Chels in Ribbons

Hi all! Just wanted to provide a quick update so that yall know this story isn't dead! It's the end of the semester for me, which means I'm very busy and haven't had much time to work on this story. I apologize for keeping you all waiting, but, once the semester ends, I should have a lot of free time to make good progress on this story. So while it might be a few weeks before the next update, after that they should continue pretty regularly. Thanks for your patience!

I'm glad to hear that! It's a very slow build up to what I know y'all are here for, so I'm very glad to hear it's not too slow. Speaking of what y'all have been waiting for.... Chapter Eighteen Ms. Akiyama awoke early that Friday morning and paced between the kitchen and living room, anxiously waiting to see what morning would bring. Emma had said it would likely take a few days, but she had said it was possible that it might happen the first night, especially given Rei’s history of wetting the bed. Ms. Akiyama almost hoped it would the first night. She was anxious about the whole thing, and the sooner it started, the better. The sooner she knew how Rei would react, the sooner she could stop worrying about it. And she was definitely anxious about Rei’s reaction. Emma had reassured Ms. Akiyama that as long as she played her part, Rei would never be the wiser, but Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but worry. She had known plenty of parents who had used behavioral therapy on their daughters, but, to her knowledge, none had gone to these lengths. Of course, as Emma had said, Rei was a tough case. Of course, on the other hand, Ms. Akiyama wasn’t sure she was prepared to deal with Rei’s reaction, especially if she reacted poorly. So, it was with a mix of relief and impatience that Ms. Akiyama greeted Rei that morning as the latter walked down the stairs in the same pajamas she had worn to bed the night before. Competely dry, of course. Before long, Ms. Akiyama was seeing her daughter out the day for her day at school. Then, it was time for her to get to work. With the rise of regressive behavioral therapy as a mainstream practice, more and more mothers across the country found themselves suddenly in need of, so to speak, maternity leave. While some of the more liberal supporters of the Hayes Act had argued for stipends to help mothers who needed to leave the workforce to care for their daughters, ultimately the conservatives won that issue, and instead many work places were forced to offer work-at-home options for women so they could do it all. Strictly speaking, Ms. Akiyama didn’t the extra time at home to care for her daughter—at least, she hadn’t at the time, and she still hoped things wouldn’t go that far—but she had still taken advantage of these work-from-home options. So, Ms. Akiyama, having seen Rei off, retired to the her office, which doubled as a guest room, and logged onto her computer for her day of work. It was a slow day at work, and when a couple hours into her day the name “Heather Eckridge” showed up across the screen of her cell phone, she was happy for the distraction. “Hi, Heather,” Ms. Akiyama answered. “Hi, hun, not catching you at a bad time, am I?” “Not all,” Ms. Akiyama lightly laughed, “it’s a slow day at work, I’ve got plenty of time to talk.” “Oh, hun, same here! And I was just sitting and started thinking about you and thought I’d call and ask if you had made an appointment at Brighter Days yet?” “Oh, actually…” Ms. Akiyama proceeded to fill Heather in on the happenings of the last few days. “If I’m being honest,” she concluded, “I’m still a bit nervous about the whole thing. I mean, they said Rei won’t have a clue, but I’m just not sure…she’s so smart and perceptive, I can’t imagine a little hypnosis fooling her.” Heather made a sympathetic sound, “I thought the same thing about Megan, but I don’t think things would have gone as smoothly as they did without it. And I’ve talked to other moms who used it, and they all swear by it!” “Well, I guess we will see, won’t we?” “For what it’s worth, darling, I think you’re doing the right thing by Rei. She always was too smart for her own good, and it sounds like nothing has changed on that front. Of course, Megan was always the same, that’s why I made sure I nipped it in the bud with her early.” Ms. Akiyama sighed, “Maybe I should have done this sooner.” “Don’t be hard on yourself; I don’t think it ever would have been easy with Rei. She’s always been so…headstrong.” Ms. Akiyama laughed, “that she has,” then sighed, “how was it with Megan? Did you have trouble with her?” “Honestly? Very little. She was definitely resistant at first, angry even, but with a little help and strategic planning from Brighter Days, she was practically back in diapers before I knew it.” “That’s…wow, I’m a little surprised.” Ms. Akiyama could practically hear Heather shrug through the phone, “well, that was when I knew for certain there really was something to this and that I had done the right thing. And so are you.” “I certainly hope so,” Ms. Akiyama sighed, “I just feel so powerless to protect her when she’s off at that college learning who knows what and hanging out with God knows what kind of bad influences.” “Darling, I do not understand why you let her go there, especially if you are so worried about it!” “Rei loves her education; I’d just hate to take it away from her. I mean, I know that sounds absurd, I’ll make her a bedwetter but I won’t take her out of college, but I just…I’ve always been so proud of how much Rei loved school, and it would break my heart for her to lose that love.” “Then send her to an extended high school program! Megan loves hers!” Ms. Akiyama paused, briefly caught off guard, “Megan goes to…a high school program?” “Absolutely! You sound surprised.” “Well, no offense, I just figured Megan more for an elementary program, maybe even a preschool.” Heather laughed, “Megan lives like a toddler in a lot of ways, but she’s still smart as a whip. Unfortunately,” Heather’s voice took on a serious tone, “she does get picked on a little bit. She’s far from the only girl in her high school who wears diapers, but she’s definitely not as mature as most of her peers. Still, it’s what makes her happy.” “Huh,” Ms. Akiyama was genuinely at a loss for words. “Well, as long as she’s happy.” “You know, Megan could use a friend at high school, and Rei might be more open to the idea of a high school program if she already had a friend there…” Ms. Akiyama rolled that around in her head for a moment, “you might have a point there,” she said at last. “And Megan was asking about Rei the other day…” “Mm, maybe we should schedule a play date for the girls for this weekend,” Ms. Akiyama suggested with a smile. “This weekend doesn’t work for us,” Heather replied, “but, besides, call it a hunch, but I think Rei will be more open to the suggestion once she’s started wetting the bed. So, maybe sometime next week after school?” “Perfect.” With that, the two cemented their plans for the next week, exchanged some pleasantries, then mutually agreed they should both probably go back to focusing on work, regardless of how slow it was. Ms. Akiyama went through the rest of her day feeling pretty good about her plans for Rei. She was still nervous, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe Rei would take to it just as naturally as Megan had. And maybe, if she could rekindle that friendship, Rei would be more willing to go to an extended high school program. Not to mention, with Megan as her friend again, Ms. Akiyama could stop worrying so much about the company Rei was keeping. That evening, Ms. Akiyama dutifully mixed Rei’s new medication in with the mound of mashed potatoes on the girl’s plate, then called her down to dinner like she did every night. Rei ate the potatoes without comment or hint of suspicion, yet come Saturday morning, she was still dry. Undaunted, Ms. Akiyama went about her Saturday. A little bit of light housework in the morning, followed by some errands (she invited Rei along, but her daughter cited being under a pile of homework to stay home), and then back home. She spent the first half of her afternoon holed up in her office, reading parenting blogs and articles about other moms’ experiences with behavioral therapy, and the second half splayed out on the couch, reading the latest Stephanie Queen novel. As dinnertime approached, Ms. Akiyama found herself knocking on her daughter’s door. Without waiting for a reply, she cracked the door open and stuck her head in. Rei was at her desk, a word document open on the screen of her computer and two books laying open on her desk. “You’ve been working all day?” Ms. Akiyama asked. Rei swiveled around in her chair to look back at her mother, “yeah, I’ve got an essay due this week.” “I worry about you working too hard,” Ms. Akiyama opened the door the rest of the way and stepped into the doorframe, “you’re going to stress yourself out. That’s not good for girls your age, it’s not good for your brain development,” that, at least, was what she had this afternoon. Rei frowned, “Mom, that’s not true—” Ms. Akiyama raised her hand to silence her daughter, “I don’t want to hear it, Rei, I know what’s best for you.” Rei felt her cheeks heat up at the memory of where it had led last time she had argued against that. She felt her anger rise a bit, too, but not enough to overcome the shame. She just nodded and held her mouth closed. “So,” Ms. Akiyama continued once she was sure Rei wasn’t going to protest, “I think you should take a break, okay?” “But, Mom, I need to finish this essay…” “When is it due?” “Wednesday.” “And how far along are you?” “I have,” Rei looked back at her screen, “700 words written.” “And how many do you need?” “A thousand.” “Oh, well, then you’re almost done! You can easily finish that essay tomorrow, can’t you?” “I…I guess…I just would really like to get it done tonight.” Ms. Akiyama sighed, she really was proud of how studious her daughter was, she just regretted Rei no longer lived in a world where that would lead to happiness for her. And, besides, most parents seemed to agree their daughters were much healthier and happier when they weren’t so stressed. Of course, Ms. Akiyama had an ulterior motive here. So much of what she had read earlier that day had stressed the importance of mother/daughter bonding during regressive behavioral therapy. After all, part of the reason this kind of therapy was so effective is that is taught daughters to be more reliant on their mothers and give up some control to them, that could only happen with sufficient bonding. So, Ms. Akiyama was determined to try to engage in more bonding time with her daughter. Thankfully, this could also serve the purpose of keeping Rei from unhealthy habits like studying all day. “I’ll tell you what,” Ms. Akiyama said, deciding negotiation might be the best way to go here, “why don’t I order us a pizza, and you can keep on working until the pizza gets here, okay? But, once it gets here, you put the essay away for the night, and come downstairs and watch a movie with me, okay? I’ll even let you pick the movie.” Rei gave her mother a genuine if slight smile, seemed to consider the offer for a moment, then finally spoke, “Can we order from Lucia’s?” “Of course.” “Focaccia bread crust?” “Absolutely.” “Extra pepperoni and jalapenos?” “If that’s what you want.” “…gelato?” Ms. Akiyama laughed, “of course, can’t order from Lucia’s without getting some gelato.” “And I pick the movie?” “Yes, of course, any other demands?” “Soda.” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but chuckle at that one: she had stopped keeping soda in the house when Rei was around ten and the doctor’s suggested she stop giving Rei soda to help her with her wetting problems and had never picked the habit back up after Rei’s problems had cleared up, keeping soda an occasional treat at the Akiyama house. “You got it,” Ms. Akiyama nodded, “we got a deal?” Rei nodded, “yeah, okay, deal.” Roughly fourty-five minutes later, the pair found themselves huddled under a blanket on the couch, eating pizza, and watching a new horror movie Rei had been looking forward to. Rei chugged her first glass of soda, laced, of course, with her new medications, and drank three more glasses after that. Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but watch and wonder if Rei was sealing her fate. When the movie was over, Ms. Akiyama was shocked when she suggested the two play a board game and Rei agreed almost immediately. They hadn’t played board games together since…well…truthfully, not since Rei’s father had passed. Really, Ms. Akiyama thought as they set up the board to play Life, that had been when the two had first started to truly drift apart. Ms. Akiyama missed how close they used to be, maybe more than she had realized before that night. But all that was about to change; she was certain of it. After two games of Life and one game of Clue, a drowsy looking Rei yawned, bid her mother goodnight, and retired to her room. Ms. Akiyama smiled and watched her daughter sleepily drag herself up the stairs. She had a feeling the next morning was going to be a new beginning for the mother and daughter. Rei, on the other hand, cluelessly went through her bedtime routine. She brushed her teeth, washed and moisturized her face, used the toilet, changed into pajamas, climbed into bed, turned her white noise machine on, and snuggled into her blankets, just like she did every night. Chapter Nineteen. It was raining. Big fat raindrops plopped against the windows of Greenham Community College’s cafeteria and ran down the glass in streaks. The glass was cold against Rei’s forehead as she stared out across the empty patio. “Rei, are you paying attention?” Rei’s head snapped forward, “yes, sorry,” she looked up at Professor Rosenstine, her math professor, and nodded. “Good, then you won’t mind coming up to the board to solve this problem?” “Oh, o-of course not,” on shaky knees, Rei slide out of the booth and made her way to the freestanding whiteboard set up in the middle of the lunch tables. Around her, everyone suddenly got silent and put their lunches down, turning their attention instead to her as she approached the board. “Quickly, now, Rei,” Professor Rosenstine said impatiently. Rei was weaving her way through the desks, but the board didn’t seem to be getting any closer, “you’re dawdling, Rei!” “Sorry, Professor, I—” before she could continue her sentence, her foot tangled with a foot thrust into the aisle at the last minute and she went tumbling head over heels to the floor. Laughter erupted from around her. Professor Rosenstine looked down at her as she lay sprawled on her back, “are you quite done causing a spectacle, Rei?” “Yes, sorry,” Rei scrambled to her feet, brushing her clothes off quickly before taking the dry erase marker from the professor and turning her attention to the math problem on the board. Numbers and letters swam in her vision. Focus as she might, they wouldn’t stop moving and shifting. “We’re waiting, Rei.” Rei turned around to look to her peers for assistance, but found herself staring into a mirror, a line of closed bathroom stall doors behind her. Why was she here again? A girl came out of one of the stalls and gave Rei a weird look as she approached the sink next to her to wash her hands. “Are you in the wrong room?” The girl asked, then added, “the changing rooms are next door if you need to be changed.” What was she talking about? Changed? Rei froze as a hunch formed. She looked down and, sure enough, the plastic waistband of a diaper stuck out from her jeans, which bulged comically around her crotch and butt. “No,” she protested, “I don’t…this is a mistake…” “There you are!” A woman’s voice boomed and echoed off the tiled wall and floor as she burst into through the restroom door. Rei didn’t recognize the woman, but she knew who she was; she was her daycare teacher. The woman grabbed Rei by the wrist and effortlessly dragged her back through the door, “what are you doing, running off like that?” Rei protested and tried to wriggle free from the woman’s grasp, but nothing she said or did seemed to phase her. Up ahead, Rei saw Riley talking to another girl she didn’t know. She called out Riley’s name, but when Riley looked at her, there was no recognition there. Riley merely watched, vaguely disgusted, as Rei was dragged past her. “Ugh,” Riley said to the other girl once Rei had passed them, “kill me if I ever become like that.” Rei watched the two girls recede down the hall. “Here we are,” the woman who had been dragging her cooed as she finally stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, “back to class with you.” She pushed Rei through the door, and Rei looked around at the room around her. It looked like a daycare, but everything was sized up. There were about a dozen girls her age, all dressed like toddlers, sitting in four rows in the center of the room and looking forward at a kindly looking woman in front of a chalkboard. “Ah, Rei, welcome back,” she said as she looked up at Rei. “I…I think I’m in the wrong room,” Rei said weakly. “Nonsense! We transferred you here after you were unable to solve that tricky math problem! This classroom is much better suited to girls your age, anyway! Speaking of, why don’t you come to the board to do the math problem?” Rei swallowed hard, but her feet started moving on their own. She couldn’t help but notice that she waddled slightly, an unfamiliar but somehow also familiar bulk between her legs. As she approached, she took the chalk the teacher offered, and turned to the board. This time, the numbers came easily into focus: 3+5= Oh, Rei thought, this was easy. Smiling confidently, she grasped the chalk in her hand, and drew a great, big, curvy 8. She looked over to the teacher for approval. “Mmm,” the teacher said, her mouth a tight-lipped frown, “that’s not quite right, Rei.” “What? But…” Rei turned back to the chalkboard: 3+4=8. “Wait, that’s…” “It’s okay, you’ll get it next time! Why don’t you go ahead and sit down.” In a daze, Rei plopped down on the floor with the rest of the girls. What was happening? As she ruminated on that question, she felt a sudden and urgent pressure in her bladder. Instinctively, she clamped her muscles down, but it was taking all her effort to keep the floodgates closed. But…why was she holding it? She was wearing a diaper, after all, so shouldn’t she just… The thought wasn’t even done before Rei felt the dam burst and a torrent flooded out of her. The feeling of warmth and wetness spread out through her crotch and across her butt, continuing down her legs. She looked down in panic as the dark spot in the crotch of her jeans spread out. But…hadn’t she just…? “Professor!” A voice rang out to her left, “Rei just peed her pants!” Rei’s whipped towards the voice and saw Jennifer Duffy sitting next to her. Rei looked around herself. She was in Professor Lewis’ class and everyone was looking at her. She looked to her right and found Riley chuckling and looking at her like she was a freak. At the head of the classroom, Professor Lewis just looked at Rei with disappointment on her face. And then Rei was back in her bedroom, panting and covered in cold sweat. It had all been a dream. Rei sighed with relief. She tried grasping at the details of the dream, trying to remember what had reacting like this, but found it already dissipating into the night. But as Rei calmed down, she began to notice something was not quite right. Rei didn’t really need to throw back her covers to be certain of what had happened, but she did so anyway, refusing to believe until she saw for herself. Rei Akiyama had wet the bed.

I'm posting this from my phone, so hopefully it's not weirdly formatted! Enjoy! Chapter Sixteen The next day, Ms. Akiyama made another trip to Brighter days to pick up her supplies. That night, Ms. Akiyama made one of Rei’s favorite dinners: a simple spaghetti with meat sauce. As she cooked, she thought back to her conversation with Emma the day before. “Now,” Emma had said, “a girl like Rei is likely to get very suspicious if you suddenly start trying to get her to take new medications. For less resistant girls, we often suggest parents start giving them a ‘vitamin supplement,’ but even this is likely to set off Rei’s suspicions, don’t you think?” Ms. Akiyama had nodded agreement, “how do we get her to take the medicines then?” Stepping away from the stove, Ms. Akiyama checked the living room to make sure Rei wasn’t there, then walked up to the base of the stairs; Rei’s bedroom door was closed, meaning Rei was safely and obliviously inside. On her way back to the kitchen, she grabbed the white paper bag Brighter Days had sent her home with out of her purse. Back in the kitchen, she withdrew three glass bottles with droppers out of the bag, crumpled the latter, and tossed it in the trash. “Well,” Emma had sounded almost excited, “we actually have a brand new tool in our arsenal just for girls like Rei. We’ve formulated the medicines we use into tasteless, odorless liquids.” Ms. Akiyama filled a bowl with noodles and ladled the red sauce over it. “You’ll want to add three drops of each medication. The first is a minor muscle relaxer that is formulated to specifically target the bladder, making it just a little easier for her body to overcome her potty training.” Ms. Akiyama carefully counted out three drops of the first medication. “The second is a minor sleep agent to make sure she sleeps very deeply; this will help the induction take root. And finally, diuranuretine, which is the generic name for Tinklex, which I’m sure you’ll be familiar with from the commercials. This medicine will really seal the deal. Make sure you do not give her more than the prescribed dose, or you might be dealing with wet pants before you’re ready, okay?” Ms. Akiyama added the last medication with the care of a rocket scientist working with extremely volatile chemicals. She gave the top of the sauce a light stir to mix in the liquid, then held the bowl up to her nose; sure enough, she couldn’t smell a thing wrong with it. “Rei!” She called when everything was done and set on the table (and the bottles of medicine safely stowed in the very back of the spice cabinet), “dinner!” The two made polite small talk about their days as Ms. Akiyama watched her daughter eat the laced spaghetti. She felt a pang of guilt in her gut, but said nothing, even as Rei mopped up the last of her sauce with a piece of garlic bread. With dinner done, Rei excused herself from the table, citing having more homework that she had to attend to, and Ms. Akiyama didn’t see her again until she came out of her room a few hours later to announce that she was going to bed and wish her mother goodnight. An hour later, Ms. Akiyama crept up the stairs, the white noise machine in hand. “Rei?” She whispered as she cracked the door to her daughter’s bedroom, “Are you awake?” The only response was the sound of Rei’s long, deep breaths. Tiptoeing, Ms. Akiyama made her way across her daughter’s room, set the machine on her nightstand, found the outlet behind it, and plugged the machine in. “Don’t worry about hiding it,” Emma had said, “part of the standard induction package is to make the girls think it’s been there all along. After all, many people have trouble sleeping without white noise!” Low static filled the room, and Ms. Akiyama got out as quickly as she could.   Chapter Seventeen Rei’s head jerked up and a bit of panic rose in her chest. She was sitting in class and her professor was droning on about something she couldn’t quite force herself to pay attention to. She must have dozed off for a moment. In front of her, Jennifer Duffy scribbled notes with the crinkled waistband of her diaper sticking out at least two inches above the top of her skirt. Rei could remember when a girl Jennifer’s age would have been mortified to have their diaper showing, now it seemed to be a fashion statement. Speaking of, Rei had to pee. Slipping out of her chair, Rei quietly and quickly made her way to the door, trying to distract her fellow students as little as possible. “Rei?” Her professor stopped mid-lecture to call her out as she weaved between desks, “where are you going?” “Um, sorry, just going to the restroom,” Rei replied, squeezing between two desks that were particularly close together only to find the next two desks two close together to squeeze between, she turned and tried another direction. “And were you going to ask for permission?” The strap of a backpack tangled Rei’s foot and she almost went down, but caught herself on her professor’s desk, finding herself face to face with the man. She tried not to huff in frustration; most professors in college didn’t make students ask to use the restroom, Rei must have forgotten this one did. “May I go to the restroom?” She asked. “Absolutely not,” he replied, “just use your diaper and you can change after class.” Rei stared at him, slightly aghast. “Sir, I don’t wear diapers.” “No?” He looked at her confused, then let his eyes wander downward. He sighed, “well, if you truly must, you can use the restroom,” he reluctantly acquiesced before going back to his lecture. With relief, Rei turned to walk away from the desk, only to find her way blocked by Jennifer Duffy. “You can use one of mine,” she said, her tone helpful as she held up a bright white plastic rectangle of fluff. “Ew,” Rei sneered at the girl, pushed past her, and finally found herself in the hallway outside the classroom. Except…wait… “Where am I?” She didn’t recognize this hall, and it seemed to stretch out to the left and right infinitely. Where was the nearest bathroom? She chewed her lip and crossed her legs as she considered her options. Neither seeming more promising than the other, she picked right, and made her way down the hallway. The hallway was lined with doors on each side, and Rei glanced through the tiny windows in each door as she passed. Behind each one, a class was in progress. She stopped when she got to one that was clearly not a college class. About a dozen girls around Rei’s age dressed in juvenile clothing sat in a circle while a middle-aged woman in pencil skirt and blouse read to them from a picture book. Since when did her college offer elementary school classes? Slightly confused but mostly dismayed by this news, Rei continued down the hall. “Rei!” A voice came from behind her. Rei turned to find Riley running up to her. “Hey, Rei,” she said breathlessly as she caught up, “wanna go to the mall?” Rei chewed her lip and looked down the hall behind Riley, then back towards the way she was going. “Did you see a restroom that way?” She asked Riley. “No, why?” “I need to pee,” Rei responded matter-of-factly. Riley seemed to think for a moment, then grabbed Rei by the wrist and started dragging her down the hall back the way she had come, “I think I know where one is,” she called over her shoulder as she turned right down a hallway Rei would have sworn wasn’t there a moment ago. Riley dragged Rei through the unchanging hallways, turning left and right seemingly at random. Rei’s legs pumped hard to keep up with the other girl, and her need to pee became more desperate with each jarring step. “Here we go!” Riley stopped so suddenly Rei almost collided with her. “The bathroom!” She gestured to a small alcove where, sure enough, were two doorways: a men’s bathroom and a women’s. “Finally,” Rei said, pulling her wrist from Rei’s hand and pushing open the door to the women’s bathroom. Except, the room beyond wasn’t a bathroom at all. The long, narrow room had six adult sized changing tables, three on each side of the room. Two were currently in use; girl’s Rei’s age laid atop them while women in white nurse’s uniforms changed their diapers. “Hi,” a third nurse greeted them, “which one of you needs your diaper changed?” Rei just shook her head and slowly backed out of the room. “Rei?” Riley said, watching Rei as she backed up, “where are you going? Didn’t you need to be changed?” Cold sweat dripped down her forehead. Rei looked to her right, then made a break for the men’s room. As long as it had a toilet, she didn’t care. She burst through the door and into a typical bathroom. Sighing with relief, she dashed to one of the stalls and tugged the door open. Or tried to; it was stuck fast. “Rei?” Riley and the nurse had followed her in, and the former was smiling calmly at her, “come on, it’s okay. The nurse will take care of you.” “I don’t wear diapers!” Rei shouted, but even as she did she felt her bladder spasm and push a squirt of pee out into her panties. Her hands darted to her crotch and she pressed her legs together. “Uh oh,” the nurse said in the same tone of voice you’d use with a toddler in Rei’s predicament, “look like she’s about to have an accident.” “Go on, Rei,” Riley said encouragingly, “just let it go, then we can get you changed.” Rei shot up in bed, panting and covered in cold sweat. What a fucking dream. As her breathing slowed down, she became aware of how painfully full her bladder was. No wonder she had been dreaming about it. Throwing her covers off herself, Rei got out of bed and hobbled with her thighs pressed tightly together to the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom. Relief washed over her as she flopped down on the toilet, her bladder releasing the second she did. Her business done, Rei wiped, stood up, flushed the toilet, pulled her pants back up, and froze. Her panties were just slightly damp. She remembered starting to lose control in her dream and realized that must have been real. She didn’t need a mirror to know how bright red her cheeks got at this discovery. Gotta be more careful about what I drink before bed, Rei thought as she made her way back to her bedroom. The last thing she wanted was for her bedwetting to come back. Somewhere in her mind, she wondered if she should be more concerned about this; after all, this was the…what? Second? Third time this week? Or was it? She had the distinct feeling this wasn’t her first close call lately, but her mind was too foggy with sleepiness to mull it over sufficiently. Rei got back in bed, pulled the covers over her, snuggled into them, and let the gentle sound of falling raindrops from her white noise machine lull her back to sleep.

