty. “So… any thoughts on after?” Ashley practiced her flutter kicks… the next lesson that several of the more toddling Littles were having a problem with. “No… I… I want to continue with what I did before and…” She trailed off for a moment. ‘Shoot. Almost blew my cover there. Betty knows that I want to escape and is helping me, but… I don’t think she knows I’m Ashley Cutters… only Jones… the personal trainer.’ Ashley cleared her throat for a moment. “But… I might take time off work for a while… government assistance programs back home can help me a lot to regain…” She shifted and her swim diaper shifted as well… a current reminder that yes, she was going to have to do some reacclimating to the world when she got back to Earth. She then shook her head. “But… explore. Definitely explore like Europe or something.” “Oh?” Betty seemed surprised, but not in a way that she didn’t know what or where Europe was… only that she was shocked of her destination. “I’ve heard its very nice there. Very similar to our own Europa… even more than Libertalia is to the U.S.” Ashley only managed to nod before Miss Pearl called everyone back in. “Okay everyone! Now, we need to practice some of the skills you all will be using for your practice swim test. Then, you all will take it, and we’ll see where we are. Anyone who manages to pass it will be free to either practice more or I have some games you can play to help your skills more. For those who don’t pass, you’ll stay with me, and we can work harder on the skills you need to pass.” Everyone nodded at her instruction, but it was clear that some Littles were much more apprehensive than others about the prospect of a swim test so soon. * * * Day 138 – 12:57 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 The practice and swim test were easy… or at least they were easy for Ashley. First up was jumping into a pool and then immediately going to the side to cling on. Second, was to tread water for about a minute, and then third was to swim just one length of the pool. Ashley had a little trouble with swimming the length of the pool, but she managed it without the offered floaties. Not that the test was designed to fail Littles, but there was a certain expectation of struggle… one that Ashley hadn’t exhibited in any real sense, other than maybe being slightly out of shape or just not used to swimming for so long. Plus, doing it all without any floaties, per her choice, was another item that some gave her the side eye over. No one really cared, but when most of the Littles were floundering by the forty second mark at best in treading water or had trouble making it halfway without the floaties on their first attempt… Ashley stood out. Regardless though, she passed. So, her name was recorded down in the rec center’s records, and she and Betty were able to leave and enjoy the rest of the pool. Using the floaties though, which was also marked down, Ron and Olly soon joined her… as the only other two Littles to pass in at least the first two attempts with or without the floaties. “Whew! Talk about a challenge, huh?” Olly asked, gliding over and into the knee-deep water around the mushroom fountains stretching high over their heads. “Yeah… I could barely tread the water for thirty seconds without the floaties on,” Ron commented, giving his still adorned floaties a light squeeze before looking questioningly at Ashley. “What gives, Ash? You some kind of super Little?” Ashley squinted and shook her head. “No… what are you talking about? It’s just a swim test… we did all that stuff earlier in the summer… remember?” Ron scratched his head while Olly nodded. “Yeah, Ash. I remember, but… that was a long time ago. None of us were in swim diapers and… well, a lot has happened since then.” “Oh…” It was right then that it was clear that Ashley had realized her mistake. Again, there were no alarms or sirens going off in her success, but it still was an awkward pause that Ashley was different. ‘Crud. This secrecy thing is going to be harder than I thought! Totally didn’t think about that. Special or advanced is fine, but standing out when I’m going to try and leave? Not good…’ Ashley twirled her wet hair and stepped closer to Ron and Olly like she had a secret. “Well… aliens kidnapped me, and they wanted me to become their queen. I said no and they gave me super-secret powers.” She held her finger up to her lips as she recalled a small story her friend had made up when they were kids. “Shhh! Kingda Korona might return, and they can’t know about me!” “Oh…” Ron’s eyes widened, and he nodded before at first silently promising with a few gestures to not reveal her secret. “Won’t tell nobody, Ash… Shhh…” Olly didn’t comment at all, but he had a knowing look on his face. He was regressed… having experienced a lesser version of the white cream which had so affected so many others, but he wasn’t as severe. Definitely not an adult status and he had been in diapers for longer than Ash… but there was an awareness there… likely one that could see through the act that Ashley had just put on. But… he was also a good friend to Ashley still and before they went back to splashing around without a care in the word, in a solemn gesture, he simply pinched his fingers and made a gesture to seal his lips. He knew, but his silence would remain firm. Ashley couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief after… only covered up by the loud roar of the tall fountain mushrooms all around them. * * * Day 138 – 1:49 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Splashing around and going down the slides. That was what made up the next hour of Ashley’s life. There was a simplicity to it that the journalist had to find appealing… at least from the peals of laughter coming from her. She was ‘mature’ again, but there was something almost of a release in her since her capture… whether she knew it or not. Before, she was all business. Everything in her life was for her story back on Earth. Playtimes? Just a means to get with other Littles. Dressing up how Betty suggested or even requested sometimes? A necessity to blend in better and to ease what she could when she could in order to better acclimate and interview other Littles. It was all designed for her story. Now, though, the line between the adult journalist and the regressed Little seemed to blur. Not so much that black and white were mixed in a new gray color, but just enough where if one was to not notice some of the subtle hints of non-regression, Ashley might have just seemed like any other Little. What distinguished her though, something that not even Betty was going to take away from her… were her thoughts. While unbeknownst to the world at large, at times, they were powerful and all telling… like when some of the Littles left for a nap or at least paused for a feed… like Ron. Nearly alone, Ashley placated herself by getting on an innertube and floating through the center’s lazy river. Of course, rules being rules, Betty wasn’t far behind. She would occasionally speak up, but there was a reservation about her now that seemed to check all her actions. Whereas before, she would simply do something, there was now a pause. Likely, in the case of joining her directly in a double innertube on the lazy river, she paused and gave the ‘mature’ Little her space. Without the others, while she didn’t show any changes outwardly, Ashley was readily thinking about home… and what that meant. ‘My job… responsibilities… it all sounds so nice and yet so distant still. Here I am on a lazy river in swim diaper that is on me for a reason. I can’t simply push past that and think that I get on the other side of the portal and everything will be okay. Maybe a month ago, I could have believed that, but now? It seems more like a fantasy… How do I go back and live the life I once did?’ The thoughts that swirled around in her mind could to some be misconstrued as poisonous to someone ‘undercover’ and drown them in sorrow or confusion, but for Ashley, her thoughts were her saving grace. Being in deep for so long now, she was about to pass the point where others would come looking for her… but her thoughts were also natural for someone away from their previous life so long. While Betty was no jailer and her treatment here for the most part could almost seem luxurious, doubts about going back plagued her mind like they sometimes did for prisoners of war. The desire to go back was there, but the execution of doing so now seemed in doubt. ‘Could I even live on my own anymore? And… is there every really a true going back to how things were?’ Floating along though, her thoughts were soon interrupted by Ron, Olly, and a few of the other Littles joining her once more now that more had passed. Others though, like Kyle, were still lagging behind with Miss Pearl. “Hey, Ash! We were just talking about Halloween! What are you going as?” Ron asked. “We all had bets on what it is you’d be.” “Simon’s a dog, Ron’s a cowboy, Marilyn’s a princess, and I’m an astronaut,” Olly clarified, only to have Simon clear his throat that was somehow also mixed with a whine. “Sorry… Simon is going as a doggy.” Ashley stared back at her current group of friends… all of whom had just come from their quick nap, feed, or diaper change. In truth, she hadn’t given the matter much thought. In the urgency of Brother and Betty, leaving Peirama seemed to be something to happen within the week, and given that it was Saturday and Halloween was all the way next Friday… she had only one passing thought. It was the reason for her being here… the reason for Peirama in the first place… the reason why she had changed… and the reason her story was now going to have weight behind it. So, she blinked a few times and said her answer plainly. “Scientist.” * * * Day 139 – 3:35 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Ashley sat in her room and bounced Bunty over to the plastic doll that one of Ron’s coworkers had gotten her a few weeks ago while she was still regressed. Despite her faculties coming back… at least mostly, the doll held a special place in her heart. It was a constant source of embarrassment, but ‘Cindy’ was loyal and had been there for her when she was needed. She was the type that kindergarteners might like with her fake features, flow hair, and several clothes… something of which Ashley had almost once liked. While Marilyn had tried to get Ashley to bring her back to daycare, Ashley had so far refused. Cindy was now a private doll to play with Bunty… and Bunty was a whole different matter. Bunty was a shield… a shoulder to cry on when no one else was around… and a friend that never judged her no matter what. Besides Betty and even Pete… no one else had more loyalty towards Ashley. Yes, the Little now knew she was just a stuffed animal, but Bunty was still almost always with Ashley wherever she went these days. Even yesterday at the pool, Bunty was in the car. Ashley sighed and bounced Bunty towards Cindy. “Well, Cindy… I wonder how much longer we’ll be together. I like you but… I don’t know how it would look like if I brought two toys back with me.” Ashley shuddered and hugged Bunty tight. “One… well, I just can’t give Bunty up.” More and more now… Ashley was thinking of her future… of escape. “Tomorrow…” she sighed wistfully. “I just have to wait until tomorr…” “Blast it, Pete!” a voice yelled from downstairs… one that was now all too familiar to Ashley. ‘Oh no… not again…’ Ashley propped up Cindy and grabbed Bunty tight before creeping over to the top the stairs once more. Sitting down on the top step, Ashley whispered to Bunty. “Betty’s out on some errands and Da… Pete is talking to the general again…” “I said no, general,” Pete noted firmly. “But you two are doing nothing with her!” the general shot back. “She’s one of the more unique Littles around here in a long time between what you all did for her and what Mr. Vasiliou subjected her to. Plus, I know her mind is more malleable now than ever… or did you think I didn’t know about your little late-night visits to the facility?” “I didn’t hide anything, and you know it,” Pete defended himself and his actions. “I merely didn’t inform you and… she’s mine and Betty’s Little! Our treatment of her… unless we use a facility drug… is no one else’s concern.” “But Beakerman wants a new Little!” The general now seemed to be getting more than a little irate. “You know her and how her mother was… they want something, and they’ll do most anything to get it… including your Little.” Several heavy footsteps could be heard before the door creaked open. “You can see yourself out, general. Your visit was… well, it’s always good to see you, but I think you have my answer. I doubt you would have even a second of luck with my wife. Best use a cup if you go talking to her about this…” There were a few grumbles before even heavier pacing could be heard then growing fainter. “You may come to regret this, Pete. You were her favorite, and now? I just don’t know…” “Well, consider me put off, general. I’ve done a lot for her, but this? If she was even half the Big she claims to be, Ms. Beakerman would never ask this of another Little. And… I’ll add this…” Considering the subject, Pete was doing an excellent job of not losing his temper. “If she wants Ashley… she better be prepared to go to court over this, and we both know if she does that… she will lose.” Without another word, the front screen door slammed shut and a heavy sigh could be heard afterward, followed by the simple click of the main door. With the general clearly having departed, Ashley held Bunty close and began to descend the stairs. Peeking out and seeing Pete in one of the single cushion armchairs with his head in his hands, the Little’s face grew concerned. “Pete?” Pete looked up toward his descending Little. “Ash… I… did you just hear all that?” Ashley nodded and toddled over to Pete with a disheartened expression. “Could I really be taken away from you and Betty?” While she might be leaving Peirama and even this dimension soon, there was still something frightening about Ms. Beakerman. Being the head of Diamond Technology, she had all the factors on her side in order to rip Ashley away within a single night. True, per Carer+, Ashley was legally under the protection of Betty and Pete, but there always seemed to be some sort of twist or rock to stumble on in this dimension when it came to Littles and Bigs. That fact appeared to weigh heavily on both Big and Little now. Ashley then took a deep breath and while she looked in pain to do so, there was a question that was clearly on the tip of her tongue that she had to ask. “Could she… I mean, could she really take me away from you two?” Pete looked hurt over such a straightforward question, but his expression also seemingly answered it as well. “I… I can’t lie to you, Ash. She… if she really wanted to… she could. Betty and I would fight for you, but yes… she could take you away.” Pete then stood and walked over to Ashley before crouching down and taking her by the hands while also being careful to keep Bunty stuck firm into the crook of her elbow still. “But right now… let me tell you this… you’re not going anywhere with her.” It was just a statement, but there was something firm and reassuring just by the way Pete had looked while making that pledge to his Little. For Ashley, her relief was evident, and she quickly hugged Pete. ‘You’re not always the best out there Pete, but when you want… you can be a real lifesaver.’ Ashley smiled and hugged Pete tighter. ‘But also… why did you emphasize those last two words. It almost… well, it almost sounded like you knew something more than you were letting on. Kind of like… I might still be going somewhere… just not with her.’ Ashley frowned in contemplation over those two little words, but after a moment, only squeezed Pete tighter. Considering that tomorrow was the meeting with Betty and Brother… remaining moments like these may be few. * * * Day 140 – 5:24 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Daycare was as smooth as ever now that Ashley found herself in between two worlds. Her bout with the facility had given her the freedom of a Little, but now, thanks to Pete’s machinations each Wednesday night, she had the mind to remember and execute the rules of the daycare properly. Also… if needed, she knew how to execute a plan to get away with seemingly nearly everything. She didn’t take advantage of that often, but when she did, there was usually an extra cookie involved for all her friends. Needless to say, her popularity had never been higher. Still, the whole day, she couldn’t get her mind off the business of what was to happen after daycare. It was such a small thing with just her, Brother, and Betty, but it was hard to get around the fact that potentially, after this afternoon, she might have a near guaranteed plan of going home. With Betty’s help as well, everything seemed perfectly in line for her to leave Peirama… forever. There were things to like here, though, and as Betty pulled into the driveway and left Ashley in the main dining room to go signal out back from Brother to come inside, her saddened expression was notable. ‘I can’t believe this actually happening now. Before… it might have been a fool’s dream to escape, but with Betty… how can I not go home? How can this plan fail? And… I would never admit this out loud, and I definitely want to leave, but… I kind of feel sad to know that I’ll be leaving Betty and Pete and all my friends so soon…’ The sliding back door opened, and Brother walked in, and for the first time, he removed his hat and other concealment garments to reveal a messy mop of red hair and freckles all over his face. “Hey, Ash. I guess there’s not much point in hiding my identity in here anymore…” Ashley was clearly stunned for a moment, but in the end, stuck out her hand to shake his. “Hey… Brother?” Brother smiled and shook her hand back. “Yeah… let’s just stick to that name for now. That can cause a lot of issues later but faces… Bigs still haven’t cracked the technology for mental images yet.” “But they have for names?” Ashley questioned with a slight shudder. Betty scoffed. “Yeah… cracked that a while ago. Near potent truth serum essentially. 99% effective and combine that with a neural analyzer and enhancer… even the most regressed Little could be temporarily unregressed and spill tons of verbal secrets. Tough nut to weave around I’m sure for you LRG folks.” Brother nodded. “You wouldn’t believe, but…” He leaned forward over the countertop. “Let’s get to why we’re here. No telling if Pete could be home any moment now. So… Ashley. Your information… how…?” “Do I get it out?” she questioned followed by a confirmation nod from Brother and Betty. “Well… it should be uploaded automatically when I go back, but until then… I was given a series of commands for it to extract the information.” “Wow…” Betty gawked. “That’s a lot of tech for a Little. How does a personal trainer get that kind of gear back on Earth. It’s out of date here now, but on Earth? That had to be quite the challenge to even get a hold of that…” Betty looked over to Brother questioningly. ‘Wait… he knows who I am, but Betty… I thought he would have told her by now… especially since she found him and even coordinated all this about me.’ Brother seemed to be able to read her expression. “Nope. I didn’t say one word to her, Ash, about any of your background.” “Yeah,” Betty confirmed, “and I grilled him pretty hard about it too. Asked him at least thirty times about it, but… he just wouldn’t talk about that stuff with you.” Her gaze then narrowed on her Little. “So… how about it, Ash? We’re doing all the sharing today… so you go now. How’d you get the eye?” “Because she’s an investigative journalist,” a horribly familiar voice said from the shadows. The three schemers turned towards the hallway and saw Pete walk in. Each seemed seconds from fainting in shock. “And there’s more…” he continued. “The way I see it now… Ashley won’t be leaving Peirama.” He blinked a few times and stepped forward before leaning over the countertop himself now that Brother had recoiled in shock. “So… I guess we need to talk then, huh?” Ashley gulped and looked at Pete with horror in her eyes.

Chapter Fifty Nine John sat in the booster seat, irritably pulling at the lap belt holding him in place. After everything that he’d been through today, the last thing that he wanted was to feel like a baby. That LPS woman had pretty well spoiled what little patience that he usually had for the baby treatment. As MeMaw put a bowl filled with little cubes of honeydew melon in front of him, he looked for a fork, but there wasn’t one to be found. “MeMaw? Fork?” he asked. But as his toddler cup was placed in front of him, she said “These are finger food, you just eat up and I’ll fix you a drink that Nana Claire said you would like!” Rolling his eye, admittedly still just irritated with the babying treatment, he picked up a cube of honeydew melon and looked at it suspiciously. Fully expecting to like it just because Nana Claire said he would made him even more irritable, but he took a bite anyway. Oh that was oh so slightly sweet, cold from the fridge and the texture was -just- right. Not realizing that he’d closed his eyes until he opened them, he was MeMaw waggling his toddler cup at him expectantly. So without even bothering to argue, he took the cup from her and took a sip. It was Spriten Up. John stared at the cup and blinked. From his left he heard “What’s the matter, do you not like it?” “No, no. I absolutely like it. It tastes like home, in a way.” was all he could think to say without paying any attention. Nana Claire now had not one, but two bigs buying the same inter dimensional beverage for one little. And while he had no way of knowing how much it cost, and there was no way any of the bigs were about to share that knowledge with him, it had to at least cost them something. And he was just one little. If everyone in this town went to Nana Claire for stuff for their littles ... Nana Claire is VERY good at her job. Blinking a few times as his brain caught up, he took another pull from the straw and smiled up at MeMaw as a plan came to him. “Oh! MeMaw?” She immediately smiled back at him and asked “Yes, sweety?” His smile only grew wider as he answered “You know, MeMaw, this drink reminds me of home. Would you like to try some of it? I want you to know what it’s like where I’m from!” Completely unaware of what was about to happen, MeMaw gave him a big kiss on the forehead before turning to go to the kitchen. While she was gone, John looked over at Mom. She had obviously heard the conversation, because she stood there by the couch with a shocked look with both of her eyebrows up. John just smiled at her until MeMaw came back with a bit of Spriten Up in a glass for herself. She held it up and John grabbed his cup and held his up too. After they clinked his cup and her glass, he took a drink from his straw while he watched MeMaw take a great bit swig of Spriten Up at the same time. There was a slightly delayed reaction until her left eye clamped shut, he right eyebrow twitched a bit before her right eye started blinking a little. MeMaw did a slight full body shudder as her head started twitching slightly side to side like some sort of robot glitching out. MeMaw finally managed to move her hand to put the glass down on the counter, but that was only so that she could make a pawing motion at the air for a moment. Then her hands both balled up into a fist and he could see her forcing herself to swallow the mouthful of Spriten Up. After a few moments, she pinched the bridge of her nose and he could just barely make out her mumbling “Why is it in my sinuses. HOW is it in my sinuses. Goddess spare me I can taste my sinuses.” Finally recovering a bit, MeMaw turned around and looked at John who was just smiling as he took another drink for himself. Of course, he held out the cup and offered her another drink. “It’s good, right? Would you like some more?” MeMaw was obviously trying to look mad, but with John looking like an innocent smiling little, she just couldn’t. “No sweety, why don’t we just save some and you can share it with your PaPaw next week?” Johns grin grew even wider as he heard Mommy behind her chime in. “Mom! Will dad even survive that, he has less tolerance for sweet things than we do?” MeMaw patted Mommy on the shoulder and explained “After we left your Father made up all sorts of stories about why you can’t plant the lettuce I want, complete with making up international articles with convincing sounding reference numbers and just kept making it up the entire way home. He’ll survive.” They both stopped to look at John. John, for his part, just ate another cube of Honeydew melon. They knew what he just did on purpose. But if they weren’t going to call him out on it, he was just going to eat his snack and play innocent. He’s just a little, after all. John was slowly catching on to how this world works. After finishing his bowl of melon cubes, MeMaw picked him up and carried him to the bathroom and put him on the counter and ran water. Without thinking about it, she washed and dried his hands for him. “MeMaw, I can do it.” “I know sweety, but I want to help you.” With a half sigh, half growl, he complained “MeMaw, I just … I don’t want … MeMaw, I don’t want to feel like a baby right now, okay?” Suddenly MeMaw stopped and looked him in the eyes without speaking for a few moments before she nodded. “You know, sometimes after a rough inspection, littles need a bit of time to calm back down. Usually after the inspection we are gone and we don’t see it directly. You are still a little, so you DO still have to accept some help. But maybe we can talk about this for a bit.” With a huff, he said point blank “MeMaw, you said I’m a toddler. I’m still an adult.” Slowly nodding for a moment, she picked him up and got him up so his butt was on her arm as she spoke softly to him. “John, this isn’t the world you are used to. And quite frankly, most littles here aren’t as mature as you are. And even then you still need to learn to accept what you can’t change about this world.” Letting his head slump onto her shoulder, he kept complaining “But I’m an adult. I’m not a toddler. I can work, and cook, and mow the grass, and stock shelves, and do everything you can. Just … smaller.” Feeling her cheek on top of his head was comforting, but not reassuring in this moment. “John. Sweety. Littles … I don’t know how to put this gently. Did you know that we have portals and trade with three dimensions of littles?” Looking up now, he asked “Wh… what? Three dimensions of littles?” She simply nodded and explained “And those are only the ones we trade with. There are a few more that … Well let’s just say that those places are not very nice. Every one of them are run by littles.” John didn’t really notice that MeMaw had started walking around and patting his butt trying to keep him comforted. “And us Bigs have been watching all these littles from different dimensions and then there’s the littles here that grow up and then sometimes they … grow back down. And we love them all the more with every passing day.” With that, she lifted him up and gently bumped her forehead against his. “I know that this might be a bit more than you’re ready to digest. But while I know our world isn’t perfect, we don’t let littles go hungry and homeless here. Does that happen in your dimension?” John stammered a bit. This was the most direct and maturely that anyone had addressed him the entire time he was in this dimension. “Well … uhhh…. Yeah. It does, but what does that …” She stopped him with one finger to his lips as she answered “You are one little in a wide world of Bigs and Littles. You don’t know the way things are here, and that’s perfectly fine. Please just try to accept that we know what this world is like, and we are going to do what’s best for you in it. You may not understand it, and honestly you don’t need to understand all of it. You just have to trust us. Okay?” All he could do was nod silently along. How do you respond to being told all of that? “Now. I hate to spoil this moment, but it’s time for you trust me now.” And with him on her arm, he was carried as she went to the fridge and got out a bottle of milk, ready and waiting. As she carried him to the rocking chair, he caught on to what was happening and started trying to squirm to get down. By the time she was sitting down and getting a blanket to wrap him up in he was trying to push her arms away. “MeMaw, I don’t want a nap!” He protested. “Sweety, you don’t have to take a nap right now, you need some milk. It’s nutritious, and you’ll feel better. You can nap later.” While she looped the blanket over him, he tried to roll to get loose, but she simply wrapped him up like he was a toddler burrito. “MeMaw, no!” While he squirmed and tried to somehow wriggle out of the top of the swaddle he was stuck in, she kissed him on the cheek and held the bottle to his lips. He tried to protest again “NO-umpphh” but the nipple of the bottle went right into his mouth. He tried to refuse to drink, but with a little squeeze of the bottle a few drops went into his mouth and he started to swallow and suckle on the nipple seemingly on autopilot. Without knowing how long it was taking to drain the bottle, he tried to do anything he could to stay awake while he got halfway through the bottle. He tried wriggling what little he could. He tried moving his toes. John patently refused to fall asleep right there in her arms and on her terms. As he finished the bottle, his eyelids felt like they were made of lead when he was slid up onto a shoulder and his back was patted in just the right spot to make him give off a soft burp. Pulled back around and resting against MeMaws chest, he felt a pacifier against his lips and gave in to take it. And there, with a belly full of milk, a pacifier in his mouth, and swaddled up nice and warm as the slow motion from the rocking chair moved him back and forth, John dozed off.

Chapter 48: Training Elysium – LittleFallenPrincess ------------------------------- April First week of April and it was already off to a good start. The third years were in a much better mood this week, as they start potty training very soon. Though apparently because the third year boys took so long in getting in line with the program, they’re not doing this whole potty training thing until next month. I don’t know why it’s some big deal though, as it’s clear they’ve done something to our brains or something to turn off our potty training, and isn’t it just a quick switch back with more hypnosis? Or did it remove it completely and now they genuinely have to start from scratch? I guess I’ll hear more from the third year girls when they start later this week. Except Ellie, apparently. They all pretty much know she’s into this at this point, it’s not exactly subtle. They still don’t know about the deal she has to be in here, but they do know she doesn’t intend to get her potty training back. Walking was needed in the outside world, so she played along with that, but potty training… Apparently she didn’t want it back at all, so she opted out of the plan. I mean… that’s a pretty drastic decision… but I think she’s been told if she ever wants to regain control, Elysium will be happy to give it back when she’s ready, even if it’s years after graduating. Sia, her ‘big sister’ may not hate being babied, but unlike her ‘little sister’, she can’t wait to get into pullups after being in nappies for so long. Because that’s what they’ll be wearing… pullups. They’ll get little plastic potties and everything, apparently. They know because that’s what happened with the third years before them. When they were in second year, they watched the third years go through months of potty training. Having to ask a Nanny to be taken to the potty, being punished if you have an accident in your pullups… I could see the appeal of not going through that, as even if they were silly punishments like being returned to nappies for a few days, I don’t like earning punishments. I… like to be a good girl if at all possible. In other good news, Ceres got permission for me to watch some of Laura’s livestreams, just one per week at most, for an hour. And only when she’s playing a game and nothing real life is being talked about, as I’m still supposed to be in the dark regarding the world outside Elysium’s walls. The first night watching was amazing, I must admit. Ceres must have told Laura that I was going to be watching that evening, so Laura picked a rather childish, family-friendly game to play on stream. I sat there, in the chair, cuddled up with my Nanny in her arms, with her tablet showing the livestream in front of us, all snuggled up in my pyjamas, watching my ‘big sister’ show off her livestreaming skills. Honestly… I never would’ve guessed the slightly reserved woman I met just the other week had such charisma on camera. But what made it special, was when Laura made a little call out. “I’m going to name this villager Rosie, because she’s cute,” she said. Then apparently the chat was asking who Rosie was, if she was a girlfriend or a friend or something (I wasn’t allowed to view the chat, in case anything from the real world got mentioned). Rosie just replied with “she’s my little sister. I only met her for the first time the other week, and she’s the cutest little bean! Shout out to my baby sister, Rosie!” I squealed and squirmed in Ceres’ arms, flailing about with happiness. “Happy now, Princess?” Ceres asked, kissing my cheek. “Uh huh!” I replied. “I like Laura. I really hope we become closer when I graduate.” “Me too. She was such a good girl for me when she was in here. Kerry was a bit of a handful on occasion, you saw how excited and bubbly she gets. Now imagine an adult-sized three year old version of her…” “I can imagine. Thank you for this.” “Oh sweetie, you know I’d do anything for you.” Much later on in April, it was now our turn for our special training… walking. Third years were already in pullups, well… the girls were… the boys had to wait a tinier bit longer. Now it was time for the second years to begin walking. And just like the third years… the boys (Rowan excluded) were being delayed a month for taking so long to get with the program, which caused a lot of groaning and complaints from Jack and Ollie and that lot, but thankfully that was all it was, just complaining. They were behaving a lot better now at least, though they still weren’t friendly with any of us on the other side of the playroom. I hafta admit… I missed Ollie. It had been nearly half a year since he showed his true colours and defected over to the boys. He still didn’t get along with Jack, Frankie and Harry… but he did get along with the third year boys. The third years, from what I observed, tolerated Jack and his gang hanging out with them, but they rarely got on with them like they did with Ollie. Which made me worry for Ollie, because once the third years graduate, he’ll either have to make friends with Jack… befriend the new second years… or do all this on his own. Unless he puts whatevers bothering him behind him and apologises so he can rejoin our group. But anyway… Yes, walking. This was… humiliating. Not as humiliating as sitting on a potty in front of everyone to do your business… at least nappies made it discreet when it came to using them. I felt kinda bad for the five third-year girls who were attempting to potty train, whenever they sat on a potty… their faces turned beet red as they quietly wished for it to end. That doesn’t mean our training wasn’t humiliating at all, but in comparison, we had it easy. I will admit though, falling back on my padded arse over and over again got old quickly, as did the snickers and giggles coming from the boys’ side of the playroom. But hey, that just means we can laugh at them next month when they go through the same! Whereas the potty training for the third years would take a few months, apparently, we got walking done by the end of April. We were still a bit wobbly, whatever programming they had pumped into our brains made it so we were still required to take it slowly, and the thick padding between our legs didn’t help to keep our balance, so we’d often fall. We’re all just glad the playroom floors are soft… “Ella, you were so good today!” I said to her, as I snuggled up with her in my crib, with Ceres sitting idly in the background playing on her tablet. “You think so?” “You didn’t fall over once! You’re definitely the Queen of walking in the second year.” “Oh shush. Rosie… you’ll get there eventually.” I hoped so. Sure, I had managed to get used to walking again… mostly. I can do it unaided…. Most of the time. Legs are still a bit wobbly though, and I often resort to crawling instead because of the amount of times I’ve fallen back onto my padded backside. “Why do I need to walk anyway? I have Ceres to carry me everywhere… and crawling is underrated!” This made Ella giggle, but it also caught Ceres’ attention. “You can’t rely on me to carry you to job interviews or to appointments… I can’t take you shopping hun… once you graduate, that’s it, you’re on your own. Well, on your own with Elysium support.” “What are you going to do once we graduate?” I asked my Nanny. “I don’t know.” “It’ll be six years here… think you could do another three?” “Not sure yet, hun. They have a very generous leaving package if you do decide to leave after you’ve done a set of three years. I could go travelling, do something I’ve always wanted… I get the same benefits as graduates, which means I could even start my own business, if I wanted.” “I sense a ‘but’ coming…” I replied. “But… I like it here. Elysium is home. I’m very protective of it now. Maybe I wasn’t at first, but by the end of my first three years… I knew what good this place could do, and what good I could do here. So maybe… maybe I will stay? Again, this is something I’ll figure out next year. I’ve still got a year and a half…ish… of changing your soggy nappies!” I blushed, which caused Ella to smile and kiss my cheek. “I think you do a lot of good here. You fix things and you support everyone. I know the board must be so glad to have you here.” “I have to agree. You’d be amazing as like a ‘Head Nanny’ or something!” Ella replied. “Is that even a thing here?” “No, it’s not. Just the board, and the Nannies,” Ceres answered. “Maybe I’ll stay. Maybe I’ll go and get some more free time, spend it with my favourite baby…” She quickly stuck her tongue out at me. “Hey! Once I graduate, I won’t be one!” I replied in defence. “Give it time. You’ll miss Elysium eventually. You’ll be one of the ones who end up getting a kink out of this place.” “I… no! Shush!” “Hey babe… if you did… I wouldn’t mind, you know that?” Ella said, taking me by surprise. “Really? If I ended up wanting to be treated like this outside of Elysium? Not that I do! Just hypothetically speaking. Right now… I don’t think I will. Just saying.” “Suuuuure…” Ella trailed off, making it clear she didn’t believe me. “But if you did… you make an absolutely adorable baby…” “You could be her Mummy…” Ceres blurted out, giggling to herself, causing both Ella and myself to blush, avoiding eye contact with each other. “But no, seriously, if you do or don’t continue this… Elysium, me… and it seems your girlfriend… will support you no matter what. If you want a nursery, Elysium is happy to supply you with one.” “Wow… really?” I asked. “Surely all this custom furniture must be expensive? I doubt you can just go to the shops and get an adult sized crib…” “If you gained a kink in here like others have… that’s down to us. Plus it means you’re letting out your stresses in a healthy way, not reverting to bad habits. Which means we don’t have to readmit you or keep a close eye on you. So yes, it’s a small price to pay, knowing that you’re doing well outside of Elysium.” “I guess that makes sense…” I genuinely don’t know if I would be into this once I graduate. Because on one hand… I really do like being cared for. Feeling small, feeling all my adult stresses disappear… it was better than any night out or spa vacation or anything. I really did feel like my best self here… which worried me. But one look at Jess and Sophia, and at Ellie,and they’re well-adjusted adults… when they’re not enjoying playing with blocks anyway. They manage a life, or at least I assume Jess and Sophia do. And I know Ellie was into it before coming here… though forcefully getting kidnapped by a shady institute to get to live out your kink probably isn’t the best, most sensible thing… Maybe… provided Ella is okay with it like she says she is… and provided I still want to wear these nappies after spending nearly three years in them by the time I graduate… maybe it’s something I’d like to explore. “For now, you just focus on being the best little babies for us, okay sweetpeas?” Ceres said to us, smiling over from her chair. “Don’t worry about graduation yet. That’s for when you’re in third year. Your job this year is to enjoy your new babyhood, to spend time with friends, to fill your pamps…” I buried my face into Ella’s shoulder, as she did mine, as I’m pretty sure by the squishiness I felt between my legs, the same squish that was pressing against hers… that we were both in need of a change right now. ====================================================== 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, why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! 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. And it goes without saying, my story is not to be used in any way to create AI work. Thanks!

I keep some moonshine on hand for just such a scenerio lol

In a cabinet under the diaper changing table my BF built for me, it also has a wipe drawer with all the commodities and the top is padded. Just love being changed by this wonderful man. Yes I change him too on the same table.

