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  1. Chapter 15: A Hard Pill to Swallow I stumbled through the front door after being dropped off by the bus on Thursday afternoon. I let my backpack fall to the floor with a loud bang as soon as I had shut the front door behind me. I was exhausted. It had been another seven hours of struggling to stay awake and focused through what had seemed to be an endless day of end-of-year exams. The only relief was that I was finished with taking my last test for this school year. Now I had about a week of bliss before my end-of-year grades became available online. Yes, I still had to go into school tomorrow, but that was just to wrap things up, clean out lockers, and have end-of-year pizza parties. I’d be free from homework, studying, tests, and early morning bus rides for the next three months. Now, all I wanted to do was sleep. Grace wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But I knew my older sister was home because the minivan she drove had been in the driveway when the school bus had dropped me off. I didn’t get what she did while she was shut away in her room all the time. I took advantage of her absence to drink a glass of water in the kitchen. But with my recently discovered sports water bottle – tucked away in the deepest recesses of the bottom drawer of my dresser – sneaking around to stay hydrated enough to make myself wet the bed wasn’t going to be an issue ever again. Angie and Emma had grilled me about the sleepover again during the ride home from school. That was annoying because I’d already told them yesterday that Mom had said she needed to think about the proposed all-nighter on my birthday a little over a week from now. I was hoping to get an answer about that from her tonight. Neither of my friends were coming over after school. Angie was busy tonight with preparations for the vacation her family was heading out for as soon as school was out tomorrow. I would have had Emma over this evening, except that she had somewhere to be with her family. I quickly cleaned the glass I’d gotten a drink from and then dried it off before putting it back in the sink, leaving no evidence behind. Once in the living room, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. <><><> I woke up to Grace furiously shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up. She was standing over me with a panicked look on her face. “Leave me alone,” I mumbled, rolling over to not be facing my sister. “I was just taking a nap.” “What in the world are you thinking?” Grace said, her voice sounding rather agitated. “What do you think? I was taking a nap ’cause I was tired.” “And how do you think Mom would feel about you peeing all over the couch? That’s a lot harder to clean up than your mattress?” I turned back over to look up at Grace. “I wouldn’t do that during a nap.” “Well, that’s what I thought once, too. Just go to your bedroom if you want to sleep.” I yawned and looked at my phone. It was about twenty minutes since I had arrived home from school, but I felt a lot better even after that quick nap. “I think I’m fine, now.” That did raise another interesting question. Was it common for bedwetters to have accidents if they fell asleep for a brief nap during the day? And then there was another thought, one I would have to consider later. If being a bedwetter meant sometimes having an accident during a nap, that could create an excuse for me to experiment with peeing my pants more during the day. “Actually, since you are awake,” Grace said. “You should probably get the cat litter taken care of before Mom gets home. It was really stinky when I was putting clothes in the washing machine before you got home. And you can get your laundry out of the dryer while you're down there because I’m going to need to use it soon for my stuff.” It didn’t matter that Grace was saving me a potential lecture from my parents about not doing my chores. It still was annoying that she was telling me to do it. I stomped noisily down the stairs on the way to the basement. This evening couldn’t come quickly enough. <><><> Mom had apparently talked through the proposal for the all-nighter with Dad, and neither of them was enthusiastic about it. “It’s simply too risky, Maddy,” Mom said. She was sitting next to Dad on the couch. It was just me and my parents in the living room. Jackson was playing with Legos in his bedroom. Grace was off in the kitchen with her after-dinner chore of washing the dishes. “What if you fall asleep on the couch or on the floor by accident? I’m sure you don’t want to have a bedwetting accident around your friends.” I tried to get them to see my side, to no avail. “But that is why we’ll have a bunch of energy drinks. There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep.” “Maddy,” Dad said. “I don’t think you realize how much more caffeine is in those drinks. Even one drink could have four to five times as much caffeine as a can of pop.” “What’s this about energy drinks?” Grace asked as she walked into the living room. There was a splatter of wet spots across her shirt from when she had been washing dishes. “Maddy wants to do an all-nighter for a sleepover on her birthday to avoid the issues she’s been having at night. I was explaining that having a bunch of energy to stay awake the whole night isn’t going to be a good idea.” “There is absolutely no way I would want to deal with three girls all drugged up on caffeine and who knows what else in energy drinks,” Grace said. “Seriously, Maddy. You get shakes just when you have more than one glass of Mountain Dew.” “But,” I said, trying to protest. “It’s not going to work,” Mom said. “An all-nighter is simply not a good idea.” But this left me in a bind. If I couldn’t have a sleepover, what was I supposed to say to my friends? “But I can’t tell Angie and Emma that I can’t do any more sleepovers.” “I don’t think you’ll have to,” Mom said. “There’s something else we can do – something we did with your sister – to make it so you can have a sleepover, so long as it is a normal one without energy drinks.” Pull-ups. Please let it be pull-ups. Perhaps the advertisement in the magazine had been enough to remind Mom of what she may have done for my sister. “Guys,” Grace whined. “Do you have to keep mentioning my own bedwetting?” “It’s just to help your sister out,” Dad said. “We learned a lot about how to handle it with you, so of course, we’re going to try some of the same things with your sister.” “When your sister was around ten years old,” Mom said, “our pediatrician, Dr. Mathorn, recommended trying a pill that would make it so she wouldn’t wet the bed, and it worked quite well.” Seriously? It was as though my parents were doing everything possible to avoid the solution that seemed most obvious to me. But why did it take so long to get Grace the solution that apparently solved all her problems? “Why didn’t she have Grace take those pills earlier?” “I think she said it wasn’t as effective with younger kids and that bedwetting was fairly normal for younger, elementary-age kids, so there wasn’t any need to be concerned about it. We had Grace take the pill whenever she wasn’t going to be at home. It was very effective, so long as she also made sure to limit fluid intake and use the toilet before bed.” Grace groaned softly off to the side. Her hands were covering her face. Obviously, this wasn’t a memory she wanted to be forced to re-live in front of her younger sister. Mom continued her explanation. “Even after her bedwetting phased out, we will had her take the pill for sleepovers for the next couple of years, just as an insurance measure. We still have some, so we figured we’d have you try them the next few nights. Assuming they work as well for you as they did for Grace, then you’ll be able to have the sleepover without any issues. “You really kept those pills?” Grace asked incredulously. “I mean, it wasn’t really intentional. We didn’t think it was likely you’d need them again. They just got tucked away at the back of the medicine cabinet and were forgotten about. It’s probably about time to take them tonight. I’m going to go grab them now.” Mom left to get the pills. Dad excused himself to go off and get Jackson started on his own bedtime routine, leaving me alone with Grace for the moment. My older sister still looked a little irked that Mom had kept her bedwetting medication long after that issue had stopped. For all the ways my parents had allowed my older sister to be independent, bedwetting hadn’t been one of them, not when she had also been forced to continue to sleep on the waterproof mattress until a couple of nights ago. I turned to Grace. “Was there a reason you didn’t take the pills every night?” “I never slept well, and I often had really bad headaches afterward for the next day. It made school impossible.” “Is that supposed to make me want to take them?” “I mean, they do work. I never wet the bed once after taking them. And a terrible headache in the morning beats being known as the girl who still wets the bed at school. But there wasn’t any way I was going to take them every night; that would have been way too much.” “But, like, how does it work?” “I’m trying to remember exactly how the doctor put it,” Grace said. “Basically, it makes it so your body doesn’t produce as much urine while you sleep so that your bladder doesn’t fill up so quickly and make you need to pee.” This revelation about the bedwetting pills was another nail in the coffin to the idea that my older sister had ever worn pull-ups to manage her nighttime condition. I was fairly certain at this point that Grace had never worn pull-ups at home, not with how frequently the laundry was being done when she had been a bedwetter. And the pills meant that she wouldn’t have needed a pull-up any time she had been sleeping overnight somewhere else after she had turned ten. Still, if she had started using the pills around when she was ten, there would have been a time before that when her bedwetting would have to have been managed somehow when she wasn’t at home. I tried to think back to the trips we had taken, but I would have been a baby for nearly all of them, so I didn’t have the slightest recollection of what would have happened with my sister’s bedwetting. Had pull-ups perhaps been used only for those occasions? Or had we picked places to stay that had given my parents the ability to do the necessary amount of extra laundry that would have been required? I’d held off on asking further questions about my sister’s bedwetting because I hadn’t been able to think of a way to ask about pull-ups that would work. I couldn’t have her thinking that I was at all interested in wearing them. But this new revelation gave me an opening to ask a question that could lead to the same answer without revealing exactly what information I was seeking. “So, like, what did you do on trips before you had the bedwetting pills?” I felt quite proud of myself for how sneakily discreet the question was. Without even mentioning pull-ups, there was the possibility that she could give an answer on the subject. “Why does it matter?” “I don’t know. I just realized that I’d never noticed you wet the bed before.” Grace glared at me. Before my sister could say anything further, Mom arrived and answered the question for her. “Oh, we used a special, disposable, absorbent bedwetting pad on top of the mattress.” “Mom, did you have to tell her that?” “What? We’ve already discussed other stuff from your bedwetting.” “It sucked,” Grace said. “It was like sleeping on a massive puppy pee pad. It crinkled worse than my mattress. I could hardly sleep.” “Well, it did at least keep the bed dry while we were at hotels or staying with relatives,” Mom said. “Though it would have been pretty wasteful to use it at home when we had the ability to just toss everything in the washing machine easily.” I finally noticed that Mom was holding a glass with a couple of ounces of water in it. “We should give the pill a try tonight. We need to know if it is going to work before we can OK the sleepover,” Mom said. “Are you sure it is fine to use without talking to a doctor?” Grace asked. “Of course not,” Mom said. “I gave Dr. Mathorn a call this morning, and she gave the OK to have Maddy try the pills this weekend, and depending on how that goes, we can figure out the next steps during her appointment on Monday.” Mom had already signed me up to go to the doctor? My brain started to get fuzzy at the thought of being poked and prodded in an uncannily sterile room. “But… but…” “Dr. Mathorn helped us a bunch with your sister’s bedwetting. It’s not as though she is unfamiliar with the topic.” Mom handed me the pill and the glass of water. “I know you don’t like taking pills. But this one is nice and small, so let’s just get it over with.” I recalled that if I had been an actual bedwetter, I would have been eager about this new solution. I forced what I thought was a natural happy face as I tucked the pill under my tongue and rinsed it down with a swig of water. This was going to be a major problem. “And this is really important, Maddy,” Mom said. “Grace’s doctor was very clear that once the pill is taken right away before bed, you aren’t to have any liquids until the morning. He said that is necessary to avoid some other harmful side effects.” That sucked. I had only gotten half of the way through my water bottle full of disgusting tap water tonight. And the way Mom had phrased this request made it clear that disobeying it would be unwise. I assured Mom that I would avoid drinking any more water and excused myself to head back to my bedroom. I needed time to think through what I was supposed to do next. There were a number of things that I wanted. I wanted pull-ups to wear. I wanted to continue peeing myself. I wanted my parents to think I was a bedwetter. I wanted to have the sleepover with my friends. I wanted to keep the bedwetting a secret from them. I wanted Mom to think that the new bedwetting pills she was giving me were ineffective. I couldn’t think of a path forward that would allow me to accomplish all of that. There was no way I could stop wetting the bed, even temporarily, not when that would convince Mom that the pills were the solution to that problem. But if the bedwetting continued, there wasn’t any way Mom and Dad would sign off on a sleepover. Succeeding in convincing them that I was a bedwetter would only result in them stopping sleepovers unless I could somehow get them to consider pull-ups as a solution. At least with the latest information about my sister’s bedwetting, I was able to understand how she had avoided being made to wear pull-ups. My parents had found a way to handle her nighttime condition in a way that mostly worked without needing disposable undergarments, though in my opinion a pull-up would have worked better than a disposable, absorbent sheet on top of a mattress. Did they not know pull-ups were an option? Had Grace simply outright refused to wear them? Or perhaps they just considered it too expensive or wasteful compared to washing sheets every night? But the exact reason didn’t really seem to matter. What seemed clear to me was that there was no way my parents were going to get me pull-ups of their own volition. I realized now that unless something changed before the sleepover, I was going to need to do the unthinkable. I was going to have to directly ask my parents to purchase pull-ups for me. <><><> A few hours later, I found myself lying awake under the covers. I’d gotten better at staying up past my parents’ bedtime without feeling tired. I had been trying to pee for the past thirty minutes, but it was no use. I didn’t have the slightest urge to urinate. That little pill had worked extremely well. I should have at least felt a decent need to pee at this point, as I’d managed to drink half the bottle before Mom had instructed me very sternly to not have any more water. It was so not fair. The only thing that cheered me up was that it shouldn’t take more than three or four days to convince Mom that these pills weren’t worth the effort. I set an early alarm on my phone, putting in a single earbud so that I’d be the only person to hear the alarm in the morning. No matter how good the pill was, I’d surely have a need to pee in another six hours. I would let Mom wake me up to discover a wet bed again. And in a few days, with every other solution having failed, perhaps it would be possible to convince them that pull-ups were a palatable option. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/
    5 points
  2. Chapter Six Michelle felt giddy as she waited on the step of the brownstone apartment building. She hadn’t allowed herself to believe that this plan would really work, let alone that she’d have Jamie in her arms in just a few days, but now–suddenly–it seemed possible. He’d asked her for a diaper change. Jamie had asked her for a diaper change. Maybe she’d been a bit too hasty, all but admitting she’d followed him home and had been waiting in hopes that he’d call her for that very reason, but she couldn’t wait. She needed to see– Jamie opened the door, and something inside Michelle melted. He was just so…adorable. Helpless. Wonderful. Perfect. He stood in the doorway, legs splayed more deliberately than when it’d just been a crinkly pull-up between them. He carried the faintest odor of stale pee, but that didn’t matter, she knew even without being told: Jamie had the awkward waddle of a Little with an over-soaked diaper, one who knew they’d leak if they weren’t careful about managing the squelch between their thighs. His face, though, was what made her heart soar. Big brown eyes pleading, afraid, in need of a strong, caring hand to come tell him everything would be okay. His hair fell around his shoulders, and he’d begun twirling a strand around his index finger, shyly avoiding eye contact. “Let’s get you home,” Michelle said, offering him her hand. “Okay? I’ve got diapers for you there.” He nodded shyly, hand drifting up to his mouth, then he caught himself. Reaching into the pocket of his shortalls, he took out the pink pacifier she’d planted there and plopped it between his lips, suckling with a little more confidence. (Oh, hell,) Michelle thought, feeling her own panties get wet–but not for any lack of potty training. (I need this boy.) Helping Jamie into the passenger seat–she wasn’t quite ready to get an adult booster for the back yet, he might realize that was wrong–she leaned over, buckling him in. Impulsively, she gave him a little peck on the forehead before pulling away, leaving a tiny lipstick mark above his eyebrows. “You did the right thing by asking me for help,” she promised him, looking Jamie in the eyes. “I’m proud of you.” He looked like he might start to sniffle and cry, but Jamie just squirmed and nodded, clearly uncomfortable with how his diaper felt when it squelched beneath his weight. They’d need to fix that–Michelle wanted him to know that used diapers were a good thing, that they were a chance for Mommy to take care of him. No more negative associations, just happy thoughts. Then again, as she leaned over him, she caught a faint whiff of sex, a chlorine odor that told her Jamie had already enjoyed a few happy thoughts in his diaper. He was further along than she’d ever imagined. Walking around her car, she got in and began to drive. She felt every red light, every stop sign–she yearned to get him home, and every second that kept her away from the Little boy she’d claimed as hers was infuriating. When she got to her space in the parking garage, she all but dragged Jamie out of his seat, fingers lacing around one of the straps of his shortalls. (I should get a lead for him,) she thought, passion driving her as she led the waddling young man to the elevator. This time, as she prepared to take him up to her floor, she got her wish. One of her neighbors waited in the chamber full of elevator doors, and when Michelle walked in, the older woman glanced over at her. “Good afternoon, Michelle,” the neighbor said, her eyes sizing Jamie up. “Who’s your…friend?” Jamie shuffled his feet, looking down at his shoes and avoiding eye contact. “Don’t mind him,” Michelle said, brimming with joy as she quietly called attention to Jamie. “He’s just shy because he…well, he needs my help a little.” She pulled him a little closer, protective, and Jamie reached out with his hand, fingers lacing with hers. He wanted to hold her hand! Michelle had to stifle a squeal of joy as she got onto the elevator with him, riding up to their floor with the older neighbor. Michelle didn’t even say goodbye, too focused on her goal, leading Jamie by the hand to her apartment. The door opened, and shut, and they were alone together. She couldn’t wait any more. Turning to face him, Michelle let her passions out, lifting Jamie’s hand in hers and pinning it against the wall and over his head. She used her other hand to grope the front of his shortalls, feeling his diaper squish beneath her fingertips, feeling him grow hard beneath the soggy padding and layers of fabric. “You were such a good boy,” she said, face moving up to his. “Remembering to use your diapers, remembering to call me for help–but is that all you wanted my help with?” Jamie trembled at her touch, and he shook his head, the handle on his pacifier rattling. She felt his hips move, pressing himself into her hand harder, succumbing to her advances. Leaning in, Michelle kissed the front of Jamie’s pacifier, then she reached up and fished the crook of her finger under its handle, pulling it free so she could kiss him on the lips. Their bodies were warm and desperate, each of them trembling together with anticipation and need. “Will you let me take care of you?” Michelle asked, whispering against his lips. All this boy had to do was ask, and she’d do anything to keep him. He nodded. “Yes–please.” Michelle didn’t know what exactly he thought of all this–whether her hex had left him confused, whether he was eager for any sex regardless of context, or if her wishes had come true and he’d already begun to feel the link between her care, his diapers, and fundamental pleasure, but for now, none of that mattered. She’d waited long enough, and she knew she had him. Now it was time to play with her Little boy. ... Support is just a couple bucks a month to get early access to all my writing - which, at the moment, includes the conclusion to this story, (four more chapters,) a three-part femdom punishment story, and more! https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling
    4 points
  3. Chapter Three I pulled up to the entrance of the parking garage a short drive later, cussing to myself for leaving my sunglasses on my kitchen counter. Between the blinding sun and my splitting headache, driving was a real challenge. Rolling my window down, I reached over to the parking ticket machine and hit the button to print off a ticket stub. After grabbing the ticket, the automatic gate arm swung up to allow me in. The first floor was full, but after driving up to the second floor, I was able to find a parking spot near the stairs. After parking my car, I turned the engine off and grabbed my backpack. Slipping out of the car, I slung one of my backpack straps over my shoulder and locked up my vehicle. I slowly made my way down the stairs and over to the entrance to the Emergency Room. At the pace I was going, it probably took me just as long to get to the main entrance as it took me to drive to the hospital. Walking through the sliding glass doors, I look around to see a large waiting area with rows of metal chairs with hard plastic seats and backrests. Looking back in front of me, there is a large reception desk with the front high enough for people to use while standing and the back looks to be of a regular height for the staff with a few computers set up. Making my way over, I see that there is only one person on the other side of the desk. It is a woman who looks to be in her mid to late thirties, with blond hair tied up in a bun. She has blue eyes and is wearing light blue scrubs. By the time I make it over to her, I am so tired that I need to use the front of the counter to help support my weight. Before I had the chance to speak, she looks up and greets me with, “How may I help you today?” “I have been throwing up since Tuesday night, I have not been able to keep anything down, including water. I have been having a lot of bowel movements too, despite the fact I have not been eating anything. I have a bad headache and my joints are aching too.” She responds, “I'm sorry to hear that, can I please get your full name and date of birth.” “My name is William Gauss, and my date of birth is May 12, 1996.” She said, “OK, one moment.” I see her typing away on her computer, and then a few moments later, a sheet comes out of the printer next to her. Taking the sheet off the printer, she peels a sticker off and sticks it onto a plain white hospital bracelet. Looking back up to me, she asked me to stick out my right arm and then attaches the bracelet around my wrist. While handing me the sheet of paper that she printed off, she said, “Please keep this with you for staff to use later on.” Looking down, I see that it is made up of rows and columns of stickers with barcodes, my name, and my date of birth. Looking at my new bracelet, I see that it has the same thing on it. I ask, “Do you have one of those vomit bags? I worried about making it to the bathroom in time if I got sick.” She said, “Sure, one second.” I see her get up, walk around the corner, where it looks like the triage area is, and comes back with a green plastic ring and hands it to me. Looking at the plastic ring, it has a green bag bunched up inside it to where it can extend like a sock. She then said, “We are not too busy this morning and it shouldn’t be a long wait to be seen.” I thanked her and made my way over to a seat that is near the restroom. With great relief, I sit down and set my backpack on the floor beside me. Thinking that I should let my parents know that I am at the ER, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I start a group text with both my mom and dad and text them, “I am at the ER. I threw up again last night. I feel worse than yesterday but still have the same symptoms. I will let you know what the doctor says after I am seen.” I put my phone back in my pocket and settled back into the uncomfortable chair. Resting my eyes for a moment, I feel my phone vibrant multiple times in my pocket. Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I see that I got both a text from Mom and Dad. They both responded with variations of calling them as soon as I saw the doctor. I text them back, that I will. After putting my phone back into my phone, I go back to trying to rest my eyes while I wait to be seen. Within about 10 minutes of waiting, I start to feel the need to go to the bathroom. Not wanting to chance having an accident, I gather my belongings and head to the restroom. I open the door to the restroom and see that it is a small group restroom with nobody inside. Consisting of three sinks, a urinal, a regular stall, and a handicap stall, I push the door open to the regular stall. As soon as I see the toilet, I feel the need to poop increase immediately. Not wanting to waste any time, I set my backpack down and pulled my pants down to sit on the toilet. With very little effort, my bowels unleash another colon’s worth of mud. After waiting a few minutes to make sure I was done, I wiped my bottom, flushed, and gathered back up my belongings. I exit the stall and walk over to the sink to wash my hands. After drying off my hands, I leave the restroom and make it back to my seat to continue waiting to be seen. As I am sitting down and waiting, I feel myself nod in and out of consensus. For what could have been either 20 minutes or an hour, my eyes snapped open to the sound of someone saying, “William Gauss.” I look over to where I heard the voice coming from to see a nurse wearing the same light blue scrubs as the intake woman. She is standing near, where I assume is the triage area from before. Making my way to her, I notice that she has brown hair up in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. As I approach her, I am greeted by her saying, “Hi my name is Sandy and I will be getting your visit started today. Please follow me.” I nod and follow behind her. Walking around the corner, my suspicions are correct and it is a triage area. I see a couple of chairs along one of the walls, some medical equipment mounted on the wall above, a scale in one of the corners, and a small table on wheels with a laptop sitting on top. She gestures for me to take a seat in one of the chairs and then sits on a stool with wheels. Rolling up in front of me she asked, “What brings you to the emergency room today?” I proceeded to tell her about my symptoms over the last two days as she is taking notes on her laptop. She then stated, “Well it is a good thing that you came in, at the very least to get fluids. You are probably very dehydrated. I am now going to take your vitals.” She then takes my blood pressure and temperature. After recording on her laptop she said, “Your temperature is normal at 98.4 and your blood pressure is a little elevated, at 132 over 74, but that is normal for someone needing to visit the ER. Let’s now get your height and weight.” I get up and walk over to the scale. Standing on the scale, she starts to slide the different weights across the beams. When the scale is balanced, I look at the number with shock. I now only weigh 135 pounds. She then measured my height and asked me to sit back down. Sitting back down at her laptop she states, “I have you recorded at a 135 pounds and 5 foot 10 inches.” With concern in my voice, I say, “Are you sure?” She responds, “Yes, is there a problem?” Trying not to trip over my words, I say, “I expected to have lost some weight, but I usually weigh 155 pounds. I also should be 6 feet even, I have been that height since I started 11th grade.” Pausing for a moment, she looked at me and said, “Well that is something to take note of. I will make a note in your file.” As she is typing on her laptop, I can tell by her body language alone, that this is not normal. But she, remaining professional, is trying not to worry me. A few minutes later, she asked me to follow her. Walking behind her, I see that she is taking me back into the main area of the emergency room. We pass what looks to be a nurse’s station and small rooms for other patients. She leads me to a room with the door open. Stepping inside, I see that it will be the room that I will be staying in while I am here. The room is simple with a single-size hospital bed with side railings that can be raised and lowered, a table on wheels that can be used to eat off of in bed, and a single chair in the corner. On the bed, I can see a folded hospital gown and a pair of grippy hospital socks. Turning to me, she said, “Please undress and put on the gown. A nurse who will be taking care of you for the rest of your visit will be here in a few minutes. I hope you feel better soon.” Despite how bad I feel, I muster up a small smile and thank her. With that, she turns around, leaves, and shuts the door behind her. I immediately toss my backpack onto the chair and set the page of barcode stickers and vomit bag on the table. I take my sweatshirt and tee shirt off, fold them up, and set them on the table. I don the gown and with a little difficulty, tying the ties on the back of the gown together. After slipping my shoes off, I put on the hospital socks since I didn’t put on socks this morning. I go and open the door to the room and take a seat on the bed. After waiting a few minutes, there is a knock on the door frame. Coming in is a nurse with a large white cart. The cart has cabinets on its lower half with drawers occupying the top half. On top is a laptop. The nurse is wearing light blue scrubs like the rest of the staff, she has black hair and green eyes. When she gets into the room, she introduces herself, “Good morning William, my name is Caty and I will be taking care of you today.” I responded, “Hi Caty, you can just call me Will.” Caty said, “Certainly, Will, I see that you are having trouble with your stomach and have body and headaches. I want to start by getting a quick medical history.” She then proceeded to ask me about my medical history, luckily, it was very short, with only a few ER visits in my lifetime. She next asked me about allergies, which I have none. Then onto occupation, which I say that I am a full-time grad student at ASU. Finally, she asked me about smoking, alcohol, and recreational drugs. I responded with no to all but having a few drinks a few times a month. After she finished taking all my information down, she states, “I am going to now start an I.V. for you with some fluids. Are you right-handed or left-handed?” I said, “I’m right-handed.” Caty then said, “Alright, I am going to put the I.V. in your left arm.” She pulls out an I.V. needle, alcohol swob, and rubber tourniquet. She wraps the tourniquet around my upper arm and wipes down the underside of my forearm with the swob. With the needle in hand, she finds a vein and says, “Big pinch.” With morbid fascination, I watch as the needle slowly enters my arm. After putting tape over the I.V., she takes all the trash from putting in my I.V., then takes a bag of fluids from the cart. She then scans the barcode on the bag of fluids and then scans my hospital bracelet. After setting up the bag on the I.V. poll and connecting it to my I.V. She presses some buttons on the machine on the I.V. poll that regulates the flow of fluids. Walking back to her cart she states, “I started pumping you with fluids, and the whole liter will be in you in about an hour. With how dehydrated you are, it should make you feel a little better. The doctor will see you soon and in the meantime, if you need anything, you can press the call button and I will be here as soon as possible.” I thank her, and she pushes the cart back out of my room and leaves the door ajar. Deciding to rest while I wait, I raise the head of the bed into a reclined position, lean back, and shut my tired eyes for a minute. I awakened to a knock on the door. Walking into my room, I see a woman in her forties wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat. She has shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. With a smile, she said, “I’m Dr. Richerson and I will be your attending doctor today.” While looking at a tablet in her hand, she states, “It looks like you are here for vomiting, irregular bowel movements, joint/body aches, and headaches.” I nod and while looking at the almost empty bag of fluids, notice that my head does not hurt as much as before. I then said, “Well, I think the fluids are helping, my head does not hurt as bad as before.” She nodded, then said, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a slight tickle and 10 being your arm being cut off, how much pain are you in?” “I think it would be about a 5. I am in a lot of pain, but it is not agonizing.” She asked, “Have you tried taking any over-the-counter pain medicine?” “I tried taking Tylenol yesterday, but ended up just throwing it back up.” She said, “I will put in an order to get you some I.V. pain medicine, In the meantime, I want to do a physical exam of you.” Taking her stethoscope, she pulls my gown up and listens to my heart, lungs, and stomach. After pulling my gown back down, she said, “I don’t see or hear anything abnormal from the physical exam. Without running a fever, it does not appear to be an obvious infection. It is worrying, that it is noted that you have lost about 20 pounds and 2 inches in height. It is normal to get a few inches shorter throughout a lifetime, but you being a healthy 27-year-old, should not be getting shorter yet. I am going to order a CT scan of your abdomen, legs, and arms. I am also going to order a blood panel test and urine test. As far as the headaches, I do believe it is just from severe dehydration, getting more fluids should help with that.” I said, “It definitely was shocking when I got weighed and measured earlier.” She responded, “After all of the test results come back in, we should be able to find out what is going on. Your nurse will be back shortly to start getting you ready for the test.” I thank the nice doctor and she walks back out of my room. A few minutes later, Caty comes back into my room with the large cart. She said, “Well, it seems that Dr. Richerson has put in the order to run some tests and give you some pain medicine.” I nod in agreement. I then see her pull out a syringe from one of the drawers, scans it, then scans my bracelet again. She then said, “This is a low dose of morphine, this should help with your pain.” As soon as she pushes the syringe into my I.V., I start to feel relief and my body starts to relax. With the constant pain I was in, and the morphine taking it away, I finally realized the scale of pain I was in before. Caty walks back to the cart and I can see that she is getting the supplies needed to draw blood samples. Walking back to my right side, she sets all the supplies beside me on the bed. She then said, “I am going to draw some blood for the blood panel test.” After saying “OK”, she then goes through the process of tying a tourniquet around my upper arm, wiping my forearm with an alcohol swab, and drawing three vials of blood. With the blood drawn, she throws all the medical waste away and takes three of the stickers off the sheet to label the vials, and puts it on her cart. She then grabs a small clear cup with a lid, takes another sticker on it, and sets it on the table. Turning to me she said, “This cup is for a urine sample, I know you are pretty dehydrated, but as soon as you need to go, there is a bathroom down the hallways near the nurse’s station that you can use. Once you have the sample, you can leave it at the nurse’s station. There will be someone here shortly to take you to get a CT scan.” With that statement, she pushes the cart back out of my room. Alone with my thoughts, I can finally think a little more clearly with the morphine and the fluids taking my mind off of the constant headache and body aches. I have a sinking feeling in my gut that this is not going to be an easy fix. Before I can let my mind go to worst-case scenarios, an orderly walks in pushing a wheelchair. The orderly is a man wearing the same light blue scrubs as all the other nurses and he looks to be in his early twenties with brown hair and brown eyes. He looked at me and said, “Are you William Gauss?” I said, “Yes.” He then said, “I’m here to take you to get a CT scan, can you please sit in the wheelchair.” With just a nod, I slowly get out of bed and sit in the wheelchair. At the same time, he takes my I.V. bag and pump and attaches it to the I.V. poll on the back of the wheelchair. Moments later, I am being wheeled down the hallway to radiology. Pulling up to radiology, the orderly parked the wheelchair and said to me that someone would be with me shortly and then walked away. A minute later, the radiologist walks out and introduces himself. He is in his thirties and is wearing a darker blue set of scrubs than all the other staff that I have seen. He has black hair, glasses, and brown eyes. He said, “My name is Sean and I will be giving you a CT scan today, is your name William Gauss?” I said, “Yes, but you can call me Will” He responds, “Let's get started, it should only take about 15 minutes.” He then pushes my wheelchair into an almost empty room with the CT machine in the middle. He wheels me up to where the table is to lay down on. He then instructs me to lie down on the table and with a little help I am situated on the table. I then see him walk to a side room with a large viewing window. Over the intercom, I hear, “Alright Will, I am going to start your CT scan, there will be times that I will ask you to hold your breath to get a good image. Please stay as still as possible and we should be able to get you on your way as soon as possible.” Moments later, the table started moving. He processed to scan me as I listened to his commands to hold my breath at certain intervals; all the while, trying to stay as still as possible. True to his word, I was sitting back outside of radiology, 15 minutes later, waiting for an orderly to come and take me back to my room. I see the same orderly walk back up to me and takes me back to my room. As soon as I get settled back in my room, I get the need to pee. Getting out of bed, I unplug the I.V. pump and push the I.V. poll over to the table to grab the urine sample cup. I then make my way down the corridor to the bathroom. Opening up the restroom, which just has a toilet and sink, I shut the door behind me and stood in front of the toilet. I take the lid off of the cup and set it on the sink. With my free hand, I pull my sweatpants down and lift my gown up. I start to empty my bladder into the toilet then take the cup to collect a sample. After getting a sample, I notice that my urine is a dark shape of yellow, almost brown. Thinking to myself that I must be very dehydrated and then realizing that this was the first time that I peed since Tuesday night before bed. I flush the toilet, pull my sweatpants back up and screw the lid tight onto the cup. After washing my hands, I exit the bathroom pushing my I.V. poll, with sample cup in hand, to the nurse’s station. As soon as I set the cup down on the counter, I am hit with the need to poop. Without wasting any time, I bolt back to the bathroom, shut the door, and yank my pants down. Sitting on the toilet while holding up my gown, I release another mudslide into the toilet. After waiting a moment to make sure I am done, I wipe, flush, and wash my hands again. I make it back to my room and after plugging back in my I.V. pump, I lay back down in bed. As soon as I start to get comfortable and shut my eyes, Caty walks into the room. With a bag of fluids in one hand and a paper cup in the other, she said, “Hi Will, I saw that you left me a urine sample. I have another bag of fluids to give you since your current bag is almost empty and Dr. Richerson wants to try and see if you can keep anything down. I have a hot cup of plain chicken broth for you to drink.” Setting the cup on the table beside me, she goes to the other side of the bed to switch out the bag of fluids. After reminding me that if I need anything to hit the call button, she walks back out of my room. I take the cup in my hand and begin to sip on the warm broth. After a few minutes, the cup is empty; I set it back down on the table and lay back down. With the warm broth in my stomach, I fall asleep almost immediately. My eyes shoot open and I am met with the impending need to vomit. I reach over to the table and grab the vomit bag and projectile vomit all of the chicken broth backup into the bag. After catching my breath, I reached over and hit the call button. A few minutes later, Caty walks back into the room. Seeing me with a bag full of vomit, she said, “I will be right back.” A minute later, she walks back in with a new vomit bag and a cup. She said, “Well it was worth a try. Here is some water to wash your mouth out with.” I take the cup, take a sip, swish it around in my mouth, then spit it into the used bag. She hands me a napkin that I use to wipe my mouth with and throw it into the bag. She then takes the used bag from me and throws it away. I ask, “How much longer until I get my results back.” Caty said, “We are still waiting on the blood work and urine sample results to come back. As soon as those results are in, Dr. Richerson will review them and will come and talk to you about your results.” I thanked her and laid back down and fell back asleep. I wake up to someone gently shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes and see that it is Dr. Richerson. “Hey Will, sorry for waking you, I got all your test results back and want to go over them with you.” I said, “That is alright, I am ready to know what is going on with me.” She stated, “Well, your results were a little off. Your urine sample shows high levels of calcium. Looking at your blood work, it also shows high levels of calcium and creatine kinase. Your CT scan shows that there are no issues with your abdomen, but all your joints that were scanned show signs of inflammation.” With a slight catch in my voice, “What … does this mean?” She responds, “Your results are a little inconclusive, but it does look like some kind of autoimmune response. With the high levels of calcium and creatine kinase, it looks like your body is attacking its bones and muscles. We will have to run more tests to find out what exactly is going on. Also with you unable to eat and drink on your own, I am going to have to admit you into the hospital.”
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  4. This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better. This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue. I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point. The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint. Saving Grace Chapter One I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing. I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day. Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me. Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started. As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.'' "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me. I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.'' "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said. "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.'' I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus. It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home. As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city. After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside. Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom. I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo. Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week. With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom. Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep. I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out. Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed. As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.
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  5. Whoa, that was an information explosion of a chapter! The lengths that her parents went to to avoid having Grace use pull ups seems extreme. So I think the ‘sheet’ is their word for a pull up because Grace didn’t like them and would refer to them as something else(all the descriptions could apply to a pull up too). I also have a theory on the ‘pill’. I think it’s a placebo. Grace would have been desperate for the pills to work and Maddy is desperate for pull ups that mention of a pill that could stop her could make her scared enough to believe it. Daytime accidents are going to help her convince her parents if the pill does keep preventing her from wetting the bed though. I do hope she doesn’t actually end up asking for them directly.
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  6. And there's more. I ran out of room in the downstairs closet where I had originally kept it all. Got 2 full cases of Crinklz down there plus plenty of partial cases and my "diaparchive" (that's a real word --- I just made it up!).
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  7. Revisiting this as it was delivery day again. I'm pretty sure the UPS guy knows what was inside. One case was almost completely split in half. But now the auxiliary stash has doubled in size.