Funnily enough, I was just recently having a conversation with Altered States (whose work this world is based on) about how me being American and the political climate of America has shaped how I've interpreted his world building, and it really speaks to the role of dystopian literature in our lives. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it, but I certainly don't blame you if it becomes a little too on the nose to enjoy it! Thanks! I appreciate that! So, anyway, I'm working on a small side project: a soundtrack for this story XD just a fun little thing I'm putting together. I won't share it yet because some of the songs won't make sense or might give away the direction I'm going, but if you readers have any songs that you think fit the vibe of this story, I'd love to hear it! Of course, the namesake of this story is already on the list! XD New updates coming soon! I'm off work next week, so hopefully I'll get a lot of work on this story done!

Emma was a lot of fun to write. She was supposed to be a one-off character, but I think you'll be seeing her again 😉

It's my birthday and Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth just came out, but I'm still taking time to give you all an update. You're welcome XD This chapter was really fun to write, and I hope you all love it as much as I do! Chapter Fifteen Ms. Akiyama was having a very different afternoon. About the time Rei was first finding Riley on the patio, Ms. Akiyama was pulling her car into a spot directly into front of a colorful, three-story concrete building. The outside walls were a continuous mural of girls of various ages playing. There was a large, wooden privacy fence that extended out from one corner of the building before wrapping around and connecting at the corner diagonal from the first. As she stepped out of her car, Ms. Akiyama could hear the gentle cacophony of girls playing from the other side of the fence. A large neon sign hung on the façade of the building with “Brighter Days Academy” spelled out in a rainbow. A smaller, more professional sign hung below that read “Institute of Behavioral Therapy for Young Adult Girls.” Ms. Akiyama walked through the tinted glass front doors into an immaculate and brightly-lit lobby. There were a few plush chairs set around the perimeter of the room that looked as though they had never been sat in, and neat piles of uncrumpled magazines sat on end tables by the chairs. There were wooden doors with spotless silver door handles to Ms. Akiyama’s right and left, and a reception desk directly in front of her. The desk was occupied with a young woman who clearly was the most organized receptionist any office had ever seen. Everything on her desk was neatly laid out and organized, not a thing seemed out of place, and everything seemed to have a place. She sat behind the desk, back straight, in a white blouse that left her warm beige arms bare. Her smile crinkled the corners of her brown eyes and showed off pearlescent brilliant teeth. Her nails were short but well-manicured, and her black hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. “Akiko” was printed on a name tag that was pinned to her chest. “Hello, welcome to Brighter Days Academy,” she chirped brightly. “How may I help you today?” Ms. Akiyama smiled at the young girl, vaguely wondering if she was old enough to be working as a receptionist in the first place. “I had an appointment for a consultation? Under Hana Akiyama?” “Fantastic,” Akiko replied as she turned towards her computer and began typing rapidly. “Yes, I see that appointment in the system. Thank you so much for coming in today, Mrs. Akiyama; we’re very excited to meet you and your child’s needs!” “Oh, Ms. Akiyama,” Ms. Akiyama corrected. “Oh, I’m very sorry,” the girl turned towards the computer, hit a few keys, and turned back, “I’ve corrected that in our system so it won’t happen again. Now, I see that,” she glanced towards the screen, “Dr. Welles will be your consultant today. I think you’ll like her; she’s very brilliant and will definitely be able to help you. I’ve already notified Dr. Welles that you are here, so she should be with you soon. Might I get you something to drink while you wait?” “A water would be wonderful, Akiko,” Ms. Akiyama responded with a smile. The young girl was so bright and cheerful, it was contagious. Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but wish Rei could be more like that. “Excellent, I’ll—” Before Akiko could finish the sentence, the door on Ms. Akiyama’s right opened, and a fit woman with brown, curly hair wearing a white lab coat over a tight black dress emerged with a clipboard in her hand. “Ms. Akiyama, I presume?” “Oh, um, yes,” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but be caught off guard by their promptness. “Yes, that’s me.” One thing was certain about this place; it was efficient. “Are you Dr. Welles?” “Please,” the woman said, extending one arm to shake Ms. Akiyama’s hand, “call me Emma. If you’d like to follow me, we can get started!” The woman couldn’t match Akiko for bright and cheery (and who could?), but she was doing her hardest. “I’ll bring your water in to you,” Akiko said as Ms. Akiyama began following Emma Welles through the door. The door led to a short, carpeted hallway with walls adorned with what looked like the art projects of children of various ages and proficiencies. At the end, the hallway turned left, and Ms. Akiyama found herself staring down a much longer hallway with doors along each side. “This is really just the administrative wing,” Emma explained, “the real fun stuff happens through the left door. But still, we need offices to get some work done, right?” She said it with the cadence of a joke, but Ms. Akiyama wasn’t sure she got the joke. She chuckled politely anyway. “Thank you for coming in today,” Emma continued as she led Ms. Akiyama down the hall, “I’m always excited to help new clients get started on reaching their goals. And I’m sure you’ll find that we are well equipped to help you reach those goals, regardless of what they are.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama replied, “I’m not really sure what my goals are, yet…exactly…” “And that’s okay!” Emma exclaimed. “We can help you with that, too. Here we go,” Emma stopped at one of the many doors, swung the door inward, and gestured for Ms. Akiyama to go ahead. The office was darker than what Ms. Akiyama had seen of the rest of the building by far. In contrast to the bright white, fluorescent lights of the hallway and lobby, Emma Welles’ office was lit by a few table lamps and the natural light streaming through the tinted windows that spanned the wall across from the door. A large desk made of dark wood dominated the room, flanked by shelves absolutely brimming with books. “Please,” Emma said, gesturing to one of the two plush chairs in front of the desk as she made her way around the desk to sit at the high-backed leather chair behind it. Ms. Akiyama noticed there were three more chairs pressed against the wall: all wooden, hard-backed chairs that looked better for your posture than your comfort. “So, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma said as she settled in to her chair, “tell me about your daughter.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama started then stopped speaking for a long beat, trying to figure out where to begin. “What’s her name?” Emma prompted when Ms. Akiyama was coming up short. She was used to this from new clients; so many of them were just in so over their head that they needed to be guided by the hand. “Rei.” “What a pretty name,” Emma managed to keep it from sounding like a practiced response, “and how is she?” “She’s nineteen.” “Ah, what a magical age,” Emma smiled warmly and began typing on her laptop, recording Ms. Akiyama’s responses. “And I assume she is not emancipated?” “Correct.” “Excellent,” of course, it wasn’t truly a barrier since parents could revoke emancipation at any time for any reason, but Emma always liked to get any potential complications out of the way first. “Does she attend school?” “Yes, Greenham Community College.” Emma made a disapproving sound in her throat as she typed, “mm, that’s risky, you know. She could be getting exposed to all sorts of…problematic ideas there. I don’t want to make any official recommendations until we’ve talked about your goals, but I definitely recommend removing her from the college setting. Most girls Rei’s age can’t handle that kind of environmentl; they aren’t mature enough to make the right choices, you know?” Ms. Akiyama smiled awkwardly, “it’s just…she likes school, I feel bad taking it away.” “Oh!” Emma exclaimed, “well, that’s wonderful. We love a little girl who loves school; but there are a lot of healthier options that will be better for her and her development into a happy adult that we can explore, okay?” “Oh, well, okay,” Ms. Akiyama said uncertainly. “Don’t worry, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma reached across the desk and gave Ms. Akiyama’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “I’m here to help and guide you through this. I know it’s a lot and that it can sometimes seem hard to make these calls. So many of the clients I see come in and tell me that they feel like bad parents, but you know what I tell them?” “What?” “That just by walking through those doors they’ve shown me that they are a great parent,” Emma smiled reassuringly. “Just by walking through that door, they’ve shown how much they care about doing what is right for their daughter, and isn’t that what makes a great parent?” “I…I guess so…” Ms. Akiyama had to admit it did make sense. “I know how hard it is these days, Ms. Akiyama. Things are so different than when we were kids; the parenting lessons we learned from our parents just don’t apply anymore! Even the things we learned as parents don’t seem right anymore. I’m a mother myself, Ms. Akiyama; I know how it can feel like you’re lost and don’t know how to be a parent anymore. But you’re still that great parent you always were; you just need new tools to deal with new problems. Don’t worry, we’re here to give you those tools and teach you how to use them.” Yes, that was exactly what Ms. Akiyama needed. She nodded, feeling a sense of resolve; she was doing the right thing. “Thank you, Emma,” she said, sincerely, “you don’t know how hard I’ve fought with myself over the decision to come here today.” “Well, we’re glad you’re here, and, more importantly, you’re going to be glad you’re here. And most importantly? Rei is going to be glad you came here, I promise. This can often be a rough road, and especially if Rei is used to being in college, she’s likely to throw a temper tantrum or two, okay? But every girl I see come through here leaves happier, healthier, and better adjusted.” “It’s a relief to hear you say that.” “So,” Emma said, turning back to the matter at hand, “Rei is 19 and attends community college. Is she…willful?” Ms. Akiyama chuckled, “a little, yes; she can be very hard-headed and stubborn.” “Mmm, I see,” Emma typed for a moment, “and does she get good grades?” “Oh, yes! Like I said, she loves school. If anything, she studies too much.” “Mmm, yes, we see that a lot in girls like Rei,” though Emma didn’t say quite what she meant by ‘girls like Rei.’ “Does she have a father figure?” Ms. Akiyama shook her head, “her father died of cancer some years ago.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma gave her a consoling smile. “Any other guardian or caretaker figures in her life?” “No.” “Any behavioral problems?” “No…well, not really, but…” “Go ahead, Ms. Akiyama, you can tell me.” “I recently found out she was taking a gender studies course—” “Goodness!” “—and she lied about it too.” “Oh my,” Emma shook her head, “that’s troubling. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what kind of filth those classes fill young girls’ heads with. I simply don’t understand why they still allow them to be taught. I’m glad you came in when you did, Ms. Akiyama; it sounds like Rei is need of major intervention.” “Well,” Ms. Akiyama said nervously, “I don’t know about major. I was thinking more of…well, just something to curb her worse tendencies and make sure she stays out of trouble.” Emma turned away from the computer and fully towards Ms. Akiyama. “Let me ask you this: what are your goals for Rei? What do you want for her, ultimately?” Ms. Akiyama considered the question for a moment but gave the answer that had come to her immediately: “I just want her to be happy and safe.” “Girls like Rei have often already been exposed to ideas and radical leftist propaganda that can make it hard for them to be happy. Call it the legacy of so many years of misguided feminism. There are still some fringe elements pushing that feminist narrative, but we, as a culture, have moved past it, thank God. We know now that all the feminist dreck pushed by unhappy women was exactly what was making them unhappy; but some women refuse to accept that, and they push it on to young girls, girls like Rei, If you want Rei to be happy, you have to help her realize that all that stuff her college has put in her head is the reason she’ll never be happy. To put it bluntly, girls like Rei will never be happy until they accept their place in the world.” Before Ms. Akiyama could finish processing everything Emma had just said, there was a polite tapping at the door. “That must be Akiko with your water,” Emma said before calling out for the girl to come in. The door opened to admit Akiko, who Ms. Akiyama now saw was wearing brightly polished Mary Jane shoes, black knee socks, and a pleated black skirt that came to mid-thigh. She was carrying a small tray with a glass full of ice and a bottle of water that was sweating with condensation and walked with a bit of a waddle that explained the rustling Ms. Akiyama could hear from under the girls’ skirt. “Ms. Akiyama, your water,” she said as she set two coasters on the table before setting the glass and bottle of water down on top of them. Tucking the tray under her arm, she picked the bottle back up, cracked the seal, and poured it over the ice. “Is there anything else I may get for you, Ms. Akiyama?” “No, thank you so much.” “You are very welcome,” she beamed at Ms. Akiyama, then turned to Emma. “Dr. Welles, may I get you anything?” “No, thank you, Akiko, you may go,” Emma smiled as she watched the girl leave, then turned back to Ms. Akiyama. “Akiko is one of our students; she’s part of a work education program through her extended high school program. She’s a lovely girl.” “She seems so…happy,” Ms. Akiyama remarked, “I almost wish Rei were more like her,” she added giving voice to her earlier thoughts. “Rei can be,” Emma smiled, “after all, Brighter Days is responsible for molding Akiko into the girl she is today. It takes a lot of work though, Ms. Akiyama. You were saying you weren’t sure if you wanted to do any kind of major behavioral therapy for Rei, but I’ll caution you now that, based off what you’ve told me about Rei, she’s going to need more than just some minor adjustments to make sure she stays out of trouble.” Ms. Akiyama considered this for a moment. “What do you suggest?” she asked at last. “Well,” Emma leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, “as I already said, I think the first and most important step is getting her out of college.” Ms. Akiyama’s brow furrowed, “Rei won’t be happy about that.” “As I said, Ms. Akiyama, temper tantrums are just part of the process. Think of it this way: if she reacts poorly, that’s a sign that she’s not mature enough to handle herself.” “That…makes sense…” “And like I said, we love little girls that love school! We certainly don’t want to squash that love of learning and education; we just want to make sure it’s nurtured in a safe and healthy way that will help her grow up into a well-adjusted adult.” “Something like an extended high school program?” “Extended high school programs are really best for girls who are already on their way to growing up to be happy, healthy adult women. I recommend them most for girls whose parents are choosing to extend their teen years. It can also be a good starting point, a way to test the waters, if you will, for more drastic measures, or to see if they really are necessary in the first place. I’ll caution you, however, that this often isn’t enough for girls like Rei. If you really want to make sure she learns and more important accepts her place and grows up to be a healthy and happy adult, I highly recommend incorporating other behavioral therapies. In fact, in girls like Rei, we often see the problem behaviors become worse if you don’t use other behavioral therapies.” “Like what?” “Well,” Emma leaned forward in her chair, “potty training regression is certainly our most potent tool.” Ms. Akiyama nodded; she had expected this conversation to come up. She tried to picture Rei in a tshirt and diaper like Megan had been and just couldn’t muster the image. “I’m just…not sure about that…” “I understand, Ms. Akiyama, it seems drastic. But girls like Rei often need drastic measures.” “Rei is a good girl though, really,” Ms. Akiyama said. “She’s a little misguided right now, but she’s a good girl.” Emma gave her best reassuring smile, but she couldn’t keep all of the condescension out of it. “With respect, Ms. Akiyama, we here at Brighter Days have a lot of experience in these matters, and we’ve found that potty training regression is the backbone to any behavioral therapy treatment. While it’s true that it was once considered a radical technique, it’s not considered quite mainstream! Really, it is! Over 80% of young girls ages eighteen to twenty-eight wear pull-ups or diapers. Here, see for yourself.” Emma reached into her desk and produced a glossy pamphlet that she slid across the table. Ms. Akiyama picked the pamphlet up: the cover featured a girl in her early twenties whose body language spoke of a desperate need to pee and a older looking woman standing behind her with a knowing smile. The pamphlet was titled “Fast Facts About Potty Training Regression Therapy.” “To be honest, Emma,” Ms. Akiyama said, setting the pamphlet back on the desk, “I just don’t get it. It’s really only been lately that I’ve even considered any kind of…regressive behavioral therapy for Rei; I never quite understood why other parents thought it was good for their children. I think I’m finally starting to see the benefits of this kind of therapy, but…” Ms. Akiyama sighed and shook her head, “I just don’t understand why it’s necessary to put Rei…back in diapers.” Emma nodded understandingly, “Believe it or not, many of our clients have only recently begun to think about this therapy, and many express that same sentiment. You see, the whole reason we see so many behavioral problems in girls in the eighteen to twenty-eight range is that they still see themselves as adults. They have notions of independence and freedom that girls their age simply aren’t ready for. That’s why they are so susceptible to all the feminist drivel we were talking about earlier, right?” She chuckled dismissively. “So, you see, potty training regression is a way of kind of…dissuading them from such ideas. It’s hard to think you’re an adult who is ready to make decisions for themselves when you can’t keep your pants dry; I mean, just imagine that. Of course, that’s just the main benefit, there are numerous other benefits as well. For example, potty training regression strengthens the bond between mother and daughter by creating a feeling of dependency, and being reliant on mom for diaper changes can minimize time spent away from home. Not to mention, it discourages intimate behavior with boys.” Ms. Akiyama had picked up the pamphlet again and was scanning over the pages of the pamphlet as Emma spoke. What she was saying made sense, but…could she really do this? “I don’t know,” Ms. Akiyama set the pamphlet down again and looked at the woman across from her. “I guess this is a silly question but…is it…permanent?” “Oh, no, of course not,” Emma waved her the very notion of the idea away with her hand. “Once a girl is old enough and ready for it, she can always be re-potty trained. Of course,” Emma laughed, “some girls do have more problems with re-potty training than others, but that’s no different than the first time.” Ms. Akiyama smiled fondly and laughed lightly, suddenly she was a mom just gossiping about her kinds to another mom. “Rei was such a hassle to potty train; she’d die if anyone knew, but she was accident prone until she was 12 and wet the bed until she was 15.” Emma giggled and nodded, “that’s actually excellent news! Girls who were late potty trainers and/or bedwetters tend to be more susceptible to potty training regression. It suggests you will have excellent results!” Ms. Akiyama’s smile faded and she sighed. She was silent for a long moment; Emma recognized that thoughtful look from countless clients before Ms. Akiyama and gave the woman time to think. “Let’s say,” she said finally, “that I was actually considering doing this, and, really, that’s all I’m doing right now, how…how does it even work?” Emma grinned from ear to ear. “Well, Ms. Akiyama, we have so many tools and resources to help you with this process. And it is a process! While most of our clients see results within the first thirty days of starting therapy, you can’t expect results overnight. With the proper tools and strategies, most girls do see regression fairly quickly, but for some girls that first accident can take weeks. More importantly, the process is unique for each girl. For example, for some girls its enough just to put them in pull-ups and inevitably they give in themselves; that, of course, is not the kind of girl Rei is. For girls like Rei, it’s best to start with inducing accidents, making her doubt her own potty training, and leading her to pull-ups or even diapers from there.” “But…inducing accidents? How do you even start to do that?” “Well, if you decide to buy a therapy package from us, we will individualize a plan for Rei that will include a mix of methods, mostly likely including some medicines that will help loosen up her bladder, white noise induction machines for bedtime that will encourage bedwetting, a regiment of diuretics, and actionable plans to keep her distracted from using the toilet. If we couple this with enrollment at an extended high school program, we can write doctor’s notes instructing teachers to reinforce the therapy through prohibiting restroom breaks during class and other such strategies.” And that brought them to the question Ms. Akiyama had been dreading, “and, uh, how much do these therapy packages cost?” Emma smiled warmly, “there’s a misconception that these kinds of individualized behavioral therapy programs are expensive, and that’s because, well, that used to be the case! But the fact is, insurance companies are actually required to cover regressive behavioral therapy under the Hayes Act! You’ll pay a small copay depending on your insurance, and any prescription drugs we prescribe as part of your therapy plan will be covered as per any prescription. Of course, that is not to say there aren’t some financial burdens to this kind of therapy. For example, insurance companies usually do not cover things like new furniture for Rei’s new lifestyle and most other supplies you’ll likely need.” “Furniture?” “Oh, yes, you know, things like playpens, cribs, changing tables.” Ms. Akiyama shook her head, “well, I don’t think Rei will be needing any of that.” “Mm, of course not, but it’s good to know what’s covered and what’s not, just in case you decide to change your mind. And as for the other supplies, while insurance doesn’t cover things like bottles, sippy-cups, or pull-ups or diapers, we at Brighter Days partner with many manufacturers to offer starter packs and discounts on regular purchases. We can even sign you up for a delivery service that will keep you and Rei stocked in pull-ups or diapers. Or a mix of both!” Ms. Akiyama sighed, “I don’t know, this is a lot, isn’t it?” “It is,” Emma leaned forward in her chair and gave Ms. Akiyama a sympathetic look, “and that’s why we are here to help.” “I’m just not sure that Rei needs all of this…” “This can be a difficult decision for many parents, Ms. Akiyama, but keep in mind that the longer you wait, the more drastic the measures you may have to take.” Emma let that sink if for a minute, then continued, “Ms. Akiyama, may I make a suggestion?” A little hope flickered in Ms. Akiyama’s eyes amidst the confusion, “yes, please, I just…don’t even know where to start.” “That’s natural, Ms. Akiyama,” Emma said as she reached into her desk and pulled out a thick three-ring binder, “and that’s why so many parents come to us. This may all be very new and overwhelming for you, but we here at Brighter Days have seen it all and been through it so many times with children of various levels of resistance to this kind of therapy; we’re experts! You may not know where to begin, Ms. Akiyama, but we do.” She gave Ms. Akiyama her biggest, most confident smile and opened the binder to exact page she wanted (it was one of her most frequently used selling points, after all, so why not have it marked?). The top of the glossy page read “So, you’ve decided you want a daughter who wets the bed.” “Bedwetting?” Ms. Akiyama asked. “Bedwetting.” Emma replied confidently. “This is an excellent starting point, Ms. Akiyama. It can be perfect for minor attitude adjustments; so, if you’re right and Rei just needs a little push in the right direction, this might be all you need to get her there! It doesn’t impact her life outside of bedtime, still allows her to be independent and feel like ‘big girl,’ but still gives her that little bit of a nudge towards being the obedient daughter you are looking for! And if the worst case scenario happens and Rei needs a little stronger push, this establishes the foundation for further behavioral therapy perfectly.” “I suppose…I suppose that does make sense,” Ms. Akiyama replied after a moment of thought. She sighed. “I guess…my biggest reservation is that I’m still not sure how this all works. It’s not like she doesn’t know that this kind of…therapy exists, won’t she immediately suspect what I’m up to when she walks up one morning to find she’s wet the bed?” Emma smiled reassuringly, “that’s a concern many parents have. That’s one of the reasons why for so many girls, it’s best to introduce diapers and let the girls come to using them on their own. But as I’ve said, we’ve dealt with girls of varying levels of resistance to therapy; that’s why each plan is individualized for each girl, so that we can figure out ways to keep them from suspecting anything until it’s too late!” Ms. Akiyama shifted in her seat a little, slightly uncomfortable with the ‘until it’s too late’ part, but…who was she kidding? The phrasing might be blunt, but it wasn’t incorrect. “Thankfully,” Emma continued, seemingly unaware of Ms. Akiyama’s temporary discomfort, “with Rei, we have a perfect, shall we say, alibi for you.” “We do?” Emma nodded, “After all, didn’t you say Rei wet the bed until she was fifteen? It’s certainly not inconceivable that she return to that little bad habit, don’t you think?” Emma got a mischievous smile, “It’s especially common in girls who are dealing with all the pressure and demands of college. Of course, you’ll have to do your part to sell her on it, but we can include it as part of her nighttime induction to make it easy for you.” “You mentioned this…nighttime induction earlier. What is it?” “Oh!” Emma reached into another drawer and brought out a small, white plastic appliance, about the size of a digital alarm clock. “The first night you start treatment, you’ll put this in her room, plug it in,” she swivel in her chair a bit to plug it into an outlet behind her desk, “and turn it on,” she pressed a button and a sound like falling rain filled the room, “and it will play this white noise. However, while what you are listening to right now is, I assure you, just harmless static, Rei’s will have subaudible suggestive inductions playing underneath the static to help plant ideas in her head.” “Subaudible suggestive inductions? Like…hypnosis?” “Well,” Emma replied, smiling with a hint of condescension, “it’s not dissimilar from hypnosis, but hypnosis is, well…it can be effective, sure, but its powers are very limited compared to what most people believe. For example, no amount of hypnosis can truly affect a sleeping person; contrary to popular belief, a person must be conscious and capable of hearing hypnosis in order for it to work. Subaudible suggestive induction is a patented technology perfected by Brighter Days scientists that can do everything hypnosis can, but better and without the patient ever knowing. The downside is that, like the name implies, it’s just a suggestion, so we must reinforce it while the patient is awake in order to cement the idea in place. Here,” Emma pulled a brochure out of the top drawer of her desk and handed it to Ms. Akiyama, “you can read all about it in this, but the bottom line is that it’s completely safe and very effective.” Ms. Akiyama took the brochure and glanced over it for a moment before putting it on the desk. “Is all of this…reversible?” “Oh, yes! Behavioral therapy targets cognition, not the physical body, so it is very reversible. However, that is not to say the body isn’t affected; once girls stop using those muscles that keep them from having accidents, those muscles tend to start to weaken, hence why re-potty training is necessary. That said, when a girl only experiences potty-training regression in the form of bedwetting, it typically only takes two or three weeks for the bedwetting to clear up once treatment has stopped. Of course,” Emma added, “as I said, how easy a girl was to potty train the first time remains a good predictor of how quickly they’ll recover, so, for Rei, it might be a couple months, but it will definitely clear up eventually.” “Does anyone ever…not recover?” This was one of Emma’s least favorite questions to answer, but she smiled and did her best, “Well, Ms. Akiyama, the truth is that, yes, some girls never quite recover their potty training. But I assure you, the number of girls who are unable to fully re-potty train is really, truly statistically insignificant, and our behavioral scientists believe these cases to be more related to an emotional or cognitive resistance to re-potty training rather than a physical inability. That is to say, some girls don’t seem to even want to re-potty train!” Emma’s laugh was a little forced. “I don’t know…” Ms. Akiyama sighed. She thought back to when Rei was still wetting the bed. It had been a huge source of embarrassment for the girl, especially in the later years when regressive behavioral therapy started becoming mainstream. She had been so happy and relieved when she finally stopped. Could Ms. Akiyama really do that to her again? But, then again, if it could keep her from filling her head with all sorts of impossible ideas that would prevent her from finding happiness in this new world or, God forbid, falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in serious trouble… And after all, Rei may have been embarrassed by her bedwetting, but she was still able to live a normal life outside of that, just like Emma had said. And that was when most of her peers didn’t wet the bed, technically Rei was in the minority for not wetting the bed now. Ms. Akiyama took a deep breath and nodded, “okay, let’s do this.” Emma grinned, “I think that’s an excellent decision, Ms. Akiyama. Now, let’s talk details and make an action plan. Because each induction machine must be program specifically for each child, you won’t be able to get started until tomorrow, but I’m confident you’ll be changing Rei’s wet sheets before the weekend is over.”