Well, it's taken a little longer than I planned, but here we are again. My brain hasn't been working so well over the last week, so please let me know if I've drifted off-course or made any weird mistakes towards the end of this chapter. Thank you for your patience! This is the start of Act III, but I'm still not sure whether this chapter would be better as a cliffhanger for the end of Act II. Anyway, here it is… Act III: Undercover Secrets 49. Worst Luck Brock kept his eyes on the road as he drove, but Isadora knew he would be thinking about a dozen plans at once. He always was. “Are we going to talk to Arrencani?” she asked, always nervous. Her hand clutched the necklace, a symbol that Brock trusted her now. It was strange how many times over the last couple of days she had caught herself reaching up to touch it. “About… you know?” “We’re just going to watch movies,” he gave the same answer as always, like she’d known he would. “And maybe to find out a little more about his wife. And about how this started. But the answers we want will be in the subtext.” “So if he says…” “He can’t know that we know about his other businesses. He needs to see us learn about that organically. Even if he hints at ageplay today, or any other fetish, we pretend not to notice. Understand? I’ll know when to approach the subject so he can trust us. And we need to ‘discover’ this side of him naturally if you want to get in there.” “Right,” Isadora nodded slowly. “Keep the conversation on Alessia Strong. We can build up to other things, if we’re here long enough. But… you said fetishes?” “There are different types of ageplay,” Brock answered like it should have been obvious to her. She wished again that she’d found the nerve to go searching the Internet like Brock had, so she would have a better idea how other people experienced regression. But it always seemed so intimidating, making it necessary for him to tell her even the things that were more relevant to her own legend. “I think that a facility like his is more than likely approaching it from the kinky side,” Brock continued. “Is that a problem for you?” “No, no…” Isadora answered, trying to hold back the tide of indistinct images now flooding through her mind’s eye. She didn’t really know what he meant by that, it wasn’t even something she’d thought about. But she had to let him know that she wouldn’t be so easily scared. “No, that’s fine. I guess I never really thought about it like that. For me it’s always been just a reminder of a comfortable time, but I can see… I mean, I think I can imagine how people would get something different out of it.” “That’s good, then,” Brock said, with a quick nod. The car was already pulling onto the gravel in front of the Arrencani house. The journey hadn’t really been long enough to justify driving, but Isadora was wearing Estelle’s fanciest heels, as well as a dress which kept her legs closer together than she was really comfortable with, so she hadn’t wanted to walk today. She was dressed for presentation, rather than fashion; as Brock had insisted. “Thank you,” he said, reaching for her hand. And she realised that while she’d been thinking about their plans for the day again, he had already come around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. She leaned on him a little to pull herself upright, and felt every inch a posh lady as they took the few steps towards the front door. Was this a life that Estelle had always dreamed of, she wondered, or was her legend being pressed into a role she didn’t quite understand just like Isadora was? “Thank you?” “Thank you. For taking a dive into a life so different from what you know. For looking so stunning on my arm. And for inspiring me to ask about Alessia in the first place. It was a question I might never have thought to ask.” Isadora could avoid thinking about the comment on her appearance by telling herself that Bernard Klein often spoke like that; Brock was just maintaining their cover identities. But the other compliments, she was less sure about. Was Bernard praising her according to his habit, or was international super-spy Dashiel Brock actually impressed by the lines of investigation she had opened up? She didn’t have time to ask now, even if she had been sure there was nobody within earshot, because the big front door swung slowly open as they approached. Geoffrey wasn’t standing there to welcome them today. Instead, Roman Bercher offered a stare that made it absolutely clear that he would rather be anywhere than here. He was dressed in the crisp black suit that seemed to be the butler’s uniform, and was standing at attention like he’d never left his navy days behind, but somehow an air of disrespect still showed through. “Mr and Mrs Klein,” he said with a forced smile. “So good to see you. Mr Arrencani is waiting in the screening room.” The accent was clipped, the words perfunctorily polite, but Roman clearly wasn’t impressed that he was expected to perform this duty. Perhaps he felt it demeaning to be treated like a mere domestic servant, and was eager to return to his duties as head of security; although as soon as Isadora thought of that, she found herself again wondering exactly what the head of security would do here, in a gated neighbourhood where only the neighbours could even get to the house. Perhaps he was eager to get back to… cutting drugs, or executing investigators who got close to the Arrencani family. After all their efforts to investigate, she still didn’t know what role Roman actually held with regards to the criminal side of the business; or whether the human trafficking they had been sent to investigate was any more than a rumour. As they passed a narrow corridor on the left, Isadora’s eyes darted involuntarily in that direction and she found herself hoping that their suspicions were unfounded. That drugs were the extent of the Arrencani Family’s illicit dealings, and there were no helpless women locked in the basement downstairs. After seeing his behaviour towards the housekeeper, she could imagine all too clearly what he might be like with a woman who couldn’t call for help. She wanted nothing more than to set up an undercover reason to enter that basement room, just so she could know for sure that Roman didn’t have girls to deal with; or at least that his superiors would say that they were too valuable to be hurt by a mere hired gun. She took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the corridor ahead of them, as she felt Brock pulling her forward a little. She was still holding his arm, playing the perfect happy couple, and that gave him the perfect opportunity to keep her from getting too distracted. At the same time, she couldn’t stop wondering whether he cared about the potential kidnapped women at all. She suspected that he was using them as an excuse to prolong this case, giving himself a chance to shut down Arrencani’s drugs operation even though their jurisdiction here only extended to kidnapping. “Bernard!” the jovial voice of Lorenzo Arrencani himself signalled that the time for introspection was at an end. They were here to socialise, to convince him that he could trust them with information about his many criminal enterprises as well as the legitimate façade, and perhaps to solve the incidental mystery of why and how Mrs Arrencani had vanished from the picture recently. “So good to see you. And Estelle, looking so very sophisticated. Please, come in, come in. It can’t be comfortable to stand in heels like that for so long.” They followed him into the screening room itself, which seemed more like a miniature cinema than anything Isadora would have expected to find in someone’s house. It seemed like the rich really did live differently. There were a few small rows of red leather seats, arranged in a little dip in the floor to give them the right viewing angle opposite a screen that looked almost too tall for the big house. For sure, there had to have been some rooms cut away upstairs to make this place possible. To one side of the screen, they saw a woman wearing a stereotyped hostess uniform; more like a cinema usher than the formal outfits the domestic staff usually wore. But a second later, Isadora recognised the features of Alessia Strong. Once she’d seen that, it was easy to recognise the iconic uniform from Deleted Scene. Lorenzo had acquired a life-size cardboard sign depicting his wife in one of her early movie roles; which seemed oddly romantic for a mafia boss. “Ah yes,” Arrencani chuckled, probably seeing where they were looking. “My darling Alessia. The story of how we met involves that sign, in fact. It’s a constant reminder of why I loved her. And I thank her every time I watch one of her movies.” “Now that’s a story I’d love to hear,” Brock prompted. “I’d love to share,” Lorenzo said. “But perhaps we should start the movie first? I believe you expressed an interest in seeing the original cinematic release of Arms Length. And while I do enjoy the movie, it has quite a number of atmospheric establishing shots which would also be a perfect background to romantic nostalgia.” “Do I need to stay for this?” Roman interjected from the doorway, still looking more than a little frustrated by his temporary role as the butler. His discomfort just made it clear how much self control Geoffrey normally displayed, standing smartly for hours on end without ever making a sound unless he was called upon. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lorenzo said. “Yes, you can leave if you want, Roman. Could you start the first movie before you go, and send Claudine in with refreshments? I’ll send for you when we need you again.” Roman slunk out of the room, and a few seconds later the lights started to dim. It seemed like Arrencani’s home cinema had an actual projection room, with nothing so convenient as a remote control. But in its own way, that only added to the atmosphere. It felt like they were in a real theatre, and having a staff to take care of the mundane tasks seemed more elaborate than ever in those circumstances. Claudine arrived quickly enough, with a selection of drinks on a little trolley. She must have been waiting to be called, and understandably didn’t want to hang around in the hallways any longer than necessary if Roman was the messenger. The house lights faded down slowly, and waves of sound rolled over them as the screen lit up. There were no trailers in this private venue, but the movie was still preceded by quite a handful of animated logos for its various production and distribution companies. In the flickering gold light, Isadora glanced down at the drinks trolley. Claudine had just poured a tumbler of sparkling water, but she saw Brock trying half-heartedly to hide the bottle as he added a more than generous measure of his favourite Swedish copper-still vodka. She didn’t sigh; indicating a good deal more restraint than she’d thought she could muster. But she found it hard to believe that Brock couldn’t stay sober for ten minutes when he needed to be at his most observant. And Isadora couldn’t keep her disappointment to herself. “Thank you, honey!” she said with a theatrical smile, reaching for Brock’s glass. “Is this for me? I thought you might like one of these, while you’re cutting back.” Her other hand offered him a bottle of still orange, which he graciously accepted. Their eyes met only briefly in the dim light, and for a moment she couldn’t be sure whether this performance was for Arrencani’s benefit after all. Would seeing tension between the Kleins lead the crime boss to remember arguments with his own wife, or lead him to talking about how he’d resolved it? Had Brock set this up to help them find the information they needed, or was he just reaching for a bottle when he didn’t know what else to do? It was impossible to tell. “Of course,” Brock answered, and she could make out the frustration in his voice. If she hadn’t known what a skilled actor he was, that would have been enough to convince her that she was really getting to him. Whether she would have stopped in that case, she wasn’t entirely sure. She took a sip of the drink, which was quite bitter but more pleasant than she had anticipated, and tried to focus on the screen in front of them for now. She thought she had seen the movie before; if she hadn’t, then she’d at least caught part of it on TV, or seen other shows quoting or parodying the most iconic moments. “Alessia dragged Totenkreuz out of the director’s chair by his shirt collar when they were filming this,” Arrencani was the first one to speak over the movie itself, after five or ten minutes of popcorn and exposition. It was a story that probably everyone had heard before, or some version of it. But Arrencani, presumably, had learned of it from the actress herself, and so this version had a higher chance of being true. “Somehow, the fans on the Internet blew that up into lifting a man by his tie, which seems quite impractical. But they had a choreographer telling the girls where to run in this scene, you know? Mapping it out like a dance. The guy was a dance professional, and knew just how to create the impression of chaos without everyone getting under each other’s feet.” “I heard,” Isadora found herself picking up the story as soon as the man paused to bring his own drink, which looked like a glass of brandy, to his lips. “Movies were all about aesthetics, then. The kidnapping scene was planned out like a dance. Completely different from the fights later on, when her boyfriend is there.” “Exactly,” Arrencani said with a smile. “Women trying to get away from the enforcers take their directions from a ballet guy, while the men would be choreographed by a martial arts expert. Even when she got a fight scene in the script, it was all dodging and weaving, never actually making contact. And that didn’t spark joy for Alessia, not at all.” “So she…” Brock found the right two words. Isadora was still thinking over all the different ways she could express the question in her mind, but her partner had distilled it down to a pair of words that didn’t give away anything at all. It was another demonstration of just how good he was at choosing the right words. “She said she should be taking her cues from the same coordinator the guys used,” Lorenzo confirmed. “She was aggressive, but not rude. And rather than a men-vs-women thing, she presented it as consistency. Having the same experts for every action scene, so the movie has a constant feel. And, of course, it’s more cost-effective to only have one fight director. She was a smart woman, always knew how to make her point. Figuring out how what she wants works for both sides.” “Did she ever do that with you?” Isadora asked, and regretted it as soon as she saw Brock’s steely gaze. But it was too late to stop talking now. “I mean… it sounds like she’d never want to lose an argument.” There was a pause, and Isadora just knew there was something there. Some private argument, something Lorenzo would never admit. But she knew right away that he would never even consider sharing this with a neighbour. “Maybe,” he said. “Everybody disagrees at times. But I’d like to think that, in the end, I gave her everything she could have wanted. And I always wanted to make her happy, there was rarely any suggestion that mattered to me more than that.” There was nothing more to ask after that. Maybe there had been conflict between the Arrencanis, but that wasn’t something he was willing to share. And now he would be on his guard, so Isadora knew she wouldn’t be able to ask anything else. Brock, on the other hand, might just be able to say the right things to encourage their host to share. But all Isadora could do was hope; and she hated how helpless she felt right now. After this mission, she promised herself that she would make a much greater effort to study the things he had said, and to acquire the same skills that seemed to come so effortlessly for him. She looked up at the screen again, trying to pick up the plot of the movie. Alessia wasn’t on screen right now, as a dramatic long shot over the rooftops led into the introduction of her boyfriend. It would have been an opportunity to talk, if Isadora could think of what to say. But the cinematography here was excellent, and it was really easy to get caught up in the guy’s introspection. “Is that Emlyn Beaker?” Brock asked, after the first bunch of dialogue was over and they were watching the man walk down an alley again. “It kind of looks like him, doesn’t it?” Arrencani replied. “No, it’s a guy called… umm… Sheldon Featherstonehaugh, I think. It’s weird, because he had star billing on the first run of posters for the film, and the trailers. He was going to be the next Stallone, if a little more brooding, and then… Well, the movie came out, and all everyone was talking about was the leading lady.” “They’re both brilliant actors,” Brock said, before their attention turned back to the movie again. “And Alessia looks stunning.” “Yes,” Lorenzo agreed softly. “She always had that quality. You can’t look away when she’s on the screen. You know the strange thing about this? It’s a pretty well-known film, but I bet you can’t tell me the name of her character.” Isadora stared at the screen for a few seconds, trying to remember. She had picked up the name of Featherstonehaugh’s character, Jason, but she couldn’t say the same about the female lead. “Is it Alessia?” she said. “The same as the actress? Seems a bit odd, but I remember a friend who did film studies talking about Jason and Alessia as a great tragic romance.” “It’s Katarina,” Arrencani answered with a chuckle. “But nobody ever remembers that. It’s only mentioned in the credits, you see. Throughout the film, the kidnappers refer to her as ‘the girl’, and Jason only calls her ‘cupcake’. Most fans started calling her Alessia because it was the only name they knew, and in the sequel it was retconned as being her middle name. Weird how these things turn out.” The afternoon continued in that vein, with Arrencani occasionally offering snippets of backstage information that Alessia had remembered. For anyone else it would have seemed almost obsessive to study the productions in that depth, or to remember so many inconsequential details. But it was clear that these memories meant the world to Lorenzo, as memories of the woman he loved. After Arms Length and Eighty-Six Minutes, Isadora found herself getting really caught up in the story of those characters. Until Claudine came around with her drinks trolley again, it was too easy to forget the circumstances of this screening. Isadora hoped that Brock had picked up some useful information, because she was sure that she would remember little more than the story on the screen. “It’s a shame they didn’t make it a trilogy,” Brock mused. “Yes, there still seemed to be stories to tell there,” Arrencani answered. “On the other hand, Alessia was so worried about getting typecast. They’d given her a potential script for the third instalment, and she was reading it when we first met. But she decided that she wanted to try something different. It took a few more attempts for her to really find her own niche, but I’d say that Manhattan After Midnight is the jewel in her crown. How about we watch that one, if you two don’t have any other engagements?” “That sounds perfectly agreeable to me,” Brock said, with a broad grin. He quickly reached past the fruit juice that Claudine was pouring for him, and started to build himself some kind of cocktail instead. Isadora took a deep breath, and then watched their host’s eyes. He seemed hesitant to say anything; very aware of the drama between the Kleins. He didn’t say anything, but responded with a jolly laugh when Isadora took the drink out of Brock’s hand and raised it to her lips. As she tried not to show surprise at the bitter flavour, she wondered for a moment if Brock was just going to make himself another one. But he paused for a moment, looked up at her, and then accepted his fruit drink. “The movie is actually named after the cocktail,” Arrencani said. “According to the novel it’s based on, anyhow. But I don’t think one is necessary in order to watch it.” “I think this will be my last drink,” Isadora said, hoping that the whiskey wouldn’t go straight to her head. This wasn’t really her kind of drink at all, but now she’d taken it, there was no polite way to change her mind. This movie was very different. Not just because of the computer-generated explosions at the beginning; which had started to come into fashion during its production but didn’t quite have the capability to look realistic. This time, Alessia Strong wasn’t cast as anyone’s girlfriend, wife, or love interest. She wasn’t a damsel in distress, but a foul-tempered mob enforcer who’s name struck fear into the hearts of all the bad guys. For a moment, as the plot started to gather momentum, Isadora wondered if Arrencani ever saw the irony in enjoying this kind of movie with his wife. Or whether her performance had been informed by whatever glimpses she had seen of her husband’s more secretive businesses. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself more in this one,” Brock said, once the plot had started to move forward. “She knew who she was, I think,” Arrencani said, gesturing with his glass. He paused for a second, and it was easy to tell just by looking that he was still enraptured by the beauty on the screen. He gave the impression of a man who would stop to think, each and every day, about how lucky he was to have her. “In her earlier movies, she talked about how the writer saw her function as being the love interest, there for the male audience’s fantasies, and the director wanted her to be a complex character… Here, she is a badass who is going to get what she wants and kill every last fool who stands in her way – Yeah, I know that quote is from another movie – and it’s so simple. I mean, in more than a few of her earlier movies, her role was just to look pretty for the men in the audience no matter how they tried to wrap flowery language around it. This time they gave her a role with a goal and a mindset, and the whole script worked with that character.” “She’s still hot,” Brock said. “And the whole world could see that. But there’s no conflict between that and the role they’ve given her. She doesn’t need to think about how the hypothetical male demographic can feel, she just plays the character. Right? For once, she only has to think about how the character feels, and not how some hypothetical male demographic feels about her, and I imagine that’s pretty freeing.” “I don’t remember the words she used,” Arrencani answered, with the smirk clearly audible under his voice. “But that’s how I understood what she was telling me. She could play the role, instead of the societal expectations around it.” The words seemed very deep, and Isadora wanted to respond but she wasn’t sure what she could add to that. She didn’t just want to be tagging along while Brock extracted all the information they needed, but it was slowly becoming clear that the two men were talking over her head. And as much as that was natural for someone like Estelle, it made Isadora’s sense of frustration start rising again. She needed to find something she could add. “That’s kind of the way it was at home as well,” Arrencani was saying, and Isadora realised that she had spaced out for a moment there, not quite following the conversation while she tried to think of something to say. “She was so much happier, more comfortable, when she knew what was expected of her, and she didn’t have to keep thinking about balancing her needs against her family’s. It’s a shame it took so long to get there, but…” His words trailed off into silence as the dialogue on the screen dominated their attention again. And as she saw Alessia Strong’s character being finally subdued and dragged away, Isadora thought she knew how she could show Brock that bringing her was a good decision. This time, a couple of months playing the underdog since the start of this undercover mission had given her the insight that would make all the difference. “It’s like she’s playing chess,” she said. “And everybody else is playing… cheese? Uhh… checkers, I mean. Like she’s smarter than the people playing the rules so everything is different.” There was so much more to say, but Isadora was already starting to feel that she had said enough. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and every syllable brought her precariously close to biting it. She wondered if there was something wrong with her voice, something making it harder to speak clearly. But then her perspective shifted, and what had at first seemed like a mumble turned into slurred speech. And at the same time, she thought again about the words she had said, and realised that they didn’t really mean what she had intended to say. Had she really drunk that much? She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t entirely sure how strong Brock tended to make his cocktails. She might have vastly overestimated her own sobriety; and she knew that if she wanted to retain any kind of respect, she simply needed to stop talking. The movie continued, quickly building up the level of action. Isadora realised that she was finding it harder than usual to understand the onscreen events; but there was no way to know whether that was because of nerves or alcohol; or whether her earlier concerns had made her more aware of whether or not she was taking in every little detail of the plot. She fidgeted a little, fingers coming up again and again to touch the smooth plastic of the necklace, restoring her confidence a little. “She had a body double for this part,” Arrencani was saying, idly swishing his drink around in his glass. “Not sure why. I always told her I could tell the difference, but… even for me it’s a challenge. I don’t think I would have spotted it without being told.” Isadora couldn’t see any reason for needing a double either; the shot he was talking about just seemed to be Alessia – or whatever the character’s name was – posing silhouetted on a balcony. That, at least, was something she could comment on without risk of embarrassing herself. She raised her glass as she spoke, wondering if a simple ‘yeah’ would make her seem more trustworthy, more like one of the guys, or whether it would be better to think more about her words. But whatever words she would have chosen, it didn’t seem to matter. The sound that came from her lips was an indistinct breath, and before she could make a sound she noticed the half-full glass slipping from between her fingers. She tried to catch it, but her hands just didn’t want to move fast enough. It was like her strength had disappeared. The carpet would have been treated to a third of a glass of the cocktail, but thankfully Roman snatched the glass out of the air before it could hit the ground. Isadora hadn’t even noticed that he was standing next to her, and she was shocked to realise just how much situational awareness she had lost. Had she really drunk that much before the second glass was empty. “Someone can’t hold her drink,” he said, with a laugh that instantly made Isadora wish he was farther away. He was every stereotype of the guy you didn’t want to be near when you were drunk. But she wasn’t drunk, was she? She should have been fine with the small amount she’d drunk today. And as soon as the thought finally clicked in her mind, it all made so much sense. Not drunk, but drugged. Brock had said that Arrencani might be on to him. They’d hoped to deflect suspicion with a public argument and letting slip a secret with no connection to their mission; but Isadora thought now that it hadn’t worked. Arrencani had put something in Brock’s glass, and she’d picked it up without even thinking. But that meant Brock had her glass. He never seemed drunk. Would he have a greater tolerance for whatever they’d been spiked with as well? Would Arrencani have put a higher dose in Brock’s glass, expecting him to be the problem? Did the criminal mastermind even know that she was involved, or did he think it was just Brock spying on him? She had no idea what the situation was, but she knew she wasn’t in any state to break free now. The best she could do was alert Brock, and hope that he was still able to do something. She tried to stand and shout, but her whole body felt heavy, and her head spun with the slightest movement. Her yell of warning turned into a barely audible croak, and she didn’t know if Brock would have understood what was wrong, even if he was still able to react. Rather than getting to her feet, she barely managed to topple forward out of her seat. It was only Roman’s rough hands around her shoulders that kept her from planting face-first on the carpet, and she didn’t even have the strength to look towards her partner and see if he was okay. “Oh dear,” Arrencani was saying behind her, somehow managing to feign some concern. “I guess those cocktails were too much for her. I at least hoped we’d get to the end of the movie. Can you take her to Selma and see if she needs any first aid, Roman? And then we can start thinking about who Stella really is.”

Happy 4th of July! Chapter 146: Counsel and Tests BETH LOOKED UP at the woman, “I was going to go change her diaper? She asked me to?” “Is this true?” the woman asked. “Yes, ma’am. She’s my friend,” Carly replied. “Why not use one of the HoloChangers?” “They scare me,” Carly answered honestly. “Hmm… I don’t think this…” The woman was about to argue further when Amanda came from the hallway behind her. “Hi, my name is Doctor Westerfield, Carly is my granddaughter, and Beth is a close family friend. Is there something wrong?” Beth looked at the woman as she seemed to calculate her response. “It’s nice to see you, Doctor Westerfield; we met once; I’m Doctor Shapiro,” she told Amanda. Amanda just stared at her for a moment, “That wasn’t the question I asked. I asked if there was something wrong?” “Umm… I believed this girl was possibly abusing or forcing…” “She’s not,” Amanda said. “I…” “Girls, go ahead and go change Carly, please, and get to class. Doctor Shapiro and I are going to take a walk to my office.” Beth felt her veins freeze with the temperature of Amanda’s voice, “Okay, thanks.” Beth followed the advice and quickly left the building with Nikki close by her side. “That’s the new Dean?” Nikki asked. “Yes,” Carly told her. “Pleasant woman, isn’t she?” “I was curious if I was going to have to take care of her as a problem,” Nikki responded. “Somehow, I don’t think that conversation is going to be too pleasant?” “Honestly, I hope not,” Beth said. “I wish her well if she’s going to try and take on Amanda…” “I just hope I don’t end up a hostage,” Carly told her nervously. Beth cringed at that but nodded, “Don’t worry, with your grandma, along with my mom and dad, and Charlotte in your court…? I would put my money on Shapiro losing every time.” As they made it to the building, she could tell Carly was genuinely afraid – and that was strange to her. Carly had stood up to a whole gang of thugs more than twice her size, armed with knives and guns. Not a single moment had she seemed afraid then. Here? Carly was actually almost trembling as they reached Marconi Hall, and she carried her into the nearest bathroom to Carly’s class. Beth squeezed her tight and rubbed her back like an upset child, feeling a little guilty at that. Opening the bathroom door, she prepared to place her down on the changing table but stopped in just the nick of time! It looked like a warzone had exploded on the table. Bits of poop, smears, and more were all over the table, the walls next to it, and as Beth looked more closely, she saw it was also on the floor. She’d just missed stepping in it! ‘This is normally the cleanest changing table!’ she griped. “Carly, maybe we should try another bathroom?” “Beth, she only has three more minutes to get to class,” Nikki said. “Crap,” Beth said. She looked at the counter beside the sink and decided that Carly was small enough for her to change her there. Beth wasted no time in changing Carly and hugging her. “It’ll be okay, Carly. Just focus on your test; we’ll meet you in the lobby afterward.” Carly leaned into Beth’s hug, nodded, and said, “Thanks, Beth.” Beth placed her down on the ground and watched her walk in with less confidence than she’d ever seen the girl. Clearly, something was bothering her with everything – and Beth didn’t necessarily think that was unwarranted. She was a couple of minutes late to her Fields class, but the professor was running late as well, so no one noticed. Beth had a difficult time focusing in class, but as the professor was giving them a test on Friday, it seemed stupid to ignore him. She forced herself to take notes, adding some last hints he had given, and avoided looking at her phone. I WASN’T SURE why, but after seeing Dr. Shapiro essentially ready to attack Beth and myself, I was badly shaken. I was sitting down in my usual seat, and Carter, who was also in my Intelligence class, asked, “Is everything okay? Who was that other woman?” “She’s the new interim Dean of Littles,” I told him. “She didn’t seem like a very nice person…?” “Definitely didn’t give a good first impression to my grandmother,” I told him. “What was the deal this morning? I heard all the Littles were rounded up…?” “I’m still not sure,” I told him. On a whim, I showed him the email of edicts. “What the fuck?” He said in response. “Definitely looks like trouble coming our way,” I told him. “Keep your head down,” he told me, “but remember, people stood up for you all not that long ago. I’m surprised they’re stupid enough to try again so soon.” “I’m not,” I sighed. Right then, Professor Davis started passing out test pads. “Good morning! This test should run most of you about ninety minutes, but you have the full two hours during the class time. I’ll even extend that another hour until the next class needs this room if anyone really needs it.” ‘Rather generous,’ I thought to myself, appreciating at least one faculty member not choosing to be a jerk that day! When he got to my desk, he shuffled through the tablets and handed me one that was significantly smaller. “I thought you might appreciate one that is better sized,” he said to me. “Thank you,” I told him, even as I worried that someone would use that as a way to ensure I failed a test. He’d been fair to me the whole semester, though, so I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Shortly thereafter, I logged into the test and clicked through the multiple-choice questions. There were a couple questions that asked for you to type a response, but it was one of the more straightforward tests I could have hoped for! I was finished and triple-checking my answers just an hour into the test. It made me terrified I was making stupid mistakes. It was either that or I really did know what I was doing… After reviewing it again and making one or two additions to some of the open-response questions, I pressed submit. Gathering my stuff, I was sure I was the first person finishing the test, and Professor Davis raised his eyebrow as I handed in my tablet. “Did you complete the test?” “I believe so?” I told him. “Problems?” “No? It was pretty straightforward?” “I hope it went well; I’ll post scores tonight,” he told me. “That’s quick, thanks,” I told him. I made my way out the door and found the lobby area was pretty quiet. I was just about to walk towards Beth’s class when I saw Grandma sitting in a chair. “Grandma?” I said. “Done already?” She said. I nodded, “It was mostly multiple-choice, and all just regurgitation of facts?” “Hopefully, it went well,” she told me. “We need to talk… I already let Nikki know to tell Beth you’ll have to catch her after lunch today.” “Where are we going?” “Lunch with some friends,” she told me cryptically. “Okay…?” I said, even as she picked me up. “It seems that there’s some information being spread that needs to be stopped,” Grandma told me. “Wasn’t I supposed to keep my head down?” “That was before Melanie Shapiro decided to declare war!” BETH WORRIED AS her class concluded that a shoe was ready to land on their head with everything. She’d already been worried about Reila, but now it seemed there was another problem for Littles, too. Those dorms had lost many people before the protests but seemed to be mostly stable since then. Carly and her friends had definitely seemed happier, at least! As class ended, she saw a message from Nikki saying that Amanda was taking Carly for lunch. ‘I hope she’s safe,’ Beth nervously thought. Amanda had looked like she was prepared to go full-on ‘mama bear’ with that woman. “Where do you want to eat lunch?” Nikki asked. “I’d already mentioned to Livy we could do some last-minute studying for our Calc final if we met up at Westerfield?” “Let’s head that way, then?” Nikki told her. Beth and Nikki walked silently down the sidewalks, even as she noticed some small things going on with the Littles that she hadn’t paid attention to earlier that day. Every girl Little had either braided pigtails with bows tied to the ends that morning or loose pigtails. Usually, she would see some variation beyond that. It was clear that it had been coordinated that day to only have two options. The one or two girls she saw with hair too short for pigtails had been given elastic headbands, like the ones she’d seen for infants before, complete with a bow on top. The boys looked like extra care had been taken with their hair that day, with gel and hairspray, as if it were picture day for elementary kids. Beth found Livy in the Union in line for chicken and decided to join behind her. “Hi, Livy,” she told her. “Hey,” she said. “Where’s Carly?” “Her Grandma took her for lunch somewhere?” “Is she okay?” Beth fought to keep from worrying, “I think so.” When they had their lunch, she couldn’t help but watch one Little at the checkout line getting upset, “What do you mean I can’t have a drink?” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we don’t have any sippy cups at this location yet, and we’re not allowed to serve Littles in anything that’s not spillproof. We can let you fill one if you have it?” “Why would I have a sippy cup?!?” The boy looked like he was close to blowing when a tall girl behind him said something to him. Beth watched his shoulders roll over, and something was said to the cashier as the girl took two drinks. Several other Littles seemed to be behind them in line, trying to figure out what to do about it all. “What the hell is going on today?” Livy asked quietly. “At breakfast this morning, they insisted on all of the Littles wearing bibs? I saw half of them being shoved baby bottles, and the rest had sippy cups?” Livy was a little taller than Beth, but both knew when push came to shove, they were not Bigs. “Here,” Beth said, showing her a picture of the message that Carly had shown her. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me?!?” Livy hissed. “I wish I was,” Beth said. “So they’re just going to… what?” Livy asked. “I don’t have a clue. From what I can tell, there’s some new Little’s Dean that came in this past week? She seems to have hired a new nest mother as an interim, too?” “Aren’t interim people usually just there to keep the ship afloat?” Livy asked. “You would think so?” “Something else is clearly going on,” Nikki spoke up. “I’d recommend not talking in the open like this.” “You think…?” Livy asked. “I wouldn’t trust anything right now, Livy,” Nikki told her honestly. “Hey, umm… is Reila okay?” Livy asked Beth instead. Beth felt her stomach clench, “Why do you ask?” “She wouldn’t talk much last night?” Beth debated about what she should say if Reila hadn’t told her. “Her test didn’t go so good,” she told her. “She may be in some trouble.” “Why exactly did we come to Emerson?” Livy asked. “I am actually wondering that more every day,” Beth told her. I FOUND MYSELF experiencing something for lunch that didn’t happen all that often back home, even with our family being exceptionally wealthy. Grandma had driven me in her car to a nearby restaurant; they’d led her to a private back room without even asking who she was, and there we found Aunt Megan. “Hi, Aunt Megan!” I told her. “Carly,” she smiled and gave me a hug. “Hi, Mandy,” she told her sister. “Thanks for coming, Megan. Edgar should be here soon, I think,” Grandma told her. “Of course!” she told her. There was a booster seat attached to a chair where Grandma sat me down. A waitress came by right then and took an order for food and drinks for the three of us, even as a tall man, a bit taller than Grandma, arrived. His hair was graying, and he looked to be probably about my mom’s age. “Hi Edgar, I haven’t seen you in a while?” Aunt Megan said to him as she greeted him with a hug. “Too long,” he said. “Good to see you again, Amanda. We don’t normally run into each other this often?” He said. “No, I’d rather not need lawyers,” Grandma told him. “Carly, this is Edgar Freeman. He’s a former classmate of Beth’s father.” “Nice to meet you,” I told him. “Same, I’ve heard lots of stories about your mom!” I blushed a bit at that; it seemed everyone had stories about her! After the waitress took his order, she disappeared and closed the door behind her. Grandma pulled out one of her jammers and activated it. “Okay, thank you both for coming. Something is going on at the university all of a sudden, and I’m worried something will happen to Carly here.” “What’s happening?” Edgar asked. “Well, apparently, last week the Board of Regents decided to appoint a different interim-Dean for Littles while they’re performing their final search after they fired Emma Greene.” “Who did they bring in?” He asked. “Melanie Shapiro?” Grandma said. “The name sounds familiar?” Megan said. “She ran the daycare at the university for thirty years before retiring?” “Now I remember her,” Megan replied, “she was a piece of work in some litigation before she retired.” “That’s her,” Grandma said. “Fortunately, she didn’t do anything to Stacy back then, but I watched her be utterly ruthless with a nanny who didn’t follow procedures back then. I guess my question is, why would you hire someone who’s essentially an overqualified babysitter to run the Little Dorms?” I nodded. “Pretty obvious answer, if you’re cynical enough,” Edgar said. “What else?” “She brought in this woman, Wendy Chester. Cameron and Addison knew her. She ran the daycare Addison first put Cameron in during his adoption. I guess Addison fired her, and she bounced around some other places? We’re trying to get a handle on exactly what happened there.” “So she’s a piece of work, too?” Edgar asked. “Definitely,” Grandma agreed as food suddenly arrived. My cup was plastic, with a straw and a lid, but other than that, there were no obvious signs that I was a baby for once at a meal out. The food was by far too large in proportion. Still, it was a fantastic pasta and chicken dish that I ate as the conversation continued. “So anyway, Carly, tell us about what’s been going on yesterday and today?” I swallowed my bit of food and said, “Well, it started yesterday…” I told them about my conversation with Lilly, then how I had ended up going to bed, having breakfast that morning with the other Littles, who were being bibbed and babied with sippy cups and baby bottles, and then the message from the Dean. I showed that message to them, and they both shook their heads, “What’s gotten into them?” Megan said. “Seriously, they just had a national protest and fired the old people for less?” “I don’t understand it either,” Grandma replied. Edgar looked thoughtful, “I’m going to need to look into some things. It’s interesting that they’ve appointed a new person like this from the Board of Regents. I’m wondering if someone complained about the Littles getting away with too much, talked to the right people, and then brought in Shapiro?” “I think it may be more widespread than that?” I told them, thinking of what I knew about Reila. “Someone hacked one of my friend’s tests, we think, and gave her a completely different test that she then failed.” “That may be unrelated, Carly. I think that has more to do with you and Beth?” She sighed, “I’m not convinced that they didn’t accidentally give that to Reila instead of Beth?” I nodded, “I’ve thought about that, too…” “So, where do we go from here?” Grandma asked. “Well, how far do we want to push this, Mandy?” Megan asked her. “This would have to be a suit from Carly to have standing?” “And she’s signed away those rights,” Edgar told me. I sighed, knowing that was likely the case from the pages and pages of digital forms I’d signed before I came. “So, obviously, we need to figure out another angle?” Grandma said. “The political pressure with the student protests seems to have been successful before?” “Surprising, really,” Edgar said. “If Charlotte Perez was involved again, it might quickly contain itself?” “I could ask?” I mentioned. “You know her?” Edgar asked. “She’s in my filmmaking class; we’re become pretty good friends.” He looked thoughtful, “I wouldn’t ask just yet…” He shook his head, “There are two more days after today before Spring Break. Don’t rock the boat. Wait to take action until afterward, and be absolutely certain that no one can blame it on you. Are you following the tech rules?” he asked. “I handed in my EdgeSphere set and my phone last night. They gave me my phone back today until I go back.” “We’ll try and figure out a way to get some surveillance in the nests. That request made me instantly wonder what’s coming next that they’re trying to hide,” Edgar said. We finished eating and left without a clear plan in place. I could tell that Grandma, Edgar, and Megan thought it was smarter to wait things out. I hoped they were right! Grandma stopped by the changing table near my Math classroom to change me before class, and Molly came in. “Hi, Carly,” she cooed while my butt was up in the air. I sighed, “Hi, Molly.” “Who was that?” Grandma asked me as she carried me to the room a couple minutes later. “Classmate,” I told her. “She seems friendly enough, but watch out for her… She seems to have a mothering fixation there…” “Believe me, we’ve had that conversation!” “Now, I wish you’d had some time to cram. Are you going to be okay for this test?” She asked me. “I’ll be fine,” I told her, smiling. She whispered in my ears, “Tell no one about the contacts. They won’t show up on any scan and should stay on your eye in the same spot until we release them. Don’t give them up no matter what unless someone takes them out of your eyes somehow. No one makes them that size, so they shouldn’t believe you can have them. I’m going to look into something with them later to make them even more functional. They may be your only resource if this gets any worse.” Grandma left me at the door, and I walked into what I hoped would be an easy exam for me! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press that all-important Like button!!!!! (Pretty please with ice cream and cherries and sprinkles and strawberries and cookies and chocolate syrup on top???) I really appreciate all of you who keep commenting, please continue to do so! My muse for another project is being a bit of a pain right now, so I may swing back by and write some more on this over the next week. Just as a reminder, I started a Discord server if you're interested in the AI Music post I did on YouTube, or just want to chat about my work. For now, that's all it is... it may expand in the future. It's kind of an experiment at this point! You can join here: https://discord.gg/6xVnzUnM