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  8. [Part 10: Ascent] Chapter 113:Staffing Issues The next three days were a quiet nightmare for me. I was losing my bladder control. It wasn’t that I was completely unaware, I wasn’t incontinent; it wasn’t like I didn’t know I was peeing most times. There were no instances of wide eyed shock at the sudden wet warmth spreading out from my crotch or the feeling of a squish and being puzzled by it. I knew what was going on with my body. But unless I was actively thinking about it and resisted the urge, I just peed. Holding my bladder had become less like holding a cup of coffee and more like not scratching an itch. It was possible, but every moment spent not scratching became increasingly distracting to the point of agony. And just like scratching an itch, it was very possible to do it while asleep. When I was put down for naps or just dozing, I stirred enough to wake myself up. Once I woke up right as my body was letting loose, but I still counted it. At night, in a deep sleep, nestled in Janet’s arms? It felt impossible. It was like Billy had said when we’d first met. I wasn’t incontinent, I was becoming unpotty trained. Forced practice and the normalization of it all were taking their toll on me. Imagining myself becoming like Billy who literally could and would push a steaming load into his pants at any given time no matter what else he was doing, I soothed myself by asserting that much control and holding my bowels for as long as I could bear. I didn’t bring any of this up to Janet of course. She wouldn’t have believed me anyways, and if she did she’d no doubt be overjoyed. I’d finally said that I hate her straight to her face and it hadn’t phased her. Perhaps the breast milk was doing something to me, but it’s not like I could bring it up to Janet. For all I knew, Amazon breast milk was an addictive drug that caused long term incontinence and brain damage to Littles; but any Amazon cited source would make zero correlation to that fact. Don’t ask questions if you don’t fully trust the narrator. Oh yeah. The breast milk. How had I not realized? How could I have been so stupid? So blind? So willfully ignorant? Between that and everything else that had happened on Monday, I really did need the three days off just to process. Those three days were also remarkably pleasant. We slept in and got up with the sun. My liquid diet consisted entirely of water and juice that Janet deliberately poured in front of me and sampled herself each time. My solid diet was finger foods, cut up fruit, corn dogs, massive pizza slices cut into bite size hunks. There was nothing gooey like macaroni and cheese or lasagna; nothing that would be untoward for an adult to eat with their hands; though the steamed broccoli was a stretch. Because of her mandate on me not ‘playing’, we went to places where other Littles weren’t likely to be during school or daycare hours. That meant no playgrounds! We went grocery shopping and made a trip to the book store in lieu of the library because of its ‘Mommy and Me Baby Time’ program. She even got me a book. ‘Jeepers: Lights! Camera! Ack! Shh!’. It was pulpy drivel, but a child’s chapter book written at a fourth grade level was leagues away from the illustrated propaganda in Beouf’s room. One afternoon we took turns reading chapters to each other on the couch, guessing what the next dumb fake out would be following the cliffhanger at the end of a given chapter. For three whole days, I got to hang out with Janet. And I didn’t hate it. We talked about nothing in particular. We read to each other. We did yoga (the one exception to the television rule she’d put in place). She didn’t ask me to drink any milk at all, only asked if I wanted to keep talking about it. There were no further trauma incidents such as seeing free Littles set on edge by our presence.. Easiest grounding I’d ever had, to be honest. The one thing that stung was missing the LIttle Voices meeting that wink. I desperately wanted to regale a certain wonderful nutter with the tale of how I’d busted an Amazon in the nose. There was something Amy had yet to accomplish as far as I knew. It would have been nice to tell her that before Ambrose inevitably found a way to strike back. Amazons always did. That Friday Morning sucked. We woke up on time but were slow to get going. The weather forecast had temperatures in the forties that morning but expected it to rise into the low seventies by the early afternoon. I sat fidgeting in my car seat. My jacket was too puffy and the jeans didn’t feel nearly baggy enough; like denim tights in some places. Janet had split her morning breakfast shake with me, but the sweetness was artificial and chalky compared to what I’d allowed myself to become accustomed to. That made me shudder. “This outfit sucks,” I complained for the third or thirtieth time. We turned into the school parking lot. “We don’t get cold weather very often, babe,” Janet said patiently. “You can take the jacket off when you get inside. You might not even need it by lunch.” “But then everybody will see the onesie,” I whined. The navy blue long sleeved onesie with snowflake patterns was adorable. Adorable was not how I cared to be seen. “That’s why you keep the pants on over it.” Janet said. Damn. She had a point. And it was better than a shirt because there was no chance of my diaper poking out the back. That was…actually kind of thoughtful. “Oh…yeah.” Janet glanced at the dashboard clock. “Crap! We’re late.” The sun cresting over the horizon gave hint to what the clock was broadcasting. Less than five minutes before clock in time. The buses would be here any minute. Janet zipped around to my door and all but ripped me out of the car seat. “No time to go to the classroom. Mommy will clock in and hand you off to Mrs. B.” She practically dashed carrying me over her shoulder; every little bump and jostle stopping me from telling her that she wasn’t supposed to call herself Mommy when we were alone. There was no time for that argument, however. The concrete zipped by. Someone I couldn’t see looking over the back of Janet’s shoulder said “Hi Janet! Hi Clark!” and she hustled through to log in for the day. Three steps in I was able to get a good look at Beouf still holding the door, waving, and giggling. I waved back. I stood on solid ground for the first time that morning when she sat me down and started punching in her number. It was not to last, however. “Boss!” My eyes lit up. My whole body pivoted towards the front office’s mail room. “Tracy?!” Tracy stood there, eyes wide with excitement, holding an armful of papers. Better yet, she was dressed like a normal person again, and not a gross parody of a western school marm! She took the stack of worksheets fresh off the printer and bits of announcements and mail and placed them on a nearby desk. “Boss!” “TRACY!” “BOSS!” The Tweener got down on her knees and flung her arms wide. I took the cue and waddle-ran all the way into her arms, giving her the biggest possible hug I could manage, even with the puffy jacket limiting my mobility. There were soft quiet ‘Awwws’ and one disgruntled ‘Hmmmph’, but I didn’t care this time. My feet were on the ground but I was on cloud nine. “How ya been, sir?” Tracy asked, her voice soft and gentle. “Three days?” I boasted. “I could do three days standing on my head.” I neglected to mention my recent nighttime problems because well…there’s no good way to bring that up. “You?” Tracy stood back up, but she kept gushing. “It’s been like a vacation. The substitute that came in has been phenomenal!” “Substitute?” I said. “You mean Ambrose hasn’t come back yet?” The first bell rang right as the buses were starting to motor up. I felt Janet’s warm shadow over me. “I need to go unlock my classroom,” Janet spoke over my head. “Can you get him to Mrs. Beouf please?” Tracy gave a cheeky thumbs up. “I think I can manage, ma’am.” Two full lips planted themselves on the top of my head. “Bye bye, Clark. Have fun today!” I slapped my palm over the spot that had been kissed like I was swatting at mosquitoes. “Mommy!” I squeaked. Alas, she was already power walking out the side exit towards the courtyard. Tracy arched an eyebrow. “Mommy?” “Shut up,” I growled, embarrassed at myself. My assistant held her hands up in defense. “No judgment. No judgment. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. Say what you gotta say.” I tried to move beside her and reached up for her hand. “Come on. Let’s go.” Tracy eyeballed the front door. “Are you kidding? It’s cold out there and our buses are dead last. We can wait a few.” Oh wow! Neither I nor Tracy had ever dared to push our luck by waiting inside after the bell. We’d bitch about it, sure, but we never acted on it. Something had emboldened Tracy. I kind of liked it. “Okay,” I said back up to her. “So…substitute?” “Oh she’s amazing!” Tracy said. “She’s an Amazon, but she’s really good with the kids. Playful but doesn’t goof around. Talks to them like they’re people, but isn’t a drill sergeant. Really knows her stuff! Emily’s mom came in on Tuesday and this lady just talked circles around her and redirected her so that she was happy and gone in like five minutes! Almost like how you and me would do it. I think even Beouf kinda likes her.” Wow, again. I leaned back from surprise. Tracy did not give compliments this lightly. They were just falling out of her, too. There was no way she was using any kind of office politics language in case we were overheard, (and we were obviously being overheard). “Oh,” I sighed. “Good. What’s her name?” The door to Brollish’s office opened and closed. “Starke. With an ‘e’ at the end.” Starke…Starke…Starke…I didn’t know any teachers with that name. Not that I could expect myself to know every teacher, as necessarily anti-social as I was. Light footfalls signalled an approach. “That doesn’t sound like any of the regular subs. What’s she look like?” Tracy pointed towards Brollish’s hallway. “Kinda like that.” The lady who walked out of Brollish’s office might as well have been a Little made large: Skinny and straight almost to the point of pre-pubescence. Her hips and breasts were still bigger than any Little woman’s, but proportionally speaking, she was a twig. Her short, light brown hair was let down and neatly combed, and she was dressed functionally yet professionally; much like how Beouf often did- with clothes designed for ease of mobility and comfort so that one could get down on the floor and play with students as much as teach them at their desks. Her red and puffy winter jacket was almost an exact replica of my own, possibly because they had been bought from the same store. There was a joyful gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. She waved. “Morning, Tracy! Morning, Clark!” “Hey, Miss Starke!” Tracy waved back. Then she took a second and looked back down at me. “You guys know each other?” “She’s my babysitter,” I said almost under my breath. Jessica pranced our way. “How are you buddy?” she cooed down at me. “Ready to play and learn? Still sleepy? Grumpy?” Tracy reached down and gave my hand a squeeze. Then Jessica said to her. “Oh, sorry. His Mommy is my best friend. I’m kind of his honorary aunt. Ms. Grange. Do you know her?” “Yeah…” Tracy nodded. “I do. We used to all meet up first thing in the morning and chat before work. Me. Mrs. Beouf. Ms. Grange. Clark.” This had all become incredibly awkward, and once again, the Amazon was the one who had no idea. “That sounds neat! Maybe we can start doing that again once I’m settled in.” The tips of her fingers shot up to her mouth in self surprise. “Oops! I didn’t mean to invite myself. No pressure of course. No pressure. Just I love Janet, and I’ve really liked working with you so far and…” “We?” I parroted. “So far? Settled? Jessica…Auntie Jessica, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jessica paused and then broke out in a mile wide grin. “I got the position!” Tracy gasped and let go of my hand. I did too. So many conflicting emotions roiled up inside of me. Janet’s best friend was teaching my kids. That meant that they were infinitely safe in comparison. It also meant I might get babysat less often. But it also meant I’d been replaced…again…by another giant. A shrill harpy’s cry rang out. “WHAT?!” Raine Forrest leapt out of the receptionists chair so fast that it fell over backwards. This was doubly impressive because being a wheelie office chair it shouldn’t have been able to do that so easily. “MS. AMBROSE GOT FIRED?!” All eyes were on us and Forrest as she stomped over to us, huffing and puffing. Aides, volunteers, teachers running late, parents trying to beat the school bus because their kid forgot to take something with them: every one of them was either looking right at us or doing their absolute best to not look at us. “I don’t know anything about that,” Jessica answered sheepishly. “I was just told that the preschool teaching position was open and asked if I wanted it.” Despite being within easy speaking distance of us, Forrest did not stop screaming. “THAT’S NOT FAIR! THAT’S NOT FAIR AT ALL!” Tracy spoke up. “She hit a student. Multiple times. And me. What was supposed to happen?” “HE ASSAULTED HER AND SHE DEFENDED HERSELF!” Forrest roared. “WHY IS SHE FIRED AND THIS LITTLE BASTARD GETS TO KEEP HIS FREE DAYCARE? HIS MOM ISN’T THAT GOOD OF A TEACHER!” That lit a fire underneath Jessica. “Excuse me,” she said, getting between me and Forrest. “That is not how we talk in front of parents and students, that is not how we talk about our co-workers or their children, and that is certainly not how you talk about my friend and my godson.” It wasn’t as forceful or as fuming as Janet’s previous dressing down, but there was a power to it. In the way the two women carried and conducted themselves in that moment, Raine seemed like a tantruming toddler and Jessica was the adult firmly putting her foot down, telling her the behavior was unacceptable. Fury in Raine’s voice condensed. Not as loud but just as angry. “Oh. So you’re one of them.” Unbeknownst to us, another monster had entered the room. “Miss Forrest.” A quiet, raspy, skeletal voice called out. “Perhaps we should talk.” And the volcano erupted all over again. “FUCK YOU!” She shouted at Brollish. Brollish looked like she’d been struck “I beg your pardon?” “FUCK! YOU! THIS MANIPULATIVE SON OF A BITCH HAS CAUSED PROBLEMS ON THIS CAMPUS FOR YEARS! LITERAL YEARS! AND INSTEAD OF GETTING RID OF HIM YOU FIRE A PERFECTLY GOOD TEACHER! HE SHOULD BE AT NEW BEGINNINGS RIGHT NOW GETTING TAUGHT A LESSON INSTEAD OF PLAYING IN BEOUF’S GLORIFIED DAYCARE!” “See me in my office, Miss Forrest. Now.” “NO!” Forrest stomped her foot. “FUCK YOU! I QUIT! I CAN’T WORK HERE ANYMORE! I QUIT!” She stormed out the side exit, slamming the door behind her. Everyone else froze. “That was unfortunate,” Brollish said. No one moved. “Get to your stations. Students are already unloading. Have a nice day.” The room sprung back into action as if Brollish had pressed the universe’s play button. Jessica took a knee and knelt down to my eye level. “Sorry you had to see that, kiddo,” she said. “You okay?” Tracy took one look at my awestruck face. “Oh, he’s more than okay. Trust me.” I was doing everything I could not to burst out in joyous maniacal, frantic, idiotic laughter; the kind of laughter that would risk me wetting myself even if my body hadn’t started slipping. Both my newest and oldest enemies on campus had been removed in the space of five days. Bonus points: Ambrose had been replaced with someone who was as much her antithesis as it was possible to be and still count as an Amazon. Double bonus was this was someone who knew me and was inclined to humor me. If I couldn’t look after my students directly, I could at least have the ear of the two people who were. Tracy liked her too, meaning she’d stick around. Best. Grounding. Ever. “I’m okay,” I said. “I’m very okay.” I reached up and took both ladies’ hands. Tracy took the worksheets in her free arm and we walked out into the chill cold just as the final two buses were pulling up. “Hey Tracy?” “Yeah?” “Does Emiliano have any experience in telephone reception?” If Tracy had been drinking coffee she would have spit it out. “It’s a good thing my hands are full or I’d smack you, you Little booger!” Surprisingly, or not surprisingly, Jessica puffed out a bit of laughter. “Okay. Yeah. You know Clark, alright.” Chapter 114: Through Windows Once Closed I watched my reflection while Beouf tugged down the sides of my fresh diaper, making sure the fit was nice and snug without risking the tapes ripping. “Almost….done!” She smiled, satisfied at her work. I let out a small sigh now that I was no longer encased in my own pee. A long tired yawn bellowed out of me. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHW” Beouf reciprocated the yawn while she boosted my hips and buttoned the snowflake onesie up between my legs. “Don’t start, baby, you’ll get me doing it.” I frowned, the b-word still stinging despite the affection. “Okay, Granny.” I joked. “Do you want me to pull up your rocker and quilt for you?” She stuffed the old balled up diaper down into the pail behind her. I’d needed the change since before the buses, but we were running behind so I volunteered to wait. No sense in Annie or Billy risking a rash because they were stuck in filthy pants for an extra forty five minutes to an hour when I could just wait ten and get relative privacy to boot. “Don’t even joke, young master Grange,” Beouf said. “My granddaughter has been keeping me up the past two weeks. If I could fit, I might curl up in one of those cribs with ya.” She fiddled with my jeans, turning them this way and that, checking for leaks. “Pants on?” I stared up at the ceiling mirror. I looked absolutely ridiculous and adorable. Putting some jeans over them wouldn’t alter that overmuch. That and Beouf still had the heat up to full blast. “Pass.” “Deal.” She folded up the jeans. “Shoes and socks?” I wiggled my toes. “Why? It’s Friday. Might as well start it right.” Beouf shook her head but had the biggest glowing smile on her face. “Suit yourself.” She unfastened the strap across my chest and set me down off the changing table and onto the cool tile floor. “Jealous?” I asked. “Maybe a smidge,” she admitted. “I don’t think I could pull the look off like you can.” She tucked my grimy socks into my sneakers and placed them atop the folded up jeans. “More just really happy to see you like this.” Turning down the jeans seemed like a really bad idea right then and there. “Like what?” “Happy.” She made a gentle shooing motion towards me. “Now come on. I wanna get some coffee, not spend all afternoon in the bathroom.” I crinkled out and around the classroom, approaching Beouf’s kidney table in a wide arc for no other reason than I felt like it. In contrast, Beouf made long rigid strides for the coffee pot, moving at right angles and letting her tree trunk limbs carry her past my meandering gait. The resulting differences in tempo made it so that I was sitting down right as she was finishing shaking up my bottle and placing it in front of me. “To the end of another week,” I raised the bottle filled with mocha in a mock toast. “To the end of another week,” Beouf parroted me. She gave a conspiratorial scan of the classroom as if searching for eavesdroppers. “And the end of Ambrose.” For once I blushed and smiled yet felt no need to hide it and no shame in expressing it. We clinked glasses and sipped our drinks in a moment of comfortable, amicable silence. I exhaled and threw in, “Bonus points for Forrest.” “Hmmm?” Beouf blinked and swallowed her drink. “Beg pardon?” “Forrest quit,” I said. “That’s what that was this morning during the buses? She quit?” I took another pull from the bottle, feeling smug as anything. “Yup.” Beouf covered her mouth and pounded the table top lightly in place of laughter. “Oh my gosh! That’s awesome!” “You’re welcome.” I said. “She literally cited me being allowed back as the reason she was quitting. That and Ambrose getting canned.” Beouf held her palm out and I slapped it. “Don’t you ever do anything like that ever again, though,” she quickly said. “Ever. I mean it. Scared the daylights out of me and everybody else.” I tried using my superpower of not rolling my eyes, but it failed from lack of practice. “Yes Mrs. B.” Hadn’t we already had this talk? What did she think I was? Oh…oh yeah. She kinda did… “I mean it, Clark.” Beouf said. “I was scared. We all were. Ivy was close to hysterics when she first got back here.” I put the bottle down. “What?!” “Zoge told me she kept mumbling something in Yamatoan about how it was her fault. Do you know how she would have felt if you’d have gotten expelled? How I would have felt?” The mental image of poor delusional Ivy and poor delusional Mel crying because I got sent to New Beginnings was enough to shake even me. We’d just re-reached a place of understanding again. Ivy and I had even less time as friends. The fact that my exit from their worlds could affect them so; I hated to admit it, but it was touching. I dug my fingers into my face and dragged them down into an exasperated mask. “Fine, I promise!” I said. “Sheesh.” “Ivy and you are not going to be allowed to be next to each other in line for the rest of the year,” Beouf said firmly. “Calendar year or school year?” “Clark!” “Sorry! I just had to ask.” The joke did not land. My unexpected victory had been her emotional crisis. The silence turned awkward. My gut grumbled from the coffee and I made a mental note not to start pushing right then and there. If I could I’d do it in Janet’s car right as she was pulling into the neighborhood so that nobody’s eyes were fixed on me while I did the deed. There was no urgency or feeling of strain save for lamenting that planning to void into my pants had become routine and that the presented (and expected) alternative was worse. I wasn’t that unpotty trained… The awkwardness passed and Beouf resumed sipping her coffee. “How was your Friday?” “Kind of boring, actually,” I admitted. “No arguing or yelling or drama or surprises.” The last thirty minutes has just been the A.L.L. lounging behind our usual oak tree. No one wanted to play or make fun of the others. It was fucking grating. “Thank goodness,” Mel chuckled. “Monday was enough excitement for me.” “No, seriously,” I said. “Maybe we could spice it up every once in a while. Have Fun Fridays or something. Change it up beyond just recess at the end of the day?” “You want more recess?” “Maybe,” I pondered. “Like free play inside before lunch or a special game after naps. Might be nice to have some structure.” My mind leapt to the silly yet creative games used to pass the time at Little Voices meetings. I’d own these losers at ‘Clark says’. “I give you structure the entire day,” Beouf gestured comically to the visual schedule on the wall. “Now you want more structure during the one time of day when I cut you monsters loose?” I leaned forward on my elbows. “When you put it like that…” I covered my lips and muttered. “Kinda…?” “Are you trying to get under my skin, or do you genuinely want me to come up with games for you to play?” “Two things can be true…” I grinned. “Kids…” Beouf said into her mug. “Hm?” “Nothing,” she said coyly. Before I could make a comeback, she piled on, “If you want to make a lesson plan and try to teach your classmates some things out there I have no objection.” “Lesson plan?” I stopped blinking. “Seriously?” “Nothing official,” Beouf said. “Just if you want to teach your friends some new games, I’ll be happy to learn with them so I can referee.” A wink sealed my fate. “But you have to put in the work and get me the rules first so I know you’re not just being silly.” She took a moment to wag her finger at me. “No battle tag, either. Too much diving and tackling. Not appropriate.” A chance to teach! To lead and present! I pursed my lips together. “You’re playing me and I don’t even care.” “Sign of a good mentor/mentee relationship,” Beouf finished her coffee. “Both parties walk away taking advantage of each other and not caring.” It meant everything to me that she called it mentor/mentee and not teacher/student just then. She put her mug down and let out another loud yawn. “That grandbaby really keeping you up?” I asked. I got a tired nod in reply. “I thought Mom and Dad had to deal with the midnight feedings. Isn’t that what parents do?” Beouf bellowed out another yawn. “Doesn’t mean I don’t get woken up,” she said. “Sometimes I’ll give her the bottle just because I know I”m not going back to sleep.” She smacked her lips and her eyes started to drop. “Two weeks now. That baby has the second worst case of colic I’ve ever seen.” “What was the first?” Her eyes opened back up and a wicked wry smile jotted itself across my friends lips. “You.” “Oh you bi…” I sputtered and self-corrected. “You witch!” Melony stuck her tongue out at me. “Walked into that one, bubba!” she tittered. “I have so many swear words right now,” I grumbled. “All the swear words!” Our back and forth was interrupted with the gentle clicking of a doorknob turning. For the first time since September I looked at the backdoor of Beouf’s room opening and my heart didn’t fill with dread. The sound of two women laughing like school girls preceded Tracy’s head poking in the room. “Hey,” she said to the space between me and Beouf. “Mind if I come in?” “Sure,” Beouf waved the teacher’s aide in. I did, too. Tracy came all the way in, and the noise crescendoed with her entrance. “Janet and Jessica,” Tracy thumbed behind her. “You’d think they were long lost sisters who hadn’t seen each other in forever.” The slight distance between the classrooms was just enough so that I couldn’t make out the individual words, but the patter was loud, boisterous, and above all happy. It was nice to hear happiness coming from that room. “Yeah,” I sighed. “They get like that, sometimes. I don’t get it.” Janet was the last to find out about her bestie’s new job. When they saw each other at the bus loop after school she started squealing and jumping like she’d won the lottery. Jessica responded in kind. I was given a quick kiss and handed straight back to Beouf. I’d become an afterthought. After so long feeling like an obsession, being an afterthought was really cool. In Tracy’s hand was something off-black, flat, and rectangular. She had it tucked under her arm, and positioned away from me like she was trying to hide something. The door shut behind her with an audible thud, but was punctuated by even more laughter pounding out behind her. Beouf stood up out of her teacher chair. “Okay,” she said. “Now I gotta know what’s so darn funny.” She looked down at me. “Wanna come?” Tracy and I exchanged glances. She fidgeted. Uncomfortably. “Not really,” I told Beouf. “I’ve got a feeling someone’s coming over for dinner. I only wanna hear the jokes once.” “I don’t mind staying with him,” Tracy offered. Beouf held her hand up and out. “Tag out.” “Tag out.” Tracy agreed. They high fived and Tracy got out of the way so Beouf could go socialize with her fellow giants. “Sup,Tracy?” I asked. Tracy waltzed over to the kidney table and shifted the dark rectangle behind her back. “Hey, Boss. Got something for you.” “What?” I asked. “A present.” Tracy said. Then she tacked on. “And a thank you. And an apology.” “An apology?” I asked. “For what?” My old assistant pulled out a kids’ seat next to me. Even sitting down, she was bigger than me. “For this,” she gently brushed my cheek with her fingers. “And for not being honest with you.” I turned my head with the graze of her finger tips, feeling the slap all over again. “It’s okay,” I told her. “You saved me from getting humiliated in front of our kids. We’re even.” “You punched a bitch in the nose and took a beating!” Tracy exclaimed. Our gazes met. “And you saved me.” When she didn’t reply, I took the initiative. “We’re even. We’re more than even.” Even more awkward silence as we sat there. It was only broken when I remembered what I was wearing and shifted and crinkled uncomfortably in my seat. “Anyways,” Tracy said, bringing the rectangle back around and laying it down in front of me. “I had an idea. Emiliano already went back to work in Elizabeton. I can’t scope out the daycares and whatnot like you wanted.” “Yeah,” I said. “I know. I get it.” “But…” she brightened. “I can give you something almost as good.” “Which is?” Like a model on a daytime game show, she waved her hand over what she’d been hiding behind her back. It was a touch screen tablet, obviously well used. The screen still had smudges on it and there were tiny bits of brown gunk along the power and volume buttons where it had been pressed and dropped ad nauseam The paint on the home button was smudged to oblivion. “This isn’t mine,” Tracy assured me. “Got it used from a friend.” “Okay…” I said. “What is it?” Tracy started the tablet up, and punched in a passcode of ‘1-3-5-7-9’. “It’s a gaming tablet,” she said. “Last night I downloaded a bunch of fun games on it. No hypno games or anything that’s gonna make you uh…you know.” A weak smile muscled its way up over my skull. “Huh. Neat. Something to do over the weekend. Thanks, Tracy.” “I already got Janet’s permission to give it to you,” Tracy said proudly. “She’s got no problem with you playing any of these games.” I skimmed the icons that flooded the screen. None of them seemed particularly babyish. Nothing that was designed to teach me shapes or colors. One had a skull and crossbones. Another had a stick figure inside a sniper’s crosshairs. “Thanks.” “Fair warning,” Tracy told me, “she can access the parental controls and change the passcode if she wants. I already showed her and Miss Starke how to put a timer on it to limit your screen time so you can’t stay up late or anything.” “Ah,” I said. “That makes sense.” The small amount of satisfaction I was drawing from this was rapidly diminishing. “Yeah,” the Tweener repeated herself. “The parental controls really sold it for her.” A subversive counter melody entered the cadence of her speech. “She was really happy about that feature.” My eyes squinted up at her. “Is there anything my Mommy would be happier not knowing about?” I asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir. Officially no idea.” Then my old partner in crime showed me exactly what she had no idea about. **************************************************************************************** I felt like a million bucks that night. A nice hot shower. Fresh fuzzy pajamas and powder to minimize chafing. New sheets in the crib and a freshly laundered Lion. It was a wonder what a few minor creature comforts could do after a long and dreary day. Janet leaned over the crib railing, her curvaceous form still wrapped in a towel, her hair lightly dripping. Both of our heads smelled of sweet honey shampoo. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in Mommy’s bed tonight?” she coaxed. “I could lay with you until you fell asleep and then move you to the cot until I came back.” “I’m okay,” I replied as politely as I could. “Thank you, though.” I was doing everything I could not to stare at the object of my desire. Subtlety was hardly my strong point and Janet knew it. “You just want to stay up and play with your new toy.” This was neither a question, nor an accusation. I sucked on my lips. “Kinda,” I admitted. “Snuggle tomorrow night? Stay up late tomorrow and sleep in Sunday morning?” “Oh, so we’re staying up late, now?” Janet taunted. “Someone has gotten very used to being suspended.” “It’s very easy to stay up late with an extra source of developmentally appropriate stimulation,” I offered. “If you’d like to negotiate it so that I take an extra long nap tomorrow, I’m amenable to that discussion.” Janet tilted her head and crossed her arms. “You just want to stay up and play with your new toy, don’t you?” I immediately averted my gaze and pretended to be interested in the dinosaur crib sheets. “Yes ma’am.” My Amazon caregiver feigned exasperation in her sigh, but she was radiant. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” She moved Lion out of the way and grabbed the tablet from its hiding place and punched a code in. “We’re going to have to go over some of these games this weekend. I do not like how some of these icons look.” I stood up and flashed her full puppy dog eyes. “But tonight?” Janet handed me the tablet back. “I’ve got a timer set for thirty minutes,” she said. “After that it’s locking you out and changing the code. Then it’s right to slumber town with you.” “But I can play?” I asked. She sighed. “Only because it’s a weekend.” Good enough for me. “Yay! Thank you, Mommy!” My Mommy shuddered in delight at hearing her self-given title come out of my mouth so earnestly. She’d conditioned herself far more than she’d conditioned me. “You’re welcome, baby boy.” I leaned forward and accepted the kiss so that she’d hurry out of the room. “Good night, Clark. I love you.” “Good night, Mommy,” I called back. There was a pause, but she flicked off the lights and closed the door. Half an hour. I had half an hour to do what needed to be done. Not because I’d be locked out of the device, but because Janet would surely double back to take it out of my hands once I’d had my playtime. I pressed the home key and backed all the way to the locked screen. Thanks to the parental controls, in half an hour the code would go from ‘1-3-5-7-9’ to a secret permutation that only Janet knew. Fine by me. I didn’t need it. There was a special code that Tracy hadn’t divulged to my teacher, my Auntie, or even my Mommy. One that only I knew. With deliberate slowness I pressed in the secret sequence. ‘1-0-5-6-5’. Alpha-numerically, if 1 and 0 were read as ‘10’, I would have just spelled out ‘J-E-F-E’. Tracy had wanted it to be B-O-S-S, but it was too many digits. The screen blinked, and then the tablet booted back up. This time, all of the games were gone and only three heretofore invisible insignias remained: In my hands, I had an internet browser and a VPN and a settings app to turn my tablet into a wireless hotspot. I held my breath as I tapped on the icons and saw the spinning loading signal. A second later, the browser opened. Fingers trembling I typed in the web address. ‘Mistuhgwiffin.net.’ It loaded! For several seconds I just stared at the glowing screen, gazing in happy disbelief. No longer would my sources of information, my knowledge, or my voice be confined to what Janet or the others shared with me or decided what was worth listening to. Now I could communicate incognito with Littles on the other side of the crib bars. Listen to rumors. Give warnings. I could do more than just wish and hope and plan. I could do more than wait for openings and opportunities. I could coordinate. I could create my own opportunities. I could stretch myself out so much farther than the Oakshire Elementary Maturosis and Developmental Plateau Class or the local Little Voices meetings. I was back!
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  9. I wrote this with the help of AI. What would normally have taken me weeks to write took me hours. It was a fun experiment and feel this story has a lot of ways to go. The interesting thing was fixing it be in the right tense and person. Either way, love to hear feedback. Here is the first bit. Let me know peoples thoughts and if I should continue it. Chapter 1. [Boyfriend] I woke up with such a headache. My head was pounding and I was struggling to even remember why. I sat up and all the blood rushed to my head making the headache amplify by a thousand. With the onslaught of blood to my brain brought all the memories of last night. We decided it would be a good idea to do shots of tequila at the bar. Like the old saying goes, one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor. I vaguely remember throwing up in the parking lot and Laura driving my car back to my apartment. The rest is pretty fuzzy. I stretched extending my arms and legs out as far out as I could and in doing so heard a crinkling sound. I looked down and saw that I was wearing nothing but a diaper. Upon closer inspection, a very wet, very pink, and very puffy diaper. The diaper itself wasn't a big deal. I had been wearing diapers off and on for a few years enjoying the feeling of wearing then and sleeping in them on occassion when I was by myself. The difference here was I had never wet the diaper without intentionally doing so. I also didn't remember putting it on last night. Lastly, this was one of those things I kept to myself and never talked about to anyone. I went to push the covers off and that is when I started to panic. I went to push the covers off and realized I was wearing a pair of mittens that forced my hands in to a fist making my hands almost useless. They were designed to keep prying hands immobile in case someone couldn't keep their hands off their diaper. I knew this beacuse I bought them off Etsy after stumbling upon them one day. I was instrigued with the idea and bought them immediately. The problem is its almost impossible to put them on without help. It is however, absolutely impossible to engage the locking mechanism without help since your hand are effectively useless once they are on and you don't lock them until they are actually on. Needless to say, I had never gotten to really use them before. "Oh fuck!! Oh fuck!! Oh fuck!!" I said very loudly as I hopped out of bed. I put one of my hands in between my legs, closed my legs and tried to pull the mitten off. They wouldn't budge. It was on VERY securely. I tried again with the other hand and recevied the same results. I then tried to take the diaper off at least but since I didn't have use of my fingers or hands I ended up just punching myself in the groin. I started to panic even more. The total time from waking up to my ephiphany felt like it had been a few minutes but in reality it was probaly no more than 30 or 45 seconds. As I am processing all of this, Laura walks in the bedroom holding a cup of coffee and wearing a big ass grin Laura is my girlfriend. We have been together for a little less than two years. We met at a bar and for me it was love at first site. Laura is an avid athlete. She ran track in college, runs 3 or 4 Olympic triathlons every year, and goes hiking all the time. She is also a joy to be around. She is my ride or die partner. Always down for an adventure and the type of girl who will hold your hair while you puke your guts out from drinking too much tequila. She is also incredibily smart and perceptive. She has this ability to gain trust and influence with anyone she meets. If you take that and combine her ability to read people, work a room, and her patience it is obvious to see why she I am head over heels in love with her. However, when you are standing in front of her in nothing but a diaper and she isn't saying a fucking word it isn't awesome. Laura took a sip of her coffee and just stood there saying nothing. The silence was killing me and so I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. "I would kill for a cup of coffee!" I said. Laura looked at me, still wearing her big ass grin, and extended her cup of coffee signaling for me to take it. I didn't think in my current predicament I could hold a cup of coffee let alone drink any of it without spilling it and possibly burning myself. "If I take it I will spill it all over me!" I said. "We definitely don't want that" Laura said again grinning. Laura was clearly not going to help me here. I knew there was a lot to talk about but I seriously needed out of this very wet diaper and I also had to pee. Just thinking about it was causing me to shift my weight from one foot to the other constantly. "I have to pee!" I told Laura. Laura took another sip of her coffee and look at my diaper and then back me. "It looks like you have already done a lot of that" she said while stifling a laugh. "This isn't funny" I told her. "I think that depends on perspective" Laura said. "Just help me out here before I have an accident." I said as calmly as I could. "How much do you remember from last night?" Laura asked me. "Not much after the bar" I told her. "Interesting" Laura said coyly. "Come on just tell me" I said in desparation as I was moments away wetting the diaper again. "I think we should go sit down and talk about it." Laura said gently. "I first need to pee and get out of this diaper." I told her exasperated. Laura chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "Alright, alright," she said. "But before we discuss escape routes, there's something we need to talk about." Her voice softened a touch. "Remember on the way home from the bar how you were talking about you wanting to be a little more… submissive sometimes?" Recognition dawned on your face. There had been a conversation, fueled by tequila and whispered secrets, about exploring power dynamics in the bedroom. I vaguely remembered confessing a secret enjoyment of diapers, a childhood comfort I never quite outgrew. "Yeah," I mumbled, cheeks burning with a mixture of shame and a strange anticipation. "I, uh, I might have mentioned that." Laura's smile widened. "Well, as your ever-supportive girlfriend," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "I made you a promise." She tapped the wet diaper with a finger. "You wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't made me promise not to leave this little guy friend on you until you confessed everything about your… fascination." I groaned, the weight of your predicament hitting you all at once. The dampness against my skin was no longer just uncomfortable, it was a constant reminder of my vulnerability. The mittens, a playful purchase now felt like shackles. "But Laura," I pleaded, voice strained, "I can't even hold a coffee cup! And besides, I swear I have to pee like right now!" Laura's smile softened a touch. "Alright," she conceded, "accidents happen, even to big boys in diapers. But," she wagged a finger playfully, "we'll have to change you out of this one before we can have a proper chat about last night, wouldn't we?" A flicker of hope sparked in your eyes. Maybe there was a way out of this, a chance to explain yourself before facing further humiliation. "Really?" you asked, voice barely a whisper. "Of course," Laura said, her voice gentle now. "Come on," she gestured towards the bed, "let's get you cleaned up. Then, we can talk." Your gaze darted down to the offending article of clothing – the pink diaper, now straining uncomfortably against your skin. Shame burned your cheeks hotter than the wetness seeping through. Beside it sat the matching pink mittens, a constant reminder of your drunken confession and bizarre request. You needed to explain yourself, to confess the secret desires that fueled your love for diapers. But the words stuck in your throat, choked by a paralyzing fear of rejection. "Laura," you croaked, your voice thick with a mix of desperation and embarrassment. "This is ridiculous. Please, just take these mittens off. I need to use the bathroom, and I can't explain anything like this." Laura knelt beside you, her gaze holding a mixture of concern and a strange intensity. "I know this is uncomfortable," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "but you promised, remember? You wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't begged me to keep you diapered until you confessed everything about your… fascination." Her voice softened on the last word, devoid of judgment. A surge of panic constricted your chest. "But Laura," you pleaded, "I can barely hold it anymore! Don't you see I'm serious? Can't we just talk after I use the bathroom?" "We can talk now," she countered, her gaze unwavering. "You promised, and besides," she added, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, "I wouldn't want you ruining another perfectly good diaper before we even get started, would we?" Frustration bubbled over, fueled by the growing pressure in my bladder and the weight of your unspoken secret. "This isn't funny!" I snapped, my voice strained. "I'm not a child! Take them off, or I swear I'm going to…" The threat died on my lips as a warm sensation spread across my backside. Shame flooded me as I realized I'd lost the battle against my own bladder. Laura sighed, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "See," she said, her voice calm but firm, "accidents happen. Even to big boys in pink diapers. But," she added, a playful glint returning, "that doesn't change the deal. We still need to talk." Chapter 2 The weight of the wet diaper felt like a physical manifestation of defeat. Tears welled up in my eyes, a mixture of frustration, fear, and a strange sense of vulnerability I couldn't explain. Looking at Laura's determined face, I knew there was no escape. The conversation I dreaded, the one that could change everything, was finally about to begin. The tears blurring my vision made it hard to meet Laura's gaze. Shame gnawed at me, a raw confession clawing its way out of my throat. "It started in high school," I mumbled, voice thick with humiliation. "I… I liked the feeling of diapers, the comfort, the… vulnerability." I choked on the word, the truth hanging heavy in the air. Laura listened patiently, her expression a mix of curiosity and something more. "Vulnerability?" she echoed softly. "Yes," I continued, voice barely a whisper. "It was like a… secret world. Something nobody else knew about." I described the on-and-off relationship with diapers throughout high school and college, the periods of indulgence followed by guilt-fueled purges. "But this wasn't just about the feeling," I confessed, voice barely audible. "There was… there was a part of me that liked being forced to wear them. Like having someone else make the decision." I blurted out the truth about the pink mittens, the dark fantasy they represented. "I bought them online, imagining being… made to wet myself. I never thought it would actually happen." A tense silence filled the room. I stole a glance at Laura, bracing yourself for rejection. But her expression surprised me. There was no disgust, no anger, just a deep curiosity. "Anything else?" she asked gently, her voice laced with concern. I met her gaze for a fleeting moment, then looked away. The truth burned on my tongue, a secret too dark to share, even with her. "No," I lied, the word hollow in the quiet room. Laura's gaze held mine, a knowing glint in her eyes. I could practically feel her seeing through the flimsy lie, but she didn't press it. "Alright," she said finally, a sigh escaping her lips. "This is a lot to take in. But for now," she continued, her voice softening, "let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Relief washed over me, a temporary reprieve from the emotional onslaught. But as Laura began to remove the wet diaper, a sliver of fear wormed its way back into your heart. This confession might be just the beginning. I knew, deep down, that the secret you still held close was the real key to understanding your desires. And I wasn't sure if I was ready to unlock that door, not even for Laura. The conversation might have started, but the real journey into my hidden world had only just begun. A flicker of hope sparked in my eyes as Laura rose from the bed. Maybe, just maybe, this ordeal was over. Maybe I could explain everything later, after I'd showered and regained a semblance of normalcy. But my hope died a quick death as I saw Laura head towards the closet, not the bathroom. Panic clawed at my throat. "Wait!" I blurted, the word laced with desperation. "Where are you going?" Laura turned, a fresh diaper in hand. "To get you cleaned up, of course," she said gently, her voice laced with amusement. "No!" I protested, my voice rising in a squeak. "I mean, not like that! I thought… I thought you were going to take these things off!" I gestured frantically at the pink mittens, the symbol of my forced confinement. Laura's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Honey," she said, her voice soft but firm, "I know you're scared. And I know there's more you're not telling me." Her gaze held mine, unwavering. "No, there isn't!" I lied, the word tasting like ash in your mouth. Laura sighed. "Look," she said, kneeling beside you again. "I'm not going to pressure you to tell me everything right now. But we can't just pretend this didn't happen. So, how about a compromise? You stay in diapers for the day, the pink ones," she added, a playful glint in her eyes, "until you're ready to be completely honest with me. Then, and only then, will we talk about taking these things off." The idea of being stuck in diapers all day, the pink ones a constant reminder of my helplessness, filled me with a surge of frustration. This wasn't supposed to happen! I threw my arms around, knocking over a glass of water on the nightstand. "No! This is ridiculous!" I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes again. "I can't stay like this!" Laura reached out, her touch surprisingly firm as she grasped your shoulders. "Actually," she countered, her voice surprisingly calm, "you can. And deep down, isn't this part of what you secretly wanted?" I flinched at her words, the truth stinging like a slap. A tiny voice inside you whispered a shameful confirmation. But I refused to acknowledge it. "No! It's not!" I denied vehemently, pushing her hands away. Laura didn't argue. Instead, she quickly removed the wet diaper. However, this time, she left the pink mittens firmly secured on my hands. Shame burned my cheeks as she cleaned you up, the vulnerability raw and exposed, amplified by the restriction of the mittens. "Alright," she said, fastening a fresh pink diaper around me. "Why don't you go wait in the living room while I get some more coffee?" The thought of leaving the safety of the bed, venturing out into the open while diapered and defenseless, filled me with terror. I shook my head stubbornly. "No. I don't want to go anywhere." Laura stood up, a hint of exasperation flickering across her face. "Look," she said, her voice firm, "we both know you can walk. So, either you go to the living room, or you can stay here and face the consequences." The implication hung heavy in the air. This wasn't a request, it was an order. Heat flooded my cheeks as I realized the truth of her words. This, the forced compliance, the helpless dependence, might be the very core of my secret desire. But I couldn't admit it, not even to myself. Defeated, I pushed yourself off the bed, the plastic crinkling beneath a constant reminder of my predicament. As I started to shuffle towards the living room, Laura's hand landed on my backside with a sharp smack. A yelp escaped my lips, more from surprise than pain. "That," Laura said, her voice devoid of anger but laced with a hint of amusement, "was for the water glass and the tantrum. Now, go." The spanking, a I only fantasized about with the impossible addition of the mittens, sent a jolt through me. Shame and a strange flicker of… something else, warred within me. I bit my lip, the unspoken desire a heavy weight in my gut. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so much I craved to experience. But the words wouldn't come Defeated and still buzzing from the spanking, I shuffled into the living room, the plastic crinkle of the diaper a constant reminder of my predicament. Laura followed close behind, a determined glint in her eyes. Just as I settled onto the couch, the shrill ring of her phone pierced the tense silence. Laura glanced at the screen, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "It's Sarah," she sighed. "Says she needs a ride home." My stomach lurched. Sarah, your friend who was with you both at the bar last night. The friend who probably knew nothing about your drunken confession and newfound diaper predicament. "She went home with some guy," Laura continued, her voice laced with concern. "Apparently, it didn't work out, and now she's stranded." A wave of relief washed over me, tinged with a pang of guilt. Maybe this was my chance to escape further interrogation. But Laura's next words dashed that hope. "Look," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "I know this isn't the best timing, but I can't leave her hanging. This conversation isn't over, but I need to go get her. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" Before you could protest, she knelt beside you, reaching for the pink mittens. Relief flooded you as she unbuckled the straps, the symbol of forced helplessness finally removed. "I love you," she whispered, her lips brushing your cheek. "And when I get back, we're going to talk about everything. Everything." With a final squeeze of your hand, Laura stood up and headed towards the door. But then, something unexpected happened. Laura paused at the closet, her gaze flickering to you for a fleeting moment before disappearing inside. A muffled rustle reached your ears, followed by the sound of the door closing again. Confused, I watched as she hurried out the door, leaving you alone in the living room. The weight of my secret desires, momentarily forgotten, was replaced by a new mystery. Why did Laura go back into the closet? And why did she take an extra diaper with her? As the minutes ticked by, my mind raced. Was Laura planning on continuing this… experiment even while she was gone? The thought sent a jolt through me, a mixture of fear and something strangely exhilarating, bubbling in my gut. The conversation might have been put on hold, but with that extra diaper in her purse, you knew one thing for sure: this was far from over. Chapter 3 [Laura] I pulled up to Sarah's building, the frustration from the interrupted conversation simmering beneath the surface. Sarah practically tumbled out of the apartment building, a sheepish grin plastered on her face. "Laura, you are a lifesaver!" Sarah exclaimed, throwing her arms around Laura in a hug. "I am so, so sorry for dragging you out like this." "It's alright," I mumbled, returning the hug halfheartedly. "Just glad you're safe." "Seriously, though," Sarah continued, pulling back and grasping Laura's hands. "I owe you big time. How about brunch to make it up to you?" I hesitated for a moment, then a small smile tugged at my lips. Maybe some pancakes would be good right about now. "Alright," I agreed, "brunch it is. But you're paying." As we settled into a cozy booth at a nearby diner, Sarah's curiosity got the better of her. "So," she began, swirling the coffee in her mug, "what happened after we left the bar? I saw your other half was pretty hammered." I took a sip of my coffee, my mind flashing back to the scene in the apartment, the pink diapers, the helpless vulnerability in his eyes. "Yeah, he was a mess," O admitted, choosing the words carefully. "Actually, he had a bit of a… revelation last night." Sarah's eyes widened. "A revelation? Spill the tea, girl!" I chuckled, a hint of nervousness in my voice. "It's… it's a little complicated. We haven't really talked about it fully yet." Just then, Sarah's gaze flicked down to Laura's purse, which was resting on the table beside her. "Hey," Sarah said, a curious glint in her eyes, "what's that sticking out of your purse?" My's heart lurched. I glanced down and saw the unmistakable corner of the extra diaper peeking out from the open compartment. A wave of heat flooded my cheeks. There was no way I could explain that to Sarah, not now, not ever. "Oh, that's… uh…" I stammered, desperately searching for an excuse. Inspiration struck in the form of her ever-present purse clutter. "Just some… feminine hygiene stuff," I blurted out, quickly reaching down and shoving the diaper further into the depths of my purse. Sarah's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh, alright," she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Just girl code, I guess." I forced a smile, relief washing over me as Sarah turned her attention back to her pancakes. The secret of the extra diaper was safe, for now. But as I glanced at Sarah, a mischievous thought flickered across my mind. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a chance to share this little secret with Sarah someday. After all, what were friends for? But for now, I had a much more pressing issue to deal with – unraveling the mystery behind the revelation of these hidden desires and navigating the uncharted territory of my boyfriend's newfound kink. The conversation might have been interrupted, but I knew, with a newfound sense of determination, that it was far from over. I just hoped I was prepared for wherever this diaper-clad journey might lead. The low hum of the engine filled the car as I pulled away from Sarah's apartment building. Glancing down at the diaper peeking out from my purse once more, a wry smile touched my lips. This whole situation with mt boyfriend was turning out to be far more complicated – and intriguing – than I ever could have imagined. Reaching for my phone, I dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he picked up, his voice thick with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. "Hey," he mumbled, the simple greeting laced with unspoken questions. "Hey yourself," I replied, my voice warm. "Just finished up with Sarah. Brunch was good." "Uh-huh," he replied, a barely audible question hanging in the air. "So, what are you going to do now?" "Well," I said, drawing out the word, "I think I'm going to head home, shower, and maybe… take care of a few things." My voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken implication heavy in the silence. He chuckled nervously, a blush creeping up his neck. "Right," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Sounds like a plan." There was a comfortable pause on the line, both of us dancing around the topic of our earlier encounter. Finally, I spoke again. "Why don't you come over to my place a little later tonight?" I suggested. "We can… continue our conversation." "Yeah," he agreed eagerly, relief flooding his voice. "That sounds good. See you then." "See you then," I echoed, a playful glint in my voice. "And babe" "Yeah?" "Try not to get into any more trouble before I get there, okay?" He let out a nervous laugh. "No promises," he admitted, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between us. I chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "We'll see about that," I said before hanging up. A smile, tinged with a nervous excitement, played on my lips as I ended the call. The conversation about his secret desires might have been interrupted, but judging by his tone, it was far from over. Tonight, I knew, he would finally have the chance to fully explain his… fascination, and explore the strange new world of diapers we both seemed to be hurtling towards. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a mixture of fear and exhilarating anticipation. This evening, I was determined to create a safe space for him to be honest, to shed the layers of secrecy and explore the desires that burned beneath the surface. The journey into his hidden world was about to begin, and I couldn't wait to see where it would lead. Chapter 4 [Laura] As I pulled away from Sarah's place, a new mission bloomed in my mind. The extra diaper in my purse felt more like a challenge now, a dare to delve deeper into this unexpected kink unfolding between us. I grabbed my phone and I Googled "adult diaper stores near me." A place called "The Diaper Depot" popped up, conveniently located on my way home. Perfect. With a slight flutter of nerves, I pulled into the parking lot of the store. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and entered a world of plastic crinkling and baby prints. A friendly woman with a nametag reading "Lisa" approached me with a warm smile. "Can I help you find anything today?" she chirped. "Uh, yeah," I stammered, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "I, uh, need some diapers." Lisa's smile widened. "Absolutely! We have a great selection for all needs. Are you looking for daytime or overnight protection?" "Actually," I blurted out, surprising myself with honesty, "they're not for me. They're for my boyfriend." Lisa's smile faltered slightly, then recovered with a knowing nod. "Ah, I see," she said gently. "What kind of diapers is he looking for? We carry a wide variety, from briefs to pull-ups to…" I felt a wave of panic. What kind of diapers were we looking for? This whole thing was moving way too fast. Sensing my distress, Lisa offered a reassuring smile. "Is your boyfriend an adult baby, or more of a diaper lover?" she asked delicately. Completely lost, I furrowed my brow. "Adult baby? Diaper lover? What's the difference?" Lisa chuckled softly. "Well, some people enjoy the feeling of wearing diapers and the feeling of being babied. Others are more focused on the physical restriction and, well, the… cuteness factor of adult diapers with baby prints and characters." Suddenly, the lightbulb clicked on in my head. I reached into my purse and sheepishly pulled out the rogue diaper. Lisa's eyes widened in understanding. A playful smile spread across her face as she ushered me towards a display case overflowing with brightly colored adult diapers adorned with a menagerie of animals – playful elephants, cuddly pandas, and curious koalas. "These are our most popular designs for those who enjoy the babyish look," she explained, holding up a package with a parade of zoo animals across the plastic. As we delved deeper into the world of adult diapers, a wave of nervous excitement washed over me. This was all so new, so unexpected. But seeing the variety of options, the openness with which Lisa discussed it all, calmed my apprehension. "Honestly," Lisa said, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper, "it's all perfectly normal. Some people like the security and comfort of diapers. Others enjoy the feeling of being looked after. There's also a subset who enjoy the power dynamic, the feeling of being dominated or helpless." Her words struck a chord. The way his eyes had lit up when I mentioned the consequences, the way his defiance crumbled when I spanked him… maybe there was more to it than just the diapers themselves. Taking a deep breath, I confessed my newfound realization. "I think… I think there might be some of that too," I admitted, feeling my cheeks burn. "He mentioned mittens earlier…" Lisa's smile widened knowingly. She pointed to a section of the display case I hadn't noticed before. There, nestled amongst the colorful animal-printed diapers, were a pair of soft, pink mittens. And right next to them, a curious contraption: a plastic diaper cover in a matching shade of pink, complete with a magnetic lock on the front. "This is a locking diaper cover," Lisa explained, sensing my curiosity. "It uses magnets to keep the diaper securely fastened. Hospitals use them sometimes to prevent patients from removing their diapers." The idea sparked a fire in my mind. This could be the perfect solution! I could still allow him to use his hands, but he wouldn't be able to tamper with the diaper itself. A delicious blend of control and vulnerability simmered in my gut. Thanking Lisa profusely for her expertise, I walked out of the Diaper Depot with a newfound confidence and a shopping bag full of supplies: a case of the most adorable animal-printed diapers I could find, and the intriguing pink locking diaper cover. "Thanks, Lisa," I said, handing her my card as we reached the door. Pulling into my driveway, a nervous thrill danced in my stomach. This little shopping spree had been impulsive, exhilarating, and a bit terrifying all at once. Grabbing the bag from the passenger seat, I practically skipped to my front door, eager to examine my newfound treasures. Inside my apartment, I tossed the bag onto the couch and ripped it open with a flourish. The first item I retrieved was the package of diapers. It wasn't the babyish kittens I'd initially considered, but a design that caught my eye – a parade of colorful zoo animals: a playful elephant with a mischievous grin, a cuddly panda munching on bamboo, and a wide-eyed koala clinging to a branch. Perfect, I thought, a touch of whimsy without being overly childish. Tearing open the plastic packaging, I unfolded a diaper. It was thicker than I expected, a soft, absorbent material encased in a crinkly plastic shell. Across the back, a menagerie of the same zoo animals frolicked in a repeating pattern. A small tab on the front held the diaper securely closed. Curiosity piqued, I peeked inside. More absorbent material, designed to be ultra-leakproof. A slight blush crept up my cheeks as I imagined my boyfriend swaddled in these, a vulnerable dependence washing over me. Carefully placing the entire package – ten diapers in all – beneath the sink in the bathroom, I reached back into the bag. The second item was the intriguing locking diaper cover. This wasn't the sterile white contraption I'd envisioned. This one was a soft, bubblegum pink, the plastic surprisingly pliable yet secure. Running along the front was a series of magnets, strategically placed to line up with a corresponding metal clasp. A sense of delicious power surged through me as I imagined my boyfriend securely diapered, unable to tamper with his situation without my help. The key to the magnetic lock was a small, silver rectangle attached to a thin plastic cord. A perfect size to dangle from my keychain, I thought, a mischievous glint in my eyes. Fishing a key ring out of my purse, I looped the magnetic key next to my house key. The weight felt oddly comforting, a symbol of the control and care I was about to take on. With a satisfied smile, I tucked the pink locking diaper cover next to the package of zoo animal adorned diapers, both hidden beneath the bathroom sink, waiting for their moment to be unveiled. The anticipation simmered as I stashed the diaper supplies away. A quick shower washed away the day's remnants, and I emerged feeling refreshed and a touch daring. Slipping into a pair of comfortable jeans and a worn-in t-shirt with a band logo that he always teased me about, I tackled the apartment with renewed energy. First up was the living room. Armed with a feather duster, I waged war on the dust bunnies that had taken refuge under the couch and behind the bookshelves. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the swirling motes of dust as they danced in the air before succumbing to my cleaning wrath. With a satisfied grunt, I surveyed the battlefield – the vanquished dust bunnies lay defeated in the vacuum cleaner's belly, and the once-hazy air shimmered with newfound clarity. Next came the kitchen. A quick glance at the fridge revealed the usual hodgepodge of leftovers and questionable science experiments in Tupperware containers. Tonight called for something special, something that hinted at the unexpected turn our relationship had taken. Grabbing my phone, I pulled up a grocery delivery app. With a few taps and swipes, I curated a menu that felt both playful and indulgent – cheesy garlic bread, a simple pasta salad bursting with colorful vegetables, and a decadent chocolate lava cake for dessert. Hitting "confirm order," I leaned back against the counter, a satisfied smile playing on my lips. The doorbell chimed, jolting me out of my thoughts. The groceries had arrived with impressive efficiency. Unpacking the bags, I reveled in the cheerful burst of color from the fresh vegetables and the intoxicating aroma of the garlic bread. Tonight's dinner was going to be a feast for the senses, a prelude to the even more decadent exploration that awaited us later. With the groceries safely tucked away, I turned my attention to the rest of the apartment. The bathroom received a quick scrub-down, the towels replaced with fresh ones. Back in the living room, I straightened the throw pillows on the couch and dimmed the lights, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. Just as I finished fluffing the throw pillows, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text from filled the screen. Hey beautiful, what are you up to tonight? Dinner and a movie? Or something more adventurous? A sly smile played on my lips. He knew exactly what kind of adventure we were both hinting at. The stolen glance at his earlier "accident" had ignited a spark, and this unexpected turn of events was fanning it into a full-blown fire. He might have mentioned movies, but our conversation this afternoon had left a lot of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. We both knew a movie night wasn't what was on either of our minds. Taking a moment to craft my response, I tapped out a message that was both playful and suggestive. Cooking up a little surprise for dinner. Come around 6, grab some drinks on your way, and we can finish our conversation... in more ways than one. Leaving the ending open-ended, I knew he'd catch my drift. The image of his face lighting up with understanding, the unspoken excitement hanging heavy in the air – that was a thrill all on its own. The evening stretched before me, full of possibilities, and I couldn't wait to see where this unexpected journey would take us. As I hit send, a nervous flutter danced in my stomach, a delicious blend of anticipation and apprehension. Tonight, we were going to explore a new facet of our relationship, and a part of me wondered if I was truly prepared for what lay ahead Chapter 5 [Boyfriend] Hunger gnawed at my stomach as I pulled into Laura's driveway. The afternoon's conversation had left me a tangled mess of emotions – excitement, nervousness, and a hefty dose of shame for springing the diaper incident on her. Opting for comfort over anything fancy, I threw on a pair of jeans and a well-worn t-shirt. Grabbing a case of drinks I snagged on the way, I headed for her door, a knot of anticipation tightening in my gut. The scent of garlic and herbs hit me the moment I stepped inside. Laura, her back to me, hummed along to some upbeat music as she stirred something colorful in a pan. The sight of her in her element, bathed in the warm glow of the kitchen light, calmed my racing heart a touch. Placing the drinks in the fridge, I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She jumped slightly, then melted into my embrace, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. The air crackled with unspoken words. A playful tension hung between us, both of us unsure how to breach the subject on everyone's mind. Stepping back, I grabbed a can of sparkling water from the fridge and popped the top. Awkward silence filled the space as I took a seat at the kitchen table. Laura continued her culinary endeavors, occasionally glancing my way with a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher. Conversation flowed, albeit a bit stilted. We talked about work, the upcoming weekend plans, anything to avoid the elephant in the room. All the while, I kept stealing glances at her, hoping, yearning for her to bring up the diapers. But she remained frustratingly silent. Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I cleared my throat. "Laura," I began, my voice thick with apprehension, "can we talk about… earlier?" She nodded, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before it schooled itself back into neutrality. My heart thumped in my chest, a drumbeat against my ribs. "Look," I blurted out, hating how shaky my voice sounded, "I, uh, I've been thinking a lot about everything. And I just… I'm so sorry. I should have talked to you about it first, not just sprung it on you like that." Shame burned in my throat, acrid and bitter. "I know it was weird, and confusing, and frankly, pretty messed up of me." The apology tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the image of Laura across the table. Taking a shaky breath, I buried my face in my hands, the weight of my stupidity pressing down on me. The words tumbled out of my mouth, a torrent of regret and shame. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the image of Laura across the table. Taking a shaky breath, I buried my face in my hands, the weight of my stupidity pressing down on me. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I flinched, bracing myself for rejection, but Laura's voice, soft and reassuring, washed over me. "Hey," she murmured, her touch light and comforting. "It's okay. Really." I peeked through my fingers, searching her face for any sign of anger or disgust. Instead, she wore a soft smile, her eyes filled with a warmth that sent a calming tremor through me. "But it's not," I mumbled, voice choked with emotion. "It was weird. I freaked you out." "Maybe a little," she admitted, a playful glint entering her eyes. "But mostly, I was surprised." I frowned, unsure what to make of her answer. Was she just trying to be nice? "Surprised?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. "You weren't… horrified?" Laura sighed, a hint of exasperation creeping into her tone. "Look," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "seeing you like that… it was unexpected, yes. But honestly? It kind of turned me on." My head snapped up, confusion warring with a flicker of hope in my chest. "Turned you on?" I stammered. "But… the diapers…" "The diapers," she interrupted, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "are an interesting proposition." She paused, letting the weight of her words hang in the air. "But right now, I'm more interested in seeing you like this – vulnerable, honest." My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in response to her words. Part of me, the part that still clung to shame, couldn't quite believe it. Was she really okay with all this? The other part, the part that had dreamt of exploring this secret desire with her, pulsed with a mix of excitement and terror. Laura's smile faded, replaced by a playful sternness. "So," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument, "you either believe me, or I put you in a diaper right this instant." Panic surged through me. The idea of being diapered, of surrendering control to Laura, sent a jolt of electricity through my core. But the thought of her being repulsed by my desires, of shutting down this unexpected exploration before it even began, was even more terrifying. In that moment, caught between fear and a strange, exhilarating mix of desire and vulnerability, I knew exactly what I had to do. Laura's words hung in the air, a challenge both thrilling and terrifying. Part of me, the cautious, logical part, still shrieked in protest. This was crazy, impulsive, a complete departure from everything I knew. But the other part, the part that had dreamt of exploring these hidden desires, whispered possibilities, a world of secret pleasures waiting to be unraveled. Stealing a glance at Laura, I saw not disgust or judgment, but a spark of curiosity and, dare I say, excitement, dancing in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, I decided to take a leap of faith. "Okay," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Okay, you win. But…" I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "I… I need to understand. What do you want to know?" A satisfied smile spread across Laura's face. "Start at the beginning," she instructed gently. "Tell me how all this… diaper stuff… started." My cheeks burned, a blush creeping up my neck. How did I even begin to explain this? "Well, it was a long time ago," I stammered, desperately searching for the right words. "High school, actually. I remember seeing a diaper commercial on TV, and something about it just… clicked." The memory was hazy, a distant echo of a time when these desires were a secret shame, hidden away in the deepest recesses of my mind. Back then, it was just a spark – a fascination with the image of someone swaddled in soft, absorbent material. I'd spend hours reading articles online, anything I could find about diapers. The feeling was strange, a mix of comfort and a strange sense of vulnerability that I couldn't quite explain. "At first, it was just curiosity," I continued, my voice barely a whisper. "But then, I started noticing things. Like, whenever I saw a baby in a diaper, it would… I don't know, do something to me." My cheeks burned even hotter, the confession tumbling out in a rush. "And then there were the commercials, the way they emphasized the feeling of security, of being taken care of." The words felt raw, exposed, but a strange sense of relief washed over me as I spoke them aloud. Laura listened intently, her expression unreadable. Taking a shaky breath, I pushed on, my voice barely above a whisper. "Finally, in college, I decided to… to experiment. I ordered a pack of adult diapers online, and…" Shame threatened to engulf me again, but I forced myself to continue. "The feeling of being wrapped up in them… it was… overwhelming. A sense of comfort, of being little again, but also…" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "It opened up a whole new world of feelings, desires I never knew I had." My confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Had I gone too far? Would Laura understand, or would this be the end of everything? Stealing a glance at her, my heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic tattoo. Her expression remained unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher. But to my surprise, a single word escaped her lips, a word that sent a jolt of electricity through me. "Continue," she murmured, her voice soft yet firm. "Tell me everything." My voice dropped to a barely audible mumble as I continued. "It's hard to explain," I confessed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again. "The diapers... they made me feel... submissive. Like a little kid again, needing to be taken care of. There was this strange comfort in that, a release of control." My eyes darted around the room, unable to hold Laura's gaze. "But it was more than that too. The vulnerability... the feeling of being completely dependent... it was... arousing." The last word hung in the air, a shameful admission. But as I spoke, a weight seemed to lift from my chest. These were things I'd never dared articulate, not even to myself. For years, they'd existed as a secret fantasy, a hidden desire that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. "And then there was the punishment aspect," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "The idea of being scolded, maybe even spanked... it... it added another layer of excitement. The humiliation, the loss of control... it became part of the whole thing." Shame warred with a newfound sense of liberation. I felt exposed, raw, yet strangely exhilarated by finally admitting these desires. Hesitantly, I glanced at Laura, bracing myself for judgment. "Until this morning," I stammered, a touch desperate for reassurance, "I'd never... never actually wet a diaper. Or had someone else change it." My voice dropped to a near inaudible level. "And when you swatted me... it was... almost too much. I..." A blush crept up my neck, burning my cheeks. "I almost..." The words wouldn't come out. But the truth hung heavy in the air, a silent confession. Laura's reaction to the swat had sent a jolt through me, a rush of unexpected pleasure that had left me teetering on the edge. Silence filled the room, thick and expectant. Would she understand? Would she be disgusted by this dark side of my desire? My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in my chest. And then, Laura spoke, her voice a gentle whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "Tell me more," she murmured, her eyes holding a spark of unexpected interest. "Tell me everything you fantasize about." Laura's cheeks flushed a rosy pink, but her eyes remained steady. "I changed your diaper, didn't I?" she countered, a hint of amusement in her voice. Think you can handle a little more honesty?" There was a playful edge to her words, but also a subtle warning. This wasn't a one-way street; she was in on this too. Shame washed over me again, hot and prickly. "You're right, of course," I mumbled, my voice thick with apology. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have hesitated." Taking a deep breath, I plunged back into the deep end. "Fantasies," I began, my voice still shaky. "There have been... a few. Like, you putting me over your knee. Pulling my pants down, spanking me..." My cheeks burned, but I continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Maybe even with your... that wooden hairbrush you keep in your purse." A shiver ran down my spine at the image. The next confession felt like a leap of faith. "And... being forced to wear a diaper in public. Maybe to the store, or even on a walk. I don't know if I could actually go through with it," I admitted, "but the idea..." My voice trailed off, the thrill and humiliation of the fantasy warring within me. Laura listened intently, her expression unreadable. A million questions swirled in my head. Was this too much? Would this be the end of everything? Finally, she spoke, her voice a low rumble. "Is that all?" she asked, a hint of amusement creeping into her tone. "Just spankings and diapers?" Relief washed over me, mingled with a flicker of disappointment. "Well, there's more," I admitted, hesitantly. "But I don't know..." "Tell me," she urged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What if I put you in timeout? Grounded you like you were a little kid? Would that be… interesting?" The idea hung in the air, a new twist on the already swirling vortex of desires. Grounded? Timeout? The image that popped into my head was childish, yet undeniably arousing. "Maybe," I stammered, my voice laced with uncertainty. "I… I'm not sure." A hint of frustration flickered across Laura's face, quickly replaced by a playful sternness. Her hand, which had been resting on the countertop, drifted down to her hip, brushing against the familiar weight of her purse. "Well," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument, "we can explore that uncertainty. But if you keep holding back like this, maybe you'll need a little reminder of who's in charge here. Perhaps a swat on that cute little soon-to-be-diapered butt will help jog your memory?" The playful threat hung in the air, laced with a hint of something more. A delicious shiver ran down my spine. This wasn't just about exploring my desires anymore. This was about exploring Laura's too, about the power dynamic that had shifted between us. And as I looked into her eyes, the amusement sparkling there mixed with a newfound dominance, I knew I was in for a night that would be far more exciting, and a touch more daring, than I ever could have imagined. Chapter 6 [Laura] The air crackled with a raw vulnerability I hadn't anticipated. Here I was, the normally composed Laura, completely captivated by his whispered confessions. This submissive side of him, the way his voice hitched when he spoke of dependence and control, it ignited a spark within me I hadn't known existed. Dominance. It wasn't a word I readily used, but the truth was, I'd always harbored a bit of a secret desire for it. The thought of him over my knee, struggling against my hand as I delivered a firm swat, sent a delicious thrill through me. "Is that everything?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Part of me wanted him to keep going, to delve deeper into these hidden fantasies. Another part, a more cautious side, worried about overwhelming him. He shook his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I can't think of anything else, right now at least." Taking a deep breath, I decided to accept that for now. There would be time to explore further, to unravel more layers of his desires. But for now, there was a different emotion gnawing at me. Disappointment. "Two years," I said, my voice flat. "It took you two years to tell me any of this?" The sheepish grin vanished, replaced by a look of pure panic. "Laura, I'm so sorry! I… I was ashamed, embarrassed. I didn't think you'd understand." His apology was a little too eager, a little too practiced. It rubbed me the wrong way. "Don't you think that's a bit insulting?" I snapped, a touch of frustration creeping into my voice. "Do you really think I wouldn't accept you, quirks and all?" He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Look," I said, my voice firm but gentle, "I love you. And what you just told me… it might be a little strange, a little unexpected, but I accept it. Hell, I'm kind of excited about it." A relieved smile spread across his face, melting some of the tension in the room. But I still needed a moment. This whole conversation had been a whirlwind – a rollercoaster of emotions that left me needing to catch my breath. "I need to finish dinner," I announced, forcing a smile. "And honestly, I need a few minutes to process all of this." His smile faltered slightly, a flicker of concern flickering in his eyes. "Okay," he mumbled, standing up a little too quickly. A mischievous glint entered my eyes. This exploration of desires went both ways, didn't it? "Actually," I said, my voice taking on a playful edge, "you're going to be spending those few minutes in timeout." Confusion clouded his face. "Timeout?" "Exactly," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. Walking over to him, I grabbed his arms, surprising him with my sudden assertiveness. "On your feet, mister." He stood awkwardly, his eyes wide with surprise. I guided him towards the corner of the kitchen, a playful smile on my lips. "Stand right there," I commanded, positioning him facing the wall. Crossing his arms behind his back, I gave his butt a few gentle pats. "Now, you are not to move an inch for the next twenty minutes. Consider it a little taste of what's to come." Setting the timer on my phone, I winked at him. "Twenty minutes," I announced, turning back towards the stove. As I stirred the sauce, a delicious thrill danced through me. This wasn't just about diapers and confessions anymore. This was about control, about exploring the dynamic that had just shifted between us. And with a smile playing on my lips, I knew this was just the beginning. I stirred the simmering sauce, a satisfied smile playing on my lips. The revelations of the evening had been a heady mix – surprising, exhilarating, and a touch unsettling. Yet, beneath the initial shock, a thrill of anticipation simmered. This newfound knowledge about my boyfriend, this vulnerability he'd finally exposed, had ignited a spark within me I hadn't known existed. My mind drifted back to his confession, picturing him in a diaper, standing meekly in the corner. A pang of regret, unexpected and sharp, pierced through me. He was in timeout, yes, but wouldn't the humiliation be tenfold if he were swaddled in plastic, his vulnerability amplified? The image sent a jolt of heat through me, a delicious mix of dominance and possessiveness. I could practically feel the soft plastic beneath my hand, hear the satisfying smack of a well-placed swat. Shaking my head slightly, I forced myself to focus. The food wouldn't cook itself, and besides, a little delayed gratification never hurt anyone. With renewed focus, I checked the simmering dish, my smile returning. Almost done. Time to set the table. As I pulled out plates, a flicker of movement in the corner caught my eye. My boyfriend, ever so slightly, was shifting his weight, his crossed arms no longer fully behind him. A playful frown creased my forehead. Rules were rules, after all. Picking up a wooden spoon from the counter, I strolled over to him, a playful glint in my eye. Before he could react, I delivered a sharp swat to his backside. A gasp escaped his lips, his body jolting slightly. "Hands back up, mister," I commanded, my voice firm yet playful. "Stay still. Nose in the corner. Twenty minutes haven't passed yet, you know." He mumbled an apology, scrambling to straighten himself back up, a sheepish grin battling with the sting on his backside. I watched him for a moment, the playful glint in my eyes turning into a hint of something more – a promise, perhaps, of what was to come. With a satisfied nod, I returned to the table, setting the plates and cutlery. The food was ready, the timer buzzing insistently. Tonight, I thought, dinner wouldn't be the only thing served. A delicious anticipation bubbled in my stomach as I called out, "Alright, timeout's over. But dinner comes with a side of discipline, wouldn't you say?" Chapter 7 [Boyfriend] The sting from the spoon lingered on my backside, a sharp reminder of my transgression. It wasn't painful, but it was a jolt, a current that sent a surprising thrill through me. Maybe it was the unexpectedness, or maybe it was the dawning realization that even a minor punishment turned me on. Ugh, this whole situation was a confusing mess of emotions. "Side of discipline?" I echoed, turning from the corner. The playful edge to Laura's voice sent shivers down my spine, a mix of apprehension and anticipation. "But you just put me in timeout." Laura raised an eyebrow, her expression playful yet firm. "Twenty minutes in the corner hardly makes up for two years of holding back, does it?" she countered. Shame washed over me again, hot and prickly. My lips parted to form another apology, a desperate plea for forgiveness. But before the words could escape, Laura cut me off. "Look," she said, her voice softening slightly, "I love you. And I accept you, diapers and all. But honestly, I'm tired of apologies. Tonight, we're exploring this new side of things, together." Her words were a mix of reassurance and challenge, and a delicious thrill shot through me. Together. This wasn't just about her controlling me; it was about us exploring a hidden part of our relationship. "So," she continued, a playful smirk gracing her lips, "after dinner, you'll be on dish duty. Consider it a first taste of what's to come." The image of me, in whatever fate awaited me, scrubbing dishes while Laura watched, sent a blush creeping up my neck. This wasn't quite how I imagined the evening unfolding, but a strange sense of excitement bubbled within me. Dinner first, discipline later. It seemed like a fair compromise, at least for now. With a resigned nod, I pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Laura dished up our dinner, placing a steaming plate in front of me. As we began to eat, an unspoken tension hung in the air, a delicious current of anticipation that promised a very different kind of dessert later that night. [Laura] I watched with quiet satisfaction as my boyfriend tucked into his dinner. The conversation flowed easily, a comfortable mix of mundane details – Sarah's brunch obsession with bottomless mimosas, the never-ending battle against dust bunnies in their tiny apartment. It felt almost normal, a stark contrast to the raw vulnerability they'd shared earlier. But beneath the surface, a delicious tension simmered. He knew what was coming. The playful swat with the spoon had been a mere taste, a prelude to the real discipline waiting for him. As we finished the meal, I cleared away the empty plates, stacking them neatly in the sink. He offered to help, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "Actually," I said, a sly smile playing on her lips, "there is one thing I forgot to mention about those dishes." He paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. This was it. The moment the playful dominance shifted into something more. "You'll be doing them," I continued, my voice a low murmur, "with no pants on. And in a diaper." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise rolled into one. His eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck. There was a flicker of apprehension, yes, but also a spark of something else – an undeniable turn-on, a delicious thrill of surrendering control. I watched him, captivated by the way his emotions played across his face. This wasn't about punishment, not entirely. It was about claiming a new kind of intimacy, a vulnerability that went beyond whispered confessions. It was about exploring a secret part of him, and a secret part of myself. "So," I said, voice soft yet firm, "ready to get started, little one?" His mouth worked silently, a strangled protest forming on his lips. However, I left no room for argument. "This is happening," I said, a playful yet firm edge to my tone. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, but I could see the flicker of something else in his eyes – a reluctant acceptance, a tremor of excitement warring with nervousness. It was a look that both frustrated and titillated me. Leaving him for a moment, I marched purposefully to the bathroom cabinet, retrieving a diaper and some baby powder. I wasn't sure why I'd bought the powder – a strange, domestic impulse – but it felt oddly fitting in the moment. Returning to the kitchen, I grabbed his hand, a playful tug that sent a jolt through him. "Living room," I announced, leading him through the apartment. He stumbled slightly, his body already anticipating the vulnerability to come. In the living room, I guided him down to the plush carpet, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat radiating from my touch. With practiced ease, I unbuckled his belt and waistband, a slow, deliberate movement that had him squirming beneath my gaze. The zipper hissed down, and I slid his pants down his legs, the fabric pooling around his ankles. A surge of heat flooded his face as he felt the cool air kiss his exposed skin. "Seems like someone's excited," I purred, her voice a husky whisper right next to his ear. He mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting nervously between me and the discarded pants. Then, his eyes landed on the diaper I held. It wasn't the same pink one he'd seen me take earlier. This one was a surprise. It was a crisp white, but decorated with a playful pattern of colorful jungle animals – elephants, zebras, and lions with friendly smiles. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a surge of heat. This wasn't what he'd expected, but a strange sense of anticipation bubbled within him. The familiar mix of fear and excitement intensified, a cocktail of emotions that left him breathless. I saw the surprise in his eyes and smirked knowingly. I let her fingers trace a slow path from his exposed chest down to his stomach, causing him to squirm underneath her. Then, with movements as smooth as silk, I slid the new diaper underneath him. [Boyfriend] The diaper felt oddly comforting against my bare skin, its soft, plastic surface providing a layer of unexpected warmth. The baby powder Laura generously applied clung to him like a second skin, its scent – a sweet combination of lavender and vanilla – enveloping them in an intoxicating cloud. My senses were amplified, every touch and scent magnifying the intimacy of the moment. My eyes met Laura's again as she proceeded with the next step. Her fingers brushed against me as she gently pushed my hardness down and folded over the diaper. The contact sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me and I couldn't help but gasp at the sensation. It was held firmly in place by the diaper, encapsulated in this new world that we were exploring together. Suddenly, the tape was ripped off the plastic, making a sharp noise that echoed in the silent room. My heart pounded in anticipation as Laura carefully sealed me inside the diaper. She smoothed out any creases expertly, her fingers gliding across the playful jungle pattern that adorned it. I was acutely aware of every touch, every movement – all building up an intensity I had never experienced before. Finally sealed in, I looked down and saw myself encased in white plastic decorated with friendly animals he had seen only on children's shows before. The sight sent another surge of heat coursing through my body a strange cocktail of innocent charm and adult desire that left me breathless. Laura looked at him then, her eyes twinkling with mischief and satisfaction. This was a new adventure for them. One filled with unexplored sensations and experiences—and I knew we wouldn't trade it for anything else. As I rose from the floor, the thick, crinkly diaper Laura had just fastened around my waist felt almost suffocatingly bulky. Each movement was accompanied by a distinct waddle, the padding between my legs forcing me to take slow, deliberate steps. With every waddle towards the kitchen, the feeling of the thick diaper pressing against me became more pronounced, the plastic shell rustling loudly with each shuffle. It was a constant reminder of my newfound vulnerability, a physical manifestation of the punishment I had earned for keeping my secret from Laura for so long. As I entered the kitchen, Laura's warning hung heavy in the air. Her hand came down with a sharp pat on my diapered bottom, sending a jolt through me. "You better do a good job in here," she cautioned, her voice laced with a hint of sternness. The combination of the thick diaper and Laura's warning filled me with a mix of embarrassment and determination. I rolled up my sleeves, feeling the padding between my legs shift uncomfortably as I began to tackle the mess in front of me. With each dish washed and each surface wiped clean, the crinkle of the diaper seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the rhythm of my own thoughts. Laura's warning echoed in my mind, driving me to work harder, to prove myself worthy of her trust. By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen, the feeling of the thick diaper had become almost second nature, the constant rustle of plastic a familiar companion. And as I shuffled back to Laura, ready to face whatever consequences awaited me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in my accomplishment. Despite the discomfort and the embarrassment, I knew that this was a step towards redemption, towards earning back Laura's trust and rebuilding our relationship on a foundation of honesty and openness. And as Laura's hand came down with another pat on my diapered bottom, I knew that I was one step closer to becoming the partner she deserved. Chapter 8 [Laura] As I stood in the kitchen doorway, a mixture of pride and uncertainty swirled within me. My boyfriend had done an amazing job cleaning the kitchen, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for his efforts. The countertops sparkled, the dishes gleamed, and the floor was spotless – a testament to his diligence and commitment. Suppressing the urge to let out a sigh of relief, I reminded myself to stay composed. This was uncharted territory for both of us, and I needed to tread carefully. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, I returned to the living room, where my boyfriend awaited my inspection. Handing him a beer with a smile, I praised him for his hard work. "You did an incredible job cleaning the kitchen," I said, sincerity lacing my words. "I'm impressed." As he accepted the beer with a grateful nod, I couldn't help but notice the mix of emotions flickering across his face. Uncertainty, perhaps, mingled with a hint of anticipation. And beneath it all, I sensed a vulnerability that mirrored my own. Taking a seat beside him on the couch, I struggled to keep my emotions in check. The idea of exploring my dominance and his submissiveness was undeniably enticing, but it also brought with it a wave of apprehension. This wasn't how I had envisioned our relationship unfolding, and the thought of delving deeper into this uncharted territory left me feeling both exhilarated and hesitant. But as I glanced at my boyfriend, his eyes brimming with trust and affection, I knew that I couldn't let my fears hold me back. We had both taken a leap of faith by confronting our desires head-on, and now it was time to see where that journey would lead us. Squeezing his hand gently, I offered him a reassuring smile. "Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For everything." As we sat together in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. But beneath it all, there was a sense of possibility, of newfound connection. And as I sipped my beer, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. As the evening stretched before us, I turned to my boyfriend with a smile, ready to suggest a plan for the rest of the night. "How about we take it easy?" I proposed, warmth infusing my words. "We can stay in, watch a movie, and just enjoy each other's company." But to my surprise, my boyfriend's response wasn't quite what I expected. With a hint of hesitation, he voiced his concern about staying in his diaper for the rest of the night. "I'm not sure if I can stay dry," he admitted, a note of worry in his voice. I couldn't help but smirk at his sudden resistance. "Well, that sounds like a personal problem," I teased, my tone playful yet firm. "You wanted to explore this side of our relationship, remember? Now you have to deal with the consequences." His frustration was palpable as he protested, insisting that he didn't want to wet his diaper again. But deep down, I sensed a hint of reluctance mingled with his resistance, as if a part of him was secretly intrigued by the idea. With a soft chuckle, I reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Relax," I said gently, my voice tinged with amusement. "It's just a diaper, and accidents happen. Besides, we can always change you if need be." As his expression softened, a flicker of understanding passed between us. This wasn't just about diapers or wetting them – it was about exploring new boundaries, pushing past our comfort zones, and discovering new facets of our relationship. And as we settled in to watch our chosen movie, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. Whatever the night held in store for us, I knew that we were in it together – navigating this uncharted territory as partners, lovers, and confidants. As the movie played on the screen, casting flickering shadows across the room, we settled into a comfortable rhythm, sipping our beers and losing ourselves in the storyline. But about halfway through the movie, I noticed my boyfriend becoming increasingly fidgety beside me. At first, I thought nothing of it, assuming he was simply adjusting his position or getting restless from sitting too long. However, as his movements grew more pronounced, a nagging suspicion crept into my mind. Could it be that he needed to use the bathroom? As he started to rise from the couch, I couldn't help but interject, my curiosity piqued. "Where are you going?" I inquired, my voice laced with a mixture of amusement and concern. His sudden restlessness had caught me off guard, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Turning to face me, he hesitated for a moment, his expression a mixture of discomfort and embarrassment. "Uh, just... need to use the bathroom," he muttered sheepishly, avoiding my gaze. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched him squirm. It seemed my suspicions had been correct all along. But rather than letting him off the hook, I decided to remind him of his current predicament. "Oh, no you don't," I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Remember, you're wearing a diaper tonight. Sit back down and enjoy the movie." As he sank back onto the couch, the unmistakable sound of the diaper crinkling filled the air, a constant reminder of his current state of vulnerability. The noise seemed to hang in the air for a moment, a tangible reminder of our unconventional evening. Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, I couldn't help but notice the slight flush of embarrassment that tinted his cheeks a deeper shade of red. Suppressing a smirk, I shifted my gaze back to the screen, determined to enjoy the remainder of the movie. But beneath the facade of nonchalance, a thrill pulsed through me, fueled by the realization of the power dynamics at play. With each crinkle of the diaper, I felt a renewed sense of control, a heady rush that left me eager to explore this newfound territory even further. As the movie continued to play, I couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in my boyfriend's demeanor. His fidgeting had grown more pronounced, his discomfort palpable even in the dim light of the living room. With each passing moment, it became increasingly evident that he was struggling to hold it in. I stole a sideways glance at him, catching the telltale signs of his internal struggle. His brows furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched tight. It was clear that he was fighting a losing battle against the inevitable. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tension, the moment arrived. A subtle shift in his posture, a barely perceptible release of tension, and then it happened – the unmistakable sound of liquid meeting plastic. I turned my head to look at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment, perhaps a sheepish admission of what had just occurred. But to my surprise, he remained silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the screen as if nothing had happened. Curiosity piqued, I shifted my focus to the diaper, expecting to see clear evidence of its use. But to my astonishment, it appeared barely even damp, a testament to its impressive absorbency. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of my lips as an idea began to form in my mind. If he wasn't going to acknowledge what had just transpired, then perhaps I would play along and see how long he could keep up the charade. Rising from the couch, I made my way to the kitchen, the crinkle of his diaper echoing in the quiet room. Retrieving two more beers from the fridge, I returned to the living room and handed one to him, making sure to meet his gaze with a knowing look. "Thirsty?" I asked, my voice laced with subtle amusement. He accepted the drink with a grateful nod, taking a long sip before settling back into the couch. But beneath the facade of nonchalance, I could sense a hint of uncertainty, a flicker of unease at the realization that I knew his secret. As we continued to watch the movie, I couldn't help but wonder how long he would be able to keep up the facade. But for now, I was content to play along, enjoying the thrill of our shared secret and the newfound dynamics it had brought to our relationship. [Boyfriend] As the movie rolled on, I found myself increasingly distracted by the uncomfortable sensation between my legs. The thick padding of the diaper pressed against me, reminding me of what I had just done – wetting myself like a child. Shame burned hot in my cheeks as I tried to focus on the screen, desperate to ignore the evidence of my humiliation. But with each passing minute, the discomfort only grew. The diaper, once soft and pliable, now felt heavy and swollen, the added weight a constant reminder of my lack of control. I could feel it clinging to me, the plastic shell crinkling with every movement, amplifying the sound of my shame. A part of me wanted to confess, to tell Laura what had happened and beg her to change me, to rid me of this humiliating reminder. But another part of me hesitated, held back by the fear of her reaction. Would she be angry? Disgusted? Disappointed? And then, to my astonishment, she returned with another beer, her smile warm and inviting. I accepted the drink with a grateful nod, my heart pounding in my chest. Did she know? Could she tell what I had done? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling in my stomach. As the movie played on, I struggled to focus, my mind consumed by conflicting emotions. I wanted to tell her, to confess my humiliation and seek her forgiveness. But the words caught in my throat, trapped by the weight of my shame. In the end, I remained silent, the secret of my wet diaper weighing heavily on my conscience. And as the night wore on, I couldn't shake the feeling that this newfound dynamic between us had opened a door to a world of uncertainty, where the lines between pleasure and shame blurred and the only certainty was the unpredictable nature of our desires. As the movie drew to a close, I couldn't ignore the relentless pressure building in my bladder. With Laura excusing herself to the bathroom, I seized the opportunity to discreetly relieve myself into the already damp diaper. The warmth spreading against my skin offered a momentary reprieve from the discomfort, but it was short-lived. When Laura returned and inquired if everything was alright, I attempted to brush off any concerns, assuring her that everything was fine. However, her keen eyes didn't miss the telltale signs of my soaked diaper. With a mixture of frustration and disappointment, she confronted me, demanding to know why I had lied to her. My heart sank as her words cut through the air like a knife. I struggled to find the right response, guilt gnawing at me for deceiving her. "I... I didn't want to admit it," I admitted sheepishly, unable to meet her gaze. Laura's expression softened, but there was an underlying tension in her features as she sighed heavily. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation. "How could you lie to me when it's so obvious that you've wet your diaper?" I hung my head in shame, knowing that I had let her down. "I'm sorry," I murmured, feeling utterly defeated. Her frustration was palpable as she paced back and forth, clearly struggling to process her emotions. "I just don't understand why you felt the need to hide it from me," she confessed, her voice tinged with hurt. "I guess I was embarrassed," I admitted, my cheeks burning with shame. "I didn't want you to see me like this." Laura's expression softened, and she took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "I get that it's not easy," she said gently, her tone more forgiving. "But we can't build a relationship on lies. We have to be honest with each other, especially about something like this." I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me at her understanding. "I know," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do better, I promise." With a nod of acceptance, Laura reached out to take my hand, offering me a reassuring smile. "That's all I ask," she said softly, squeezing my fingers gently. "We're in this together, remember? We'll figure it out, one step at a time." [Laura] I decided to discipline her boyfriend for lying, I wouldn't waver in this decision. Ignoring his protests about his full diaper, I firmly instructed him to go to timeout in the corner. Despite his discomfort, I remained resolute, adamant that consequences were necessary for his dishonesty. Leaving him to contemplate his actions, I headed into the bathroom to retrieve a new diaper and some baby powder. I returned to the living room and placed the diaper and powder on the table, the cool surface contrasting with the warmth of my resolve. Standing before him, I maintained a firm yet compassionate demeanor, ready to address the situation head-on. "Since you lied to me," I began, my voice firm but not unkind, "there are going to be consequences. I'm going to give you a spanking for your dishonesty, and then I'll put you in a fresh diaper." My boyfriend's expression softened as he realized the gravity of his mistake. With a nod of understanding, he accepted the consequences of his actions, silently acknowledging the importance of honesty in their relationship. I took my boyfriend out of timeout and led him to the center of the room. With a firm yet gentle grip, I positioned him across my knee, his wet diaper pressing against my thigh. I could see a wave of humiliation wash over him as he realized the vulnerable position he was in, with me poised to administer his punishment. As my hand made contact with his diaper-clad bottom, he winced, feeling the impact more as a sting to his pride than to his skin. With each subsequent spank, the humiliation intensified, tears welling up in his eyes as he realized the gravity of his actions. The sound of each smack echoed in the room, a stark reminder of his wrongdoing. By the eighth spank, he was openly crying, his apologies pouring out between sobs as he begged for forgiveness. My hand paused, my touch softening as I looked down at him with compassion. "I forgive you," I said gently, my voice carrying a warmth that enveloped him like a comforting embrace. "But you need to understand the consequences of lying. Next time, there won't be a diaper to soften the blow." I looked into my boyfriend's eyes, searching for sincerity. "Do you understand?" I asked, my voice soft yet firm. He nodded vigorously, tears still glistening in his eyes. "Yes, Laura, I understand. I'm sorry, and I promise I'll never do it again." With a final nod of approval, I delivered one more gentle spank to his diaper-clad bottom, a symbolic punctuation to the conversation. Then, I helped him up and laid him on the floor to change his wet diaper, the crinkling sound a reminder of the events that had transpired. Once his fresh diaper was securely fastened, I sighed wearily. "It's been quite a night," I remarked, exhaustion creeping into my voice. "I think it's time to call it a night." He nodded in agreement, hopefully understanding the need for rest after the emotional rollercoaster we just went on. I handed him his pants which he quickly put on, kissed him good night and then collapsed in to my bed.