It's an interesting setting! I have a feeling this won't be the only story I write in this setting because there are a lot of other kinds of stories to explore in this universe. And don't worry, this will get smutty. Ah, gotcha! Thanks for the explanation! Alright, kiddos. I really do apologize for taking such a long hiatus from this story. I've been very busy with work and, honestly, I'm going through some shitty things in my rl. I had originally really wanted to do weekly updates, but, at least for right now, I'm not sure I can promise that. BUT! Don't worry, however long I go between updates, I will definitely not be abandoning this story. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you find it worth the wait! But, alright. Here we go. Neeeewwwwwwww chapters; go! Chapter Twelve Rei thought about texting Riley that morning; she had wanted to text Riley, but she thought it prudent not to—that is, the questions she wanted to ask Riley were not questions she wanted a record of asking. So, instead, Rei sought out Riley at lunch. She wasn’t even sure Riley would be there, but most students at her school had the same schedule Monday and Wednesday, so it was safe to assume Riley would be having lunch around the same time the two had run into each other earlier in the week. And, as predicted, she found her easily enough. Riley was sitting alone on one of the patio tables in the farthest corner. The day was warmer than it had been for the past two weeks, but still chilly enough to keep most of the student body off the patio and inside. Riley sat on the black crisscross tabletop with her cafeteria tray of food next to her and her combat boots on the attached bench. Her mop of curly blue hair was free today, and she wore an oversized black and red knit cardigan over a band shirt at least three sizes too big tucked into a black pencil skirt over fishnets. She sat facing perpendicular to the direction from which Rei approached, giving the latter plenty of time to admire the former as she approached. And admire she did. Riley was so different from the other girls; she oozed maturity and a sort of effortless cool. Riley was confident, sure of herself, in a world that pressured her to be anything but that. Rei couldn’t explain it, but she found herself craving Riley’s approval. Rei found herself getting nervous as she approached; she was self-conscious of her light pink blouse and black maxi skirt, worried that Riley would find it childish or immature or just…not cool. That’s what it came down to: Rei desperately wanted Riley to think she was cool. “Uh, hey,” Rei said, off to a great start. Riley turned towards the girl and grinned, “hey, Rei, what’s up?” She slid down from table to sit on the bench itself, albeit backwards, and gestured for Rei to sit next to her. “I see you went for the chicken tenders today too,” Riley said lightheartedly, gesturing to a half-eaten plate of the same on her tray. Rei laughed, a little nervously, “yeah,” she said, and immediately had nothing else to say as she slid on to the bench next to Riley. “You okay?” Riley asked, sensing some tension in the other girl. “I don’t know, are we?” Riley sucked her teeth. “You worried about what happened with Melanie and Josie?” Rei nodded. “They are solid; they won’t give up any names.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah,” Riley said without hesitation. “Look,” she added a beat later, “I know it’s scary, but…we all knew what we were getting into, yeah? Melanie and Josie certainly did, and they were ready to accept those consequences. They aren’t going to give up any information that might hurt any of us or the group, okay?” Riley was only mostly certain of what she was saying, but she needed to sound confident to put Rei at ease. Rei getting worked up and worrying wouldn’t help anyone, and, besides, Riley felt a sort of instinct to protect the younger girl. Riley was, after all, the apparent leader of the group. “Thanks, Riley,” Rei said after she had digested the other girl’s words for a moment. “That makes me feel a little better.” “And, hey, look, if you ever feel like you are in over your head, no one will judge you if you want out, you know that, right?” Riley wanted Rei to stay with the group, it gave Riley a reason to keep talking to her, but it was important to her that Rei knew no one was forcing her to stay. Riley was already in to deep, but it wasn’t too late for Rei. Rei took a bite of one of her chicken tenders and chewed slowly. She was scared, of course she was scared, but she was just as scared of what would happen to the world if girls like her and groups like Rebel stopped fighting back. And then there was the simple fact that she didn’t want to let Riley down. She didn’t want to let any of her fellow Rebels down, for that matter. “So,” Rei said after a long moment, “what’s the next job going to be anyway?” Riley snorted laughter. “I don’t know yet,” she said when her laughter died down, “but…probably something smaller. We need to lay low for a bit, I think.” Rei nodded, embarrassed by how relieved she felt to hear that. “I don’t know,” Riley continued, “just check your burner every Friday, like usual; we’ll probably announce the next meeting soon.” The two sat in silence for a long moment after that, Rei picking at her food while Riley stared off across the lake behind their campus. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it wasn’t, exactly, a comfortable silence either. Rei was desperately searching her brain for something to say the whole time, but it was Riley who finally broke the silence. “So, how are things with your mom?” And it was the topic Rei least wanted to talk about. She shrugged, “She hasn’t really mentioned what happened, but she did pull me out of that class.” A second shrug, “I guess I’m just lucky she let me stay in college at all.” “You really think she might put you in one of those extended high school programs?” “I don’t know,” Rei replied honestly, “I wouldn’t have thought so at one point, but…then Monday night happened, and…” she trailed off. “And now everything seems topsy turvy?” Riley picked up the thought, and Rei nodded in agreement. “You don’t think she’d…do…ya know, anything else, do you?” Rei blushed at even the thought of what Riley might be referring to. “God, no, mom thinks all that stuff is like…kinda weird.” “More than kinda,” Riley interjected. “So, I don’t think she’d ever go that far, thankfully.” “Well, hey, you know, if you do get sent off to one of those extended high school programs, I mean…you know, you’ve got my number, so we can still be friends.” Riley was trying desperately to sound nonchalant, like it didn’t matter that much to her, but she was terrified her new friend would one day disappear without warning and she wanted, no, needed the other girl to know she could still reach out. “Yeah?” Rei asked, trying to hide how excited she was that Riley had said they were friends, and more so at the implication that Riley wanted to continue being friends even if Rei could no longer attend college. “I’d…really like that.” “Sure, of course,” Riley smiled. “Besides, you can brag to all your new high school friends that you have a friend in college.” Rei couldn’t help but laugh; it was exactly the kind of thing the popular girls at her high school would have bragged about. It was probably an even bigger brag these days. “What kind of classes do they teach in those programs anyway?” Riley asked. “I mean, I know it’s basically housewife training, but is that it?” Rei shrugged; she hadn’t really looked into it much. “I think it’s like…cooking classes and stuff like that. Probably a whole semester on how to get stains out of different fabrics. Probably child raising classes, as if I would ever want to have children.” Riley pulled out her phone while Rei was still talking about began tapping furiously on the screen. “Well, I don’t know about a whole semester on getting stains out, but you’re partially right; it’s a lot of like home ec kind of classes. But they do also have continuing education in the core subjects like Math, English, History, and Science, and other electives.” “Wait, really?” Rei was surprised. She had genuinely thought it was just to get you ready to be a housewife. “Yeah, this website says ‘extended high school programs are designed to give your daughter a high-quality, college-level education free from the radical leftist bias prevalent in so many colleges and universities’” she read off the screen of her phone, then added, “Kinda creepy, if you ask me.” “Why creepy?” “Like, they act like colleges and universities are brainwashing us to be leftist radicals, but can you honestly tell me this isn’t its own form of brainwashing? Raising girls who can’t and won’t question their own infantilization, oppression, and marginalization? That’s all these schools do. ‘High-quality, college-level’ my ass. I’ll tell you what it is,” Riley shifted on the bench to face Rei directly, “it’s just a reflection of the anti-intellectualism this whole bullshit movement has been built on, ya know? They have their whole “facts over feelings” mantra, but it’s a façade, because in reality, in truth, the facts don’t back up what they say, so they change the facts, change the narrative, and say anything that says otherwise is biased. It’s fucked up. It’s downright sinister, ya know?” “You’re right,” Rei agreed enthusiastically, “God, I wish I could get my mom to understand that. She thinks the education I want to get is political, but you’re right, it’s only political because people who don’t like the conclusions it teaches have made it political!” “Damn right, girl,” Riley encouraged the younger girl. “I just…” Rei sighed, losing her momentum, “I just wish she could see that.” “I wish a lot of people could see that,” Riley responded, faint frustrating in her voice. “You wanna get out of here?” She asked suddenly. “Wait, what do you mean?” “I mean, let’s blow off afternoon classes, go do something fun.” Rei laughed nervously; was Riley joking? “I…I can’t skip class.” “Why not? It won’t hurt to miss a class. Besides, this time next week you could be at an extended high school program, so who cares?” Rei internally flinched at Riley’s jab or joke or whatever it was. She had a point, but it was a point Rei didn’t like having pointed out. “Sorry,” Riley said, picking up on the girl’s lackluster reaction. “It’s just…I don’t know, I feel restless, I guess.” And I want to spend more time with you, Riley thought but didn’t say. Rei chewed her bottom lip, tempted to go, but certain her mother would somehow find out. Wait, that was a good question, did colleges report when you were absent like high schools did? Once upon a time, she would have assumed not, but now it was anyone’s guess, especially for students who were still minors. “I…really don’t want to miss class…” Rei said at least, more than a little regretful. “Look, if you’re worried about your mom finding out,” Riley said, as if she could read the other girl’s mind, “then just go to class, excuse yourself to the restroom after attendance, and, poof, you’re gone.” “Won’t they notice me taking all my stuff to the restroom?” Riley shrugged, “leave your stuff with me.” Rei’s stomach was full of butterflies. She had never skipped class, not even in high school. But here was Riley, who she desperately wanted to think she was cool, inviting her to skip class and go hang out. Rei glanced at her phone screen; her afternoon class started in thirty minutes, she had to decide soon. “Come on,” Riley coaxed, “it’ll be fun.” “What would we even do?” Riley shrugged, “hang out, chill, maybe go to the mall? I don’t know, anything is better than being here today, if you ask me.” Rei took a deep breath, then laughed nervously. “Okay,” she said, “let’s do it.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “Come on then,” without a moment of hesitation, Riley grabbed Rei’s wrist and ran off giggling, pulling the other girl behind her and leaving their discarded lunch trays behind. Chapter Thirteen Riley sipped on her lemonade and handed Rei the last bite of the pretzel they were splitting. “Aliens,” Riley said. Rei laughed and popped the last piece of pretzel in her mouth, chewing while she thought out her reply. “Probably real,” she said once she had swallowed, “well, almost certainly real, but only probably have visited Earth before.” “Probably isn’t the game,” Riley shot back, “do you personally think they have?” Rei took a sip of her own lemonade and pondered the question. “Mmm, yes, but I don’t think they’ve abducted people.” “You think they just like…observe?” “Yeah! Like scientists, ya know? Observing wildlife in its natural habitat.” “So that’s what we are to them?” “Probably!” Rei giggled at the thought. The mall food court was nearly empty on this weekday afternoon, but a few tables were occupied throughout the mass of them. Rei couldn’t help but keep looking over at a mother a few tables away spoon-feeding her daughter, who seemed to fall into helpless giggles every time her mother flew an airplane her way. Rei wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have gone to high school with the girl. “What do you think the aliens think of all that?” Riley said, noticing the trajectory of Rei’s distant stare. Rei didn’t answer immediately; she was considering the scene in front of her, trying to assess it like an alien who didn’t quite understand the cultural history that had led to this tableau. As Rei watched, the girl in the oversized highchair stopped giggling and scrunched up her face. For a moment, Rei wasn’t sure what she was watching, but it only took her a moment to figure it out: the girl was filling her diaper. Rei’s soul wretched a little, and she forced herself to turn away. “Um, how about ghosts?” she asked Riley, ignoring the other girl’s previous question. “Oh, definitely real,” Riley said, easily rolling with Rei’s change of subject. “But I don’t think most of them can, like, hurt or affect us. Hell, maybe none of them can.” Rei chuckled, “I thought I saw a ghost once when I was a kid.” “Tell me everything.” Rei felt her cheeks heat up; she normally didn’t tell anyone this story out of fear of being made fun of. She studied Riley’s face, trying to determine if Riley was baiting her into telling an embarrassing story or if she was genuinely interested. Riley seemed nothing but the latter. “Well,” she began, tentatively, “I mean, first of all, you have to understand, I was like seven at the time.” “Uh huh,” Riley nodded and gently encouraged Rei to continue. “And it was like shortly after my grandmother died.” “And then you saw her ghost?” Rei blushed but nodded. “I woke up one night in the middle of the night…something like two or three AM, and I think I went downstairs to get a glass of water or something. Like, I went downstairs, but I don’t remember what for.” Riley was nodding along as she listened. “And…sorry, this isn’t, like, an exciting story or anything.” “No, no, go on!” Riley urged. “Well, I went downstairs and…well, the first thing I noticed was the all the kitchen cabinets were just standing open.” “Oh, creepy,” Riley replied. “Yeah! And then like, I saw her just…sitting at the dining room table.” “You’re sure it was her?” “Definitely! I…” Rei blushed, “well, it scared me so bad I went running upstairs, crying the whole way, and jumped in bed with my parents.” “Wait, but how was that scary?” Riley asked incredulously. “I don’t know!” Rei laughed and threw up her hands, “I was like seven and I just saw a ghost! What about you, have you ever seen a ghost?” Riley smiled and shrugged, “nah. Some friends and I once tried to do a séance in a graveyard when I was in high school, had a Ouija board and everything, but all we saw was some cops that chased us off.” “Maybe you should try again one night.” “Oh yeah? What, you wanna join me?” “Maybe,” Rei said coyly. Riley grinned, “yeah, whatever, you’d probably scream and run away the moment we heard a noise or something.” “I was seven!” Rei cried in her defense. “I’d totally be brave enough now.” “I’m pretty sure I do still have that Ouija board…” “I’m serious! I’d totally do it.” “Alright,” Riley replied, sounding a bit smug, “but don’t complain when I drag you out to a graveyard one night to summon spirits.” “I can handle it,” Rei insisted. She took another sip of her lemonade, sucking up the last little bits, and leaned back in her chair, looking out over the food court again. The mother and her daughter had left; Rei could guess where they had gone off to easily enough. “Wanna go check out some stores?” Riley said after it was clear the conversation was in a lull. “What time do you need to be home by?” Rei looked at her phone, “not for another hour or so,” she replied. “Where’d you have in mind?” Riley looked at Rei for a moment, studying her face, before speaking, “you ever think about how good you’d like in eyeliner? We could go shopping for some make-up for you.” Rei let out a single sarcastic syllable of a laugh. “Yeah right, mom would kill me. She’s always been against me wearing make-up.” “So? She doesn’t have to know. Put it on in the school bathroom at the beginning of the day and take it off before you go home.” Rei chewed her lip a little embarrassedly, “and then there’s the fact that I have no idea how to put any kind of make-up on.” “Wait, really?” “Really! I told you, mom was always against it, she never taught me. Hell, she doesn’t really wear make-up either.” “Okay, well, we definitely need to fix that, okay?” Rei didn’t have time to respond; Riley jumped up from the table, grabbed their trash, and walked off with it, giving Rei the option of either staying behind or following. She caught up to Riley just as she was dumping their trash. “Come on,” she grabbed Rei’s hand and started leading her through the mall without needing to consult a map. A few moments later, the pair approached a store Rei had passed before, but had never entered: Sephora. The storefront was not huge, but it was bigger than Rei imagined was needed just to sell make-up, a thought that demonstrated just how clueless Rei was when it came to cosmetics. “Hold on there, girls,” a stern voice stopped the pair in their tracks as they approached the doorway. An older woman with crow’s feet creasing the pale ivory of her skin wearing a beige skirt suit with white high heels approached the pair, stopping directly in their path with her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry, unattended children are not allowed in this store. You’ll have to come back with your parents.” Riley made a noise that was halfway between annoyed and disgusted as she fished her wallet out of her purse and flipped it open, “I’m emancipated, okay?” The woman raised her eyebrow at Riley, studied the ID being held out in front of her, and sighed. “Fine, but what about her?” “She’s with me,” Riley replied. “No unaccompanied children,” the woman shot back. “What the fuck?” Riley exclaimed, making the older woman visibly flinch at the profanity. “I’m an adult, so I’m accompanying her!” “Are you her parent?” The altercation was beginning to draw on-lookers and rubber-neckers. Rei could feel them staring at her, and, worse, she couldn’t tell if they were sympathetic or accusatory stares. “You just said she had to be accompanied; you didn’t say anything about a parent!” Riley loudly insisted. “Well, I am now,” more store employees were making their way to the front of the store now, flanking the older woman who Rei assumed was in a managerial position over the less formally dressed workers with nametags on their shirts. “And quite frankly, young lady, emancipated or not, I’m not so sure I want you in my store if this is the way you conduct yourself.” Rei was standing a foot behind Riley, blushing and holding back tears as Riley and this stranger debated over her like…well…like she was a child. Her reaction to it only made her feel more childish, but she couldn’t help how hot her cheeks were burning under the gaze of the audience and the judgement of this woman. “This is fucked up,” Riley growled, “just let us in, okay?” “Watch your language, young lady, or I’ll—” “You’ll what? Tell my mom? I told you, lady, I’m emancipated, bitch.” The older lady furrowed her brow hard, “I won’t ask you again. If you insist on being vulgar, I’ll call security and have them check just how authentic that emancipation card is.” Riley stared the woman down for a long moment, her jaw clenched and eyes on fire, “are you seriously accusing me of having a fake emancipation card?” The woman just smirked in response, “there’s a Forever 15 down that way,” the lady pointed the way they came, “and a Justice and a Claire’s that way,” she pointed in the opposite direction. “I’m sure you’ll find them better suited to…clientele such as yourself.” “Go ahead,” Riley planted her feet and crossed her arms in mimicry of the older woman, “call security. They’ll confirm my ID is real and you’ll have to let us shop here.” “Riley?” Rei managed to quietly croak out from her tightening throat. Neither woman seemed to notice her. “And what do you think is going to happen to your little friend, hm?” The lady responded smugly. “You may be emancipated, but she’s a minor; do you think her parents will be happy to pick her up from mall security?” That clearly caught Riley off guard, her anger dropping for just a second before it came roaring back in defense of her friend, “just…fuck you, okay?” It was just too bad all of that anger was impotent, and Riley knew it. “Come on, let’s go find some place to shop where the employees aren’t all fucking cunts.” Then Riley turned on her heel and stomped off. Rei gave the older lady, who was positively fuming, an apologetic look, not because she felt bad about what Riley had said, but just…well, she wasn’t sure why. Then she hurried to follow after Riley. “I can’t believe that bitch,” Riley muttered when Rei had caught up to her. “We’ll find another store, okay?” “Hey, Riley?” “There’s like three other make-up stores in this mall, okay? Not all of them will be staffed by conservative old bitches.” “Yeah, but…” “I can’t believe she threatened to call security, what a bitch move.” “Hey, Riley, stop,” Rei reached out and grabbed Riley’s upper arm to get her attention. “Please, can we just go?” Riley turned to face Rei, and all the anger immediately went out of her. Rei was close to trembling, and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Shit,” Riley said quietly, pulling Rei into a hug. “I’m sorry; I didn’t even think about how that affected you.” “It’s okay,” Rei hugged Riley back, burying her face in the soft fabric of Riley’s cardigan. “But…please, I just want to go home, okay?” “Yeah,” Riley said softly, “we’ll get you home.” Chapter Fourteen “So, is this your mom’s car?” Rei asked as they cruised down the street, wind whipping in through the open windows. Rei’s hair was put up in a messy bun to keep it from tangling; meanwhile, Riley’s hair whipped haphazardly around her face. “Nah,” Riley answered, “it’s mine.” “Oh, that’s really cool,” Rei couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She didn’t even have her driver’s license anymore; under the Hayes Act, minor girls couldn’t have licenses. It was just one of the many perks of being emancipated. “Yeah, well, you know the grandfather clause in the Hayes Act?” Rei nodded. In a true grandfather clause, everyone who had already reached the age of majority would have stayed an adult; Rei would have stayed an adult. But the grandfather clause of the Hayes Act was…well…not quite so comprehensive. Girls who were twenty-four or older at the time of passage got to remain an adult; likewise, any girls who owned property in value of at least fifteen-thousand dollars got to remain an adult. “Well, after the Hayes Act got passed and my mom emancipated me, she thought that me owning property might be a layer of protection if they ever tightened the laws or something, you know? So, it was really important to her that I own my own car.” Rei chuckled, “it’s still pretty cool.” “Yeah,” Riley laughed, “I guess I just…sometimes I feel bad. I’m really lucky to have a mom like mine; I’m really lucky to be emancipated and stuff, and it makes me feel…guilty that other people don’t have that,” she glanced over to Rei. “Does that make sense?” It did make sense. Rei would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little jealous of Riley. And, yes, in part she was jealous because Riley was pretty and confident and effortlessly cool; but she was also jealous that Riley didn’t have to worry about getting moved to an extended high school program. Riley didn’t have to worry about getting spanked. Riley didn’t have to worry about any of the things Rei had suddenly found herself worried about. But that wasn’t Riley’s fault. Rei shrugged, “I get it, but, like…you shouldn’t feel bad or guilty. Like, you of all people, you know? You are using those privileges to help girls that don’t have them. And don’t get me wrong, like, you shouldn’t feel bad or guilty no matter what, ‘cause it’s not your fault, but I’m saying especially because of what you do to try to help people who don’t have those privileges? It’s really impressive, you know? I kind of look up to you, if I’m being honest.” “It’s not that impressive,” Riley waved her hand dismissively, “And certainly nothing to be admired for. But…what you’re saying makes sense. It’s just…” Riley stared at the road for a long moment before continuing, “I don’t think it can be logicked away; I don’t think it’s based in logic. And maybe Rebel is all just my attempt at soothing my guilt over it all. And, then there’s…” Riley sighed. “Well, nevermind that.” “No, what? You can tell me.” There had been a shift in the atmosphere of the car. Rei no longer found herself looking at confident, effortlessly cool Riley, founder of Rebel, she was looking at vulnerable, honest Riley, a girl who was as scared as everyone else. The significance of Riley letting her in like this wasn’t lost on Rei. “We’re friends, right?” And then there’s the fact that Riley was terrified of facing the consequences of her actions with Rebel. That was what Riley was going to say. That Rebel was a lot more fun when it was just her and a few others committing acts of vandalism, theft, and destruction of property. And, to be honest, sneaking into a Target after hours and slashing gouges through every pack of diapers designed for girls her age felt like it did more direct and immediate good than blowing up a building. Riley knew you couldn’t build a revolution on such small acts of defiance but they should be leaving the big things to groups with more funding and strength. Or was that just Riley’s fear talking? “It’s nothing, really,” Riley forced a smile. Rei felt that momentary vulnerability close. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad, but she was thankful Riley had opened up to her at all. More importantly, Rei respected the boundary Riley was setting. “Okay,” she said, “but, if you ever change your mind, I’m happy to listen.” “You know,” Riley said, “you’re pretty cool.” Rei blushed so hot she thought she was going to catch on fire.