Now in the water park, Sam wants to keep as low of a profile as possible. Something which may not be possible when a friendly park employee comes to help her "have fun." --- I am only able to devote as much time as I do to writing thanks to my wonderful subscribers. Writing is my only source of income and therefore I appreciate immensely everyone who supports me. For $5 you can see all of my story updates one week before the rest of the world. For $10 you get all the early stories PLUS 35+ EXCLUSIVE STORIES not available anywhere else AND early access "Livy's New Family: The Comic" Please check out the links below for more information, tiers, and rewards. https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- In the queue Sam looked around. No one was batting an eyelid at her despite being carried around and so clearly diapered. As they reached the gate Jade handed over the entrance tickets they had bought in the car. Sam pouted as she noticed one of them was clearly a child’s pass. She almost wished SOMEONE would point out that Sam was actually in her twenties. “What do you want to do first?” Jade asked as they walked inside. “Go home.” Sam muttered as quietly as possible. Whether Jade heard her or not Sam didn’t know but she carried on walking regardless. Sam shifted awkwardly and felt the diaper underneath her childish swimming costume move with her. It may not have been quite as bulky as her usual padding but it was certainly just as loud. Sam was carried straight towards a paddling pool area and she whined. All around her were teenagers and young adults going to the bigger water slides whilst she was taken a play area for little kids. The small children’s area certainly had no expense spared. It didn’t lack for activities and there were a lot of small kids running around. Sam clutched Jade tighter, she didn’t want to be put down and have to “play.” It was bad enough at home yet alone doing it in public where so many people could see her. Unfortunately Sam didn’t get much say in what happened to her these days. The shallow water had a small ledge around the sides where a lot of the parents of children were sitting and watching their offspring having fun. Jade sat down along with them and had to practically peel Sam off her chest. The small woman was lowered into the water that went up to her knees. She immediately hugged her arms against her chest and looked around. She wanted to hide but there was nowhere to go. “Go on.” Jade said encouragingly, “Go and play.” “I don’t want to!” Sam hissed. “Well we aren’t leaving until I’m sure you’ve had fun.” Jade shrugged her shoulders. She leaned back with her hands propping her up. “But…” Sam pouted hard and turned away. Arguing was pointless. Walking was awkward when she was wearing thick padding between her legs and Sam was finding it even harder in the water. Her waddle was pronounced but she was far from the only one struggling. A lot of the small kids here were padded. She scanned the area trying to find a place where she might be able to hide until Jade got bored and took her home. The closest thing she could see was a small climbing area that had some staff members making sure no one hurt themselves. Maybe there was hidden area she could wedge herself in. Sam waded through the shallow water towards the play area trying to avoid getting too wet. She scowled whenever an overexcited child splashed past her. The scene at the climbing area was one of chaos. The children were running around, splashing each other and screaming noisily. It seemed like they were having the time of their lives but Sam wanted no part of it. This was a mistake and she was going to beat a hasty retreat. “Hello, my name’s Charlie.” Sam turned to see a young woman wearing a Big Splash Water Park uniform. She was smiling down at Sam with a friendly smile, “What’s yours?” “S-Sam…” Sam replied hesitantly. “That’s a very pretty name.” Charlie said. Her condescending voice was making Sam cringe in embarrassment. She crouched down in front of her, “Do you want to play with the others?” Sam quickly shook her head as her eyes went wide. She took a step to the side with the childish idea that she could hurry back to Jade for protection. The enthusiastic employee seemed to have other ideas though. “Your Mommy told me you were shy.” Charlie said with a toothy smile. Sam was left even more shocked. She looked past this woman at her cousin who was still perched at the edge of the pool talking to some of the other parents and drinking something with a long straw. When she saw Sam looking over she waved. “She also said you really like to have fun.” Charlie continued. It was clear she had no idea she was actually talking to a woman in her early twenties, “Is that right?” It was a stupid question, Sam thought, everyone liked having fun it was just that everyone’s idea of what was fun was different. For Sam being forced to “enjoy” the activities of a glorified paddling pool wasn’t fun at all. In fact it was very much the opposite. Charlie seemed to be taking the lack of an answer as further proof that Sam was just a very shy child. “Well, come with me.” Charlie said as she took Sam’s hand, “It’s not so scary.” “I don’t…” Sam started. Charlie stopped to look at her but she had stopped talking. Sam couldn’t say too much or she would let this woman know that she was actually an adult which would be even more humiliating than her current situation. She bit her lip. Her only option was to try and resist whilst also keeping up the charade that she was actually a kid. “I don’t wanna.” Sam said grumpily. “Oh, don’t worry, Sam.” Charlie said encouragingly, “Everyone’s really nice. You’ll see.” Sam was pulled towards the apparatus that seemed to draw the attention of all the small kids in the area. No amount of digging in her heels or pulling back seemed to be able to make Charlie slow down. Her feet simply slid along the bottom of the pool and she had to concentrate on not falling over. “It’s OK.” Charlie said cheerily, “I’ll stay with you.” Sam now felt like even more of a baby. Apparently she was now so little she needed a dedicated caretaker. She wondered if Jade had set this up ahead of time, she certainly had the money and connections to pay for such a thing. Whatever had happened it wasn’t helping Sam at that moment as she was led closer to a ladder leading up to a platform that had small slides and things coming off it. “Up you go.” Charlie said. Sam was feeling overwhelmed. There were little kids everywhere, she felt surrounded as if the children were a swarm of bees, she was doing her best to avoid them but by the time she was at the ladder she couldn’t help but rub shoulders with them. She tentatively placed her hands on the metal bars of the ladder. “That’s it. Well done!” Charlie praised Sam as if she was accomplishing a grand task. It was only embarrassing her even more. Sam climbed the short ladder. Even when standing on top of the platform she was still shorter than Charlie as the employee stood up and started encouraging Sam to cross a little bridge towards one of the slides. Charlie hurried around to the bottom and beckoned for Sam to go down. Sam could hear impatient children behind her. She looked back over to where Jade was sitting to see she was watching. Of course she was watching, she wouldn’t want to miss seeing Sam embarrassing herself. “Yes, Sam, Mommy’s watching.” Charlie said from the bottom of the slide, “Show her how brave you are!” Sam whined but there was no other way down from where she was other than the slide she was standing on the edge of. She slowly sat down and looked to the bottom where the plastic slippery surface disappeared underneath the shallow water. It was only a short way down. Even for Sam’s small stature it wasn’t particularly tall but that didn’t make it any more palatable. She sat down and put her hands on the sides. After a sigh of inevitability she scooted herself forwards. The water made the plastic even more slippery than she had been expecting and she slid down the plastic so fast that she let out a squeal of alarm. Her legs and arms flew arm as she rushed down towards Charlie. Sam splashed into the water and closed her eyes. She had done her best to avoid getting too wet but now the water had splashed up and all over her. From the top of her head down to the bottom of her feet she was soaked as she slid into Charlie’s arms. The properly sized woman was chuckling and congratulating Sam as she helped her out of the way so the other kids could use the slide. “Well done!” Charlie said as she led Sam away, “That looked like a lot of fun!” For Sam it had been anything but. If she had hoped that would be the end of it and she could go back to Jade she was left very disappointed. Charlie stayed with Sam and took her around various other activities in the water. The swim diaper swelled a little from the water but it was primarily made to let liquid through, it still grew in size and became somehow even more obvious. For a couple of hours Sam was forced to go around the baby area with Charlie. The whole time it was happening she just wanted to go back to Jade. She was aware she wouldn’t find any respite with her cousin but she still felt like safety. Sam was given the run around for most of the morning until she was finally brought back to Jade. She was tired out and soaking wet, the only thing propping her up was the knowledge that she would soon be heading home. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” Jade said as Charlie approached. “She was good as gold.” Charlie replied. Sam glared at Jade but she still gratefully waded forwards to sit down next to her. She tuned out the short conversation Jade had with Charlie as she impatiently waited to be taken home. Another day and another humiliation she would have to one day explain to a therapist. Sam was picked up by her cousin and sat on her lap. Charlie waved goodbye to Sam one final time before finally retreating. “Did you have fun?” Jade asked once they were alone. “You know I didn’t!” Sam growled. “You looked like you did.” Jade countered. Sam knew that was an utter lie. She had done her best to look as annoyed and angry as possible the whole time. She didn’t want to argue though, she had another problem growing and it was something that hadn’t been an issue until that day. She needed to pee but the diaper she was wearing was not made to contain it. With a shudder she realised she had come very close to just letting go, she had become distressingly used to the disposables that were always taped around her waist. “Mommy, I need the bathroom.” Sam said quietly. She was sat in the water which submerged her waist and looked around nervously. “You’re wearing your diaper.” Jade replied simply. “I don’t think this thing is designed for pee.” Sam continued, “And it’s all swollen from the pool water.” “Then just go. No one will find out if you pee in the pool.” Jade said. “Gross…” Sam scrunched up her face. “Sweetie, you’re in a pool full of little children. Do you think they all run to the bathroom when they need to potty?” Jade asked with a smirk. Sam suddenly felt even more grossed out. Regardless of the disgusting stuff children did Sam wasn’t like them! She was an adult and perfectly capable of not urinating in the pool but now that she had mentioned it she was sure Jade was going to make it happen. She was pouting and in a fit of anger splashed her hands in the water. “Don’t have a tantrum, baby.” Jade said warningly. Sam was furious with her lack of say over anything in her life. No matter how much time she spent in this loathsome position she still couldn’t get used to having even her most basic decisions decided for her. She sighed and let shoulders slump, despite all her anger there was nothing she could do to change anything. Sam closed her eyes and did something she had become very used to since being put into diapers. Relaxing her muscles, Sam shuddered as she almost immediately started peeing into her diaper and the pool. “Still, we’ve got other things to do as well…” Jade said. “What do you… No!” Sam was still in the middle of going potty in the pool when Jade leaned forwards and put her hands underneath Sam’s armpits. Sam felt her feet leave the bottom of the pool and she flailed desperately to be put down. It was no use. Her cousin lifted her out of the water and amongst all the dripping of water there was a steady stream pouring out of the bottom of Sam’s diaper and into the pool. She tried to clamp down with her bladder muscles to stop the flow but it was no use, she just kept leaking. “Put me down! Put me down!” Sam desperately pleaded. Nearby people were looking over at all the commotion. Sam had no idea if they could tell that the liquid coming from the small woman wasn’t just water from the pool but to her it felt incredibly obvious. Jade giggled but did at least lower Sam back down. The water in the children’s pool had already been warm but now Sam could feel the rise in temperature, even that didn’t feel as hot as her face which was burning from embarrassment. “Finished?” Jade asked a few seconds later. Sam shamefully nodded her head and this time when she was lifted up she didn’t fight back. She wanted to be carried away from the pool as soon as possible. She welcomed being sat on Jade’s hip as it allowed her to hide her face as she was taken away. This water park now felt like yet another place she would never be able to show her face. --- If you want to find out what happens next RIGHT NOW you can do so at the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/m7x7lotzmt/chapter/mcn3yptjf6904e16 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1938124

Hey guys/ littles and daddies, I am in a hard spot and needing help with diapers as I can’t afford and need them, I wear a size medium and am willing to arrange things for diapers if need be. I live in KY where it’s very homophobic, and I suffer from Autism, PTSD, ADHD, severe depression, severe mood disorder. It’s so embarrassing to have to ask for help and write this as I have been off work for 2 years and am waiting for disability. Please DM me or email me with any concerns or responses…. Much love and stay padded my friends

This was TOO funny to not post. Saw these in academy sports yesterday.

We (meaning my BF and me) are in the middle of our annual 4th of July BBQ. We know of 2 other like minded couples that we party with. There is only 3 rules, 1: Don't pee in the pool 2: Use the bathroom for number 2. 3: Don't pee in the house if your not wearing diapers. Otherwise pee to your hearts content, at 90 degrees you can dry yourself out pretty quick. Just love drinking and playing games without having to go to the bathroom to pee. Happy 4th of July everybody.

The stroke landed me in two emergency rooms, and three hospitals. In both emergency rooms they were too busy running tests to worry about my underwear, so I was wearing a Molicare when I was admitted and sent to a ward. The staff insisted that I wear the flimsiest pull ups imaginable, and they changed me during the wellness checks every three hours, and when I buzzed for them in between. It was not a big deal. The third unit was a stroke rehabilitation ward, and the same routine until the last three days. By then I could walk around unassisted, and had some use of my right hand (my right side was paralyzed in the beginning),so they stopped the wellness checks and let me wear my own diapers. At night I would spread out my Bambino Bellissimo, lay down and powder myself, then pull the diaper into place. Then a nurse would come in and do the tapes. They taught me a neat trick: inhale,then exhale and squeeze your abdominal muscles for a count of three. They apply the tapes one by one, and you get a very secure fit. Some of the staff were interested in the diaper, and so I ended up singing its praises. We all laughed about the cheap, shoddy pull ups they were using, but we all know how cheap hospitals are when it comes to patient care. Everybody who changed me, both male and female, was thoroughly professional, and the therapists worked hard to get me to bathe and change my diapers without assistance. When I left the hospital, I was self-reliant, and in no small part because I was working with real pros. So my advice would be to wear what you need, and rely on professionals to behave professionally. I have tried to convey a sense of this professionalism in the scene with Herb and Bernice.

Chapter 5 - A Day in the Life at the Recreation Center Sarah Baker arrived at the Sunnydale Recreation Center just as the morning sun reached the length of the property. She balanced a cardboard tray of coffee cups in one hand and fumbled with her keys in the other, as she approached the front door. The weight of the upcoming week already felt like it was settling on her shoulders. Five days of summer programming lay ahead—her first full week since the grand opening. Her to-do list seemed to multiply every time she glanced at it, and she figured an early start might help her get some things done early. "Morning, boss lady!" Jill called from behind the reception desk, her long blonde hair hanging graciously at her shoulders, with a bright white smile on her face. "Please tell me one of those is for me." Sarah smiled and set the tray down. "Hazelnut latte, extra shot. And I brought muffins." She placed a paper bag beside the coffee. "We've got thirty new enrollments to process today, and I figured we could use the fuel. Lots of new members! So exciting, isn’t it?" "You're a lifesaver," Jill said, immediately reaching for the coffee. "The phone's been ringing non-stop since six-thirty." Sarah glanced at the clock—7:15 AM. "Have you seen Matthew?" Jill shook her head. "Not yet. Want me to call when he comes in?" "That would be great. He ran out early to get something but I figured he might be here by now." Sarah grabbed her own cup and headed toward her office. Sarah’s desk greeted her with stacks of paperwork—insurance forms, activity waivers, staff certifications, and budget spreadsheets. Sarah sighed and dropped into her chair, taking a long sip of coffee. The computer screen blinked to life, revealing seventy new emails since Friday afternoon. "And so it begins," she murmured, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. Three hours later, she'd made impressive headway through the administrative mountain but felt the familiar itch to be out where the action was. The distant squeals and laughter of children and excited conversations between adults filtered through her office walls. It was a call she couldn’t resist any longer Sarah saved her budget spreadsheet and stood, stretching her arms overhead until her spine popped. At the reception desk, a line of parents clutched enrollment forms while Jill and the other receptionists valiantly managed the controlled chaos. "Need a hand?" Sarah asked, slipping behind the desk. Relief washed over Jill's face. "These five need to be processed," she whispered, nodding toward the waiting families. "And I've got a call on hold about a private birthday party booking." "I've got this. Take the call in my office," Sarah said, turning to the first parent in line with a warm smile. "Hi there! I'm Sarah Baker, the center director. Let's get your little one signed up, shall we?" For the next hour, Sarah processed forms, answered questions about programs, and handed out welcome packets. Each family left with a personalized recommendation for activities based on their child's interests—the swim team for the tall boy, art camp for the shy girl, robotics for the twins who couldn't stop talking about their science fair project. It felt nice to be talking to the actual people she had built this all for. By lunchtime, the rush had subsided, and Jill returned with Sarah's now-cold coffee. "You saved my life," she said. "Oh, and Mr. Fernandez called about using the gym for a community basketball tournament next month. I put it on your calendar." Sarah nodded, scanning the reception area. "Still no Matthew?" "Nope," Jill replied. "I walked by his office. It looked like he had been there, but he wasn’t in it. Want me to try his cell?" "I'll do it later," Sarah said, though concern nibbled at the edges of her mind. "I should get back to those grant applications." Tuesday brought more paperwork and still rare sightings of Matthew. After finalizing the summer swimming lesson schedule and approving three field trip permission forms, Sarah escaped to the playground. The fresh air washed over her like a shower of cold water, and the sunshine warmed her face as she watched children climb, swing, and race across the poured-in rubber surface. Madison Torres was leading a group of preschoolers through an elaborate game involving hula hoops and bean bags. Her curly hair bounced as she demonstrated how to toss the bags, her voice carrying across the playground in a sing-song rhythm. "Ms. Sarah!" Madison called, waving enthusiastically. "Come show them your bean bag toss! You're way better than me!" Sarah laughed and joined the circle, kneeling to demonstrate the proper technique to all the kids. "It's all in the wrist," she explained, guiding one boy’s small hand. His successful toss into the hoop earned her a gap-toothed grin that made the spreadsheets momentarily vanish. After twenty minutes of playground games, Sarah reluctantly headed back inside, her spirits lifted despite the growing questions about Matthew's whereabouts. She'd left three voicemails on his phone and sent several texts, all unanswered. Wednesday morning, Sarah found herself buried in paperwork again. After a brief phone call with Matthew, in which he’d promised to check in on some of the afternoon programming, she worked diligently to wrap up he paperwork. By afternoon found Sarah at the outdoor pool, clipboard in hand as she reviewed the lifeguard rotation schedule. The scent of chlorine mixed with sunscreen, and the slap of wet feet against concrete created a percussion backdrop to children's laughter. “No running by the pool,” Sarah called out after one group, though their energy and excitement were infectious. "Marcus, how are the new rescue tubes working out?" she asked the young lifeguard, who sat vigilant on his elevated chair, sunglasses reflecting the pool's rippling surface. "They're great, Ms. Baker," he replied, his eyes never leaving the swimmers. Sarah made a note on her clipboard. "And the chemical balance has been stable in the pool? They mentioned that we should check often the first week or so to see how its impacted once people get in." "Yep, checking it every two hours as requested." Marcus adjusted his whistle. Sarah nodded, not wanted to distract Marcus any further. She spent another hour at the pool, chatting with parents in the shade of large umbrellas and helping a tearful kindergartner locate her missing flip-flop. “It’s right here sweetie. It was UNDER your towel silly!” By Thursday afternoon, Sarah was exhausted. The works was satisfying, but she was looking forward to her weekend away with her sister and Matthew. “Matthew,” she said aloud to herself. She smiled thinking of the possibility that they would have together. ‘Still, it would have been nice to be able to see him around here during the day more.’ Though they went home together at the end of every day, Sarah couldn’t seem to find him, or even run into him during the day.” “It’s like we’re running circles around each other here. We must just constantly be missing each other!” Sarah explained to Rebecca as they went over the details for the weekend. "You know how he gets when he's deep into a project," Rebecca had said. "He probably found some cozy corner of the center to hide in with his laptop and figure out his next thing." But Sarah had checked every corner, or so she thought. The music room, the computer lab, the gymnasium—all without a trace of her husband. They had always been busy with people; kids playing Sweet Caroline, others molding clay, teenagers playing computer games. But no Matthew to be seen. The center had run smoothly despite his absence. "Or maybe it’s running smoothly because he is working so hard and I’m just not seeing it, locked up in here all day,” Sarah said to her sister. Still, something felt off, and Sarah couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something important. “Don’t worry about it Sar. Tomorrow we’ll head out in the afternoon, and you’re going to see him all weekend. And, well, we…well I, have uh..” Her sister went silent. Tomorrow they were supposed to drive to the vineyard with Rebecca and Daniel for Rebecca's birthday weekend. “Have what Becca?” Sarah asked. She could tell her sister wanted to talk about something. “It’s not important for now. Tomorrow. Well talk tomorrow. For now, go find Matthew.” _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________- Matthew Baker hadn't intended to spend his Monday morning at the recreation center. He'd planned to work from home, wrapping up some notes he had promised to send over to the company that had acquired his as a favor, and then to head over in the afternoon to help Sarah out. But something about the building called to him as he drove past, a gentle tug that he couldn't quite explain. He found himself pulling into the parking lot, coffee in hand, telling himself he'd just pop in to see how Sarah was doing, and then to head back home. Yet when he stepped through the side entrance, bypassing the main reception area, the cheerful sound of laughter ensnared him, and he found himself wandering towards it. The sounds grew louder as he approached a door marked "Music Room" up on the second floor. Inside, a dozen middle schoolers sat in a loose circle, each holding an instrument. A young woman with glasses and a bright scarf waved her arms enthusiastically, guiding them through what sounded like a beginner's attempt at "Sweet Caroline." Matthew lingered in the doorway, coffee forgotten in his hand. The instructor gave him a courteous wave before turning her attention to help one of the kids adjust their instrument. Spotting another kid struggling to adjust their seat, Matthew crossed the threshold of the room, and made his way toward the kid. "Hey there!" The instructor spotted him. "You're just in time. We need someone on keyboard." Matthew blinked, opening his mouth to explain that he was just passing by. It was off that she greeted him a second time, but he didn’t read into it. Still, he was the co-founder of the center, not a participant. "I don't really play," Matthew heard himself say, rather than explain who he was. "Perfect!" she said, as if his protest made complete sense. "This is a beginner's group. Come on in. We're practicing for a concert at the end of the summer!" Before he could object further, Matthew found himself being guided by the instructor and seated at an electronic keyboard next to a gangly boy with braces who offered him a fist bump. "I'm Max," the boy said. "First time?" "I... Yes,?" Matthew replied, his fingers hovering over the keys. ‘Better to be polite than be remembered as the rude husband of the director. “You as well?” Max nodded, turning back toward the instructor to wait for his cue. The instructor—Ms. Melody, the kids called her—placed a simplified sheet of music in front of everyone, including one for Matthew. "Just follow along with the colored notes. Blue is your right hand, red is your left." Matthew stared at the sheet. He'd taken piano lessons briefly as a child, quitting after three months much to the chagrin of his parents. ‘But I am not supposed to be here.’ Yet, before he could protest, Ms. Melody counted them in, his fingers found the keys with surprising ease. An hour later, Matthew emerged from the music room with a strange lightness in his chest. He'd completely forgotten about finding Sarah or returning to work. ‘I can’t believe I spent the whole morning…just playing the piano.’ When had he last done something on a Monday morning just because it was fun? His phone buzzed in his pocket—probably the company looking for their notes he promised. But rather than check it, he slipped it back, feeling an unexpected rebellion against responsibility. One day of exploration wouldn't hurt, would it? He had earned this break, after all. “They can wait until tomorrow,” Matthew found himself saying aloud, before heading back to his office for a short break, and then deciding to take Ralph on a hike. Tuesday morning arrived with the same inexplicable urge to visit the center. Matthew told himself he'd just stop by for an hour, this time actually to help Sarah, then head home to finish the notes he promised he’d provide. But as he stepped into the building, he found his mind became hazy, and he drifted about in the already crowded halls. ‘I mean…I’ll just make sure that everything is in order.’ Sarah, after all, had come home complaining about all the paperwork she had to do. ‘She’ll feel better knowing I am making sure all the programming is running smoothly,’ he told himself. This time, his feet carried him to the computer lab. Through the glass door, he saw rows of computers where high school-aged children clicked and typed under the supervision of a bearded man in a plaid shirt, and the kid who had introduced herself as Amy on their tour. Matthew stood, watching from the outside. He waved at Amy, who stared at him as though she had no idea who he was. He turned his gaze instead to the group of teenagers who were playing an online game together, one he was not familiar with. ‘Spent many hours in labs like this, but never gaming...’ Matthew reflected on the thought. “Ten minutes couldn’t hurt. Then, I’ll head back home.” Matthew walked to the door and pushed it open, stepping foot inside. Before he could say a word, Amy approached him. “Hey you! I was wondering when I’d get to see you again? First shift today? Or are you on break?” Amy’s energy was a sharp contrast to her treatment of him through the window. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief, happy that he hadn’t offended her. “Ah…not helping today. Just, you know, passing through to make sure all the programming is going smoothly” Amy returned the remark with a warm smile. “Well as long as you aren’t on the clock, why don’t you sit down and play a bit? It’s a neat cooperative game. It’s called “Amidst Us.” The players all work together to find the one imposter among you all. Its a fun and silly game!” Before Matthew could say no, Amy had turned him around with surprising ease, and guided him to an open computer. He found himself blushing. However, not wanting to be rude, he sat down, and opened the game on the computer. He turned to his left, to smile at the girl sitting beside him, before queueing into the game. Matthew found himself getting lost it the game. He barely noticed as some teens trickled in and out of the lab. Instead, he was completely immersed in the game. ‘The closest I’ve ever gotten to playing a computer game was testing the educational software I built,’ he thought stifling a laugh as he worked to catch the imposter in that round. “This is a blast!” A few heads turned to look at his sudden outburst, but Matthew barely noticed. Matthew had completely lost track of time, getting lost in the game in front of him. Mr. Ben, the supervisor, patted him on the shoulder. "You've got a knack for this. Unfortunately, we have a group of Kindergarteners coming into the room for a very basic class. You’re welcome to stay, but it may be a little boring for you." Matthew actually found himself considering it for a moment. But another glance around the room and he saw that Amy had left as well, and he was now alone. “Ah…Better I get back to work Mr. Ben. Thanks for the offer though. I’ll set Sarah know what a wonderful job you’re doing.” Matthew found himself leaving the computer lab with a big smile on his face. Behind him, Mr. Ben watched him look away with a short-lived face of confusion before a group of five and six year old kids strolled in. Heading back toward his office, he spotted Sarah, deep in conversation with one of the day care workers out in the playground. ‘Madison…..maybe,’ Matthew thought, trying to remember her name. Rather than bother her, he figured he would just meet her after, and so Matthew headed back into his office instead. Wednesday morning, Matthew stood in his home office, staring at his laptop. He had just wrapped up sending the long promised notes to acquiring company’s director. Soon after, his phone rang. It was Sarah. “Hi sweetie! What’s up?” Matthew greeted his wife. “Hi babe. Do you mind swinging by the recreation center this afternoon? I have to do some work at the pool, and I’d love if you could go check out the programming upstairs.” Matthew didn’t need to be asked twice. After two surprisingly fun days at the recreation center, he found he enjoyed supervising the programming. “Of course sweetie. I’ll be on the lookout for you when I get there too.” This time, Matthew moved through the building with growing anticipation. He found himself upstairs once again, passing the music rooms and a few multipurpose rooms with different activities going on in each. As he passed the art room, he found himself drawn in looking at a mosaic project someone had clearly been working on with great care. Walking in, Matthew began to approach the mosaic when he was interrupted and directed to sit down like the other middle schoolers. Shrugging, he sat and joined a table of students making clay sculptures. Intending only to watch at first, Matthew found himself completely drawn into the fun, and was soon wrist deep in molding clay, laughing with the others around him. As he left his office later that evening, he was happy to be able to report to Sarah, looking exhausted at her desk, that the art program was excellent, and that he’d even participated. “And there’s this beautiful mosaic someone in there has been working on. Its really amazing. Not just the mosaic,” Matthew added. “What’s amazing is this space you’ve created, where people are so free to have these opportunities Sar. I’ll admit, even I am having more fun than I thought there.” Sarah smiled at him, letting a breath of relief escape her lips. Part of Matthew wondered if he should be worried about this strange compulsion to spend so much time in the various programs. He'd built his identity on being driven, focused, achievement-oriented. Yet another part—a part growing stronger each day—simply didn't care. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Thursday afternoon brought a lull in Sarah's administrative whirlwind. She'd finally caught up on enrollment paperwork, finalized the July calendar, and sent out the monthly newsletter to parents. Sarah found that her office felt suddenly too quiet. Deciding that she hadn't ventured to the daycare wing yet this week, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to ensure that the youngest groups at her recreation center were being cared for. Sarah locked her computer screen and stood, smoothing her khaki skirt and adjusting the jade bracelet Diana had given her for Christmas The daycare wing occupied the north-eastern wing of the building, strategically positioned to catch the morning sunlight and shield the afternoon nap room from the heat. The space actually spanned both the main and lower floors, had its own entrance, and was designed to be self-sufficient. As Sarah pushed through the half-door at the entrance, the scent of baby lotion, lavender, and that indefinable sweet smell of young children enveloped her senses. The walls were painted a soft pink, adorned with handprint art and alphabet charts at a low eye level so the kids could see them. Cushy foam mats in primary colors covered the floor, dotted with brand new toys that Sarah had worked with Emily to carefully select. Jordan knelt beside a water table where three toddlers splashed with plastic boats, her dreadlocks tied back with a colorful scarf. "Remember, the water stays in the table," she reminded a chubby-cheeked boy who seemed determined to spill all the water he could on the floor around him. When she spotted Sarah, her face lit up. "Hey! Come to join the nautical adventures?" "Just observing the fleet," Sarah replied, crouching down to the children's level. "What are you sailing today, Captain?" The little boy held up a blue tugboat. "Dis goes fast," he announced solemnly. Sarah returned a smile, before heading elsewhere. Across the room, Madison sat cross-legged in the reading nook, a toddler on either side of her and one perched in her lap, all absorbed in a picture book about farm animals. Sarah noticed the child in Madison's lap wore a pull-up visible beneath his shorts, and one of the girls had the telltale bulk of a diaper beneath her sundress. "Ms. Sarah!" Madison called. "We're learning about pigs. Wanna hear Emma's impression?" The tiny girl in a purple dress scrunched up her nose and let out a surprisingly accurate "Oink!" that sent the other children into fits of giggles. Sarah applauded. "That's the best pig I've heard all day." A door opened from the adjoining room, and Helen Skipps emerged, clipboard in hand and reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her black hair was pulled back in its customary precise bun, and as she approached, Sarah felt confident she had selected a great supervisor. "Sarah, wonderful to see you venturing to our corner of the universe," Helen said, her voice carrying that blend of warmth and efficiency that Sarah had come to associate with her. "Just updating our supplies log. We're running low on the size five diapers, but seem okay on the rest. It appears to be a popular size for us." Sarah nodded. "I'll order more tomorrow and update the recurring shipment to include more of those. Everything else okay?" "Smoothly, all things considered." Helen gestured to a little boy being led to the changing table by one of the other assistants. "Theo there has decided toilet training is against his personal philosophy, but otherwise, we're making progress with a lot of the others, even one week in It’s all about reinforcement at home though." As they spoke, a little girl with beaded braids tugged at Sarah's skirt. "Are you the book lady?" she asked, brown eyes serious. Sarah looked questioningly at Helen, who smiled. “We had a guest reader yesterday. They think you’re here to read a book" "I'd love to be the book lady," Sarah said, realizing she meant it, thinking that one day she’d be able to do this for her own child. "Story time, everyone! Ms. Sarah is our special reader today." Jordan and Madison efficiently guided their charges to the rug, helping the smaller ones find spots and gently separating two boys who immediately began to poke each other. Helen handed Sarah a new copy of "Where the Crazy Things Are." Sarah settled into the low chair facing the children, and like second nature, she started. "The night Max wore his wolf suit..." _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Across the building, Matthew pushed open the door to the gymnasium, drawn by the squeaks of sneakers on polished wood and the hollow thud of a basketball hitting the backboard. He figured he would jog on the track elevated above the court, watching below as the free play period went on, and let Sarah know how it went. Marcus Rodriguez stood at half-court, directing a game of three-on-three between a group of teenagers. His red lifeguard shorts had been exchanged for basketball shorts and a faded t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, whistle still hanging around his neck out of habit. Before Matthew even made it to the staircase on the edge, Marcus called out to him "Hey dude. Matt my man. Over here. We need one more. You in? Or are you working?” Taken back by his familiarity with him, Matthew headed in Marcus’ direction. ‘Why not,’ Matthew decided. ‘It is a community center after all.’ It wouldn’t hurt to get to know his wife’s employee "Yeah….man,” Matthew added, hoping that his use of “cooler” language might make them feel more comfortable playing with the boss’s husband. "Cool. You’re with Carlos and Mikey—they're down by four." Matthew joined the two boys Marcus directed him to. They greeted him with casual fist bumps, as if his he was just one of the guys, not at all questioning why a thirty-something co-founder of the center was joining their game. "I'm a little rusty," Matthew warned as they took their positions. "No worries," said the taller boy—Carlos, he assumed. "Just keep Jeff from driving to the basket. He always goes right." The ball was checked in, and suddenly Matthew was moving. He found himself fully immersed in the game, the concerns of his adult life evaporating with each dribble and pass. He didn't overthink his moves or worry about how he looked. He didn’t care that he wasn’t great. He simply played, laughing when he missed, celebrating when his team scored, even trash-talking in a way that hopefully didn’t cross any lines. Players in and out. Between games, Matthew got to know Marcus better, who was an incredibly kind and cool person. As game after game passed, the afternoon sun slanted through the high windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. "Sorry guys. That’s all for me. I got some stuff to do.” Matthew said, dripping with sweat. "Same time next week?" Marcus asked as they dispersed, the other boys heading for water bottles and discarded phones. "Wouldn't miss it," Matthew replied, surprising himself with how much he meant it. He found himself thinking of the game as he wandered back toward the hallway that led to his office. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Sarah sank into her office chair as the recreation center quieted around her. The Thursday evening children's programs were winding down, parents collecting tired kids whose energy had finally been depleted by a day of swimming, crafts, and play. She kicked off her flats under the desk and flexed her toes, wincing at the soreness that came from a day spent mostly on her feet. Four days. She'd survived four full days of summer programming, and the center hadn't collapsed around her. But beneath the accomplishment lurked a question she couldn't ignore: could she keep this up? She'd worn every hat this week—administrator, receptionist, playground monitor, swim instructor, storyteller—and while the variety kept things interesting, the pace felt unsustainable. Sarah glanced at her watch. Eight thirty. Most of the staff had left, parents and children long gone. She should head home too. She got up and headed to Matthew’s office, wondering what he wanted to do for dinner. “We aren’t cooking tonight.” Matthew sat in his office, sweat still dripping down his face. The week had been wonderful so far. The simple joy of play, he realized. The laughter that came easily without the weight of adult concerns. The physical freedom of running, jumping, and playing without self-consciousness. Matthew ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The door swung open, and Sarah stood in the doorway, surprise washing over her tired features. "You're here," she said, the smile extending across her face. Matthew swiveled his chair to face her. "Just catching up on some things. I was shooting a basketball around with some of the workers. They are really nice. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get to know them better. Her eyebrows rose. "Basketball? You Matthew? That’s the surprise. No wonder I haven’t seen you much! I've checked your office every day. But thank you for going to the activity rooms for me." He couldn't explain that he'd been in the building but somehow not himself—not in any way understood himself at this point. Instead, he offered the simple truth, "Yah! I've been moving around. Different spaces. Getting a feel for how everything's working. It’s all been great so far. You really pulled it off.” A small smile touched her lips. "So," Sarah said, breaking into his thoughts, "are we still on for tomorrow? Rebecca will kill us if we miss her birthday weekend. She's been texting me all day.” ‘The vineyard trip,’ Matthew remembered . The thought of spending the weekend with Rebecca and Daniel, making small talk over wine flights and charcuterie boards, suddenly seemed exhausting. ‘It’s probably just been a long day,’ he decided. "Right, the vineyard," he said with enthusiasm, remembering he did in fact really enjoy wine. "What time are we leaving?" "I told them we'd pick them up around ten." Sarah watched him carefully. "Jill is going to take over for me the next three days. I just hope she doesn’t call with anything serious.” “Perfect," he said finally. "Ten works." Sarah nodded, though her eyes still held questions. "Let’s head home then. I just want to crawl into bed with you. I am wiped.”