    1 point
  10. @Little Lamb Thanks for the thoughts. I am going through it again and noticing what you're saying. I think I was so excited about how quickly and easily I was able to put initial thoughts to paper that I didn't pay attention to some of the things you are mentioning because they are in my head. Here is some more. I tried to get the tenses better and not as many plot holes. Lets see if you think it is any better. I won't be around for a while after this post but will pick it back up in a few weeks. Maybe then I can go in and redo some of it flesh it out. One thing about AI is so far it doesn't do a good job remembering previous context. Chapter 9 [Laura] It had been a week since that eventful evening with my boyfriend. We had talked things over, smoothed out the rough edges, but there was still this lingering weight on my mind, like a question left unanswered. I found myself torn between confiding in my best friend, Sarah, and seeking the counsel of someone more impartial, like Lisa from the Diaper Depot. Sarah was always there for me, but would she understand the complexities of the situation? Would she judge me for exploring this new dynamic in my relationship? On the other hand, Lisa had shown such understanding and openness when I stumbled into her store that day. She had normalized something that I had initially found bewildering and even a little scary. Maybe she could offer insights or advice without any preconceived notions about who I was or what I should do. With a sense of determination, I reached for my phone and dialed Lisa's number. As the call connected, I felt a surge of nerves mixed with anticipation. Maybe talking to Lisa would help me make sense of everything that had happened, and perhaps shed light on where I wanted to go from here. "Hi, Lisa? It's Laura," I said, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Laura! Of course, I remember you. How are you?" Lisa's voice came through the phone, warm and welcoming. "I'm doing okay, thanks. Listen, I was wondering if you'd be up for grabbing coffee sometime? I could really use someone to talk to," I said, hoping I wasn't being too forward. "Absolutely, I'd love to. I actually have some time in about an hour. Could we meet at the Diaper Depot and walk over to the coffee shop nearby?" Lisa suggested. "Sure, that works for me. I'll see you at the Diaper Depot in an hour," I confirmed. "Great, thank you so much, Lisa. Oh, and by the way, I really appreciated our conversation the other day. You were so helpful in explaining the whole ADL and AB thing. It's still a lot to wrap my head around, but it's definitely given me some perspective," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish about bringing it up again. "I'm glad I could help. It can be a lot to take in at first, but you're handling it really well," Lisa reassured me. "Yeah, well, it's been quite the journey," I chuckled nervously. "Actually, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about. It's kind of personal, but I trust your judgment." "Of course, Laura. You can talk to me about anything," Lisa responded, her tone gentle and reassuring. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before plunging into the heart of the matter. "So, you know how we discussed those different dynamics people have with diapers? Well, I've recently discovered that my boyfriend... he's into discipline. And it's stirred up a whole bunch of new feelings for me. I really need to talk to someone neutral about it, and you were the first person who came to mind," I confessed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as the words spilled out. There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and I held my breath, waiting for Lisa's response. "Wow, that's definitely a lot to process. I'm glad you reached out to me, Laura. It sounds like you're navigating some pretty complex emotions right now," Lisa replied, her voice filled with empathy. "Yeah, you could say that," I chuckled wryly. "I mean, I care about him deeply, but this whole diaper thing and discipline thing... it's a lot to wrap my head around. I just don't want to mess things up, you know?" "I understand completely. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, especially when you're exploring new territory in a relationship. But just remember, you're not alone in this. And it's perfectly okay to take things one step at a time," Lisa reassured me. "Thanks, Lisa. That means a lot," I said sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me. "No problem at all. I'll see you in an hour, okay? We'll grab that coffee and talk things through," Lisa said, her voice warm and supportive. "Sounds good. Thanks again, Lisa. See you soon," I replied, feeling a newfound sense of hope as I hung up the phone. Maybe talking to Lisa was exactly what I needed to help me navigate this new chapter in my relationship. As I entered the Diaper Depot, a familiar bell chimed overhead, signaling my arrival. Lisa, was just finishing up with another customer, her warm smile putting them at ease as they exchanged parting pleasantries. I couldn't help but overhear the tail end of their conversation as I approached the counter. "...I just don't know how to bring it up to him. What if he thinks it's weird?" the customer fretted, her voice laced with uncertainty. Lisa leaned forward, her expression sympathetic yet reassuring. "It's completely normal to feel nervous about broaching the subject, but communication is key. Maybe start by discussing your own feelings and desires, and see how he responds. You might be surprised." The customer nodded, gratitude evident in her eyes as she reached for the bag containing her purchase. "Thank you so much, Lisa. You've been incredibly helpful." "It's my pleasure. Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any more questions," Lisa replied warmly, her gaze lingering on the departing customer with a sense of satisfaction. As the customer made her way out of the store, Lisa turned her attention to me, a welcoming smile spreading across her face "Hey Laura, give me a second to close up the shop for lunch" "Sounds perfect," I agreed, feeling a sense of gratitude for her willingness to lend an ear. As Lisa finished tidying the counter and locking up the register, we made our way out of the store and onto the bustling street outside. As we walked toward the nearby coffee shop, the cool breeze offering a welcome respite from the heat of the day, I hesitated for a moment before diving into the heart of the matter. "Lisa, there's something I need to talk to you about. It's not just about diapers—it's about so much more." Lisa nodded, her expression attentive as she waited for me to continue. "It's about... well, it's about discipline, humiliation, and submissiveness," I confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I know it sounds strange, but my boyfriend has this... fascination with those things. And it's left me feeling completely out of my depth." Lisa's brow furrowed in thought as she processed my words. "I see," she said, her tone thoughtful. "It sounds like you've stumbled upon a complex aspect of human sexuality. It's not uncommon for people to be drawn to power dynamics, whether it's in the form of discipline, humiliation, or submission." I sighed, a sense of relief flooding through me at her understanding. "But what does it mean for our relationship?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "I want to support him and explore this side of our connection, but I'm not sure where to begin." Lisa placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, her gaze steady and compassionate. "It's understandable to feel overwhelmed by something new and unfamiliar. But remember, communication is key. Talk to your boyfriend openly and honestly about your feelings and concerns. Together, you can navigate this journey and discover what works for both of you." Her words resonated with me, offering a glimmer of hope amid the confusion. "Thank you, Lisa. I appreciate your insight and advice more than you know." As we settled into our seats at the cozy coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the soft murmur of conversation, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just dumped all my personal baggage onto someone I barely knew. It was time to remedy that. "Lisa," I began tentatively, stirring my coffee as I searched for the right words, "I've been talking so much about myself, but I realized I don't really know much about you. Tell me a bit about yourself." Lisa chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, let's see," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I'm single, I work at a diaper store, and apparently, I'm an unpaid therapist for a lot of people." Her self-deprecating humor caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Sounds like you've got quite the résumé," I quipped, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders. "Yeah, you could say that," Lisa replied with a wry smile. "But in all seriousness, I enjoy helping people navigate life's complexities, whether it's finding the perfect diaper or offering advice on matters of the heart." Her words struck a chord with me, reminding me of the support and understanding she had shown me since we first met. "Well, I'm certainly grateful for your help today," I admitted, offering her a sincere smile. "I don't know what I would have do without your guidance." "It's my my pleasure, Laura," Lisa replied warmly, her gaze meeting mine with genuine kindness. "Just remember, you're not alone in this. I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to." Taking a deep breath, I continued, "It's not just the diapers, you see. He likes them, sure, but it's more than that. It's the whole dynamic of power and control, the thrill of discipline and submission." I recounted the incident of putting my boyfriend in timeout, describing the rush of power I felt as I asserted my authority over him. The sensation was invigorating, almost intoxicating, and I found myself drawn to explore it further. "And then there was the moment when I made him wet his diaper," I added, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks at the memory. "It was such a stimulating feeling, knowing that I had that level of control over him." But it was the act of spanking him over his wet diaper that left me feeling conflicted. On one hand, I was satisfied with making my point and asserting my dominance. Yet, seeing him cry so deeply left me questioning my actions. "I was surprised by how hard he cried, even though I knew it didn't really hurt," I admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "Part of me was happy to make my point, but another part of me... I don't know how to feel about it." Lisa listened attentively, her expression thoughtful. After a moment of silence, she reached out and placed a reassuring hand on mine. "It's natural to feel conflicted, Laura," she said gently. "Exploring these dynamics can be intense and emotional, but what's important is that you're open and honest with yourself and your partner." "Were you angry when you put him in timeout?" Lisa asked. I found myself reflecting on the moments that had transpired, trying to untangle the complex web of emotions that accompanied them. "When I put him in timeout, I wasn't really angry," I explained, recalling the incident vividly. "I needed that moment to gather my thoughts, to assert my authority in a calm and collected manner." I recounted how, during the timeout, I had resorted to popping him on his bottom with a spoon when his hands didn't stay up as instructed. It was a subtle yet effective way of reinforcing my expectations, and the realization seemed to amuse Lisa. "Timeout can be surprisingly effective," Lisa remarked casually, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "When I spanked him, I was more focused on making my point than on expressing anger," I admitted, pondering Lisa's question. "But his reaction... it caught me off guard." I paused, searching for the right words to articulate my thoughts. "I think it was impactful because it was the first time he really expressed some genuine emotions," I speculated. "Up until that point, he had been so guarded, so reserved. But in that moment, the vulnerability he showed... it was both surprising and profound." I was overwhelmed and needed a break. "Tell me a little more about yourself" I aksed her. As Lisa shared her backstory, I listened with rapt attention, intrigued that one of her previous jobs was adult babysitting. "Wow, that's really fascinating," I remarked, genuinely impressed by her unique path. "So, you were a professional adult babysitter?" Lisa nodded, a hint of nostalgia flickering in her eyes. "Yes, I was," she confirmed. "It was an interesting experience, to say the least." Curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer, eager to learn more. "What made you decide to pursue that line of work?" I inquired, genuinely curious about her motivations. Lisa smiled, recalling her past with a mixture of fondness and reflection. "Well, I've always had a nurturing instinct, a desire to care for others," she explained. "And as I delved deeper into the world of adult babies and adult diaper lovers, I discovered a genuine passion for it." She paused, a wistful expression crossing her features. "But after a few years, I realized that I wanted to explore other avenues, to channel my expertise into something more... tangible." "And that's when you decided to open the diaper store?" I ventured, connecting the dots. "Exactly," Lisa confirmed, her smile widening. "I wanted to create a space where people could feel comfortable exploring their needs and desires, without judgment or stigma. And so, Diaper Depot was born." I marveled at her journey, impressed by her courage and entrepreneurial spirit. "It sounds like you've found your calling," I remarked, genuinely inspired by her story. Lisa nodded, her eyes sparkling with a sense of pride. "I like to think so," she admitted. "We sell a lot more than just adult diapers so I am able to pay the bills and still do waht I love" As we sat in the cozy confines of the coffee shop, enveloped by the warmth of our conversation, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with Lisa. In her, I had found not just a mentor, but a kindred spirit – someone who shared my passion for understanding and acceptance, and who embraced life's twists and turns with grace and resilience. And as we continued to share our stories and exchange insights, I knew that our connection was more than just a chance encounter – it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, forged in the fires of shared experiences and mutual understanding. As Lisa checked her watch, a hint of regret flashed across her features. "I hate to cut our time short, but duty calls," she said apologetically, rising from her seat. I mirrored her movements, standing up and offering her a warm hug. "Thank you so much for meeting me, Lisa. I really appreciate your insights and your willingness to listen," I expressed sincerely. Returning the embrace, Lisa smiled warmly. "Anytime, Laura. And remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm just a phone call away," she reassured me. With a final exchange of pleasantries, we began to part ways. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, a familiar figure caught my eye – Sarah, my best friend, walking into the coffee shop. "Hey, Laura!" Sarah called out, waving enthusiastically as she approached. "Hey, Sarah," I replied, a touch of hesitation coloring my voice. The atmosphere between us was slightly awkward, the unspoken tension palpable as I tried to figure out the best way to introduce Lisa. Sensing my hesitation, Sarah raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Who's your friend?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. I hesitated for a moment, my mind scrambling to come up with a suitable response. "Uh, this is Lisa. We met... around," I stumbled over my words, feeling the weight of Sarah's expectant gaze. Sarah's eyes widened in confusion, clearly picking up on my awkwardness. "Nice to meet you, Lisa," she greeted, albeit with a hint of skepticism, extending her hand in greeting. Lisa returned the gesture with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Sarah. It's always nice to meet a friend of Laura's," she replied graciously, though I could sense a flicker of amusement in her eyes. As we exchanged pleasantries, the awkwardness of the moment gradually increased. And as we parted ways, with Sarah heading into the coffee shop and Lisa making her way back to the Diaper Depot, I couldn't help but mentally kick myself for the less-than-stellar introduction. Chapter 10 [Lisa] As I walked briskly back to the Diaper Depot, my mind was still abuzz with the conversation I had just shared with Laura. She had been surprisingly candid about her recent experiences with her boyfriend, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of fulfillment knowing that I had been able to offer her some support and guidance. As I walked in the store to resume my shift, I found myself mentally reviewing the earlier conversation with Laura. Her openness about her boyfriend's interests had given me a lot to think about. I flicked on the lights and began tidying up the displays, still mulling over the complexities of human relationships and desires. Lost in thought, I didn't immediately notice Sarah entering the store. It was only when I saw her browsing the aisles, her expression one of curiosity mingled with confusion, that I realized she was there. I greeted her with a friendly smile, curious to see what had brought her in. "How do you really know Laura" Sarah asked. "Ah, Laura and I go way back," I replied, my tone casual yet tinged with curiosity. "We met through mutual friends a while ago and hit it off. She's a fascinating person, isn't she?" As Sarah's brows furrowed even deeper, her confusion seemed to deepen. Her next question caught me slightly off guard. "Did I... see a diaper in Laura's purse at brunch?" she ventured, her voice low with uncertainty. I paused for a moment, contemplating how to respond. "I'm not entirely sure," I admitted honestly, a hint of curiosity creeping into my own voice. "But knowing Laura, there could be any number of explanations." Sarah's eyes widened with surprise, her curiosity piqued even further. "An explanation for diapers?" she echoed, her tone laced with incredulity. "What possible reason could she have for buying diapers?" I offered her a gentle smile, though I couldn't help but share in her bewilderment. "That's a question you might want to ask Laura directly," I suggested diplomatically. "After all, it's her personal matter, and she'd be the best person to provide an answer." Sarah nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and lingering confusion. "I see," she murmured, her mind clearly whirring with questions. "Well, I hope Laura is doing okay. And I'm glad she has a friend like you to support her.", she said with a hint of sarcasm. I smiled warmly at Sarah's words. "Thank you, Sarah," I replied sincerely. "I'll be sure to pass along your well wishes to Laura. And if you ever have any more questions, feel free to ask. I'm here to help however I can." As Sarah persisted with her inquiries, her curiosity bordering on insistence, I couldn't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The delicate balance between maintaining Laura's privacy and addressing Sarah's concerns weighed heavily on my mind. Yet, as her questions persisted, it became clear that a direct approach was needed. "Well, Sarah," I began, my voice measured yet tinged with a hint of playful challenge, "perhaps the best way for you to understand is to experience it for yourself." Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, her initial shock quickly giving way to a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. "Wait, what?" she exclaimed, her tone a mixture of incredulity and uncertainty. "You... you want me to try on a diaper?" I nodded, my expression calm yet resolute. "Why not?" I countered, my voice carrying a note of conviction. "If you're genuinely curious about why someone might choose to wear them, experiencing it firsthand might provide some insight." Sarah hesitated, her gaze shifting between me and the rows of colorful packages lining the shelves. "I... I don't know," she stammered, her uncertainty palpable. "I mean, it's not exactly something I've ever considered." I offered her an encouraging smile, my demeanor gentle yet persuasive. "Just think of it as an experiment," I suggested, my voice infused with a touch of reassurance. "No pressure, no judgment. Just a chance to understand something from a different perspective." As Sarah continued to mull over my proposition, I could sense the wheels turning in her mind. Despite her initial reluctance, a flicker of curiosity danced in her eyes, betraying her intrigue. "Okay," she finally relented, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. "I... I'll give it a try." With that, I guided her over to the display of diapers, selecting a package adorned with colorful cartoon characters. As I handed it to her, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mingled with apprehension. This impromptu experiment was uncharted territory, but I hoped it would provide Sarah with the insight she sought. As Sarah hesitantly took the package from me, her expression a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation I pulled one of the diapers out of the package and grabbed Sarah by the hand. "What are you doing?" Sarah asked. As Sarah began to resist, her uncertainty turning into mild protest, I knew it was time to assert a firmer hand. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I delivered a firm smack to her backside, eliciting a surprised yelp from Sarah as she jumped slightly. "Relax, Sarah," I reassured her, my tone calm yet authoritative. "You wanted to understand, remember? This is part of the experience." With that, I guided her toward the back room, Sarah's hesitance palpable with each step. As we entered the room, in the corner was the changing table. The table's presence commanded attention, standing tall and sturdy. The changing table's surface was smooth and padded, inviting comfort for anyone lying upon it. I looked at the cushioned material, noting its plushness and resilience. This table was designed cradle the body, ensuring a soft landing during what could be a vulnerable moment. Guardrails encircled the changing surface, standing tall like sentinels of safety. Their purpose was clear: to prevent any accidental slips or falls, offering reassurance to both caregiver and recipient. Adjustable straps hung from various points around the table, their nylon lengths dangling with purpose. They seemed poised and ready, waiting to be fastened securely around the individual in need... in this case Sarah. I directed her to lie down on the changing table, the surface sturdy beneath her as she complied. Moving with practiced efficiency, I quickly secured the straps, ensuring Sarah remained in place. "There we go," I said, my voice calm yet reassuring. "Now, let's get you diapered up" As Sarah lay on the changing table, her mild resistance evident in the way she shifted slightly, attempting to free herself from the confining straps, I couldn't help but admire her curiosity, tinged with just a hint of trepidation. With a gentle yet firm hand, I adjusted the straps, ensuring she remained securely in place. It wasn't every day that someone willingly subjected themselves to such an unusual experience, and I couldn't deny a sense of anticipation at guiding Sarah through this uncharted territory. With the soft swish of the container, I retrieved the baby powder, Sarah's eyes widening in surprise at the sight of it. "Is really necessary?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and uncertainty. "It's all part of the process," I replied with a reassuring smile, sprinkling a generous amount of powder onto the diaper before gently spreading it across the surface. The scent of talcum filled the air, its comforting aroma mingling with the faint scent of anticipation. As I unfolded the diaper, the crinkle of plastic seemed to echo in the room, a tangible reminder of the transformation that was about to take place. With practiced ease, I positioned the diaper beneath Sarah, the soft padding cradling her as I fastened it snugly in place. Each movement was deliberate, methodical, as if imbued with a sense of ritualistic significance. The process of diapering Sarah was both intimate and oddly impersonal, a delicate balance between practicality and symbolism. With each fold and tuck, I couldn't help but marvel at the way Sarah's demeanor seemed to shift, her initial uncertainty giving way to a sense of quiet acceptance. Yet, despite the routine nature of the task, there was an undeniable sense of intimacy in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the trust Sarah had placed in me. With each gentle touch, each reassuring word, I sought to convey a sense of safety and reassurance, guiding Sarah through this unfamiliar experience with patience and understanding. "There we go," I announced, my voice infused with a touch of satisfaction as I secured the final tab of the diaper in place. "All done." As Sarah slowly sat up, the faint crinkle of the diaper serving as a reminder of the transformation she had undergone, I couldn't help but feel a sense of quiet pride. This impromptu experiment had offered Sarah a glimpse into a world that was often misunderstood, and I hoped it would foster a greater sense of empathy and understanding. "Umm.......thank you, Lisa," Sarah said, her voice tinged with a hint of gratitude as she adjusted to the sensation of the diaper beneath her. "I... I never would have expected to find myself in this situation" As Sarah left the store, her diapered bottom receiving a playful swat, I couldn't shake the rush of memories that flooded back with her departure. Diapering her had been more than just a spontaneous act; it had been a glimpse into a past life, a reminder of the unique connection I had once shared with those I had cared for. As I watched Sarah disappear down the street, a pang of worry gnawed at my thoughts. What would Laura think of my impromptu diapering session with her friend? Would she be upset? Angry? Confused? The uncertainty left a knot of apprehension twisting in my stomach, a silent reminder of the potential consequences of my actions. Unable to shake the lingering sense of unease, I reached for my phone, my fingers hesitating momentarily before typing out a message to Laura. "Hey Laura, just a heads up – Sarah might be reaching out to you soon. We had a little... chat at the store. Hope everything's okay." With a sigh, I hit send, the weight of my actions lingering in the silence that followed. Only time would tell how Laura would react to the news, but for now, all I could do was wait and hope for the best. Chapter 11 [Laura] My heart skipped a beat as Sarah's voice echoed through the phone, her words hitting me like a sudden gust of wind on a hot summer's day. Why was I at a diaper store? How did she know about Lisa? The questions swirled in my mind, leaving me flustered and caught off guard. "Uh, Sarah, I..." I started, my voice wavering as I struggled to find the right words to explain myself. But before I could formulate a coherent response, Sarah's next words stopped me dead in my tracks. "A diaper? In your purse?" Her tone was incredulous, a mix of disbelief and confusion that mirrored the whirlwind of emotions churning within me. How could she have seen it? Was it really that obvious? As Sarah continued, recounting in vivid detail her unexpected encounter with Lisa and the subsequent diapering experience, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The image of Sarah lying on the changing table, helpless and diapered, sent a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of the unexpected turns life could take. "I... I don't know what to say," I finally managed to stutter out, my mind racing to process the flood of information Sarah was throwing at me. Lisa had diapered her? In the back room of the store? And now she was stuck in it until she got home? The implications of Sarah's revelation hit me like a ton of bricks, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. What had Lisa done? And more importantly, how was I going to explain this to her? With a deep breath, I forced myself to focus, pushing aside the panic threatening to consume me. "S-Sarah, I... I'll explain everything. Just... just give me a moment," I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and uncertainty. This was far from the conversation I had expected to have with Sarah, but it was one that couldn't be avoided. With a sinking heart, I braced myself for the difficult task ahead, knowing that honesty was the only way forward. As I thought about Sarah's recounting of the bizarre encounter with Lisa, my mind raced with a flurry of thoughts, each one more bewildering than the last. How could I possibly explain the situation without sounding completely unhinged? "S-Sarah," I began, my voice faltering slightly as I tried to find the right words to convey the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Last weekend... well, something happened with my boyfriend." As I recounted the events of that fateful night, the memories flooded back with startling clarity, each detail etched in my mind like a vivid snapshot frozen in time. The way he stumbled through the door, his words slurred and his eyes glazed with alcohol. The drunken confession, whispered in hushed tones as he begged me to indulge his most secret desires. And then, the surreal image of him standing before me, clad in nothing but a diaper and a pair of mitts, his vulnerability laid bare for me to see. "It was... unexpected, to say the least," I continued, my voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. "He showed me his diapers and asked me to... to put him in one. And then, he wanted me to lock his hands in mitts so he couldn't take them off." The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by the sound of my own racing heartbeat as I waited for Sarah's response. Would she understand? Would she judge me for indulging in such unconventional desires? With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I braced myself for whatever might come next. "And... and the next morning, we were talking about it," I added, my voice barely above a whisper as I struggled to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling within me. "Before I had to leave to go pick you up." As the words hung in the air, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, uncertain of how Sarah would react to the bombshell I had just dropped. Would she be shocked? Disgusted? Or would she understand, offering a sympathetic ear and a comforting shoulder to lean on? Only time would tell, but one thing was for certain: my world would never be the same again. "Wow!" Said sarah. As Sarah's stunned silence stretched on, I found myself enveloped in a moment of contemplative silence, the weight of her single word "Wow" hanging heavily in the air. It was as if the gravity of the situation had intensified with each passing second, amplifying the sense of incredulity that lingered between us. "Yeah," I replied with a rueful chuckle, a nervous undertone betraying my attempt at levity, "it's been quite the rollercoaster lately." Sarah's eyes widened in a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, her expression a canvas of unspoken questions waiting to be unraveled. "So, let me get this straight," she began tentatively, her voice laced with uncertainty, "your boyfriend... wears diapers?" "Sometimes I guess" I said, the weight of the admission settling heavily on my shoulders. "Yeah," I confirmed, my tone tinged with a mixture of resignation and bewilderment, "but there's a bit more to it than just that." The air between us seemed charged with a palpable tension, thick with unspoken inquiries and a shared sense of perplexity. Sarah's next question, however, took me by surprise, catching me off guard in its unexpectedness. "Wait, Laura," she queried, her voice tinged with a hint of incredulity, "do you... wear diapers too?" A surprised laugh bubbled up from within me at the sheer absurdity of the notion. "Oh, no," I replied quickly, shaking my head in amusement, "definitely not. I'm more on the clean-up crew, if you will." Sarah's eyes widened in response, her expression a mixture of shock and curiosity. "You mean..." she began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words, "you actually change his diapers?" "I guess" I said, a wry smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yeah," I admitted, the admission carrying a weight of resignation and humor all at once, "it's certainly been an unexpected turn of events." As the reality of the situation settled over us like a heavy blanket, Sarah's next question hung in the air, pregnant with curiosity and a hint of incredulity. "But why?" she ventured cautiously, her voice laced with genuine perplexity, "I mean, how did you end up in a situation like this?" The question gave me pause, prompting me to reflect on the whirlwind of events that had led me to this point. "Well," I began slowly, carefully choosing my words, "He came over later that night after our bruch..." I launched into a detailed account of the events that had unfolded. Sarah listened intently, her expression a mixture of disbelief and fascination as she absorbed the tale. When I finally finished, a pregnant pause filled the air, thick with unspoken questions and lingering disbelief. "So, let me get this straight," Sarah began slowly, her voice tinged with uncertainty, "you put him in timeout... and then you spanked him?" I nodded sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks at the admission. "Yeah," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but it was kind of necessary, you know?" Sarah's voice went up an octive in shock, her tone a mirror of my own incredulity. "Wow," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, "I never would have imagined..." Sarah agreed to come over later that evening, a mix of relief and anticipation flooded through me. It was comforting to know that I wouldn't be navigating this newfound territory alone, and having Sarah's support meant more to me than I could express. However, as I prepared to hang up the phone, a sense of urgency washed over me, prompting me to issue a stern warning to Sarah before parting ways. "Listen, Sarah," I began, my tone serious, "this stays between us, okay? No one else knows about this besides Lisa, and I'd like to keep it that way." Sarah agreed solemnly, her tone mirroring my own determination. "Of course, Laura," she reassured me, her voice firm, "your secret's safe with me." But I wasn't finished yet. "And one more thing," I added, a mischievous glint dancing in my eyes, "if you even think about breathing a word of this to anyone, you might just find yourself in the same predicament as my boyfriend." Sarah's eyes widened in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and amusement. "You mean... timeout?" she ventured tentatively, a nervous laugh bubbling up from within her. I chuckled. "That, and maybe a little something more," I teased, my voice laced with playful menace, "I do have a hairbrush in my purse, after all." Sarah's laughter filled the air, the tension of the moment dissipating in a cloud of nervous amusement. "You're joking, right?" she asked incredulously, her tone tinged with uncertainty. "Guess you'll have to find out," I replied cryptically, a playful smile playing at the corners of my lips, my voice dripping with mock seriousness, "if you step out of line." With that, we exchanged one final laugh before saying goodbye. Sarah stormed into my apartment, her intenesity palpable in the air, I could feel my heart sinking with every step she took. She didn't waste a moment before launching into her tirade, her words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Laura, what the hell?" she exclaimed, her voice sharp and accusatory, "Why didn't you tell me about your boyfriend's... thing? And then you bring Lisa into it like it's no big deal? What were you thinking?" Her anger struck me like a blow to the gut. It was a reminder that my actions had not only hurt Sarah but had also affected our friendship as a whole. I felt a lump forming in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "I'm sorry, Sarah," I choked out, my voice trembling with emotion, "I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared, I guess. I didn't know what to do or say" My words hung heavy in the air, the weight of my guilt pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. Sarah's expression softened slightly at the sight of my tears, her intensity giving way to a flicker of empathy. "Laura, I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret, "I shouldn't have come in here so hot. I know you're going through a lot right now, and I should have been more understanding." Her apology caught me off guard, washing over me like a wave of relief. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, feeling a glimmer of hope begin to stir within me. "It's okay, Sarah," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, "I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I don't know why I didn't." Sarah reached out and enveloped me in a warm embrace, her arms wrapping around me like a shield against the storm. "We all make mistakes, Laura," she whispered, her voice gentle, "What matters is that we learn from them and move forward together." As Sarah's words settled in the room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of incredulity and amusement at the unexpected turn of events she described. Suppressing a smirk, I responded to her comment about mistakes with a playful taunt, "Well, we all make mistakes, don't we? Like letting Lisa put you in a diaper." Sarah's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her gaze dropping to the floor as she sheepishly admitted, "I... I only went into the store to figure out why you were being so coy with me." I nodded understandingly, feeling a pang of sympathy for her plight. "I see," I murmured, my mind racing to make sense of the bizarre situation, "And then what happened?" Sarah's recounting painted a vivid picture of her unexpected ordeal, the image of her being strapped onto the changing table and diapered by Lisa sending a ripple of disbelief through me. "Lisa ended up selling me a pack of diapers, and I thought that was it," she explained, her voice tinged with disbelief, "But next thing I know, she's taking me to the back of the store and strapping me to that changing table, using a shit ton of baby powder." I couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, the sheer absurdity of the situation rendering me momentarily speechless. "Wow," I muttered, at a loss for words, "That's... unexpected." As Sarah tried to justify her actions, her words seemed to only deepen my perplexity. I leaned in, my brow furrowed with curiosity, as if hoping that by closer proximity, I could better understand her reasoning. "But why would you let her do that?" I prodded gently, a mixture of incredulity and concern lacing my voice. It wasn't that I doubted Sarah's integrity or her ability to stand her ground—it was just so utterly perplexing that she would find herself in such a compromising position. Sarah's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the crimson hue creeping up her neck as she struggled to articulate her response. "I... I was resisting, Laura," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "But then... then she swatted me on the butt, and before I knew it, she was leading me to the back of the store. I... I just... instinctively complied." I nodded slowly, trying to process Sarah's explanation. It was as if some primal instinct had overridden her better judgment, compelling her to follow Lisa's lead despite her initial resistance. But even as I tried to wrap my head around it, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the absurdity of the situation. A wry smile played at the corners of my lips as I shook my head in bemusement. "So, what you're saying is... all it takes is a little swat on the butt to get you to do anything?" I teased, unable to resist injecting a hint of levity into the conversation. After all, if there was ever a time for a bit of humor, it was now, amidst the bewildering tale of diaper stores and impromptu changing sessions. As Sarah chuckled in response to my teasing, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. The tension that had lingered between us seemed to dissipate, replaced by a shared moment of lightheartedness amidst the confusion and uncertainty. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, I returned to the couch and handed one to Sarah, the cool glass offering a welcome distraction from the weight of our conversation. As we settled in, Sarah's question hung in the air, prompting me to confront the jumble of emotions swirling within me. "It's... complicated," I admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty as I searched for the right words. "On one hand, I feel... I don't know, empowered, I guess? Like, I never imagined myself in a position of authority like that, but... there was something strangely exhilarating about it." I paused, taking a sip of my beer as I mulled over my thoughts. "But then, at the same time, there's this nagging doubt in the back of my mind," I continued, my gaze drifting to the floor as I struggled to articulate the conflicting emotions raging within me. "Like, am I doing the right thing? Is this really what I want? It's... overwhelming, to say the least." Sarah nodded in understanding, her expression mirroring the mix of uncertainty and introspection that clouded my own thoughts. "I get it," she replied softly, her tone sympathetic as she reached out to squeeze my hand in a gesture of solidarity. "Change is never easy, especially when it comes to exploring new aspects of ourselves and our relationships As I chuckled at Sarah's remark, a wry smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, diaper changes are a breeze compared to navigating the complexities of relationships," I replied, the light-hearted banter serving as a welcome reprieve from the weight of our earlier conversation. "But you're right, change is never easy, especially when it comes to matters of the heart." Leaning back against the cushions, I took a deep breath, the words tumbling forth in a rush as I laid bare my thoughts and feelings to Sarah. "I... I really do enjoy the power and dominance," I admitted, my voice softening with vulnerability as I confessed my innermost desires. "There's something intoxicating about being in control, about having the ability to command and guide... but at the same time, I know there's more to a relationship than just kink." I glanced over at Sarah, searching her face for understanding as I continued to bare my soul. "I want... I need a partner," I confessed, the admission hanging in the air like a fragile thread between us. "Someone who can meet me halfway, who can embrace all facets of who I am, kinks and all. And while it's amazing to have the freedom to explore this side of myself with my boyfriend, I can't help but wonder... is all this even real" As I shared my thoughts with Sarah, the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, each word a tentative step into the depths of my own vulnerability. "You know, Sarah," I began, my voice soft yet tinged with introspection, "I've been grappling with this question ever since the other night.... Can I truly have a fulfilling relationship with these kinks present?" With a sigh, I leaned back, the cushions of the couch offering a small semblance of comfort amidst the swirling turmoil of my emotions. "On one hand," I continued, my gaze drifting towards the ceiling as if searching for answers amidst the expanse of white paint, "there's a part of me that revels in the power and dominance, that finds solace in the control and guidance I can exert over my partner." "But," I added, a note of hesitation creeping into my voice, "there's also a fear... a fear that these desires, these kinks, will overshadow everything else. That they'll become the focal point of the relationship, eclipsing the deeper emotional connections and shared experiences that I crave." As I spoke, I found myself grappling with a myriad of conflicting emotions, each one vying for dominance within the recesses of my heart. "I want... no, I need a partner who can embrace all facets of who I am," I confessed, the admission raw and unfiltered. "Someone who sees beyond the kinks to the person beneath, who can navigate the complexities of power dynamics with grace and understanding." "But," I added, a sense of uncertainty coloring my words, "finding that balance... that harmony between desire and emotional intimacy... it's not easy." Turning to face Sarah, I searched her eyes for any glimmer of insight or understanding, a silent plea for guidance amidst the turbulent sea of my own doubts and insecurities. "You know, Laura," she began, her tone gentle yet firm, "when it comes down to it, honesty is usually the best approach. Just be open with him about how you feel and what you want." Her advice resonated with me deeply, a reminder that clarity and transparency are the cornerstones of any healthy relationship. "You're right, Sarah," I replied, a sense of resolve settling over me, "I need to be honest with him... even if it's difficult." "And if he doesn't want to listen all you have to do is just put him in timeout" Sarah joked. Sarah's playful quip about putting my boyfriend in timeout elicited a genuine laugh from me, a brief reprieve from the weight of my thoughts. "Ah, the infamous timeout," I chuckled, the idea oddly appealing in its simplicity, "maybe I should invest in an hourglass for those particularly stubborn moments." But beyond the humor, I couldn't help but feel grateful for Sarah's unwavering support, for her ability to inject levity into even the most challenging of conversations. "Thank you, Sarah," I murmured, a warmth filling my chest, "for your wisdom, your humor... for always being there for me, no matter what." As Sarah and I embraced, I felt a surge of gratitude wash over me, a silent acknowledgment of the strength that comes from having a friend like her by my side. "Thank you, Sarah," I whispered softly, holding her close for a moment longer before releasing her. With a playful swat on her backside, I sent Sarah off to the kitchen, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Why don't you grab us another round of beers?" I suggested, my tone light yet tinged with amusement. Sarah's reaction was immediate, a startled jump followed by a half-hearted protest. "Oh, come on, Sarah," I chuckled, shaking my head in mock disapproval, "I can see right through that act. You love it." Despite her feigned indignation, I couldn't help but smile at the playful banter between us As Sarah returned with the beers, I couldn't help but notice the pack of diapers she had purchased earlier in a bag by her purse. With a mischievous glint in my eye, I gestured towards them. "What's the verdict? Keeping them for yourself?" I teased, a playful grin spreading across my face. Sarah's response was immediate, her cheeks flushing slightly at the suggestion. "Oh, no way," she exclaimed, shaking her head emphatically. "Sitting in that diaper for 45 minutes on the way home was long enough. It felt like I had a pillow wrapped around my waist." Her words elicited a hearty laugh from me, the mental image of Sarah enduring wearing a diaper during the car ride home too amusing to ignore. "Fair enough," I replied, still chuckling. "I'll take them off your hands then." With a mock sigh of relief, Sarah said I could have pack of diapers, her expression grateful yet slightly relieved to be rid of them Out of nowhere, Sarah's phone pinged with the sound of a notification, her expression shifted abruptly, a mixture of surprise and concern flashing across her features. "Oh no," she murmured, her brow furrowing as she glanced down at her screen. "It's work. There's an emergency, and I need to go." I could sense the tension in the air as Sarah hastily gathered her belongings, her hurried movements betraying her urgency. "I'm sorry, Laura," she said, her voice tinged with regret. "I love you. We'll catch up soon, okay?" My heart sank at the sudden turn of events, the prospect of our evening together dashed in an instant. Despite the disappointment, I managed a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze Sarah's hand gently. "It's alright, Sarah," I assured her. "Take care of what you need to. We'll reschedule." Before I could say another word, Sarah leaned in to hug me tightly, her embrace lingering for a moment longer than usual. "I'll call you later," she promised, her voice soft with sincerity. As Sarah headed towards the door, a thought occurred to her, and she turned back to face me, her expression hesitant yet hopeful. "Hey, Laura," she began, a nervous edge to her tone. "Maybe we should plan a girls' night out sometime. You, me, and Lisa?" Her suggestion caught me off guard, my surprise evident as I considered her words. The idea of a girls' night out with Sarah and Lisa was unexpected yet oddly appealing. "That sounds... interesting," I replied slowly, the wheels in my mind already turning with possibilities. "I'm in. Let's make it happen." With a final wave, Sarah bid me farewell, disappearing out the door and into the night. As I stood alone in the quiet of my apartment, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement at the prospect of our upcoming adventure, eager to see where the night would take us.
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  11. I must say…. It really is quite flattering to have a story adapted over my own. 🥰 Please do continue. I think you’ve done some delightful stuff and I’m looking forward to seeing more.
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  12. I post so often about messing my diapers that I am sure it gets old and repetitive for which I apologize. There are few variations for me in the morning when I go potty in my wet diaper, but for me each poopy diaper is as unique as a snowflake, and as enjoyable as my last poopy diapee. This morning is no different in my wet, warm, squishy Tykables Animooz diaper, soooo nice and cathartic, but my experience and pleasure loses its saliency in translation, All I can say is ahhhh, and sorry for all the redundancy.