I'm not sure what you mean by Preston! I'm unfamiliar with them/that. But I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I should have new chapters up tonight or tomorrow!

I absolutely intend to continue, just, yes, irl is being a bitch right now. I do apologize for the delay; I'll have some new chapters for yall soon!

Hi all! Sorry for not posting any new chapters lately; the new semester started and I've been kind of swamped with that! I'll be doing my best to post a 2-4 chapters every week from here on out! Chapter Ten Ms. Akiyama’s sunglasses blocked out the brilliant reflection of the sun off the still remaining banks of snow as she walked up the concrete steps of a cute little three-story townhouse. Cute little handmade Halloween decorates hung in the windows, like pumpkins and ghosts cut out of construction paper and black and orange paper ring chains. Ms. Akiyama reached out one finger and jabbed the white plastic doorbell and heard a series of chimes call in response from inside. A gust of wind cut through Ms. Akiyama’s peacoat as she waited; the snow was melting, but it was still unseasonably cold for this time of year. “Well,” a tall woman with strawberry blonde hair, tanned pink skin, and big glasses wearing mom jeans and a slightly wrinkled white blouse exclaimed with a slight southern drawl as she opened the door, “if it isn’t Hana Akiyama. Darling, how are you doing? Please come in,” she pushed open the screen door and stepped aside for her visitor, “I was so pleasantly surprised to hear from you last night.” “Hi, Heather,” Ms. Akiyama gave a tight lipped but polite smile as she stepped past the other woman and into her home. Ms. Akiyama immediately checked the floor around herself and the door, noting no discarded shoes and a pair of off-white New Balances on Heather’s feet, cueing her to leave her own shoes on. She then surveyed the room she had stepped into; a large living room with a dark grey couch flanked by a matching dark wood set of end tables and coffee table facing a sleek black entertainment center with a large flat-screen TV currently playing cartoons. “Thank you so much for inviting me over today, I really appreciate the chance to pick your brain.” “Oh, no worries at all, darling; I’m so happy to help you! Come on,” Heather beckoned Ms. Akiyama further into the house, waving her in with pale pink acrylic nails, “we can talk in my office! May I get you something to drink?” Ms. Akiyama followed the other women deeper into the house, but as she rounded the couch, her eyes were fixated on the large, open space in the living room where a girl Rei’s age sat in a playpen. The playpen itself was made of interlocking, hard plastic squares and could be configured to various shapes and sizes. The walls stood a little more than three feet high: taller than one would need to keep a toddler-sized toddler from mantling the sides, which was good since the toddler sitting in the middle of it was taller than Ms. Akiyama (though, admittedly, she was not a very tall woman). Megan Eckridge didn’t seem to notice Ms. Akiyama at first. Her gaze was fixed on the TV and a line of drool fell from the corner of her mouth around the thumb firmly planted inside. She was wearing a cropped t-shirt and a bright pink diaper with bunnies on it. It was clearly wet. On the floor in front of the girl’s crossed legs was a coloring book and a box of colored pencils. “Hi, Megan,” Ms. Akiyama said tentatively, giving the girl a little wave. The girl turned her head towards her name and immediately withdrew her thumb, wiping it on her shirt and trying to pretend she wasn’t just sucking it. “Um, hi,” she responded, but there was no recognition behind those eyes. “Oh, silly me,” Heather came back to where Ms. Akiyama had stopped, “I didn’t even think you might want to say hello to little miss Megan over here. Megan,” she addressed the girl with a saccharine voice, “do you remember your friend Rei?” Megan smiled and nodded, understanding dawning on her face. “Yes, um,” she turned her head towards Ms. Akiyama, “hello, Ms. Akiyama.” Her diction was far better than everything else about her appearance (size aside) would suggest. “Hi, Megan,” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but find herself bending over the girl a little bit in mimicry of Heather’s stance, “how are you doing today?” Nor could she keep a certain cooing quality out of her voice. Somewhere in her brain, she knew this was a nineteen-year-old girl, just like Rei, and yet the illusion of toddlerhood was so convincing, she couldn’t help but respond to it. “I’m good,” her cheeks were turning a warm red, “just…watching TV and coloring.” “She’s being a good girl for mommy while mommy works, isn’t that right, munchkin?” Heather chimed in. “Mommy…” the girl whined embarrassedly, yet seemingly unembarrassed to be heard calling her mother ‘mommy,’ Then the girl’s eyes suddenly went wide, as if just remembering something, “is Rei here?” She leaned over, her diaper crinkling under her, to look behind Ms. Akiyama. “Not today, sweetheart,” Ms. Akiyama responded. “But,” Heather chimed in immediately, “maybe it won’t be too long before you two can have a playdate, right Hana?” Ms. Akiyama let out a little breathless laugh, “yes, maybe, would you like that, Megan?” Megan put her finger to her lip, pantomiming being deep in thought, and Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but notice how truly toddler-like Megan was in that moment. “Sometimes,” Megan said at last, “I miss Rei, it would be nice to see her.” “Well, then we will just have to make sure to arrange that for you two,” Heather reached down and grabbed the pacifier hanging from Megan’s shirt and popped it in the girl’s mouth. “Now, Ms. Akiyama and Mommy are going to go talk in her office, you be good and watch your show, okay? And no more thumb sucking, little lady, that’s what your paci is for.” Heather booped her daughter’s nose, eliciting a gleeful giggle in response, then straightened up and beckoned Ms. Akiyama deeper into the house. “Now, Hana,” Heather said as she led Ms. Akiyama into the dining room and pulled out a chair for her, “can I get your something to drink? Coffee? Iced tea?” She dropped her voice and held her hand to her mouth as if whispering a secret, “a glass of white wine? I won’t judge, darling!” Ms. Akiyama chuckled politely, “a coffee sounds lovely, Heather, thank you.” “Coming right up,” Heather walked into the kitchen, pulled out two mugs and began fiddling with a pod coffee machine as she spoke. “You know, I was a little surprised to hear from you last night. And don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t unwelcome, I was just…surprised, you know?” Ms. Akiyama did know. She had once been pretty good friends with Heather Eckridge. Their daughters had met in middle school and become inseparable for years after that. Heather might not have been the kind of person Ms. Akiyama would have become friends with under more natural circumstances, but their daughter’s friendship had put them in close proximity and the two had eventually grown fond of each other. And then everything changed, and their friendship changed with it. It wasn’t like they were strangers now, but they…well…aside from the run-in a few months ago at the store, the most the two had communicated since their daughters had graduated from high school was through liking each other’s social media posts. Which, for Ms. Akiyama, just added to the surrealness of this reunion; she felt like she knew every major life update Heather had gone through for the past couple of years, and vice versa, while also having drifted away from the woman they had happened to. “Yes, I’m…sorry I didn’t keep in better touch,” Ms. Akiyama replied, mostly because she felt like that’s what she should say. “No worries, sugar,” Heather said as she came back into the dining room and set two glass of iced tea down. “I understand life is just hectic these days; I mean, you see what I’ve had my hands full with,” she chuckled as she gestured back towards the living room. “Speaking of, you said this was about Rei? What’s going on with her?” Ms. Akiyama sighed, blowing the steam from her coffee cup as she did, “I’m not sure I even know, Heather,” she replied, “and that’s kind of the problem.” Heather made an sympathetic sound in her throat and sipped on her coffee. “I’ll be honest, Hana; I always thought you were against…well, the kind of treatment Megan gets,” Heather said bluntly but neither accusatorially nor defensively. “To be honest, I thought it was part of the reason we drifted apart.” “I was never against it,” Ms. Akiyama replied, “and it certainly wasn’t the reason we drifted apart.” Of course, neither statement was entirely true; though, in fairness, neither was entirely false, either. “I guess I just…never understood it,” she said, a little more honestly, “but, lately…well…” she shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story, darling? Right from the beginning.” So, Ms. Akiyama did. “I’m just worried about her,” Ms. Akiyama said some few minutes later as she was coming to the conclusion of her tale, “worried she’s going to start hanging out with the wrong crowds and get herself in trouble, not to mention fill her head with ideas that will only lead to being unhappy and frustrated. I know Rei’s independence is important to her, and I’ve tried to be respectful of that, but if these are the kinds of decisions she is making with that independence, maybe…maybe she’s not mature enough to handle it, after all. “I understand exactly what you mean, darling,” Heather reached out and placed a sympathetic hand on Ms. Akiyama’s, “that’s why we never let Megan go off to college. Her and Rei are so alike, I just know Megan would have ended up taking those kinds of classes, probably gotten herself involved with that Rebel group—” “And that’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Ms. Akiyama interjected. “It’s bad enough that Rei is even taking these kinds of classes, but going behind my back and lying about it is so unlike her that I’m worried what else she might be capable of doing. It makes me worried she’s already gotten her head full of ideas that are going to get her hurt or worse.” Heather nodded along sympathetically as Ms. Akiyama spoke. “It would certainly be a tragedy to see poor Rei go down that path.” “So,” Ms. Akiyama continued, “I started thinking last night, and it just…kind of clicked. You know, like I said, I never was really against this kind of…behavioral therapy,” Ms. Akiyama used what she believed was the politically correct term for it, “I just…didn’t understand. But…” Ms. Akiyama went on to explain her thought process, finishing with a timid, “does that make sense?” “It makes perfect sense, darling, and that’s exactly why we decided this was best for Megan.” “Do you ever…regret it?” “Goodness, no! Megan and I are closer than ever, and I know she’s happy and staying out of trouble.” “Is she though? Happy, that is.” Heather smiled, “come on,” she stood up from the table and headed back into the living room. Ms. Akiyama pushed her chair away from the table and followed Heather, finding her kneeling down next to the playpen, where Megan’s focus had shifted from the TV to her coloring book. “Honey?” Heather said gently, getting Megan’s attention. “Hi, Mommy,” the girl mumbled around her pacifier. “Sweetheart,” Heather reached out and gently pulled the pacifier from her daughter’s mouth, “how do you feel about being a little girl again for Mommy and Daddy?” Megan’s smile positively beamed, “I love it, Mommy.” “Do you ever,” Ms. Akiyama chimed in as she settled on the floor next to Heather, “miss being a big girl?” Megan scrunched up her face in thought, “well, I used to, but I really don’t anymore. Besides, Mommy says I’ll be a big girl again. When I’m ready.” She added the last bit as an afterthought. “Of course,” Heather added, “that’s still quite a few years away, huh little one?” Megan just giggled and nodded. But, Ms. Akiyama wanted to ask, are you really happy? But what did that question even mean; how could Megan possibly answer it? And why was Ms. Akiyama so bent on not taking Megan’s response at face value? Especially when every piece of evidence seemed to verify the truth of it. “Thank you, Megan,” Ms. Akiyama said as she pushed herself up off the floor, “I’ll let you get back to playing.” “Um, Ms. Akiyama?” Megan asked as the two mothers began moving back to the dining room. “Yes?” “Is Rei going to…are you…is Rei going to be a little girl again too?” “I don’t know, sweetheart, why do you ask?” Megan looked down at her hands, which fiddled with her pacifier. “I miss Rei. I didn’t want to stop being friends with her, but I thought she wouldn’t want to be friends with me after…you know…” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but feel her heart breaking from the young girl. “Don’t worry, Megan,” she replied, “even if Rei doesn’t become a little girl again, I’ll see what I can do about you two being friends still, okay?” Megan smiled that beaming smile again and thanked Ms. Akiyama before popping her pacifier back in and returning to her coloring. “See?” Heather said as the two women sat back down in front of their coffees. “I wouldn’t have guessed she’d be this happy when we started, but…well, here we are.” Ms. Akiyama sighed, “I can’t deny that, I just worry Rei won’t…share those kinds of feelings.” “Listen,” Heather replied, leaning forward to convey her seriousness, “almost every mom I talk to says the same: before long, every girl accepts her place and is happier for it. I’m not going to tell you it will be easy; if you are really thinking about this…well, I mean, you tell me, are you really thinking about doing this?” Ms. Akiyama looked away from Heather, staring at the wall that hid Megan from sight. “I am,” she said after a long moment, surprising even herself. “I mean, maybe not taking it as far as you have with Megan, but…” “Well, that’s another thing,” Heather said, “early on, a little bit goes a long way, but if Rei is taking those kinds of classes at college and going behind your back, I think you need to think about how far you want to go, and then be prepared to go further, if necessary.” Ms. Akiyama considered this, “well, how far do you think would be far enough?” Heather shrugged, “it’s different for every girl and every family, you have to figure out what’s best for you. Look, darling, I’m happy to help you with this if you need it, and you certainly look like you need some help, but the best thing I can suggest is to get some professional help.” “Professional help?” “Yeah! We went to Brighter Days School and Behavioral Therapy for Girls; they were fantastic. Richard and I couldn’t have done this without them.” “Oh, no,” Ms. Akiyama quickly brushed aside the suggestion, “I don’t think Rei would respond well to being sent off to a school like that.” “That’s the thing, you don’t have to send her there.” “What do you mean?” “When Richard and I first decided to handle Megan with this kind of behavioral therapy, we went to them for a consultation. We told them what kind of girl Megan was and what our goals were for her, and they gave us just so many tools and resources we could use. Megan had no idea, and we couldn’t have gotten the results we did without them.” “Huh,” Ms. Akiyama took this in as she sipped at her coffee. That, she had to admit, sounded like exactly what she needed. “If you want,” Heather offered, “I have a referral code I can give you; should get you a discount on the initial consultation.” “I guess…it can’t hurt, right?” Chapter Eleven “Reports coming in early this morning that late last night Greenham Police Department made two arrests in conjunction with the October 4th bombing of the Greenham City Hall. The suspects, seen here, are twenty-year-old Melanie Wright and twenty-one-year-old Josie Stone. Both women are assumed to be members of the domestic terrorist group Rebel and are confirmed to both be students at Greenham Community College. Given national intelligence telling us that most splinter groups of The Vantez Collective form around colleges, speculation is rampant that our own Greenham Community College could be the recruiting ground for these homegrown terrorists.” Ms. Akiyama had been watching the news cycle surrounding these arrests all morning, feeling a sense of dread that built every time the news anchor mentioned the connection to Greenham Community College. And everyone knew that these kinds of gender studies classes that Ms. Akiyama had pulled Rei from spoon-fed them all sorts of radical nonsense. Exactly the kind of nonsense that led to your signing up to be a terrorist. Why did they even allow those classes to be taught anymore? Ms. Akiyama took a breath. That was neither here nor now. She’d made the right choice to pull Rei from that class; but maybe that wasn’t quite enough for a girl like Rei. Especially if they already had their hooks in Rei. But, of course, Ms. Akiyama was jumping to conclusions. Right? Rei was headstrong and at times stubborn, but she was a good kid, she knew better than to get herself wrapped up in this kind of business, right? Ms. Akiyama wanted to say that was so, but a knot of anxiety in her chest said otherwise. “Wait, what’s going on?” Rei’s voice from behind her shocked her from her internal monologue. “Oh, um, they arrested two girls for the bombing of City Hall.” “They did?” Rei’s hair was still a mess and her pajamas crumpled on her small frame. “Who? Did they say their names?” Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “Why? Worried you know them?” “Well,” Rei shrugged, “there aren’t a lot of girls at my school, mom…” Ms. Akiyama frowned at that; Rei had a point. She picked up the TV remote and rewound until she saw the two girl’s pictures pop up on screen. “year-old Melanie Wright,” the voice on the TV narrated, “and twenty-one-year-old Josie Stone.” “So?” “Uh, yeah,” Rei replied, too shocked to even consider whether she should have lied. “I didn’t really know them, though. I had a class with Melanie and um…just saw Josie around.” The instinct to lie kicked before she could blurt out where she really knew Josie from. “What class?” “Um, you know, the…gender…class…” “Oh.” Ms. Akiyama felt that knot of anxiety in her chest tighten. Rei had known these girls. They could have tried to recruit her! These girls could have gotten Rei involved in this whole mess. They hadn’t, had they? She studied her daughter’s face as she stared at the news coverage of the arrests. It wasn’t possible Rei had been involved, was it? She’d come home late that night, Ms. Akiyama remembered that, but she had been with her professor. Her…gender studies…professor… But, no, that was ridiculous. Those professors might fill these girls’ heads with all sorts of nonsense, but certainly they’d never go so far as to encourage much less participate in these sorts of acts. No, Ms. Akiyama was jumping the gun there, surely. But Rei had known them. These were the kinds of girls Ms. Akiyama was letting Rei be around if she kept letting her go to college. If she didn’t do something to make Rei understand that Ms. Akiyama knew best. If she didn’t help Rei learn a new way to be happy in this world. For her part, Rei was glued to the TV, as oblivious to her mother’s stare as she was to her internal dialogue. Was she safe? Were they going to arrest her next? Were they going to arrest Riley next? The truth was, Rei had hardly been involved. She had been in a car with three other girls three blocks away in case something went wrong. She was on the B team. Surely they couldn’t have any evidence against her, right? But what if Melanie or Josie turned on the rest of them? Some kind of plea bargain? They had all promised not to name names or cooperate in any way in the event that this happened, but what would they stick to their word if it meant getting themselves out of trouble? Rei just had to trust that they wouldn’t.

Would love to! Can't figure out how! XD Nevermind! Figured it out!