Sarah shrugs. "I don't know. It just seems a little too suspicious to be not connected somehow. I never had any daytime accidents and suddenly have two in one day." Sarah thinks for a moment. "They have a lab. So they could make something to cause someone to wet or mess themselves or use hypnosis. There is always music playing in the daycare. It wouldn't be hard to hide a hypnotic message in it to make children need diapers longer or make kids who are out of them need them again. Think about it. Size 5 was the biggest diaper. Then size 6 came along. Now there is size 7 and 8. Before long potty training will not a distant memory and everyone will be in diapers." Sarah smiles as grandma mentions sprinkles. "Yes please."

Granny chuckles opening the ice cream and starting to scoop it. "Sara why would you think that? Nobody there knows you and how would someone make you go potty in your diaper? Plus from what I heard you actually had a pretty fun day..." granny says with a knowing smile with a few scoops of ice cream in the bright pink bowl. "Now do you want sprinkles or anything on your ice cream?"

My boyfriend changes me with regularity as I do him. Having wet diapers is normal for us.

Hi everyone, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately — I’ve been working through some personal stuff. There’s something important I want to share about myself. Inside me, there are two versions of Jamie: one big and one little. When I’m overwhelmed or overstimulated, little Jamie tends to come forward as a way of coping and protecting big Jamie. While regression used to feel playful, I’ve come to understand it as a response to deeper needs — something I’ve been exploring with care and support. Big Jamie doesn’t always visit this space, because sometimes being here can trigger regression. Lately, I’ve been learning to find balance and healthier outlets, but that doesn’t mean I feel any less supported by this community. Quite the opposite. Big Jamie loves talking about tech and childhood nostalgia. Little Jamie loves silly things like burps and farts, and has a very strong love for teddy bears. I’m still me — just someone who experiences life in two very different moods. I hope to stay active here, and I just wanted to be more open about what brought me here in the first place.

One eye halfway works. I think that I'm required to wear a victorian dress and carry a lace umbrella if I get an old fashioned opera spectacle?

It's apparently not going to get better. Listen, in his situation, I would 100% torment Bigs by trying to get them to drink my Spriten Up.

U.S. Air Force 84-88 Served in Southern Italy, and Wright Patterson.

I missed this new chapter. I kept seeing new notifications but every time I looked it was just another comment. I enjoyed this chapter. The party sounds like it is going to be very fun and interesting. Herb is definitely a bigger man than I am. I doubt that I would ever allow a stranger to diaper me. I am looking forward to seeing more. I haven’t asked lately but I hope you are recovering well. I do think about you and pray for the best.

The Nursery Trials A story by SolaraScott Chapter 45 - Balancing Act. The air was thick with the scent of humiliation. Around Ivy, the soft groans of the other contestants filled the cavernous nursery-living room hybrid. The crinkle of diapers swelling to contain the contestant's messes, the rustle of onesies shifting against bloated bottoms—every sound reinforcing Ivy’s humiliation of being in the nursery. Five bodies lay out across the carpeted floor, each one now bearing the uncomfortable fullness of a freshly soiled diaper, some whimpering quietly, some merely panting through clenched teeth. Ivy stayed still among them for a moment longer, letting the warmth of her shame settle beneath her, warm and sticky between her cheeks, squishing with each movement. Ivy rolled to her side first, taking her time, letting her motions lag with feigned sluggishness. The milk sloshed faintly in her stomach, and while it may not have contained any laxatives, Ivy still felt discomfort at the feeling. She moved with feigned labor, her joints acting as if they were stiff, her muscles weak, all part of the act. Her mittened hands slid beneath her, pressing into the carpet as she pushed herself upright onto her hands and knees. She allowed her arms to tremble visibly, a shaky rise that made it seem like she could collapse again at any moment. The bulk of her filled diaper swayed beneath her as she adjusted her weight, her breath coming in short, panting bursts. Not too fast, she told herself, enough to blend in. Mason had managed to roll onto his front, dragging himself forward with sluggish motions. Maria whimpering but crawling. Sarah crawled behind her with her head down and her face flushed, while Finn grunted softly with each shift of his limbs. Ivy glanced at them, studying their movements, pacing, and coordination—or lack thereof—and matched it with careful, deliberate imperfection. Every crawl was a struggle, and every inch gained looked hard-won. Before them, nestled into a plastic platform framed with bright, childish colors, was a set of oversized letter blocks. Each block was thick and foam-like, with a single letter printed on each face in bold primary colors. Next to the blocks were wooden boards, upright like activity stations, each one with cutouts shaped for the blocks. The challenge seemed obvious enough: a word puzzle. And, perhaps more importantly, a test of who could function—and who was pretending not to. Ivy crawled toward them, her diaper squishing beneath her with every movement, the warmth shifting in uncomfortable waves. Her breath caught in her throat as she approached, and she let it out in a staggered pant, her tongue brushing her lips as if they were dry from the effort. Once she reached the blocks, she made a show of collapsing down onto her backside with a dramatic plop, wincing as her mess mushed about her bottom before reaching for the first block. Her fingers, clumsy in their mittens, pawed at the block’s edge. She could feel its foam texture through the padded cloth. The letter was A—bright red, with a cartoon apple drawn beneath it. She frowned, eyes narrowing slightly, and looked at the slots on the nearby board. Ivy turned her head slightly, watching the others. They were doing their best—some moving slower than others, some fumbling the blocks repeatedly, as if their limbs refused to cooperate. But none of them were entirely useless. They moved, if poorly, which meant Ivy had to to as well. She lifted the A with both hands, arms wobbling for effect, and shifted toward the board. Her body leaned heavily to the side as she reached for the second slot, lips parted with faux concentration. Play dumb, she told herself. But not too dumb. Ivy stared at the block in her hands—yellow Y, and then at the slots on the board before her. B, A, B… it didn’t take a genius. She wasn’t sure if the other contestants were truly slowed, dulled by the effects of the medicine, or just acting like she was, but one thing was obvious: this challenge wasn’t designed to test intellect. It was a demonstration of helplessness. She hesitated, blinking slowly, then reached forward. Her mitten slipped on the block, sending it tumbling to the side with a muffled thump. She let out a high-pitched whine, something between a sigh and a babble, drawing on the same feigned frustration she’d used during bottle time. Slowly, she scooped it back up and brought it to the board again, taking exaggerated effort to align it with the slot. When it clicked into place, she let herself flop slightly, panting like it had taken everything she had. As the final block was inserted, a soft green light lit up beside her board. BABY. The word glowed with cheerful finality, mocking her. She could almost hear Mistress’s voice in the back of her mind, cooing praise for her good little effort, but Ivy forced herself not to react. She turned toward the next part of the trial and froze. At the far end of the living room, a door had opened, and through it stepped something wrong. It moved with grace, but its size immediately struck her—taller than any person she’d ever seen, the shape of a woman exaggerated to unsettling degrees. The robotic figure strode across the carpeted floor with mechanical precision, her joints whirring softly with each step. Her face was porcelain-smooth, carved into an impossibly serene smile that never wavered. Uncanny eyes blinked once, then fixed on Finn, who had just finished the block challenge ahead of Ivy. She knelt, her large metal arms extending outward in an eerie parody of maternal welcome. “Come on, baby,” she said, her voice sing-song and syrup-thick. “Crawl to Mommy!” Finn looked back, caught Ivy’s gaze—and for a moment, neither of them moved. There was an understanding there, a shared flicker of dread, but also resignation. Finn turned away, bracing himself, and began to crawl forward. His progress was labored. Each movement was a struggle; his arms slipped once, then twice, his body swaying with the effort of staying upright. The thick diaper between his legs crinkled and squished with every shift, the onesie clinging to him. But he didn’t stop, nor did he speak; he only breathed heavily, panting through the exertion. He reached her at last. She scooped him up in one effortless motion, lifting his entire body like he weighed nothing. Her arms cradled him with fluid smoothness, her fingers brushing over his ribs with a feather-light touch. Then came the tickling. It started gently—just a flutter against his sides—but Finn twitched in her grasp. His head tossed back a moment later, and a squeal of laughter escaped his lips. Ivy flinched as he laughed, a choked, helpless sound that turned into gasping laughter as he squirmed and writhed in her arms. The robot woman cooed affectionately, bouncing him slightly before turning and carrying him toward the doorway. Finn tried—weakly—to push her hands away, but the woman held him firmly. Involuntary giggles swallowed his protests as she disappeared through the door with him. Ivy sat there watching the space he had just occupied. So the medicine makes you more ticklish, she thought bitterly. Of course it does. Her gut churned—not just at what had happened to Finn, but at what was coming next. The robotic woman returned moments later, her porcelain smile unchanged, her arms empty. She crossed the living room with the same gliding grace and came to a stop directly in front of Ivy. Sarah had just finished her puzzle and was panting softly beside her. But the figure knelt once more and opened her arms wide for Ivy. Her voice chirped: “Come on, baby. Crawl to Mommy.” Showtime. Ivy whimpered softly and let her arms shake as she pushed herself forward. She reached the towering robotic woman in only a few crawling paces, though every inch was filled with calculated imperfection—her arms trembling, her knees slipping on the soft floor, her breath coming out in huffs and weak whimpers. She kept her eyes low, limbs awkward, trying her best to mimic the drugged, sluggish movements of the others. Then the woman's long, mechanical arms closed around her, lifting her off the ground in a single fluid motion, and Ivy braced herself for what came next. Cool, segmented fingers brushed against her sides, dancing with unnerving gentleness. Ivy jerked in the android's grip, legs twitching, and forced a peal of giggles from her lips. It wasn’t easy. The laughter felt unnatural, like she was pushing it through her teeth rather than letting it bubble up. But she squealed and squirmed, twisting in the woman’s hold just as she’d seen Finn do. Her arms wiggled helplessly in her mittens, her back arching, breath hitching in staged, breathless laughter. “That’s my happy girl,” the android woman cooed, cradling Ivy closer. Ivy pressed her face against the synthetic fabric of the woman’s shoulder and let out one final giggle, then went limp, panting dramatically. The woman turned, carrying Ivy from the bright living room through another sliding door. The hum of machines gave way to soft music—nursery rhymes played at a low volume, looping gently beneath the faint whir of fans. The air smelled faintly of baby powder, finger paint, and plastic toys. The lights dimmed to a soft pastel glow, and Ivy blinked as her eyes adjusted. She was lowered to the floor with robotic grace and plopped down onto her thickly padded rear with a muffled thump, the diaper beneath her squishing from the impact and making her grimace. Her knees bent, booties splayed out to either side, and her arms bobbed in front of her as the weight of her onesie pulled at her shoulders. For a moment, she just sat there, taking it all in. The room was vast. Larger than any playroom she’d ever seen. A surreal, oversized daycare. To her left was a wall of wooden cribs, each big enough to hold a full-grown adult. Blankets and plush toys spilled from them. Above the cribs, a painted mural showed animals napping under a cartoon sun—giraffes in footed pajamas, smiling elephants curled up with pacifiers. Across the far side stood an array of changing tables complete with restraints and shelves of wipes, powders, and folded diapers. Between them stood open cubbies labeled with cartoonish names: “Snugglebug,” “Button,” “Princess,” “Bunny.” Not a single real name in sight. The center of the room was carpeted in bright foam tiles, forming a sprawling play area. Toys were scattered in every direction—stacking rings, dolls, blocks, puzzles, all grotesquely sized. A short bookshelf hugged one wall, its books thick and brightly colored, oversized and soft like they were meant for toddlers with poor motor control. A reading corner was tucked into a plush nook with beanbags and a hanging mobile that spun slowly overhead. There was even a small climbing structure—padded ramps and slides no more than a few feet high, with soft netting all around. And just beside her, sitting on his knees at a low plastic table, was Finn. He didn’t look up. His tongue poked out slightly in concentration, his oversized mittened hand struggling to grip a crayon, nearly the size of a hairbrush—and he was scribbling across a coloring sheet in wide, aimless loops. The page was a cartoon baby lion, grinning and drooling, and Finn was trying to color its mane in orange. Trying, and failing. Ivy let her eyes fall to the empty coloring sheet in front of her. Another cartoon animal. She reached for a crayon with both mittens, letting her fingers fumble. The moment the soft rubber touched her palm, she exhaled through her nose and hunched forward, as if grasping it took all her strength. Finn looked up from his coloring page, meeting Ivy’s eyes with a long, quiet glance that held far more than words. Frustration, uncertainty, and the deep ache of being trapped in a body no longer entirely your own. He opened his mouth as if to speak—just a word, maybe her name—but the moment sound emerged, it dissolved into soft, helpless babble. “Muh… buh… guh…” His mouth shut slowly. His expression sagged with a quiet sigh, his gaze dropping to the crayon gripped in his mittens. He didn’t try again, and Ivy didn’t blame him. She offered no nod of comfort, no returned look of sympathy, just bent her head in mirrored silence and started her coloring, the thick crayon pressing against the page in uneven, dragging strokes. Set in a plastic tray at the center of the table were a series of pacifiers, each one cradled in a protective bubble of molded casing, glossy and pastel like candies behind glass. Ivy hadn’t noticed them at first. Not until her eyes wandered between crayon strokes, taking in the room with the sharpened focus of someone desperate to stay one step ahead. And as her gaze landed on the pacifiers, an idea bloomed in her mind. What if the pacifiers weren’t just props? What if they were part of the conditioning? It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Mistress had said the “medicine” would make movement, speech, and control difficult. But perhaps that wasn’t all, maybe it did something more insidious—something emotional. A need to nurse. If that were true, and if Ivy really was the only one spared from the drug’s effects… Then she had to play the part. Before doubt could root itself too deeply, Ivy made her move. She let the crayon tumble from her mittened fingers with an exaggerated clack. She leaned forward, grabbed the edge of one pacifier case with both hands, and fumbled it open. The pacifier within was oversized, soft pink with a rounded mouth guard and a bulbous teat. She plucked it up, turned it once in her fingers like she was unsure, and then popped it into her mouth. She closed her lips around it, hesitating just long enough to seem unsure, then began to suck. The motion was awkward at first. She had to fight her instincts, and her mind screamed against it. But she let her jaw move slowly, rhythmically, just enough to show that she was nursing. Her brows relaxed, and she forced a soft exhale from her nose, letting her shoulders drop, and prayed she wasn’t wrong. From the corner of her eye, she caught Finn watching her. Not overtly, but his eyes flicked from her face to the pacifier, then back. She didn’t look at him; she just kept nursing—gently, rhythmically—and returned to coloring, with crayons clutched weakly between both hands. Finn reached toward the tray, his mitten skimming the plastic casing until he found one. He popped it open with uncoordinated fingers and lifted the pacifier free. For a heartbeat, he held it there, staring down at the silicone bulb as though it were something foreign. Then, with a deep breath and a soft grunt, he slid it into his mouth. His shoulders instantly slumped, his brow smoothed. His entire body, tense and jittery just seconds ago, settled like a string finally loosened. He suckled once, twice, then began to nurse in earnest. Ivy felt a small breath escape her lips, quiet and full of relief. It had worked; she had been right. Then came the soft whir of hydraulics, the faint footfalls of a towering presence, and Sarah was plopped down beside Ivy with all the grace of a sack of flour. She landed with a squeak, her diaper squishing beneath her, her onesie creasing at the knees. Her breath was short, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide and scanning. She looked at Finn, Ivy, the table, and the crayons. Then at the pacifiers. She watched them nurse, then studied the coloring pages, their uneven strokes, and slowly, almost cautiously, Sarah reached for a pacifier of her own. She didn’t hesitate long. She popped it into her mouth and began to nurse. Her eyes closed for just a second as her body visibly relaxed. Ivy’s coloring was, by any standard, a disaster. The lines might as well have been suggestions. The baby lion’s mane was a garish swirl of red and orange, its body an uneven patchwork of yellows, greens, and, inexplicably, a bold streak of blue that had no place there. The crayon in her mittened grip had slipped half a dozen times, smudging thick wax across the table and even the sleeve of her onesie. It was a mess. Exactly the kind of mess a drugged, clumsy little baby might make. Which was the point. When the page was finally filled in—if not correctly, then at least completely—Ivy let the crayon fall from her mitten and slumped back slightly, nursing the pacifier as though drained. The towering robotic woman stepped over the padded threshold of the playmat and loomed above her. Her eyes—if they could be called that—scanned the table, then focused on Ivy’s finished page. The robot cooed, a chime of digital joy layered with an unsettling sweetness, and Ivy barely had time to brace herself before she was scooped up in a practiced motion. Her diaper squished beneath her as she was lifted, cradled against the android’s synthetic hip like a well-behaved toddler showing off her macaroni art. “Awww, look at this!” the woman chirped, holding up the paper. “You did such a good job, baby girl! Such pretty colors!” The praise was syrupy, thick with forced excitement, each word hitting Ivy like a pat on the head from someone who didn’t think she could spell her name. The robot carried her toward one of the walls, where children’s drawings had been tacked up with pastel tape and adhesive stars. She fixed Ivy’s scribbled masterpiece right in the center with theatrical care, placing it under a heading that read “Our Bestest Artwork!” in foam bubble letters. Then, reaching up with her free hand, she turned to the oversized class calendar just to the right. A laminated list of names had been scrawled across it—each contestant’s name written in bright marker. Beside Ivy, the android added a glittering gold star. Ivy’s jaw clenched behind the pacifier. She had never wanted to roll her eyes more in her life. She didn’t. Instead, she forced her eyes wide, lifted her mittened hands to her chest, and let out a stream of excited giggles—each one carefully pitched, airy, and innocent, as though the star truly meant something to her. She wriggled in the woman’s grasp as if overcome with delight, her cheeks flushed, not from joy but from the exhausting pretense of pretending joy. The robot spun slightly, turning them away from the calendar wall and toward the reading corner. Ivy’s eyes dropped, and she saw them. No. Please, no. A row of bouncers. Five, spaced evenly, each one decorated in bright pastel colors. The kind designed for toddlers just learning to sit upright, their elastic cords promising both containment and humiliating bounces with every movement. The sight alone made her stomach churn. She tried to shift subtly in the robot’s arms, to resist, but the android was already kneeling, already threading her legs through the wide holes. “Time for cartoons, baby girl!” the robotic voice trilled, fastening Ivy into place with efficient clicks of shoulder and waist straps. Ivy winced as her already messy diaper was squished and compressed against her, spreading with a thick, clammy heat that made her want to scream. Then the robot gestured toward a panel set into the bookshelf, disguised as part of the structure but unmistakably technological. A screen blinked to life. Cheerful, high-pitched, and cloying music played, the kind of tune meant to hypnotize the very young or very drugged. Bright shapes spun on the screen, and then came the characters. Naomi and Oliver. All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott Heh, I feel like almost every contestant left is in some kind of trouble. 🤭 Super glad to hear you are enjoying it! This is a very fun, and kinky story! We are getting down to the last chapters... Who do you think is going to take home the prize? Though, does anyone truly win Mistress's twisted games?

I wake up in wet cotton diapers and plastic panties every morning. I was a bedwetter until my mid teens, dry at night thru my 20's and 30's. Started wetting the bed again rarely in my late 30's, and it slowly increased over the years, to where I now wet every night again. The big difference between wetting as a kid and wetting now, is my diaper pail is much bigger now. 😆

19. It was still dark when Chris woke up. Unlike some real babies such as Katie, who snored quietly nearby, he didn’t need twelve hours of sleep every night. He had a vague memory of someone feeding him a bottle during the night, so he wasn’t hungry yet, but whoever that was didn’t change him and his diaper had reached its limits. A quick check revealed that his onesie and the sheet were damp, so apparently it was already past capacity and had leaked. As far as he could tell he hadn’t pooped himself, but the ability to tell even that was diminishing by the day. He sat in dirty diapers for such extended periods that the odor seemed to sit inside his nose even when he wasn’t soiled, so his sense of smell wasn’t any help. Lying there wide awake without any idea of when someone would come to change him wasn’t the only annoyance. Only one day into their stay at the resort and he already felt like he’d descended into hell. His biggest desire less than 24 hours ago had been not to draw too much attention to himself and that had been achieved, but it was a pyrrhic victory. The fact that all of the women here reacted to him as if he were a true infant instead of a grown man being treated like one, and for the most part giving him no more than a passing glance, surprisingly made him feel worse. As if he had lost his adult identity and belonged in diapers, wearing baby clothes and being bottle fed with no chance of return. Eventually, Katie began to stir and make some noise, which brought Beth into the room. Maybe he needed to pay attention to the sounds she makes, mimic them, and condition Amy to respond in the same way. It was several minutes later before Amy appeared, of course with bottle in hand. As she climbed into the crib to feed him she cried out when her hand landed in the rather large wet spot, and instead helped lower him to the floor for his feed, calling out to Lily to notify housekeeping. When Chris finally finished the bottle, he was surprised when Amy tied a bib around his neck and produced a bowl of runny oatmeal with green vegetables stirred in. “Breakfast in the room today, baby,” she told him. “We want to get to the beach before it gets too hot.” She backed up her stated desire to save time by spooning mush into his mouth faster than he could swallow, with predictable results. One more bib into the hamper, covered in as much food as made it into his stomach. Amy led him to the playpen while everyone scurried to get ready to go. When Amy returned, she was in a revealing striped bikini which Chris recognized from a pool party they’d attended while they were still dating. He was enthralled with and turned on by it then, but now it saddened him to view it as her child instead of as her lover. In her hands she carried a pale pink and yellow one-piece suit with flower pedals scattered around it. “Isn’t this adorable?” she asked rhetorically. “You’ll be the talk of the beach.” As she fed his feet through the leg holes and pulled it up his body, she paused. “Oops. I should have changed you first. No big deal, any leaks will just look like you’d been in the water. Besides, we can change you there.” Chris cringed. He knew he stunk of pee and his bottom itched, but he’d prefer being stinky and itchy to being changed out in the open. It took all his restraint not to say something or somehow signal his displeasure. He feared the consequences of acting out more than any public diaper change. It still took several minutes to get out the door, with one dash back to the room to get a forgotten hat and extra sunscreen. They apparently made a wrong turn once but found the path to the beach and soon Chris could see the sand and water in the distance. The group unexpectedly stopped when they reached the edge of the sand, where a large sign announced they were at the right place. “Private Beach Reserved for Guests of the Resort Only,” it announced, for which Chris was grateful. No outsiders would see him this way. His relief was short lived when he heard Beth titter, and he read a second notice posted beneath the first. “Clothing Optional,” it said. “Sorry, I’m going to the pool,” the women’s mom announced. “No one wants to see this old body.” Beth agreed to accompany her, leaving Amy, Lily, and Chris to forge ahead. They were forced to abandon the stroller and Amy allowed Chris to waddle beside her as long as he held her hand. As usual, Chris kept his eyes down to avoid seeing the stares he was used to suffering. “I see one umbrella nobody’s using,” Lily said, leading them further down the beach. Only after Amy spread out a couple of beach towels in the shade and lowered Chris to the ground did he dare look up. Despite having read the sign, he wasn’t ready for what he saw. There may have been twenty or thirty women on the beach and every one was topless, with most having forgone their bottoms as well. Just a few feet on either side of them were naked women sunning themselves or reading a book while nursing a drink. “When in Rome...” Lily said, unhooking her top and letting it fall to the sand while she lowered her bottoms. Amy shrugged her shoulders and did the same. Chris was beyond uneasy. He hadn’t seen Amy unclothed in forever, and with his sister-in-law sitting at his side completely nude, he didn’t know where to focus his eyes. In every direction were women in the buff. That Lily didn’t hesitate to strip down in his presence again made him aware of how the women had begun to view him. As a baby girl, not a man in any sense of the word. His train of thought was broken by a voice coming from their left. “She’s so cute, what’s her name?” Chris tried to find the source of the voice without staring but even a quick peek was enough. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, with blond hair and freckles, and a body to die for. And he could see all of it. To his horror, she pulled her lounge chair closer directly in his line of sight as the women began to chat. He tried to close his eyes and considered pretending to nap, but Amy plopped a plastic pail and shovel in front of him, expecting him to engage himself with the baby toys. In doing so, there was no way to avoid clear visions of the three women surrounding him. A few minutes later, he saw all three women freeze still for a moment and look directly at him. A telltale odor followed seconds later. His worst nightmare was coming true. He’d dirtied himself in front of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, not to mention his naked wife and her equally nude sister. And there was nowhere to hide. “I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “Do you know where the restroom is?” “Don’t be silly,” the stranger, who identified herself as Gretchen, responded. “You can change her right here, I don’t mind. I babysat myself through college and watch my niece all the time. A stinky diaper doesn’t bother me, in fact I’d be happy to help.” Chris waited to hear Amy decline her offer, but instead felt himself being gently lowered back onto the towel. Amy unzipped the ever-present diaper bag while Gretchen positioned herself between Chris’s legs, her breasts swinging gently inches from his face. He was so distracted that he didn’t see the pacifier coming until Amy pushed it between his lips. Lily and Amy lowered one shoulder of the swimsuit each, allowing Gretchen to pull it off the rest of the way. “Phew,” she said, laughing as she turned her head, “she did a number on this diaper. I think we’ll need a lot of wipes.” And she did. Eventually all three women contributed to the cleanup, although Gretchen handled his more private areas herself and took extra time to make sure they were clean. When she was done, she took two more wipes to clean her hands. “I think after all that, we deserve a drink,” she said smiling as she signaled the resort employee over. “What will you have?” Soon all three women were relaxing and having the time of their lives getting to know each other while imbibing tropical drinks and nibbling on nachos. The beach began to get more crowded. Chris noticed that there were no other children among the beachgoers. “Would you like to go in for a swim?” Gretchen asked the other women. “I can watch Kristie.” Chris was offended by how quickly and enthusiastically they accepted the offer, and he watched their naked bottoms disappear into the water. He apparently was too obvious in his distress. “Don’t worry, little one, Mommy will be back soon,” Gretchen soothed. “No need to cry. Here, maybe a bottle will be just what baby needs.” She reached into the side pocket of his diaper bag and pulled out a bottle full of formula. “No need to warm this up today,” she said to herself. She moved behind Chris to have a view of the beach while she positioned him across her lap. As she removed his pacifier, her nipple grazed his lips. “Uh hu, baby, not that one,” she said gently as she placed the bottle’s nipple in his mouth. Chris’s face was nuzzled into her exposed boob and he knew that inches away from his diapered bottom was her naked crotch. If ever there was a situation for him to respond down there, this was it, but other than the usual internal tingle, he could tell nothing was happening. Inside, he cursed Lily. He was still nursing when Amy and Lily returned. They were unphased by his being fed by this woman with nothing to cover her, again making him feel emasculated. After another round of drinks, they decided they’d had enough sun and sand and began gathering up their belongings, exchanging contact information with Gretchen, who leaned down to Chris, giving him a peck on the forehead as she said “Bye bye.” Coincidentally, they arrived back at the room at the same time as Beth, their mom, and Katie, who was extremely fussy. “She needs lunch and a nap,” Beth told the group. “But I’m starving too. Should we call Anna and go get a real meal?” “No need,” Lily replied. “Let’s restock the diaper bags and turn right back around. We can drop the girls off at the daycare center where they can be fed and put down for a nap. We can be at a table in the restaurant in ten minutes.” And so they did.

She knew you messed your diaper. My wife is like Google or AI, she knows everything!!

I think it's a joke but I can never tell with that girl smh. Also her diaper smells awful 🤢

I sometimes think that you don’t really know if you like something unless you still like it when you’re sick - or at least, it’s a good way to weed out kinks from needs. I have had a crashing head cold for the last several days - absolutely unable to breathe, headaches, sore throat, the works. It’s been miserable. I’ve never been so thankful for my diapers! Last night I could barely sleep, but finally passed out in a cold medicine-induced fog. I har the clearest pee dream I’ve had in quite a while - literally, I was just sitting on the toilet pissing. I woke up immediately and found myself indeed in the middle of a wee. I was so happy to it’s be able to skootch down and get comfortable again to fall back asleep. Thank goodness for my padding!