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  13. Waking up early in the morning Sam is a little confused how she ended up back in the crib. After being helped out it is time to prepare for another day's activities. --- My writing is my passion and my income. I'm only able to write as much as I do because of the wonderful support from my subscribers. With the ABDL purge on Patreon hurting my income dramatically I have set up a couple of alternatives. If you enjoy my work and want to support me there has never been a time where I need it more. For $5 you can see every update to my stories one week before anyone else and for $10 you get early access PLUS access to 50+ stories EXCLUSIVE to subscribers. There are other rewards and tiers available including discounted commissions. To find out more please consider visiting one of my subscription sites. Prices, rewards and eveything else are the same across both https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy Thank you for reading and supporting me and my work ❤️ --- When Sam’s eyes fluttered open she felt immediate confusion. She was lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling, the tall bars of the crib towered up around her on all sides. She couldn’t remember getting put in the crib at all. Her last memory of the previous night was her sitting underneath the baby bed and leaning against Nina. Sam sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked out through the bars of the crib and saw Nina asleep in her bed. As she watched the sleeping woman the memories of the previous night came back. She had been under the bed because… the leak came back to Sam like a thunderbolt and she cringed in fresh shame. It hadn’t been all bad though. Nina’s cuddling almost made up for her embarrassment. She relaxed her bladder with an automatic ease and felt fresh urine warming her diaper. She shivered as the liquid ran in tiny rivulets against her sensitive skin. There wasn’t any hesitation anymore. She wasn’t going to wake up Nina so there was no point holding it and making herself uncomfortable. Sam laid back down and took a deep breath as she felt the comforting warmth clinging to her. She smiled and shifted her hips a little and reached down to press the diaper even closer to her body. She never thought she’d be doing this but she couldn’t deny the pleasure coming from the wet underwear. Before she was even thinking about what she was doing she was closing her eyes and digging the heel of her hand into the thickened disposable. “Good morning.” Nina’s voice came through the semi-darkness. Sam froze and her eyes sprung open. She bit her lip and wondered if she had been making more noise than she had thought. Nina was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Sam had no idea if she had noticed what was happening. “Hi.” Sam said quietly. “I think we both had an early night.” Nina said as she stretched and checked the time, “It’s still early.” “Uh huh.” Sam slowly moved her hand away from the diaper as she sat up again. She let out a deep sigh of relief that it didn’t seem like Nina had noticed what she had started to do. “I don’t imagine the others are up.” Nina continued as she stood up. Sam could see that Nina was wearing just her lingerie. She felt a lump in her throat as Nina passed the crib and went through to the bathroom. The door was left open a little as Sam waited to be let out of her bed. “I don’t remember getting into bed last night.” Sam said loudly enough for Nina to hear her. “You fell asleep on me… again.” Nina chuckled, “I put you in there when it became clear you were out like a light.” Nina flushed the toilet and came back into the bedroom with a yawn. Sam thought the room was still dark enough to hide her blushes, she certainly hoped so. She really needed to stop falling asleep on her best friend… “Out you come.” Nina reached over the top of the bars. Sam lifted her arms and was lifted in the now familiar way. Normally Nina put her down on the ground as soon as possible but this time she unexpectedly moved Sam to her chest. Sam’s eyes went wide as she leaned against her friend, she was right between Nina’s breasts that were hidden only so much by the bra Nina wore. She remained frozen, her face turned to one side with one of her friend’s boobs just inches away from her. A hand suddenly patted Sam’s diaper, the warmth getting pushed up against her. Without a word Nina put Sam down on the end of her bed. She then reached underneath to pull out a diaper and held it out for Sam to take. Sam was on autopilot as she took the fresh disposable and held it against her chest. “I think you’ll need this.” Nina said with an easy smile and a wink. “Thanks…” Sam said quietly. Sam should’ve been outraged. Nina was overstepping lines left, right and centre. To carry her as she had, check her like that and assume she wanted a diaper, these were all things that just a day or so ago would’ve made Sam explode with rage but now she was meekly clutching the diaper as Nina turned around and bent over to pick up a shirt. As Sam got a wonderful view of Nina’s butt she wondered if her friend was doing all this on purpose. After briefly rubbing her diaper in the crib it now seemed like Nina was teasing her. Sam shook her head, she must’ve been imagining it. She didn’t even know if Nina actually liked her like that for sure. “I’ll see you in the other room.” Nina said as she finished putting her skirt on. Sam nodded and waited for Nina to leave and close the door. Sam took a deep breath and looked down at the diaper. As much as she would’ve liked to have been outraged that Nina assumed she needed the protection she knew they were doing an escape room that day, access to the bathroom would be limited. A diaper was probably the right choice. Sam pulled the tapes off her diaper and let it flop open. She could see that all the excitement from that early morning had had an effect on her. Still, she didn’t want to hang around too long in case Nina came looking for her so she folded up her old diaper and opened the new one underneath her. She pulled up the front of the new disposable and felt the comforting feeling of warm and dry padding encompassing her. Once she was taped up Sam slipped off the edge of the bed. The diaper crinkled but she barely even noticed it anymore. She looked at her collection of clothes and paused. Most of her outfits were at least a little childish, she could really only shop in the children’s section after all, and although she tried to get the least ridiculous looking outfits it wasn’t always possible. Having gone through most of the clothes she had bought with her in the preceding days her options were getting limited unless she wore unwashed stuff. There were a couple of plain t-shirts but, for some reason, her eye was drawn to a shirt she never really wore and only brought with her for an emergency. The pink shirt had a large rainbow that started at the bottom of the front and curved around to her back where it went down to the hemline again. It was undeniably childish and yet it was what Sam pulled out of her bag with a smile. Sam pulled the shirt over her head and looked into the mirror. Not for the first time on this vacation she saw a baby girl looking back at her. She blushed as she smiled a little bit. Looking away quickly she wondered what on Earth was going on with her. She would normally be utterly repelled to look this way and yet here she was actually LIKING the look. Sam picked up a knee-length skirt and stepped into it, she pulled it up and over her diaper. She checked the mirror one last time to make sure that the padding was completely hidden which it was though if she bent right over she could see the bottom poking out. She spun around a couple of times and found herself loving the look. After one last check of everything Sam stepped out into the living area. Nina was sitting on the couch as Sam came out of the bedroom, the other two were absent. Nina smiled when she saw Sam. “That’s a good look on you.” Nina said. Sam blushed and looked down at the floor. She mumbled something indistinct before hurrying around to the kitchen to make some cereal. Despite having to climb up chairs to get to the counter Sam managed to get her cereal and brought it back into the living room. Reaching the table was a bit of a stretch so Sam put her bowl on the floor just in front of the couch and facing the television and sat down cross-legged. “Is there anything you want to watch?” Nina asked as Sam started eating. “Not really.” Sam answered, “I’m good with whatever.” Nina was flicking through the channels lazily. It was early in the morning so there wasn’t a lot on. Sam continued eating as the images on the screen continuously changed. The news, some reality show, a morning talk show, cartoons, another talk show… The screen lingered on the talk show a moment longer than the other channels though Sam couldn’t see why since it looked very dull. Then, just as Sam was putting her spoon in her mouth, the television flicked back one channel and on to the cartoons. Sam froze up and her eyes went wide. Nina was still holding the remote but she wasn’t changing the channel again. Sam slowly turned to look at Nina who was looking at Sam with a curious smile. The Sam from before this vacation would ask Nina what the hell she was doing and demand the channel be changed, she would be storming out of the room or asking if Nina was deliberately trying to insult her. “Is this OK?” Nina asked in a quiet voice. Sam wasn’t saying anything. She didn’t know why she wasn’t talking. She was feeling a lot of different emotions and it seemed like her brain didn’t know which ones to verbalise. After a few more seconds Sam simply turned back to the TV. She could feel herself blushing super hard, a heat just behind the skin of her face made Sam feel like she was a beacon of light. For the next fifteen minutes Sam sat on the floor in her diaper and watched the cartoons. Neither she nor Nina said a word whilst Sam ate her breakfast. When she had finished she felt a little awkward, she didn’t know what to do or say. She fiddled with her hands and wondered if she had the strength to look back at her friend despite how embarrassed she felt. “Did you want to sit up here?” Nina asked. Sam almost jumped when Nina broke the silence. She bit her lip and knew that she definitely did want to sit on the couch. She stood up and turned around, she avoided looking at Nina’s face as she started to climb up on to the couch. A hand suddenly pressed on her rear end and Sam’s eyes widened as she looked around at Nina helping her up. Once settled Sam sat with her legs out in front of her on the cushion and her hands in her lap. “It’s OK to watch cartoons.” Nina said quietly, “Sometimes I like watching them at home if I’ve got nothing else to do.” “I know, it’s just…” Sam started. “I get it.” Nina interrupted, “I really do.” Sam didn’t say anything. She slid closer to Nina until she was right next to her, just like the previous night Nina held up her arm and wrapped it around Sam’s shoulders. Sam could barely stop a little squeak coming out as she laid her head on Nina’s side. Together they sat on the couch as the cartoons played. Neither of them said much. Sam could’ve stayed in that position forever but that was never going to be an option. When the door to the other girls’ bedroom opened Sam instinctively hurried across to the other side of the couch and Nina, sensing Sam’s worry, changed the channel before anyone stepped out. Even so, Sam was red in the face as she turned to see Amy walking in. “Good morning.” Amy yawned. “Morning.” Nina replied. She turned to look at Sam and gave her a little wink. “I hope you’ve got your thinking hats on.” Chrissy said loudly as she stepped out of the bedroom. “This early in the morning?” Nina laughed. Sam brought her legs together a little more and flattened her skirt. She suddenly felt a lot more self-conscious over her choice of underwear. Fortunately no one was taking the time to look over and they wouldn’t have seen anything even if they had thanks to the angle she was sitting at. Regardless she kept to herself as the others conversed. She felt like she had a lot on her mind. --- If you want to find out what happens next you can do so RIGHT NOW at either of the following links: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/lplyymi677/chapter/4aab8b32-4899-489e-b55d-a6412f2e8f38 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1230356
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  14. Part 31 With wide eyes, I vigorously shook my head back and forth. That was NOT what I wanted. “Kate-” I began, though it was difficult to even get that much out with the way she was pushing the childish accessory against my lips. “No.” Practically growling in response, she shoved the plastic ring forward and gave another horrifying massage-like rub against my pelvis with the dirty pull-ups. I stiffened and shut up immediately; her cruel movements stopped in response, but her stern gaze remained. “When your pacifier is in, you aren’t allowed to talk. Remember?” Of course. The helpless experience in the car was recent enough, although it was nothing compared to the current moment. Nodding my head with watery eyes, I prayed she would let up. How had I let things come to this?! Technically, Kate never made me do anything. I made each choice for myself. But that didn’t mean that I actually wanted something as ridiculous as being her younger sister; I just kept choosing what sounded like the best option compared to the alternatives she provided. “Good girl,” Kate repeated. She took her hand off the pacifier, but kept her grip down below. “Now, suck on your tit and listen up.” I did as I was told, blushing a bit at the crass term. Going on, Kate said, “Now, I’m tired of you acting out. If you still want my help dealing with your not so little problem, you’re going to behave from here on out. Understand?” Affirming with another awkward nod, I nervously sucked on the pacifier and willed myself to meet her eyes instead of glancing away in embarrassment. “That’s what I thought. Now, since you clearly didn’t get it the first time, here’s what’s going to happen: You are going to be a little ball of fun during your fashion show. I want you to smile, and giggle like a schoolgirl, and be ANNIE. Like, really sell it. Can you manage that, sis?” It was the same directive as before, but the stakes felt a lot higher now. Considering my sister’s no nonsense attitude at the moment, this could very well be my last chance to keep my mortifying secret between just the two of us. And in order to do so, I had to be a bubbly tween? It went against my normal nature in every possible way. Despite my reservations, I found myself nodding. “Good. If you’re the cutest little sister in the whole world, you might even get a change before mini golf. Now, how about a little practice?” Kate finally removed her hand from below my skirt, and used the other to pop the pacifier out of my mouth. Stepping back with an idle smile, she asked, “Are you ready for your fashion show, Annie?” With almost no time to get into character, I simply blurted out the most extreme version of what she was asking for. “Like, oh my God, YES.” Pushing a big smile on my face, and wanting the floor to swallow me up as my sister smiled victoriously towards the sudden burst of energy, I persevered when that wish didn’t come true. “I’m, like, so excited.” “That’s a much better attitude for a girl your size, sis. And you just gave me a really fun idea! Why don’t we give you a quota? You need to say ‘like’ at least five hundred times before we get back from mini golf. I’ll be counting!” Wait, what? My smile shrunk for a moment at just how stupid and childish that would make me sound, but of course that’s probably why she thought of it as ‘really fun.’ In a small act of rebellion, I forced the smile back and agreed with, “Like, that’s like, such a, like, good idea. Like, seriously!” Kate just rolled her eyes. “Nice try, brat. The count stays at zero until the twins are with us. And it’s always paused when it’s just the two of us, even after that. Okay?” The only way to stop myself from arguing was to go in the completely opposite direction in the name of survival. Awkwardly giggling instead, I agreed with an overly enthusiastic, “Okay!” “Like the little sister I always wanted,” Kate smirked, “Keep it up. Your count might pause when we’re alone, but not your lovely attitude. That can stay!” “Of course, sis!” “Now take off your skirt, Annie. And then you’ll need some help getting dressed, right?” Fuck me. I managed to get away with doing the bra myself, but Kate was clearly prompting me to answer the way she wanted. “Umm, yeah,” the giggle was fake, but the nerves behind it were real, “I guess I could use a little help.” As I began removing the last part of my original outfit of the day, I belatedly realized that this would be the first time either of us would be seeing the pull-ups on me by themselves. So far, I had managed to keep myself covered, even after the humiliating process of wetting myself and then worse. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop. Not only had I already partially pulled the skirt down, but I had literally just agreed to be a ‘ball of fun’ with a good attitude. I wasn’t in the best position to argue or backtrack. At least making sure that Kate wasn’t pulling out her phone, even though I was pretty sure she had left it in the bedroom, I reluctantly worked the skirt past the bulky underwear that made the undressing process more difficult than if I had simply been wearing panties. Blushing as pink as the pull-ups that came into view, I quickly shifted my legs and let gravity drop the skirt to my ankles before my embarrassment caused me to yank them back up for protection. “Oh, Annie,” Kate frowned, “Wow, you really filled those up, didn’t you?” NO. It was a weird thought to have, but even wetting and messing myself shouldn’t have caused the considerable sag that I could see and feel a lot more clearly now that Kate was directly pointing it out. But we had poured a whole bottle of yellow sports drink down the pull-ups before getting settled in the car. If anything, it was all that extra liquid that was weighing them down. Or maybe it was just easier telling myself that, since I didn’t want to believe that my own mess was the culprit. Oh no. I was supposed to have a nonstop good attitude. It was one thing when talking about trying on new outfits, but this? No girl ever, nineteen or twelve, would have an upbeat demeanor about something so awful. Except me, apparently. “It’s fine!” Stepping out of my skirt with a hesitant grin, I said, “It was just a little accident. Nothing a shower can’t fix!” Take the hint, sis. If she hadn’t made the point earlier about the pull-ups being tricky to dispose of without being caught, I would be running the water right now so I could jump in. My salvation was so close, and yet so far. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I should make a pass with some wet wipes first. I have a bunch of babysitting experience, remember? And you might miss a spot without my help.” Was that actually what she had in mind? No way. Letting her see me undressed like this was bad enough; the last thing I needed was my smug sister getting the chance to witness me in an even worse state. “It’s fine, really!” Leaning harder into the immature roleplay in an attempt to appease her, I let out an obnoxiously girly giggle compared to the previous one. “Like, I have accidents, like, all the time! Don’t worry, I know how to clean myself up.” “All the time?” Kate echoed, “Is that why you packed all those pull-ups?” “Mm hmm,” I nodded, “Just in case.” The way her face lit up was not a good sign. Anything that was fun and exciting for Kate was rarely those things for me. “Well, you should probably wear them for the rest of the weekend, then. Like, 24/7, until I can trust that you’re potty trained.” ------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "The Road Trip" (85+ parts) and other stories on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia
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  15. Chapter 59 - Cornered [7:30 PM] “Hi, I’ll take a falafel wrap with everything on it to go, medium heat, please,” the officer notified the restauranteur, as she looked up at the menu screen. “Also, a Coke Zero.” A low blond ponytail that had been wrapped into a bun protruded from under her cap at the back of her head. “I will prepare that for you right away, madam, but, may I engage you first on another matter?” The officer looked puzzled. “Sure,” she said. The man dropped his voice. “There is an unaccompanied child at one of my tables - he came in looking for something to eat. It looks like he has recently been injured, and, he is also wearing a cast from a previous injury. I asked him where his parents were, and I could tell that he made up a story. He is young – I would guess maybe nine or ten. This is a late hour for such a child to be out in the city by themselves. I was thinking that I would have to call someone from your department, but since you are here, maybe you could speak with him?” “What did he tell you?” “He said his parents were at the travel agency a couple of units over, but, I know they are closed.” Zack sat at his table chewing a remnant from his bagel, trying to look engrossed by the label on his apple juice, but out of the corner of his eye, he was watching the police officer at the counter. She had been looking at the menu and was now talking to the restauranteur, so, it seemed like maybe she had just stopped in for food. Then, her head did a quick scan of the tables, and settled on him. She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded to the man, before walking along the counter and heading towards where he was sitting. Crap! Zack’s heart raced. Maybe she’s looking for the bathroom. The officer did in fact walk right past Zack, and open the washroom door, causing Zack to raise his head and look, which she caught when she quickly looked over her shoulder, after glimpsing into the washroom to make sure it was unoccupied. She pushed the bathroom door closed and walked over. Zack’s wide eyes took in her dark blue uniform, black armored vest, and a belt that contained what looked like a half-dozen devices, including a radio, a sidearm, and a bright yellow handgrip that seemed to be some other type of weapon. But her face was friendly. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asked, but then she pulled the chair opposite him out without waiting for an answer. Zack swallowed hard. “Sure… I’m just leaving anyway,” he added. “Is that your scooter?” she inquired, tilting her head towards the battered device that rested against the table. Zack nodded weakly. The officer tilted her upper body over so that she could look under the table from the side. “Your knee is bleeding,” she observed. “What happened?” Zack took another sip from his apple juice, with slightly shaking hands. I shouldn’t have come in here… “I fell off my scooter,” he said simply. “Well, that looks like it smarts – you could probably use a bandage, maybe a couple, eh? What happened to your ankle?” “I broke it a couple of weeks ago, at baseball practice,” he said, lowering his voice and looking over towards the counter. The man behind it was busy and not paying attention. “You’re not having much luck these days, are you? What brings you down here tonight? Do you live nearby?” Zack grasped for the straw the police officer seemed to be offering. “Yes, yes, exactly – I live just up the street. Just getting a bite to eat, and I’ll head straight home.” “So, your parents are not at the travel agency?” “I’m sure they probably went home by now,” he said, nodding for emphasis. “And they left you here?” she asked in a neutral tone. “Uh, well, I come here all the time – it’s right up the street.” The officer lifted her arm and looked at her watch. “You come here all the time, downtown, at eight o’clock in the evening, by yourself?” Zack took another frantic swig from his juice while his overwhelmed brain tried to formulate a response. “Yes,” he said simply, and felt his cheeks start to burn. He felt like he was blinking excessively, too, but couldn’t help himself. He wished that his juice wasn’t nearly empty. “Here’s the thing… the man who runs this restaurant has never seen you before, and he is here every day. He’s concerned about you. I’m concerned, too. Can you tell me your name and address?” Zack dropped his face into the palms of his hands and took a shaky breath. Why didn’t I look at the goddamn street names around here?!? He tried to think of a street name that he knew, but that wouldn’t give away his actual origins. The park where he played baseball was on a street called Woodhaven… Woodhaven sounded like a common enough name – there had to be one in a city as big as this? Didn’t there? “I live on, uh, Woodhaven street. It’s close by.” “What’s your street number?” she asked smiling. Zack’s mind raced. “Two… one… two… three….” he said, intoning the last number almost like he was asking her. The officer reached behind her and pulled a phone out of one of her many pockets. She tapped on it for a few moments, and then looked up at him. “The nearest Woodhaven Street is in Olympia, my dear, and there is no two one two three Woodhaven, in any case. So, who are you?” Zack’s eyes went wide. DUMB DUMB DUMB to use an Olympia street name when I’m from Olympia. Dumb. “I am, uh, from Olympia… maybe I got the number wrong. We just moved.” “And how did you end up all the way up here? Olympia is at least fifty miles away. Did you ride your scooter?” Zack could feel panic gnawing at the corners of his mind, and he could not think of a good response, so, he told the truth, in a roundabout way. “I came on the bus,” he said, while looking at her with pleading eyes. “By yourself? From Olympia? That’s a long, complicated commute. What bus routes did you take?” Zack was defeated. “I don’t remember.” “And what business do you have in these parts?” “I just… wanted to go exploring a bit,” he said, with resignation, not expecting her to accept that, just as she hadn’t accepted anything he’d said so far. “It’s late for someone your age to be out exploring in the city by themselves, don’t you think? How old are you?” she asked, in a skeptical but kind tone. Don’t say your real age. Don’t give her any more accurate details. “I’m… I’m thirteen,” he answered, trying to sound confident. “What year were you born?” Zack froze, but then spit out an answer. He was good at math. “Twenty-eleven.” Phew. That was right. “And what’s your name?” Zack froze again. Come up with a name! Something as far away from ‘Zack’ as you can get. “Adam.” “What’s your last name, Adam?” He searched his mind. His science teacher in the sixth grade had been Mr. Cooper. He had no idea why that come to him. “Adam Cooper.” “Do you have a phone number, Adam Cooper?” she asked, holding her phone up expectantly. Zack sighed. “I… I don’t know it. It’s in my phone… and I don’t have my phone.” “So… you don’t know your address, because you just moved, and you don’t know your phone number, because you don’t have your phone. Do you live with your mom and dad?” Zack nodded. “Do they have names?” Zack looked like a deer caught in headlights again for a moment. Then, he remembered his roommate from the children’s hospital. “Tommy and Angela,” he spit out. “Tommy and Angela Cooper, who just moved to… Olympia, with their son, Adam, who is thirteen, is that correct?” Zack noded. “Where did you move to Olympia from?” Crap!!! “Uh, Canada, ma’am.” Fuck, why’d I’d I say Canada? “Canada… well, the plot thickens. Anywhere in particular, in Canada?” Zack hung his head. He was exhausted. “Just… just Canada.” “Well, Adam Cooper from Canada, so far, I have to say, I’m not fully embracing the story you are telling me. I’m not sure if Adam is your name or not, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not thirteen yet, and, I’m certain that if you’d lived in Canada, you would probably know where you lived. You seem pretty bright. I’m getting the impression that you don’t want me to know who you are, and I need to know why that is. Can you tell me why, Adam?” The man from behind the counter walked over towards them with another bottle of apple juice, a can of pop, and a cylindrical object wrapped in white wax paper. He placed all three on the table, and then slid the juice towards Zack, but it was too late. All the juice in the world couldn’t help Zack now. Simultaneously, tears began streaming down his face, and, he wet his diaper. _________ [7:50 PM] Zack held his head in his hands as the officer pressed a button on a radio microphone that was clipped to her vest, attached to a unit on her belt by a spiral cord. “This is twenty eighty-two, I’m ten seventy-five with an unidentified minor child on Northeast Forty-Third. Request social services at the division. Ask if EMS has a unit in the area that can meet us, non-emergency. I am transporting him, I’ll be ten ninety-seven at twenty thirty-five.” There was a burst of static, and then, “Roger, twenty eighty-two, passing on your requests.” Zack swallowed hard. “What does that mean, what you said on your radio?” he whispered. “What that means, Adam, is, unless you can tell me who you are, and where you’re from, for real, I am going to have to give you a ride back to my precinct. I told them we’d be there at about 8:35. I just need to pay for my wrap – it looks like I’ll be eating dinner a bit later.” The proprietor shook his head. “Not at all, officer, not at all. This is on me. Thank you for your kind assistance to our young friend here. Have you had enough to eat, my soccer player?” Zack nodded mutely. He was no longer hungry. “Well, take the juice with you for later. Come back and see me when you are feeling better.” “He plays soccer, too, does he? He just told me he plays baseball,” the officer said, looking directly at Zack. The man squeezed Zack’s shoulder and then walked back towards the counter, where a heavyset man in a long t-shirt seemed to be looking for someone in the back of the kitchen. “I didn’t introduce myself, Adam, I apologize. My name is Officer Riley. That is my real name, too.” She gave him a wink. “My car is parked just outside. You are not under arrest, Adam, but… don’t try to run, okay?” Zack looked up at her with tear-streaked cheeks. She winked again, then stood up, and turned the scooter 180 degrees, holding it steady for him. Reluctantly, he slid out from under the table, and gingerly placed his injured leg on its knee-rest, wincing as he felt the dried blood on it shift and crumble on the cushion. Once he was standing, he saw her raise one eyebrow slightly, as she took in his outfit. He blushed again, knowing that the sizeable diaper given to him in the ER had to be visible. Officer Riley put a hand on the handlebars of the scooter, but Zack sensed that, unlike when Kelly did it, she wasn’t rushing or intending to tow him. She just didn’t know how steady he would be, and she wanted to make sure he didn’t fall over. He set the pace as they rolled towards her vehicle, which turned out to be basically the same SUV that Kelly’s sister Kim had driven him to the hospital in. That seems like it happened months ago… “Adam, do you normally ride in a booster seat when you’re in a car?” she asked him, as she pulled the handle on the back door of the grey police vehicle. Zack shook his head vigorously. “No, I don’t,” he said. “You look like you’re nine or ten to me, but I’ll take your word for it. You slide in on the seat, and I’ll put your scooter in the back. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to back there… it’s not exactly clean. I have some pretty grungy passengers sometimes.” Zack paused when he looked into the black vinyl cavern that was the rear compartment of the police SUV. There was a plexiglass screen separating it from both the front seats, and the cargo area of the vehicle. A wire grid covered the windows. It looked like a cage. Sensing his hesitation, the officer put a hand on his shoulder. “I’d let you ride up front, buddy, but I think you’re too short – it wouldn’t be safe with the airbag. But you’re not under arrest, okay? I promise. This is just what we have to use right now, I’ll let you out as soon as we get to the station.” Zack reluctantly slid onto the flat vinyl seat, finding barely enough room for his casted ankle between the base of the seat and the plexiglass barrier behind the front seatbacks. There were no seatbelts, and the dome light was in a plexiglass cage. The officer closed the door, and then stood outside the vehicle, talking into her radio, for several minutes.
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  16. Two weeks since a post on this thread, and I apologize for consecutive posts. My Tykables Animooz diaper is very wet and now messy this morning. I am sitting here with a warm squishy poopy in my diapee and a hot cup of coffee. I also discovered something else that is very nice, a little Vick's Vapo Rub on my pee pee provides a nice warm tingle. Oh my...I just lifted up from my chair for an unsuspected, but welcomed second potty in my diaper. The second squish sitting back down made me shudder with pleasure, like dry orgasm. What a morning and I won't change immediately, as long as I don't have a leak or diaper blow-out, which I don't think will happen in my Animooz diaper. I am actually going to go out for a run in my wet and poopy diaper before I change. It's another great sensation to feel potty in my diaper while running. I didn't win the Power Ball lottery, but this morning I won the Poopy Diaper Lottery.
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  17. Chapter 14: Let It All Soak In I couldn’t fully blame my lack of sleep for how distracted I was from the standardized test I was taking. I suppressed yet another yawn as I tried to recall all the advice Grace had given me about multiple-choice tests. There was the obvious – when in doubt, choose “C.” Then, there were other pieces of advice, such as working to eliminate wrong answers to make it easier when I still needed to guess. On the geometry question I was staring at, I was fairly certain that “C” was incorrect, and I was skeptical of “D” as well. That’s what made the whole thing suck even more. If I just had more time to work things through on a sheet of paper, perhaps I’d arrive at the answer, but I had a little over a minute for each question, meaning I had to just mark an answer and move on to the next one or risk not completely finishing the test. I took hold of my pencil and filled in the “B” circle. At least I had narrowed that question down to having a fifty percent chance of getting it right. Nine months of learning all boiled down to two days of filling in circles for hours and hours on end. I hated that this was supposed to somehow serve as proof that I had managed to learn anything over the course of the school year. Then again, it wasn’t as though my performance throughout the rest of the school year could have been regarded as spectacular. If I had considered how tired the bedwetting was going to make me, I might have been able to exercise enough self-control to delay this experiment until after the school year had ended, but now I was stuck with the consequences of those decisions. Still, I should have been able to do better on the test. It was true that I was tired. It was also true that I had gotten significantly less sleep than normal since Friday evening. But it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Even on nights when I didn’t get that much sleep, I usually was capable of summoning the willpower to stay on task for the first couple hours of school. That wasn’t the case today. That’s because something else was on my mind. Something that challenged everything I had thought I had known about my pursuit of pull-ups over the past few years. Despite my best efforts, my thoughts kept attempting to drift back to that scene in bed earlier this morning when I had peed in my pajamas while lying down on the bed. I had finally succeeded in coaxing my body to allow my bladder to release in a more natural sleeping position. The result had been a rush of exhilarating physical sensations and emotions that had taken me completely by surprise, especially as that hadn’t been the case the two other times I had peed while kneeling over my sheets. There were a couple of things I knew were true about my interest in pull-ups. There was something about the overall presence and feeling of wearing a pull-up that I found comforting, from the way the sides hugged around my waist to the softness of the interior absorbent padding to the way the bulky padding fit between my legs. I could still recall the mesmerizing way the pull-up had crinkled as I had held it in my hands and slid it up my legs. It had brought a sense of calm and assurance that shouldn’t have been possible for just a change in undergarments. I had always assumed that I would wet a pull-up when I got a chance to wear one next. That was what one did when they wore a pull-up. I had no idea whether that was something I was going to enjoy, but I was desperate to discover what it felt like. With the way my wetting experiment had gone this morning, I felt it was safe to assume that this was something I was going to enjoy. What I had never expected was that I would now be desperately wanting to wet my pants again, not because doing so was part of a scheme to get my parents to purchase pull-ups for me, but because I enjoyed doing it in and of itself. I looked up at the clock near the doorway to the classroom. How long had I been staring blankly at the next question? Five minutes. I hurried through the new few questions, skimming them briefly before hastily filling in my first guess. Grace had told me a horror story about college prep tests where one would actually lose points if they got an answer wrong, meaning that guessing was risky business, as it was better for your grade to leave a question blank than to be incorrect. At least that wasn’t the case with this test. I took a deep breath. I was still on track to finish the test on time. Just had to stay focused, remind myself that I would have all summer to experiment with these new desires. There were only twenty minutes left before it would be time to break for lunch. I managed to get through three more questions before I once again succumbed to my daydreams, drawn in by other questions that I felt more strongly compelled to answer. There were so many things I wanted to know now. What would it feel like to wet my wants while I was standing, with the urine trickling down my legs and onto the floor? What about when sitting down on a chair, where it would cause my bottom to get soaked rather than my front? The best part of all was that I didn’t need any special undergarments to explore any of these newly desired experiences. But none of this meant that my longing for pull-ups was, in any way, lessened. I hadn’t thought that it would be possible for my desire for pull-ups to grow any more intense than it had already done in the past three years. But the revelation that I enjoyed peeing myself meant that there was even more to look forward to when I finally got the pull-ups. But in the meantime, I was eagerly looking forward to when I would be alone in bed this evening, and I was already working out ways I could circumvent my family’s attempts to limit my hydration. <><><> The worst part about the standardized tests was that they were done in long sections. They made us sit at our desks for seventy-minute test sections. That was far too long to be sitting on an uncomfortable wood desk. Angie and Emma weren’t even in the same room for me for the testing, not that it mattered, as we wouldn’t have had any chance to communicate, anyway. I joined my friends at a table in the cafeteria. Angie was already halfway through her lunch, and Emma had gotten a few bites into hers. “Took you long enough,” Angie said as I took a seat across the table from her. “I was done fifteen minutes early.” My face burned. I had used up every last second, filling in circles right up until the moment we were directed to immediately set our pencils down. I hadn’t done well at all. The worst of it was I’d left a handful of questions unanswered at the end. “What did your mom say about the sleepover?” Emma asked between bites of her ham and cheese sandwich. I had put off asking Mom about the sleepover. I had still been working on the best way to convince her that an all-nighter would not only be OK, but would be a good way to circumvent her concerns about bedwetting. I gave an excuse that, under most circumstances, would have been the honest truth. “Uh, I forgot.” Emma tilted her head back and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Maddy, do I need to like text you a reminder to make sure you do it?” <><><> The copy of Reader’s Digest was still on the entryway table when I got home from school. Mom probably hadn’t had time yet to take a look at it before she went off to work. I left it untouched. I’d just have to wait for her to read it after dinner. Grace was already home. Mom and Dad still didn’t allow me to have the house to myself for more than five to ten minutes at a time. That had been different with Grace. By the time she was turning thirteen, they had not only entrusted her to stay alone by herself, but they had allowed her to be home with Jackson and me. I, on the other hand, apparently still required constant supervision. It would likely be another year or two before they finally moved on from that time when I had accidentally left the stovetop burners on. I had the next few evenings planned out for if, when, and how I was going to continue the bedwetting. Tonight, Wednesday night, I was going to wet the bed for real again, but do it in the middle of the night, rather than early in the morning. On Thursday, I would give the bedwetting a break, figuring that the occasional dry night would make the rest of the wet nights appear more natural. On Friday night, or really Saturday morning, I would again wet the bed for real once I woke up in the morning. Tonight was the trickiest, with all of my family members save Jackson paying close attention to my hydration and bathroom habits. My phone buzzed. Emma had just texted me a reminder to ask Mom about the sleepover. I texted back to inform her that Mom was at work and that I would be asking her after dinner. I headed off to the restroom at the urging of my bladder. I tugged down my pants to the disappointing sight of my underwear. Using the toilet had never felt so completely unsatisfying as it did right now. If only I could be going potty in my pants instead. As I sat on the toilet, I tried to make sense of why this new desire had appeared. I’d struggled throughout the day to understand the why of what had happened earlier. Was this tied to my desire to wear the pull-up again? Was it something altogether different, a new spark? <><><> Mom made me wait thirty minutes after dinner before she finally picked up the Reader’s Digest magazine. I hadn’t been able to witness the moment of truth, so I was left to guess whether the pull-up ad had caught her gaze when she had first grabbed the magazine. She looked up from the magazine as I walked into the living room. “Can I ask you a question?” “Sure, what do you need?” “My friends were wanting to do a sleepover for my birthday party.” “Maddy,” Mom said. “Are we really sure that is a good idea right now?” At least Mom had the courtesy not to mention bedwetting, as Jackson was still in the room. “They suggested that we could pull an all-nighter. So, that way there won’t be any issues since I won’t be falling asleep until we leave.” Mom frowned. “I’m going to need to talk with your father about that.” That wasn’t usually a promising sign, as Mom tended to be more lenient than Dad when it came to giving me permission to do new things. However, the fact that I hadn’t gotten an outright no was at least encouraging. My biggest problem would be trying to explain to my friends why I suddenly wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers anymore if my parents were to reject the all-nighter plan and not offer pull-ups as a solution. I texted Emma to let her know that I had asked Mom and that I hadn’t gotten an immediate decision. Now, it was time to put my plan to get hydrated for tonight into motion. I went upstairs to my bedroom and scoured through my closet, digging through boxes of old soccer equipment until I came across exactly what I was looking for. It was a water bottle I had been given at a camp a year or two back, one of the annoying ones with one of those spouts that almost made it feel as though I was drinking out of a toddler sippy cup. With the rest of my soccer cups in the cupboard downstairs – Mom had insisted they be thoroughly washed with the soccer season over – this was the perfect find, as no one would have a clue that I was using it. I waited until Gace had started her evening task of washing dishes. Yes, I could have done this while she was secluded in her bedroom, but I wasn’t going to take the slight risk of her coming out at an inopportune time and catching me in the process of filling up the bottle. It was a twenty-four-ounce bottle. More than enough to get sufficiently hydrated to allow me to easily pee. A few minutes later, it was full of yucky tap water from the upstairs bedroom, but it wouldn’t make any difference. My body would work to convert it to urine just the same as if it had been fancy filtered water. In the end, it all came out the same way. <><><> I squirmed underneath the covers as the clock moved ever closer to midnight. This was partly due to the physical need to urinate. I had downed the whole water bottle in the hour before I had gotten ready for bed. But it was also in anticipation of what I was about to do. In my head, I kept replaying the moment I had wet the bed last night. Thirty minutes to midnight. The sounds now coming from the bedroom told me that Mom and Dad were in the final stages of getting ready for bed. They always fell asleep quickly. There wasn’t any reason I couldn’t wet myself now rather than wait until midnight. It wasn’t as though I was going to want to get up and get cleaned up right away. I wanted time to savor the moment I had been looking forward to all day long, let it all soak in. I made a short and futile attempt to pee while lying on my back, but that was completely hopeless. It didn’t even feel as though I’d come close to getting my bladder to release. That changed when I rolled over to my stomach, the mattress loudly protesting beneath me as I did so. I didn’t bother with any more experimentation. I knew now what worked, so I followed the same exact routine. I slid my hands under my chest, raising myself up ever so slightly off of the mattress. My bladder emptied at the slightest urging. I dropped down onto the mattress the moment I began to pee. The urine was streaming out of me so fast I could hear the sound of it as it came out. I hadn’t noticed how I’d been holding my breath. I breathed out slowly as my bladder emptied. The expectations that had built up throughout the course of the day were more than exceeded. This was even better than last night, as the amount of water I had chugged before going to bed meant that I peed a lot longer. My sheets were soaked all the way past my knees. The mental exhilaration of peeing myself like an actual bedwetter combined with the physical sensation of the intense warmth from the urine left me in a state of euphoria. There was no sense of shame or embarrassment. It felt so good. It couldn’t possibly be wrong. My only regret was that it had taken me three years to realize that this was an option. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/
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  18. Man you are in the USA and and mentioned the pouch by brand name as squeeze was a brand they used to carry at Dollar General they were marked for putting in kids school lunches or long car trips. You might not find that brand name because parents are idiots and gave them to their infants when the back of the box clearly stated ages 4 and up and to supervise your children. (Children not babies) Scence that brand dissapeard there was another that took it's place with the same exact product line and 3 applesauce flavors but diffrent brand name and the exact design the babyfood pouches use. In other words they been replaced with babysafe versions in my are because parents are illiterate or stupid amd think every food in a pouch is designed for babies and the company didn't want a infant dieing over how stupid their parent is. I swear the human race has gone brain damaged or something. But if you enjoyed the applesauce in the pouch they are now in the baby isle at dollar general because of parents beinvomeing constantly stupider than a bag of bricks. Oh I also forgot to mention the healthy applesauce that kids were eating on lomg car trips and with lunch in schools are not exsistant anymore because a 10yo shure as hell doesn't want to be caught dead eating baby food. So I congradulate the idiot parents on their great job and getting kids to replace applesauce with cheetos.
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  19. My food was changed for some years into infant food. Infant formula 1 and pre - also infant porridge for 4 and 5 months infant. The first weeks was bad - i don´t liked the taste - everything was somehow bland - unseasoned / unsalted. But mommy and granny insisted that I eat/drink it. Over time I got used to infant foo
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  20. Unlike yesterday's Massive Messy Monday Morning's diaper, has anyone ever noticed that often the small poopie in your diaper is the stinkiest? I guess today is 'tinky Tuesday.
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  21. Chapter Seven After a long discussion, the principal assured Ai that what happened to her would never happen again. The only reason it slipped under the radar in the first place was because nobody had ever entered the Academy in diapers before. It also didn't help that she was in mittens, which automatically branded her as a kind of girl who got herself in trouble. The principal suggested "safe word" posters around the school, just in case, and they were up on the walls of every classroom within the week. With her boundaries safeguarded, Ai decided to spend some time at Ageplay Academy. Most of her days were in the Middle classroom, getting in touch with a childhood she never truly had. Other days, she volunteered as a babysitter for the daycare, just to understand the experience. Nothing gripped her quite like that first day, chained to the desk and flooding her diaper, but she never found the courage to return to that room. In truth, the most important and inviting element of Ageplay Academy to Ai was Rin. She was the first person with which Ai had ever had any kind of serious sexual encounter, and she wanted to explore those feelings. Rin was supportive, maybe out of a feeling of obligation or guilt, but Ai was also an attractive woman. Rin was a sucker for hot girls, especially hot girls in diapers. Unfortunately, Ai wasn't into diapers. Or, she said she wasn't. She tried a dozen other roles: "big" to Rin's "little", "disciplinarian" to Rin's "brat", "teacher" to Rin's "student". But despite the premise of the Academy, Ai was too embarrassed to delve deeply into ageplay. As it became more and more apparent that Ai wasn't willing - or maybe ready - to explore the things that brought them together, Ai and Rin started to drift further apart. In every bubble, Ai always did her best to stay for as long as she could. She didn't want to leave behind a place where she could be happy, where she could belong, unless she was absolutely sure it wasn't the right place for her. Sooner or later, that feeling always grew in her heart, that feeling of wanting to see over the next horizon. For Ageplay Academy, that feeling came in less than two weeks. Ai packed a bag. A diaper bag, because diaper bags were in abundance. The principal let her take anything she wanted from their stock; "it's the least I can do," he said. Ai took a few outfits worn by the daycare attendants, and buttoned herself up in a white blouse with dark pants. She was starting to feel like herself again. As she left the storage room, Ai hesitated by the door. She looked back at the room as if it were the entire Academy. All the things she experienced. Her awful introduction. Her adventures in babysitting. Her time with Rin. But one thing lingered a little longer than the rest. She picked up one of the white diapers off the shelf - in her size - and tucked it into her bag. "Just in case," Ai said to herself. "Once I'm outside the bubble, I can know for sure how I feel..." Rin went with Ai to the vending machine where she left her compass. Ai had considered going back for it a few times, but the location felt safe. No one knew about it but her, and it was still her only real possession. After rummaging around under the machine for a minute, Ai stood up and opened the compass. "Aren't you supposed to follow the needle?" Rin asked. "That's how you get back to your bubble, right?" "I'm not trying to go home," Ai said, turning herself in place to find the right path. "Why not?" Rin asked. "I dunno," Ai shrugged. "I got bored..." "You could do anything you wanted, right?" Rin asked, because Ai had talked about home before. "How could that be boring?" "It just was..." Ai didn't know how to explain it. Some bubbles were made up of a hundred people. Those bubbles were shaped by a lot of different minds, and a lot of different wants and needs. People who shared a bubble tended to be grouped together for a reason. Like Ageplay Academy. But other bubbles had fewer inhabitants. Some, like Ai's, only had one. A solitary mind, with singular wants and needs. Ai could make her world any way she wanted it to be. But that was the problem. What she wanted wasn't hers to give; it had to be something she found. She had to look for it, through error and opportunity. So she left. She gave up infinite power in one tiny universe for no power at all in millions. Because out there, in the millions, she had a chance to find where she belonged. She had the chance to find her purpose. "Well if you're going in the opposite direction from the needle, then you can follow it back here, right?" "Yeah, I think so," Ai said. She didn't know if that was how it worked, but she hoped it was. Ai had said goodbye hundreds of times, through hundreds of bubbles, and they always felt the same. A universal feeling, despite all the other inconsistencies. A necessary pain. It didn't seem fair to Ai that, in worlds where people could have pretty much anything they wanted, any pain at all was necessary. But she worried that a world without loss would be a world without love. And what was the fun in that? "I'll miss you." Rin said. "I'll miss you too," Ai said back. "I hope you find it, whatever you're looking for." "I'm getting close," Ai said, and kissed Rin goodbye. It made Ai's stomach flutter with pleasant feelings, but not pleasant enough. Ageplay Academy wasn't far from the edge of its own bubble. On certain nights from certain places, Ai could see the faint shimmering without even leaving the building. As she approached the unworldly surface, she wondered what she was going to face. She wondered what the price she'd paid in leaving all of this behind would buy her. When Ai stepped through the shimmer, the sun was warm and the air was pleasant. The grass beneath her feet was a deep, beautiful aqua, and a lake in the distance glittered gold in the midday sunlight. All around her, trees and bushes curled in beautiful shapes out of the ground, like something from a fairy tale. But most of all, Ai didn't feel anxious to be in a new place. The atmosphere wasn't charged; it was heavy. Heavy and light at the same time, with a wonderful wistfulness to it. In only moments, Ai started to feel very sleepy. Ai wandered down the hill toward the lake. It was in the center of a park, with paths of glass stones and benches with big, cavernous chairs. In the distance, Ai thought she could make out the pink gingham of a blanket. But Ai's feet wouldn't take her much further. She sat down on the edge of the hill and yawned. What... a... beautiful... day... "Mm..." "Hey there, sleepy head," a voice cooed. A familiar voice. But when Ai opened her eyes, she didn't recognize the face. A woman, a little younger than her. A warm smile. Dark, heavy hair. And a diaper in her hands, wringing it gently to open it up. Ai blinked a few times, then looked over at her diaper bag. It was unzipped. And that diaper was... "You had a little accident," the woman smiled. "But don't worry, I'm taking care of it." Ai tried to sit up. Her body was heavy. Her mind was heavy. But sure enough, the dark pants she had worn through the shimmer were wet between the legs. The woman unbuttoned the front of them and began to strip Ai of her wet pants and underwear. "I, um... dunno how that... happened..." Ai said sleepily. "That's okay," the woman laughed. "It happens to my sister all the time. Do you have a name, little one?" "Little... one?" Ai wanted to contend with that nickname, but she felt too sleepy to come up with a good argument. So she answered the question instead. "Ai, um... I'm Ai..." "Nice to meet you, Ai. My name is Aya." Aya. Yeah, that sounded familiar too. But before Ai could try to figure out where she'd heard that name before, her legs were pulled up into the air by an unseen force. The sleepiness took a backseat to sheer surprise, and Ai quickly tried to pull down her shirt. "Shh, shh, no one is going to hurt you," Aya said calmly. "The Specters are just helping out." "Specters...?" Ai asked, as Aya slid the diaper under Ai's bottom. "They're our friends," Aya said cheerily. "They take care of my sister and I. And, well... I suppose you too, now that you're here." "Where... where is here?" "Here," Aya repeated, motioning out to the park, to the lake, to the trees and the gardens all around the both of them. "Eden." "Eden..." Ai rubbed her eyes and the invisible Specters set her back down on the diaper. Aya sprinkled some powder on Ai's skin and pulled it up between her legs. The sound of each tape echoed through the whole world, like faraway bells. And when Ai was once again in diapers, she knew without a doubt that it hadn't been Ageplay Academy that made her feel this way. The diaper was resplendent in the light that seemed to come from everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It felt like a long lost love. It felt like everything she had ever wanted. Ai belonged in Eden. Ai belonged in diapers. "Is Eden a nice place?" Ai asked, because it was the first thought that came into her mind. "It's the best place," Aya said simply. She patted the front of Ai's diaper and helped her off the grass. Right away, Ai stumbled and nearly fell down the hill, but a flurry of invisible forces held her upright. Then, they lifted Ai off the ground completely, just a few inches. She could feel hands grabbing at her, squeezing her ankles and her arms and her diapered butt. But just as quickly as the feelings were there, they were gone, to other places on her body. Ai didn't know if the Specters were invisible people, or a mass of shifting forcefields, or both at the same time. "C'mon, I'll show you around," Aya smiled. Suddenly, the force beneath Ai compressed itself so thickly that it became visible. Bending light and energy, twisting space. But the more it twisted, the finer the form it took. In less than a second, it became its own kind of matter. And that matter shifted in color and appearance, until it looked exactly like an oversized pram. Ai was gently lowered into it, and found it to be soft and comfortable, as if it was never anything but an oversized pram. "What just happened..." Ai asked sleepily, trying to make sense of everything. "Don't think too hard," Aya said softly. "Just let the Specters take care of everything for you." Ai nodded, and the pram started to move on its own. Down the hill of bluish grass, toward the golden lake. Aya followed at its side. "Um, I can... can walk..." Ai tried to argue, but she wasn't sure why. She was so tired, and the pram ride was so cozy. Why would she want to walk? "No need," Aya answered. "Just relax." "Relax..." Ai repeated. That sounded... so lovely... "The Specters can carry you, move you, do everything for you," Aya explained. "They can be anything you need, or anything you want, or… anything, I guess. So you don't have to worry about anything, not a single thing." Not worrying wasn't something Ai was good at. All her life, she'd had an insatiable curiosity, like an itchy fabric in the back of her head, something her skin didn't agree with. But when Aya told her that there was nothing to worry about, Ai believed her. She trusted her, implicitly, like a voice from on high. At first glance, the golden lake didn't look to be particularly big. But as Aya led Ai around it, it seemed to take forever. On the right, they passed a playground. A beach. Trees that looked like cotton candy. An ocean of bubbles, like a giant bath. A pretzel stand. A hot dog stand. A lemonade stand. The night sky, in the middle of the afternoon. A penguin rental kiosk. A castle with an army of empty armor. A very large bed. A very small bed. Paintbrushes. A "Fill" tool, to color anything. Kisses with wings. A spacecraft. Everything, but upside down. Giant mountains made of candles, with flames of fireworks. A musical. The timeline. Lost atmosphere. Corduroy. Mixed tapes. Mixing bowls. Marshmallows. Mars. Honey made of money. Money made of honey. A kickball field. Waterslides. The absence of the descriptor "sticky". Waterfalls of watermelons. Trampolines. Trapezoids. Pennies. Lightning, but small. Clouds, but ice cubes, but warm. The center of a whirlpool, but only the center. Kindergarten. Kind gardens. Mean gardens, but kind when you got to know them. And a million other things Ai didn't have words for. Perhaps, because she didn't need those words anymore, or perhaps because there never were any in the first place. And on the left, there was the golden lake. "Do you understand?" Aya asked. "This is the best place." Ai nodded. Her diaper was soggy and warm, and her mind was alight with arousal. The kind of feeling she had when that girl touched her diaper. That girl, from that other place. Who was she? Where was that? But it didn't feel like that at all. It wasn't sexy; it was pure. It was what all emotion should have been. A warm, soggy diaper, and an endless lifetime of pleasantness. Before long, Ai was lying on the grass and Aya was patting her diapered butt. Ai sunk into the ground like an ice cream on a hot day. She grunted and pushed and effortlessly filled her diaper. And life was perfect. Except... "Ai, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Aya asked. "Mm... nuh uh..." "Where are you from?" Where was she from? Ai didn't know. So she said: "Here." "No, I know... but what about before here?" Aya asked. "No one else has ever come here... I didn't even know there were others, other than my sister and myself. And now you're here." Ai didn't know what to say, but Aya's question seemed like a good one. "Are you a Specter?" Aya asked. "Are you like the pram?" The pram... Ai shook her head. She was not like the pram. She wasn't from here, was she? Aya had convinced Ai that Eden was the best place to be. That there weren't any better places. And if no places were any better, what was the point of discussing other places at all? But Aya was curious, and there was no crueler fate to Ai than a question unanswered. So Ai tried her best to think of one, and the answers came easily to her. Like they were there all along. "I'm from another place, many bubbles away. Like circles touching, and going on and on, and on and on, and on and on..." Ai paused, and for a moment she considered something Aya had said: no one else had ever come here. Aya had never met anyone other than her sister, and now Ai. "What was it like?" Aya asked. "It was..." Ai paused. When she tried to think about all those other bubbles, only one word came to mind. "Different..." "Eden is different," Aya said, almost in defense of it. "There can't possibly be anything anywhere else that doesn't exist here already. Right?" Ai shook her head. She didn't know how to answer Aya's question, so she spoke from the heart. "Everywhere I've been... maybe this is the best one. The best feelings, and... the best of everything. But I guess... if it's the best... then there has to be things that aren't as good. And because they aren't as good, they can't be here, right?" Aya was quiet, but she slowly nodded. "I'm happy to be here," Ai said. "But... I think... I think I was happy to be in those places too, for different reasons. Because the best isn't very good at all without something to compare it to." Ai remembered why she left home in the first place, why a single universe was never going to be enough for her. Because she believed, deep down in her heart, that she wasn't meant to stay still. Perhaps her quest for belonging was never about a destination, but about the journey. She found a little bit of belonging everywhere she went, and in a way, everywhere else belonged to her too. The conversation with Aya continued for eternity. Or it lasted just a few minutes. That was the problem with endlessness: there was no point of reference. No transitions. Nothing to lead you to the next important moment. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Bala asked sharply. She was sitting in a playpen, on foam puzzle piece tiles. Ai was sitting across from her, and walls of plastic surrounded them like mountains surrounded a village. Like a river surrounded a castle. Like a yard surrounded an academy. Bala was dressed in a white onesie, decorated in halos and cartoon wings and the laughter of children and the heat of the universe. Ai looked down at her own clothes, which had changed: a red onesie, with horns and pitchforks and block towers of arrogance and the coldness of space. "Subtle," Ai sighed, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, everything was so clear to her. She remembered her purpose. "I gave you everything you wanted. I gave everybody everything!" Bala balled her hands at her sides. "Do you know how hard it is to make everybody happy? I had to break it all up into a billion pockets. Into tiny happinesses, instead of one big one! But I did it! I did it, and you had to go and ruin it! Why do you have to ruin everything?" "I didn't ruin anything," Ai shot back, balling her own hands at her sides. "You did!" Bala shouted. One baby shouting at another across a plastic, colorful universe. "I put you so far away from us, but you came here anyway. Then you told Aya all about the other places, the other people. You brought sin into Eden. And now she's gonna leave! Maybe not right away, but sooner or later." "Then let her go," Ai fumed. "She can make her own decisions." "Let her go? What do you think happens to the universe when God abandons Heaven? Everyone else does too. The structure of it all, the building blocks... nobody will be happy ever again." "You're wrong," the demon said to the angel. She toddled forward a single step, rattle of Damocles in hand. "I was happier in every other bubble than the one you stuck me in. I was happy, because of the possibilities. Because there was so much to learn and know, and so many new ways to grow and get better." "You think you're any better?" the angel asked. A throne appeared beneath her and she was lifted up into the sky, safely secured with a tray in front. "You're worse than ever before. You're selfish, and you're willing to sacrifice everything I made for everyone else, because you think you're right!" "You hypocrite," the demon hissed, waving her rattle. "You want to condemn me for selfishness, when you trapped all those people here to take care of you? You think I don't know who the Specters are? Was this their wish?" "They can be anything!" Bala screamed. "They can be the stars themselves! They aren't bound by matter or reality or anything! They have all the power they wanted!" "They can't be anything, because you won't let them choose. You're too scared that they'll choose wrong, and they'll blame you." "You don't know anything about me!" Bala said as loud as she could, as loud as the Big Bang. "You want to put everyone in a box of what is 'best'," Ai said angrily, because when someone didn't listen, the best answer was to say it louder. "Just like Aya, and this farce of a paradise. But if something is the 'best', then there's no getting any better. There's no point." "SHUT UP!" The walls of the playpen around Ai and Bala exploded into stardust, along with the chair and the rattle, and the two of them were left alone in the dark. Then Ai felt a pang of something other than anger, a feeling that resonated through the emptiness and through the both of them. Ai felt disappointment, because the universe was at the whims of a true child. "You can't start at the end," Ai said sadly. "Fucking watch me."