Hi All! I was talking with some people about this story in a discord server and I thought, ya know what, let's give 'em some more, so here's a big update for you! Chapter Six Ms. Akiyama, Thank you for reaching out to me with your concerns. First of all, I can, in fact, confirm that your daughter, Rei Akiyama, was with me this past Wednesday evening. I was running a workshop for a number of students to give them a chance to work on their midterm essays under supervision. As to your second question, I understand a lot of parents have concerns about the curriculum their children are learning in college these days. Please, allow me to reassure you on this matter. While we do deal with political issues and current events in my classroom, my goal is to provide students with a balanced perspective of the issues and help them formulate their own thoughts on matters. This is a tough and confusing time for everyone your daughter’s age, but especially for girls, and I like to think of my classroom as a place where they can work through their thoughts on these matters in a safe and educational environment. Of course, my first and utmost priority is to make sure your daughter receives a high-quality education, and I only include politics as much as I think is appropriate for this course. On a more personal note, I would like to add that your daughter is an exemplary student, and it has been my pleasure to teach her thus far this semester. I can tell that she is very passionate about her studies, and I very much look forward to continuing to work with her through the semester. You should be very proud of her. I hope that my answers have allayed some of your concerns; if you have any other questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. Sincerely, Professor Natalie Lewis, PhD She/Her/Hers Associate Professor Gender Studies Department Greenham Community College Chapter Seven Rei slipped through the front door of her house as quietly as she could and slipped off her shoes. She stopped for a moment and just listened, trying to see if she could tell where her mother was. Hearing nothing, she carefully peered into the living room, expecting to perhaps see her reading on the couch. Nothing. On tiptoes, Rei made her way to the kitchen and looked through to the dining room beyond. Nothing. The downstairs bathroom was empty too. The car had been in the driveway, though, so Rei knew her mother was home. Maybe she had gone to bed early? Feeling uneasy, Rei crept up the stairs. She didn’t even know for sure that she had anything to fear from her mother; maybe Professor Lewis had managed to quell her fears without revealing that Rei was taking exactly the kind of class her mother had told her not to. The kind that put ideas in your head, according to her mother. Relieved to see the second-floor hallway clear of her mother, Rei breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door to her room. A gasp caught in Rei’s throat as she registered she was unexpectedly not alone in her bedroom. Then her eyes caught up to her panicked brain and that panic faded and sunk into dread. Her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed; sitting on the bed beside her were some of Rei’s school books—specifically the kind that taught feminist theory. The two looked at each other in silence as the moment stretched on forever for Rei. “Mom…what…?” Rei finally managed to force out a few strangled words. “How was class today, Rei?” “Uhm, okay, how was your day?” She replied, trying to redirect. “Tell me again, what classes did you have today?” “Uh…” Rei chewed on her bottom lip nervously, knowing she was caught and unsure how best to minimize the damage. “Stop chewing your lip, Rei, and answer the question.” “I had class with Professor Lewis and Professor Slater today,” evasion, she had decided, was her best bet right now. “Uh huh, and what class, exactly, does Professor Lewis teach?” Damn, that didn’t work. “Rei! I’m tired of telling you, stop chewing your lip and answer the question.” “English.” Ms. Akiyama clicked her tongue and shook her head; she had hoped her daughter would come clean, but instead she had lied through her teeth right to her own mother’s face. Who was her daughter becoming? Whoever it was, Ms. Akiyama didn’t like it, and she wasn’t going to let her daughter go down a bad path. “So, you are reading,” Ms. Akiyama picked up one of the books on the bed next to her, “The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir for English?” Rei nodded; she was committed now, and the only way out was through. “I see,” Ms. Akiyama set the book down and picked up the next, “Gender Trouble by Judith Butler?” Rei nodded, her eyes wide, glossy discs. “And A Vindication of the Rights of Woman: with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects by Mary Wollstonecraft?” Rei kept lying, but there was no light at the end of the tunnel yet. Ms. Akiyama sighed and set the books down. “Well, don’t you worry; you won’t be needing these books anymore. I called the school today and withdrew you from that English class.” “What? Mom! That’s not fair!” Rei was trying to keep her voice calm, but she couldn’t help but let it crank up a few decibels. Her heart was suddenly beating way too fast, and she felt vaguely beside herself with frustration and anger. “Life isn’t fair, Rei,” Ms. Akiyama spat back. “And you don’t just get to do whatever you want without consequences. When I agreed to let you continue going to college, you promised me wouldn’t be taking courses like that. You don’t need to be filling your head with the kind of dreck these classes teach! It is bad enough that you took that class after I had expressly forbidden you from taking any such classes, but then you sat there and lied to my face about it. You abused my trust, Rei; you have to learn there will be consequences to this kind of behavior.” “I wouldn’t have had to lie about the class if you would have just let me take it in the first place!” Rei shot back impotently. Tears were threatening to run down her face, and her hands were balled into fists at her side. “Excuse me, young lady? Are you saying it’s my fault you lied?” “No, that’s not what I meant!” As upset as she was, even Rei had the sense to know when to back pedal. “It’s just…” her mouth worked for words her brain wasn’t providing. “Just what? What do you have to say for yourself to justify this behavior?” “Just…ugh! Why can’t I just take the stupid class? You don’t even know what we learn in there!” “I have a good enough idea, young lady. And I’ve already told you, I don’t want that school filling your head with all sorts of ideas about what the world could or should be; the world is what it is, and you have to accept that! You have to live in reality, Rei; don’t you understand I just want what’s best for you?” “You don’t know what’s best for me!” Rei saw the look in her mother’s eyes and immediately knew she had said the wrong thing. It all happened so quickly that Rei’s brain had to race to keep up with her body. Ms. Akiyama’s hand shot out, catching Rei’s wrist in an iron grip, and tugging the small girl forward and across her mother’s lap. On Ms. Akiyama’s end, the motion was surprisingly instinctive despite it having been the better part of two decades since she had needed to perform it. “Mom!” Rei protested as she realized what was about to happen. “I’m sorry!” But her pleas fell on indifferent ears. Ms. Akiyama flipped her daughter’s skirt up, yanked down her cotton panties, reared back, and smacked her daughter hard enough to fill the room with a thunderous clap that nearly swallowed Rei’s pained yelp. Then she did it again. And again. And again. By the fifth hit, Rei had started kicking her feet, desperately trying to get away, but Ms. Akiyama held her firmly in place. By the fifteenth, Rei’s yelps had turned to cries, quickly approaching sobs. By the thirtieth, all the fight had gone out of the girl, and she lay limply across her mother’s lap, tears cascading freely down her face, praying it would end soon. By the fiftieth, Ms. Akiyama had to help her shuddering daughter get up off of her lap and stand on her own feet. “I am your mother, Rei, I will always know what is best for you,” Ms. Akiyama held her daughter by her shaking shoulders as she looked into her tear-filled eyes. “You, Rei, are a child and do not understand how the world works. You do not have the experience, knowledge, or maturity to make these kinds of decisions. I had thought that maybe, just maybe, you were ready for that responsibility, but this whole fiasco demonstrates very clearly that you do not. So, from now on until you grow up and can make important decisions yourself, I will be making them for you. I will make your decisions because I know what is best for you. And what is best for you is that you never go to that class again. Do you understand?” Rei nodded weakly. “Say the words, Rei. Do you understand?” “Yes, Mom, I understand.” “Now, I think you should thank me for allowing you to continue going to all your other classes, don’t you?” A fresh round of sobs racked Rei’s body, but she nodded, “t-thank you,” she managed to get out. “You’re welcome.” Ms. Akiyama let go of her daughter’s shoulders, and the girl crumpled to the ground. Without another word, she gathered up the now confiscated feminist texts and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Rei lay on the floor for a long moment after that, but eventually crawled over to her discarded backpack. She grabbed her cell phone from the front pocket and opened her texting app. Chapter Eight Ms. Akiyama quietly closed the door behind her, cutting off the worst of Rei’s sobs. Clutching the confiscated books to her chest, she resisted the urge to run to her bedroom at the end of the hallway and instead forced herself to make her there in slow, measured steps. Stay calm, she told herself, just stay calm. But when the bedroom door closed behind her, Ms. Akiyama could no longer keep her composure. She slumped against the closed door and let out a little sympathetic sob; she couldn’t believe what she had done. She had just lost her cool. She hadn’t spanked Rei since she was a toddler, but now she had done it without even thinking about it. She just wanted what was best for Rei; she wanted her daughter to be happy and safe. Rei needed to understand that; her daughter needed to understand that she wasn’t as smart as she thinks she is, nor was Ms. Akiyama as clueless as her daughter believed her. Maybe…maybe it was for the best, maybe Rei needed a good spanking to get the lesson through her head, but…but Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but feel terrible for what she had done. Wiping her eyes, Ms. Akiyama sat down on her bed. She’d always thought of herself as a good mother, but now…now she wasn’t so sure. Things were so different than when she was a kid. The parenting she’d learned no longer seemed to apply; she felt like she was starting over as a new mother, as clueless and rudderless as she was when Rei was first born. But on the other hand, maybe she wasn’t giving Rei enough credit for how hard this must be for her. It was no wonder Rei was being so rebellious; the world had changed a lot since she was a kid, too, and she was having to relearn the ways of the world just when she was at an age when she was starting to figure things out. In as much as Ms. Akiyama was, in many ways, a new mother, Rei was…well, a child. Huh…wait…that was an interesting thought. Could it really…? Could she…? She wouldn’t know where to begin. And after all, when she thought of it like that, there was a certain sense to what some mothers were doing to their daughters. Ms. Akiyama had been stunned to find that some of Rei’s friends from high school had begun to go through this kind of treatment; she had been baffled to know that women Ms. Akiyama had worked with in the PTA were doing this to their daughters. She hadn’t gotten it then; she hadn’t understood why someone would do that to their young adult daughter, but, suddenly, she could see the sense in it. And then there was…well…Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but think back to a few months ago when she had been shopping with Rei when the pair had run into one of Rei’s best friends from high school and her mother: Megan and Heather Eckridge. Ms. Akiyama had been shocked, to say the least, to see the former being pushed in a stroller sized for a young adult. Megan had been like Rei in high school: bright and ambitious. But for all appearances, Megan had looked happy. It had been the first, but certainly not the last, time Ms. Akiyama had seen someone so close to her and Rei regressed so far, and Ms. Akiyama still remembered the sort of surreal feeling she had. She was cognizant of how horrified she might have been to see a girl she had known to be as driven and mature as Rei sucking on a pacifier with what was obviously a very soaked diaper pressing against the snaps of her onesies, but Megan had seemed so…happy. And that happiness had diffused the horror of the situation, leaving only an uncanny echo. And all Ms. Akiyama really wanted for Rei was to be happy. But Rei would never go for it. No, Ms. Akiyama knew what was best; if she thought this was what was best for her daughter, her daughter would do it. She wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. Rei might hate it at first, that was true, but Ms. Akiyama was sure she would come to find happiness in it. More happiness than she was bound to find if she kept filling her head with all sorts of dreck and detritus. And it wasn’t even like Ms. Akiyama was thinking of going as all in as Heather Eckridge had; she was only considering going deep enough to put Rei back in her place and keep her in line, make sure she grew up to have a nice, happy life despite the new twists and turns the world had thrown at her. But…was this best? Rei was mostly a good kid; she was just too curious for her own good. Maybe she could handle this in a more conventional way. Rei would see reason if Ms. Akiyama talked to her. But, then again, Rei hadn’t seen sense yet, despite Ms. Akiyama trying to talk to her. In fact, she usually got pouty and sullen when Ms. Akiyama tried to talk to her about these things. In fact, Rei acted like a child who didn’t get her way; maybe, if Rei was going to behave like a child… There was a time Ms. Akiyama would have found this suggestion ridiculous, laughably so. Indeed, that had been her initial reaction a few years ago when this thing first started becoming popular enough to gain national attention. And yet, perhaps for the first time, she saw the sense in it. But one thing was for certain: Rei would fight tooth and nail every inch of the way. Luckily, one thing was the same today as it was when Rei was a child: Ms. Akiyama was not too proud to admit she didn’t know what she was doing and seek help. When she was pregnant with Rei, she had devoured parenting books and blogs and guides of any format. And certainly, they had been helpful, but, once Rei was born, Ms. Akiyama quickly found that the best source of wisdom was the other women down in the trenches of motherhood with her. So, Ms. Akiyama did the one thing she could think of: she picked up her phone, opened her contacts, and navigated to Heather Eckridge. Chapter Nine (Author's Note: My apologies if there are any formatting issues in this chapter. This chapter contains a text message conversation between two characters; in the original Word document, I took the time to put the messages in colored boxes like in a messaging app, but, unsurprisingly, this didn't translate. I think everything should be fine, but just in case, my apologies!) Rei’s thumb hesitated over the send button. She barely knew the girl; should she really be texting her about…this? Somehow, though, she was the only person Rei wanted to talk to about it. Somehow, Rei knew she’d understand how awful Rei felt right now. Somehow, she would know what to do. Rei took a deep breath and hit send. “Hey, riley, it’s rei” Rei immediately regretted hitting send. She stared at the screen of her phone, desperately wishing there was an unsend button. She even long-pressed the text box to make sure there wasn’t. After a few more long moments spent looking at that unchanging screen, Rei put her phone to sleep and set it on the floor next to her. It was stupid, Riley was probably busy, and, besides, it was dumb to even bring this up with her. But, who else could Rei talk to? Megan Eckridge had been Rei’s best friend throughout both middle and high school; the two had been inseparable for six years and had planned to go to the same university. But the last time Rei had seen Megan had been a few months ago when she ran into Megan and her mother in Target; the latter had been pushing the former in a stroller. The look on Megan’s face had been embarrassed and slightly apologetic, but she had simply sucked her pacifier and let her mother do the catching up. Rei had met Brian Redburn during their freshman year of high school; they were lab partners in biology and entered the science fair together, taking home third place. The two had stayed close after that, even though Rei always suspected Brian was aiming for more than friendship. In senior year, Brian started to be very vocal about his support for groups like Mothers for America that lobbied for the kind of social policy change that would eventually lead to the passage of The Hayes Act. That had been the end of their friendship. Sally Walker had been her partner in the debate team; they’d always had a bit of a frenemy vibe going. No, that wasn’t quite right, they were never enemies, but frequent rivals, challenging the other to get better grades and perform better in their debates. They were fast friends when it mattered though. Sally’s mother had emancipated her when The Hayes Act was passed, and Sally went off to the kind of fancy university Rei herself would have gone to if not for…well, everything. They had lost touch. Maybe Rei could have reached out and tried to rekindle that friendship, but…no, Sally could never even begin to understand what Rei was feeling. But, for that matter, could Riley? Riley had been emancipated too, but…there was something about her. She wasn’t fighting this fight for herself, but she was still down in the trenches fighting for girls like Megan. Girls like, it seemed, Rei. Rei dived on her phone like a live grenade as it vibrated. “Hey girl good to hear from you, hows it going?” Rei let out a sigh of relief; part of her had been worried that Riley had only given Rei her number to be nice and didn’t expect Rei to use it. Rei’s fingers danced across her screen. “Tbh it has been a weird night. I was…kinda hoping i could talk to you about it, if that’s okay” Rei was relieved to see the three bouncing dots that told her Riley was typing back appear almost immediately. “Yeah of course, sounds serious, everything okay?” Rei’s fingers remained motionless as she thought through how to respond to that question. Everything was definitely not okay, but…how to explain what had happened? Rei started typing, her fingers flying, as she narrated the events of the evening, starting with coming home. Wait, no, hold on. Rei held down the delete button until what she had just written disappeared. She had to explain the lead up to today, or else Riley wouldn’t really get how things had led up to this point. Rei started typing again, then started deleting before she had finished a sentence. Okay, she thought to herself, just keep it simple. She typed out for words, let her thumb linger over send for a long moment, then let it drop. “My mom spanked me” “Shit. You okay? What happened? And so, for the second time, Rei launched into her retelling of the events of the day. Riley remained silent on her end until Rei finally reached the end of her story. Rei pressed send on her final message and set her phone down to wait for Riley’s response. The burning, stinging sensation on her ass was finally beginning to fade, but the deep muscle ache was still very present. Rei couldn’t help but wonder if her butt would bruise. Riley did not keep Rei waiting for long. “Shit. That’s so fucked up, im so sorry rei. What can I do to help? Do you need me to come get you? You can stay at my place for the night if you need to. We will figure out how to get your re-enrolled in that class, okay? So don’t worry about that.” “No, no, that’s okay…I just needed someone to talk to about it, and tbh I didn’t know who else I could talk to about this. Anyway, there’s no way my mom would let me leave the house tonight and I don’t want to think about what she might do if she caught me sneaking out tonight. As for the class..idk, maybe it’s better I just obey my mom on this one.” “Okay, if youre really sure…” “I’m sure. I just…really needed to tell someone about this that I knew would be on my side, if that makes sense” “Yeah, it does. And rei? Never doubt that I’m on your side.” “Thanks riley. Thanks a lot” Rei smiled weakly and put her phone down. Riley hadn’t been able to make anything tangibly better, but Rei hadn’t expected her to either. Just sharing what had happened and having Riley affirm that it was, indeed, fucked up was enough. That was all Rei had really needed. Well, that was all Rei needed that she was going to get right then. The two continued texting throughout the night, but conversation quickly turned on to other matters. When Rei finally went to bed that night, she fell asleep with her face bathed in the light of her phone screen as her eyes danced amongst those three bouncing dots. When five minutes passed without a response from Rei, Riley started to think the girl had fallen asleep. She had, after all, said she was lying down in bed; it was the obvious assumption for Rei’s sudden silence. When another ten passed and Riley’s phone remained silent, she was quite sure of it. Riley got out of her own bed and, leaving her phone behind, wandered downstairs to find a snack. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the murmur of the TV coming from the living room and see the flickering light illuminating the hallway. Riley’s socked feet moved silently over the hardwood floor as she crossed the hallway and entered the living room, where she found her mother sitting in an otherwise dark room with a bowl of popcorn watching what appeared to be some old sitcom. She looked up at her daughter as Riley came into the room and paused the TV. “Hey,” Anne, Riley’s mother, said, “you’re still up. I thought you went to bed a while ago.” “Nah,” Riley said, plopping down on the couch next to her mother, “I’ve just been in my room, texting a friend.” Her mother extended the popcorn bowl towards Riley, who grabbed a handful. “Everything okay?” She couldn’t quite place it, but her daughter had an odd tone in her voice. “Yeah,” Riley crunched down on a piece of popcorn and chewed thoughtfully. “Yeah,” she repeated once she had swallowed, “my friend is just going through some things.” “Sorry to hear that,” Anne replied. “Is this a friend of yours I know?” Riley shook her head, “nah, I just met her recently. She goes to school with me.” When it became clear that Riley wasn’t going to continue, Anne picked the TV remote back up and pressed play, and the two sat in silence watching the TV and munching on popcorn for a long moment. As they watched the show in silence, Riley’s mind drifted back to the whole reason Rei had texted her. Truthfully, Riley had been excited to see Rei’s text; their meeting had been brief, but she felt a connection with the other girl. If she was being honest, she had been slightly sad that Rei was coming to her because she had a problem. It was silly, but she wanted Rei to…well…genuinely want to talk to her. Would Rei had ever texted Riley if this hadn’t happened? Riley knew, however, that this thought was unfair and ungenerous to her new friend. Furthermore, it downplayed the significance of the fact that Rei had trusted Riley enough to come to her with this. Riley was sure the other girl had plenty of other friends she could have gone to. All of this was, of course, overshadowed by Riley’s concern over the implications of Rei’s mother’s actions. Riley knew she was lucky to have a mother like hers; one that respected not only Riley’s adulthood but her personhood as well. The sad truth was, what had started as something practiced by only the most conservative families had become rather mainstream, and most girls had parents who had supported The Hayes Act to some degree or another. There was a reason The Hayes Act had soared through both houses of congress with the most bipartisan support of any bill in recent memory. Of course, not every family went so far as to completely regress their adult daughters to giant infants. This extreme of the spectrum was still, technically, in the minority but large enough that it was considered perfectly normal. Large enough that adult sized baby products and clothes had become big business. Large enough that that they still outnumbered the families on the other extreme of the spectrum who had emancipated their daughters. The majority of families fell in sort of a middle ground that included varying degrees of regression: some families stopped short of fully regressing their adult daughters to babyhood, instead merely regressing them to toddlerhood; some treated them more like elementary age girls; some merely extended their teen years; and, of course, there were those who combined elements from ages to their liking. The fact was that it was estimated that 82.7% of girls ages 18 to 28 wore pull ups or diapers. The fact was that only 8.5% of girls age 18 to 28 were emancipated. The fact was the companies like Kimberly-Clarke and Proctor & Gamble, companies that produced brands like Pampers, Luvs, and Huggies, were raking in record profits. The fact was that their profits had been having exponential growth over the last five years as this movement started gaining traction. The fact was that those rising profits had been reinvested in propaganda and lobbyists. And that’s not even to mention the role of the pharmaceutical companies and private education institutes. The fact was that Riley was well aware of all of these facts; they were ingrained in her memory, and just thinking about them was enough to make her furious. She forced herself to unclench her jaw, then took a deep breath. She willed herself to calm down. It kind of worked. Rei had told her today that her mother was a bit on the fence, but this was a sign that she was picking a side. This was a pretty drastic and pretty sudden declaration. How far would Rei’s mom take it? Were diapers in Rei’s future? Pre-school? Elementary? Maybe Rei would get lucky and her mom would just send her to an extended high school program. Riley hoped that’s all it would be, for the sake of her new friend. But either way, in in the best case for Rei, Riley would lose her. Even if Rei went the way of Jennifer Duffy, being regressed to infancy in some ways while still allowed to attend college, it was only a matter of time before the two couldn’t be friends anymore. Rei was far from the first friend Riley would lose to this trend, and once their parents started dragging them down, it was only a matter of time before they stopped being friends. Sometimes, it was because their mother forbade them from hanging out with Riley, citing her as a bad influence. Sometimes, it was because the other girl couldn’t handle being friends with Riley, either out of embarrassment or jealousy or some other complication. And sometimes, it was because the other girl started drinking the kool-aid and decided Riley was a bad influence on their own. That was how it had been with Jennifer Duffy. Riley didn’t want to lose another friend, especially not one she had just made. “You know,” Anne spoke up suddenly, startling Riley out of her thoughts, “I loved this show when I was a kid. I saw it was on streaming now and decided to rewatch it.” “And?” Riley prompted. “How is it holding up?” Anne chuckled, “not well. I remember it being a lot funnier; but maybe I was just easier to amuse back then. Either way, the show didn’t age well.” Riley snorted a short laugh. “Yeah, well, some things are better left in the past.” Anne looked at her daughter thoughtfully, wondering what was going on in her head. Something seemed to be weighing on her. Of course, it didn’t take a genius to see that Riley wasn’t thinking about TV shows when she had said that. Anne frowned, uncertain what to do for her daughter. Riley was smart and mature and passionate; Anne was proud of all that. She had given her daughter every opportunity she could give her to be independent and seek out her goals, but Anne could only do so much, and the world was against both of them. It couldn’t help that Riley was one of only a select few amongst her peers whose mother gave them such freedom. “Your friend,” Anne said after a long silence, “is she…are her parents…” Anne gestured vaguely, uncertain how to put this euphemistically. “No,” Riley responded, getting the gist of what her mother was trying to say, “at least, not yet. I don’t know. I hope not.” Anne frowned deeper. She knew how many friends Riley had watched have their adulthoods stripped from them. She knew how furious the whole thing made Riley. “You know you can’t interfere, right?” Riley reached over and grabbed a small handful of popcorn. She shoved it in her mouth and chewed silently, staring at the TV. “Right?” Anne said again, louder this time. Riley swallowed pointedly and gave her mother a withering look, “it’s rude to talk with your mouthful.” Anne sighed, “but seriously, okay? Right?” Riley flopped back on the couch, “right, whatever.” “I know it’s hard, Riley. I’m really sorry.” “It’s fucking dumb is what it is.” “That doesn’t make it any less real.” “I know, mom.” “I just worry you are going to get yourself in trouble. Even I can’t protect you if you get in trouble.” “I’m not gonna get in trouble.” “Uh huh, sure, you’re not, little miss Rebel.” Riley rolled her eyes but said nothing. She hadn’t wanted her mother to know she was member of Rebel, much less figure out that she was its founder and leader; she would very much have preferred if that had stayed a secret. But Riley’s mother wasn’t stupid. “I’m serious, Riley,” her mother continued a moment later, her tone dropping to reflect the gravity she intended for her words, “you know I’m proud of what you are doing, but I want you to scale it down, okay? That was dangerous and risky.” Riley just sighed. Her mother hadn’t said anything about the bombing yet, but of course Riley knew her mother knew Riley was behind it. Of course, Riley knew she wasn’t going to stay silent about it forever (how could one stay silent if they knew their child had masterminded an explosive act of domestic terrorism, after all, and Riley was, quite frankly, shocked it had taken her this long), but Riley really wasn’t in the mood to talk about it tonight. “Hey, you listening to me?” Anne pressed. “This is the only way we are going to effect change, mom,” Riley replied calmly. “You are not fighting this fight alone, Riley; let the larger groups with more resources do stuff like that. Stick to vandalism and anti-propaganda, okay? That’s what you are good at anyway.” “We had to do something big, mom!” “No, you didn’t. I told you, if I thought this was getting out of hand, I would revoke your emancipation. It would kill me to do it, but I’d rather you hate me than see you in prison…or worse.” “It’s not getting out of hand.” “You could have killed someone, Riley!” Her mother was trying to keep her voice level, but that one tested her. “We made sure we wouldn’t. We did our research, made sure no one was in the building.” “What if someone had stayed late?” “Well, no one did!” “But, what if?” Anne huffed angrily. Fighting was going to get nowhere. And the truth was, it really wasn’t like Anne disapproved of what her daughter had done, she just didn’t want to see her daughter get in trouble. “Look, I don’t want to fight, okay? But you know what could happen if they catch you, right?” “Yeah, mom, I do.” Best case scenario? Prison. Worst case scenario? Fostered with a family that would send her to some place like Brighter Days Academy where they’d force the kool-aid down her throat. “Are you really willing to risk that?” Kill me if I ever become like that. Those were the words Riley had spoken to Rei just that day. Riley wanted to say yes, that this fight was important enough to her that she’d risk the ego death of complete regression, and maybe there was some part of her that truly was dedicated enough to the ideal to risk it. But the truth was, the bombing hadn’t even been her idea, and she had been against it at first—not out of principle, but out of fear. But it was safer that her mother think it had been Riley’s idea—safer that Anne not know who truly led Rebel. Finally, Riley sighed and gave her mom a half smile, “can we go back to doing robberies?” She was making a joke only she would get; she had been against that too. Anne sighed in exasperation, “You know I didn’t like it when you did that either, but I’d prefer that to this. But I’d really prefer you stick with vandalism and anti-Hayes propaganda.” “Yeah, okay,” Riley agreed, genuinely hoping she could keep her end of that agreement but also genuinely worried she might not be allowed to.

Huh! That's an interesting thing to point out, and I think it says something interesting about how cultural norms would shift in this alternate history. I didn't even think to mention whether Rei was in panties, pull-ups, etc., because, in our world, panties is the default, thus it's assumed that if I don't mention it, that's what she's wearing! But that might not be the default assumption in this world! To clarify, yes, Rei wears panties! In retrospect, I wish I had added a scene of her getting ready so we could clarify that--maybe if I ever do a revised edition XD Thanks for pointing that out; it's an interesting thought!

Most of the world building credit goes to Altered States! The narrative and characters are completely mine, and I'm filling in some holes or putting my own twist on some details here and there, but I really am trying to stay as close to his vision for this world as I can, and I do want to make sure he gets that credit. But thank you for your continued interest!