Part 5 That nail? It came in the form of a simple sentence meant to reassure her of her mother’s preparedness. “If you have an accident all you have to do is let me know and we can get you all changed”, Patrice said, patting her bag. Wait, Cara thought. D-did did she not know then? A wave of relief washed over her followed almost immediately by an equally intense wave of utter mortification. “Wait, MOM! What do you mean!? What’s in your bag?!” Cara asked. “Sweetie, it’s not a big deal. I just grabbed a couple of extra pull-ups in case you need a change. Plus some baby wipes for cleaning you up. I’d much rather that you tell me when you have an accident so I can give them to you than that you sit in your own pee pee and get a diaper rash”. Pee pee? Change? DIAPER RASH?! Cara’s brain nearly collapsed in on itself as her face blazed and her mouth started of its own accord with a whining, “MOOOOOOOM! No! This is too far! Put them back! Put them back now! I’m not a little kid and I don’t need more pul-more of… them!” A quick smack to her butt was all it took to pull Cara up short, releasing her third surprised spurt of pee into the pull-ups and ironically proving how much she truly did need those backups. It hadn’t hurt too much, mostly because the pullup and shorts were protecting her sore behind. What it had done was shock her out of her whining and remind her of what was at stake if she continued with that course of behavior. Damn, was her mom onto something?! Was this… effective? Maybe if Cara had a bit more of that guidance she wouldn’t have failed her two community college courses from last semester, she thought . She hadn’t mentioned that to her parents, of course. Only taking the two classes and working a few hours a week doing basically nothing at the office, it would be hard to break it to them that she hadn’t applied herself at all. But that was a conversation she would definitely not be bringing up until this ridiculous power trip of her mom’s was over. Sure it was their money, but hey, they’re the ones who said she had to go to school or get a job! She would have been happy to just hang out. Cara was so lost in thought that she didn’t even think to protest as her mother again began leading her by the hand to the car, even going so far as to buckle the stunned girl’s seatbelt for her. It was only when her sister chuckled next to her that she snapped out of it and sent a scathing look that way. “-know we were aiming for 9, but we had some… things to handle. Sorry, hon”, came the end of Cara’s mom’s sentiment. “So you had trouble getting her into the pull-ups?”, her dad asked in slightly hushed tones, though not quiet enough that Cara, and surely Ryan could hear it a few feet behind. It wasn’t an especially large car. “We’ll talk more when we get there, but trouble is an understatement. I did what we talked about and we are going to be keeping her on a short leash this weekend”, Patrice said back, not quite as hushed. Cara blushed deeper and just looked out the window at the passing trees as they made their way towards the highway. Normally she would bark back at them for talking about her like she wasn’t even there, but the slight soreness in her butt was enough to make her bite her tongue. “Ah, so that’s why she’s having trouble sitting still”, her dad whispered, to Cara’s absolute horror. And she realized, with even more embarrassment, that he was right. She had been having trouble getting comfortable and part of that was the sore butt. Some of it was also the fact that she hadn’t had a chance to pee since waking up. She had been on the way to the bathroom when her mom had stopped her and after everything she hadn’t gotten a chance. The most embarrassing reason for her wiggling, though it was a close call, was the slight squishiness she could feel now cool beneath her, reminding her that she had indeed used the padding. Although it hadn’t been much, she was convinced she could smell the slight ammonia scent and she couldn’t escape the idea that her mom was right and she was going to get a rash. No chance in hell was she going to be telling her mom that she needed another pull-up. Maybe she could ditch this one in the rest area when they inevitably stopped. Showing up commando would be significantly better than in a pull-up, even if it were completely dry. Despite the rough start, she was eventually able to tune out her parents’ conversation in the front and settle into a comfortable enough position to doze off. She had had a long morning after all. Waking up, head pressed against the window, drool sticking her hair to her face, Cara felt disoriented. Wiping her face and blinking, she looked around and remembered where she was… and all that had transpired this morning. The first reminder was the slight soreness still in her rear, and the strange sensation of the slightly damp pull-up. “Morning, sleepyhead”, came the jovial voice of her dad, smiling at her in the rear view mirror. Cara was too preoccupied to smile back, she was too preoccupied to even blush. All she could think about was how much she had to pee. Her bladder was aching for release and she knew that she would need a bathroom sooner rather than later. Glancing at the clock, she realized she had slept through over half the trip. Good, this would be a totally reasonable time to ask for a bathroom break, she thought. “Hey dad?”, Cara asked, “can we stop at the next rest area?”. A look was exchanged in the front seat between her parents. Beside her, Ryan was mercifully dozing. Cara, meanwhile, was squeezing her thighs together and bouncing a leg. “Honey, do you have to go really badly or can you hold it a bit longer? We were kind of hoping to make it without stopping. If we do that we might just catch the family at the house. We only have an hour and a bit to go…”, was her mom’s response. Ugh, stupid big family and their equally Amazonian bladders! Cara knew which answer they were hoping for, but there was no chance she was going to make it that long. She was starting to worry that she wouldn’t even make it to the next rest area! “It’s an emergency!”, Cara said, now pressing a hand to her crotch to physically hold her urine inside of her. She didn’t have the bandwidth to even worry about how childish she must look and sound. She couldn’t even find the focus to blush, she was instead clenching her teeth and trying to prevent a disaster. Sighing, her dad answered this time in a calm yet disappointed voice. “Okay sweetie, we will stop at the next rest area”. Cara felt badly but she was so grateful to hear that. Every second ticked by like an hour and every bump caused her to press her fingers more deeply into the padding beneath her. Cara didn’t want to be seen as a little kid who couldn’t hold it, but… she couldn’t hold it. “Dad, I can’t hold it! Is the rest stop coming up soon?”, she asked in a panic. “Oh, honey this is what we were talking about this morning”, came her mom’s response. “This is why we wanted you to wear your pull-ups. Try to hold on and if you have an accident before we get there you can just let me know and we can get you cleaned up and changed into a fresh pullup”. Cara felt a small spurt of pee sneak out past her digging fingers even as she whined back, “mooooooooom! Stop talking about them! They’re not mine and I don’t need them and I’m not gonna use them and I don’t need a change and stop talking about it!!!!!”. The volume and force with which she expressed this only served to wake Ryan and open the conversation to one more. Ugh, stupid mom!, Cara thought, even as she could feel another spurt of pee sneaking past her defenses. The agonizing wait for the rest area felt like the longest of Cara’s life, though it was only about twelve minutes according to the passive aggressive digital numbers set into the dash, switching as slowly as possible. Clearly there was something wrong with the clock. When they finally pulled off the main highway and into the service area, Cara nearly cried with relief. She only needed to hold on til she was inside and she would be able to not only relieve this pain but even ditch the stupid garment altogether.

The baby powder smell that will bring back all those memories. And you can have it all you want -- Anywhere you want!. This has been around for almost 7 years

Emily is playing in the living room when a quite unexpected guest arrives... Though maybe "guest" is the wrong term. --- 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 --- Emily sat in her playpen. She was surrounded by her toys whilst the television played a cartoon of some inoffensive cartoon people talking about morals. “Playing” was something Emily had become much better at in recent times. When you aren’t given an option to do anything else it becomes increasingly easy to lose yourself in childish games. That was the case for Emily who had created her own little soap opera with the various dolls scattered around her. She was just using a small finger-sized doll and a Barbie to enact a scene where one accused the other of cheating when the front door opened. This wasn’t unusual, Amelia had left the house somewhat excitedly a couple of hours previously. Emily was glad she was home though, the diaper between her legs was saturated and surely not far from leaking. “Mommy, I…” Emily started as she turned towards the living room doorway. It wasn’t Amelia looking back at her. It was Catherine. And Catherine was pulling a large suitcase behind her. Emily dropped the dolls and shifted on her knees to the bars of her clearly marked play area. “What’s going on?” Emily asked with a frown. “You didn’t tell her?” Catherine turned to the side and spoke to someone out of view with clear surprise. “Relax.” Amelia’s voice replied. A second later she appeared in the doorway weighed down by a couple of bags herself. She put down the bags and walked into the room, Emily could see Catherine looking apologetic behind her. “Are we going somewhere?” Emily asked in confusion. “No, baby, quite the opposite.” Amelia replied. She unhooked the latch on the playpen’s gate and let it swing open, “Come over here.” Emily, by that point, was used to following commands without question. Her purpose had been to be a good girl no matter what that entailed. She stood up on shaky legs, her wet diaper hanging underneath her very short yellow dress. She waddled around and when Amelia patted the couch next to her, she sat down. Emily looked from her wife to Catherine, who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway, and back again. Amelia pulled Emily close and put her arm around her shoulders. “You know that me and Catherine have been…” Amelia seemed to be weighing her words carefully, “Very good friends?” Emily nodded. It seemed liked an understatement. She had been aware that the two had been having sex for a while now. There was a time when that would have severely bothered her, now it just made her excited and caused her caged up princess parts pain. “Well, Catherine lives on the other side of town and it’s a pain for us to travel back and forth.” Amelia said, “So we thought “why not cut out all the travel?” Do you understand?” Emily did understand. The bags contained Catherine’s things. They weren’t going anywhere, in fact, the therapist was coming to live with them! “I’m… I’m sorry…” Catherine shook her head, “Amelia should’ve asked you first. I thought she had!” “It’s OK.” Emily said quietly. “I’ll go back home.” Catherine said as she started to pick up her suitcase, “This was a mistake. I’ll leave and we can all discuss this…” “It’s OK.” Emily said a little louder. Emily saw Catherine double-take before putting her bags back down. She was frowning. Emily couldn’t help but laugh, it seemed that even though Catherine clearly wanted this she was finding it hard to believe what Emily was saying. “What?” Catherine asked, “Emily, are you… are you sure?” Emily nodded. To be honest this was something that seemed inevitable sooner or later. Catherine was already coming over every other day, this step only made sense logistically. Emily bowed her head, she still felt embarrassed. She’d already given her tacit acceptance for her wife to essentially “cheat” on her and now she was inviting person who had replaced her to live under the same roof. Catherine glanced over at Amelia. She seemed more surprised than anything. She walked into the room slowly and after a few seconds sat down on the other side of Emily. The diapered woman could feel her wife hugging her closer to her side. “I want you to be absolutely sure.” Catherine said, “I’m not trying to replace you or anything.” “I understand.” Emily said. She was looking down to her bare feet, “I know Amelia loves me still, just in a different way. I see how happy you two make each other and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” Far from making Catherine happy, when Emily looked up at the therapist, she only saw a face of concern. Did Catherine not believe her? She would have to continue. She blushed a little, it now felt like she was trying to set the two of them up! “I know now that as an adult… I kind of sucked.” Emily continued, “I was selfish, angry, self-centred, and just plain unpleasant to be around. I couldn’t give Amelia what she needed so maybe it’s better this way. I’m just lucky you both want to keep me around.” Catherine looked more shocked than ever. Rather than having her fears assuaged it seemed she was more anxious than ever. Emily wasn’t sure what the therapist wanted of her. She just wanted to be a good girl no matter what that meant! “You see?” Amelia said as she leaned forwards to talk to Catherine, “She wants this just as much as we do. She’s a good girl.” Emily beamed as the magic words sent tingles down her spine. She saw Amelia wave for Catherine to slide closer until Emily was squeezed between the two other women. They turned sideways and leaned forwards against each other in a deep embrace that left Emily trapped between their breasts. The fatty orbs swung and moulded around her head and, as turned on as it made her, more than anything she felt thirsty. --- “Aw, you’ve become such a dribblepuss.” Amelia said as a tissue was wiped against the sides of Emily’s mouth, “Good girl.” In a strangely Pavlonian response the magic words made Emily drool just a little more. She wasn’t even really aware of it. There was a bib almost permanently tied around her neck and it was frequently streaked with her saliva. Emily was sat in her playpen. She didn’t have a great idea of how much time had passed but it felt like it had to be at least a couple of weeks. Everything was sort of blurring together for her. Every day was feeling mostly the same, it was a comfortable routine to be in. All her needs were taken care of and she didn’t really have to worry about anything. Emily’s days consisted of diaper changes, breast feedings, playing and nap times. There were very few moments where she was given the time or space to think about what she wanted to do so she just went with the flow. This was what she had always wanted, wasn’t it? To live with no responsibilities? Sure, this hadn’t been exactly what Emily had in mind at the start but she couldn’t deny that Amelia was giving her what she asked for. It wasn’t like Emily’s days were completely routine either. Sometimes something happened to break the comfortable monotony. For instance, it had only been a few days ago when Emily’s cage was unlocked for the first time in a long time. To start with she assumed it was just a cleaning as per usual. Amelia had started teasing her, rubbing her neglected princess parts, and calling her “good girl” among other affirmations. It wasn’t long until Emily was rolling around the changing mat and jerking her hips. She couldn’t even remember if she had got hard, but she did remember the sticky mess that dribbled out of her before the cage was locked back on. Emily absent-mindedly pawed at her diaper as she remembered that experience. There had been others and although they may not have happened as often as she would’ve wanted, she looked forward to them greatly. The anticipation seemed to make it feel even better. Catherine had seemingly settled in but often seemed to act a little weird. Emily could see the therapist watching her and even taking notes sometimes. Otherwise, she seemed to take a hands-off approach to Emily. After the incident in the office, she hadn’t changed any of Emily’s diapers, fed her or done anything else. It was all left for Amelia. Emily wiped her mouth with the long sleeve of her onesie. The cloth came away soaking wet from the fresh drool leaking from Emily’s mouth. The diapered woman ignored it and went back to playing with the dolls. Her video games may have been off-limits for quite a while now, which had provided quite a tantrum, but Emily was using the little dolls to try and recreate her games as much as possible. It wasn’t the same but at least this way she never lost. “Emily?” Catherine’s voice came from the doorway as she slowly walked in, “How are you doing?” “I’m OK.” Emily replied with a smile. “Are you sure?” Catherine asked. “Uh huh.” Emily really didn’t know why Catherine had been acting so strangely recently. Catherine looked like there was more on her mind but she didn’t say anything. A second later Amelia walked in and went straight up Catherine, they kissed passionately, though it seemed Amelia was the one much more in control. Emily watched from the playpen, the drool dripping down her front only partially due to the hot scene in front of her. “You should go and get dressed up.” Amelia said to Catherine as she pulled away. “Huh? Why?” Catherine asked. “We’ve got a date!” Amelia smiled. “We have?” Catherine frowned, “I don’t remember anything…” “Consider it a spur of the moment thing.” Amelia said, “I know you like to plan everything but sometimes a little spontaneity can be good.” “But… What about Emily?” Catherine asked. For one reason or another, in the last few weeks, Amelia and Catherine were very hesitant to leave Emily on her own. She knew how she looked and acted but they surely knew he was still an adult… didn’t they? “It’s OK, I’ve got a babysitter booked.” Amelia said. “A babysitter!?” Catherine and Emily repeated in astonishment. “Yes, so go upstairs and get ready, babe.” Amelia said as she rubbed Catherine’s arm. “But I…” Catherine started. “I’ll tell you more later.” Amelia conceded, “But the babysitter is coming in about fifteen minutes so you need to get ready.” “You haven’t given me much time!” Catherine shook her head and then after a protracted sigh and a look around the room she finally turned and left to go upstairs. For Emily, there were some feelings that she didn’t think she felt anymore coming to the surface. She had long grown to accept the way things were but this was the first time someone outside the little “family” unit was going to see her like this. It felt impossible that the way she lived would be exposed to someone else. She could just imagine the babysitter arriving expecting a small child and instead finding a fully grown adult. “Mommy… I don’t want a babysitter…” Emily said slowly. She didn’t like not being compliant, it risked being called a bad girl, something she was desperate to avoid, “I can just stay here by myself until you come back.” “It’s already sorted. The babysitter will be here in no time.” Amelia replied. When Emily was still clearly looking unsure, she continued, “She already knows about your situation.” She? For some reason that made Emily feel even more embarrassed about what was to come. She’d already pushed her luck in talking back and questioning her Mommy though. There was a small silence as Emily was lost in thought. What on earth would this stranger think of her? “C-Could you change me before she gets here?” Emily asked quietly. “I think we’ve got time for that.” Amelia said as she quickly checked her phone, “We’ll have to hurry though.” Emily stood up but although she could physically get out of the playpen herself, she still waited for Amelia to open the gate for her. Emily followed her Mommy up the stairs and through to her bedroom. She climbed up on to the changing table and laid down for the latest in a never-ending number of diaper changes. Through the thin wall she could hear Catherine getting ready. “Where are you going?” Emily asked conversationally. The diaper between her legs was opened and the cleaning started. “Just out for a meal.” Amelia replied with a smile, “I’ll see if I can bring something home for you. You’ll have to have it for lunch tomorrow, I imagine you’ll be in your crib before we get back.” Emily lifted her butt and allowed the saturated diaper to be pulled out from underneath her. When she lowered back down it was on to a clean and dry disposable. Just as Amelia was about to pull the front of the padding up between Emily’s legs the doorbell downstairs went off. Amelia froze for a moment holding the diaper over Emily’s princess parts. Emily was glad this was the case as the shock of the doorbell had caused her to squirt out some urine. --- 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/mchfqd7xe6106437 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1933043

Part 4: Rubbing her stinging butt through her shorts and the dumb pullup, Cara winced at the soft crinkle. Not wanting to disobey her mom, Cara wasn’t planning to stop on the way down to the car, but when she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror at the top of the stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks. The first thing she noticed was her tear-streaked face and red eyes. She was usually the kind of girl who spent lots of time on her makeup, not to make it look gaudy, but to enhance her lacking visible maturity. The mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks and her red-rimmed eyes, paired with what she saw below was not doing her any favors in that arena. Her mom had made no effort to hide the pull-up and the outfit Cara was wearing was not up to the task at all. The tank left about an inch and a half of trim abdomen showing above her skimpy shorts… or at least that’s what usually happened. Right now, the waistband of her pullup was filling the gap, ruffled plastic designed to feel and look like fabric… it wasn’t fooling the mirror. And the slight bulge beneath seemed so obvious to Cara as well. Glancing quickly behind her, she could hear the toilet flushing from her mom’s room and the water running. She knew she didn’t have time to deal with everything, but she could at least handle something. There was no way she was going out to her sister and father looking like this. So quickly slipping back down the hall and into the bathroom there, Cara grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water before attacking her face with it. Setting her backpack down on the closed toilet, she rummaged inside finding her makeup bag. Thankfully she had put most of her important stuff where she could get to it quickly instead of stowing it in the trunk with the rest of their stuff. Because she was a grownup! Sure, her dad had asked that they keep stuff inside the car to a minimum, and he was always so ridiculous about planning where every last thing would fit, but she couldn’t share a suitcase with her little sister and not be expected to bring a bag of her own! Her parents could figure out how to fit it in. They always did, after all. It served them right for being so annoying. Finding her makeup remover, she quickly set to work undoing the damage the span-the uh conversation… with her mom had done. Had… had that really happened?! Cara pouted a little as she removed the last of the eye makeup and moved on to where her lipstick had been decimated. She knew she wouldn’t have time to redo everything but maybe she could quickly do a bit of foundation and coverup to take away a bit of the youthful freckle-look, the ruddy pinkness her crying and everything else had caused before she faced the car of family. She could always redo the rest of her makeup in the car and- The rest of that thought was cut off when her mom’s voice boomed from behind her, shouting, “Cara?! Where are you?! We’re waiting!”. Not wanting a repeat “conversation”, Cara knew she was out of time. Thankfully she had closed the door to the bathroom behind her. She could pee and wash her hands and just play it off and deal with looking like a scolded kid in front of her family until she got the makeup going. Less thankfully, she had failed to lock the door. Cara realized that mistake with a very mature “eeep” and a spurt of pee into the pull-up that she was momentarily grateful to be wearing, as the door swung open and her mom entered. Her bag clattered to the ground, makeup bag tumbling loose inside. And yet Cara made no move to grab it. Somehow the spanking from earlier had seemed to give her mom’s demeanor a bit more authority. At least that’s what it seemed like to Cara. “Cara, what are you doing? We’re going to be so late and it isn’t fair to your dad”, Patrice scolded, frown deepening as she saw Cara standing there seemingly wasting time. “N-nothing! I-I was just… uh… just going to the bathroom”, she ad-libbed, rushing to tuck the pull-up’s waistband into her shorts and blushing as she realized that it been true in a way. It was only a small wet spot, but somehow her stupid pull-up, which she had been adamant she wouldn’t need, had been the only thing between her and needing new panties. “Well it looks like your hands are all clean, did you really need to get the whole towel wet though?”, her mom asked, moving to hang the facecloth Cara had washed her face with. “Okay, well let’s get a move on then, it’s past time to be in the car”, Patrice said, taking Cara’s hand and pulling her from the room. In the doorway, Cara pulled up short, dragging her feet and saying, “wait!” She needed to pee still, and ideally change into a dry pull-up. Or maybe she could even sneak some panties on, she thought, realizing she didn’t know where the grey pair she had been wearing had ended up. “Cara, come on, we need to go. This is getting ridiculous”, came her mom’s scolding tone. There was a sense of finality and a hint of demand in it. Cara had better figure out a really good reason for wasting more time if she wanted time to pee and change. “Ummm…I… I n-need…”, Cara started, but trailed off as her mom shook her head and started pulling her again through the bathroom door. They were already in the hallway before Cara dragged her feet again, pulling the pair of women up short. “M-mom! Wait!” Cara squeaked. She still didn’t know what to say, so she just went with the truth. Or a partial truth. She wasn’t going to admit she was planning on changing out of a slightly damp pullup. But if all of this was about her accident last year and making sure this wasn’t like last year, then surely her mom wouldn’t deny her a final trip to the bathroom. “I-I just n-need umm I mean I just wanna go to the… the bathroom again real quick. To be safe”, Cara stumbled over her own words. Her mom’s look of frustration turned to one of loving pity. She stopped trying to pull them forward and put her hands on Cara’s shoulders, bending down to look her in the face. “Baby, but you just went potty”, she started, and Cara nearly collapsed. H-how could she know that!? The revelation that her mom was aware of her slight accident was enough to produce another quick spurt into her pull-up before she regained conscious control of any of the muscles in her body. But Patrice wasn’t finished. “I’m so sorry if I made you stressed about it, I didn’t do this to make you so worried about having an accident again, it’s the opposite”. She patted Cara’s padded behind and the small girl jumped a bit. Could she feel the accident like that?! “I know it’s hard for you to hold in your pee pee sometimes, and that’s okay. That’s why your pull-ups are there though, so it doesn’t lead to a whole scene and a big mess like last year”, Patrice said kindly. The whole thing couldn’t have been worse, from the sincere words to the tone, to the final nail in Cara’s maturity coffin that came next.

Thanks Sorry this part took so long to finish. One part of it, I ended up writing four different versions of until I was satisfied. 48. Redemption The sky was overcast this evening, with dark clouds threatening a possible storm. With a backdrop like that, it was all too easy to see the historic frontage of the Arrencani house like the lair of some B-movie villain. A mad scientist, perhaps. Isadora found herself stopping to look at the looming façade for a long second, before she abandoned such fanciful notions and came to the front door. She rang the bell and then adjusted her grip on her purse; wondering again whether she should have brought her home-made radiation meter. She told herself that there would have been no point; if there was anything here that would make it tick, surely Brock would have already found it. If he was willing to tell her. “Good evening, Mrs Klein,” Geoffrey answered the door with his usual impeccable courtesy. For a moment she wondered if she had detected a flicker of curiosity, as the butler saw her without her husband for the first time since they had moved in. But there was no clue she could pick out to suggest surprise or acceptance. Maybe the man really was indifferent to anything and everything going on around you. “Can I take your coat?” he asked, as Isadora followed him inside; and then he directed her along the usual hallway to the meeting room. It was a familiar routine, made different because Brock was normally the one doing the talking; at least for the early part of the evening. The meeting room was already half full, with several of the men sitting in neat lines as they waited for Lorenzo to appear before them. Many of them had wives or heirs with them, sitting attentively with varying degrees of approval. Even Nina was there, focusing her gaze on Victor like nothing in the world mattered more than his approval. She didn’t even turn to acknowledge Isadora’s entrance. But there were also people milling around, the ones for whom the meeting was more of a social event than a formal proceeding. And Isadora knew that the easiest way to catch up on any news she had missed around the neighbourhood was to join the small group of women in the corner. Martha Donovan’s hands danced through the air around her as she related some story, every word accompanied by its own gesture. Kaylee was listening, but her eyes were on the faint glow in the fireplace, where Geoffrey had carefully stacked wood and coals ready to heat the draughty room. Zannah was there too, and had clearly been catching up on the gossip until she saw her parents on the other side of the room and felt obligated to leave before they saw her. “Oh, Estelle, hi!” Martha greeted her as soon as she came close. “Wasn’t sure you were coming tonight. Bernard not with you?” “He’s…” Isadora hesitated for a second. She couldn’t tell anyone about what was happening between her and Brock, while her problems all came from his unwillingness to share information about the case they were supposed to be investigating together. She wished so badly that there was someone she could talk to, but there was no way anyone would even understand her anxiety without knowing the truth about their mission. “He rushed out this morning, didn’t say if he’d be here. I thought I’d best come so we’re not out of the loop if he’s otherwise engaged.” The words sounded reasonable. But to Isadora, the way she delivered them was obviously an act. She didn’t think anybody could believe her now, so she just had to hope that they weren’t paying that much attention. “Oh, honey,” Martha answered quickly, and took a half step closer. “You can talk to us, you know? Whatever it is, it’s better not to bottle up those feelings. Trust me, we’ve all been there at one time or another.” Isadora looked around at the handful of concerned faces, and she knew that these were the people most likely to give her some sympathy. Even if they weren’t in the spying business, and she couldn’t tell them why she was so frustrating, they could read her emotions well enough. And she suspected that their husbands all had different things they were keeping secret; even if it was nothing so mission-critical. The feelings were the same. Isadora thought that maybe she could benefit from a little more introspection, and thinking about where she could get help. But if she started talking about Brock’s secret, she didn’t trust herself to keep from spilling something actually related to their mission. Was there a compromise? Some way to vent without saying what the problem actually was, so that the emotional comfort would help her even if any concrete advice was irrelevant? “There was a brandy glass on the counter when I woke up,” she sighed. They already knew Estelle was worried about Bernard’s drinking, so it would make perfect sense to bring up the same issue again. “Half a bottle before daybreak. I don’t know what could have happened at work to push him to that, and if I ask he always says it’s… no big deal. Nothing important.” The venom in those last few words surprised her. Brock had been saying them for a long time; not about some business deal but about the things he was investigating. But here, perhaps, Isadora could let her frustration out and the other distressed wives of Evergreen Estates would understand the parts that mattered. “Would he say he regretted it if you asked?” Miranda Carter joined the conversation, and Isadora quickly nodded. “I think that’s what got me. He could have said the drinking was bad, even if he wouldn’t tell me why. Even if he broke every promise, I could have tried to help him. But he just acted like it never happened.” “He won’t deny it,” Isadora said, finding it all too easy to relate Brock’s recent behaviour to the things her friends had gone through with their own partners. “I mean… if I ask, he’ll just change the subject. That’s all he ever does.” She wasn’t alone. That was the big thing she could take from this conversation. The women she spoke to frequently all had similar experiences, even if they were talking about very different problems, and their sympathy made her feel welcomed. And even those she would speak to occasionally in passing seemed happy to support a woman whose husband wouldn’t talk about his problems, only needing a word or two to understand her emotions, if not the circumstances which had caused them. Their conversation could have gone on all night; the women were happy to ignore Geoffrey when he politely announced to the room in general that everyone should take their seats so the meeting could start. The various men of the Committee, no matter how set in their ways they were, knew better than to interrupt a gathering of their wives in one corner, when a younger woman was clearly in distress. But sooner or later, the meeting would have to start. And Isadora felt her confidence restored, her frustrations vented, as they considered heading to their seats. But before they could get that far, the one thing happened that required an immediate end to their conspiratorial chatter. Bernard Klein had arrived. “You should say something,” Kaylee suggested, whispering to Isadora. “After the meeting,” Martha counselled the opposite. “Nobody wants to air dirty laundry in public.” “Sorry I’m late, everyone,” Brock announced, looking as cool as ever as he walked in. “I do hope I’ve not missed the start of the meeting. But if it’s okay with you all, I think there’s something I need to say to my wife. It’s not Committee business, but still important, and I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to.” He turned his head, slowly surveying the room. He caught a barely perceptible nod from Lorenzo, and then took a step towards Isadora. “If it’s important, you should say it when you’re sober.” Heads turned, as a shout came from the corner of the room. Alison was there; and she’d clearly heard enough to know how Estelle was supposed to be feeling. Then everyone’s eyes were back on Brock as he considered his response. His eyes met Isadora’s for the tiniest fraction of a second, and she was sure he knew exactly what she’d been saying; and what it was a metaphor for. Lorenzo extracted himself from his current conversation and sat down at the head of the table, ready to preside over the meeting. He didn’t bring the room to order, though, or call for silence. It would have been redundant, while everyone seemed to be holding their breath in any case. But he looked over at Isadora, perhaps looking to see how she felt before responding. Isadora felt like the whole world was staring, a marked contrast to the life in the shadows she had expected from an undercover operation, and in that moment it was hard to find the words. This was exactly the kind of apology that could only be given in private; for all the times he had violated her trust in ways that they couldn’t let anyone else know about. Then again, it was entirely in-character for a successful man like Bernard to do something like this in front of all their neighbours, so that she would look rude or foolish if she didn’t accept whatever feelings he wanted to convey. But she knew there was something else going on with Brock; something more than met the eye. He never seemed to do anything for one single reason, like he was spinning a dozen plates faster than anyone else could keep track of. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d started planning some kind of big public scene as soon as he realised that she wasn’t going to just let him skate by without talking to her any longer. But maybe letting him talk was the best way to find out what he was actually thinking. “You look almost sober,” she said sharply. “Does that mean you’re going to keep your rpomises this time?” “I am,” Brock said, head bowed slightly. “I haven’t had a drink since I got home last night, you know? And I’ve got something for you. Something to let you know that… you’ve always been on my mind, even if I wasn’t the best at showing it.” The pause after that might have evolved into an uncomfortable silence, with Isadora not quite knowing what to say. It was hard enough to sort through her own feelings, without having to filter them through words that would make sense for Estelle as well. But this time, it was Lorenzo who broke the silence. “We didn’t start without you, Mr Klein,” he said. “But if you’re making a promise here and now, I hope you know that the whole community will hold you to it.” It seemed like they had his permission to interrupt the meeting now, but Isadora was sure that the crime boss was paying a lot of attention to their words, not just the surface meanings. “I know,” Brock nodded, and then made a big show of thinking about his next words. “I want everyone to know. Like a public proposal, I guess, so that my friends will all know that I’m trying to do better. To be better. I promise, Estelle, I’m going to be a better man than I have been. I love you, and I want the whole world to know that. Maybe I lost my way a little, trying to fit in with a new community and a new dynamic. But from now on even if I’m spending time with friends, golfing, gambling, or… or drinking. I promise that I will come home sober enough to give you my full attention. I will be present, and I will be ready to do whatever you need me to do.” “You’ve said that before,” Isadora answered, not sure how much of the feeling in those words was real and how much was for the sake of all the friends she had been talking to. “Yes, I’ve said it before. But this time, I think… I saw this and thought of you. And it made me realise I’ve been taking you for granted.” Brock pulled a small package out from under his jacket. It looked like the packaging from some company that didn’t see the economy in standard size boxes; an irregular padded shape gleamed like plastic wrap or tape under the subtle lighting. But this bundle was already open, and Brock reached inside to pull out what looked for all the world like a fancy jeweler’s box, the kind that had the texture of gleaming leather. For a moment, Isadora imagined that he might drop to one knee to offer her a ring. The box was clearly too large to contain only a ring, no matter how pretentiously displayed; but at that moment no other options seemed plausible. “I uhh…” she mumbled, as Brock covered the last step between them. He didn’t simply hand her the box, but held it out towards her so that she could easily open it. Her hands were almost trembling as she reached for the delicate clasp at the front, not sure what she should expect. All around them, she could see the people trying not to look like they were peering over her shoulder as everyone tried to get a glimpse of what Brock had bought her. “I’m afraid it’s no diamond,” he said with a smile; and at least one faint sigh from their audience suggested a hint of disappointment in the momentary pause before he continued: “But I thought this would suit you better. I saw it and thought of you right away. Perhaps gold and jewels would allow me to show off my wealth, but what I need to show now is that you can rely on me. That I know you, and that I care about what would make you happy.” Isadora looked inside the box. There was a necklace there; or a choker that would go right around her throat, not depending on the simplicity of a chain to complete the circle. But the individual pieces were blocks of what looked like coloured plastic; pastel primary colours, like the first jewellery you might get for a young child, when it needed to be bold and visible. There was a matching bracelet, as well. Nobody could look at this and think that it was designed for a grown woman, but perhaps that was the point. It was to convey a sentimental message, while still being intricate and expensive enough that nobody would question her wearing it. And, Isadora added her analysis on top of Estelle’s natural reaction, it would be a subtle way to show Lorenzo that they had something in common, perhaps making it easier for him to believe that they were Brock’s eventual approach. More than anything, when she looked at this gift, Isadora knew that it was a show of trust. Brock was signalling to her that he wanted ger to go undercover at some point, despite his earlier objections. He wanted to show that he really trusted her, and that they were actually going ahead with the infiltration plan, rather than just discussing it as a possibility for some day in the future and treating it as a way to palm her off. “Thank you,” she stammered. “You should always wear it,” Brock said, walking around behind her and lifting the necklace before fastening it around her throat. It fitted perfectly; she wouldn’t have expected anything less. “As a reminder. So you will always know that you are on my mind, no matter where I might be, or who I am with. And perhaps now, you will be thinking about where I am as well.” “Thank you,” Isadora mumbled, too emotional to properly think about how she was feeling right now. She knew that this was a silly romantic gesture, and that Brock had carefully calculated what everyone would think before he went ahead with it. But she also knew that it was what she wanted more than anything else, in some way she didn’t quite understand. This was a good sign, and they could talk properly about it later. “I won’t… I mean… Thank you, Bernard. I know you mean it.” She didn’t say the words “I love you”. And she could feel the few members of the crowd who held their breath over that. But it was enough for her to feel satisfied, and apparently enough for Brock as well. He took a seat and she sat down beside him, heart racing more than she had ever expected. As Lorenzo called the meeting to order and began a discussion of the licensing necessary to change the company responsible for mowing the grass in one of the parks, she could easily slip into her regular routine of watching who was engaged and who was simply waiting for a later item on the agenda. Brock would be paying more attention to who trusted whom, she thought, but maybe now she could trust him to tell her if it was likely to become relevant. Maybe. The meeting seemed to last forever. The discussions were pretty much the same as always; and seemed anticlimactic after Brock’s big reveal. Some neighbours were being petty, some wanted to control everything in the neighbourhood, and some seemed to be arguing at cross purposes; and Isadora just wanted to go home so that she could test Brock’s commitment to actually telling her the truth. Despite his reassuring words, she knew that she couldn’t rely on anyone else in the community to ensure he kept his promises. That was the downside of letting everyone else think that her problem was only with the drinking. She fidgeted through the meeting, running her fingers over the oddly-comforting plastic of the necklace. That, at least, was tangible proof that he intended to let her take part in the investigation in some way. But she found herself wondering how many of her friends would have odd questions about the styling. Eventually, the meeting started to break up. And Isadora had no problem at all when she saw Brock rising to leave with only the quickest nod and handshake for his golf buddies. “There’s nothing like a grand gesture to clear the air,” Martha said quietly, and gently patted Isadora’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll sleep better tonight, dear.” “Don’t forget to actually talk things through, as well,” Kaylee added. “And remember, your friends will always be here when you need us.” “Thanks,” Isadora said. “We’d better get home. But I feel a lot better now.” “It’s a nice night,” Brock said as soon as they left the building. “Let’s walk.” Isadora didn’t reply, but gave a shrug and followed him. Arrencani’s garden had a wooden gate leading to a footpath through the woods, meaning that although the distance home would be twice as far, only the last five minutes of the walk would be along suburban roads. The dusk light and the glow of the full moon filtered through the branches overhead, bright enough to ensure they wouldn’t stumble over any unexpected tree roots. Isadora thought about her gift again. A sign of trust which nobody else would really understand. She started to whisper thanks, but was interrupted by Brock waving a wand around her body, checking for radio transmissions. “The car’s tagged,” he said. “But we’re clean here. If there’s anyone close to the path I’d hear them before we got close, and the Arrencani family seems to use old school laser mics for surveillance. You know, the ones that naval intelligence was so enthusiastic about four or five years ago.” “You…” Isadora started. “Wait, what changed? You’re willing to talk to me now?” She didn’t say anything about tracking his car yet. Could Brock have detected her own efforts to monitor him, and not been sure if it was the action of an ally or enemy? But that wasn’t something to confess right now, when he was suddenly trying to rebuild the trust between them. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, which wasn’t much of a response, but was better than nothing. And then as Isadora was expecting him to build on that, he asked: “Did you notice they trimmed some of the trees at the corner of Dickinson Drive? I could see the change in the skyline from the kitchen window last night. Went around this morning to check. With those trees cut back, they had a line of sight into our kitchen. No mirror in there, but the chrome handles on the cupboards could be good enough to point a laser at.” “You think they’re onto us?” Isadora asked with a hushed gasp. She thought back to her monitor training, so long ago. She knew the kind of remote microphones Brock had just been talking about; they could pick up a conversation from half a mile away, just so long as you could see a mirrored surface in the room with your target. “But they never showed any signs of suspicion. What’s changed?” “There’s a lot of things I haven’t mentioned yet,” Brock said with a sigh. “Where do I start?” “Foundation knowledge,” Isadora answered quickly, quoting her basic field training. Any debrief should start with any information necessary to understand the rest, even if it wasn’t really the logical place to begin. Maybe Brock had been thinking about the best way to approach the conversation so that she wouldn’t get upset again, trying to choose a starting point in order to avoid her getting too emotional. But if they treated it like a routine debrief, she thought, she could learn everything before she had to think about how it made her feel. “Like… why you need to check ionising radiation levels to investigate a trafficking operation.” “You checked your room, then?” Brock seemed slightly amused, but Isadora wasn’t really sure why. “Yeah, I ordered a batch of dosimeters. You’d be surprised what you can buy online now. It turned out to be nothing. But I’m impressed that you thought to look there. You’ve got good instincts.” “What was it about?” Isadora asked. She wasn’t going to be brushed off so easily this time. “Don’t just say it’s nothing. Let me know.” “Okay,” Brock said, and nodded slowly. And just when Isadora was about to ask again, he started to speak. “You know Allensford? Not the nearest city, but close enough that Arrencani could possibly have territory disputes with whoever runs the drug trade there. Among the batch of miscellaneous reports they sent us was a young man, a possible gang member, admitted to the hospital with burns. Disappeared before they could ask more questions.” “Possible radiation burns?” Isadora guessed, hoping that she could get even a small step ahead of this narrative. “The triage nurse didn’t know about that. But a couple of times I heard the Arrencanis talking about things. Most often Enzo and Roman, they’re not as tight-lipped as the head. Using words like ‘too hot’. Maybe they’re talking about stolen goods, but that term can also mean something radioactive enough that it’s dangerous to handle. The word ‘dose’ came up too; and whether Marco needs ‘protection’. That one was quite a common topic of debate, I gather some people in the family would like not to see him as Lorenzo’s successor.” “So you think they got their hands on an orphan source?” “Yes,” Brock answered quickly, and then looked uneasy for a fraction of a second. “Well, I did. The final piece of the puzzle to send my thoughts down that path was a notification on the records I requested. We looked into Roman’s navy contacts, remember? And one of them was a guy who’s currently facing court martial for mishandling some material. He’d worked at a military hospital, as well as on a submarine, and had done the training for nuclear safety. It’s possible he could have gotten his hands on something dangerous for the right price, like a radiotherapy source. That could become a heck of a punishment for anyone who crosses the family.” “That would have gotten me worrying about something else entirely,” Isadora mumbled. And then she sensed Brock’s gaze on her, as if he was trying to read her thoughts on the side of her face. “I thought… We know Mrs Arrencani was sick for a long time, but we really don’t know what her problem was. And I kind of thought for a moment… is she still alive in the basement? Like if she seriously wanted to retire from the public eye and not go out anymore. But whatever treatment she needs, they’d have to find a way to do it at home. And when you say ‘radiotherapy’, that stuff’s got to be highly regulated… I guess it sounds like a dumb thought now. Did you find the source?” “There wasn’t one,” Brock answered, and shook his head. “But… I never thought of that. Maybe you could have suggested it sooner. And, I guess, there’s a possibility he could have gotten one through some other channel. I doubt it, though. It doesn’t feel right for the way he talks about her, the grief is practically overwhelming.” “Okay, so if it wasn’t a source…” “Kendrick called Roman. I was able to listen in on the call, though I think I might have raised their suspicion in the process. Hence them snooping on us in the kitchen last night. Lorenzo didn’t say anything about it, so I hope he’s… bought the narrative we’re trying to sell.” “You let him think that our secrecy is all about Estelle’s little side,” Isadora guessed, while her mind raced trying to play back the previous night’s argument with that in mind. “You primed me, before we came out of the nursery. You got me mad because you knew I wouldn’t be able to play the role unless I was really angry with you. Was that it?” “Yeah. I’m sorry. But now Lorenzo has some clues that you’re a little. But we have to be prepared for an ambush at any time, just in case he picked up more than I thought. I might have broken our cover, just trying to follow a red herring.” “The radioactive source thing? What did this other soldier – Kendrick? – What did he say?” “Sailor,” Brock corrected quickly. “Not a soldier. A lot of guys in the navy will be offended if you call them soldiers. Although in Lieutenant Kendrick’s case, he might prefer that you say ‘officer’ in any case. But… he called Roman begging for help. Turns out the case is a bag of low-level waste. Stuff like the disposable boiler suits they use when handling nuclear material, which could potentially have radioactive contaminants on but probably doesn’t. Regulations require special treatment for all of that stuff, just in case. But Kendrick was apparently drinking on duty, and somehow two bags of low level waste got mixed in with regular trash going to landfill. He’s spent months calling round every person he knows with a shady background, asking for ways to make this all go away. He finally got around to Roman last week, and Roman told him to get bent. So, that means there’s no orphan source, I don’t need to worry about that, and we can focus on the potential trafficking. Or what might potentially be an adult baby retreat, which cops assumed was more serious just because a mafia boss is running it.” “Okay…” Isadora said, and quickly shook her head in the hope it would help to dispel mental images she wasn’t ready to deal with right now. “The Pink Room. We need to investigate. When you gave me this…” – her hand rose to the necklace for a second – “Does that mean we’re going to follow that plan? Find a way to let the Arrencanis know Estelle is a… a ‘little’, so I can infiltrate that room? You said I wasn’t ready, but…” “I think you’re not,” Brock said, and Isadora couldn’t think how to respond. “You’re learning fast, but I still don’t think you could play the role that well. But soon, maybe. We’ve started on that path, anyway. They were listening to us, so Arrencani will have the clues. He’ll probably play it slow. Over the next few weeks, or months, he’ll try to work it into conversation, so he can raise the subject of regression without saying it outright. He’ll try to set up a situation where we have to confess.” “Like we hoped to do?” “Yes. But now he’s taking the lead, it won’t be so suspicious if I eventually give in and tell him. Not right away, and you certainly shouldn’t say anything. Estelle is really embarrassed about this, after all, and doesn’t want anyone except Bernard to know. But sooner or later, he’ll work the secret out of us. We’ll be able to say it without raising suspicion, and then we’ll have our invite. Until then, just keep on keeping it secret. Wait for him to make the first move.” “Okay,” Isadora said. But she couldn’t believe how well this was turning out. She’d been so angry, but it turned out that Brock was doing exactly what they had planned. He’d turned a possible break in their cover into an opportunity, in a way which she would never have anticipated. “So, when do we say something? Do you think this necklace will make him more confident?” “I think he’ll play it slow for a couple of weeks. And we should resist letting him know the secret. It’s human nature to trust information more if you have to fight for it, so we don’t say anything on Tuesday even if he asks. We deny it because we’re embarrassed, for at least the first couple of weeks. But he’ll keep on asking, because he thinks he already knows. Unless he’s picked up more than I thought, and knows something else.” “Think it’s a risk worth taking?” Isadora asked, wondering what would happen if their cover was already blown. But then one word in the last exchange jumped out at her. “Wait, Tuesday?” “Yeah, I didn’t get around to that. And I should thank you again. See, you made me think about Alessia. And it turns out that was a good key to get Lorenzo to open up. He’s invited us to come and watch some of her movies with him, and I think that’s the perfect opportunity to find out more about their relationship. And to get him to trust me more. That’s gold, you know? Thank you, Estelle. You’ve given me something I would never have thought to ask about if I was here alone.” Isadora’s heart raced at the praise; it was rare enough for Brock to even talk about the investigation without pressure, let alone compliment her deductions. But she couldn’t thank him now. They were back on the street by then, almost home, and they no longer had the privacy of the footpath through the woods. But it was easy to let the conversation shift back to Bernard and Estelle discussing an afternoon watching movies starring a friend’s wife. The conversation was perfectly innocent if someone happened to overhear them, and Isadora felt her trust in her partner growing again. He really had thought about everything; even getting her angry enough that she could play the role he wanted. She wished they could have talked about this plan first, but she wasn’t too proud to admit that she would have struggled to make it seem natural. They were doing it. It could take months to get Arrencani to trust them that much, but it was going to happen. Isadora would have a chance to properly prove herself undercover, and as she fiddled with her new bracelet, she couldn’t wait. Now… does this feel like an ending? The next chapter was originally planned as the end of Act II; but I realise it could also work as the opening for Act III. And I'm not sure which act the next chapter should go in. I think the dividing line has to be whether this feels like a big enough finale for Act II on its own. What do you think? And I hope the story won't keep following this trend: Act I - 19 chapters, 45343 words Act II - 29 chapters, 100204 words If it keeps on growing like that, we'd be close to a million words by the end of act V. (Though I'm not 100% sure about whether Act V deserves to be an act in its own right… would this be better as a tetralogy?)