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  22. Chapter Six "What do you two think you are doing?" Ms. Lady's voice was sharp and loud, like the sound of breaking glass. Her timing was the opposite of impeccable: only seconds after Ai twitched and spasmed, splattering the inside of her diaper with cum. Her timing was sinful. "Oh, Ms. Lady!" Rin said through labored breaths, struggling to her feet. "I was just, uh... this new student here—" Like the crack of thunder, the ruler came down on the side of Rin's thigh. Ai squinted up at the bleary lights, at the fresh air... she was dizzy and in disbelief. "Both of you, to the principal's office. Now." "Y-yes ma'am..." Rin reached down and helped Ai off the ground. Ai tried to pull away, but she was weak and malleable after her first orgasm. Before she could defend herself to her teacher or her classmates, Rin had dragged her haphazardly into the hall and Ai almost fell down. The diapers between her legs felt thicker than ever, and her mind was fuzzy with conflict. When Ai finally came to, she was sitting in a wooden chair in a long hallway. The door in front of her said "Principal's Office", and Rin was in the chair beside her. When Rin looked over, Ai quickly dropped her gaze. She didn't know what to say... what to do! Ai had no experience with something like this, and her face was burning with embarrassment. "I can't believe you got me in trouble..." Rin's voice was different to the cocky bully in the classroom; she sounded a little pouty, actually. Maybe without an audience, she didn't have any reason to keep up the persona. Or maybe she was genuinely worried about getting in trouble. "You got you in trouble," Ai muttered, trying to argue with Rin in a way that wasn't technically a lie. Everything they had done together, Ai had liked. She hated that she liked it. "Ah, so you're playing it that way," Rin sighed, rolling her eyes. "Well, that isn't what I'll be telling the principal." Ai was so angry, but she didn't have the energy for it. Her body and mind were spent, and Rin was still trying to make it worse for her. But before anything could get worse, the door opened and a head poked out. "The principal will see you girls now." The principal's office was mostly wood decor. The walls were a polished wood, and the large desk was wood as well. It had windows, with soft light streaming through them. Ai wondered where her exit was, and how she would get there. She had to get her compass back. But for now, the principal demanded her attention. He was taller than Ai, but most people were. He was also older, but not by much. Above everything else, he was attractive. "What has gotten into the two of you?" he said with disappointment dripping in his tone. Both Ai and Rin shrunk a little, standing in front of the desk. "She started it," Rin pouted. "I was trying to help her learn her manners, and—" "You're in here once a week," he said to Rin. "It feels like you can't stay out of trouble. But this is the first time I've seen you, Miss..." "Uh... me?" Ai was too distracted by everything that happened to remember why she was here in the first place. "I'm Ai Sinclair, sir. And I'm not from here. I'm trying to get to a different bubble." "Blah blah blah," Rin mocked. "Just another lie to get out of trouble." "I'm not lying," Ai said firmly, but her cheeks were still pink. "Look, she's blushing," Rin teased. Even in front of the principal, it didn't seem like she could behave. "She's loving all this attention. She wants this to happen." "I do not!" Ai said a little louder, and her cheeks took on a bit more color. "You can't assume that stuff just because my face is red! If you'd just... listen..." Something was wrong. Suddenly, everything around Ai was muted and grey, like looking through foggy glass. The room was a little darker, and the expression on Rin's face was frozen mid eye-roll. The principal behind the desk was also frozen, looking a little annoyed. But Ai wasn't frozen, and she was still the same colors as before. "Um... hello...?" Neither of them answered. Ai got a little panicked. "Rin? Hey, Rin?" Ai took a step toward Rin, reached out, and touched her. Suddenly, Rin's colors returned and she took stock of the grey room. "Oh, hey," Rin said, noticing Ai. "Should I be less mean? I feel like I'm being too mean." "I... what? What are you..." Ai shook her head, trying to shake away the nonsense of the situation. If she could just think for a moment... "I can come clean with the principal if you want," Rin suggested. "I'll get in trouble, but that's kind of the point, right?" The confusion on Ai's face must have been evident, because Rin started to become confused too. "You safe-worded, right?" Rin asked. "I... I don't know what you're talking about!" Ai sighed, angry and exhausted. "Woah, hey! No playing in Safe Space. You have to be real." Now Rin seemed annoyed. But as she watched Ai's frustration build, as tears filled her eyes, Rin hesitated. Her annoyance dripped away. "Hey... you know what's going on, right?" Rin asked. "I mean, no games. No pretend. You opened this Safe Space, right?" "I don't know what that means," Ai said again, just as angry and exhausted as the first time. But this time, she sounded a lot more defeated. "Oooh boy. Oh boy oh boy. Shit. I'm so sorry, I should have checked! I just, we don't usually have people who don't understand how things work here. I am so sorry." This wasn't the same Rin. Well, she was the same Rin, but her attitude and demeanor couldn't have been more different. This was a concerned young woman who was realizing that she'd just pushed the limits of someone who didn't know the rules of the game, and she felt awful. But more importantly, this was a person who wanted to make sure that Ai understood everything, and that was Ai's favorite kind of person. "Are you okay? I was really rough with you in there, and if you didn't know that you could safe word that's hugely negligent of me." "I'm... fine? I guess? What are you talking about? What safe word?" Ai's frustration was beginning to wane, though her confusion was not. At least it felt like someone was finally listening to her. "You said 'red', remember?" Rin asked. Had she? Ai tried to go through her own dialogue, but she couldn't be sure. "When you say 'red', it sets up the Safe Space," Rin explained. "You can take any time you need, and anyone you touch enters the Safe Space with you. That way, you can talk about what you need, or what you want to go differently, or whatever. And it doesn't ruin the scene." "This is... a game...?" Ai asked, starting to puzzle it out. "You're all playing a... a weird... dress-up diaper game?" "Uh, yeah..." Rin blushed a little and twirled the ends of her hair. "For some people, it's just a way to play and relax. For others, it's kind of like a kink? Sexy, you know?" "I don't know," Ai said bluntly. "Why would I know this!" "Well, you were put in the brat classroom!" Rin said in her defense. "I just thought... I mean, you were really convincing..." "Convincing that I didn't want to be treated like that?" Ai asked rhetorically. "Yeah, because I didn't want to be treated like that!" "Look, I'm so sorry! It's not usually my job to check stuff like that; we have staff. But when you didn't safe word, I should have known. I'm... I'm not trying to shirk my responsibility here. I'm just trying to explain." Ai hesitated. She wanted to hate Rin, but she seemed so sincere. And in retrospect, looking back, it all seemed so made up. Like a play. Of course it was a play... but Ai had never been to a bubble like this one before... "Okay... I believe you," Ai finally said, crossing her arms. She looked down at her own outfit, then up at Rin's. They were both still in their diapers, and Rin's was full. Thankfully, the time-stop seemed to prevent the smell from getting through. An important stipulation, surely. "I can talk with the others and let them know that you weren't informed, and they won't ever mention that scene again. It will be like it never happened. I'm really upset that nobody told you. I was having a great time, and I thought you were too, and now… well, I just feel so guilty. And like, I'm not blaming you for that! I just wish whoever dropped the ball… well, hadn't." "No, um... it's... a misunderstanding, I guess..." Probably the biggest misunderstanding of Ai's life, but sometimes that came with the territory of bubble hopping. Now that everything was starting to make more sense, Ai felt a little twinge of embarrassment. "It wasn't so bad," Ai admitted shyly. "I don't know why I acted like that... and I don't even know why I'm bringing this up." "Safe Space does that," Rin explained. "It tries to coax the truth out of you, so you can express yourself. And since you opened this Safe Space, I'm actually more inclined to listen and believe you. Which... is maybe why I didn't listen before..." Rin paused a moment, lost in thought, then continued her explanation. "As for your feelings when we... uh... ya know... don't be too embarrassed about that. A lot of feelings are amplified at Ageplay Academy, like how it feels when you wet a diaper. Or if someone touches you in one. It's like turning up all your feelings to eleven. Even the teachers and caregivers feel it, but it's different for them." "Right... so even if I don't like any of this stuff, the rules of this bubble make me like it?" "Well, no, it should just amplify it..." Rin paused for a moment. To her knowledge, a Big didn't feel the same things a Little did. Rin herself had experimented with different roles, but nothing ever felt as good as bratting. "Well, maybe something went wrong," Rin shrugged. "You came into this bubble in a diaper already, right? It could have messed with things." "Yeah, that makes sense..." But if Ai thought too hard about it, she would find that it didn't really make sense at all. Something else was pulling her strings. "We should explain all this to the principal," Rin urged. "Just touch him and it'll draw him into the Safe Space. And when you are ready to close it, when you feel safe, just say 'green'." Ai nodded. She still had a lot of explaining to do.
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  23. Chapter Five Ai Sinclair had no memory of wearing a diaper. She had no memory of wetting one. She probably had, because that was what babyhood was like. But unlike most kids she met in her travels, Ai didn't have parents. She never had a babyhood, as far as she could remember. If she thought hard about it, her imagination could fill in the gaps: the tension of a blanket swaddling her shoulders, or the sight of looking up at someone as they wiped her skin clean. But Ai had lived for a long time in her bubble, and she'd never known anything about aging until she'd left. That was the thing about bubbles. They're just... different. But nothing was quite so different as the feeling of soaking her diaper. The heat on her skin. The sodden padding, growing thicker and thicker. The uncontrollable bliss... the blissful lack of control. And it seemed to go on forever. It didn't stop. Never in her entire life had she peed for so long, and never with anybody watching her. Ai's humiliation got the better of her, and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the teacher or her classmates. She wanted to pretend they didn't exist; out of sight, out of mind. But with another one of her senses stripped away, others lit up like fireworks. The tingling between her legs. The warmth on her cheeks. The sharp inhales and exhales as Ai lost control of her breathing. Her fingers trembled in the mittens. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. And it just... didn't... stop... Soon, the diaper between her legs was heavy and warm and pleasant. Her mind was swirling with a thousand feelings, but not a single thought. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she opened her glossy eyes. Everyone was still there; they didn't disappear. They were still watching her, and Ai had never been so embarrassed. "Well, it seems someone had a little accident," Ms. Lady teased. Her voice felt like daggers, slicing up Ai's pride into ribbons. Ai wanted to argue that it wasn't her fault, that Ms. Lady wouldn't let her use the restroom, but her words were frozen in her throat. Her brain wasn't sending the right signals anymore. All she felt was... good. So, so good. Ms. Lady went back to teaching the class, and Ai sunk lower into her seat. The diaper was so squishy beneath her, and Ai made the mistake of squeezing her legs together. The plastic crinkled and a shiver zipped up her spine. Involuntarily, she did it again. And again. And again. Ai hung her head in shame, and in an effort to mask her shallow breathing. To hide her pink cheeks. To steer her focus away from Ms. Lady and the classroom and toward the willpower to stop what she was doing. But there wasn't enough willpower in all of Ai's mind or body. For the next ten minutes, she squirmed and crinkled and flooded herself with undeniable pleasure. At the same time, and somewhat paradoxically, the students seemed both entranced with Ai and entirely dismissive of her. No one was watching her, but any time she looked away, she could feel the attention of her classmates. She could almost hear the things they were thinking about her. How Ai was just one step away from Henry's fate: a mushy-bottomed toe sucker. Ai's breathing was still shallow, and every now and again little gasps would escape her lips. How she longed to cover her mouth with her hand. "That's all for today, class," Ms. Lady finally said, shaking Ai from her introspection. The ropes around her wrists unfurled, as they did with everyone else in the classroom. "Tomorrow's class is about etiquette, and I expect you all to be dressed appropriately," Ms, Lady said, sharply pointing her words at Ai. Unbound at the ankles and the wrists, Ai could get up. But getting up was a little dizzying. She was still adapting to all the sensations of her wet diaper, and even lifting her bottom up off the chair caused so many new ones. The tug on her hips, as the heavy padding sagged between her legs. The squishiness in all new places. Finally, Ai gave up and sat back down, resting her head on her mittened hands. "Hey there new girl." Ai lifted her head just enough to see Rin standing over her desk. She was leaning on one foot, twirling her hair with her finger. She smiled sweetly. Sickly so. "Seems like you really had a good time in class," she teased. "Shut up," Ai muttered, putting her head back down. Every muscle in her body felt tense and weak at the same time. "You must really love your diapers, hm? Pissing yourself like that in front of everyone, then moaning like a little slut?" Ai raised her head and glared at Rin. She knew a slut wasn't exactly a bad thing to be, but Ai didn't have much experience. Sex wasn't a thing in her original bubble, but Ai knew enough to be offended by Rin's implication. "What's your problem?" Ai said sharply. "I didn't do anything to you." "My problem? I don't have a problem. Do you?" Rin asked rhetorically. "It seems like you had a really good time, that's all. Did you like it when I stared at you like that? When I watched your widdle assident?" The last two words from Rin's mouth were twisted into baby talk, and Ai was struggling to keep up with her logic. Her head was swimming. Or drowning. She couldn't even tell. She tried to get a word in between Rin's, but the other girl just kept talking. It was like one unbroken sentence, moving from topic to topic, and Ai couldn't find a spot to interrupt. It was kind of hypnotic. "It makes sense that a pervert like you would be obsessed with me though; I'm kind of a big deal around here. You're lucky that I'm even talking to a little diaper dork like you." The fact that Rin was in a diaper too didn't seem to matter. "And not only are you a pervy little dork, but you're rude too! You haven't even thanked me for my attention." "I'm not thanking you for anything," Ai said fiercely. She knew different bubbles had different rules, but she always stood up for herself when she thought she was being treated unfairly. Communication was important, after all. "Aww, you think you're such a big girl," Rin cooed. "But this behavior of yours isn't very mature at all. It's rather childish, actually." "Because acting like a bully is so grown up?" Ai shot back. Then a low chorus of "ooo"s flooded the room. Ai looked around to find the rest of the class watching from the sidelines. Somehow, their argument had become a spectacle. "Oh, oh, you think I'm a bully?" Rin crossed her arms, and looked over her shoulders to the left and to the right, at the gathered crowd. "You hear that, y'all? This baby slut diaper dork thinks that I'm a bully. It sure sounds like she's never known what it means to be bullied before, doesn't it?" Her attention shifted back to Ai and she smirked confidently. "Maybe I should show you what bullying looks like?" Ai felt a pang of anxiety. Most of the people in her travels were rather kind; there was no history of abuse or violence or neglect. Every now and again Ai's ethics and morals didn't quite line up with the worlds she visited, but almost all of them were respectful of their differences. Once or twice, in extreme cases, she was asked to leave. But what happened at the King's Kingdom and what was happening now seemed so disproportionately violating. "Whatever," Ai sighed, trying to tone down her frustration. She got to her feet with every intention of walking out of the classroom, but the weight on her hips was startling. The diaper sagged halfway down her thighs, and she almost lost her balance. Her agitation was whisked away, replaced with embarrassment and fervor. Ai blushed deeper than before. "Oh? Whatever? Did you mean, whatever you say, Miss Rin. I'm a little diaper brat who needs to be put in her place? Is that what you meant?" Rin stepped directly in Ai's way and gave her a shove. Ai held onto one of the desks and managed to stay standing, but the heavy padding between her legs caused her to lose her footing. With another shove, Rin pushed Ai backward, away from the door and toward the crowd of students. They dispersed, giving space for Rin and Ai to have their tussle. "Oh my gosh, what is your problem!" Ai said angrily, losing her composure. Every step in her soaking wet diaper was a rush of new sensations, each one stealing more and more of Ai's breath. So when Rin stepped toward her again, Ai panicked and shoved her right back. Ai had been in fights before, but none were so inelegant. They were demonstrations, like a show of strength. Or they were customary, like a call and response. Sometimes fights were acceptable, sometimes they were necessary, and sometimes they were lauded. But this was none of those. This was a total mess. Rin didn't strike or attack Ai; she tugged on her clothes and pulled her hair. Ai, realizing very quickly how immobile she was in such a thick diaper, mirrored Rin. In the end, Ai was knocked onto the floor, landing on her padded behind with a squish and a shiver. She was out of breath and her body tingled in an unbelievably pleasant way. Her face was red with embarrassment. Rin stood over Ai with her hands on her hips and a wicked smile on her face. Rin stepped forward twice, so that each of her feet was on either side of Ai's hips. From that position of power, she descended and sat her ass upon Ai's stomach, pinning her in place. She grabbed Ai's wrists, one in each hand, and held those down too. "Pinned on the ground by a girl in a diaper? You're so pathetic." Ai was awash with conflict. On one hand, everything Rin said sounded like something on a radio drama. That's where she learned about bullies to begin with, since she had never gone to a proper school. It was so stupid, it was almost laughable. But on the other hand, Ai's body was flooded with gooey emotions and her soggy diaper begged to be squished and rubbed. And a girl was on top of her? For the first time in a very long time, Ai wanted to kiss somebody. "Y-you're... um... lemme..." Ai's conflict was a terribly slow tug of war. It was humiliating, and the entire class was looking down on her. Literally and figuratively. "Tsk tsk... you really should learn your manners," Rin teased. "If you'd just thank me for all this attention..." Ai shook her head; it was all her determination would allow. Rin sighed, clucking her tongue in that universally chastising way, that way that everyone understood. "Well, lucky for you, I'm really good at teaching little brats how to be polite and grateful." She kept Ai pinned to the ground and looked up at the gawking students. "Aren't I?" Rin asked. There were a few quiet mumbles, all of which sounded affirmative, and some nods of the head. But there were a lot of blushing cheeks. Before Ai could come up with a solution, Rin pulled Ai's wrists down to her sides and spun around on her tummy. With her knees on either side of Ai, she pinned her arms in place and arched her back. Rin's diaper was on full display, only inches from Ai's face. It was thick and swollen, forcing Rin's legs apart. Ai could see the faint line halfway up her backside, where the pure white padding changed to a muted yellow. "Goodness, what a cute little print," Rin teased, lifting Ai's dress. "Everybody, come look at the new kid's diaper! It's like it was made for a baby!" Then Rin pressed her hand to Ai's diaper, causing her to shiver involuntarily beneath the bully. The rush of pleasure was intense, but it quickly capsized to violent waves of humiliation. "Oh my gosh, did you all see that?" Rin mocked. "She's like a little toy, look! I push the button~" Rin pressed her hand expertly against Ai's diaper and grinned, pressing fingers into the padding like a skilled artist crafting from clay. Then she flattened her palm, forcing the sodden, swollen padding up against Ai's intimates. Ai shivered, and let out the cutest little noises. "And she moves and makes sounds!" Rin went on. "Maybe that's why you don't have any manners, diaper dork; maybe you're just a toy who doesn't have that function. Maybe you're just for playing with? Is that right?" "Lemme... up..." Ai tried to throw Rin off of her, with no success. It felt insurmountable, like moving a mountain. "No, no," Rin tsked. "Toys don't give orders. Toys get played with. You don't think you still have any power, do you?" She squeezed Ai's diaper again and Ai whined a needy whine. "You know, if you'd just used your manners, I might have even mistaken you for a sweet little girl. But you're not, are you? You're a naughty little toy." Each of Rin's ministrations had been precise, planned, and theatrical. What Rin did next was much more chaotic: she began to knead at Ai's diaper like a cat kneading a blanket, like the padding was dough. And as she kneaded, she began to rock on her knees, shifting her diaper closer and closer to Ai's face. Ai couldn't focus on any one thing. The pleasure from the soggy diaper. The words Rin used to humiliate her. The sight of everyone looking down on her. The gentle press of plastic against her nose, as Rin sat back onto her face. She knew she had gotten into this mess herself, but the way out was shrouded in smoke and mirrors. "You're the most helpless little diaper dork I've ever met," Rin jeered. She seemed to be having the time of her life. "Even a brat in a diaper like me can top you. Could this be any more humiliating for you?" Ai thought, with resounding certainty: no. Rin thought, with resounding certainty: yes. "You're clearly at the bottom of the social ladder. You're clearly helpless. You're clearly just a toy to be played with. So I should treat you exactly the way that I'd treat any of my other stuffies. Any of my other toys." There were some gasps from the people that had gathered; some knowing sounds and mumbles. "I can't believe you're going to let me do this to you, diaper dork. But you're such a pervert that you're probably getting off on it." Rin leaned forward and her diaper pressed ever-closer to Ai's face. Ai tried to turn her head, but the soft squish of Rin's diaper pressed into her cheek. It left an imprint in the padding, contouring around Ai's nose and chin. The faint smell of pee from inside Rin's diaper wafted around Ai's face. Ai was about to thrash again, to push Rin off, when the bully pressed on the front of her diaper and Ai moaned involuntarily into the bully's padding. Rin arched her back a bit more and the seat of her diaper began to swell. The padding was soft and mushy as it warped around Ai's face, covering her lips and her nose. Then the smell of pee mixed with something new and Ai realized: Rin was pooping her diaper while sitting on her face! Ai reeled and whimpered, kicking and twisting to throw Rin off, but Rin held her ground. Grunting and pushing, the diaper grew bigger and bigger. It was almost comical, the way her diaper ballooned out. It continued to swell until Ai's whole face pressed into it like a fluffy pillow. She could still breathe, but Ai almost wished she couldn't. "Wow. You just stayed down there the entire time," Rin teased. She sounded a little out of breath, and her cheeks sparkled with perspiration. "You must really enjoy this!" As Rin leaned back, she arched her back and raised her arms to stretch, using Ai's face as a seat for her mushy bottom. The crowd mumbled and gossiped and made declarations about the kind of girl Ai Sinclair truly was. Now she had a reputation, and it would only become cemented in the coming minutes. Rin leaned forward again. This time, when she began to rub Ai's diaper, it wasn't to tease or interrupt Ai's arguments; this time, it was with intent. "How pathetic," Rin's voice rung in Ai's ears. "It's one thing to be a little diaper dork, or a helpless toy to play with. But to let a girl fill her diaper on your face? To whimper and moan while you bury your face into my stinky diaper?" Ai hated Rin. And not because Rin was teasing her, but because Rin was right. Because ever since she'd wet her diaper, the feelings inside of Ai had been overwhelming. Lust and desperation she had never known. Sex itself was an uncomfortable urge at best, something Ai had gone her entire life without much interest in. And now, in a soaking wet diaper, with her face plunged into the seat of another girl's messy diaper, she was more turned on than ever. Even Rin's taunts weren't enough to quell her libido. For the first time in her known life, Ai really wanted to cum. She hoped her pride and self-control would be enough to triumph over her desire, but nothing had ever stopped nor could ever stop Ai Sinclair from getting what she wanted. Not even herself.
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  24. Chapter Three Ai was still trembling, even fifteen minutes after the spanking was over. The queen had taken her by the hand and led her down the halls of the empty castle. She was talking about something, but Ai was struggling to focus. Her body was alight with adrenaline, but she was tired at the same time. "Now, Ice and Claire, it's not proper for the king's justice to be suspended, so we certainly need a reason for it, otherwise you'll be right back on his lap before you know it. You're such a small little thing, though… I think we can come up with something." Ai nodded. She didn't know what she was agreeing to, but anything was better than getting spanked like that again. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life, and nothing had hurt her quite so badly. Sure, she'd had a few concussions. She broke her leg once, and two of her fingers. But there was something about that spanking that made all that seem like gentle bruising. Perhaps that was just the way spankings felt, or perhaps the king himself had something to do with it. The queen led Ai up the stairs of a tower and into the room at the top. There was a bed with curtains above and around it. There was some white furniture that really seemed to bring out the brightness of the grey stone walls. But most importantly, there was a balcony. It overlooked the forest, but not the way she had come. That's when Ai realized she didn't have her backpack. Or her compass. "Your Majesty, could I please—" "Ah, ah," the queen interrupted. "You know better than to call me that." Ai had to pause to remember what it was the queen was talking about. The spanking and the conversation that followed were nothing but a blurry memory to her. When Ai finally pieced it together, a blush came over her cheeks. "Um... Mommy..." Ai muttered. She had never called anyone that before, not once in her life. She knew what a Mommy was; she'd seen it enough times. The parent to a child. Specifically a woman, and specifically a very young child. A child with no autonomy, who relied on the parent for every little thing. Ai felt embarrassed, having put herself in that category. But there were more pressing concerns. "Could I please have my backpack?" Ai asked. "When you're done with your discipline, you can have your belongings back," the queen said simply, and Ai knew there wasn't room to argue. "Let's get you dressed, Ice and Claire," the queen said, motioning to the bed. "It's inappropriate for you to be wearing clothes you picked out." "My clothes are in my backpack," Ai argued, but the queen didn't seem deterred at all. She went over to a wardrobe in the corner and Ai sat on the edge of the bed. She couldn't go through all those spankings again, so she had to figure out a way to get her backpack back. Maybe it was still in the throne room. The queen turned around with a puffy pink dress in her hands, the kind of dress Ai had only ever seen on little girls in fancy houses. And, well, the castle was kind of a fancy house. But Ai wasn't a little girl. "I don't really like dresses," Ai tried to tell the queen. "Dresses are easy access for the king and me, Ice and Claire. And that's important, because you may need to be checked on." Easy access as a term sent a shiver up Ai's spine. Why did they need access to anything under her skirt? The only thing that came to mind was more of those spankings... was the dress a reminder to behave? With a reluctant sigh, Ai reached for the dress. "Oh, no no," the queen said sweetly. "I'll get you dressed. I'm your Mommy, after all, aren't I?" Ai didn't answer, but that was answer enough. The taller woman stripped off Ai's shirt and pants, leaving her in nothing but her wet underwear. Ai blushed, looking down at her feet and covering her bare chest with her arms. "These too," the queen said, pulling down Ai's panties. Ai reached to grab them, but the queen slapped her hands away. "Please, I can change myself..." "Nonsense," the queen said simply. Then she unfolded a pair of underwear that Ai didn't recognize, not at first. They weren't made of the same kind of material of any panties Ai had ever seen. But when the woman prompted her to step into them, she realized why. They were the same kind that little kids wore when they were potty training. "Wait, hold on. Why do I have to wear those training pants?" Ai asked incredulously. "Well, you got your other panties all wet," the queen said simply. "Well, yeah, but... you don't think I wet those, do you? That awful forest nymph threw me in the river!" Ai was blushing furiously. "Then you'll be able to keep your pull-ups dry," the queen countered. "Pull-ups?" Another name for the training pants, no doubt. Ai shook her head. "Absolutely not! You have the wrong idea!" "If you won't do as you're told," the queen said coldly, "you can go over Daddy's lap instead." Ai froze. Her heart rate doubled and panic zipped up her spine. The fact that the woman had referred to the king as her Daddy was just another straw on the camel's back for Ai Sinclair, but fear gripped her like a noose. She was too scared to even breathe, for just a moment, and stars appeared at the edges of her vision. "What will it be, Ice and Claire?" the queen asked. Ai looked down at her feet shyly and stepped into the training pants. *** Over the next few days, things only got worse for Ai Sinclair. The queen had an endless supply of little girl dresses, and she did everything from feeding Ai to giving her a bath. She would give Ai cups with lids full of milk, and the milk would make Ai's thoughts fuzzy for a few hours. But the worst part was, the queen seemed intent on getting Ai to have an accident. At first, it was just a lot of water and milk, so much that it was an inconvenience. Ai had to get up every hour to use the bathroom. Then the queen would plan walks around the garden, and try to keep Ai out for long periods of time. Then the queen started locking the bathroom door, so that Ai had to ask permission. But through all the trials, Ai always managed to keep her pull-up dry. Whenever Ai had any free time, she searched for her backpack. It wasn't in the throne room, and the castle was massive. Finally, the queen let it slip that it had been put in the royal bedroom for safekeeping, but the door was always locked. Objectively, Ai could always ask Daddy for the rest of her spankings. But she had seventeen sets of ten remaining, and any time she even thought about it she would panic. As much as Ai hated it, the reasonable way out wasn't a viable one. She had to find another way, and it came in the form of a silver lining. Of all of Queen Errata's inexplicable behaviors, Ai hated one more than the rest: though the queen would talk constantly to Ai, she never once listened. Even if Ai tried to engage in the conversation, she was dismissed or actively ignored. It reminded Ai of how a child talks to a doll or a cat. But it was from one of these soliloquies that Ai got an idea. "I don't see why you insist on keeping up this big girl act," the queen sighed, after yet another trip to the bathroom. "There are a lot of perks that only a little girl can get." Ai ruminated all day on what the queen meant by that, and if maybe one of those perks could get her closer to her backpack. That night, before the queen got Ai ready for bed, Ai tugged on her dress as cutely as possible and played her hand. "Mommy..." she said shyly. "Um, I was thinking about what you were saying. And at night, I get kind of scared all alone in here..." "Oh?" The queen didn't take Ai for a woman that was afraid of the dark. But the queen truly did see Ai as a little girl. "You said little girls get perks, so, um... if I were a little girl, would I be able to sleep with you and Daddy?" The queen's eyes lit up and she enthusiastically nodded her head. This lasted only a moment before she regained her composure. "Absolutely, Ice and Claire. Little girls get to sleep with Mommy and Daddy. Of course... a little girl must be properly dressed for bed, as not to have any night time accidents in the royal bed. And your pull-ups are certainly not sufficient." Ai knew part of this plan would involve a few embarrassing concessions, but she wasn't entirely sure what that looked like. The queen wanted to treat Ai like a little girl, to make Ai reliant on her, and Ai was determined to do her best to prove otherwise. What would happen when she gave up? "Yes, Mommy..." Ai muttered shyly. "Whatever you think is best..." Those magic words were far more potent than manners; those were the words that the queen wanted taught to all royal charges. She smiled blissfully, because she was getting everything she wanted. But there was mischief in her eyes. "Up on the bed," she said. Ai sighed and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Her feet barely touched the ground, and the bed was bigger than ones she was used to. This whole world made her feel a little smaller than the others, or maybe it was the constant doting from the queen. The queen went to an ever-present dresser on the far side of the room. When she returned, the queen set down some stuff on the bed beside Ai: a square of folded plastic and a pair of pink fluffy ovals covered in bells. Ai recognized the diaper at first glance. She had never seen one that big, and it didn't really look anything like the others she had seen for actual babies, but she just knew. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and an indescribable anxiety filled the space. The other things, though… Ai searched through the mental catalogue she had accumulated over her travels, but the results came back empty. She looked nervously up at Mommy for answers. "Queen Mommy and King Daddy are sound sleepers, and we like to sleep in. So a nighttime diaper is a must for my little Princess-to-Be, and some mittens for your hands to keep you from fidgeting." Ai didn't know what mittens were, but it seemed like they were meant to keep her from using her fingers. But then how was she supposed to get her backpack? Ai felt like the ground was falling out beneath her feet. She had to do something. "But I'm... I don't need those, um... I don't fidget, really. I won't touch anything, I swear." And anyway, how were bells supposed to help her stop fidgeting? Ai felt like she was missing something crucial to winning her argument, but challenging the queen felt too dangerous. "Well, just as Daddy doesn't make alliances with kingdoms he hasn't visited, we can't have you sleeping in the royal bed without proving that you won't be a problem. Doesn't that make sense, Ice and Claire? Now, lay down upon the bed, sweet girl." "But... I, swear, I'm—" "Unless you'd rather sleep alone in the dark?" the queen offered. Ai hesitated. She was giving up the only card she had, giving the queen everything she wanted, and there was a good chance she wouldn't be able to get what she needed out of it. But if she went back on her deal, it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, she'd have an accident and the queen would get her way anyway. So, with a defeated sigh, Ai laid back on the bed and looked up at the canopy. "That's very royal behavior." Which was, Ai supposed, the highest compliment that her Mommy could pay her. As Ai pondered her next move, her Mommy stripped her of the pull-up and lifted her legs. She unfolded the diaper and slid it beneath Ai's bare bottom before pulling it up between her thighs. "You're never going to have to worry about accidents again, my little girl. And there are so many perks," the Queen cooed. Ai was only half listening, if at all. It was the first time Ai could remember anyone putting her in a diaper, and it felt so routine. The familiarity was dizzying, like a book she had read a thousand times. Not a single word was new, not a single piece of punctuation was surprising. And all the same, Ai's cheeks were red with embarrassment as her Mommy taped the diaper around her hips. When it was over, when the queen pulled Ai to her feet, the familiarity vanished, but the embarrassment did not. The thickness between her legs was nothing like the pull-up, and Ai worried she wouldn't even be able to walk. She tried to act like none of this was bothering her, but Ai looked up at Mommy with such shyness. "You'll get used to it, Ice and Claire, and you'll soon wonder how you were ever not a little girl. Now hold up your hand, like this." The queen held out her hand to demonstrate, and waited for Ai to do the same. Then she fetched the first of the two jingly mittens. Ai watched carefully as her Mommy put the mitten on. Two bells, one on each side. An elastic part around the wrist. Mommy slid the fabric over Ai's hand and pulled a strap around the elastic, which clicked shut with a press. Like a lock, but there was no place for a key. Then she did the same with the other hand. Ai tried to ball her hand into a fist, to warp her wrist a little to get as much leverage as she could, but the tall woman flattened her hand inside the mitten and tightened it all the same. Ai reached over with one mitten to pull the other off, but she couldn't get a good grip. The inside was lined with some kind of padding, and the bells jingled with each of Ai's movements. "Sleeping girls don't need their hands, so this shouldn't be any problem at all for you, should it?" the queen asked, but it was a rhetorical question. "Don't fret and fuss, Ice and Claire. Just like your diapers, you'll get used to them." The queen stripped Ai of her dress and pulled a nightie over her head. Without the use of her hands, with her thighs spread apart, and with the height difference between her and her caregiver, Ai realized exactly how helpless she was. Then the queen picked her up and set her on her hip like Ai didn't weigh anything at all. The front of her diaper pressed into her Mommy's side and all Ai's plans of rebellion began to dissolve like sugar in water. The queen carried her charge from the little girl's bedroom, down the hall, up three flights of stairs - each more grand than the one before it - and finally into the royal bedroom. The king was already waiting inside, and seemed to already know what was going on. "Well, I was wondering when you would arrive, my dears. Ice and Claire, you do look positively exhausted and ready for sleep. Doesn't she, dear?" "She does," Mommy agreed, as she walked to the large bed in the center of the room. But she didn't set Ai down on the bed. Instead, she took a seat and put Ai on her lap, on her padded bottom. Her mittens jingled as she tried to hold onto her Mommy's clothes. "Now, my darling," Mommy whispered in Ai's ear. "You truly want to be my little girl? Are you absolutely sure?" Ai looked up at her with burning red cheeks. She certainly did not want that! But then she caught sight of her backpack in the corner. It was wrapped around a chair, only a few feet from the bed... With a deep breath, Ai nodded her head. "Yes, Mommy..." "Then you'll need to go to bed with a full tummy, so you wake up with a full diaper. That's appropriate for a girl your age I would say." One hand held Ai in place, like she was simply stabilizing an infant in her lap, as the other did something Ai didn't expect: it unbuttoned the top clasps of her dress. It wasn't until Mommy's bare breast was pulled from her bodice that Ai realized what was happening. A panic welled up in her so quickly that she couldn't stop it. "No, no way!" Mommy gave her a look of curiosity and Daddy crossed his arms sternly. Ai quickly backpedaled. "I... I mean... that's... a bit too far, isn't it? That's..." That was something Ai had seen done only a few times in her entire life, always by women with newborns. Every time, it made Ai blush and she had to excuse herself from the room, though her response was always quite disproportionate to the situation. "If you're to be of royal blood, then you must drink royal milk," Daddy explained, keeping his composure. "This is a divine privilege, Ice and Claire. Not many people are offered this, and many would die for it. You should be more grateful." "R-right, but... I just..." "If you'd rather finish your spankings, you can go on your way," the queen said coldly, and ice ran through Ai's blood. "N-no..." Ai was stuck between a breast and a hard spank. She tried to think of a way out of it - of any way out of it! - but time was up. Mommy cradled Ai in her arms and put Ai's lips to her chest. With a tight pull on her hair, Ai opened her mouth and latched onto Mommy's nipple. The humiliation was unbearable, but it didn't last long. Warm, sweet milk dribbled into Ai's mouth and she felt fuzzy and warm all over. Mommy's heartbeat was deep in her ear, echoing through her brain. And suddenly, all of Ai's problems melted away. It was the first time since meeting Queen Errata that she and Ai connected on something. It was spiritual and intangible. It was magic. And Ai felt things she had never felt for her Mommy: patience, curiosity, empathy… In this new light, Ai wondered if maybe the queen was doing all this for some other reason than to torture her. That maybe Ai didn't find where she belonged in the King's Kingdom, but her Mommy found where she belonged in Ai Sinclair. That maybe, since Ai hadn't yet found her own happy ending, she could be someone else's instead. It could have lasted a single minute or an eternity. Eventually Ai was removed from the queen's breast, but the feelings didn't go away. Her eyes were glossy, and as her Mommy spoke to her, Ai agreed absentmindedly. "You're a good baby girl, aren't you?" Nod. "You are so happy to be in diapers, aren't you?" Nod. "You never want to grow up again, isn't that right?" Nod. "You'll live as my baby girl, and you'll feel like this forever. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" Nod. "Say it." "Wonderful... to be your baby... forever..." Ai's voice was slurred, unable to put in enough effort to form the words correctly. Why would she need words? She was just a little baby. Ai was tucked into bed, flanked by Mommy and Daddy. Her diaper was soft between her legs, and her head was sticky with thoughts of the rest of her life. A happy, blissful life with Mommy and Daddy. Maybe this was where she always belonged after all.