Not by accident! XD When I was talking to some friends about my initial ideas for the story, I pitched it as "the handmaid's tale but ABDL" No firm release schedule! I'm going to try to post at least two to four chapters a week, but especially with the new semester starting soon, I can't guarantee anything! To be honest, I usually write in first person, so this whole narrative, and especially the prologue, is kind of experimental for me. BUT! Fascination and confusion was what I was going for in the prologue, so it sounds like I nailed it! XD Thanks everyone who commented, I really appreciate hearing your thoughts, and I really hope you continue to share them! And now, I give you the next three chapters of You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days? Chapter Three The Greenham Post Friday, October 6th Radical Leftist Terrorist Group Rebel Responsible for Attack on Greenham City Hall Late Thursday evening, during a joint press conference held by the Greenham Police Department and Homeland Security, Police Chief Geoff Holden announced that Rebel, a radical leftist feminist terrorist organization, has taken responsibility for the bombing of the Greenham City Hall on Wednesday, October 6th. Though many already speculated the involvement of this terrorist group, this officially confirms those theories. Law enforcement did not share any statement made by the group, if there was one, but did confirm that the attack was politically motivated by recent social policy legislation regarding the rights of women under twenty-eight. This is not the first such attack committed by Rebel. Early this past August, they claimed responsibility for a series of robberies against pharmacies in and around the nation’s capital, during which they focused on stealing products such as muscle relaxants, benzodiazepines, others sedatives, and newly FDA approved therapy drug diuranuretine. They have also left their signature at the site of countless acts of vandalism, theft, and property damage. Clearly, however, this newest attack marks a stark escalation of their tactics. Rebel is believed to be one of the newest splinter groups of The Vantez Collective, a seemingly national organization whose stated purpose is “radical Marxist action through feminist solidarity.” These splinter groups, which are widely believed to be originating out of institutes of higher education and likely led by students who have been radicalized by leftist propaganda in the classroom, have been appearing around the country at an increasing rate over the past 18 months. At this time, it is believed that there are likely over two dozen chapters of The Vantez Collection who, collectively, have been connected to 67 acts of terrorism across the country over the past year. However, despite its rising membership, there have only been four arrests of known members for crimes in conjunction with the group’s terrorist acts. An inside source suggests that this trend is unlikely to change, despite Police Chief Geoff Holden’s insistence at the press conference that they were “aggressively following several leads [he] believes will lead to multiple arrests and convictions.” Our anonymous insider tells a different story, however, claiming that, at this time, all leads have gone cold. … CON’T PG 18. Chapter Four The two walked on eggshells around each other for the rest of the day. They were snowed in, and the house wasn’t particularly large; try as they might, they couldn’t quite escape each other. Their snow day extended into Friday, and with new snowfall early Saturday morning, the roads remained impassable until late on Sunday. Tensions mounted, but thankfully never broke. By Monday, Rei couldn’t wait to leave for school. Rei had school every day, Monday from Friday. Unlike many college students who tried to cram their classes into the same days to reduce the number of days they had classes, Rei liked to spread hers out. Her mom allowed her to take four classes. So, she had one class that met on Mondays and Wednesdays in the mornings and a second that afternoon, and her third and fourth mirrored that on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but her second class also had a lab period that met on Friday. This way, Rei could arrive on campus early in the morning, and spend the whole day there and away from her house. To add to Rei’s excitement to get to school that morning, her Monday morning class was her favorite: Introduction to Gender Politics and Feminist Theory with Professor Natalie Lewis. So, Rei was slightly surprised that Monday morning to find that her mind kept wondering. Try as hard as she could, she couldn’t pay attention to a word Professor Lewis was saying. Her mom wanted her to trade college for an extended high school program, where she’d learn to be a housewife and stay at home mom. Rei’s soul retched at the thought. Rei’s mother had never exactly been progressive, but Rei still couldn’t believe she seemed to be buying into this Hayes Act bullshit. But Rei knew she was lucky. Rei knew things could be so much worse. Last year, before The Hayes Act, Rei had gotten used to her classes being pretty evenly split in regard to gender, but now Rei sat in the back right corner in a group of the only six girls amongst nearly twenty boys. In front of her was Jennifer Duffy; from behind, Rei could easily see the crinkled waistband of her diaper sticking out above her skirt. To Jennifer’s left was Melanie Wright; Rei could see a spare pull-up sticking out of her purse. Behind Melanie, directly to Rei’s left, was Becca Thompson, who crinkled every time she shifted in her seat—of course, she had already been in pull-ups when Rei took a class with her last year, so that was hardly surprising. Rei knew things could be so much worse. “Rei?” Hearing her voice shook her out of her thoughts and she suddenly realized everyone around her was getting up. She must have missed Professor Lewis dismissing the class. “Rei?” The voice repeated, “May I see you?” It was Professor Lewis. Rei nodded in response and slowly began to collect her things, waiting for everyone to filter out. When the last person left, Professor Lewis closed the door behind them and walked over to Rei, saying nothing until she was sitting in the desk Melanie Wright had only recently vacated. “Everything okay at home?” She said at last. Rei nodded, “I mean, I guess, why?” “I checked my email this morning to find an email from your mom asking me to confirm you were with me Wednesday night.” “She doesn’t suspect anything,” Rei responded after a beat. “You sure?” “Yeah, she’s just…worried college is putting crazy ideas in my head,” Rei snickered. “Wouldn’t that be terrible,” Professor Lewis replied wryly. “Well, I’ll confirm the story, of course.” “Anything else?” Rei asked, sensing that there was, well, something else. Professor Lewis sighed, “she asked me how much I teach about politics in my class.” “Fuck.” “I take it you don’t tell your mom much about this class?” Rei grimaced, “She thinks it’s an English class.” “Ouch,” Professor Lewis flinched. “What did you tell her?” “I haven’t replied yet, but…legally, you’re a child, I can’t keep my lesson plans away from your mother if she asks for them.” “I know.” “I’ll try to downplay it and hope she doesn’t press it, okay? I just wanted you to have the heads up.” “Thanks, Professor.” “Yeah,” she sighed and frowned. “How bad is this going to be for you?” “I don’t know,” Rei replied. She genuinely didn’t know. She had been a little surprised by how complacent her mother had been about The Hayes Act. She knew her mother didn’t think going to college was a good choice, but she never would have imagined that her mother would try to push her into an extended high school program. But, then again, she never imagined there would be extended high school programs until there were. The room was filled with silence for a few moments before it was finally broken by a middle-aged man barging through the door. “Oh!” He exclaimed as he saw the pair, “Natalie, I’m sorry, are you still using the room? I have class in here shortly.” “Oh, yes, sorry, Professor Winston, we were just wrapping up, please go ahead.” The two professors exchanged a few more pleasantries as Professor Lewis packed away her class materials into her purse and passed off the desk to Professor Winston. Rei waited for her and walked with her out the door when she did. “I’ll do the best I can,” Professor Lewis said once they were in the hall, “but…” “I understand,” Rei replied. “Have a good day, Professor Lewis, and thank you for the heads up.” Chapter Five It was early afternoon, and the campus cafeteria was a bustle of activity. But Rei was oblivious to it all, sitting alone in one of the booths with her forehead against the floor to ceiling windows that took up the whole wall on one side of the cafeteria. She stared out at what was usually an outdoor seating area for students to enjoy their lunch in the open air but was now just a lumpy expanse of brilliant white. She anticipated a text from her mother at any moment, perhaps demanding that Rei come home at once for immediate transferal to an extended high school program, perhaps worse. But it hadn’t come yet. “Hey.” School, and specifically college, was the only thing that made Rei feel like an adult anymore, and it was a feeling she was clinging to desperately. She knew a few years ago when the first state enacted their own version of The Hayes Act that things were getting bad, but she never imagined she’d see that kind of legislation passed on a federal level. She never imagined she’d have her adulthood and maybe her entire future ripped away from her so officiously. “Uhm, hello?” When Rei was a kid, people still told young girls they could be anything they wanted when they grew up. Now, Rei’s options were dwindling even as she sat there. “Hey, excuse me?” Rei practically jumped out of her skin at the voice that suddenly cut through her thoughts and jarred her back to reality. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but you seemed kind of lost in thought there.” Rei looked up at the girl talking to her. She wore black Doc Martens, black skinny jeans, and a ribbed black tank top under a too large flannel shirt. Sharp black eyeliner and matching lipstick made a strong contrast to her pale skin. Blue hair spilled out in curls from under a black beanie. The girl had a book tucked under one arm and was holding a lunch tray in her opposite hand. “Mind if I…?” The girl gestured to the bench across the booth from Rei. “Uhm, yeah, sure, sorry,” Rei stumbled over her words as she tried to clear the wreckage of her crashed train of thought. “You’re Rei, right?” The girl said as she sat down. “Yeah, um, how…?” Wait, suddenly the girl’s face clicked in Rei’s memory. She remembered seeing her in all the meetings leading up to Wednesday night. No, that wasn’t right, she had been leading those meetings. The girl smiled knowingly and nodded her head, recognizing the look of revelation on Rei’s face. “Yeah, mutual friends, you know?” Rei nodded; she did know. “Sorry if I scared you,” the girl repeated as she settled into her seat. “I just saw you over here by yourself and…well, there aren’t exactly a lot of empty seats,” she gestured towards the crowded cafeteria around them. “Hope you don’t mind.” “No,” Rei smiled weakly and shook her head. She was digging desperately through her memory to find this girl’s name, “I don’t mind at all.” “Everything okay?” The girl popped a french fry into her mouth. “You seemed pretty deep in thought when I came up.” “Yeah, I’m okay, just…a lot on my mind, you know?” It seemed rude to have to ask her name when she clearly knew Rei’s. “Yeah? You doing okay after…last week?” Rei noticed the girl’s fingernails were painted black as well as she watched the girl fumble to open a packet of BBQ sauce. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know, it’s okay I guess.” The girl squirted out a puddle of BBQ sauce, dipped another fry in it, and crunched down on it. “Sounds less than ideal, if you ask me. Wanna talk about it?” Rei fidgeted in her seat. She knew she could trust this girl—she knew she could trust any girl that had been involved with Wednesday night—but it felt weird to unburden herself on someone who was still, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. She didn’t even know her name, for god’s sake. So, instead, she just shook her head and said nothing. “Are you a freshman?” The girl asked after a few moments of awkward silence. “Sophomore,” Rei corrected, “you?” The blue-haired girl shrugged, “I don’t know anymore, I just keep taking classes, but this is my fourth year here.” “You don’t want to transfer to a four-year university?” The girl chuckled, “yeah, I mean, that would be ideal, but in this economy?” Both girls laughed at that, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness in both of their laughs. “Seriously though, I feel like I can do more good staying here, you know? Helping freshmen and sophomores…get involved, you know?” “Have you been…involved for long?” “Founding member,” her black lips stretched out in a proud smile. “Of course, we didn’t know how far things would go when we started, but…well, a lot has changed since I was a freshmen.” “No kidding.” Neither girl knew quite where to take the conversation from there, so an awkward silence slowly began to form. Rei turned her attention to the crowd filling the cafeteria. Just like her classroom demographic, what was pretty evenly split last year was now dominated by boys. Perhaps more importantly, there was very little inter-mingling. The boys in this school were all over eighteen, legal adults, whereas most of the girls were under twenty-eight, legal children. They occupied different worlds. As Rei watched, Jennifer Duffy walked by the table Rei was sharing with the blue-haired girl. Rei wouldn’t exactly call Jennifer a friend, but they had done a group project together, so they weren’t exactly strangers either. Jennifer smiled behind her pacifier when she saw Rei and gave her a small wave before crinkling past them, her diaper sagging below the hemline of her pleated skirt. “Ugh,” the blue-haired girl said when Jennifer was out of ear shot, “kill me if I ever become like that, okay?” “I don’t know,” Rei shrugged, “she seems happy. Isn’t that what feminism is supposed to be about? Giving people the freedom to pursue the life that makes them happy?” “Yeah, of course, but do you think she would have chosen that if she hadn’t been coerced by her parents and the media and all the other brainwashing, metaphorical and literal, out there? She’s happy because she doesn’t know better; she’s assimilated into the hegemonic order.” Rei chewed on that for a moment. “Mom always tells me she just wants me to be happy,” Rei said, surprising herself with her sudden openness, “but she doesn’t seem to like…I don’t know, she says she wants me to happy, and I say school makes me happy, and she says, like, ‘no, not that way,’ ya know?” The girl nodded sympathetically throughout Rei’s mini tirade. “Like she wants you to be happy but thinks she knows what will make you happy better than you do?” “Yes, exactly!” “I’ve talked to a lot of girls in that situation,” the girl said, dragging a fry through her BBQ puddle absently. “I think their mothers genuinely mean well most of the time. I think a lot of them are just afraid for us and, frankly, afraid to stand up for us. So, we have to stand up for ourselves and each other, and that’s what we are doing.” Rei nodded, there was some sense to that. There was a lot of sense to that. “What about your parents?” Rei asked. “Well, my father is a misogynistic piece of shit,” she replied with no small amount of disdain in her voice. “My mother left him a few years ago when all this started to happen and he made it clear he thought this whole movement was the best for everyone. If he had his way, I’d probably be sitting in one of those pre-schools for young adult girls right now, but, thankfully, Mom ditched his ass.” “So, your mom doesn’t buy into any of this?” “Nu uh,” the girl shook her head, “she’s pretty progressive; signed the emancipation paperwork and everything.” “Oh, you’re emancipated?” Rei felt a pang of jealousy. Emancipation didn’t protect girls their age entirely from the new laws; it could be revoked by the state for various infractions and by your parents at any time for any reason. But it meant not needing parental permission to attend college; it meant getting some of your adult privileges back. “Yeah, thankfully.” The girl wiped her fingers on a paper napkin and laid it gently over the remains of her lunch. “What about your parents? You said your mom isn’t happy about you being in college, but you’re here, so they can’t be that bad, right?” “For now,” Rei responded sourly. “What do you mean?” “I mean I barely got my mom to agree to let me keep attending college after they passed The Hayes Act. Now, she wants me to think about going to one of those extended high school programs.” The girl scoffed, “housewife classes.” “Yes, exactly!” “What about your dad?” “Oh, he, uh, passed away.” “Oh,” the girl seemed taken aback, “I’m sorry to hear that.” “It’s okay; it happened when I was a kid. Cancer.” “That sucks; I’m sorry.” “Thanks, but it really is okay. I don’t know what he would have thought of all this, to be honest; maybe I’m lucky he’s not around.” It was not the first time Rei had considered what her father’s stance would have been on the events that had transpired since his death, but she was ten years old when he passed, she didn’t exactly know his political views. “Well,” the girl replied after a beat, “at least your mom sounds pretty reasonable. I mean, housewife classes would suck for sure, but it could be worse.” Rei thought back to Jennifer Duffy. “Yeah, I don’t think my mom would ever go that far, thankfully.” “Well, look,” the girl said as she picked up her phone and checked the time, “I’ve gotta run to my next class, but it was really fun talking to you, Rei.” “Yeah, you too, thanks for the company,” and Rei meant it. Her discussion with this girl hadn’t fixed anything, but it had distracted her from her impending doom and inexplicably made her feel better. “We should do this again,” the girl said as she gathered up her stuff, “or…maybe you might want to text me?” It was the first time the girl had sounded anything less than 100% confident. “Yeah? I, uh, think I’d like that,” Rei replied. “Awesome,” the girl smiled and pulled out a binder and a purple pen from her bag, scribbled something on the corner of a piece of paper, tore it off, and passed it across the table to Rei. “Don’t be shy, okay?” And then she was rushing off. Rei smiled as she watched the girl go, then looked down at this piece of paper. The girl’s ten-digit phone number was written out in impeccable handwriting. Underneath that was one word written in flowing cursive script: Riley.

Favorite writer? 🥺🥰🫠 thank you so much! The spysoftware was really great! I really like his Vantez Collective pieces, which, as you can probably already tell, have a huge influence on this story. Thanks for reading! I hope you contine to share your thoughts!

Hello All! It's been a while since I've posted a new story, but I'm back with a project I'm very excited about! "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" is the story of Rei Akiyama, a young girl trying to navigate through life in a near future dystopia where the age of majority has been raised to 28 for girls and regressive behavioral therapy has become popular to help girls adjust to these new laws. The world this story is set in is very strongly inspired by/based on the world building of Alteredstates, so a lot of credit goes to him! For those unfamiliar with Alteredstates, he does world building through ad copy and other cultural artifacts. While you don't need to be familiar with his work to understand and appreciate this story, I strongly recommend you check it out! Not only because it will help you immerse yourself in this world, but also because it's genuinely really good! You can find him on Tumblr, Twitter, and Patreon! Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first two chapters of "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" Prologue The night of Wednesday, October 4th, 2028, was unseasonably cold in the city of Greenham; snow was in the forecast for the next day in a city that rarely saw a snowflake until at least January. By 7:28PM, there were already flurries dancing through the cold wind that whipped through the dumpsters behind City Hall, where John Bennet, the head of City Hall security, stood with his foot propping open the emergency exit of the east stairwell. He blew out a lungful of smoke as he dropped his cigarette on the pavement below and crushed it beneath his shoe. John was nothing if not a creature of habit; so much so that, if one cared to be so observant, they could predict exactly what time John would take the last smoke break of his shift before he did his final sweep of the building. He would then go home to his shabby apartment. That night, however, was different. That night, John wouldn’t be going home; he would be meeting a 28-year-old girl he had met on the internet. That night, John’s phone rang just as he was about to go back inside. He fished his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he saw his date’s name on the caller ID, and swiped his finger across the screen as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, trying to sound smooth, “I can’t wait to see you.” On the other end of the phone, a young-sounding voice poured honeyed words into his ear as he turned and walked back into the building. Another night, under less distracting circumstances, John would have almost certainly noticed that the door never clicked closed behind him, but the telling silence was lost amongst the words that sent his blood pumping. In a bar a few miles away, Edward Cook was ordering a drink for a girl who looked too young to be there. The girl blushed as she slid her ID and emancipation card across the counter at the bartender’s request, brushing her blue hair behind her ear to look coyly at Edward out of the corner of her eye as she did. Edward never even noticed the girl on the other side of him, or her hand as she slipped a hard plastic card at the end of a black lanyard out of his suit jacket pocket. The card, printed with Edward’s picture and the seal of the Office of Juvenile Affairs, disappeared into the girl’s clutch purse as she quietly slipped away from the bar. She checked the time on her phone as she stepped out into the frosty night: 7:34PM. Elsewhere, the number 9 county bus was pulling over for an unscheduled stop due to a disturbance on the bus involving three young girls. The driver, Richard Lawson, broke up the altercation with the help of another passenger and removed the girls from the bus. That taken care of, an exasperated Richard reported the incident to dispatch, who noted the number 9 bus was running ten minutes behind but was resuming his route at 7:47PM. Back at the courthouse, John, having finished his final sweep of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary, put the finishing touches on his security logs for the night and leaned back in his chair, eyes sweeping over the bank of CCTV monitors that showed snapshots of the interior of the courthouse. It was, however, the clock that John was truly focused on, his eyes constantly flicking between it and the monitors. The moment those numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00PM, John pushed himself out of his chair and jabbed his finger at the button that caused all of the monitors to wink out simultaneously. Had he waited just a minute longer, he might have seen the black garbed figures slip in from the emergency exit in the east stairwell. He could have watched as they crept up that staircase and slipped into second floor hallway. Another camera would have shown the figures slink down the hallway, past the Permits Office and the Office of Parks and Recreation. On a third camera, the figures stopped in front of a frosted glass door with Office of Juvenile Affairs printed across it in thick, black block letters. One of the figures swiped a card by the panel next to the door, the light turned from red to green, and the figures quickly disappeared through the door. Later, security logs would be pulled showing Edward Cook had accessed the office at 8:04PM; the subsequent investigation would find Cook was not guilty of any direct involvement but would still lose his position on the grounds of gross negligence. By 8:15PM, Greenham City Hall was silent and empty. At 8:17PM, the number 9 county bus blew past the empty bus stop at the far end of the City Hall parking lot. On an ordinary night, Richard would typically idle at this station for a few minutes, but he was working hard to make up for lost time. The next few stops were just as empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of night on a weekday. It was 8:34PM when the bus pulled up to the stop at Greenham Community College, where three girls and four boys boarded the bus, all of them in their late teens and early twenties. Richard Lawson wouldn’t even think to mention this to investigators later, though they likely would have made nothing of it if he had. By 8:50PM, the city of Greenham, a suburb of the nation’s capital city, was settling into its slumber. A few bars and restaurants were still pouring drinks for late night clientele, but curfew was quickly approaching and all those affected were either already home or else rushing to get there. At 8:54PM, the electric engine of the number 9 county bus was humming along through the streets of one such sleepy neighborhood, empty but for Ricard Lawson and a small handful of passengers: a young girl with black hair and tawny skin carrying a bookbag tight to her chest, two boys with their feet on the seats laughing raucously in the back of the bus, and a mother and a daughter riding together. Richard glanced up at the passengers in his rearview mirror and caught the eye of the daughter. She had bright blue eyes, a practical waterfall of golden curls, and looked to be in her early twenties. Richard smiled at the girl in the mirror; he had to admit, she was adorable in her pink shirt and plaid skirtall. She smiled back at him from behind the shield of her pacifier. The mother turned away from the book in her hand and leaned over the girl, slipping one hand up the girl’s skirtall. Richard quickly averted his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was invading their privacy. “Oh, Rebecca,” the older woman sighed quietly, but still loud enough to be heard easily on the otherwise silent bus, “your pull-up is soaked; did you even know you had to go?” The girl’s smile disappeared into her blush as she mumbled some words from behind her pacifier. The mother chuckled. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she ruffled her daughter’s hair, “we’re almost home! Then we can get you changed into your nighttime diapers and feed you a nice bottle before bed, would you like that?” She booped her daughter’s nose and sent the girl into a fit of laughter. The black-haired girl shifted in her seat across from the mother and daughter, obviously trying to avoid looking at them. She glanced at her phone, 9:52PM. Richard Lawson shifted in his seat and tried to ignore the cooing and giggling going on behind him. Little single-family homes passed by as he made his way down Ridgemont Street, and only more in sight as he turned right down Wrighton Square. The bell dinged and Richard slowly pressed the brake, bringing the bus to a stop at the corner or Wrighton and Central Lake Drive. Richard wished his passengers a good night, stay safe, as they all got off. Glancing back in his rearview mirror to confirm the bus was empty, Richard slowly accelerated into the night. Peter Grant watched the bus pull away from the front seat of his Greenham Police Department Cruiser. He scanned the passengers leaving the bus stop. Two young men cross the street and kept walking up Wrighton Square while three women started walking up Central Lake Drive and toward his cruiser. He checked his clock: 9:56, damn near too late for young women to be out alone. “Let’s check it out,” he said to his partner, Dave Clusky, as he stepped out of the cruiser and started crossing the street towards the trio. As Peter approached, the women were backlit by a streetlamp, but he could make out the vaguely feminine shapes of three women. Two of them walked side by side as the third, at least a few inches shorter than the other two, walked a couple of feet behind. Peter raised his flashlight, “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out officiously as the beam of light cut through the night, bringing the slowly drifting flakes of snow into heavy contrast. The three ladies stopped in their tracks. The shorter of the two in front whimpered behind her pacifier and clung to the older woman next to her as they both blinked against the light. The girl behind them gasped inaudibly and stared ahead like a deer in headlights for a moment before raising a hand to protect her eyes from the worst of the light. “Evening, ma’am,” Peter nodded to the older woman, “these your children?” The woman glanced behind her, then back to Peter, “just this one,” she replied, squeezing Rebecca close to her. Peter nodded, “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Best get your little one inside, it looks to be about her bedtime.” The mother laughed politely, “yes, we’ve had a very long day, thank you, officer.” She tugged on Rebecca’s hand and quietly urged the girl on. Peter swept his flashlight over a few degrees to focus his beam on the girl in the white button up shirt and plaid suspender skirt. “Could you lower your hand, miss? How old are you?” “Uhm, nineteen,” she replied nervously, “I know it’s—” “It’s almost curfew,” Peter interrupted her, “you allowed to be out past curfew?” “Um, no, sir, I—” “Yeah, didn’t think so. What’s your name? What are you doing out so late?” “Um, Rei, sir, and I’m coming home from college, sir, I was—” “College?” Dave chimed in, “you got parental permission for that?” “Yes, sir, and I—” “What were you doing at college this late?” Peter asked. “You go to Greenham CC?” “Yes, sir, I was studying—” “Studying,” Dave scoffed, “yeah, right.” “I was, sir, I have—” “You got a pass from your professor?” Peter asked. “Yes, sir, it’s—” “Well?” Dave said impatiently. “Let’s see it,” Peter demanded. “Yes, sir,” the girl reached into her backpack and produced a folded sheet of paper that was immediately snatched out of her hand. “Professor Lewis? English?” Peter read key words off the piece of paper before handing it off to Dave. Dave looked the sheet over, made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, then handed it back to Peter. “Looks legit” “You know it’s almost curfew, kid?” Peter turned back towards the girl, thrusting the paper back at her. “Yes, sorry, I was—” “Yeah, you were at college, you said. You live close by?” “Yes, sir, I—” “Where at?” “Just up the street,” she raised her hand and pointed behind Peter. “Uh huh,” Peter sounded skeptical. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 9:59PM. “Think you can get home before curfew hits, little girl?” He smiled maliciously. The girl’s knees went weak; she clutched her bag to her chest as if it could protect from him the malice in his smile. Her vision tunneled in on the face of Peter Grant and the world around her sounded like it was moving through water. Tick. 10:00PM. As curfew went into effect all over Greenham and it’s surrounding townships, the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall exploded outward, raining fire and rubble into it’s expansive parking lot. The sound of the explosion tore through the still night air, audible as a low rumbling miles away on Central Lake Drive. A portion of the horizon of the night sky lit up. “The fuck…?” Peter cursed. “Fuck me!” Dave swore. The girl let out a quiet yelp and resisted the urge to make a break for it. Silence filled the air in the aftermath of the explosion, and then the radios on Dave and Peter’s shoulders started squawking. They completely forgot about the girl as they scrambled back to their cruiser. Chapter One Snowflakes were melting in Rei Akiyama’s hair as she slumped against the front door of her house. She was still shaking and trying to steady her breath. “You’re late,” a voice said from the living room. “I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Rei said, still panting slightly as she took her shoes off before entering the room. “The bus was running late; I ran all the way here from the bus stop.” Ms. Akiyama made a sound in her throat as she looked her daughter up and down. “You were studying? Let me see your pass.” “Yes, Mom,” Rei said as she pulled out the now slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her bag and handed it over. “You’re working too hard in school,” Ms. Akiyama said matter-of-factly. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re home,” she discarded the paper on the end table, “I was starting to get worried when I heard that rumbling. Did you hear that?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei nodded and chewed on her lip, unsure what else to say on the topic. “Rei, stop chewing your lip, it’s a bad nervous habit.” “Yes, Mom, sorry.” Rei forced herself to stop and instead just looked down at her shoes. “Well?” Ms. Akiyama asked expectantly a moment later. “It’s almost bedtime; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? The news said we were supposed to get a few inches of snow, so school will probably be cancelled tomorrow, but I want you in bed on time just in case, okay?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei replied. She tried her best not to turn and run up the stairs, but instead walked casually up them as if it had just been a normal night of studying. Her mother watched her go, sensing something was off about her daughter, but she was unable to put her finger on what, exactly, she was sensing. Rei stopped briefly at the top of the stairs, turned back, and gave a small smile and wave when she saw her mother was still watching, then disappeared around the corner. Ms. Akiyama sighed quietly: what was she going to do with that girl? She was worried what kind of ideas her school was filling her head with, and Rei being out all-night studying didn’t do anything to allay that worry. Picking up the pass Rei had given her, Ms. Akiyama turned and settled back down on the couch. According to the pass, Rei had been working on her midterm essay for English with Professor Lewis. Sighing once more, she set the note aside, making a mental note to ask Rei what she was writing her essay about (maybe that would give her a clue on exactly what kind of idea’s the school was filling Rei’s head with), and turned her attention back to the TV where a mature looking woman was smiling back at her while holding a colorful package. “That why I decided to try new Pampers Overnight Diapers! They are expertly designed for girls who wet the bed,” as the woman delivered the line, she reached her free hand out the side and pulled a young girl of about eight or ten into the frame and into a side hug, “and those who don’t,” the camera pulled out and panned over to reveal an older girl about Rei’s age staring distractedly at her phone seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, “yet,” the mother added after a beat and punctuated it with a wink. Upstairs, Rei leaned against the wall, just out of sight, focusing on getting her breathing back to normal. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but, so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it stayed that way. Rei pushed herself away from the wall and made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom, closing her door behind her just as downstairs the TV alerted her mother to breaking news. As Ms. Akiyama was stunned to hear of the bombing just a few miles from her, Rei was tossing her backpack on the floor next to her desk and throwing herself face down on her bed. She was slightly dazed and more than exhausted. Part of her couldn’t believe the events of the night. Yes, they had been making plans for weeks now, she had known this night was coming, but now that it was done…it felt surreal. She was terrified of what would come next. Still, there was one more thing she had to do before this night was over. Rei crept back to her bedroom door, listened carefully, then cracked the door ever so slightly. The distant sounds of the TV still drifted up the stairs and the hallway was empty. Closing the door silently, she rushed across the carpet in socked feet to her desk, which, looking back over her shoulder towards the door, she inched away from the wall. Kneeling down, Rei reached behind the desk and pried off a piece of the baseboard to reveal a small crevice between the wall and the floor from which Rei produced a cell phone at least a decade old. It was black with a silver lined screen and a numeric keyboard. Rei brought up the messaging app only to be greeted with over a dozen texts; each was from a different number, but they all said the same thing: “home safe.” She sighed with relief, painstakingly typed out her own missive (“home safe”) on the numeric keyboard and pressed send before immediately replacing the phone in its hiding place and putting everything back in order. Now, Rei thought, it was time to get ready for bed. Chapter Two “It was confirmed early this morning that there were no casualties or injuries in last night’s explosion at the Greenham City Hall, which occurred at exactly 10PM and destroyed most of the building’s eastern half. While authorities have yet to make any statements regarding the cause of the explosion, many are already speculating that this was an act of domestic terrorism committed by the radical leftist feminist group Rebel in response to recent social policy legislation restricting the rights of women under twenty-eight. Supporters of this theory have been quick to point out that the offices of the newly established Office of Juvenile Affairs, which was formed to enforce these new policies, was located in the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall. We’ll be sure to bring you all the breaking details on this story as it develops. Back to you in the studio, Steve.” As the news switched back to less interesting stories, Ms. Akiyama turned her attention away from the tablet propped up on the kitchen counter and back to the cast iron skillet in front of her where the pancakes were beginning to form bubbles along the edge of the batter. She flipped them with the kind of perfection that only came with years of practice and shook her head, it was just terrible what had happened. She knew some people thought the new laws were going too far, but surely bombing buildings was going just as far, if not further. No, it wasn’t the proper way to go about voicing dissent at all. And if this was the kind of stuff feminism was preaching these days, maybe there was some sense to these new laws. Certainly they didn’t teach girls to behave that way when she was younger. Ms. Akiyama just prayed Rei’s head wasn’t being filled with this kind of stuff at that college she had begged so hard to go to. Maybe it wasn’t too late to put her in a vocational school; with a little discipline, Rei could make an excellent secretary. Or maybe she could get Rei a job working at a daycare; Rei always liked children, and maybe tapping into Rei’s maternal instincts was just what was needed to make sure she stayed on the right path. Or, there was always… No, no, Ms. Akiyama shoved that thought away. Rei was a good kid; a bit headstrong, but a good kid, surely that option was too drastic. Ms. Akiyama sighed as she stacked the pancakes on the steadily growing pile; she just wanted Rei to be safe and have a nice, happy life. She didn’t want her daughter falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in trouble. It wasn’t easy raising a daughter in such complicated times. Ms. Akiyama was still musing on such matters when Rei shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, almost instinctively following the smell of pancakes. “Pancakes?” Rei asked hopefully. “Does that mean school is canceled?” Mom typically never made pancakes on weekdays. “It sure does,” Ms. Akiyama replied cheerfully, trying to hide the somber mood the news had put her in. “Have you looked outside? We got quite a lot of snow!” Rei grinned and rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room and its bay window overlooking their front yard and the street beyond. Everything was white and brilliantly bright in the morning sun, covered in what must have been at least five or six inches of snow. Even the road was covered; it seemed like the snowplows hadn’t made it to their neighborhood yet. Rei couldn’t help but stare out the window in wonderment; she had always loved the snow. There was just something magical about it. Behind her, Ms. Akiyama leaned against the door frame and grinned. When it came to snow, kids were always kids. “Come on,” Ms. Akiyama said after giving Rei a few moments to take in the wintery spread, “the pancakes are getting cold.” She turned and headed back in to the kitchen without checking to make sure Rei was following her. The news was once again talking about last night’s incident, so Ms. Akiyama quickly turned it off as she grabbed the plate of pancakes; she didn’t want to upset Rei with such terrible news first thing in the morning. “So,” Ms. Akiyama said as she set the plate of pancakes on the table and Rei settled into her seat, “you were working on an essay with your professor last night?” She grabbed the syrup from the fridge before settling into her own seat. “Um, yeah,” Rei responded simply as she loaded her plate with pancakes, “my midterm essay,” she added after a moment. “Oh, that’s nice,” Ms. Akiyama passed the syrup across the table and took a couple pancakes off the stack for herself. “What’s it about?” “Um,” Rei was drenching her pancakes in syrup, “well, it’s…well, our professor gave us some articles to choose from and we just have to like respond to one of them.” “Interesting, what kind of articles?” “Just, you know, current events stuff.” “Uh-huh, and what article did you choose?” Sure, Ms. Akiyama was testing the waters, trying to see what kind of stuff Rei was learning at school, but, to her credit, she was genuinely interested in her daughter’s life. Rei, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Her mother didn’t usually ask her this many questions about her schoolwork. Rei liked that her mother didn’t ask her about her schoolwork. Rei thought the less her mother asked about her schoolwork, the better. Why was her mother suddenly interested? She thought about lying, but if her mother asked to see the essay, she’d be caught immediately. “Well, just about…about the passing of The Hayes Act…” “Oh, I see.” Rei shoveled a too large bite of pancakes into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Oh, I see? What did that mean? Rei tried to smile around the bite of pancakes, but her eyes were searching her mother’s face for anything that might hint to her true reaction. Ms. Akiyama worked to keep her face as passive as possible, raising her cup and taking a long, slow sip of coffee to help her efforts. She had barely discussed the act with her daughter since its passage six months ago. She hadn’t needed to much, and it had always felt like such a…touchy subject. “Why did you choose that article?” Ms. Akiyama asked, trying hard to sound casual but interested and definitely non-confrontational. Just a mom interested in her daughter’s schoolwork. Rei speared a hunk of pancake with her fork and cut it away from the rest with her knife, “Um, I just thought the article was interesting,” she spoke with her head down, giving her voice a muffled quality. “What was the article about?” Ms. Akiyama knew Rei had strong feelings about The Hayes Act, and she couldn’t blame her. Rei had turned nineteen a month before the law had passed; she had been an adult for thirteen months when she once again became a child in the eyes of the law for another nine years. Of course, Ms. Akiyama understood why her daughter felt so strongly about it; she respected Rei’s passion, but she wished Rei could accept that there was nothing that could be done. She wished Rei could just accept that the world wasn’t what her mother had promised it would be she told Rei she could grow up to be whatever she wanted. “Just,” Rei shrugged, “I guess the author was talking about how it shouldn’t have passed and stuff…” The two were in a minefield; they both knew it. Neither wanted this to end in an explosion, but one couldn’t leave, and the other couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Oh,” Ms. Akiyama said, “do you talk about that kind of stuff a lot in school?” The last time they had discussed The Hayes Act had been when it had come time for Rei to enroll in her second year at Greenham Community College. With Rei then legally a child, she needed Ms. Akiyama’s permission to continue attending college. Ms. Akiyama could have stopped her; she had certainly been tempted to do it. Rei shrugged, “What do you mean ‘that kind of stuff’?” “Stuff like The Hayes Act? Politics?” “I guess, sometimes.” “What kind of stuff do they teach you about it?” Rei shrugged, “I mean, they just like…explain how it came to be. Historically, you know?” “I see.” Ms. Akiyama could sense her daughter getting…defensive? Evasive? She was certainly becoming something. Maybe it was time to pump the brakes. “I just worry,” Ms. Akiyama said, genuinely thinking it would help defuse the situation. “Worried?!” Rei said a little too loudly, “there’s nothing to worry about, Mom!” “It’s just…I hear a lot these days about what kinds of things colleges are teaching and—” “Mo-om!” “—and I don’t want them filling your head with the wrong kinds of ideas, that’s all!” “Mom, they are not…brainwashing me, okay?” “I didn’t say brainwashing, okay? I just hear what kinds of things colleges teach these days, that’s all,” Ms. Akiyama repeated. Rei slumped in her chair. Her mom had managed to ruin pancakes. “I just want you to be happy,” Ms. Akiyama said after a long, awkward pause. She reached across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “College just makes things harder for most girls these days, and, besides, you study so much, it’s not good for you.” “But I like school, Mom. It makes me happy.” “Well, why don’t we sign you up for one of those extended high school for girls programs?” Ms. Akiyama smiled, genuinely thinking it would be a good suggestion. “Ugh, Mom,” Rei withdrew her hand and shot her mother a withering look, “those are just housewife classes.” “There’s nothing wrong with that, Rei!” “I’m not saying there is,” Rei protested, “it’s just not what I want to do.” “I know, you want to be a teacher, but I just don’t…well…you can’t be a teacher for another nine years, what if by then they don’t let women be teachers anymore?” A silence fell over the room as both mother and daughter felt the weight of that thought. It was a legitimate concern. “I don’t know, Mom,” Rei said at last, sounding crestfallen. “But what am I supposed to do?” Ms. Akiyama frowned. Like most mothers, deep down she just wanted her child to be happy. Part of her really wished her child could have her dream, but most of her knew it simply wasn’t meant to be and there was nothing that could change that. Most of her just wanted to help Rei find another way to be happy. Without a word, Ms. Akiyama rose from the table and cleared their plates. Breakfast was clearly over. On her way out of the kitchen, she lightly ruffled Rei’s hair, “Go on,” she said, “enjoy your snow day, okay? But just…think about the extended high school program?” Rei nodded.