As the monotony of her new life sets in, Sam is suddenly broken out of her slump. She soon wishes to be right back in it again. --- I am only able to devote as much time as I do to writing thanks to my wonderful subscribers. Writing is my only source of income and therefore I appreciate immensely everyone who supports me. For $5 you can see all of my story updates one week before the rest of the world. For $10 you get all the early stories PLUS 35+ EXCLUSIVE STORIES not available anywhere else AND early access "Livy's New Family: The Comic" Please check out the links below for more information, tiers, and rewards. https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- Day after day the monotony continued. To Sam it felt like every passing minute was an hour with the only things to punctuate her time being frequent humiliations. The diaper changes never got easier, neither did the feedings, bathing or any of the other activities Jade had taken control of. Each morning Sam woke up with the hope that Jade would be bored of this extended punishment and would let her be an adult again, she was always disappointed. In fact, far from looking like this enforced babyhood was going to end any time soon Sam noticed more and more baby clothes appearing in her closet and more toys in her playpen. It had now been more than a week since Sam had used the toilet. Whenever she thought about that she felt very strange, it wasn’t something she had ever considered possible. Why would she? Everyone uses it toilets and barely gives it a second thought, for her it felt like a thing of the past. In consequence of not using the toilet Sam had found using her diapers increasingly easy. She didn’t really need to concentrate to wet herself anymore. When she felt the urge her first reaction was to just let it go no matter where she was or what she was doing. Pooping still required some thought and effort on her part but, as humiliating as it was, it no longer felt Earth-shattering. It was something she had to do, so she did it. Sam had been taken to another ballet lesson and there was the promise of more to come in the future. That was as embarrassing as ever. Being the only person there who was diapered was bad enough but now everyone else had witnessed her using the diaper, she saw the their condescending looks. Sam found herself feeling smaller and smaller, she was much older than the kids and yet she felt younger. Sam felt like her brain might be melting. She was zoned out in front of the television as it played repetitive episodes of children’s television. No, not children’s television, these shows were meant exclusively for babies. She was sat in her playpen and drooling slightly around the bulb of the pacifier pressed between her lips. There was a comfort in sucking on the mouth-filling teat, she wasn’t sure why but when she was feeling particularly anxious about the situation she found it helped, at least a little bit. When the door opened Sam looked up from the toys she had been playing with to see Jade dressed in some loose-fitting flowery clothes. She was smiling down at Sam and walked around the playpen to turn off the TV. “I have a special treat planned for you.” Jade said as she walked back round to the gate and unhooked the latch. Since the last “special treat” had been the humiliating ballet lessons Sam wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. She pulled her knees up to her chest and shook her head to indicate she didn’t want to go anywhere. Her diaper was soaked and moving as she had done just reminded her of that fact, she was likely overdue for a change regardless. “You’ve been such a good girl recently.” Jade said, “You don’t want to mess it all up now, do you?” Sam had indeed been a “good girl.” After having to sit in her poopy diaper on the way home from her first ballet lesson she had decided not to test Jade again. A part of her hoped that if she showed that her behaviour had improved she might be released from the hell she had been stuck in. So far there had been no signs of Jade relenting. “What’s going on?” Sam asked timidly as she stood up as slowly as she could get away with. It was a question she asked whenever her schedule deviated from the norm because it usually meant only bad things. “We’re going to have a day out.” Jade said happily. “I don’t want to.” Sam replied immediately. She didn’t stop walking forwards though. What she wanted wasn’t really relevant. When Sam reached the gate she saw Jade reaching down towards her. She automatically separated her legs a little and pushed her crotch out in front of her. It was the default pose for a diaper check and after a week of them it came naturally to her as much as she wish it didn’t. She waited for Jade’s hand to slip under her onesie and find the warm spongy diaper underneath. Jade didn’t say anything as she withdrew her hand. She simply lifted Sam into the air and sat her on her hip. Sam was carried up to the nursery past the various members of staff going about their duties, no one really batted an eye towards her these days, it had become normalised to have a “baby” in the house. “Can’t we just stay here?” Sam asked hopefully as the snaps on her onesie were undone, “Mommy?” “You’ll enjoy it when you get there.” Jade said as she lifted Sam up to the changing table and laid her down, “Just like your dancing.” “I hate the dancing!” Sam exclaimed. “Silly baby.” Jade smiled, “Stop being so fussy.” It was impossible to reason with Jade. Sam was seen as nothing more than a useless baby and there was nothing that would change that. At first it had seemed Jade had still thought of Sam as an adult even as she was treating her like a child, now she acted as if things had always been this way. It was very scary for Sam who was completely powerless. Sam’s wet diaper was lowered and she was wiped clean with little fuss. She hadn’t thought it possible but she was actually getting used to having her diaper changed. It was still embarrassing but it wasn’t the world ending event it felt like beforehand. She wasn’t sure if getting used to this treatment was a good thing, she still harboured hopes that this would end sooner rather than later. Taped into a fresh disposable diaper Sam sat up and immediately noticed something was different. This diaper wasn’t like her usual ones, it seemed somehow thinner. She looked down and saw the pictures on the front were different as well. This one had two mermaids with their hair flowing around them waving with big smiles. Sam watched as Jade retrieved something from her drawers. Rather than going to one of the top drawers where a lot of her casual clothes were kept she went to the bottom drawer, a place that Sam hadn’t seen being opened since she’d had her adulthood taken away. She didn’t have to wait long to find out what Jade was bringing over. At first Sam thought it was another tutu but she soon realised it wasn’t. The skin tight one piece bathing suit was a baby blue with white polka dots and on the front in a particularly large white circle the words “Mummy’s Little Swimmer” was printed and surrounded by things found in the sea, Sam’s eyes were immediately drawn to the starfish below the words. “Alright, point your little toes so we can get you ready.” Jade said cheerfully. Unsure of what was happening Sam did as she was told and her legs were put through the holes at the bottom of the suit. The elastic stretched as it was pulled up over her thighs and finally it expanded to contain the diaper. Sam was disappointed to find that the ruffled leg bands of the padding weren’t covered by the swimming costume. The diaper, despite being thinner than her usual ones, was still thick enough to be obvious to anyone who looked her way. The crotch and rear of the bathing suit bulged out in front and behind her. “Where are we going?” Sam asked fearfully as the straps for her arms were pulled up and over shoulders. She could guess it would involve swimming but beyond that she was still in the dark. It was like wearing a second skin but it fit perfectly. Sam was lifted down from the changing table and as she took a few steps she found that the costume was doing nothing for the crinkles coming from her waist. Her waddle was as pronounced as ever. Jade ignored Sam’s question. Instead she produced a short skirt and a loose shirt that went over the top of Sam’s swimming costume. Now fully dressed Sam was picked up and carried downstairs. The new clothing felt weird, like wearing a particularly tight onesie underneath her clothes. “Anthony, could you come over here and help the baby with her shoes?” Jade called to the nearby room where a young butler emerged. “Of course, Ma’am.” Anthony replied. Jade left Sam at the stairs. Sam always hated when she was passed over to one of the hired help to be looked after. It was a reminder how odd this all was, they never failed to have a look on their face to remind Sam how strange the situation was. Anthony looked smugly condescending but other members of staff went with disgust, confusion and even sadness. None of them helped. Sam felt like she had to say something, she didn’t often get much chance to talk to people outside her cousin’s presence. “H-Hey…” Sam tried with a hesitantly friendly smile. Anthony didn’t reply but he did smile a little more. Sam couldn’t work out whether he might be on her side or not. With a start she noticed that he was young enough to have been in the same class as her, fortunately she didn’t recognise him but the difference in status was extremely pronounced. “I… I was just wondering if Mommy had said anything about things going back to normal…” Sam asked. Anthony snorted in derision. It was only after she had finished talking that Sam realised she had referred to Jade as Mommy. It was a title she had grown used to using for her cousin much to her embarrassment. “No.” Anthony finally said, “Your “Mommy” hasn’t said anything to us.” Sam nodded sadly. She wondered what the staff said when they undoubtedly talked about her outside of her presence. Were they like Jade? Did they just see as nothing more than a useless baby now? Sam’s shoes were slipped on her feet and the Velcro fastened just in time for Jade to return. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, Sam recognised it as her diaper bag. It was packed with supplies for a day out. Whatever was going to happen this wasn’t going to be a short trip out, Sam’s heart sank. “Alright, let’s go.” Jade said as she lifted Sam into the air. Sam was taken out to the car and placed in her booster seat. Whilst still questioning where she was being taken the car started making its way down the driveway and out on the street beyond. Sam played with her fingers nervously as she stretched to look out the window looking for any clues. They weren’t going towards the place Sam danced that was for sure. The car went out of town and on to the highway. Sam was about to try and ask for more information again when she saw a signpost. The car then turned off at the next exit, another sign loomed in front of them. A shiver of fear ran down Sam’s spine. “Big Splash Water Park …” Sam said as she read the sign. She turned to look at Jade, “We’re not going there, right?” Jade said nothing which was as good as a confirmation for Sam. She let out a little whine. There were going to be so many people around and she was so obviously diapered. She was starting to feel embarrassed and they hadn’t even arrived yet. Jade turned the car towards a queue for the parking lot and Sam ducked her head in shame as her “Mommy” bought their tickets. “Not here…” Sam whined as the car pulled into an empty space and Jade got out, “There’s too many people!” Indeed it seemed like a very busy day. The parking lot was huge and mostly full of cars. The door next to Sam opened and she immediately heard the excited chatter of families on their way into the park as well as the splashing of people on the rides inside. The straps on Sam’s seat slackened but she resisted being lifted out. “Do you want a spanking right here?” Jade asked seriously after Sam slapped her hand away. Sam quickly shook her head. There was very little doubt in her mind that Jade would indeed spank her right there and then. Her resistance fell away and she allowed Jade to pick her up. The really crazy thing was that Sam was desperate not to be seen as a baby but when she was around other people she didn’t want anyone to know she was an adult. It would just be too humiliating. “So you’re going to be a good girl for Mommy?” Jade asked as her hand patted Sam’s butt. “Yes…” Sam grudgingly said. She tried to hide her face against Jade’s shoulder. “Yes?” Jade waited. “Yes, Mommy…” Sam muttered with a sigh. “Such a good girl.” Jade chuckled. Sam was carried away from the car and towards the entrance where so many people were heading. She was trembling, whenever she was brave enough to lift her head she saw everyone else excitedly heading in, she wished she could feel the same way. Back before she had been forced to move in with Jade she had enjoyed all sorts of theme parks, she hadn’t visited this particular one but she’d wanted to. She never thought it would be under circumstances like these. --- If you want to find out what happens next RIGHT NOW you can do so at the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/m7x7lotzmt/chapter/mccxem59lrMb15 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1926878

Just the "fact" you're being AB, VLG/B or Little changes the dynamic as the "adult" is in charge just as they were when you were younger with them telling you what you were going to be doing as much as you might think you know what want to be so really that's not of itself a kink thing although it can be played as such where obviously more sexual humilations like sph are (You might not get off on it but those that do enjoy it). Having your underwear spoke off publically can give you real embarassment as play that you might enjoy without going down the other route, indeed as kids sometimes we'd do stuff like that to bring someone down a peg or two.

Part 2: Sighing resignedly, Patrice reached out for the waistband of Cara’s small denim shorts and tugged her closer. Stumbling at the unexpected pull, Cara let out a whining, yet surely dignified, “Moooooom!”, as she batted at her mother’s hands as they worked at the button of her shorts. “Cara, stop it”, came her mother’s firm command as she easily pushed her daughter’s hands away and undid the button then the zipper. “You’re acting like a toddler. I gave you the choice to put your pull-up on like a big girl and you decided to have a bit of a tantrum instead. Now I’m doing it for you”. With that she yanked the shorts down, leaving Cara blushing in her pale grey bikini briefs, denim pooled around her ankles. Remembering the small spurt of urine at her sister’s surprise entrance, Cara tensed. Still reeling at the undignified turn of events, she twisted sideways out of her mom’s reaching hands. “Mom! I’m not wearing it!”, she shouted, privacy forgotten as she bent to retrieve her fallen garment. And that was when her mother had had enough. She knew this, not simply because she said at that moment, in a firm tone, “that’s it, young lady, I’ve had enough”, but because of what she did next. One second Cara was bending over to reach for her shorts and the next she was falling face-first towards the ground. Her body was caught by the firm cushion of her mother’s lap as the larger woman’s hands pulled her onto it. “M-mom!”, Cara screeched, kicking her feet and trying to right herself, but finding nothing but air around her. Damned tall family. She was just turning her head to yell “mom, what the f*ck!?”-which was a reasonable response to being manhandled in the middle of a perfectly respectable and mature conversation- when her mother’s hand came down on her butt. Hard. Stunned, Cara let out a squeal of protest, flailing about only to feel a second spank landing on her rear, then a third as her mother lectured over her, “Cara, you are getting this spanking because your behavior is unacceptable”. On the word unacceptable, Patrice landed a spank for each syllable, earning Cara five more hard and embarsssing swats, three on one cheek, and two on the other. Cara let out a small squeek on the last and hardest spank, but it was honestly more embarsssing than painful. I mean, it’s not like the founding fathers had to deal with this crap when they asserted their independence from the king! Sure, there was the whole Revolutionary War, but at least that had dignity! This was surely outside of bounds of reasonable warfare. Not even letting her up, Patrice spoke then, in a softer tone, yet still carrying the unearned authority of someone with a hand still resting ominously on a warm butt. “Now, if I let you up are you going to put your pull-up on like a big girl?”, she asked. And surely she had to be joking. Cara hadn’t gone through all of this just to end up in those f*cking baby pants. Lest anyone think her above speaking out for what’s just, even before thinking things through, Cara, draped and twisting to see her jailor’s face, rolled her eyes before saying, “you’ve got to be joking! I’m not wearing those f*cking baby pan-ow!” She hadn’t meant to say that last sound, but before she had finished her righteous sentiment, her mom’s hand had raised and landed again. No regard for mature discussion! This was ridiculous! “Mom, I’m too old for a spanking! Stop it!” And her mom must have seen reason at last, because she did stop. Only the hand that had been berrating Cara’s butt was now working her underwear down, down, down towards her thighs, despite Cara’s flailing attempts to be unhanded. As she sighed, Patrice said, “you are certainly not too old for a spanking if you are behaving like this, young lady. I wouldn’t be doing my job as your mother letting you carry on with your cussing and stomping tantrum about something as reasonable as wearing protection”. Cara could feel the underwear stop at her knees as her mother continued talking, slower now, like she wanted every word to be understood. “Now”, her mom went on, “since I can’t trust you to tell me when you’re ready to get dressed, I’m going to spank your bottom until I think you’re ready and do it myself. That is unless you’re SUCH a grownup that you want me to stop acting as your mom?” With that, she raised a brow, and even from her slumped position, Cara knew she meant business. “And think carefully, Cara”, her mom went on, “because you don’t get to shout and pout about being a grownup and being in charge when you’re living under our roof and completely incapable of supporting yourself, or even making safe and healthy choices”. Did… did her mom mean she had to choose between a spanking and a pull-up or… what? Moving out?! That’s what it sounded like. I mean the threat of not going on the trip would be bad enough, but it sounded like her mom was really taking things to a new level. This was so unfair! Her mom knew that Cara only made minimum wage… she worked at her mom’s dental office for goodness sake! And she often didn’t even work more than the hours her mom could force her into. She took a few courses at the local community college, but usually only giving enough effort to keep her parents off her back. She only really kept the job or school because her mom made her and anyway, she needed money to have some semblance of a life. You know, like partying, shopping, all kinds of stuff. IPlus she could convince her parents to let her use the extra car when she went into the office or to classes. Sure, she would often be later that way than when she was dropped off by her dad or sister, but was it her fault that was the only time she got to use the car to go see people?! Her parents really were unreasonable. “Well Cara?”, her mom interrupted her thoughts. Wait, she really was asking. Like… asking permission? Asking Cara permission…T-to spank her? If she weren’t in the middle of… being spanked, Cara might have gloated a bit at the clear admission of her own adulthood that her mom’s question raised. She never asked her when she was a kid for permission to put her in timeout or push her bedtime up. This was surely making her point for her! But her mom was genuinely looking for an answer it seemed, and it felt like pointing that out wasn’t going to be the best course of action for Cara just then. See! She really could make mature decisions, there really was no need for this whole show of force. She bet her mom would realize how ridiculous she had been this whole time after hearing Cara’s demure, “y-you’re still my mom”. Expecting applause for her unprecedented show of maturity, or at the very least an apology for being so unreasonably treated, Cara smirked as her mom said, “good girl”. She knew she had given the right answer and she wondered if maybe she might get some kind of reward. Cara was not, however, ready for what her mom had in mind.