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  25. Chapter Two Suddenly, everything was different. The evening sky turned mid-afternoon. The snow vanished and the fluffy grass beneath poked up. The mountain wasn't so steep anymore, more like a hill, and all the mountains on the horizon were replaced with thick, autumn trees. But one thing stayed the same: Ai's momentum. The canvas sled skipped across the grass a few times before friction got the best of it, and Ai was thrown off. She landed on her hip and tumbled down the hill on her side, eventually sliding to a halt near the bottom. "Ow," Ai said to herself, struggling to sit up. She rubbed her shoulder, which broke some of her fall. Then she wiggled her fingers and toes, just to make sure everything was still working okay. Other than a few scratches and a lot of sore muscles, Ai was just fine. "Well, where am I now..." Ai said to herself, fumbling for her compass. It pointed back the way she had come, up the hill. She turned and looked at the forest in the opposite direction. Under the canopy, the grass was littered with fallen leaves, orange and yellow and brown. A gentle breeze would sometimes pick them up and scatter them around, like moving around paint on a canvas, trying to cover up every blade of grass. There was a crispness in the air that made Ai think about apples. She hadn't had an apple in a long time. Ai took her first step into the forest, because her compass told her not to and for no other reason. The forest was tranquil and lively at the same time, and Ai immediately took a liking to it. Unlike the last bubble she was in, this one had animals. Deer. Deer with antlers. Rabbits. Rabbits with antlers. She had never seen a rabbit with antlers before. She offered one an M&M, but it ran into the brush. With a shrug, Ai continued onward. As the day went on, the wind brought a gentle song to her ears. The leaves were swept around and set down once again, leaving a path of yellow and green grass. Without thinking too much about it, the path and the song led her to the edge of the wood. In front of her was a river of sparkling blue water, and on the other side, a large stone castle. Ai's admiration lasted only a second before it was swiftly interrupted by a rumble at her feet, and vines sprung up around her. They twisted themselves with impressive speed into a tight cage, trapping her inside. The melody on the air fell away, and was replaced with a woman's voice. "Trespasser!" it boomed, and a woman rose up out of the river in front of Ai. Her skin was blue and shimmery, almost translucent, and her clothes were barely clothes at all. They were made of water, with rushes of bubbles to cloud particular parts of her body. Another woman dropped down from the trees behind Ai. She had green skin, her clothes were made of leaves, and her hair was decorated in flowers. She also had antlers on her head, just like the animals in the wood. They both looked annoyed and curious at Ai Sinclair. "Who are you?" asked the woman who came from the trees, though it sounded more like she was demanding an answer than asking for one. "I'm Ai Sinclair," Ai said. "And I'm not trespassing. I'm walking through. "Walking through without permission is trespassing," said the woman in the water. Ai sighed to herself. She had been in bubbles like this before, with magical denizens. Ai used to have magic too, a long time ago, but she gave it up for other things. Exploration. Possibility. "Please, I'm just trying to get to the other side of your kingdom," Ai explained. "If you'd let me go—" "Let you go?" the woman in the water gasped. "You've broken the law. You have to be sentenced by the king!" "Yes, the king," the woman from the trees agreed, and suddenly the wooden cage began to shake. It tumbled forward into the river with Ai inside. "Hey! Watch it!" Ai shouted, trying to kick at the cage. But whatever magic the forest nymph used was strong. The water lurched and spun the cage, causing Ai to sink underwater, only to bob back up again for air. She clung the wooden bars of her cell for dear life as it drifted along with the river current. All the while, the two women laughed. It wasn't long before the cage arrived at a stone bridge. Water rose up underneath Ai and she fell roughly on the bridge, cage and all. She coughed up water and rolled onto her back, vines and sticks digging into her coat. "This is why I hate magic," she said more to herself than the two women. "It makes people so entitled." "Us? Entitled?" the woman in the water said. "You're the one trespassing!" the flower-dressed woman added, standing on the grassy bank. "Good point," Ai sighed, not wanting to fight with her captors. Maybe once she met this so-called king... "Oh, and what's this one?" The new voice was one of a young man in armor. He stood in the castle doors, looking down at the sopping wet girl. "Trespasser," both women said in unison. "Well, I'll take her to the king," the man said, staring curiously through the wooden bars. "Free her." Sure enough, the wood unraveled itself and left Ai in a puddle on the bridge. She struggled to get to her feet, completely waterlogged. But her freedom from captivity was short-lived, because the man in armor quickly forced her wrists into cuffs. Ai groaned. "You're new to the King's Kingdom, aren't you? Well, ignorance is no excuse when it comes to The King's Law." His tone was stern and serious. Then it softened. "Although The King is in a good mood today; this morning's harvest of honey was particularly to his liking. What is your name?" "Ai Sinclair," Ai said, without any deference in her voice. She'd been to enough "King's Kingdom"s in her travels to know the type. Arrogant, bossy men who liked to tell people what to do, thinking that what they wanted was always best. And often Ai was just another way to assert their dominance. "Well, Ice and Claire, that is an unusual name. But I'm not here to judge. I'm Rupert, and I'm Junior Squire to Lady Errata and a member of The King's Royal Guard. It's very nice to meet you, and I'm sure that once justice is dispensed you'll have a pleasant time here." Ai didn't believe in Rupert's prediction; lands like this one were always her least favorite, and she wasn't looking to stay long. But she knew to get what she wanted, she had to play the game. The castle was unsurprisingly empty. Though each world had a lot of space, they often only had a handful of people. There were exceptions, like the City in the Sky; Ai only stayed there for a day, but she guessed there were something like five hundred residents. Rupert led Ai through a large set of doors and into the throne room, where a tall man in fancy robes was sitting. Beside him, there were two chairs: one had a woman in it, who was nearly as tall as the man and dressed in equally-but-different fancy robes. The other chair was empty. "Your Majesty," Rupert said. "This is Ice and Claire. She was found trespassing in your wood." "Pardon me, Your Majesty," Ai said kindly, putting on a fake smile. "I am new to the kingdom, and I meant no disrespect." "Mm... and where were you going?" the king asked. His voice was oddly warm and deep, lulling even. Ai felt his words in her chest. "To another bubble," Ai answered honestly. Then, on the rare chance the king didn't know what she was talking about, she added: "A different land." "And what is wrong with my land?" the king asked. "Nothing, Your Majesty," Ai asserted. "But it isn't my home. I am trying to get home." "Mm... and have you a compass? You should have one, if you left home." "I do, Your Majesty. It's in my bag." The king snapped and Rupert unclipped Ai's backpack from her back. Ai let out a sigh of mild irritation, but she couldn't do anything but acquiesce. The king opened it up and sifted through, as if it was his own. "This bag is quite deep." The king sounded almost impressed. "It's enchanted, Your Majesty. A friend gave it to me, to help me on my journey." "Mm... yes, you have quite a lot of things in here." "For travel, Your Majesty." Ai was getting really tired of saying 'Your Majesty'. The woman on the king's side - perhaps Lady Errata - leaned in and whispered something to the king. The king nodded his head. "Well, you must be disciplined for trespassing," the king said, and that deep, velvety voice echoed in Ai's ears. "Um... yes, Your Majesty," Ai managed to say. As soon as she resolved whatever discipline he had in store, then she could leave. "I believe that twenty sets of ten ought to be sufficient; you're a first offender, after all." The king looked to the woman for her opinion, maybe her approval, which the woman gave with a small, understated nod. Ai didn't know what the king was talking about, but he said in a smooth voice: "Come here", and Ai did just that. With Rupert at her side, Ai approached the throne until she was an arm's length from the king. He reached out, took her by the handcuffed hand, and lifted her up onto his lap. At first, Ai was stunned. The man was at least a foot taller than her, but he picked her up without any effort at all. He didn't make any comment about how her wet clothes were soaking his robes. Then Ai was confused because the king was adjusting her over his knee, the way a child might adjust a doll. But when the grown man tugged down the seat of Ai's pants, flashing her wet underwear to the queen beside him, her confusion turned to deep embarrassment. A familiar sinking feeling filled Ai's stomach, but she didn't know why. "Hey! What are you doing?" "Administering justice, as is my duty as the king." The king acted swiftly, bringing his hand down in quick succession over Ai's wet behind. A wetness that certainly exacerbated the sting of his very large hands. "Now dear," the woman, Queen Errata smiled with faint amusement, "you must count, or they don't." "I... what... I'm..." The pain was nothing compared to the sheer shock. Ai's whole body tensed up in a panic, and her mind whirled with a thousand feelings she couldn't explain. Another spank on her bottom pulled her out of her shock, and another reminded her exactly how much it really hurt. And it really hurt! "One?" Ai asked, after the third hit. She should have started at three, but she didn't. Something in her head told her to start at one. "Good girl!" Queen Errata cooed. "And what comes next?" Another spanking came next. The pain radiated through Ai's bottom, up her spine, into her head. Her whole body was trembling. "T-two..." Ai tried to hold it together. Counting, ignoring the pain, ignoring the embarrassment. She'd never been spanked before - she didn't even know what spanking was! - but it filled her with such heavy feelings. "T-ten..." Ai finally stuttered, and the king stopped. Ai was quivering in his lap, the skin on her bottom red and angry. She was dizzy from the flood of emotions. "A little break then," the king said, gently rubbing Ai's bottom with his hand. "I... I'm sorry I... um... please... lemme up..." Ai begged the king, but his hand on her butt felt nice. Comforting. It made her heart warm. "Now now Miss Ice and Claire, there's no hurry. Your justice will be delivered swiftly and regally, as I, the king, see fit. Enjoy your reprieve, and no more squirming now, understand? There's a good subject." "I'm not a subject," Ai said sourly, kicking her feet and trying to get off the king's lap. There were limits to her willingness to follow the rules in someone else's land, and those limits had certainly been crossed. "I said no squirming," the king said sharply, and a heavy fog filled Ai's mind. She hesitated on her words and her body stilled. The king clearly had some kind of magic of his own, and Ai wasn't able to contend with it. "I think that's enough time," the king said, and loosed his palm onto Ai's bottom. She did her best to count, but the second set was so much worse than the first. Humiliation was waning away, and the sheer amount of pain in her body made her eyes fill with tears. By the time he got to ten, Ai was spent. She couldn't take another round. "Please... your majesty... I've learned my lesson, please..." "If you had learned your lesson, Miss Ice and Claire, you wouldn't be begging me to stop." "You'd be begging him to continue," Queen Errata offered smugly. Ai shook her head. She knew what kind of behavior the king wanted, and she had been determined to give it to him, but this was too much for her. Even as he rubbed the seat of her panties, Ai was so anxious about the next set that she couldn't stop crying. "One," Ai managed. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Each spank was so powerful, and she was in agony. Two, three, four. Five and six were slow and slurred. And after that, her wailing of numbers was indecipherable. Her brain had turned off entirely, and her base instincts kicked in: bawling like a little baby. "My king," the queen whispered, looking forlornly at the bawling woman in her husband's lap. "Perhaps let's wait for the rest." "Mm..." The king looked at Ai, then the eyes of his wife. He nodded. "What do you think of that, Ice and Claire?" the queen cooed. "We will postpone the rest of your discipline until you are ready. And until then, you'll be our honored guest." Ai quickly nodded her head. She was only catching every other word through the ringing in her ears, but Ai knew that the queen was offering to end the spankings. "But you must do what you are told," the queen said sternly. Her voice didn't have the same command as her husband's, but it was just as serious. "Any disobedience, and we will add more discipline. Do you understand?" Ai didn't hesitate. Her higher thoughts had shut down, and the concept of cause and effect was a wistful memory. Above all else, Ai needed the spankings to stop, and she would do anything to make that happen. "Yes, Your Majesty..." Ai fumbled, mispronouncing every syllable of those words. "Good girl," the queen said. "But from now on, you'll call me Mommy."
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  26. Academy II By Sophie & Pudding "At the end of the world, there will be neither clamor nor calamity, neither echo nor epoch. It will be mired in silence and sleep, in deliverance and death. At the end of the world, there will be both patience and purpose, both temperance and time. Only then will it be graced with eternity, and from eternity, a chance." -The Source, in valediction Chapter One Ai Sinclair packed her bag with clothes and trinkets. She had a snow globe from her friend Pyrah and a plastic recorder from her friend Tennessee. She picked up the pair of knitting needles and looked them over, from one end to the other. They were warm and stainless, and Ai wondered if they would stay that way for long. She threw her bag over one shoulder and carried the needles outside. Ai stepped out onto a long porch, a porch that connected to three other cabins. In front of her was a cobblestone path through a field of flowers, and in the distance, a small, humble town with only a dozen or so buildings. Beyond that, picturesque snow-topped mountains surrounded the town and the field of flowers and the cabins and the porch. From the porch where Ai stood, the view was perfect. A ways down the porch, in a cluster, was a set of four rocking chairs. Three of them were occupied by older women. If the day had been yesterday or the day before, Ai would sit down in the fourth chair. But today, Ai did not sit down. She walked up to the women and held out the set of knitting needles. "Thank you for teaching me how to knit," Ai said. "But I have to be going now." "Going?" asked one of the women. "You don't need to go anywhere." "Come now, Maribel," another woman tsked. "You knew when she arrived that Ai wouldn't be staying." "I know, but..." Maribel sighed in resignation. "I suppose I had hoped that we could change her mind." "I wish you had," Ai said sadly. "I can't think of a more beautiful place to live." "Then stay," the third woman urged. "Margie said herself she wants you to stay." "I did," Margie laughed. "But don't let us sway you. You seem like you have somewhere to be." "I think I do..." Ai said, more to herself than the three older women. She'd been looking for that somewhere for quite a while; no matter how comfortable she found herself, it was never enough. "You always have a home here, should you find your way back," Margie said, and the other two agreed. "These belong to you," Ai said, holding out the knitting needles once again, but Margie was quick to raise a hand in objection. "They're as much yours as they are ours. Take them with you, in case you need to knit a scarf. It's cold in the mountains." "Thank you," Ai said again. Every time someone gave her a new gift, she was always surprised. But time and again, she was given gifts anyway. "Thank you for staying as long as you did," Maribel said. "I don't suppose there's an easier way up the mountain?" Ai asked. "I'm afraid not," the third woman said. "But as they say, life is more interesting with hardship." "What is a mountain if not a challenge?" Margie winked. "Then I suppose I'll need these knitting needles after all," Ai smiled. She hugged each of the women goodbye and did her best not to cry. When she'd arrived at the small, humble town in the mountains, she didn't expect to stay very long. But she'd spent half the season there, with no regrets. She waded into the field of flowers, down the cobblestone path, and toward the town for the rest of her goodbyes. Before she lost sight of the porch, she turned and waved one last time. There were fewer people in the town of Hamlet than one might expect. John Bootie ran the General Store, and a younger man named Zachary Hicks helped in the afternoons. Charles Clarke managed the Old Bank, where Robert Molyneux worked the counter. Sydney Parkinson tended bar at the Misty Pub all by herself, every single afternoon and every single evening. But the Misty Pub was always full of townsfolk with drinks, though no one in town was a brewer. Often the women on the porch would take trips to the bank, though Ai had never seen any money exchanged. And the shelves at the General Store were always stocked with what you needed, even if what you needed wasn't very general at all. And though everyone should have been at work, they were all instead waiting for Ai in the town square: men, women, and some who didn't say one way or the other. The town crier, a portly fellow by the name of John Satterley, was the first to run up to Ai and pull her into a tight bear hug. "Hamlet won't be the same without you, darlin'," he said a little too loudly, causing Ai to wince. "Uh huh, yeah, thanks..." Ai struggled a little to hug John back, but her arms were pinned to her sides. When he finally let go, Ai was a little lightheaded. "You make sure to come back now," he said with a very serious tone, and then erupted in a loud laugh. Before Ai could give John the same reassurances she gave the women on the porch - that she would try - Charlie Green slammed into her hip with all the force of a seven year old girl. "Miss Ai! Don't go!" Ai untangled herself from Charlie's hug and knelt down to ruffle her hair. "I've got somewhere else I need to be," Ai said warmly. "You gotta be right here!" "Well, maybe one day I'll figure out how to be in two places at once. And if I do, I'll send one of me back here. How does that sound?" "You promise?" Charlie asked with comically big tears dripping down her chin. "I promise." Ai gave Charlie another hug. Then she shook some hands, gave one salute, and hugged Charlie again. Ai waved back at the town and walked backwards for quite a ways, until she rounded a hill and Hamlet disappeared behind it. A part of Ai wanted to stay in Hamlet forever. It was pleasant and welcoming, and filled her with a sense of safety. In all the lands she'd visited, nowhere felt more like home. But it wasn't enough. With a deep sigh, Ai finally stopped walking. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and looked up at the mountain tops. "Leaving is always the worst part," she said to herself. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little compass. The needle pointed solidly to the left, so she went right. The climate in Hamlet was unique; it was always warm and temperate, snuggled into the mountain range. It was like the peaks were cuddling the town, keeping it safe and warm, because once you got too far away from it the temperature began to drop. Ai unzipped her backpack and rummaged around inside until she found her snow coat. She also grabbed a scarf that Margie had knitted her and wrapped it around her neck. Ai remembered Margie's indignation when she first arrived in Hamlet: "No scarf? No hat? You think a coat is enough to keep you warm in the mountains?" But truthfully, Ai had no idea what a scarf was before she met Margie. Everywhere she went, Ai learned something new. With the coat warming her body and the scarf warming her neck, Ai wondered why nobody had thought of a scarf for her hands. The brisk air made her knuckles ache, like her elbow when she knocked it against a doorframe. She slipped her hands into her pockets. Ai wondered if she'd run into anybody else on the mountain. She decided to hum a song she never remembered learning, so if someone was nearby they might hear her. Then she might have some company. Ai pulled her arms inside her coat for a while, to keep her hands warm, but the mountains only grew steeper and steeper. There was no path leading the way, and if it wasn't for Ai's compass, she may have gotten lost herself. Every so often, she'd reach a small mesa and turn to see Hamlet in the distance. Every time she looked, it seemed smaller and smaller. Ai stopped again to change shoes, to switch from hand-sewn climbing shoes to a pair of snow boots she got from her friend Tanner. And on she went. "Going up is a lot harder than going down," Ai groaned. She had stopped for a drink of water from the bottle in her backpack. The sun was starting to set, and the cold was only getting colder. It only took her half a day to get to Hamlet the first time, and she had hoped it would only take half a day to leave. Animal sounds were abundant in the mountains. Chirps, whistles, flapping. The crunch of footsteps on fluffy snow, distant and rhythmic. Or maybe it was just the echo of her own footsteps bouncing off the mountains, because Ai didn't come across any animals at all. "I'm sorry for traipsing through your home," Ai said to the animals, in case they were shy. "But if you live here, you can come out and say hello." When nothing came out, she added: "It's an open offer." When Ai had no one else to talk to, she often talked to herself. Sometimes, on her journey, she would go entire days before finding someone new. It helped her feel safe knowing that someone was around, even if that someone was just herself. As the setting sun glinted off the snow, Ai lost her footing and fell flat onto her stomach. Before she could grab onto something, she slid down the incline. Her arms flailed through the snow like she was making snow angels, but she only picked up speed. Just as Ai thought, "I'll slide down the entire mountain at this rate," a rough surface snagged the toe of her boot. She fell over herself and landed flat on her back, like a pancake on a griddle. She was still on the mountain, on a flat ridge near the top, but her ankle was twisted and her back hurt from the rocks. It felt like even the terrain itself was trying to keep Ai from leaving. "I guess I have to set up camp after all..." Ai sighed, trying to get to her feet. The layers of snow were thin, and she felt like it wouldn't be too much work to set up a tent. She scavenged around in her backpack until she found a sheet of canvas and some metal poles. In the end, her bivy tent was barely bigger than she was, but it warmed up quickly. Ai could just barely see off the edge of the cliff, at the little lights that must have been the town of Hamlet. They were so far away. Then she looked up at the stars, even brighter than the lights below. They beckoned Ai onward, like trail markers. "Thank you," Ai said to the sky, because her star was out there somewhere. She just had to find it. Early the next morning, Ai emptied a whole bag of M&Ms into her mouth and packed up her tent. She filled her water bottle up with snow and breathed warm air into it to try to make it melt. It was slow going, as was her trek up the mountain. By noon, the sun was high in the sky and Ai felt warmer than she had all day. The heat was rejuvenating. She unwrapped a layer of her scarf and doubled her pace up the mountain, taking a more careful path through the valleys. The town of Hamlet was long gone, and Ai's determination was at an all-time high. It was early evening when Ai reached the peak of the mountain. She was out of breath and her hands were frozen pink, but her eyes were bright and beaming. She rushed to the other side and saw the ground slope down in front of her. In the distance, the mountain range continued for a while, but that didn't matter. Ai checked her compass. She found the exact opposite direction the needle was pointing and went into her backpack to get the canvas tent. She fluffed it out like a blanket on a bed and grabbed one of the corners. With a running start, Ai leapt off the top of the mountain and into the snow. The canvas slid across the surface and Ai slid along with it, down the slope. As she picked up speed, she laughed. She laughed, because all that hard work finally paid off, and Ai was having fun. As she slid faster and faster toward the bottom of the slope, there was a shimmer. It filled the whole sky, like a wall of transparent fabric. Like the surface of a bubble. Then Ai Sinclair crashed right into it.
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  27. I don't get embarrassed every time I want to put a nappie / diaper on but for some reason like now I really want to put a nappie on but I feel really embarrassed to say I want to put a nappie on
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  28. Chapter 93: Truth CONN…CARLY WAS ahead of Beth as they both seemed to want to run away from the horror that was their film. Beth noted that Carly was waddling pretty badly in the thicker diaper but couldn’t tell if that meant she wet it again. A lookup helped her see that Isabella had come in with them. “I’ll help you two out of those diapers; I’m not sure if you have the strength to pull them off, Beth.” Beth sighed but gladly accepted the hand in the dressing room at releasing the tapes, even as Carly seemed to hop around. “Please hurry,” she asked her. As soon as the diaper was off her, Carly bolted into the attached bathroom and climbed on the toilet without even closing the door. Beth shook her head and closed it for her. “Guess she needed to go!” A look at the diaper that Isabella had just removed showed it wasn’t completely dry. ‘Two accidents?’ Beth wondered, a little worried. ‘She hasn’t been having any?!?’ Isabella just gave her a smile and left after tossing the balled-up diaper in the bin. Beth could hear a sink in the wardrobe area as she washed her hands. While waiting for the bathroom to clear, Beth pulled off the rest of the toddler outfit and yanked at the bodysuit for longer than she felt necessary. Her skin had stuck to the inside, and she made a face as she peeled it off, “I so need a shower!” She said to an empty room. She stole a couple of the baby wipes from the counter. She wiped her chest and body quickly before putting her bra and panties back on, followed by the jeans and sweater she’d worn that morning. She was finishing pulling the shirt over her head when Carly came out. She looked embarrassed but moved towards the little locker her clothes were in. “I’m going to hit the restroom real quick; I’ll be right back,” Beth said to her… significant other. ‘We need to find some time to talk; she has taken to this more than a boy should?’ She also thought about how Carly had behaved the weekend of her cousin’s birthday party. Beth pulled her pants and panties back down and used the toilet, then looked in the mirror and groaned! Even with her bra and regular clothes, she looked about seven at best! She pulled the braided pigtails out of her hair and finger-picked her hair loose as she walked back out to the room. Carly was putting on the last part of his uniform then, and Beth realized the nanites must have changed her proportions quite a bit. She was as flat as a board up top, and while her hips weren’t much larger, Beth realized she was a little thinner in bone structure. “My clothes don’t fit quite right,” Carly said then. “No, I think the nanites did a few more little adjustments. Of course, you probably are out of the dress code and should be wearing the girl’s uniform.” Beth noted the blush then but didn’t hear any complaints? “Are you ready?” She asked Beth. “Yep, let’s get the hell out of this place. I don’t want to be in one more toddler scene today!” Carly nodded, and the two walked out to find Nikki waiting. “Ready to go?” “Yes,” Beth said. “Amanda is waiting for us in the parking lot,” she told her. “Let’s get outside and go find her.” The two followed the taller woman to the faculty parking lot, where Amanda waited in her vehicle. She stepped out and came to kneel in front of her grandchild. “Well, you do look adorable like this! I guess I should enjoy having another granddaughter for the evening?” She smiled. Carly smiled and said, “Guess so?” then added, “What are we doing for dinner?” Amanda laughed, “We’re just going to hit a quick fast-food restaurant; we need to get you home. There’s another long day for you tomorrow!” Carly nodded, even as Beth wondered which restaurant they would stop at. WE HADN’T TRAVELLED far in the car before reaching the equivalent of the golden arches back home. I could see a large set of slides and ball pits in the back, though still at theirs like Mama had told us they had growing up. As we walked in the door, I felt a sudden urge come! I practically shouted, “Grandma, I need to use the bathroom really bad!” She didn’t hesitate, picking me up gently and walking rapidly to the bathroom and inside a stall. She was just setting me down when I couldn’t hold it anymore, and I soaked the Pull-Up. “What? Why?” I couldn’t help but wonder. “Oh no, I’m sorry, Con… Carly,” she told me. I grimaced, “This is twice now…” I complained. “Twice?” She asked, sounding concerned. I nodded, “It happened at the end of a scene earlier… I ended up using the diaper.” She nodded and dug into her purse, “Here, let’s get you out of that wet Pull-Up, try the potty, then I have a spare in my bag here.” I blushed as I realized she must have assumed I would have an accident at some point. “You’ve just been carrying one?” “I put a couple of them when we bought them in here,” she said with an unapologetic shrug. “I know you’ve been doing well, but it’s pretty normal for Littles to have accidents at some point?” A few minutes later, I’d let a little bit more urine out into the toilet where it belonged and had dry padding between my legs when we rejoined Beth and Nikki. Beth gave me a worried look, standing beside me, and put her arm around me to squeeze me into a side hug. I leaned into her, grateful for her presence right then. ‘Is it the different parts?’ I wondered. ‘The morning started with zero problems making it to the bathroom, though?’ “Carly?” Beth asked, “What do you want?” I looked and realized we were at the counter. A part of me was sure I should just order a cheeseburger and fries, but I knew with my size, a kid’s meal size would probably be wiser. “Just a cheeseburger and fries, I guess a kid’s size?” I said. I noticed for the first time the woman at the register giving me the ‘she’s sooo cute!’ vibes. I leaned more in again to Beth as our orders were finished. I noticed there weren’t the computer ordering stations that had all but taken over ours back home. I followed Grandma and Nikki to a table, where she sat a booster down and helped me into it. “I’m surprised there’s actually someone taking orders,” I said out loud. Grandma smiled, “We had about ten years where they tried to transition all the humans out. They first tried AI Holograms about eight years ago, and they’ve become the norm.” “Wait! That was a hologram?” I said, looking back at the woman. She was missing some tell-tale signs I’d become used to seeing. “Yes,” Grandma smiled, “Surprised?” “A little, they programmed that one really well,” I admitted. “So, how did the shooting go today?” Grandma asked. “Really well,” Beth said. “Yeah, we managed to stay on schedule despite having to redo some scenes too many times.” I shuddered at the thought of that stupid scene of Brianna first pooping her diaper! “How much do you have left to shoot?” Nikki asked, “I was pretty impressed watching your group work.” “Just four scenes left,” I said after mentally thinking through the schedule in my head. “We’ve finished twenty-four, so almost done!” “Thank God!” Beth said. “You only have two left, I think, right?” “Yeah,” she agreed. “Two too many!” One of the HoloWorkers brought out food right then, and my eyes widened at seeing the ‘kids’ meal burger. “There is no way I’m going eat all of that…” I said. Grandma laughed, “Just eat what you can; don’t worry about finishing it all.” I was really curious about Nikki, but I couldn’t ask anything more from her in public right then. Instead, the conversation stayed to questions about the filming process, Beth’s life, mine back home, and all that are very safe to talk about in public. Before we left, we all hit the restroom and headed for the car. I needed to go more than I realized by then, and I was beginning to worry there was something wrong as the self-driving car took off from the parking lot. It was nearly the time I’d gone to bed most of the week when we pulled into the driveway, but I was still wide awake. We all ended up settling into the living room then, and Nikki asked, “Connor, what exactly happened with you and Kelly when you were in that fight?” I shrugged, “Okay? Why?” “For one, I want to know what you’re dealing with here; two, I want to know what I’m dealing with skill-wise.” I nodded, “We were going to the editing room and were surprised to find Kelly inside. While we were still just inside the doorway, I angled myself to be in front of Beth as I figured out we were in a bad situation.” “Why didn’t you just run back out the door?” She asked I sighed, “I was trying to get Beth to do that, but she wasn’t getting the hint. I wanted to protect her, though, so if she didn’t leave, I wasn’t going to.” “Protect me?” Beth asked. “You’re the size of an infant to a Big?!?” “Thanks,” I said, a little annoyed with her. “I didn’t mean…” I sighed, “I understand, it’s okay. Just remember who my mom is?” She nodded. “Anyway, we were eventually completely trapped with Kelly between us and the door. I got her out of the way when she went after Beth and went on the offensive against her ankles first.” “Why ankles?” she asked. “Mom said the two places a Little can reach to attack are the ankles and usually the knees. It’s not like I can reach her upper body normally?” “That is correct, definitely the proper method,” she agreed. “What happened next?” I walked her through the fight step by step and realized Beth must not have known everything. “She tried stabbing you with a syringe?” She cringed when I spoke about that. “Yeah, not sure what was in it, but I was sure I didn’t want it inside me!” “No, you didn’t,” Grandma said, “I just heard what was in it, and it was a powerful treatment meant to make all of your big boy thoughts and abilities go away. It wouldn’t have been permanent with one dose, but you wouldn’t have been fighting back for a few more days even with that one dose.” I cringed, “I was too easy on her…” “She’s definitely lucky I didn’t have her in front of me,” Grandma said. “So, what happened after you knocked the syringe away?” Nikki asked. I told her of our little dance around the room before finally managing to break her knee. “Then I followed up with a kick to her jaw,” I shrugged, “I kind of regretted that one; it was like kicking a concrete wall!” “Next time, go for the throat, or if you really need to go for the head, the temple is a little softer,” she told me. I nodded, “I figured the nose would have been better, too?” “Could have been,” she agreed. “So, what forms of martial arts have you studied? You’re clearly not an amateur?” I shrugged and listed off the styles my sisters and I had learned. She smiled, “You and I will definitely be sparring sometime one weekend. I don’t want to risk making a bruise and your crew mad at me this week, though.” I nodded, “Anyway, that’s when the cavalry arrived?” Nikki laughed, “I think you were the cavalry. Obviously, you are well trained, but we need to get you some practice against someone like me who is larger. But, hopefully, if you two are with me, that won’t be necessary.” Looking at the clock, Grandma said, “Why don’t you come with me, Nikki? I’ll get you settled in the guest room. Conn… Carly, why don’t you and Beth take a few minutes to unwind, and then you probably should get some sleep before tomorrow?” I nodded and watched her walk away with her. “Come on,” Beth said, “we need to talk.” I looked up at her and saw her arms were out to pick me up. I was settled into her side and carried up to ‘her’ room, where she closed the door and sat on a plush rug beside the bed with her back against it. She pulled me in tight on her lap, then with an arm securely around my body, holding me to her warm body. “Okay, so Connor, I want you to know I don’t have a problem with any answers you give right now… but what’s going on with you?” “What do you mean?” I asked. She looked frustrated, “I mean… This is the second time…” Her hand brushed back through her hair, and with a sigh, she said, “I don’t know how to do this anyway, but to be blunt, I guess? Is Carly just an actor playing an actress? Or is that the other way around?” I felt my heart in my throat. She knew! My eyes were watering as I feared what she would say, but I said, “Carly is who I’d rather be.” She nodded, “I figured that was probably the case. Want to talk about it?” I shrugged, “What do you want to know?” She hesitated, “How long have you felt like this?” “Since I was seven, probably?” I thought back, “I think that was about the age I wasn’t allowed to do the same things as the girls at school as much. At home, it never mattered; we just played, but at school, I couldn’t play with the girls anymore without the teacher saying, ‘Go play with the boys…’” “That made you jealous?” “I just didn’t understand it? I played the boy game, though, I guess. My sisters and I played dress-up enough that I wore their clothes fairly often until we got older. The first time Mom told me the truth about her originally being a boy… well, I guess I wanted to come here then?” “She couldn’t do that for you back there? You already had the nanites in your system?” I shook my head, “She wouldn’t even consider doing any changes, she told me with other smaller things. I asked about other things when she told me about the nanites before I came. She was worried it would cause me to shrink. As soon as she was full-sized, she believed it was time to never adjust them again…” “But you’re changing back tomorrow?” I sighed, “It will suck, but it’s what I’ll do. More the boy game…?” “You could stay like this?” I shook my head, “No, I’ve been thinking about it off and on today. I’d be in a similar position to the one Mom was potentially in at the university. Connor is the one that came through; I’m not sure if they would let Carly stay as a student?” I shrugged, “Not to mention, go back home?” She snorted, “With your grandmother? It wouldn’t be…” A knock came at the door, and Grandma asked, “Are you two in here?” “Yes, come in,” Beth said. She walked in and said, “I probably shouldn’t be letting you be in a bedroom with a door closed?” Beth laughed, “Well, right now, Carly is missing the thing that would normally be able to get us in trouble?” “I wanted to ask about that,” Grandma said, “you had a couple of accidents already. Have there been any other problems?” I shook my head, then stopped, “I don’t think it was a surprise, but my clothes didn’t fit quite right?” She nodded, “Well, the nanites changed your body, including your bones there… I probably should have insisted you not use those for the filming. They can be reversed, but they aren’t without side effects.” I shrugged, “It’s made the film more believable, I think?” I paused, “How much do you know about these?” She nodded at my first statement, then said, “I did some edits on those for Professor Ponce when she first started using them. I’m pretty knowledgeable on them?” I wanted to change the subject off them then. I suddenly thought of another topic, “Grandma, did you have any luck figuring out who Lilly is? How she knows Mom?” “Actually, yes, I did,” she said, sitting on a window seat I hadn’t noticed before. Beth and I sat up. “Who is she?” I asked. “Your mom told you some of the stories from when she was here, right?” She asked me. I nodded, “A lot of them, at least?” “Well, it turns out your mom did meet her mom, and I can see why she feels she owes you…” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!! Please press the Like button and consider leaving me a comment, too! You all met my requirements for your share of likes from Sunday. Don't start slacking now, please? 🥺 Remember, I don't have any of my work completely behind paywalls, so it's really just the smallest bit of payment you can give me! I'll post again on Friday morning; please remember, as always, that if you enjoy my works, you can purchase them on Amazon Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/author/babysofia
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  29. Chapter 92: Long Days GARY LOOKED THOUGHTFULLY at Beth, “I could probably walk Beth through it? It’s only the attaching it on now?” “Beth, please?” Carly asked. “Where were you when he did this to me just now…?” She laughed nervously. “Sure, I’ll be a good girlfriend and be the one to touch your new no-no parts.” As Gary lifted her, she realized Carly was actually shaking some and felt a bit bad about the joke she’d just made. “It’s okay,” Gary told her. “Normal to be nervous about this kind of thing, Carly.” He handed the device to Beth and walked her through the process. When they were done attaching it, he gave her a diaper, and she also diapered her boy… girlfriend. “There, all done!” she said as she pulled his arms up to a sitting position. They were both tiny compared to the Bigs, but he was about the size an older toddler or preschool child of hers would be to her. “Thanks, sorry I freaked out,” he told them. “You just got those parts, I can imagine not wanting them touched!” Gary laughed. “Come on, let’s get you two out there! Sebastian is probably ready to go nuts by now.” Carly felt the stupid PooPloder as she walked, just like Beth. She’d noticed they seemed different sizes, so while hers wasn’t the same size, she could feel it against the bodysuit and the diaper, smashing it into her through the covering. Reminding herself not to press the button on accident, even if they weren’t armed already, they made it to the scene. “Okay,” Sebastian said, “Let’s just film some playtime first here?” “Umm… what do you want us to do?” Carly asked. “Did you ever play tea party as a kid?” Charlotte asked. Carly blushed again, the prettiest color of red at that! “I take it that’s a yes?” She smiled, “You must have sisters?” “Three of them,” her boyfriend replied. “Ah, perfect then!” she said. “You two have a tea party for about fifteen minutes; we’ll film it, and then we’ll get on with the script.” “You’re kidding, right?” Beth asked. “How else are we getting playtime recorded?” Sebastian asked with a shrug. “We may not make you do it for fifteen minutes, but we need to get footage from a few perspectives.” With a sigh, Carly grabbed Beth’s hand, and they found a couple of dolls apiece, a stuffed animal each, and a virtual tea cup set. Somehow, the next fifteen minutes became thirty minutes, as Carly decided to have fun with it, and the whole thing became a complete silly college fest! Their dolls began describing relationships they were in, but a little bit too deep of a level of knowledge for a kid. The crew was in hysterics as Carly described how one doll’s boyfriend just couldn’t perform well enough, and another doll had a tragic love life with a garbage plant manager. “We can never put that in the film with the audio,” Charlotte said, still wiping tears from her eyes thirty minutes later. “No, but we can all know what goes along with the footage when we see the montage!” Will said. “Conn… Carly, brilliant work. I’m beginning to think you need to rethink the math stuff and go into acting for real!” I FOUND MYSELF laughing with everyone else and shaking my head, feeling the shorter hair sway differently as I did so. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I much prefer the idea of being in the director role… or creating the technology itself we’re using.” Sebastian nodded, “Okay, time to get back to work here, everyone!” A call was made for the part of Scene 19 we were filming. “Arm PooPloders!” “Armed!” Moments later, there was the call to action on the scene I had wanted to skip! I began holding one of the dolls against my stomach and making faces. Beth said, “What’s wrong, Bree?” I forced my face to look momentarily surprised and lost, “Bree?” Looking up at her, she smiled at me, “That’s your name, silly!” I did my best to give the tiniest smile, “I like that.” “What’s wrong? Mommy calls that a potty face?” I squirmed a bit on the floor where I was sitting like I was holding in a bit of poop, “Umm...” She laughed at me, “Bree! Just use your diaper, silly!” When I looked at her skeptically, she added, “Potties are boring; playing is much more fun!” “It’s gro…” I started to say when she squatted and activated her PooPloder. I wrinkled my nose as if I could smell it, “Callie, did you just?” She didn’t answer, though, just intentionally falling on her butt and squishing it as she brought a teacup to Professor Tilly’s mouth. Then she looked at me and smiled, “Poopy!” The next part wasn’t supposed to wait, so I began, “I...” Even as I bent my own knees and activated the PooPloder. I could feel a good chunk of the fake poop on the outer edges of the little body shaper, and the stickiness on my legs felt horrible! I didn’t even have to act to feel disgusting right then! “Eew…” I said quietly. Right on cue, Charlotte entered the room. She wrinkled her nose and said, “Pee-eew!! It smells like a stinky baby in here!” Beth rocked the diaper back and forth and shook her head, “Nuh-uh, we don’t stink like babies, Mommy!” Charlotte pulled the ultimate diaper check, pulling the dress out of the way and the back of her diaper open. She sighed, “Well, you certainly do, Callie!” As Charlotte started to pick Beth up, she pointed at me, “Well, so does Bree!!! She’s stinky too!” “Oh?” She grabbed Beth’s hand instead and came around our tea party setup to me. She let go of Beth’s hand then and picked me up, bringing my bottom up to her nose and sniffing. Right then, I didn’t have to fight to make sniffles or tears; the whole thing was genuinely mortifying. Charlotte carried me over to the changing table and then, “Well, it looks like you’re right, Callie! Brianna is a stinky baby, too! Let’s get both baby girls in nice clean diapees, then we’ll go get you your din-din!” There was no real reason to film the entire cleanup. Still, they put the camera by my head for the shot, and Charlotte used eight wipes to get the mess cleaned up before placing a new diaper on me. I walked to the side and held on to one of the stuffed animals we’d been playing with as Beth endured the same change. “Come here, you,” Charlotte said as she placed Beth on her hip, then picked me up and carried me on the other hip down the stairs. “Cut!!!!” “Thank god!” Beth said beside me. I nodded, “Please tell me the shots were good enough that we don’t have to do that again?!?” Charlotte looked down sympathetically at us as she placed us on the ground. “Sebastian, review the footage with Will quickly; I’d also rather not have to clean up that Pooploder crap a bunch more times. It doesn’t smell, but I swear it kept sticking to my hands worse than any baby poop ever has!” “You should try wearing it,” I told her deadpan. “I’m so glad those weren’t invented when I had those moments in my shows…” she said. “Then what did you guys do in that…?” Beth started to ask. “Oh, Sebastian, make sure you check,” Charlotte ran after him. “Somehow, I think that was going to be an embarrassing answer?” I asked. “Maybe…?” Unfortunately for the three of us, there were two more takes of the scene that we had to make before we were able to move on! Camera angles, minor timing issues, and one time a stray glance of a crew member in the main shot had unfortunately meant getting a growing familiarity with the awful stickiness of the poo in the PooPloders! BETH SAW THE crew had been at it for another six hours after lunch, and it was 23 O’Clock. With only a few more hours to go until they needed to get Connor’ home’ – or at least off-campus- it seemed unlikely they would get everything filmed. Fortunately, things had been going a little smoother, and most scenes were taking two or fewer takes. They had just filmed her being put to bed, and she was done being filmed sleeping for the moment while the action focused on Carly. They restarted the scene as Charlotte gathered a onesie-clad Carly in her arms. She couldn’t help but be jealous watching Charlotte hold her as she wrapped her in a light blanket and said, “Here, hand me your baba.” Carly tentatively handed the bottle to Charlotte, who placed it on a small end table they’d added beside the rocking chair. She took the time to tighten the blanket around her and put her in the crook of her arm like she was an infant. “What are you doing?” Carly asked nervously. “Feeding you your baba,” she smiled down at her. “Bu…” Carly got out as the nipple entered her mouth. This was the fifth time they’d done this little piece, and each time they’d had timing issues. Carly held off nursing for a long moment before starting to drink the liquid even as Charlotte rocked the chair. Charlotte said, “I know you want to be a big grown-up again, and I promise you will be, eventually. Right now, you’re going to be my little Bree. Enjoy letting go a little, Sweetie.” As she finished her line, she paused for a second and began singing a simple Lullaby. Carly’s eyes went closed, and then she went limp. Charlotte giggled, “They’re right; Mommy’s milk does it every time!” “Cut!” “Carly, you didn’t really go to sleep on me, did you?” she laughed. For her part, she sat up, “No… though it was close! Right now, though, I need a bathroom!!!!!” Beth watched as Charlotte carried her quickly to the dressing room and hoped she’d make it. I COULDN’T BELIEVE how quickly the urge to go potty hit me!!!! To her credit, Charlotte practically ran with me to the bathroom, but when she pulled up my dress to remove the diaper, I grimaced and said, “Stop…” I couldn’t hold it any longer and felt it just flow and flow out of me. Fortunately, Gary had made the call to pull the control panty off of me after the PooPloder scene because I didn’t even want to think about that mess! ‘I can’t believe I couldn’t hold it?!?’ This was one of my first genuine accidents where I felt like I was a Little… and very much the baby so many Bigs saw Littles as! I did my best to breathe and not cry, but I couldn’t hide the face of shame I wore. “I’m sorry,” Charlotte said, even as her hand was under my diaper. There was no way she didn’t know what had happened. “I should have gone after the last take… I just figured I could still make it this last one. Those four bottles of liquid, fake milk or not, all had to go somewhere.” She gave me a hug, “Sorry, Connor… You don’t normally have problems?” She asked. I shook my head, “This is one of my very few genuine accidents, actually,” I said through my teeth, as I did everything not to break down! She gave me a moment, squeezed me again, and asked, “Are you finished? I can take this off, and you can sit on the potty and be sure?” I sighed and shook my head, “Trust me, it’s all in the diaper…” “Well then, let’s get you changed; we’re almost done for the day with you guys.” “I’m glad to hear that. These longer days in this dimension are a killer on this project!” “What do you mean?” She asked as she pulled the tapes open. “Well, we have eight hours less in our days in my dimension.” “When do you get everything done?” She asked, surprised. I laughed, “You know, there’s some truth to that!” I did the math in my head; it was now almost 24 O’clock, and we started at 8 O’clock with filming. We’d already put in a sixteen-hour day and planned to film three shorter scenes before Beth and I left. That didn’t include the two scenes they would catch up on after we left! She was just using a wipe gently on my bottom when the door opened, and Beth came in. “Oh, sorry…” she stammered. “It’s okay,” Charlotte said, “We’re all actresses here, just getting Carly back and ready to go for the next scene.” Beth’s eyes caught mine, and I knew she had to know what we were dealing with. She mouthed, “Sorry” to me. With as many scenes as we still had to film that day, I had no choice but to pull up my big girl panties and get back to work. Metaphorically, of course! Our waking up and breakfast scenes went quickly in one take for the most part. We had to divide up one part of the breakfast feeding scene for camera angle issues. To my amusement, the eggs they gave us were genuinely just cooked in an attached breakroom AmeniTea, our crew had just discovered would take meal points or their equivalent of a credit card. The stupid, dull, curved plastic baby spork things were just about impossible to use to scoop them up, but I made sure that I kept my face and bib pretty much perfectly clean. Beth didn’t try that to my amusement, and true to her character, Charlotte had to clean her up! Our final scenes of the day were at the daycare, and I think both Beth and I hated them as much as anything! Every part of the room was actually sized for me perfectly! It was a rare place in this dimension I could say that about. Unfortunately, even though Beth was taller, she still could sit in the chairs and not look too awkward or big for them! The crew made fast work of the scenes, and we were soon down to the final two small parts we were filming that day with us. Right then, we were in a circle for story time, and someone had found the genuine children’s story, The Little Who Couldn’t. Isabella did a way too convincing job of reading it right then. It reminded me of a lady who did preschool lessons online back home and posted them. I’d been stuck watching them enough with my baby sisters years ago that I was sure this girl could pull the same trick! We got to learn all about a Little who successfully graduated high school and then failed at every other adult thing she ever tried. She couldn’t pass college, she couldn’t be a secretary, she couldn’t be a police officer, she couldn’t be a construction worker, she couldn’t be a waitress… and on it went. The character got more and more upset until right before she discovered what she could be! Mommy’s precious baby girl! ‘Sarah’ walked in as the final page was turned. I wanted to vomit and had no issues with the acting of standing up and going towards her. Right then, ‘Callie’ leaped past me though and wrapped her in a hug. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Beth jumped up and down like she was an excited preschooler. “You’re just in time! The Little is about to be adopted like Bree!” I cringed at some of the ‘extra’ lines suggested to Beth on the previous take. She did it quite well, though! Charlotte asked, “Huh?” “It’s the Little Who Couldn’t Mommy!” She smiled, “It’s the best story ever!” Charlotte looked confused then, “You mean the Little Who Could?” I sighed and moved closer to her, “No, she means Couldn’t...” As I said, Isabella held up the book, showing the page that showed the woman being held in her mommy’s arms and fed a bottle. “Oh...” she shook her head and muttered, “Seriously?” Looking down at me, she gently reassured me with her hand on my head, “Well, I need to take my two little girls on a special adventure now. You ready to go?” “Please!” I practically begged, even as Beth acted like she wanted to go back. Fortunately, she guided us both out. “Cut!!!” “How was that time?” Charlotte asked. “I think that’s a keeper. Let’s finish this car scene, and then the kids can get out of here!” ‘Kids?’ I thought nervously. We changed the settings to move to the car outside the daycare, and we filmed walking out to the car. I did my best to act like I needed to go to the bathroom badly and blushed when Charlotte squeezed and checked the back of my diaper after buckling Beth in. “You’ll be fine,” she smiled at me as she buckled me inside. After getting inside the car, she started the car on autopilot before turning the seat around and looking at us through the screen above our seats. “Callie, we’re going to take you to Grandma and Grandpa’s tonight.” “Really? Grandma and Grandpa?!?” Charlotte continued, “Uh-huh, we’ll drop you off, and you get to play with them all night tonight! They’re even going to take you to the playground and then to Crazy Fun afterward for pizza.” “Yay!!!” “Umm… Mommy? Can we please stop by a potty?” I didn’t even know why my character would be dumb enough to ask that question now! “Remember, Brianna, you’re both taking a vacation from the potty. Just use your diapee like the good baby you are!” “Please?” Charlotte started to respond, “N…” but then seemed to remember she needed something. With a sigh, she shrugged, “If you can hold it a while... maybe?” Charlotte turned around in her seat and checked on the cars driving. I squirmed more then and made a pained, gassy face, even as I knew a camera was zooming in on my facial expression. “Cut!!!” Sebastian said. “Let me look real quick back at the footage.” Meanwhile, Beth and I were freed from the car seats. “I hate being stuck in a car seat facing the back seat, even if it’s not real!” Beth complained quietly to me. “I hate the whole Littles are stupid thing. That earlier book made me want to go on a rampage…” She laughed, “It was pretty horrible!” “Okay, Connor and Beth, that’s it for you two. Great job today! Go get changed out of costume and get out of here. Be back here at 9 O’clock tomorrow so we can finish your last four scenes,” Sebastian said with a smile. “Got it,” I said, leading Beth out of the stage and to wardrobe. “Everyone else, we need to get the office setup and let’s get Scenes 22 and 27 completed. That will get us caught up from Wednesday’s fiasco! Almost done today!” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the 'Like' button and leave me a comment! After this week I'm hoping to get into a bit more serious of a rhythm of writing again. I'm working on Chapter 110 right now, hoping to wrap up at least another chapter or two today! I will post another chapter on WattPad this week since they crossed 5k likes yesterday. I'll post it here as well as long as this post gets 25+ likes. (You all were falling behind this weekend 👿 ) Thanks again for reading my works! Please consider purchasing a copy of my completed works from Amazon if you enjoy them! Having a small source of extra income there helps me keep the spare time to write for you all! If you have purchased them, please be sure you've clicked the five star review option! (You don't have to leave a public comment that others can see) http://amazon.com/author/babysofia
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  30. I'm messy again for the third morning in a row. I just put on a Rearz Daydreamer diaper with a thick Rearz booster in it. I only wet it just a little bit, so I'll be able to sit in it and enjoy it for several hours today.