I love that y'all are debating the ethics of the relationship regarding the professional power dynamic between these two XD I won't offer much in either direction, but I can tell you from experience that the relationship between a doctoral student and their advisor is much closer to that of colleagues than a traditional student/professor relationship--hell, I once made weed brownies while on a video call with my advisor, and yes, they knew exactly what I was doing. Oftentimes, your advisor isn't even an expert on your dissertation topic, but rather just an expert in a related field or in a school of theory that's critical to your dissertation. So it's definitely a very murky topic. But, of course, ultimately our judgements do not matter as the fate of our protagonist is in the hands of Dr. Delores Abernathy. So, with that, I present to you the conclusion: Chapter Thirty I wrung my hands nervously as I sat outside the director’s office, waiting for her to call me in. Who told? I knew it wasn’t Elyse. Or if it was, she was a much better liar than I would have ever given her credit for. Which is to say, I accused her, in very strong words, and she swore it wasn’t her. I don’t know why, she was the prime and only suspect, but I believed her. There had been a sincerity to her denial that I couldn’t ignore. So, who was it? Someone must have seen us. Another professor maybe, or another student. They must have seen us out together sometime this summer. We hadn’t been careful enough. But that means they probably don’t know for certain; we can deny everything. That was the plan. My relationship with Viv—I mean, Professor Devereux was strictly professional. Not a hint of impropriety. I had tried to call Vivian after I got off the phone with Dr. Abernathy, but she hadn’t answered. And she hadn’t answered any of my texts since then either. I was just sending another one, updating Vivian that I was about to talk to Dr. Abernathy and assuring her I would deny everything, when the door opened. “Ms. Fairchild? Come on in, please.” I stood up and followed Dr. Abernathy into her office. Dr. Abernathy was a short and round woman and frumpy looking in that quintessential eccentric professor kind of way. But she had a warm smile and kind eyes beneath her horn-rimmed glasses. Her office was cluttered with such a random assortment of knick-knacks that seemed a perfect match for her. “Please,” she said as she gestured to a seat in front of her desk, “have a seat.” Then she made her way around her desk and plopped down in her own chair. I took a seat but said nothing. “Well,” she began after spending a moment getting situated behind her desk, “I’m sorry we’re starting the semester off on such a…well, perhaps awkward is the best word, starting off with an awkward situation. But…” she raised her hands palm upwards, but didn’t finish the sentiment. Deny everything. “I’m not sure what situation you mean, Dr. Abernathy,” I said flatly. She pursed her lips slightly and looked at me, taking my measure. “Lavender,” she said finally, “I’m sure your instinct here is to protect yourself and perhaps even Professor Devereux, but…” she sighed and spread her upturned palms again, “I’m afraid the time for that is past. I’m well aware of the nature of your and Professor Devereux’s relationship.” I bit my lip. She seems…pretty sure… “At this point,” Dr. Abernathy continued when I didn’t respond, “denying the relationship is just going to make things…complicated.” I nodded, maybe she was right, I guess it depended on how much she actually knew. Maybe she’s bluffing; she’s trying to get you to admit it. “What…what happens next?” I asked neutrally, neither confirming nor denying. Dr. Abernathy chewed the inside of her cheek and looked at me from across her desk for a long, awkward moment. “I suppose, Lavender, that depends on you. I already have Professor Devereux’s account of things—” “You’ve already spoken with her?” I interrupted. Dr. Abernathy nodded, “Yes, of course, she’s already told me everything.” Everything? “Everything?” “Unless there’s something you’d like to add to or correct about her account of things.” “What’s…what’s her account of things?” “I’m more interested in your account of things, Ms. Fairchild.” This made things more complicated. What did they have on us that Vivian told them everything? And what, exactly, does everything entail? “Let’s try it this way,” Dr. Abernathy said, “what is the nature of your relationship with Professor Devereux?” “Professional,” I said immediately, then added, “…and romantic, I suppose,” I was beginning to understand that denial was not a viable strategy here, but maybe, just maybe, I could mitigate the damage. “Sexual?” Dr. Abernathy prompted. “Yes.” “And when did this relationship begin?” “Towards the end of the Spring Semester.” “Mhm,” Dr. Abernathy had taken out a notebook and was taking quick notes, “and…who instigated the relationship and under what terms?” “I…I’m not sure I understand what you mean by ‘under what terms.’” Dr. Abernathy set her pen down and looked at me, “Did Professor Devereux…promise you anything in exchange for your…affections?” “No,” I said adamantly, “not at all.” Dr. Abernathy sighed. “And who was the first to suggest the relationship become more than professional?” I thought hard about that before answering honestly, “I’m…not sure…” “So, at no time did Professor Devereux tell you that she would fail you if you didn’t sleep with her? At no point did she suggest that you would have to sleep with her to receive your doctorate from this program?” “No!” Anger was boiling in me, who the fuck had told Dr. Abernathy any of this? “None of that happened!” “Okay,” Dr. Abernathy said, “no need to get upset, Ms. Fairchild, I’m on your side here.” Your side? What does that mean? “Dr. Abernathy,” I said, feeling frustrated and exasperated, “I don’t know who told you about Professor Devereux’s and mine relationship, but that isn’t how it happened at all. I know what we did was wrong, but…it wasn’t anything like that, okay? Vivian—I mean, Professor Devereux has done nothing but push me to produce better work, to be the best student and scholar I can be, and she definitely didn’t do anything unethical!” My miniature outburst lingered in the quiet of the room as Dr. Abernathy stared at me from across her desk. Finally, she sighed and closed the notebook she had been taking notes in. “Lavender, I like you, I think you’re a very bright young woman who has a promising future in and beyond this program. So, with that in mind, I’m going to level with you perhaps more than I should. You’ve both admitted there was impropriety in the relationship between you and Professor Devereux, and I am now left in the position of needing to determine how improper and who is at fault. Now, Professor Devereux has told me this is how it happened—” Vivian told her? Vivian told her she exchanged my grades for sexual favors? Is that what she’s saying? “Dr. Abernathy,” I interrupted her again, having completely lost track of what she had been saying, “who…who told you about our relationship in the first place?” Dr. Abernathy sucked her teeth and looked contemplative, then nodded, “Professor Devereux did; she said she wanted to come clean before things got out on their own so she could make sure the narrative didn’t get twisted.” Vivian told her? Why though? My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t take a full breath. “Vivian…told you?” Dr. Abernathy nodded sympathetically. “Lavender,” she said softly, clearly picking up on the panic that was building inside of me, “this interview can wait, I can see how emotional you are, I understand this is a delicate matter. Get your head on straight, and we can talk about this again tomorrow maybe, okay?” I shook my head, “no, I want to talk about it now.” “Okay, so tell me what happened.” I shook my head again, “what happens now? You said…you said Vivian told you everything, so what happens now?” Dr. Abernathy sighed, “well, ordinarily, there would be an investigation to determine the exact nature and extent of the impropriety. Professor Devereux has tenure…had tenure…so that makes—” “Wait,” I interrupted for the third time, “had tenure? What happened? Are you…firing Vivian?” “Professor Devereux…resigned.” That hit me in the gut like a freight train. “She resigned?” Dr. Abernathy nodded, “She took full blame for everything and resigned. She seemed…invested in making sure there was no investigation, if I’m being honest. Wanted everything done and over with and out in the open and accepted that resigning was the only way that could happen.” “I…have to go, Dr. Abernathy,” I had to talk to Vivian. “Can we do this tomorrow?” Dr. Abernathy studied my face for a moment before nodding, “Lavender, off the record? I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but it seems like you’re both trying to protect the other one, and it’s only going to hurt both of you. Maybe…and if anyone asks, I actually recommended you do the opposite…but, maybe you should talk to Vivian and get your stories straight.” I nodded and stood up without another word, but stopped at the door and looked back, “what will happen to me?” “To you?” Dr. Abernathy repeated. “I guess it depends. If Professor Devereux did, in fact, promise you better grades in exchange for…whatever, then you’re the victim here. You’ll have to begin working with a new advisor who will go over the work Professor Devereux graded to make sure it’s up to the standards of the program; in the event that it doesn’t, we’ll give you a chance to bring it up to our standards. And if it does meet our standards, then that will be it, and you can just continue in the program as if nothing happened.” “And…my fellowship?” “Unaffected,” she said. I nodded, “thank you, Dr. Abernathy,” and left. Chapter Thirty-One “Lavender,” Vivian said with quiet surprise as I walked into the parlor, where I found her sitting with a book in her hands. “What…what are you doing here?” “What the fuck, Vivian?” I was trying not to shout, “Why did you tell Dr. Abernathy about us? Why did you tell her you coerced me into things by using my grades as leverage? Why did you fucking do it, Vivian?” Vivian gave me a level look throughout my little tirade, “I had to.” “Bullshit, you did.” “Elyse was going to tell.” “She wasn’t! She promised me she wouldn’t!” “Then it would have been someone else eventually! It was just a matter of time, Lavender, someone was going to find out. I just…wanted to protect you from it the best I could.” “I didn’t want to be protected,” I shot back, “I wanted you by my side!” Vivian lowered her gaze, “Lavender…” “You didn’t even talk to me before you did it, Vivian,” I was pacing angrily back and forth, “you didn’t talk to me, you didn’t warn me, you ignored me all morning, you…you…fuck!” “Lavender, I was…I was trying to protect us, please understand.” “We didn’t need to be protected! We could have dealt with this when and if it ever became a problem, but no, you just had to run off and out us! Do you…do you even want to be with me anymore?” Vivian’s head snapped up, panic in her eyes, “Lavender, yes, yes, of course I do, please don’t think for a second that I don’t want that, that’s why I did this, so we could be together!” “You have a funny way of showing it, Vivian,” I said sourly. “Lavender,” Vivian got up off the couch and swiftly closed the distance between us, taking my hands in hers, “Lavender, please, listen. I got scared, okay? Elyse catching us like that…I just got scared. And maybe she wasn’t going to tell, but it was inevitable that someone was going to find out. And what then? What if Elyse had walked in on something more incriminating than us eating Chinese together? What if Elyse had walked it while I was changing your diaper on the floor, huh? What would happen if someone else turned us in and there was an investigation into our relationship? What would they find? It could ruin my reputation, so much more than this will, and, more importantly, it could ruin yours before you really have a chance to establish one. Please, Lavender, I’m sorry I did this without consulting you, but I just wanted to protect you, so I lied, I made sure the blame was going to fall squarely on me. Please, tell me you understand.” I looked at Vivian, her words had melted my anger away and left me feeling…hollow, uncertain. “You should have talked to me first,” I said weakly. “Yes,” she agreed with a nod of her head, “I should have, I’m sorry I didn’t, please forgive me?” My shoulders slumped, and I nodded; how could I not forgive her? “Forgive me for bursting in here?” Vivian smiled and cupped my cheek, “of course, darling, of course.” I hugged Vivian, resting my head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” I said softly, “for protecting me.” I hadn’t asked her to protect me, and I hated that she had needed to, but I couldn’t deny that I was thankful. “Of course, darling, I wouldn’t very well deserve to be called Miss Vivian if I couldn’t protect my little girl, right?” I smiled, I still wasn’t happy with what Vivian had done, but I understood why she had done it, and it did mean we were now free to be together. “I love you, Miss Vivian.” “And I love you, my little Lavender.” The next day, I told Elyse I was moving out for good. Epilogue We were laughing as we both stumbled through the front door, each of us mutually supporting the other one. We were, to put it simply, not sober. “Welcome home, Dr. Fairchild,” Vivian giggled as she gestured to the house. “Why, thank you, Dr. Devereux,” I responded with faux-seriousness before breaking down into giggles. And then Vivian was staring warmly into my face, her hands holding me by the front of my graduation robes. “I’m so proud of you, my little Lavender.” I blushed deeply, “I couldn’t have done it without you, without your support and encouragement.” “Bullshit,” Vivian said with a giggle, “come here, okay?” She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me farther into the house to the full-length mirror that hung in our front hall. She placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing the mirror with Vivian looking over my shoulder. We looked gorgeous together. Vivian in a tight black dress with sheer tights and heels; me in my fancy doctoral regalia and silly little hat. “Look at you,” her expression was full of pride and admiration, “you’re a doctor now, and you did that all yourself, because you’re brilliant. You got your doctorate because you deserved it; I was just honored enough to get to be along for the ride. But this accomplishment? It’s all you, darling.” “Thank you,” I blushed under her praise. It had been a long, hard road, and whatever Vivian said, she had done more than just been along for the ride—she had been there to talk my ideas through, to give me confidence when mine began to flag, to make me coffee at eleven in the evening so I could keep working on my dissertation. It was my accomplishment, I was so proud of myself, and maybe I could have done it without Vivian, but I couldn’t have been happier that she had held my hand through it. “Thank you,” I said again, this time adding, “Miss Vivian.” Vivian smiled mischievously and began unzipping my robe, exposing the black sundress I had on underneath. “You know what I kept thinking while I was watching you up on that stage?” “What’s that?” “I kept thinking,” Vivian’s hand crept downward, clutching the hem of my dress and slowly raising it, “how mature and professional you looked up there, and how you looked so cute playing dress-up and pretending to be a big girl in front of everyone.” She pulled the hem of my dress up to my waist, showing off the quite obviously soaked diaper underneath my fishnets. Vivian reached around with her other hand and grabbed the crotch of my diaper, squishing it against my skin. “I kept thinking how no one knew you were wearing a wet diaper the whole time.” I bit my lip and leaned back in Vivian, “I wasn’t wet during the ceremony,” I whined…and lied. “So, I didn’t have to change you in the family restroom afterwards?” I watched as my face turned bright red; Vivian just laughed. “Can you believe it?” She said more softly, resting her chin on my shoulder, “Dr. Lavender Fairchild, PhD, but still can’t be potty trained.” “Don’t you know?” I said as I turned away from the mirror to face Vivian, “my PhD stands for ‘pees her diapers.”” Vivian laughed, then slipped her finger into my diaper, “you certainly do, you’re soaked.” She turned me towards the stairs and swatted my butt. “Come on, my little Lavender, let’s get you changed, okay?” “Yes, Miss Vivian.” And we lived happily ever after.