Chapter Three The pigtails had done a number of Taylor’s long hair, and he didn’t have running water to deal with the mess thanks to how the water was currently shut off for the ongoing renovations. All he could do was force a brush through his dark locks in an attempt to get them back to how they usually looked. It wasn’t actually that big of a deal, now that he was safe in the privacy of his room. He and Anna weren’t particularly close as siblings, and their parents being out of town so often meant that the only time he might be seen was when he went downstairs to figure out dinner. Besides, she had seen him with unkempt hair in the mornings; the only reason he was hesitant to run into her right now was the lingering nervousness from sneaking through the house, as well as the reason why he looked slightly different than he usually did after school. Anna probably wouldn’t be that perceptive, though she would also be more familiar with hair stylings than he was. Taylor also had to make a trip down to the basement to look through the boxes of old clothes that their parents hadn’t donated or thrown away. Though he was specifically looking for Anna’s old dresses, as of course his younger sister was taller than him at this point, that search was one thing he wasn’t worried about. If Anna decided to come down to the basement herself for whatever reason, Taylor would hear the door open and have plenty of time to stash her stuff away and pretend he was there for something else. The part that made him embarrassed was that he had to find an outfit Sarah would approve of, panties included. There were a lot of pinks and purples, many of them with girly scripts, flowers, or other immature designs. He eventually found a simple dress that was solid purple, which would have to do. As for underwear, he settled on a white/pink pair of BARBIE panties. That was close enough to what he had been caught in that afternoon. Since all of his stuff was back at the school, there were a few other complications. He couldn’t work on homework, not that he took school that seriously when baseball was a better use of his time. Taylor also didn’t have his backpack, and needed a way to discreetly transport the girly outfit he was going to be changing into after his last class of the day. And then there was the matter of how he was going to get to school in the first place, as that would be quite the walk. The backpack thing was the easiest fix. It was just a matter of looking through more boxes in the basement and finding one of his old bags. His tastes for darker colors hadn’t changed much since his early teenage years, so the alternative backpack wasn’t the worst. Once that was sorted, he just had to ask Anna to ask one of her friends if he could ride with them tomorrow. A senior guy, being driven to school with a bunch of sophomores. Sarah and her friends were popular enough, which helped, but still. He just had to explain why he couldn’t drive himself. Waiting until the next morning wasn’t a good idea, either. There was a chance all of the seats were already taken, in which case he’d have to figure something else out. Taking the bus had crossed his mind, except he had no idea what the schedule was or where the closest stop to their house was. So he reluctantly knocked on Anna’s door, ultimately giving up on his earlier plan to avoid her for the whole night. Anna didn’t comment on his hair, nor did she seem to notice or care. However, she was predictably difficult about his request. “I’m pretty sure the last time I asked you for a ride to my friend’s house, you laughed in my face. Why can’t you drive yourself, anyway?” It was more of a scoff, but still. Going with the best lie he had come up with before approaching her, Taylor explained how he and his friends drove together to hang out after school, and swinging back to get his car was too much of a pain once there was traffic. “Uh huh,” Anna said, crossing her arms, “I still don’t see how this is my problem.” After a little more back and forth, Anna offered a compromise. She was enjoying the fact that her older brother was relying on her for something, but also wanted to be careful that she wouldn’t get in trouble for being the reason he didn’t make it to school. And, unlike him, she wasn’t a brat who enjoyed picking on easy targets. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, “But you’re going to give me $20 for gas, and treat all of us to coffee on the way. Deal?” He reluctantly agreed. That was a good chunk of his monthly allowance, though he also had a credit card for emergencies, baseball expenses, etc. The following morning, Taylor stuffed everything he needed into his old backpack. Dress, panties, Mary Janes, and the hair ties for the pigtails he’d be in later. He knew no one would be going through the bag, yet he still felt the need to cover up the girly clothes with one of his baseball uniforms. That, and he was still holding onto the slim hope that Sarah would let him off the hook and he’d be able to go to practice like he was supposed to. When Anna’s friend arrived to pick them up, she made it clear right away that she wasn’t impressed that their school’s star pitcher was getting into her car. To her, Taylor was simply Anna’s obnoxious older brother. “My car, my rules,” she said, as the two siblings got into the back of her hand-me-down sedan, “No talking unless one of us asks you something, or I’ll pull over and let you out. Cash for coffee and gas?” She held out her hand expectantly. He couldn’t believe a sophomore was talking to him like that. And that she was getting away with it. Her little power trip did make a little bit of sense, as she wasn’t someone Taylor could target later for revenge. Between her confidence and the fact that she was one of Anna’s friends, she knew how much she could get away with while Taylor was relying on her for a ride. “My wallet is at school,” Taylor admitted. “Anna?” she asked. “I’ll pay for now,” Anna shrugged, “Taylor will pay me back later, plus interest. As long as he admits that sophomores girls are better than senior boys.” Suddenly, all three girls were staring at him. Feeling put on the spot, though alert enough to make sure none of them had their phones recording him, he begrudgingly muttered the phrase. Repeating it word for word in a flat tone made it so it was obvious that he didn’t mean it, though the girls still giggled in amusement. Once they were done having fun taking advantage of the rare situation where Anna’s older brother needed something from them, everyone basically pretended like he didn’t exist. Taylor didn’t mind being ignored, though having his phone would have been a nice distraction from the giggles and all the girly conversations he didn’t care about. All three girls ordered large specialty drinks, splurging more than they normally would since Anna would be fully reimbursed later. Then they headed to the school, where Anna’s friend pulled over half a block from the parking lot. “You can get out here, Taylor!” she said, “Do you need a ride after school?” No, he didn’t. As for being dropped off in a less convenient spot, that was fine. He didn’t need to be seen carpooling with them, just like they didn’t want to be seen doing a favor for some jock. As Taylor crossed the nearby intersection and made his way towards the school, he slowed down to check on his own car . . . It was nowhere to be seen. Had it been towed? Maybe. That, or he was mis-remembering where he had parked it the previous day, and just couldn’t spot it amidst all the other vehicles. Students didn’t get reserved spots, so it was always first come/first served each morning. He didn’t have time to investigate, as the warning bell meant that he only had five minutes to swing by his locker and get to his first class. Thanks to the mortifying events of the previous day, as well as how Sarah took him directly home after daycare, Taylor hadn’t done any schoolwork. That wasn’t completely out of character for him, since he and his friends would often hang out after baseball practice and shirk all of their responsibilities. Still, he usually found time to at least do the bare minimum, like burning through a simple assignment at breakfast or cramming for an upcoming quiz. The school day was normal enough; once he was sitting with his teammates in first period, Taylor gradually settled into the familiar routine. Talking about the upcoming game, picking on a couple of the usual targets, and generally being immature boys between classes and at lunch. He didn’t say anything about how he was going to have to miss practice later; his excuse was pretty weak, and he didn’t want someone to mention it to their coach before the end of the day. Instead, he waited until the end of PE before turning to one of the guys and lying about how his parents screwed up and scheduled an appointment for him on the wrong day. Naturally, they told him to blow it off and come to practice instead. If something like that actually did happen, that’s exactly what Taylor would do. But since he needed to satisfy Sarah’s conditions, he just came up with some bullshit about how it was important and that rescheduling stuff like that was a total chore thanks to how his parents were out of town so often. Learning his lesson from before, Taylor didn’t shower right away. His friends hadn’t shared any knowing glances or said anything about the prank, which made him think it was some random classmate who thought it would be funny. Either way, he waited until the area was mostly cleared out and, this time around, had a spare set of clothes secured in his locker as an extra precaution. He also wasn’t going to put on panties and a dress in the boys’ locker room. After drying off, he grabbed his stuff and made his way to the bathrooms just around the corner from where the daycare room was. Bracing himself for the awkwardness, he called into the girls’ bathroom, “Anyone still in here?” If there was, he planned on darting into the other bathroom and letting the person(s) think it was a janitor checking. Luckily for Taylor, it was empty. He tentatively stepped into the opposite gender’s restroom, quickly scanning the stalls to make sure some shy girl had failed to speak up or whatever. Once he was sure it was clear, he darted into the far stall and hung his backpack on the hook before stripping down. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. Putting on an old pair of his sister’s panties, followed by a childish dress. And, finally, swapping out his shoes for the Mary Janes he had been given yesterday. It wasn’t too late. He could still change into his baseball gear and go to practice, and tell his teammates that he decided to skip his fake appointment. Sarah’s leverage on him was too damning, however, and degrading himself for the second day in a row was the only way to make sure no one else saw it. The ‘girl’ in the mirror was an embarrassing sight. Taylor knew he was a guy, which meant he could see that it was a short male in a dress looking back at him. But he could also see how Ms. Hamilton and the others so easily believed he was a younger girl. Between his height, his long hair, and his barely existent body hair, the dress that he was wearing easily sealed the deal in terms of making him look like a girl who belonged in daycare. Doing his best to will the blush away, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the girls’ bathroom. At least he had his stuff this time. Life after daycare would be a lot easier now, even if it made him a little nervous to have identification and high school assignments stashed in his bag. But Ms. Hamilton had no reason to go through his things; as long as Taylor didn’t take out his actual assignments, like some of the other girls did, he’d be fine. He hesitantly turned the corner, walking towards the classroom of girls and bracing himself for another afternoon of daycare. Right away, he thought Ms. Hamilton was going to figure out that he didn’t actually belong there and start asking questions. To his surprise, she simply greeted him with a smile and checked his name on the sign-in sheet. As in, there was a name to check off. Before he could dwell on that, Sarah was sauntering over. “Taylor!” she exclaimed, “So good to see you again.” Her smile wasn’t quite as friendly. “Come on, I can do your hair.” With that, she took his hand and walked him to a desk near the opposite corner of the room. At this point, only around half of the girls had arrived, giving them plenty of time to get sorted. “You should really learn how to do this yourself, by the way. Pigtails are perfect for a little girl like you. Maybe your older sister can teach you?” Taylor simply sat there and allowed the nerdy girl to braid his hair. From here on out, any talking he did would have to be in a feminine tone, so he only planned on talking unless absolutely necessary. As badly as he wanted to ask about how his name had been added to the list, or say something about how he was not a little girl, he opted to stay quiet. Of course, Sarah wasn’t going to make it that easy. “You’re wearing panties, right?” With how she was positioned behind him during the braiding process, she could speak close to his ear and keep anyone else from overhearing their conversation. Grateful that he was facing away from the girl, Taylor blushed and gave a small nod. “Good,” she giggled, “Where did you get them? You better not be wearing the same pair as yesterday.” Taylor tensed up. Would Sarah know if he was lying? She gave him a ride home, and there wasn’t a store that was particularly close to his house. There was a good chance she already had an idea of how he acquired panties between then and now. Clearing his throat, doing his best to recreate the girly voice from yesterday, he meekly said, “My sister . . . ” “Wow, really?” Sarah asked, “What did Anna say when you asked to borrow her panties?” It- It wasn’t like that! “Umm, she didn’t,” Taylor muttered. He gave a brief yet awkward explanation as to how he found some of her old clothes. Sarah just smirked, reveling in how the tables were totally turned on the jock that usually bullied her and so many others. “You’re such a freak, Taylor. Going through your sister’s underwear. Dressing up like a little girl. Did you wear Anna’s panties all day?” Taylor merely shook his head. No, he just changed into all of this. As for the rest, he was in no position to defend himself. It did sound bad out of context, even though they both knew he was only doing this because he had to. Regardless, it would be better if Sarah stopped referencing his sister, who had nothing to do with this. “Huh. That’s no fun,” Sarah replied, “From now on, I want you in panties 24/7. You clearly like wearing them, and it will remind you that you secretly wish you were a girl despite how you pretend otherwise at school.” “No, you said-” Taylor started, cutting himself off as he tried to remember what exactly Sarah had said. The whole thing was kind of a humiliating blur, outside of her insistence that he show up again to daycare. Still, the point was that he was only supposed to deal with this for another afternoon. “I said you needed to decide,” Sarah giggled again, giving his completed pigtail a flick, “You chose daycare. Besides, I already went through the trouble of getting you registered. If you don’t show up, Ms. Hamilton is going to call your sister to verify that you’re not coming. We can re-negotiate some of this stuff after daycare on Friday, okay? Until then, you’re only allowed to wear panties.” Until Friday?! He couldn’t skip that many practices! Not to mention the rest of it. That his name was on the list because Sarah had registered him, the implication that Anna’s number was used for contact information, and the suggestion that he should wear panties to class. “Sarah-” “Shush, Tay-Tay.” As she finished up the second braid, she gripped both of them and gave a rough tug. “You think picking on girls is funny? Now you can see what it’s like to be a girl who gets pushed around.” “But-” he started to protest. “I said shush,” Sarah murmured, with another sharp tug, “It’s up to you, girl. We could make it two weeks of daycare. Or you can agree that you deserve to wear panties through Friday. Which would you prefer?” ----------------------- Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "From Taylor to Tay-Tay" (10+ parts) and other exclusive stories on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia

Friday, August 12 I’m not a big kid anymore. I had too many accidents, and I didn’t tell anyone when I had one. Sarah doesn’t think I can tell when I’m wet, but that’s not true. It’s embarrassing, so I don’t say anything about it. Unfortunately, that means I’m still a baby and I have to wear diapers all the time. Sarah put me back in diapers, but I think it was my mom’s idea. I used the potty three times on Wednesday. The first time was after Ashley changed me. Tara noticed me tugging at my Pull-up and hopping around. She said, “Eddie, you’re doing a pee-pee dance; go potty.” I don’t think Sarah noticed, so she didn’t know that I almost wet my Pull-up. I used the potty again right before dinner, and the third time was just before bedtime. That didn’t count, because mom told me to go potty before going to bed. I was wet the next morning, so I had to sit in a highchair during breakfast. Fortunately, now that I know the rules, I didn’t complain about it. I willingly sat in the highchair and got to be a big kid after breakfast. When mom handed me my Pull-up, she pleaded, “Eddie, please use the potty today. These aren’t diapers, so you need to use the potty.” I huffed, “I know mom!” Mom glared back, “Don’t use that tone with me! You’ve already had two accidents. That’s too many. If that happens again, you’re going back to diapers.” She paused and warned, “By the way, if that happens, you’ll have to wear them to school.” I begged, “Please mommy, don’t do that.” “Eddie, that’s not up to me. That’s up to you, isn’t it? If you use the potty, like we hope, you’ll wear underwear and be a big kid. If you don’t, you’ll go back to diapers and be a baby.” Yesterday was our last outing of the summer. Emily’s day camp is over, so she went with us. We invited our Play Group, but Ethan and Cole are on vacation. That meant there were seven girls, and I was the only boy. I didn’t fit in with anybody. Caitlyn and Emily took turns pushing Tara’s stroller and seemed to have a great time. I’m not an adult, so I didn’t fit in with Sarah, Ashley, Nicole, or Caitlyn’s mom either. Since it was a special occasion, they considered taking us to Great America. However, it’s more expensive, Tara doesn’t like roller coasters, and I don’t think Emily does either. I prefer the roller coasters at Disneyland. The ones at Great America and Six Flags are too scary. We like going to the zoo, and it’s a lot closer. It’s close enough for Tara and me to take naps after we get home. I’ve gotten to know the animals, so I like the zoo more than Great America. Even though I was a big kid, Sarah still put my stroller in the van. When I saw it, I asked, “Why are you taking the stroller? I’m not a baby anymore.” Sarah laughed, “I know that, but I know what you’re like. Don’t worry, I won’t use it unless you wander off. As long as you stay close to me, you won’t sit in it. But, if I lose track of you, you’re sitting in the stroller.” I protested, “I don’t need a stroller! I’m not a baby.” Sarah smirked, “Let’s hope not.” I should’ve heeded her warning. Sarah is just like my mom, and she meant was she said. Caitlyn and Emily pushed Tara’s stroller just ahead of the adults, but Sarah wouldn’t let me get that far away from her. She said, “I don’t want you to wander off, so you have to stay close to me.” I promised to stay next to them, but she didn’t care. That made me mad. After that, I got distracted by the otters. I remember Sarah saying, “Eddie, we’re leaving,” but I kept looking at the otters. When I looked back, everybody was gone. I looked for them outside of the exhibit, but I couldn’t see them. I was afraid that I would get even more lost, so I sat on a bench and waited for somebody to find me. At first, Sarah was relieved. “There you are. Thank God I found you. I’m glad you didn’t try to search for us.” She took a firm hold of my arm and said, “Okay, let’s go.” I realized we were heading to the exit and asked, “Where is everybody else?” “They’re with the Elephants, but we’re going to the van.” I knew why, but I asked anyway. “Why?” Sarah replied, “I think you already know.” I begged, “Please! No! I’ll be good. I promise. I’m a big kid, please don’t make me sit in a stroller. Please, don’t be mad at me. I’ll be good.” Sarah looked me straight in the eyes, “Eddie, I’m not mad at you. This used to make me mad, but not anymore. You’re not doing it on purpose, but I don’t think you can help it.” I cried, “I’m not. It’s not on purpose.” “I know it’s not on purpose; that’s why you need a stroller.” “But why? I’m not a baby. I don’t want to sit in a stroller!” Normally I get in trouble when I whine that much, but this time she hugged me. “I know you don’t want it, but you need it. You keep getting lost, and it’s not safe. I don’t think it’s your fault. If you knew how to stop doing this, it wouldn’t happen all the time. You either need to sit in a stroller, or I need to put a leash on you.” I protested, “No, I hate the leash. Please, no.” Sarah sighed, “I don’t like the leash either, so you have to sit in the stroller.” I reluctantly got in the stroller and let her buckle me in. She asked, “now, tell me why I put you in the stroller.” I didn’t want to admit the truth, so I stayed silent. She asked again, “Eddie, tell me why you need a stroller?” “Is it because I’m still a baby?” “No, that’s not it. What did you do?” “I got lost.” “Why did you get lost?” “Because I didn’t stay close to you.” “Did you do it on purpose, or was it an accident?” I meekly replied, “It was an accident.” “What does that mean?” I didn’t want to say anything, but she repeated it. “Come on, what does that mean, Eddie?” She prompted me, “Do you need to ride in a stroller?” I shook my head, “I don’t want to ride in a stroller.” “That’s not what I asked, is it?” She repeated, “Do you need to ride in a stroller?” I nodded, but I didn’t answer. She replied, “Say it to me.” “I need one.” I couldn’t bring myself to say stroller, but it was good enough for Sarah. She hugged me and asked, “So now that you understand, are you going to be a sourpuss and whine, or will you be good?” “I’ll be good.” She rubbed my head and said, “Thank you. Let’s go back to everybody else.” I realized the bathroom might be a loophole. How can I use the bathroom if I’m stuck in a stroller? “What about the potty?” “What do you mean?” “What do I do when I have to go potty?” “Oh. Just let me know, and I’ll take you.” When we went past the gate, Sarah nodded at the guard and said, “We tried.” Even though I was technically a big kid, I wasn’t one anymore. Now that I was in a stroller, Caitlyn and Emily both had a stroller to push. Emily was first to call it. “I get to push Tara.” Caitlyn whined, “But I want to push Tara! Why can’t you push Eddie?” I didn’t want to be pushed by Emily, so I cried, “No, I don’t want that.” Caitlyn and Emily kept arguing until the adults admonished them. “If you don’t decide, you won’t be able to push either of them.” I was fine with that, but Tara wasn’t. She said, “Come on, Eddie. Let them push us, it’s funner.” In the end, Emily pushed Tara, and Caitlyn pushed me. I didn’t want to ask Sarah to take me to the potty, nor did I want to ask anybody else, so I peed in my Pull-up. After that, I heard Caitlyn mutter, “Uh-oh.” I thought it was about me, and asked “What happened?” She moaned, “I just peed.” I looked, but her shorts weren’t wet. “It doesn’t look like it. Maybe it was just a little bit, and you don’t have to tell anybody.” She replied, “I had an accident yesterday, so I’m wearing Pull-ups. If I don’t let my mom know about this, she’ll put me back in diapers.” She looked at her mom and sobbed, “Mommy, I’m sorry. I just had an accident.” Her mom was calm but disappointed. “It’s okay honey. Let’s get you cleaned up. Thanks for letting me know.” After they walked away, Sarah commented, “Eddie, you haven’t used the potty yet. Are you still dry?” I stammered. “Huh? Um, yeah?” Sarah dubiously responded, “That doesn’t sound convincing.” She squeezed my Pull-up and sighed. “Eddie, you’re soaked. We need to take care of this.” She didn’t seem mad, or even disappointed. It’s almost like she expected it to happen. She took me to the companion bathroom and said, “You know the drill. Climb up on the table.” I asked, “Is this because I didn’t tell you?” Sarah sighed, “I guess.” After she finished with the Pull-up, she grabbed a diaper from the bag. I cried, “That’s a diaper! Why do I have to wear that?” Sarah replied, “Well, it’s obvious you’re not ready for the potty. You still need diapers.” I protested, “I don’t need diapers. This is stupid. I’m not a baby.” Sarah was exasperated, “Eddie, you’ve had three accidents already. You’re not telling us, and you lie when we ask about it. That means one of two things. You either don’t care, or you can’t tell when you’re wet. Either way, you need diapers. Why did you lie when I asked, and why didn’t you tell me about your accident?” “I was embarrassed.” “Embarrassed? So, you’d rather sit in a soggy Pull-up? That means you’re not ready to be a big kid. Big kids use the potty. You know that don’t you?” I hate it when people ask questions that I’m not supposed to answer. I asked, “Does that mean I’m a baby again?” “Big kids don’t wear diapers, do they?” Since I was now a baby, I had to take a nap after we got home. Mom was so disappointed when she woke me up. She lamented, “Oh, Eddie. I hoped it would work this time.” I cried, “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. You’re not doing this on purpose, are you?” That’s ridiculous! Why would I want this? I don’t want to be a baby. I cried, “I’m not doing it on purpose.” Mom remarked, “That means you’re not ready to be potty trained.” I protested, “but I was potty trained before. I didn’t pee my pants. It was only at night!” Mom sighed, “I’m not so sure anymore. If that really was true, it wouldn’t be so difficult now, would it? I know you didn’t have many accidents, but sometimes I had to remind you, and you didn’t always do everything that you were supposed to do. Dr. Bennett said that you needed to start from the very beginning, and I think he was right. To be honest, it’s my fault. I should have trusted my instinct. I knew you weren’t ready after last time, but I wanted to get you out of diapers before school started. I rushed it, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about that.” I asked, “What about school? Am I gonna wear diapers to school?” Mom sighed, “I’m afraid so. You don’t want to have an accident at school, do you?” Of course not! I shook my head. Mom hugged me, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. I let the school know about this and we will talk with them tomorrow.” I exclaimed, “You told the school!” “Yes, I had to. They need to know what’s happening.” “What do you mean? I’m not going to be like this at school, am I?” Mom shook her head. “No, they don’t let babies go to high school, but they need to know that you have problems making it to the potty.” “What did you tell them?” “I told them that you’ve had some accidents and need to wear diapers. We will talk with your guidance counselor about it when you pick up your schedule tomorrow.” Today, mom took us to school to pick up our schedules and talk with my guidance counselor. I had a diaper on, but I wore normal clothes; I wasn’t dressed like a little kid. I was afraid that other kids could tell, but both Sarah and Ashley said that it didn’t show. I didn’t trust them, so I asked Tara. “Can you tell that I have a diaper on?” Tara shook her head, “No, you look normal. Don’t worry so much. Caitlyn told me nobody could tell when she wore diapers, and she didn’t have to worry about accidents.” Talking with a guidance counselor was super embarrassing. Mom immediately blurted out, “This is my son, Eddie, that I emailed you about. What’s the best way to handle this at school?” The counselor nodded, “Ms. O’Connor, I totally understand. Eddie’s dignity is the most important thing right now. It might surprise you, but Eddie isn’t the only student with these kind of issues. Have you thought about our virtual school?” I know other kids who do that, and they don’t have to come to school. Mom asked, “He can do that?” “Yes. Students do all their work on a computer, and they don’t come on campus. It works really well for some students, but not so much for others.” I thought that was the best option, but mom didn’t agree. She remarked, “I’m not so sure about that. Eddie has such a hard time socializing, even before this. He may never leave the house if we try that. I still want him to be around other kids his age.” After that, I agreed with my mom, and I didn’t want to be a baby all the time. The only class I’m worried about is PE, because I have to dress out. There are a whole bunch of other kids in the locker room, and they might see my diaper. I asked, “What about PE?” Mom replied, “Why? What’s wrong with PE?” I replied, “somebody might see when I dress out.” My counselor agreed, “Yep, that’s always a concern. What about a hybrid option? Eddie can take four classes here, and the other two virtually. That way he won’t have to take PE on campus, but he still gets social interaction with other kids.” Mom asked me, “What do you think, Eddie? Will at work for you?” I shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess.” My counselor nodded, “That’s great. Just let me know what your other class will be, and I will change his schedule. Why don’t you speak with our nurse? She can help with the logistics of Eddie’s issue.” I noticed my counselor never said anything about diapers or wetting my pants. She called it a problem, or an issue. Talking with the school nurse was even more embarrassing. Mom didn’t say anything about diapers to the counselor, but the nurse asked about them with her first question. “How does Eddie handle his incontinence?” Mom shared, “He wears a diaper. I know there are other options, but it’s what works best for us.” The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s the point of using protection, isn’t it? If it doesn’t work, it’s useless.” The nurse turned her attention to me, “Eddie, I know how embarrassing this is, but I don’t want you to worry. Nobody has to know anything about it. Some kids keep their products in their backpack and come here when they need to change. Other kids keep them here. It’s all up to you.” I asked, “What if people look in my bag?” She smiled, “Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Why do people keep asking me questions that I can’t answer? She continued, “That’s why some kid’s keep them here. It’s your choice.” It didn’t seem like much of a choice. I mumbled, “Okay.” The nurse asked, “One more thing. Eddie, do you have any idea when you’re about to go?” I nodded, “Sometimes.” “In that case, I’ll give you a special pass. You can go to the bathroom whenever you need to, just show it to your teacher.” She continued, “Eddie, this is very important. Your teachers are supposed to let you go to the bathroom whenever you need to. I need to know if they don’t let you leave. If that happens, come straight here and tell me. Is that understood?” It sounded like I was in trouble, so I asked, “Why?” The nurse patted me on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry honey, you won’t be in trouble. If they don’t let you go, it’s the teacher who will get in trouble. It’s the law, and I need to know if they aren’t following it.”

Wednesday, July 27, 2016 I used the potty! I got to sit on the potty yesterday, but I didn’t get to use it. I had to use my diaper. Today, after breakfast, Sarah let me sit on the potty without a diaper. She said, “Let’s see if you can go poo-poo in the potty. It’s where big kids go potty.” It was really hard. I’m not used to pooping that way, and it took me a while to start. It’s easier to poop when I squat, and I don’t like it when people watch. The practice helped; it was a lot easier than Monday. I forgot that I had to wipe, but Sarah wanted to show me first. I complained, “Sarah, I already know how to wipe.” Sarah scoffed, “Really? Your underwear told a different story. It’s important that you learn how to do it right this time.” I guess letting her wipe me was better than having my legs held up like a baby. After she finished she said, “Next time, you’re going to do this by yourself. Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish.” When Tara and Ashley got in the car, Sarah excitedly shared, “Guess who went poo-poo in the potty this morning?” Ashley seemed excited, “Way to go Eddie! I’m so proud of you. You’re almost ready to be a big kid. What do you say, Tara?” Tara wasn’t as excited, but eked out, “That’s good, Eddie. I’m happy for you.” I asked, “Did you get to try?” Tara shook her head, “No.” She turned away and put her pacifier in her mouth, so I knew she didn’t want to talk. On Monday, we made a big deal when Cole used the potty. We lined up and clapped as he walked by, which Ms. Tracy called the walk of honor. This morning, Caitlyn’s mom shared, “Caitlyn went in the potty yesterday. She did it three times!” We gave her a walk of honor; cheering and clapping as she walked by. After Caitlyn finished, Sarah shared my news. “Eddie went poo-poo in the potty this morning.” Ms. Tracey praised, “That’s wonderful! Okay, boys and girls, moms and sisters, it’s time for Eddie to do the walk of honor!” Everybody lined up and clapped as I walked by. I know it sounds weird, but it felt good. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me. Later, while we were playing, Ethan’s mom asked him, “Honey, do you want to use the potty?” He shrugged. His mom asked, “It looks like you need to go poo-poo, why don’t you try?” He knew it was bad to say no, especially if he pooped in his diaper. I don’t think he would have gone unless his mom told him to, but he followed her to the bathroom. They came back a few minutes later. Ms. Lisa proudly exclaimed, “He did it! He went poo-poo in the potty, just like a big boy.” Once again, we got in our line and gave Ethan a walk of honor. After that, I used the potty two more times, and I didn’t use my diaper. The walk of honor is only for the first time, but everybody gave me a high five. Cole didn’t use his diaper either. He had to go more than I did, so he got more high fives than me. Ethan and Caitlyn both got high fives, but they also had their diaper changed. Tara was the only one who didn’t use the potty. She sat on it a couple of times yesterday, but didn’t use it. She and I were doing the same thing, which makes sense. We’re kind of like brother and sister, and we’re treated the same way. Tara’s diaper was changed after we got to Play Group, and a little later Ashley wanted her to try. “Let’s see if you can use the potty.” Tara whined, “I don’t want to!” Tara only whines when they make us take a nap, so that was strange. Ashley seemed confused, “What? You don’t want to be a big girl?” “No! I don’t want to go potty. No potty!” Tara talks a lot, but only when she’s happy. When she’s not, she sucks on her pacifier and sulks quietly. This time she seemed upset and was close to throwing a tantrum. Ashley tried again, “Come on, honey. I know you have to go potty. Please, do it for me.” “No. Please Ashy. I don’t wanna potty.” “Why?” Tara could barely speak. She kept crying and begging, “No, please. Mo—mean.” I didn’t understand what she said, and Ashley took her to another room to calm down. They were alone for a while. Ashley came back without Tara, and Sarah looked concerned, “What’s going on?” Ashley shrugged, “I don’t know. She won’t tell me. She calmed down and she is taking a nap. I think we have to stop the potty training for a little bit.” I wet my diaper during my nap, but I was sleeping, so it shouldn’t count. Sarah said, “Eddie, I’m super proud of you. You did one poo-poo, and two pee-pees in the potty, just like a big boy!” Hearing that from Sarah was nice. I know she talks to me like I’m a little kid, but that’s what everybody does. I cried, “But I peed during my nap.” Sarah hugged me, “That’s alright honey. Accidents are okay if they don’t happen a lot. You were sleeping. Now, I want you to try to go without somebody telling you. Tell someone before you go pee-pee.” “Who should I tell?” “You can tell me, mommy, or Ashy. Emily is a big kid also, so you can ask her.” “But I don’t want to tell Emily.” Sarah ignored that bit. “Just try to be a big boy and use the potty. It’s alright if you use your diaper, but make sure to tell somebody if you do.” Unfortunately, I wet my diaper while I was playing with Tara and Emily. I might have been able to hold it, but it started coming out and I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to tell Emily about it, and we were having a lot of fun. I didn’t want to stop playing, so I decided to wait. I could have told Ashley when she checked Tara’s diaper, but I forgot. Tara’s was dry, but then Ashley checked mine. “Eddie, weren’t you supposed to tell somebody if you went pee-pee in your diaper.” I cried, “Sarah wasn’t here.” “I know honey, but you could have told Emily.” “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” Ashley looked at me sympathetically, “It’s okay honey. I’m not mad. Let’s get you in a nice clean diaper.” Ashley spends so much time at our house that she changes my diaper just as much as Sarah does. Ashley and Sarah will trade off, and whoever checks the diaper has to change it, even if it’s poopy.

Monday, July 25, 2016 I got in trouble a few weeks ago because I asked, “Mommy, when can I use the potty again?” Mom answered, “Not until you’re ready.” I stomped my foot and cried, “I am ready! I want to use the potty.” Mom got mad, put me in timeout, and then made me sit in my playpen for the rest of the day. My diaper is always wet when they check, so I don’t get in trouble for holding my pee anymore. I stopped asking to use the potty a long time ago, and they stopped praising me for using my diaper. They just change it and then give me a big hug. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask for a diaper change, but it doesn’t matter because they change it before I ask. Last week at Play Group we watched potty-training videos. They were cartoons meant for little kids, but it was the first time anybody talked about the potty. Maybe that means that they are starting to potty train me, but I’m afraid to ask. Yesterday, after breakfast, my mom asked, “Do you want to try to poop on the potty?” I was excited. It was the first time mom said anything about using the potty. I quickly answered, “Really? Yes, please!” I thought I was going to use the toilet, just like I used to. I would get to sit on the potty, poop, and then go back to being a normal kid. Instead, she said, “Big kids use the potty for poo-poo and pee-pee. I want you to practice being a big kid. Sit on the potty like a big boy and do your poo-poo.” I asked, “What about my diaper?” Mom shook her head, “No, you’re not ready for that. I want you to practice first. After you practice, you’ll get to poo-poo in the potty.” That didn’t make any sense, but nothing makes sense anymore. Mom doesn’t think I’m potty trained and she thinks I’m two years old. I didn’t complain because I didn’t want her to get mad. If she gets mad, she might stop potty-training, and I’ll be stuck in diapers for a long time. I sat on the toilet and tried to poo. However, mom was watching, and I couldn’t. I demanded, “Mommy, go away! I can’t poo when you’re watching.” She glared, “Don’t talk to me like that! Don’t use that tone with me, or anybody else. You’re not allowed to be in the bathroom by yourself, so I need to watch you.” I tried, but I couldn’t. After a while, mom said, “Okay, it doesn’t look like you’re ready. Let’s try again later.” She took me off the potty and took me back to the living room. I walked to my favorite corner, squatted, and pooped in my diaper. I thought mom would be mad, but she wasn’t. She hugged me after changing my poopy diaper, just like she always does. Sarah did the same thing this morning. She took me to the bathroom and had me sit on the potty, just like mom. She said, “Let see if you can poo-poo on the potty.” It was easier with Sarah, but still hard. I only poohed a little. It was hard to do it while Sarah was watching, and it’s easier to poop when I squat. She praised me before she changed my diaper, but I still had to poo. I squatted in my corner and put the rest of the poop in my diaper. That made Sarah mad. “Eddie, you’re supposed to poop on the potty, like a big kid. I hope you’re ready; I don’t think you want to wear a diaper to school, do you?” I hadn’t thought about that, but now I’m not so sure. I didn’t think this would take so long. I thought it would just be a few weeks, but I’ve been in diapers for two months. School starts in three weeks, and what happens if I still need diapers? Caitlyn has worn diapers since Christmas, and I wondered if she wore them to school. I didn’t ask about it until today. “Did you wear diapers to school?” Caitlyn blushed, and mumbled, “yes.” “What was it like? Did the other kids tease you?” Caitlyn’s answer surprised me. “Not really. I don’t think anybody could tell. My mommy did this because I peed my pants a lot. The other kids called me names and made fun of me, all the time. After mommy put me back in diapers, I didn’t pee my pants anymore. I wasn’t teased as much, and they started to make fun of other kids, so I wasn’t the only one. It was way better.” I asked, “Nobody could tell?” “I don’t think so. They never said anything. My friend didn’t know until I told her.” “You told your friend?” “Yeah, but she is nice, and she promised not to tell anybody. She wanted to see what they were like.” “Did she try one?” “No; she was afraid and didn’t ask my mom.” I shook my head, “I hope that I don’t have to wear diapers to school.” Caitlyn replied, “Me either, but it’s better than peeing my pants. My mommy took me to the potty yesterday, so I might be potty trained before school. Hopefully, it works this time.” That’s when I realized that my mom is doing the same thing. I replied, “I think that’s what my mommy is doing. She wanted me to poop on the potty and didn’t take my diaper off.” “That’s what my mommy does. I get to sit on the potty and poop in my diaper, and then I pee in my diaper while sitting on the potty. After that, mommy lets me go in the potty, and then I get to wear Pull-ups.” I remarked, “I couldn’t poop in front of my mom. I waited until she took me off the potty and then pooped in my diaper.” Caitlyn warned, “Don’t do that!” “Why?” “That’s why it’s taken me so long. I couldn’t poop in front of my mommy, so she didn’t think I was ready to be potty trained. I had to stay in diapers.” My mom did the same thing. I didn’t start potty training until I was five. Back then, Sarah still wore diapers. It wasn’t every day; but she did when we were out of the house, or she had too many accidents. She got in trouble when she peed her pants, but not when she wet her diaper. I thought it was okay to wear diapers, and it was bad to pee your pants. I knew other kids my age didn’t wear diapers, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. Mom said, “It’s too hard to take care of three babies, and you’re both too old for diapers. You need to be potty trained before your sister is born.” She took us to the bathroom all the time and made us sit on the potty until we peed. We still had accidents, even with mom constantly taking us to the potty. When I had an accident, she got mad, but she didn’t get mad when I had a wet diaper. After Emily was born, mom couldn’t take us to the potty anymore. We kept having accidents, and she decided diapers were easier than wet pants. Mom put both Sarah and me back in diapers, and we stayed in them until August. That was after my sixth birthday, and just before I started kindergarten. I wore Pull-ups to school, but I had to wear a diaper whenever I had an accident. When I stayed dry, mom said, “See, that’s easy. Why don’t you do that every day?” Mom didn’t let me wear underwear until I went three days without an accident, which didn’t happen until first grade. If I had an accident, I went back to Pull-ups. That happened a lot in first grade. It didn’t happen that much in second grade, and only once in third grade. Sarah had more accidents than me, so it was worse for her. She didn’t get to wear panties until fourth grade, and she still had accidents in fifth grade. I thought it would be easy, but I don’t know anymore. I know when I have to poo, but not when I have to pee. Sometimes, it just comes out. At Play Group, Caitlyn and Cole got to sit on the potty. Cole peed, and we cheered, but Caitlyn didn’t. I didn’t get to sit on the potty because my diaper was wet every time Sarah checked it.