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  31. I'm in a pretty messy Adventure Puffs disposable diaper right now. I just put it on and it's got plenty of capacity left so I'll be able to sit in it for quite a while.
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  32. I just used a suppository for the first time in months. I’ve been trying to improve my bowel consistency before I used one again. Just lost the first battle, now I’m waiting for the aftermath.
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  33. Chapter 83: Something Broken… I bounced in my feeder seat, waving my arms. “Tracy!” I called. “Over here! Over here!” It was easier to bounce and jiggle and all but hop on my ass that morning. Zoge had already changed me into one of Billy’s Dino-Dips. It might have been me, but they felt more than a tad thicker than other brands. There’s diaper thick, and there’s pillow-strapped-to-your-ass. Billy’s Amazons dressed him in something close to the former. Maybe that’s why he was so unpotty trained. Maybe the thickness made it easier or more desensitized. Would having a giant load in my pants be that uncomfortable with all this extra cushioning? I hoped I didn’t have to find out. But I digress. “Tracy!” I flailed my arms. “Tracy!” I gulped down a spoonful of dry cereal, fed to me by Zoge. “Hey! Tracy! I need to talk to you!'' The rest of the class finger fed themselves or allowed Zoge or Beouf to spoon feed them in turns. Nibble. Nibble. Gulp. Nibble. Nibble. Gulp. I was too preoccupied to use my fingers. That and I didn’t want my honey glazed corn loops to taste like the rash cream I’d accidentally gotten on my fingers. Yeah, Zoge wiped it off immediately; the diaper was still under me when she’d done it. Didn’t mean I wasn’t paranoid. “Tracyyyyyy!” All my classmates stared at me between bites. Some in dread, others in rapt fascination. Tracy…ignored isn’t the right word. Ignored has too much malice in it. She kept looking over at me, just a table or so away, but then going back to patting preschoolers on the head, or opening milk cartons. I could tell that she wanted to come over and see me, but she couldn’t leave her post. That tyrant of a teacher,Ambrose, wasn’t technically required to be with my students (mine, never hers), until after breakfast, leaving Tracy with the bulk of the work. And like Littles, three and four year olds couldn’t be trusted unsupervised for more than thirty second intervals, albeit for very different reasons. Had I Lion, I would have chucked him as close to Tracy’s table under the pretext of her needing to get it back to me. Regrettably, I didn’t have Lion anymore… All the other stuffies were out of sight and out of reach, even Jessinnia “Tracy! We need to talk!” “Clark, my love,” Mrs. Zoge said. “You’re being too loud and Miss Tracy is busy working with the big…with the preschoolers.” As annoyed as I was, I heard the self-correction in Zoge’s word choice and was grateful. Not that I told her. She held a bottle. “Take a sip of milk. Your mouth looks very crummy.” I did as she asked. Taking a few gulps. Since Wednesday, Zoge had become my designated handler, of sorts. Beouf didn’t outright reject me or refuse me. On the contrary, she was every bit as outwardly warm and inwardly professional to me as she’d been since my enrollment. It’s just that.in every interaction we’d had for the rest of the week, unless it was absolutely necessary for her to do, Zoge or Janet did it instead. Objectively, it was a good call. Not every student listens to their teacher and chemistry makes interactions stressful for both. So if that interaction can be minimized, and thus the stress is minimized, learning can more easily occur. Teachers love their students. Can’t help it. Never said anything about liking them… It was calculated, but effective. I didn’t want to talk to Beouf that much either. As a bonus, I got treated to Ivy’s quiet but resentful glares every time her Mommy so much as spoke a kind word to me. Who I really wanted to talk to was both very close and impossible distance away. “Traceeeey!” A preschooler tugged on Tracy’s plain ankle length skirt. “Miss Tracy, I think that baby wants to talk to you.” I threw a preemptive sneer at Billy, Chaz, and the rest, cutting off teasing giggles and mocking repetitions in their throats. They would not weaponize the tactics I’d taught them against me. They wouldn’t dare. Tracy leaned over and said something to the kid, Roland I think…I’d only known him for that first week…but I couldn’t hear what she said. Tracy was smart enough to whisper in the nearly empty cafeteria. “Traaaaaaaaaaacy!” I saw Beouf press her lips together and throw Zoge a look. She was stopping herself from correcting me. “Clark,” Mrs. Zoge said. “Miss Tracy is busy right now. She has a job to do. Maybe you can talk to her after school?” I fluttered my lips like a horse. “She leaves right after school. Just like you. Most teacher aides do.” She used to hang back and grade papers every now and then, but that felt like a long long time ago. “I can talk to her.” “Now?” She shook her head softly. “Both she and I are working, right now. You should be working on finishing your breakfast so you can have lots of energy.” “Why do you want to talk to her?” Tommy asked from the bucket seat beside me. Damn it, Tommy! Butt out! I’d have flicked him in the ear right then and there if Zoge wasn’t watching. No! Wait! Opportunity! “She was my assistant, before,” I said. “My work partner. My Zoge.” I wiped away a tear just before it spilled “ I miss her.” My voice cracked. Damn, I hadn’t meant for that last part to happen. That’s the risk in running lies of omission. I wanted to do more than give my old Tweener bud a hug. “Yeah,” Tommy said. “I get it.” He looked far off for a moment. I wondered who from his past life he was missing just then. A paper napkin zoomed up and wiped my nose. “Do you need to blow?” Zoge asked. I sniffed. “No…” She rubbed the underside of my nose with the cloth and tossed it away. I itched it with my finger, and got a faint yet disturbing whiff of rash cream. I regretted the spoon feeding less and less right then and there. What I did regret is watching Tracy and the rest of my students walk away, single file holding hands, with Tracy quietly herding them outside in the opposite direction. Under normal circumstances, students came in one way and exited past the Littles’ Table. Tracy was taking them out through the entrance. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, since her classroom faced the cafeteria entrance. The kids would have had to walk all the way around the building to get where they were going when they could just backtrack through an uncrowded space. They were probably antsy, too. It was a smart move. It was also a marker of how much time I’d used up. “TRACY!” I tried again, anyway. The echo of my voice was beaten back by the overhead blast fan at the entrance. “Mrs. Zoge,” Beouf said from her multi highchair feeding table. Her face twitched like she was wrestling to choose the right words. If I hadn’t known her for ten years I might not have seen it. “How about when you go on your break, you cut through Miss Ambrose’s classroom and let Miss Tracy know that Clark would like to speak to her?” I waited for the condition. The ‘if he’s good’, the ‘unless he..’. Nothing came. Not even another micro-twitch. “I’d be happy to do that,” Mrs. Zoge said. She said it to Mrs. Beouf, but she was looking right at me. “Promise?” I heard myself asking. Zoge inched up to me and leaned in so that only I could hear. “Mr. Grange, when have I ever not kept a promise to you?” *********************************************************************************** “But no matter what, their Mommies and Daddies love them very, very much.” Beouf closed the illustrated propaganda book and smiled, softly. “So that’s something to remember: That even when you’re not acting your best, or you’re making bad choices, you’re still loved.” Janet hugged me softly from behind; a quiet physical affirmation that yes she thought I’d been ‘naughty’ or ‘bratty’ or whatever, but she still loved me. My cheeks flushed hard and I wanted to sink back and melt, but that would have only resulted in me leaning further back into Janet’s breasts. There were no therapists on campus today. Janet had found a few minutes to slink in, and as a result I was the only Little with a lap side seat for one of Beouf’s stories. My guard was up the entire time because the others kept looking at us. With Janet quietly giving me gentle hugs and squeezes every other page. I tolerated it. Her navy blue cardigan was light and more a fashion choice than protection against the elements. It still wasn’t very cold yet. Hence, my pantsless condition persisted. But if I bunched my legs up in a cannonball and pulled at the flaps of the coat, I could kind of sort of almost wrap it around enough to obscure the Koddles I’d been swaddled in. The real problem was throwing annoyed or menacing looks at my classmates everytime they looked at me, quietly chuckling to themselves. This was the third day and Janet’s presence still hadn’t gotten old to them. Except for Ivy. She was full to despair and had to be taken out of the classroom by her Mommy. Zoge never let Ivy sit in her lap during school hours. That poor idiot. “So, what would you say is the main theme of this story?” Beouf asked. Annie shot her hand up. “That we can do whatever we want?” “Where in the book does it say that?” Beouf asked. “Would you like to come and show me using the pictures?” Annie put her hand down. “No ma’am…” Was she trolling? Or had she been sincere? It was hard to tell with this lot sometimes. Jesse blurted out. “Love! It’s about love! Last page! Said so!” He was so confident. “On a surface level, yes. But why was love important? Can we go deeper?” Jesse looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Uh…yes?” I could see Beouf counting off in her head, trying to give a fair and ample time for response. “Let me ask the question in a different way without trying to give the answer away. When the babies act out, are they necessarily doing it to be mean?” “Naw,” Mandy said. “It’s cuz they don’t know any better.” “Sometimes they are,” Shauna argued. “Being mean, I mean. You don’t put mayonnaise in your big brother’s hair because you think it’s not gonna do anything!. It’s mayonnaise. Everybody knows that stuff is gross!” Beouf turned back to the corresponding page. “Good point! Good point! But what happens in the end?” An uncomfortable silence followed. I rolled my eyes and said what I hoped everyone with an ounce of sense was thinking. “The ‘moral’ of the ‘book’” I said using massive air quotes, “is that good or bad, bratty or babyish, we’re going to get the same end result.” “That’s not exactly how I would have phrased it,” Beouf said, “I think a better way to look at it is…” A gentle click of an opening door. Beouf stopped and looked up over the lot of us. “Sorry,” a familiar voice stage-whispered. “Miss Zoge sent me.” I rolled off of Janet’s lap and stumbled to my feet. “Miss Tracy,” Beouf said gently, “now is not a good time.” “Oh,” Tracy inched back towards the door she came in. She thumbed towards the nap room. “Sorry, Mrs. Beouf. Mrs. Zoge told me that uh…one of your students… needed some company. Thought they were in the…” She finished with an exaggerated and embarrassed shrug. “I think she meant after school,” Beouf said. I looked back and forth at the two Amazons, too proud to beg, and too impatient to wait. If I’d been a “good baby” it was only because I didn’t want to lose the opportunity to check in with my aide, and I was too preoccupied with what I’d talk to her about. Tiny Tots. Little Land. Sunshine Academy. And Enchanted Forest..? No, that didn’t sound quite right. “Oh yeah,” Tracy scratched the back of her head. “Yeah. Sure.” Janet twisted and leaned back. “If you want to come to my room after the buses, you can.” Tracy brightened a little. “Sure!” She already had one foot back out the door. “I’m just…gonna go now.” “Everyone say, ‘Bye Miss Tracy!’ “Bye Miss Tracy!” A couple of them parroted because Beouf had already broken them. Sandra Lynn and Jesse especially, I reckoned. Chaz and Billy just wanted a chance to be obnoxious and shout anything at the top of their lungs. The Tweener, all primped up and proper looking like a schoolmarm, backed out of the room. “Bye” That got another loud smattering of bye-byes. Janet stiffened and shot up to her feet.. “And on that note,” she laughed awkwardly, “I only have ten minutes to get any food in my gullet.” She readjusted her cardigan and hurried out without so much as giving me a kiss. “Bye, Clark! See you after school! Love you!” She slid out the door just in time for Mrs. Zoge and Ivy to slide back in. The two almost bumped into each other and gave polite squeaks of apology in passing. The blood was rushing to Janet’s face. Why had she been blushing? I looked back towards the door Tracy had left by. Oh dear, was Janet cosseting Tracy, now?! I in no way wanted a ‘big sister’, and I wouldn’t want the past month and a half I’d gone through to befall anyone. (Maybe Brollish. Okay, Forrest too). A darkly humorous thought: Maybe it was nothing I did. Maybe there was something in the air ducts of that room that drove Amazons baby crazy. I put the whole thing out of my mind, lest it sour my mood and I lose my focus. Tiny Tots. Little Land. Sunshine Academy. Enchanted Forest? That still didn’t sound right. What was it? ************************************************************************************** Tiny Tots. Little Land. Sunshine Academy. Enchanted Forest Daycare? No. Enchanted Woodland Daycare. That was it! I had been saying those names to myself over and over and over. Based on what Amy had told me about the regulars at Little Voices, those were the big four independently owned and operated daycares in Oakshire and the surrounding areas. There were smaller, religiously operated ones that I knew existed. St. Judy’s was one I think. Then there were the Daycares that practically banned clients from attending Little Voices; or more likely the Amazons that dropped their padded livestock there off were so old fashioned as to avoid Little Voices meetings on principle. Those four daycares weren’t the only rackets in the county. I just wanted to cross off the biggest ones first… I looked up from the collapsible playpen in Janet’s room. Her head was down, she was grading papers with one hand and entering them on her computer with the other. Hyper focused and productive like a machine. A pity. That probably meant that I wasn’t going to be allowed to grade papers this weekend. That meant that none of her students would get a taste of the Little experience: Every single one of them would get what they earned. Not that I could blame Janet. Still, a pity. Tiny Tots. Little Land. Sunshine Academy. Enchanted Woodland Daycare. That’d start. That’d be enough. I kept looking back to Janet’s classroom door. Where was Tracy? She was supposed to be here. Had she forgotten? Had she been escorted off campus again? Why? She promised. “Gonna be a while,” Janet said. “I’m getting all the paperwork done right now so that we don’t have to do any on the weekend.” “That’s fine.” My eyes kept drifting over to the door. Tracy? Really? Again? “Good.” “Do you want a toy or a bottle or…?” Her eyes darted down to below my waist. I covered myself as best as I could, folding my hands in my lap. It didn’t work, but I felt better about it. At least I’d been put back into Monkeez. “I’m fine, thank you.” She might have checked me with more than her eyes if her hands hadn’t been so preoccupied. Thank goodness for math homework and spelling tests. A polite, soft, timid knock at the door. Janet didn’t look up. “It’s open,” she called out. Tracy slinked in, still dressed in those prudish constricting clothes, but at least she had her hair down. “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I had to help clean up the classroom, otherwise I would have been given heck for staying late.” “Sad but understandable.” Janet hadn’t looked away from her papers or school desktop. If she had she’d have known that Tracy was talking to me. “Yeah,” Tracy said. “Lots of small annoying things, and one very big one…” She threw me a conspiratorial smirk. I smirked back. Janet laughed, only paying half attention. “I bet. Like what?” “Oh you know,” Tracy went on. “Just making sure the room is ready for Monday morning and give the custodians less work to do. Vacuuming. Wiping counters and desks. Emptying the-” She lost a beat. “Emptying the garbage.” She looked at me uncomfortably. Mother fucker! Was that witch in my classroom still doing the same shit she’d done to Elmer? Beouf might not allow her in her room, but she was royally fucking up mine! I grabbed the playpen railing and squeezed it, pretending that I had strength enough to crush the cage. “Mommy,” I said. “Can Tracy take me outside to talk?” Tracy’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline. Janet didn’t even look up. “That should be fine.. Just stay close. Tracy, feel free to bring him back if he starts trying anything naughty or gets fussy.’ “Yes ma’am.” Tracy approached the playpen and hoisted me out of it. “Ooooh boy,” she groaned. You’re getting heavy!” I was set on my feet instead of her hip. “Come on. Hold my hand.” I took it, and we walked out into the fresh air and afternoon sun. “Thanks,” I said. We were about twenty feet. A small benefit of an open campus is that there aren’t as many hallways or corridors where secret whispers can be heard. We were basically talking in one big concrete and grass field with the third and fourth grade building to our backs, the Cafeteria to our left, the front office to our right, and way way ahead of us were the building that contained our respective classroom. The only way we could have gotten more auditory privacy would be to mosey all the way out to the P.E. field. As long as we didn’t shout, we’d be fine. “Mommy?” Tracy scoffed playfully. “Really?” I blushed. “What? When I call her Mommy I’ve got a better chance of getting my way.” “That’s how they get ya, Boss” Tracy said. It wasn’t mean. It wasn’t inaccurate either. Also, I felt buzzy hearing her call me that. Talking to Tracy was the closest I’d gotten to talking with a non-mindfucked Little. “I get it though. You’re trying to survive as best as you can. Just like you told the Littles in our corner.” That made me grimace. “Pretty much.” “What did you want to talk about?” “About your promise,” I said. “The one you made me on my first day?” She looked away and nodded, trying to seem inconspicuous. “Yeah. I remember.” “So I’m working on something. I’m not sure of all the steps yet, but in a while, probably after the fall festival but before Winter Break…” Shit. How to phrase this without sounding suspicious? It would be difficult for someone to listen in without us knowing, but not impossible. “Before Winter Break, I was thinking of taking a vacation. A very long one.” Tracy stopped and took a knee. She grabbed me by the shoulders. “Clark. Stop. I can’t know. Everyone at the school is a mandated reporter. If I know and anyone finds out…” I brushed her hands off. “No no no no,” I shook my head. “Not what I was talking about. Completely misunderstood!” Not really. She was pretty spot on about this. I was getting out of here and back to freedom, eventually. It just wouldn't do to have anyone overhear that. “I meant Janet is taking me to the Littles Museum!” “Oh. Okay.” She kept kneeling. “Had me worried for a second, boss” “But it’s a surprise,” I added. “A surprise?” “Yeah, I think Janet is going to be taking me there. As a surprise. That I’m not supposed to know about.” “So you think,” Tracy repeated, “that you’re going to go away. On a vacation with your Mommy. But it’s a surprise so you don’t know when? But you think it’ll be sometime between the Fall Festival and Winter Break.” Lie code established. “Exactly. I’ve only figured out some of the details. I said, but I’m pretty sure there’s a really good chance that it’ll happen.” “Okay,” Tracy said, guardedly. “So what do you want me for?” “I was hoping that I might take a friend with me.” I said. “A Little friend. Or even if I couldn’t take her, I’d like to know where she is. Make sure she’s safe…or…or something.” The Tweener stood up, and looked away. “Okay. Yeah. Um. I haven’t had a whole lot of success in that area.” That hurt to hear, but it wasn’t surprising. “Okay. That’s what I figured. You’d have told me if you’d found anything.” “Of course.” “I’ve been talking to people. People that know stuff.” I meant Amy. “Where have you looked so far?” My friend was on the lookout. I joined her, nervously glancing over my shoulder. “Oh. You know. Here and there.” “Cool. Cool. Where? Tiny Tots?” Tracy thought for a second. “No. Not there.” “Little Land? That’s a big one.” “Not there either.” “Sunshine Academy? That’s the next city over, but it’s still pretty big and not that far.” She was looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t think so…?.” “Enchanted Woodland Daycare?” She took a breath, and closed her eyes. “No.” “Okay,” I said. “Where have you checked?” My arms flopped at my sides in exasperation. “I can definitely tell you that she’s not at New Beginnings,” my assistant said proudly. “I know a guy who knows a guy, and there’s no Cassie there. Nobody that even looks like her. Nobody who was enrolled the same week as you.” A sinking feeling was making its way in my stomach and it had nothing to do with lunch. “You haven’t checked back? She might not have been enrolled right away.” It was then that I realized that Tracy wasn’t keeping a lookout for eavesdroppers. She was doing her best to avoid eye contact with me. “Um…I can check again if you want..” My leg twitched with me wanting to stomp my foot in anger and frustration. “Tracy,” I almost yelled. “Where have you searched for my wife?” Fuck lying. Fuck code. I needed answers. Right now. “Well I…uh…” she stuttered and stammered, “I…uh…I looked online for local daycares and…um… I found a few that had…um… limited capacity and zero openings.” She exhaled and offered me the weakest smile. “So I’m positive Cassie isn’t at any of those.” I suddenly realized that my mouth was hanging open. “Tracy!” She held up her hands defensively to her chest. “What? What am I supposed to do? Go to every daycare and ask if they’ve got a Little that looks like her?” My fists bunched up and gnarled up to my chest. “Yes!” “Boss, do you know how those places work? I’m a Tweener! If I’m not dropping off a Little or looking for a job, they might decide that I’d look good in diapers and a bonnet!” “So ask for a job!” Her response was rapid fire. “When? On the weekend? Most daycares are closed then! What happens if they offer me a job? If I don’t accept then and there, they might think that I’m being immature or have maturosis or whatever!” If I didn’t know any better, she’d been thinking about this more than actually searching for Cassie. I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose. Tracy was screwing around and needed me to tell her exactly what to do. Oddly enough, it felt kind of empowering. “Okay,” I said. “Okay. Here’s what we can do. How about when we walk back, we talk to Janet about you becoming a babysitter. So far she only has one.” “Clark…” “Maybe you can get some extra cash and store it away for later. It’ll give us more time to research and plan together.” “Boss…” I was pacing. “And then on the next three day weekend, or maybe an early release day, you could offer to sit me and take me out on the town, and we can investigate together. You’ll pretend that you just adopted me and that you’re shopping around. That’ll get us a tour. And nobody cares what the babied Little is searching for, so I can be more brazen about it. I’ll just be looking for friends or something…” I was also avoiding eye contact, staring at my shoes so that I didn’t notice Tracy’s uncomfortable fidgeting. “Maybe you could get me some pants for me, too.” I stopped and took a breath. Tracy’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish. “You’re not gonna do it. Are you?” “Boss,” Tracy tried, “I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” I snapped. “You promised!” “I know, but…” “You promised me!” “It’s really hard!” If anyone was out, walking to the front office or the cafeteria, or just from one unconnected classroom to another, they could hear us. “Clark, it’s been really hard without you! I’m scrambling just to keep our class together. Half are developing really nasty attitudes and the other half are this close to falling apart! I can’t risk leaving them! Every night I come home I’m completely physically and emotionally exhausted!” I gestured to myself. “My time hasn’t been restful, either!” She turned her head slightly and grabbed her right elbow with her left arm “Well, you at least have an earlier bedtime…and a comfy crib.” My voice lowered back down to a whisper. “They didn’t force you to leave campus that day, did you?” Tracy looked blindsided. “What?” “Someone might have come into your classroom and asked you to leave, probably phrased it as telling you that you could go home for the day, but it didn’t really take that much persuasion, did it?” “What? No…Boss.” “Maybe somebody followed you to your car to make sure you left, but that was it. You didn’t even try to go with the plan to adopt me. Didn’t even mention an interest.” I was building up steam. More than steam. “Clark…” she said. “We had that plan, but it wasn’t really a plan. Just a fantasy. And you cooked it up and kind of pressured me into it.” Something close to a growl rose up out of me. “Typical Tweener,” I hissed. “The only thing you’re good at is looking out for yourself. “You’re only sad you lost a cushy job working with me.” “Boss, that’s not true.” She looked like she was close to crying. “It’s more complicated than all of that.” “Come here. I need to tell you something.” Trustingly, stupidly, Tracy leaned in to meet me eye to eye. On some level, I think she knew what was coming. That’s when I spat in her face. The glob of saliva landed right above her right eyebrow and dripped down to her cheekbones before she wiped it off and gingerly flicked the spittle to the pavement. “Okay,” she said. “I kind of deserved that. So you get that on-” I gave her a matching glob on her left eyebrow, this one straight on. THWACK! The slap rocked my world and I stumbled over myself trying not to fall over and skin my knees on the concrete. “I said you only get one.” Tracy told me. “I meant it.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It didn’t hurt as bad as a giant spanking but it was straight to my face. “Oh. So you… keep that promise!” That didn’t sound nearly as cool out loud as it did in my head just then. My face wasn’t throbbing but it stung like hell. No bruising, though. “I warned you.” “You hit me.” “I warned you!” “You hit me!” The last syllables echoed off the bricks. Tracy leaned in again. “What are you gonna do about it? Tell your Mommy on me?” I had nothing. Not even saliva. Of course I wasn’t going to do that. She stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt. “Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom. Put some cold water on your face. Wait for the.redness to go down.” My hand took hers. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.” If the redness hadn’t gone down enough, I’d just tell Janet that I was crying and screaming at Tracy and that I never wanted to see her again for the rest of my miserable life. That wouldn’t have been a lie. Tracy never got caught for slapping the taste out of my mouth. Late on a Friday afternoon, even in a place like Oakshire, people want to go out and start their weekend as soon as possible. Even educators. Especially educators. Brollish very well could have gone home. Forrest’s spot up front was too far away. Only the teachers in hardcore mode remained on campus, and they were all holed up in their classrooms, grading and filing everything all at once so that they could have a few days’ relief on Saturday and Sunday. A custodian might have seen something, but they were all Tweeners, too. They weren’t snitching. Me? I’ve never told anyone. Not until now. “I really am sorry,” Tracy said on our way to the girl’s bathroom. “Fuck you.” “Yeah,” she agreed, looking straight ahead and not at me. “Sounds about right.”
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  34. Chapter 29: The next morning, I once again found myself locked into my new highchair, my feet dangling above floor, with a bib tightly secured around my neck, only wearing my nighttime diaper, that despite being soaked Mom had deemed okay to last me through breakfast and until I made my morning “messies”. Breakfast didn’t differ much from dinner from the night before, as Mom produced a couple of glass jars and placed them on the tray in front of me, together will a full zippy cup of milk. “Apple, pear and Banana” one jar read, while the other said “carrots, potato and spinach”. The later didn’t sound particularly appetizing and as Mom unscrewed the lid, it didn’t look or smell any better than it sounded. But I had no say in the matter of what made its way into my mouth, because soon Mom was performing her “grand” airplane routine, making the spoon fly all around in front of me, before the “plane” unloaded its cargo into my mouth. The texture, smell and taste of the slobbery mess almost made me vomit and only a fraction of it was allowed to stay inside my mouth, as I yacked, gagged and coughed spitting food all over the place, making the vial substance run down my jaw, onto my bib, splatter onto the tray of the highchair, some of it even landing on my bare stomach and the front of my soggy diaper. Mom repeated her airplane routine several time, all with more or less the same outcome, resulting in me soon being covered in mush, before she finally got the hint and allowed me to grab my zippycup with both hands, as I gulped down the milk, trying to wash away the terrible taste as Mom switched to the other glass jar, filling the spoon and getting ready for another go. This mush not only tasted, but also smelled way more appealing and I happily let Mom unload spoonful, after spoonful into my mouth, only taking short breaks to wash it all down with big gulps of sweet thick milk. It didn’t take long for me to finish that jar and suck the last few drops of milk from the zippycup, ending the whole ordeal with a loud burp that completely caught me by surprised and resulted in Mom letting out a loud chuckle, as she started packing everything away and getting me cleaned up to the best of her ability using several wet wipes. When Mommy was happy with her job, she finally unlocked the tray of the highchair allowing me to jump down onto the floor. I could hear the TV running in the living room, the sound of sheep’s and cows echoing through the house. The thought of my favorite show on the television quickly made me drop to my hands and knees and make a mad dash for the living room, wearing only my soaked overnight diaper, which was swaying from side to side, as I made across the floor towards the living room. As always it didn’t take long for my breakfast to speed up my digestion, the gooey consistency of last night dinner easily made its way through my bowels and soon I found myself sitting on my soft blanket in the middle of the living room, completely messing myself with little to no care, as my gaze stayed locked on the bright colors of the TV, all was right in the world at that moment and I happily sang along, as the lady with the funny colored hair, once again started singing about all the animals that lived on her farm. My mind once again returned to the words that Uncle Rob had spoken the night before. “The only thing that you’re getting dirty at the moment, are your nappies.” He was right, at one point just the mere thought of messing myself, would have made me rock hard and filled with sexual arousal, but in that very moment, as I shifted my weight from one side to another and felt the soft gooey mess move around my diaper, making its way in-between my thighs and up the back of my saturated diaper, there was nothing resembling just an ounce of arousal or excitement. When Mom found me in the living room, sitting in my own filth completely entranced by the TV, she was quick to guide me to the bathroom and run a nice warm bath, making sure to wash me all over, before I once again found myself in a clean diaper and a light blue onesie, which was all I ended up wearing for the remainder of the day. Mom spent the day moving swiftly around the house, almost running circles around me, as I spent time watching television, playing with “Mr. Bunny Rabbit” or at one point I made my way out into the backyard and rolled the ball around the lawn by myself, just as me and Jack had done the day before. My playtime and Mom’s running around, were only interrupted by the occasional diaper check, zippy cup of sweet could juice or when I once again found myself strapped into the highchair for lunch, which boringly resembled my dinner and breakfast, consisting of 3 jars of mushy babyfood, one sweet and inviting and two yucky and wile. But Mom did a great job of distracting me from the terrible taste and before I knew it all three jars were empty and washed down by two full zippy cups of cold milk. “Okay, little guy! Time for beddy byes!” Mom exclaimed. The day had passed fairly quickly, but despite not having any real sense of time, I knew that bedtime had come a lot sooner this evening, than it normally would. “But,MOM!” I pleaded but was quickly cut off. “No buts, mister. You’re Auntie and Jack will be here early tomorrow morning, we have to hit the road early to beat the traffic and we can’t have you be a fuzzy little guy.” My mind quickly started spinning. “Hit the road? Traffic? Karen and Jack?” I couldn’t make sense of it, I knew I had been told the reason or the answer at some point, but my mind seemed hazy or seemed to have let go of the answer. “Where are we going, Mommy?” I eventually asked, as I was being led by my mind towards my bedroom. “You don’t remember, baby?” The wheels were turning in my head, but I couldn’t put my finger on the right answer. It was in there somewhere; I knew it but I simply couldn’t find it. “I could swear that I’ve told you several times.” Mom threw my bedsheets to the side and guided me onto the mattress. “You, me, Jack and your Auntie Karen are going to spent some days with your Granny Simone down south. Isn’t that exciting!?” She wrapped the sheets tightly around me, before reaching over, finding a fresh pacifier and placing it between my lips, not allowing me to answer her question. “It’s going to me so much fun. You and Jack will get to play on the beach, bath in the ocean.” She slowly started stroking my hair, while sitting on the edge of my bed. “A few days in the sun to just play around. We may even go to the amusement park, you’ve always loved that. Remember?” My eyes slowly started getting heavy, as she continued to stroke my hair and her voice slowly started to fade. “Granny is just dying to see you; I’ve told her so much about everything. You’re to have so much fu-“ My mind went blank, as I went into a heavy slumber before Mom had a chance to finish her sentence. That night I dreamed of tumbling around on a sandy beach, splashing in the blue ocean waves and building massive sandcastles. Mom had been right. Despite being put to bed early the night before, I still felt groggy and sleepy when she woke me up the next morning and had problems processing everything that was going on around me. Mom must have been up for a while, because from the seat of my highchair, I could spot several bags placed at the front door, already packed and ready to be loaded as soon as Karen and Jack arrived. After feeding me another round of indescribable mush, Mom was quick to get me changed into a fresh diaper, plain white onesie with a pair of blue denim shortalls on top, before leaving me alone to watch TV as she got everything cleaned up and the last couple of bags packed. It wasn’t long before I could hear a car pull into the driveway and the doorbell ringing. “Morning!” Karen’s voice echoed through the house, as I could hear Mom greeting her back. The sound of the car trunk opening and bag, after bag being loaded into the car was next to follow. “I forgot how hectic it was to travel with a toddler.” Mom laughed. “Yeah, you can’t exactly travel light.” Karen chuckled back, as they continued to load the car before finally slamming the trunk. The TV was soon turned off, as Mom instructed me to follow her to the car. “Oh! Don’t forget “Mr. BunnyRabbit” I’m sure he wanna go to.” She remarked, as I quickly turned and grabbed my stuffed friend from the floor. At the front door Mom helped me step into my shoes and quickly had them tied, before we exited the house and slammed the door behind us. As Mom opened the door to the backseat of the car, I spotted Jack already strapped into his carseat, wearing a bright blue onesie and thick padding between his legs. He gave me a large innocent smile, as I jumped into the back next to him, where Mom quickly pulled the seat belt across my chest, making sure it was nice and tight, before slamming the door shut. As her and Karen got themselves position in the front, I made sure to clutch “Mr BunnyRabbit” tight to my chest, as the humming of the engine started. “Everyone ready!?” Karen exclaimed excited, giving both me and Jack a quick look through the rearview mirror. “Then let’s get going.” The car set in motion and soon we were on our way. Jack was mesmerized by some kind of squeaky toy and kept himself entertained, as the adults listened to the radio. My gaze was focused out the window on the houses, threes and other cars that we passed by. We soon made the turn onto the freeway and started exiting the city, as the space between the threes and building became wider and wider. We also seemingly had managed to beat traffic, as the time between us pacing other cars also became longer and we were making great progress, as the car ate mile after mile of highway. “THIRSTY!” Jack’s voice suddenly sounded catching the attention of everyone in the car. “Oh, Susan. There are a couple of juiceboxes and zippycups in the small pocket of Jack’s diaperbag. Think you can reach them and fix the boys something to drink?” Mom did as instructed, turning around in her seat to reach for Jack’s diaperbag, finding the juice and cups exactly where Karen had explained and soon had both cups filled to the brim with sweet nectar. “Here ya go, boys.” She handed Jack his zippycup, which he happy grabbed tightly in his palms and started sucking on the nozzle of the cup. “You too, baby. Its awfully warm today and it’s important to stay hydrated.” She explained while handing me the childish cup. “But I’m not thirsty!” I remarked. “Sure you are. Just give it a try, at least just half.” She placed the cup in my hands, forcing me to grab it. My thirst clearly wasn’t up for debate, as I reluctantly grabbed the zippycup and put the nozzle between my lips, which got a smile from Mom before she turned back around in her seat. The juice did taste nice and sweet and were surprisingly cold and it didn’t take long for me to gulp down half the content of the zippycup and I wasn’t planning on stopping, as I continued to suckle away, downing mouthful after mouthful of the sweet cold nectar. I managed to finish my cup long before Jack, as I carelessly let go of it, watching it fall onto the seat beside me, before rolling of and into the bottom of the car. My eyes once again shifted out the car window miles and miles of freeway was just flying by now. It seemed almost hypnotic, making my eyes flickers as I tried to focus and follow the cars and trucks that we passed by. My gaze started turning fuzzy, my eyelids started getting heavy, the movement of the car were so soothing, the radio talking in the background turned into a faint humming, soon my eyes closed and I drifted off. I awoke as the car came to a halt, my eyes slowly opened as I heard two car doors open and then slam shut. My vision was still blurry and my mind fuzzy as my door quickly opened and my seatbelt were unbuckled. One POP, two POPS, three POPS, I slowly started returning to reality as I felt a pair of fingers enter my diaper between the legband and my thighs. “Seems like we caught you at the last second, Mister. That Juice made its way straight through you, this nappy is right at its breaking point.” I slowly turned my head and finally came eye to eye with Mommy, as I felt her fingers exit my diaper as she quickly closed the snaps of my onesie and shortalls again. “Better get you changed, before you ruin the seats of Auntie Karen’s car.” I turned my head to see that Karen had already removed Jack from his carseat and had him on her hip, as she closed the car door behind her, before my guided me out of the car. The sun were shinning down brightly upon us, once again making my vision go blurry for a second, before I finally managed to refocus and get a feel of our surroundings. We were parked at a huge gas station, several car moving in and out of the parking lot around us. In the distance were rows and rows of pumps and next to them a small minimart, that surely sold everything needed for a road trip. It took a second for my blurry mind to have a look down at myself and realize that I was standing in the middle of this busy parking space in nothing but my shortalls, onesie and with a very visible and swollen diaper, looking like a huge unpottytrained toddler. Panic hit me for a second, as I tried grabbing the car door, wanting to open it and jump back into the backseat to find safety and comfort. But my plan was quickly prevented as Mom grabbed my wrist tightly, having already retrieved my diaperbag from the trunk, she kept a firm grasp of my wrist as she started dragging me across the hot cement coated parkinglot directly towards the minimart at the opposite end. “I’ll go get this one changed, meet you on the inside!” She loudly announced across the parkinglot to Karen, as she continued to make our way towards the store. The automatic door opened and the cool air of the AC greeted us, as we entered the small store. It was nothing special or to write home about. Several shelves filled with snacks, a few cleaning supplies for your car, a couple of freezers and several rows of fridges filled with drinks and beverages. Luckily it wasn’t too crowded, a few people working behind the disk, busy preparing hotdogs and ringing in costumers. A few travelers were browsing the aisles, I tried keeping my head down, avoiding eye contact or making anyone aware of my presence, as my scanned the store with her stare. “Oh, there there!” She spotted the toilets and also the sign indicating that they had a “family toilet”. Despite my best attempts to turn invincible a few people did notice us, as Mom dragged me across the store towards the bathrooms and despite my best efforts it was hard to avoid eye contact with every single one of them. A few just gave me a quick glance and then quickly turned away, but some also got eyes as large as dinner plates when they spotted my outfit and afterwards spotted my heavily padded crotch. My eyes quickly darted to the floor, every time I locked eyes with one of them, like a shy child I kept my head low, as I was dragged along the shelves towards the changing station. As we finally reached the door to the family toilet, I let out a sigh of relieve, at least in there I would be safe and shielded from the eyes of the public. But my calmness was short lived, as Mom grabbed a hold of the handle, giving it a firm tug only to realize. “Oops, occupied. Looks like you’re not the only baby in need of a change today.” She chuckled. “We’ll just have to wait a few moments, Honey.” She pulled to away from the door and against the wall, as we waited for the toilet to clear. Those few minutes standing there, staring at the floor, knowing damn well that I had nowhere to hide felt like an eternity, but finally the door to the toilet swung open, as a middle aged women with a diaper bag swung over her shoulder and a small child on her hip exited. She spotted Mom as she passed. “All yours.” She happily greeted, before her eyes darted to me. First to my outfit and then to my swollen, padded crotch. “Hope I won’t have to keep changing diapers for that many years.” She chuckled as she made her way cross the store. “Come on, Honey. We’re up.” Mommy grabbed me by the wrist guiding me into the toilet and locking the door behind us. Once inside Mom was quick to find everything she needed in the diaperbag. Folding out a plastic changing mat she soon had me flat on my back on the floor, staring into the ceiling. With a few quick snaps the crotch of my shortalls came open and my onesie soon followed, revealing my soggy diaper to the world. The tapes soon came off and the air hit my bare crotch as Mommy made a quick job of cleaning me with a few wipes, before producing a fresh diaper and sliding it under me. I soon found myself nice, dry, clean and rediapered as Mommy discarded the used diaper in the bin, before closing up my onesie and shortalls and helping me to my feet, before putting everything bag in the diaperbag. “All done! What a good boy you are!” She complimented me, once again taking me by the hand and unlocking the door, leading me back out into the store. “Oh! There you are, you two.” Karen came out from between the aisles still holding Jack on her hip. “I bought some snacks and drinks and found a bench outside. How about getting something in our tummies, before we continue?” Mom nodded in agreement and we all made our way out the store. Just to the left of the shop were several benches with seating, luckily with no one around at that time, to my relieve as we settled down and took our seats. Both Mom and Karen quickly produced a couple of bibs from each diaper bag and soon both me and Jack were ready for lunch, which to my dismay were going to consist of the same yacky mush that had also made up my breakfast, lunch and dinner the last couple of days. Karen held Jack on her knee and started feeding him. Jack seemed hungry a did a great job of keeping most of the mush inside his mouth, only spilling a little onto his bib during the ordeal, which Karen were quick to scoop up with her spoon and place back into the open mouth of her son. I did my best to not make a mess, I REALLY did. But have you ever tried being force-fed something that you really didn’t like. It’s not only the taste, but the smell and even the thought that gets you. Every time Mom would approach my mouth with a fresh spoonful of mush, I would automatically start gagging and that gagging reflex would send half the mush unloaded into my mouth, back out and onto my chin and bib and the mush just kept on coming. It felt like Mom was shoveling mush at the speed of light, trying to scoop everything spilled on my bib and face back into my mouth. I was so busy half vomiting, half trying not to gag and NOT to make a mess, that I didn’t notice the people passing by, who must have gotten quite a show watching this mother try to feed her overgrown toddler. Finally, the jar was empty. The result was Jack was left with a nearly clean bib which Karen praised him for and Mommy needing to use several wipes to clean me up and make me half decent for the remaining part of our trip. We were both given another zippycup of cold sweet juice to wash our lunch down with, as the adult enjoyed their sandwiches and beverages before packing everything up and making our way back to the car. Once we were all strapped in, Mom produced a fresh bib from my diaper bag and placed it around my neck. “Mom, what are yo-“ I didn’t finish my sentence, before Mommy handed me an ice-cream which she had already opened. “Think you deserve this, for being such a good boy in the store earlier.” She gave me a kind smile before closing the door and jumping in the front and soon the car was rolling again. Now the first couple of minutes went very well, I did a good job of eating the icecream and not making a mess, but soon I was not able to keep up with the melting process of the sugary substance and slowly it started to drip onto my jaw with every bite. The onto my hands as I was holding onto the stick. The spillage became bigger with every bite and soon sugary water was splashing onto my bib with every bite and in-between bites it started to drip from my hands and onto my shortalls and thighs. A few drops even missed me and landed on the seat of Auntie Karen’s car. I knew I was doing a terrible but of eating the frozen popsicle, but didn’t dare say anything. Instead I rushed through slobbering down the remaining few bits, which of course resulted in an even bigger mess. When my treat was all but gone, I was left with my hands, face, bib, shortalls all covered in the sticky sugary substance. But the worst part was the mess I had made of Auntie Karen’s car. I did my best to hide the evidence, trying to lick my hands and face clean, covering myself in drool in the process, but managing to remove much of the sticky mess and otherwise remained quiet for the remainder of the drive. Jack was sound asleep in his carseat next to me and the adult were focusing on the traffic and road ahead. I knew I was in big trouble for making such a mess, but didn’t dare to say anything so instead I sunk back into my seat and tried to make myself as small as possible and not draw any attention. As if the mess I had already made of myself was enough, my gut soon gave me little to no notice as I felt the back of my diaper expand with a warm squishy mess that slowly spread across the back of my diaper and continued in-between my thigs. I hadn’t made my “morning messies” before we left home and the sugary water of the popsicle was apparently more than my stomac could handle, as it emptied itself into my diaper which continued to expand, as the warm mush kept on coming and making its way around my diaper for what seemed like and eternity. To finish the job my bladder also decided to let loose releasing a flood of warm pee into my already soiled and ruined diaper, leaving me not only a mess on top but also down low. I didn’t dare say anything, afraid of the anger I would meet for having made such a mess of myself and Karen’s car. So I simply sank even lower into my seat. My diaper had turned cold and clammy and was on the verge of bursting as the car finally came to a holt. I peeked out of the side window and saw a large house that I recognized. “We’re HEEEERRRREEEE!!” Mommy announced as Karen turned off the car engine.
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