Monday, July 18, 2016 I don’t think I’ve posted since we went to Disneyland, but I don’t have much to talk about. Every day is the same. I wake up, eat, poop, play, eat, nap, poop, play, eat and sleep. I know that I have Play Group on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but sometimes I forget what day it is. Sometimes we go to the zoo, sometimes we go shopping, and sometimes we stay home. It gets confusing to remember what day it is. One day, which was right after we went to Disneyland, Sarah got mad at me. I begged, “Please! I don’t want to sit in the stroller! I’ll be good, I promise.” When Sarah heard me whine, she scoffed. “Eddie, seriously! Why are you still on this? You know what my answer will be, but you keep whining about it. Why can’t you be like Tara? She got in her stroller without fussing. She wants to see the tigers, but we can’t leave until you sit in your stroller. Please, just sit down, so we can go.” I cried, “But people will see me.” “Nobody cares. Eddie, you sat in your stroller all day at Disneyland, and nobody said anything.” “What if they make fun of me?” “Nobody makes fun of you. It doesn’t matter, it’s none of their business anyway.” Tara pleaded, “Please Eddie, I want to see the tigers!” Finally, Sarah replied, “Eddie, that’s enough stalling. I’ll give you a choice. You can sit in the stroller and have fun at the zoo, or we go home, and you stay in your playpen. What is it going to be?” The playpen is worse than the stroller, and that would make Tara mad, so I reluctantly chose the stroller. I was still mad, so Sarah put a pacifier in my mouth. She smirked, “you’re so darn cute when you pout. When you’re done pouting, I’ll take out your binky.” I pouted for a few minutes, but nobody paid attention. Everybody ignored me. Eventually I got tired of pouting and happily watched the animals. They even took us to the petting zoo, which was fun, even with a bunch of real little kids around. I think Sarah and Ashley take us to the zoo because they know where everything is. We’ve gone enough that they know who we are, and they help us find what we need. I like it better than staying at home. Tara and Ashley come to our house almost every day, and we take our naps at the same time. We usually do something, go home, nap, and then play. Tara is treated the same as me, but she seems happy. One day I asked, “Do you like this?” Tara replied, “Do I like what?” “All the baby stuff. Do you like being a baby?” “I don’t know. Why do you think I like it?” I shrugged. I didn’t think she was weird, but I was afraid that’s what she would think. She never whines about any of this, even when Ashley puts her in a stroller. She only pouts when we have to take a nap, and she wants to keep playing. She seems happy to be a baby, and I didn’t know why. I replied, “You don’t try to resist any of this, even when Ashley puts you in a stroller. Do you really like that?” Tara’s answer shocked me. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” “It’s alright? But people see us.” “I don’t care. Nobody stares at us.” That made no sense, but that’s what she thought. “What about the diapers?” Tara blushed, “I like them.” “What! They’re for babies!” “Maybe, but I don’t haf to worry about accidents. My mom gets really mad at me when I pee my pants. She makes me sit on the potty until I pee and hits me when I take too long. Now, after Ashy changes my diaper, she hugs me. Sarah changed a poopy diaper and then hugged me and said that I was good.” “What about other kids? Aren’t you afraid that they will make fun of you?” “They already make fun of me. They say that I’m stupid and won’t play with me. I tried to be a big kid, but it’s too hard.” “Don’t you want to be normal?” “Not really. I tried being a big kid, but I’m not good at it. It’s really hard! I like to dance, and when I was little it made people happy. They said I was cute. I tried out for a dance last year, but I wasn’t good enough. I only got to do the boring stuff, and they didn’t let me dance. My teachers get mad at me because I can’t do the same work that other kids do. They say that I’m not paying attention, even when I am. Nobody yells at me anymore. I know that I’ll have to be a big kid again, but not right now. I can be a little kid and have fun.” That didn’t make any sense! Why would Tara want to be a little kid? Why does she want to wear diapers, ride in a stroller, or sit in a highchair? I kept thinking about her words, even after she left. I wondered if it was the same for me. The fact is: she is right! Being a big kid is hard, and I’m not good at it. My mom was always mad at me, no matter what I did. She got mad when I left wet sheets on the bed, or didn’t do my chores. I got in trouble when my room was messy. I’ve never felt like a big kid anyway. I know that I’m supposed to like girls, but I don’t. I like Tara, but I don’t think of her like that. Sometimes I forget that she’s a girl. I guess if I don’t like girls, than I’m supposed to like boys, but I don’t like boys that way either. I don’t know what that makes me. Kids used to make fun of me, but they don’t anymore. Now I’m the weird kid that nobody cares about, and they ignore me. I guess being a little kid isn’t that bad. I don’t have any chores, and I get to play all the time. It’s weird, but I like my crib. The bars make me feel safe and comfortable. I don’t like my bedtime, but I’m not tired during the day. I don’t like the stroller, but I don’t get lost, and nobody cares that I’m a big kid in a stroller. I agree with Tara about diapers. It’s better than waking up in wet sheets. I know it sounds strange, but wet diapers are squishy and comfortable. I don’t like pooping in my diaper, but I guess it’s part of being a baby. After that, I decided to be good. I stopped whining about the stroller. I think they might be right about it. Sarah gave me a chance to prove I don’t need one and I blew it. We went to the grocery store, and I’m too big for the cart. She didn’t want to push a stroller and a cart at the same time, so she asked, “Do you promise to be good, or do I need to put a leash on you?” The leash is worse than the stroller. “I’ll be good.” “Okay, I’ll trust you. That means you stay close to me. Don’t wander off!” I tried to be good, I really did, but I got distracted in the candy aisle. When I turned around, Sarah wasn’t there. Fortunately, she quickly found me, but she was mad. “This is why you need a stroller. I can’t trust you, so from now on, it’s either the stroller or the leash. That might even continue after you are potty trained.” Nobody has said anything about potty training, and I don’t know when they will start. I know that we only have a month until school starts, so hopefully it will be soon. I used to watch sports, but I don’t get to watch them much anymore. My screentime is limited, and it’s usually shows that Tara likes to watch. I only get to watch sports when Sarah is cleaning the house. She puts me in the playpen and turns them on to keep me occupied. It doesn’t count against my screentime, but it’s not always live. Ashley and Tara come to our house almost every day, which is fine with me. I like playing with Tara, and when she is here, I’m not the only baby in the house. Play Group is also fun, because there are more people to play with. Sometimes Tara likes to do girl things, which I don’t like. I can do boy things with Ethan and Cole, and she and Caitlyn can do girl things. Sometimes all of us play together, and that’s also fun. When we don’t go to Play Group, we go somewhere with Sarah and Ashly; sometimes Nicole will join us. I like to go to the zoo, but I don’t like going to the mall. The girls, even Tara, like to shop for clothes, which I think is boring. We went to Wisconsin last week to visit my Aunt Liz and Uncle Ron. Aunt Liz is my dad’s older sister, and their kids are both adults. I don’t see them a lot, and I don’t know them very well. Tyler is closer to my mom’s age. I think he’s thirty, so he is just another adult. Rachel is twenty-six, and I know her a little bit better. When I was nine, she took Sarah and me to a park that had rides. It was the first time that I went anywhere without my mom or dad around, and I thought that was cool. Emily was too little, so she didn’t come with us. My dad’s mom died before I was born, so I never knew her. My grandpa had a stroke a few years ago and now lives in a nursing home. He doesn’t remember who we are, so we don’t see him anymore. Last time, dad took me to the press box at the Brewers stadium, but they weren’t playing at home last week. He wanted to take me to a Cubs game, but mom wouldn’t let him. Sarah would have had to come along. However, she wanted to check out some colleges, so we couldn’t go to Chicago. I didn’t know how my aunt and uncle would react. However, my uncle didn’t even know how old I was. He said, “Oh, I thought Eddie was older than that. I thought he was old enough to be out of diapers, but it’s hard to keep track of their age.” That made my mom laugh. “I guess he is, but it takes some kids longer. This is part of a program that we are trying. We want him to stop wetting the bed.” Aunt Liz was happy about it. “Well, that’s a relief. I don’t have to worry about him ruining the mattress.” After that, she smirked, “It’s amazing how similar Eddie and his dad are. George was the same when he was Eddie’s age.” Ever since this started, my dad has tried to ignore it. He pretends that everything is normal and won’t talk about diapers. However, he didn’t like being outed by his sister. “Hey, I didn’t wear diapers when I was Eddie’s age.” Aunt Liz scoffed, “I guess, but you did when we moved back to Indonesia.” My mom asked, “George, you never told me about that. Weren’t you twelve when you moved?” Aunt Liz nodded. My dad sulked, “It was only a few weeks, and I don’t like talking about it.” I wanted to hear some more, but Sarah ushered Emily and me out of the room. I had to sleep on an air mattress, which is worse than a crib. The worst part was using a stroller at the airport. Outside, nobody really knows how old I am, but it’s obvious at the airport. The TSA guy stared awkwardly when mom put my stroller through the x-ray machine, but didn’t say anything. The gate agent asked if I needed a wheelchair to get on the plane. Mom replied, “No, it’s not for mobility. He wanders off, and he might get lost and miss the plane.” I was surprised when the gate agent nodded in agreement. She said, “Oh, that makes a lot of sense. I’ve seen it happen, even with bigger kids, and it’s never good.” They thought we needed more time to get settled, so they let us board during family boarding. Fortunately, I didn’t need my diaper changed on the plane. Mom changed my diaper before we boarded, and it lasted the whole flight. One lady noticed my stroller and diaper and made a snide comment. “Parent’s these days are just so lazy. He looks to be almost ten years old. Mine were done with diapers by two. I guess parents just don’t want children to grow up anymore.” Mom glared back and snapped, “Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s autistic.” The lady seemed offended, and it looked like she wanted to say something else, but her husband interrupted. “Honey, please stop. It doesn’t affect us.” After she turned away, he apologized, “I’m so sorry about that. You must have a tremendous amount of patience.”

Chapter 2: DEAN NORTHRUP LED me to a conference room down the hall, where I found our missing students and Matt finishing up with their own meeting. “What happened to you?” I asked him as I realized he now towered over me, even though he was shorter than our hosts. “Guess I’m one of the rare ones who grew. We had a couple of our students do that, too. Where’s everyone else?” “They all got assigned to the Little’s dorms,” I said. I noticed Northrup had left, and the others were further away. I closed the gap to him, and he leaned down toward me like one would a little kid. “I have a bad feeling about things for them…” I watched him give me a skeptical look. He was about to respond when I heard, “Doctor Benson?” from a new voice. I turned to see a woman in doctor’s scrubs, more than twice my height, closing the gap to me. I noted that my head didn’t even reach her hip height! “Yes?” I said though politely. “Great! I’m Erica Daniels; I’m your host at the hospital this semester!” She knelt on the ground before me and held out a hand. I took it politely, noting that her hand, compared to mine, made me feel like a toddler! “Nice to meet you. Call me Katherine,” I told her. “I was asked to give you both a ride to the apartments,” she told us. “You’re Doctor Owens, right?” She said to Matt. “Yes, we appreciate the ride!” “No problem. The history department chair will meet with you after the luncheon,” Erica told him. “Let’s get your stuff and get you all settled in!” I found myself walking beside Matt as the giant woman in front of us led us to a baggage collection area where only our bags now remained. My suitcase seemed bigger, but it was likely the loss of ten inches of height. ‘I wonder if anything will fit?!?’ I’d taken some precautions, bringing clothing smaller than my normal size and a few spare white coats in a handful of other sizes. I wasn’t ignorant of the possibility of shrinking, and I hoped that my planning would at least leave me something to wear after that. Erica led us outside the building, and I felt my jaw drop when I saw the massive size of the buildings around us. Like an Ivy League back home, the campus was stunning! Occasionally, you’d see students or others doing something with advanced tech. One group of students seemed to be playing some game with glasses on. “Here we are,” Erica said as we approached a vehicle. It resembled a sedan, even though the outside was devoid of locks or handles. It seemed designed to be ultra-aerodynamic with some very organic curves. With a button, the back of the vehicle opened, and she put our bags inside before leading us along the side. Then, Erica pressed the side of what I assumed was a driver’s door, and both back doors opened. Seeing a toddler’s booster seat before me, my stomach plummeted. “Matthew, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit in this seat due to your height.” “I’m taller than back home?” he asked in surprise as she patted the seat. “Yes, but you’re still about a foot short of not needing it. Sorry, the authorities here in Ames track safety seat usage quite closely.” I looked up at Matt, who sighed, shrugged, and climbed into the seat. She helped him pull a shoulder belt across him and then waved at me, “Your seat is on this side, Katherine.” Only then, on the other side of the car, I realized what kind of seat she was referring to. “Umm… can’t I at least sit in a seat like Matt?” “I’m sorry, Doctor Benson, but they told me you’re only ninety-seven pounds; rear-facing seats are required up to one-hundred and twenty pounds here.” Without warning, she picked me up and set me down in a pink rear-facing toddler car seat. “Give me your arm here,” she said politely, while I felt a firm hand guide my hand into a car seat strap like I’d done with my niece Ava just a few weeks prior. I blushed as I was grateful to have worn a pants set today instead of a skirt when she invaded my personal space even more to pull a crotch strap between my legs. I felt her pull down on the straps, and my whole body felt locked in the car seat. “There you go,” she said with a smile. “It’s a short trip over there, but I figured you wouldn’t want to walk that far with your luggage.” She closed the door, and I saw Matt’s face looking concerned. We couldn’t talk before the giant hostess climbed into the driver’s side seat, shut the door, and said, “Go to the Iliad Apartments, please.” “Yes, Doctor Daniels,” a voice responded. “It seems a little more intuitive than our systems back home,” Matt said to make small talk. “Definitely more advanced than my car,” I told him. “I’ve kept my car from high school all these years to save money trying to pay off med school bills.” “I understand that; I think I only have three more years of payments left now. Fortunately, my med school came through with extensive fellowship funds.” I tried to see out of the car windows, but my view was definitely more limited. Fortunately, it wasn’t long until we reached our destination, and I was let out after she helped Matt get the buckle. While I waited, I tried pressing the release buckle myself, but I must not have had enough strength for it. However, Erica had no problems using one hand to undo it and gave me a lift out to the ground. “That’s awkward,” I said to Matt. He nodded, “Yeah. I assume we need to find the manager’s office?” “That’s what I was told,” Erica said to me. She helped pull my two suitcases out of her car, Matthew’s one, and led us to the offices. “Good morning, looking to rent an apartment?” a tall gentleman asked. He wore a polo and slacks and had a name badge that read ‘assistant manager’ from my low position. “These two have apartments set up by Emerson?” He gave us both a look, “Names?” “I’m Doctor Matthew Owens,” he told him. “And I’m Doctor Katherine Benson,” I told him. He pressed some buttons on a tablet. “I see the accounts are all set and paid…” he looked down at me. “Are you staying with her?” he asked Erica. “No…?” She said hesitantly, “I’m just their ride?” He sighed, “Okay, I have one Tweener apartment where Doctor Owens can be situated here. I don’t have anything in Little sizes right now, though.” “Can’t you just rent her a Tweener apartment too?” He shook his head, “Our insurance company doesn’t allow it.” “What about a regular apartment?” I asked, not liking the feeling I was getting. “No can do, Doctor. Sorry, Emerson will have to help you find a different apartment.” “Can she stay with me?” Matt asked, trying to be helpful. “Sorry, you’re in a one-bedroom, and we don’t allow non-married couples like that due to some past issues with nasty breakups.” “Let me get you your key, and I’ll have someone guide you to your apartment,” he told Matt. Meanwhile, I found myself standing there lost. Erica suddenly came down to my level, got on her knees, and gave me an unexpected hug. “We’ll get this figured out, Katherine. I can’t believe they weren’t prepared for you to be a Little!” “Umm… how hard is it to get another apartment in Little sizes?” I asked. She said, “Give me a minute; let me call the person responsible for the exchange program. “ I watched her do something and realized she was talking over some device I couldn’t see. “Yes, this is Erica Daniels… Yes, we got to the apartment; we’re having a problem, though… Can you get her something else…?” I stood like a spare part for several minutes as her face went despondent. “No, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to stay with her students in their dorm…” I felt my blood chill thinking of them trying to make me wear that hideous uniform… or worse yet…? “Okay, please do let me know.” She looked down at me with a pitying look. “Umm… look, I know this may be awkward since we’re going to be working with each other, but I do have a guest bedroom at my house. You’d be welcome to stay there?” “I couldn’t possibly put you out like that…” I objected. “It’s no problem; I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend… so my house is kind of a waste of space?” I looked up at the useless apartment manager staring at me. “I guess I don’t have any other option right now. I should work at least until Emerson can sort this out.” “Great!” she told me. “Would you please let Matthew know I’ll be back to pick him up in an hour to go to the luncheon?” “He should be able to take a university-provided Bruber. I’ll show him how the system works,” the manager said. “Great! Well, we’ll go drop off Doctor Benson’s things then.” “Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” he told me. A short while later, I was again strapped into the embarrassing seat, and we were driving on the road. “This’ll work out better anyway, Katie!” she told me. “We can just carpool into the hospital each day this way!” ‘I hate that name. My name is Katherine,’ I grumbled inside my head. It’s hard to be rude about it, though, given that she’s helping me out.’ “Great,” I said with forced enthusiasm. Fortunately, I wasn’t strapped in too much longer as I was beginning to need to hit the restroom rather desperately. I mentally cursed myself for not asking to go after the meeting! Erica pulled into a garage and came to release me even as the door closed to the outside. Once we were inside her kitchen, she started to show me the downstairs rooms. When we came to a bathroom beside the kitchen, I asked, “Do you mind if I use this restroom?” “Umm… Sweetie, you probably want to use the upstairs hallway bathroom instead.” “Why?” I asked, even as I looked at the enormous toilet before me. “Umm… how do…?” “You get on?” she asked. “It’s going to be tough with that one. I have a step and a potty seat for my nieces and nephew upstairs, though.” I felt my blood drain even as I left my suitcases for the moment downstairs and climbed up the staircase. By the time I was shown the guest bathroom, I didn’t care about the indignities of using a toddler step and potty seat; I was desperate to pee! My panties were a bit damp as I pulled them back up, and I nervously considered the rules that had been shared with the students in our meeting! Fortunately, as I pulled my pants up, washed my hands with the aid of a step stool, and looked in the mirror, I couldn’t see any outward signs of my struggles. Erica was waiting right outside the door, “Everything okay?” “Yes, I just should have gone after our meeting. I figured I’d be at my apartment by now, though?” She nodded, “I get that.” She looked at her watch, “I think we need to get going if we’re going to get you back in time for that welcome luncheon. Why don’t you just leave your bags down here, and we’ll look at everything when we get back?” I blushed. “That’s probably a good idea. I thought I would bring some smaller sizes, but I don’t know if I brought anything small enough.” “From what I have heard, things don’t necessarily size down the way you expect all the time either,” she told me. “Okay,” I said. I grabbed what had been a small purse inside my backpack and realized what Erica had said. Before I left, the small purse had been barely big enough for my cell phone, wallet, makeup, and a couple tampons. Now, it was practically the large purse my mom carried around! My backpack itself hadn’t exploded in size, but the purse inside had behaved oddly. ‘I hope I have any clothes that fit…?’ I worried as I followed Erica back out to the car and was buckled back into the embarrassing car seat. “Why do you have two seats in here?” I asked her. “That seat is for my niece and the other one works for her brothers and cousin when needed.” “Oh,” I said. “I never kept more than a booster in my car for mine.” “You have nieces and nephews?” she asked me as she closed the driver’s door and instructed the car to drive us back to campus. “Yeah…” We had a conversation about our families then, and it was nice to connect with this friendly giant on that level. Her size intimidated the hell out of me, but she was quite gentle. The drive back to the university didn’t take that long, so we were soon navigating the buildings, and she led me to where the luncheon was being held. “I’ll come find you in about an hour?” She suggested. “That’s probably long enough?” I suggested. “You could probably come join me as a guest?” She shook her head, “I’m going to head to the bookstore while I’m here for a couple things. I’ll catch you in a bit!” I walked through the enormous doors to enter the banquet hall where the reception was held. I immediately saw Matt. “Hey,” I told him, “You made it here, okay?” “Yeah, they set up this cool autonomous ride-sharing system called Bruber for us while we’re here. You should have it too, but I don’t know what happened to the package you would have had waiting for you in your apartment, along with a university-provided phone?” I was about to ask more about that when the tall Dean from earlier said, “Good afternoon; good to see you made it back here! We’re putting all the faculty up at the head table there, if you want to take a seat?” I looked ahead and was sure if the table hadn’t been on a stage, I’d never have seen it over the tables and people in front of me! I noted two tables with a lectern and a university seal in the middle. Matt and I made our way to the table, and I found myself staring at a chair that was way too tall for my now-shortened frame. “One second, ma’am,” a uniformed staff member said then. I looked up at him and saw him holding a child booster seat that he strapped to the chair. Here, let me give you a hand.” Without warning, he unceremoniously picked me up, sat me on the booster seat, and pushed me towards the table. Matt looked at me with a bit of amusement and concern. “Guess I didn’t think through what it would be like if you shrunk that much,” he said. “The car seat earlier was bad, too,” I told him. “I can’t believe that at my new height of eight feet, I have to sit on a booster!” “I know,” I said to him. Before I could speak more with him, a tall gentleman approached us. “Hi, I’m Ryan Barnes. I’m the university president here…” We spoke for just a couple of minutes as he welcomed us. Someone signaled him, though, and he stepped between the two head tables to the lectern. “Good afternoon! It’s so great to have all of you here! My name is Doctor Ryan Barnes, and I have the pleasure of serving as the President of Emerson University! The university and I are so excited to have you join us on your exchange visits! In total, we have four sets of exchange students from four different dimensions this spring, and we’re excited for you to learn about us and for us to learn more about you all! During your stay, please don’t hesitate to contact my office for assistance if you need it! We want you to be successful and take home your knowledge and new experiences to benefit our societies!” I tuned out a good chunk of the speech beyond waving when I was introduced. I looked at the small sea of students and noted that most seemed to be in that ‘Little’ height. The few taller students mainly looked like the Nest Mothers we’d been introduced to at the Little’s meeting. I was personally astounded by just how large the portions of food were! I ordered the chicken dish and was sure the ‘chicken breast’ they’d placed on my plate was bigger than any turkey breast I’d ever made back home! Dean Northrup ended up beside me, and I asked, “How big are your chickens?” She laughed, “That question often comes up at these first meals with our guests!” Conversations were what I expected at events like this. Similar to any donor luncheons or occasional faculty dinners I was pulled to for the medical school. There was suddenly a disturbance in the room that surprised me. I recognized one of our students, Noah, who seemed to be in the middle of it. “I can’t… I’m full.” “Come on, take a bite for me, sweetie,” a voice said like an impatient parent trying to get their toddler to eat. I saw a Big holding a fork to his mouth. “No, I don’t want to.” “You need to eat your vegetables, hon,” she told him as if he wasn’t even two. I wasn’t sure what happened next, but suddenly an object flew towards us at our table! I recognized a fork and a piece of carrot landing on the ground before us. “Shit, I said leave me alone!” Beside me, I heard, “Miss Anderson, would you mind escorting that young man to my office and waiting for me there? We’ll ensure someone else helps guide your Littles to the next event?” “Certainly, Dean Northrup,” the tall girl said as she suddenly picked up the struggling Noah and threw him over her shoulder. “May I ask what’s to happen with him?” I heard Matt ask. “We’ll apply the code of conduct with him. He may not be remaining here, unfortunately, though.” I felt queasy at the way that was stated, but since chocolate was my weakness, I couldn’t help but eat ten bites of the dessert. I knew I would regret it later! I noted that Dean Northrup and Matt ended up with a different-colored dessert plate than I did. Theirs were larger portions, too, so I put it out of my mind. As everyone broke up the meal, I watched most students get led in lines like young school children out of the room and back, and I assumed their dorms. “Did you get settled at Erica’s?” Matt asked me. I turned to him, “We didn’t have much time for that by the time we made it there. I left my stuff there, used the bathroom, and we had to return.” I paused, “How was the apartment?” “I know they said it’s sized smaller, but I still have to use step stools to reach anything. It’s like being eight or nine years old again,” Matt told me. I thought aloud, “Wonder what age that would make me?” Erica showed up before we could talk more, “All done?” she asked me. “Yes, I guess we should head back to your place so I can see what fits.” “Sounds like a plan,” she told me. “See you sometime soon, Matt!” I told him. “Same!” With that, Erica led me back to her car and helped me get inside it again. “Well, Katie, shall I give you the grand tour, and you can unpack your bags now?” “Great!” I said. “Well, obviously, this is my kitchen, as you saw earlier,” she said, waving her hands around. “I don’t honestly use it all that much. I tend to use my AmeniTea more anymore since it’s just me.” “AmeniTea?” I asked. “Oh, I know you don’t have them back home. It’s basically like a self-contained restaurant. You tell it what you want, and it makes a complete meal from scratch for you in just a short time.” “Really? Just like a few things?” She shrugged, “I’ve yet to think of something it either can’t make or can’t make without a refill of some other ingredient pack.” “Huh, that’s cool,” I said as she pointed to a device high on a counter that I couldn’t see. As she gave me the kitchen tour, I noted that there was a table that my head didn’t even reach the top of. ‘I could stand up underneath it and not hit my head,’ I thought. She showed me the living room with its enormous furniture and a holoscreen she turned on briefly, to my astonishment. I noted there was a playpen folded up in the corner. She noticed my gaze, “I have a couple young nieces and a nephew who I watch during some of my off days,” she smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet them since you’re staying with me!” “That sounds lovely,” I told her. I couldn’t help but note that, just like the infant car seat I’d been strapped inside, that playpen would probably effectively cage me like an infant when it was set up! She showed me a small office she had downstairs and then led me back upstairs while carrying my bags for me. “To the left is my room,” she told me before leading me past a room in the middle of the hallway, just past the bathroom I had used and down to the end. And this will be yours,” she smiled as she opened the door. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like Button and leave me a comment!!! I really appreciate that there was over a full page of comments after the first post! 💜 Things will be pretty uneven on posting dates/times for the next week and a half. I'll be out of the country with no privacy/internet the next week of Christmas. Once that's done with though I should be able to get you to a regular posting schedule! This week you'll get your next post on Wednesday. Not sure if it'll be before I go to work or after. Thanks for all of your support! I really hope you enjoy this tale! 🙂

Moncton here

Patty gently stood kit up and took him by the hand leading him upstairs to the bathroom . Patty had mixed feelings on the hand she felt bad for ignoring her sons pleadings and reducing him to such an infantile state but on the other hand she had to admit she missed those times he needed her so much . Kit was still sniffling as he was walking up the stairs . He couldn't believe what just happened , he had woken up in a wet bed more often these days but never had he wet his pants during the day wide awake . But technically he didn't wet his pants ... He shot a few glances and saw them completely dry. The diaper however felt even bulkier than before making him waddle more . The sense of relief from his aching bladder didn't last long as he entered they bathroom and he was forced to realize he was not going to be left to simply get on with it. - okay sweetie let's get you undressed and into the nice bath - Patty smiled at him encourageadly as she slowly started to take his clothes off - oh ! Looks like someone made lot of pee pees in his diapie , no wonder you are cranky , let mommy get you out of this wet diapie kit felt his heart sink he hoped to at least be able to quickly get rid of any evidence of his accident without everyone knowing , of course he wasn't away his parents knew even before he did , now his mom was making embarrassing comments out loud. once he was lifted into the bath he felt slightly better as the bubbles hid his most private parts even though there were toys scattered in the water that he hadn't played with in years . He wasn't in a mood to play when his parents offered him a toy . - I think the poor little thing is really tired , let's just get him ready - Patty said to Chris - I can bathe myself - kit tried to object but once again as if his voice wasn't heard at all . Patty put on a bathing glove and started washing him throughly as she used to when he was little. From head to toe even his hair and to his biggest embarrassment as he was stood up Patty gently but efficially pulled back his foreskin and cleaned all around his sensitive area making him try to squirm away and almost slip . - you hit him Chris ? - Patty asked as Chris steadied kit as she continued to wash and rinse his privates - yeah I know honey it feels strange when mommy cleans your willie but we have to make sure you are all clean after he was lifted out he was wrapped in a giant fluffy towel while they dried his hair and helped him brush his teeth. Chris easily lifted him and carried him to his room. Only it didn't look like the room he usually slept in... It was a pale blue room painted with white sheep and clouds . As kit quickly glanced around he realized that not only the color and decorations changed but the forniture too ... Besides the closet that was also animal printed was a new dresser on top of which layed a mattres . On the other side there was an ordinary looking bed till you took a closer look : the head and back of the bed were pushed against the wall covered with soft padding as of to avoid any injury in case a child might bang himself into it , the sides not covered by the wall had rails that you could put on the bed to make sure a child wouldn't roll off . Next it a rocking chair ... as Chris layed him on the mattress on top of the dresser and kit instinctivly looked around he realized it was no dresser but a changing table ! It had holders for diapers creams and other things he couldn't even make out, before he could gather his senses and try to object , though it seemed pointless as his parents seemed like they don't even hear it , the fluffy towel was removed leaving him again completely naked laying on the changing mat. Chris and Patty assumed their usual positions , Chris by kits head making sure his hands won't be in the way and when he was protesting or tried to skipped a pacifier into his mouth, while Patty was at his feet bending his legs to his chest , making him horribly aware that he was helplessly exposed and to add to that as his legs pushed on his tummy he felt that though his bladder was empty his bowels were not , adding to his already uncomfortable situation . Patty though hasn't had to change diapers in the past years did still have the skills of a trained mother so after rubbing a good measure of antirash cream all over and even going a bit further and using baby lotion on most of his body kits diaper was fastened and Patty began to work on his sleeper . - there now you are all good to go to beddy bye all snug in your comfy diapie and pj it was of course no ordinary sleeper but one designed to make sure "little hands " could not remove it , kit was taken by surprise as he was stood up on the carpet and his mom quickly pulled up the zipper on the back and fastening it into the lock . - okay baby mommy is gonna get you a nice drinkie while daddy tucks you up in bed patty already had the milk mixed with the medicines ready she quickly warmed it in the kitchen and returned to the nursery . she gently propped kit up laying his head on her lap as Chris opened a story book and started to read out loud . kit was trying to remember the last time it was just the 3 of them and especially the last time he was cuddled and was read a story to but he was not happy as Patty coaxed another rubbery nipple into his mouth he realized it wasn't a pacifier as warm sweet milk started drinking into his mouth he pushed it away several times even kicking Chris with his legs but eventually Patty kept trying to get him to drink "his nice warm milky " and eventually managed to to get most of bottle into him . Eventually they both kissed him good night pulled up the protective rails and put his pacifier back into his mouth , which he spit out immidiatly , as they turned on the night light and slowly backed out if the room . kit wasn't sure what he was feeling , angry ? Scared ? Frustrated ? He set up trying to make a plan of what to do now as he was finally alone , he tried to get his sleeper off in vain then looking around trying to find something to aid until he spotted the baby monitor , the type that didn't just had a microphone but a camera too ... So his parents might have left the room but he was sure they were watching his every move . Evetually he tried to settle down to sleep , he wasn't sure what the time was but he sensed it was still quite early definetly not his usual bed time. After much turning and trashing he did fall asleep . He woke up to gentle rubbing of his tummy and chest as he slowly opened his eyes he saw his mom smiling down at him - did my sleepy boy have nice dreams hm ? Yeah ? Come on let's get you up Patty lowered the rails and untucked kit allowing him to slip out of the bed . He looked at the bed and felt proud as it was dry ! He didn't wet his bed ! Of course his joy was short lived as Chris entered the room ruffled his hair and went to open the blinds while Patty removed his sleeper uncovering his soaked diaper . - oh little boy had lots of pee pee during the night didn't he ? Yeah your diapie is soaked with pee pee come on baby boy lets get you changed for the day , you are such a good boy aren't you ! And you like pacie don't you sweetie ? Only then kit realized that his pacifier was in his mouth . He didn't even remember putting it back into his mouth after spitting it out

After they left the hospital Patty and Chris spent days thinking and planning . Asking kits pediactrian for her insight , who surprisingly took Kate's side and encouraged them to try . Chris was less convinced but pattys maternal guilt of not properly protecting their child and possibly getting a second chance do make things right got to Chris too . So with heavy hearts they eventually decided to leave the company up to their vices and take a few weeks off to travel to their vacation cabin near the lake . It seemed the perfect choice as it was quite far and isolated . Izzy would spend those weeks with her similar aged cousins unaware of her parents spending those weeks with her brother . - okay so you guys are ready to do this ? - Kate asked in a quite chirpy mood . - you said you made a guide book ? - Patty ask trying to seem calm and collected - well more like a to do and not to do list : for instance : by no means make him feel like it's a punishment or that you are disappointed in him , lots of praising , set bed time , you are incharge in making rules and following them . - she looked at the unconvincingly concerned - you have to be on the same page and show a united front ! That's very important . He has to know you are doing this for him ot because of him . You can't half heart this . - we won't . - Chris said with a somber expression - okay then one last thing I want to talk about before we talk to kit . About his tioleting issues , we have noticed that especially regarding his withholding . It's clear it's an unresolved issue since his early childhood. He seems to be generally avoiding using the tiolet unless he is alone wurh no one near by, and if he can't pass stool he won't come to us and that's the same for you based on his pediactrian . So what I would like to emphasize here is that beyond all else we are also trying to resolve these issues . So what I would like you to do are the following : don't treat him using his diaper as a bad deed, don't forget he will be fighting years of being told to do his bussiness in a potty or in a toilet , praise him when he uses his diaper . He will likely feel awkward and confused at first . Second he will instinctivly will either try to withhold or hide to pass his bowel movements . So as he is in a toddler state you must never leave him alone , I also suggest based on his history of withholding to make sure he won't have the possibility to hide when he uses his diaper . You must be very very patient with him . I know it will be testing but it's crucial . And of course never let him take the diaper off but I gave you a few tips on that . Patty took a deep breath - okay , let's do this then the sooner the better right ? - yes indeed as they all stood up Kate added - oh and I just want to make sure from now on you as well as him only use terms you would use with a toddler such as mummy daddy poopie diapie etc . I will go get kit kit seemed utterly confused by the suggested plan of him going up to their cabin with his parents so he could be away from everything for a little while and carefree - you won't have to worry about anything sweetie mommy and daddy will be there to take of everything . Kit seemed skeptical that he could enjoy the summer in the cabin when he was told it would include him wearing diapers. Diapers were for babies. And though 1 part of him was desprate to have some time with his parents he still wasn't sure this wasn't some sort of punishment for failing. - for how long would we go up there ? - he gazed at his parents with a quizzical look -for a few weeks honey - the vague answer didn't really calm him , especially as he would have to wear a diaper. Starting now . - but why do I have to wear a diaper it's for babies I m not a baby - his voice was near a whine - sweetie .. Like we .. Like mommy and daddy said you had quite a few accidents lately so we want we think this is for the best right now ok ? - Patty repeated again gently ruffling kits hair - come on sweetie let's get you ready to go you will have lots of fun I promise kit wasn't as sure but he let his mom take him by the hand and follow Kate to another room where they usually examined patients. His lifted him up to the table and before he could protest his mom started undressing him just like a small child. He felt himself going red as his underpants were pulled off , and instinctivly wanted to cover himself with his hands but as if Chris had anticipated that move he gently but firmly held his hands out of the way of Patty lifting his legs and bending them in 1 move pushing them up to his chest . - mooommmm - kits uttered whine was cut short as Patty used her free hand to quickly push something into his mouth a pacifier ! His eyes widened as he realized that in just the matter of a few seconds Chris shifted the hold he had on his hands to 1 hand and held the pacifier in his mouth as his mom was quickly spreading some cream over his bottom and his front . He wanted to spit out the pacifier and make it all stop but somehow he felt paralyzed . Patty quickly taped a diaper around him , as he noticed suddenly there was a whole blue bag stuffed with diapers creams and other things he couldn't even make out. As he was dressed in a shirt with cartoon figures and a romper - well done honey you were such a good boy for mommy - petty cooed at him . He being praised for what a good boy he was . It didn't feel like that to him , it felt strange to sit up on the bed with a thick padding between his legs and a pacifier in his mouth it felt all wrong he tried to take the pacifier out of his mouth with his now free hands but it was quickly placed back by his mom - no no honey keep being a good boy and keep your pacie nicely in your mouth ok baby ? Kit felt himself blush even more , not just that he was now dressed like a toddler addressed by words he haven't heard in close to a decade , it all happened infront of Kate who stood at behind his parents .