Great Question! Which is, in part, answered by some new chapters today! That said, after this update, there will be one more group of chapters that I drop, and that will, sadly, be the end of The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diapers and Doctorates. However! I've already begun work on The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild Part II, or [Subtitle Pending]! Or it might be called The Life and Further Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or [Subtitle Pending], I'm still debating the exact title XD Either way, it will be more focused on their play--less about life and more about humiliations, so to speak--so you have that to look forward to! So, basically, you get two new, admittedly short, chapters today, in a couple days you'll get the final few chapters and epilogue, and then this story will be taking a hopefully not too long hiatus and then Lavender and Vivian will return for more adventures. As always, thank you all for your support and kind words, and I hope you enjoy the next two chapters! Chapter Twenty-Eight I did eventually read the rest of the story; Vivian insisted. And so I sat in our temporary shared bed and read the rest of it while Vivian took a post-coital shower. The details are just for me but suffice to say that it was an…illuminating read. Not to mention how reading through the history of our relationship from Vivian’s perspective felt almost surreal. While I was busy worrying that my lies were leading Vivian down a rabbit hole of accidents and pull-ups and diaper changes, Vivian had been busy worrying she was pushing a girl struggling with a growing incontinence issue to drastic solutions because of her own desires. I couldn’t help but laugh as the professor in the story struggled with her own suspicions that maybe I was more into what was happening than I let on, picking up on little clues I hadn’t realized I had dropped. I had finished the story and was re-reading some of my favorite parts when Vivian emerged from the bathroom. “So?” She asked, an edge of nervousness in her voice, “what did you think?” “From a literary standpoint,” I said teasingly, “it’s not as good as A Restoration of Rainbows, but…I think it might be my favorite thing you’ve ever written.” Vivian smiled and climbed into bed next to me, still naked from the shower. “And I wrote it all for you,” she said, “no one else will ever get to read it.” I smiled affectionately at her. Gods, I loved this woman. “I wondered, sometimes, if maybe…you were into it too…” Vivian laughed, “I guess we should have just been honest with each other from the beginning, huh?” “Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh, “but…I think it makes for a pretty good story.” Vivian leaned over, cupped my check with her hand, and kissed me softly, tenderly. “I love you, my little Lavender.” “I love you too, Miss Vivian.” “Now,” she said with a mischievous grin as she got out of bed, “I think it’s time I got my little girl in a diaper, don’t you think?” I smiled and nodded, “I’d like that, Miss Vivian.” And we lived happily ever after. Chapter Twenty-Nine Of course, that’s not the end of the story. The rest of our vacation was a whirlwind of all the conversations we should have been having all along but were too afraid to have. Not to mention a lot of kinky sex; but I’ll save those stories for another time. Suffice to say, I didn’t wear panties for the rest of the vacation, we even had to order more diapers—Vivian even paid a premium for overnight shipping to make sure we wouldn’t run out. When the week was over, Vivian took me back to my apartment, where I showed her everything—all my pacifiers, my sippy cups, my onesies, everything. And she cooed over how cute I would look in everything I showed her. When we left the apartment, we brought the chest of secrets with us. We soon arrived at Vivian’s house, where there were multiple packages waiting at the front door. “I had to do a lot of shopping to get ready to have my little girl spend the summer with me,” Vivian explained as we carried the boxes inside. And so I settled into to stay with Vivian for the summer. We knew we couldn’t continue to live together once the semester started, it was too risky, but for that summer, we could do whatever we wanted. So, we did, and I spent the summer as Vivian’s little girl. Sure, I also got some work done on my dissertation, but I did it with a thick diaper wrapped around my waist and a pacifier in my mouth. Sure, it felt a little weird writing my dissertation in such a state, but…the duality of man and all that. All in all, I was perhaps the happiest I had ever been over those few months. Everything was blissful and perfect…and then the new semester was almost upon us. Moving all of my stuff back to my apartment—minus a stash of little stuff to keep at Vivian’s house for our Friday nights together—was bittersweet, but we knew it had to be done. And when it was, we both sat down in my living room with boxes of Chinese take out for our last meal together at my apartment. Elyse wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, so imagine my surprise when the front door opened halfway through dinner. My chopsticks clattered to the floor as Vivian and I looked up at Elyse. “So,” she spoke into the uncomfortable silence, “this explains where you’ve been.” “W-what do you mean?” I stammered out. “We were just…Vivian and I were discussing my dissertation and—” “Oh, stop it,” Elyse interrupted me, “I’ve been home for a week, Lavender, where have you been? You think I wouldn’t notice half your stuff was missing from the apartment?” “You…what? No, you weren’t supposed to come home for another couple of days!” I said, as if that would change anything. “You got the dates wrong,” Elyse replied simply. “So, what, you two have been living together over the summer?” She asked accusatorily. “Elyse,” Vivian spoke up, “I assure you, it’s nothing quite so inappropriate as that,” she lied. “I think you should probably leave, Professor Devereux,” Elyse said flatly. Silence stretched out in our little apartment. Vivian looked over at me, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want her to go, but maybe it was for the best right that second. She set her chopsticks down and gathered up her stuff without a word. “I’ll talk to you later, Lavender,” she said as she approached the front door, walking past Elyse to do it. I nodded and gave her a look that I hoped conveyed how sorry I was. “Elyse, I—” “Don’t,” she interrupted me again, “I don’t want to hear whatever lies or excuses you’re going to give to me. You’ve been living with your advisor, Lavender, do you know how bad that is? Do you know what’s going to happen if anyone else finds out?” “Are you…going to turn us in?” “Maybe I should,” Elyse said, and it sent a dagger of ice through my heart. “But…” the word lingered in the air as Elyse walked into the living room and flopped down on the opposite side of the couch from me, “but maybe not.” “Please don’t,” I said quietly. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are right now, Lavender, in this program, with your fellowship. Is Vivian really worth risking all of that? Because if anyone finds out that you’ve been sleeping with your professor, you might.” I fidgeted with my hands without looking up at Elyse. Elyse sighed deeply, “maybe they won’t,” she admitted, “I don’t really know what they’ll do, but one of you will have to take the fall for it. At least one of you.” “I…love her,” I said weakly. “Enough to risk everything?” “I think so…I don’t know…” Elyse shook her head and sighed again, “then maybe you should turn yourself in.” She stood up and started walking towards her bedroom, “Maybe if you do, they’ll be lenient.” And then she left me to sit alone with my thoughts, and I was deep in them. I barely slept that night; my anxiety and churning thoughts kept me awake. I also didn’t hear from Vivian that night, which only worsened my anxiety. Instead of sleeping, I lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling and imagining all the horrible ways this conundrum could end. I didn’t want to break things off with Vivian—I could never bring myself to do that—but I was so proud of my educational career and knew I also could never blow my chance at getting my doctorate, especially not when I was so close. Was Elyse right? Should I turn us in? They’d probably make me stop dating Vivian, but that wasn’t an option. But if they somehow found out, it would probably be even worse. I racked my brain all night trying to figure a way out of this mess. But as morning came, I was no closer to knowing where to go from here. And then my phone went off. “Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number. “Ms. Fairchild?” “Speaking.” “Good morning, Ms. Fairchild,” the voice on the other end spoke formally, “this is Dr. Delores Abernathy calling.” Dr. Abernathy—the director of my program. “Yes,” I replied, my heart beating in my throat, “how can I help you, Dr. Abernathy?” “I know it’s short notice, but I was hoping you’d be able to come by my office this afternoon, we have a…delicate but important matter to discuss.” “Sure, I can do that,” I replied, then took a deep breath. “May I…may I ask what this is about?” “It’s about your relationship with Professor Devereux.” My stomach fell through the floor.

I gotta be honest, I don't know what this reactions means XD good, I hope? Chapter Twenty-Seven The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed. I sat up, my diaper crinkling and squishing beneath me, and rubbed my eyes. Vivian was probably already up and had breakfast prepared. But as I shuffled sleepily out of the master bedroom, I heard the sound of typing coming from somewhere in the house. Following the sound, I quickly found Vivian posted up at a desk in one of the bedrooms with a typewriter of all things—the quintessential picture of the author. “Morning,” I said softly from the doorway. Vivian jumped a little in her seat before turning around, exhaling heavily, “Lavender, you scared me a little.” “Sorry,” I smiled apologetically as I walked into the room and sat on the twin-sized bed. “Whatcha doing?” “Writing,” Vivian said simply, gesturing to the typewriting, “I guess you could say inspiration hit. I couldn’t wait to get out of bed this morning and start writing, I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” she said the last part in a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re not doing work, are you?” I asked, remembering how she had chided me for suggesting I might get some work done on our vacation. Vivian giggled, “not at all, I promise.” “Then let me make us some breakfast,” I said as I stood up, “and you keep writing, okay?” “You’re going to make breakfast?” Vivian asked uncertainly, “Lavender, you’ve as much as admitted to me that you don’t know how to cook.” I huffed. “I can toast a bagel and cut up some fruit! It’s not the fanciest breakfast, but…still…” Vivian smiled appreciatively, “that sounds lovely, thank you.” “Of course,” I smiled back at her then turned to the door, “one bagel and fruit, coming right up!” “Oh, but Lavender?” Vivian called as I was walking out of the room, “You should probably change first.” My face was suddenly very hot—I hadn’t even thought twice about walking around in my soaked diaper. “I was just about to do that!” I lied, then dashed out of the room and back to the master bedroom. You’re getting a little too comfortable wearing wet padding around Vivian… She doesn’t seem to care. Especially not after last night. Last night… I sighed dreamily as I ripped the tapes off my diaper and deposited it in the trashcan in the en suite bathroom. Last night had been magical. Changed into a fresh pull-up, I made my way to the kitchen and whipped us up some breakfast—a toasted bagel with cream cheese for Vivian and one with hummus for me, plus some strawberries for both of us. Vivian took a break from writing to eat with me on the back patio. I was dying of curiosity about what Vivian was writing, but I refrained from asking about it, trusting Vivian to share it with me when and if she wanted. So, instead, we made small talk, mostly about our plans for the day—Vivian wanted to spend the day writing, so I was left to entertain myself. When we finished breakfast, Vivian went back to her typewriter while I cleaned up our dishes. With everything cleaned up, I set about finding something to do. I thought about curling up on the back patio with a book, or maybe even rowing out onto the lake and enjoying my book out in the early summer sun, but, instead, I found myself wandering through the house. I had given the place a quick once over when we had arrived, but now I was really looking through everything. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I was just bored and curious. In the living room, I found a stash of board game, many of my childhood favorites amongst the title, and I made a mental note to bug Vivian to play some of them with me. I also found a collection of DVDs and books, the titles so eclectic it was clear that much of the collection had been accumulated from forgetful temporary tenants. The rest of the house had very little of any real interest, and I was close to giving up my search entirely until I came across a bedroom that was very clearly intended for children. The room had a set of bunk beds and, I blushed to see, a crib and changing table. At least the landlords thought to provide for families. Beyond that, the room had a bookcase that was stuffed full of various children’s books, more board games, and toys of all sorts. A toy chest sat next to the bookcase and right in front of a window that looked out over the lake; it was also full of toys and stuffed animals. It was clear this collection was also at least supplemented by the leftovers of the countless families that had passed through this house. And then I found the real jackpot. Opening the folding closet doors, I found huge plastic containers absolutely full of Legos. My eyes went wide, and my face lit up. It took me multiple trips to carry it all out into the living room, where I had a lot more floor space, but before long I had pulled out all the containers and had them set up in a semi-circle in the living room. And so morning slid into afternoon; warm sunlight streamed through the living room windows, illuminating my playspace, and so gradually did it fade that I didn’t even notice I was squinting in the dark to see the Lego pieces. By the time the sun set, leaving the living room to be lit by only a single table lamp that did little to fight off the encroaching darkness, I had built myself a giant castle out of mismatched blocks, but there was something regal in its patchwork color palette. I was just sitting back on my heels, admiring my work and decided what to build next, when bright light flooded the room. I cried out in surprise and squeezed my eyes shut behind my hands. “Sorry,” Vivian said, “I should have warned you first.” I blinked a few times to adjust to the light and looked over at Vivian, who was standing just inside the doorway by the light switch. “You look like you’re having fun though.” I couldn’t help but blush a little. Sure, Vivian changed my diaper, but she thought I couldn’t help that. But here she was, having just caught me in the middle of playing with children’s toys. “Yeah,” I confirmed bashfully, “I haven’t played with Legos in…well, not since I was a little kid.” Which was true, but I had already promised myself to look into buying myself some Legos to play with at home. “It’s a lovely castle,” Vivian said genuinely, then added, “Are you the princess?” With a bit of a teasing smile. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh and play along or pout—different parts of me wanted to do both in equal measure. “Of course, I am,” I said finally with a huff, as if it was the dumbest question ever asked. “Of course, you are,” Vivian repeated. “How’s you writing going?” I asked after a moment of silence. “It’s…going really well,” Vivian walked into the living room, skirting around my Lego bins, and sat down on the couch. “I…well, I’m sorry I left you alone all day to work on this,” she raised the stack of paper in her hand. It was the first time I had noticed she was holding it, and I couldn’t help but stare at it with intense curiosity. “Is it…done?” “No…yes? Maybe…it’s…well, it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written. It was a bit rushed, honestly, but I guess I just really wanted to get all my thoughts out as quickly as possible. So, I guess…maybe the rough draft is done? I don’t know if I’ll ever bother editing this one though.” Her tone of voice was subdued, as if she was exhausted, or maybe nervous. Was she just tired from writing all day? “Is it…like the stories you used to write on those forums?” I asked, recalling the conversation we had just a couple days before in her kitchen. She smiled, “Yeah, it is.” “Did you have fun writing it?” Her smiled faltered, “It was…difficult to write, if I’m being honest. But I think I needed to write it, and I feel better having done so.” “Well,” I said, unsure of exactly how to react, “I guess that’s good?” “It is,” she looked up at me and smiled. “Lavender, um…I’d like to share it with you?” My heart skipped a beat; I had a sense of how important this was to her, how vulnerable she was being by even offering. “Are you sure?” “No,” she laughed, “but…yes.” She held out the bundle of papers, but I didn’t take it. “I don’t want you to show me because you feel like you have to.” “But I do have to,” Vivian said, “because I wrote this for you. And maybe writing it was a mistake, but I wrote it for you, and you have to read it. Just…please, don’t judge until you get to the end.” “You wrote it for me?” I asked incredulously. “To say things I need to say but can’t bring myself to say out loud.” “That sounds…ominous,” I took a deep breath, “was…last night a mistake?” “What? No!” Vivian shook her head emphatically. “No, it wasn’t a mistake. But…I’ve made other mistakes, Lavender, and after last night…I have to correct them. And I just hope…I just hope you won’t regret last night once I do. So…please, Lavender, I love you, I really do, and I want you to remember that as you read this, okay?” I reached out and gently took the papers. “Okay,” I said simply, then added, “I love you too, and nothing that’s in these pages is going to change that.” Vivian smiled weakly, “we’ll see.” “Should I read it in private?” “No,” Vivian said, “do it here. I…want to see how you react in the moment.” “Okay,” nervously, I looked down at the pages in my hand, and started reading. The story was about a professor, a doctoral advisor, who had invited their advisee to their home for dinner. She did it against it her best judgement; she knew it was a mistake, but she was so…enraptured with the young student. She was nervous that night, so she drank, and encouraged her student to do the same to cover for how nervous she was. And maybe, just maybe, if she was being honest with herself, because she was hoping someone would get drunk enough to make the first move. But then she awoke the next morning and lay in bed racked with guilt for how she had acted. Slowly, she peeled herself out of bed and made her way to the guest room, intending to the tell the girl, her student, that she was sorry, and that perhaps this had all been a mistake. But then…then she found her in a wet bed. She immediately went to comfort the girl, twisted up as she was between feeling guilty for putting the girl in this predicament and her…secret desires. The professor, you see, had always wanted a little girl of her own—not in a maternal way, but in a kinky way. The professor fought with herself after that day: she wanted her student more than ever but she still knew it was wrong. Not to mention, she was racked with guilt for how her student’s bedwetting, something that must be so humiliating and shameful for her, was something so arousing to her. But, she reasoned with herself, she could get a small slice of her desires fulfilled just by being with a girl she was already enamored with and being kind and supportive about her condition—was that so underhanded? I looked up at Vivian. “No,” she said, “don’t say anything, just finish reading, okay?” But I shook my head. I knew what was coming next, and I didn’t want to relive that, not as full of emotion as I was. I felt like I was about to burst in a fit of laughter or sobbing, I wasn’t sure which. Besides, I had read everything I needed to know. “Lavender,” Vivian said, “please? Read it, for me?” I shook my head again and looked up at her, smiling, tears forming in my eyes, “I faked the accidents,” I admitted, “or most of them, not the first one, the first time I wet the bad that is, that was a genuine accident, but after that…the rest of them? I either put myself in a position where I knew I was going to have an accident or outright did it on purpose, all because…because…all I’ve ever wanted was to be someone’s little girl.” I watched Vivian’s face transform with surprise and confusion and understanding and, finally, joy. “Will you…be my little girl, Lavender?” I nodded, tears rolling down my checks, “yes, of course.”

Chapter Twenty-Six The rest of our first day at the lake house passed largely without event. Vivian said nothing about my choice of underwear, which I was thankful for. We went to lunch at the diner our temporary landlord had recommended, went shopping, and then spent a quiet evening in. We made a simple dinner—salads with grilled chicken—and settled in on the couch for an evening of horror movies. It was almost a perfect evening. I was curled up and leaning against Vivian, drinking wine, watching scary movies (which I loved at the best of times but were only enhanced by being held by Vivian), and wearing a pull-up under my pajamas. I could think of a couple of things that would improve the evening—a sippy cup for my wine, a pacifier, a stuffy to cuddle, and thicker undergarments—but, all-in-all, it was a blissful night. Halfway through the second movie and halfway through the second bottle of wine, however, the inevitable happened—I had to pee. Just wet your pull-up, that’s what it’s for. I can’t just…casually wet myself while cuddling with Vivian! Why not? I…well…I just can’t, okay? But why not? That’s what the pull-ups are for; everyone here knows you are wearing pull-ups because you sometimes have accidents, so…just have an accident. I glanced up at Vivian from the corner of my eye, but she was absorbed in the movie. How on earth would I explain to her why I wet my pull-up? Just say you had an accident! It’s not complicated! But…wasn’t it? She would know I hadn’t like…tried very hard to make it to the potty if I don’t make a show of it… You’re over thinking this; she certainly isn’t going to think about it that hard. You have accidents, so have an accident. You’re the one who said you’d be able to commit to this! I said I’d be able to commit to wearing pull-ups full time! And that doesn’t include the occasional accident? If you don’t have any accidents, you won’t have an excuse to wear the pull-ups. Just say you didn’t notice. Oh! Or better yet, you got scared by the movie! I bit my lip. That could work. Gods, was I really going to do this? I glanced up at Vivian again, but she showed no signs that she was aware of the turmoil going on in my brain at that moment. “You okay, darling?” Vivian asked as I drew attention to myself shifting around to get into a more comfortable position in which to wet my pull-up. I nodded, “just had to readjust,” I told a half truth. I thought it would be hard; I thought some mental block would keep me from easily wetting my pull-up. Such mental blocks were no stranger to me. Anyone who has ever purposefully wet themselves can tell you that. Of course, I had plenty of practice overcoming them, so much so that under the best of circumstances I didn’t even have to try, but this was different. I had never wet myself while cuddling with someone, and I expected it to be hard. I expected to have to focus, to put real effort into releasing my bladder. So, imagine my surprise when warmth began flooding my pull-up effortlessly. Careful now, don’t flood it too much and leak. This was much harder than getting started. After an initial burst, I had to clench down, try to slow my stream, so I wouldn’t surpass the pull-ups ability to absorb liquid. This was, again, something I was practiced at, but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for my diapers, which didn’t require so much effort. Still, before long my bladder was empty, my pull-up warm, soggy, and squishy, and my pajamas, not to mention the couch below me, perfectly dry. I sighed contentedly and snuggled into Vivian, who wrapped her arm around me and pulled me close. Now, this is bliss. I still missed my pacifier and sippy cup and everything else, but it was certainly getting closer to perfect. “What did you think?” Vivian asked almost an hour later as the credits began to roll. “Mm, I thought it was pretty good,” I said as I sat up and readjusted so I was looking at her. My pull-ups squished beneath me as I did, and I couldn’t help but savor the feeling. “The monster was kind of silly looking, though.” “I agree,” Vivian nodded and leaned forward to pour the last of the bottle of wine into our glasses. “Sadly, I think that’s the weak point of a lot of horror films; I think it’s more effective when you never see the monster, to be honest.” “Mhm! Whatever we imagine is always going to be scarier anyway!” Vivian and I quickly finished off the last of the wine as we discussed the movie. My biggest complaint about the movie was that it wasn’t scary enough to provide a probable alibi for my wet pull-up, though that particular critique went unvoiced. “Well,” Vivian said some time later, “shall we watch another one? Or perhaps there are…other activities we could get up to?” She smirked and raised one eyebrow before tossing back the last of her wine. “And what about another bottle of wine?” I smiled even as I was biting my lip and finished off my own wine. “Another bottle of wine, for sure. And then…I don’t know…” I spoke coyly and looked at Vivian through my eyelashes, “what else could we get up to?” Vivian chuckled and stood up, “why don’t I get us another bottle of wine and then we can figure it out.” I watched Vivian saunter out of the room—how did she manage to look elegant and sexy even in loose fitting pajamas? So, are you just going to keep sitting in your wet pull-up? Wait until bedtime? I was left in a bit of a conundrum concerning my pull-up. I could just go change—in fact, I’m pretty sure that was exactly what I would do if I actually needed the pull-ups and wasn’t just a diaper-loving degenerate. However, that was also the least fun option, not least of all because I would have to slink away, which would inevitably provoke questions that I was too embarrassed to have to answer. You can wet yourself while cuddled up to Vivian, but you can’t tell her you had an accident? Those two things are very different. It’s all part of wearing pull-ups full time. On the other hand, if I waited until bedtime to change, well…first of all, I knew I’d probably have to pee again before then, especially considering all the wine and the fact that I had broken the seal already. Secondly, it was likely that Vivian would change me into my night time diaper again—the thought filled me with anticipation—which means she’ll notice my wet pull-up then and I might have to explain why I sat in a wet pull-up for so long. Just lie and say it happened recently? Before I could consider my options too much, Vivian returned with a chilled bottle of white wine and filled both of our glasses. “So?” She asked as she poured, “Another movie? Or…something else?” I smiled over the rim of my wine glass and took a sip. “Mm, well, did you have anything in mind?” Vivian sat down next to me, crossed her legs, and sipped at her wine, seemingly deep in thought. “You know, my little Lavender,” she said lightly after a long pause as she reached over and gently stroked my cheek before pushing some stray hair behind my ear, “maybe we should just…enjoy each other’s company, what do you think?” I smiled and scooted closer to her on the couch, pressing my body against hers, and in response Vivian wrapped her arm around me and held me close. “That could be nice,” I sipped my wine and then leaned forward to set it on the coffee table before settling back. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve properly…enjoyed each other’s company,” I said, using her euphemism. Vivian reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding my body close to hers and cupped my cheek, “you’re so gorgeous, darling,” she said before leaning in and gently kissing me. I kissed back harder, wanting more, but she pulled away with a playful laugh; I made a whining protest in my throat as I bit my lip. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” I let go of my lip and exhaled, long and slow, “you’re teasing me,” I accused playfully. She gently grabbed my chin and placed her thumb on my lower lip; I shuddered and wrapped my lips around the tip of her thumb—half-way between sucking her thumb and kissing it. “Oh, darling,” she said softly, “I’m not teasing you, just…drawing things out.” “Teasing,” I said softly, distantly—something about the way she was holding my chin made me brain go foggy, and I was quickly becoming drunk on her touches. “Mmm,” Vivian sounded amused, “and what would you have me do, my little Lavender?” “Kiss me?” She leaned, shifting her hand from grabbing my chin to cupping my cheek, and kissed me, long and slow. Then with increasing intensity. I started to whine as she seemed to be pulling away, but she just laughed, bit my lip—I shuddered and gasped in surprise and pleasure—and began kissing me with newly invigorated passion. And then Vivian was on top of me, straddling me and pressing my against the back of the couch, her hair draped around me as she held my face with both hands and kissed me needfully, her tongue darting and running over my lips. One of my hands settled on her hip while the other played up and down her side before finally making its way to her chest. I played with Vivian’s nipple through her shirt, and she moaned against my mouth. You’re making out with Vivian while wearing a wet pull-up. I squeezed my thighs together gently, squishing the pull-up between then and pressing the wet garment against my most sensitive parts. I was making out with Vivian in a wet pull-up, and she had no idea. Vivian ran her hand through my hair, gently at first, but then she closed her fist and gently pulled my hair. I inhaled sharply and let me head be yanked back; then Vivian’s mouth was against my neck, sucking and biting even as she maintained gentle pressure on my hair—not enough to truly hurt, but enough to give the sensation of having my hair pulled. My fingers trailed from her hip, around her thigh, to trace a line up and down the hem of her panties, gently teasing her. She rocked her hips to give me better access, but I went no farther than tracing her panty lines. “Now who’s teasing?” She stopped sucking on my neck to whisper directly in my ear, then nipped at my earlobe. “Be a good girl and touch me.” “Touch you where?” I said with a smirk, echoing the game she had played the last time we were making out on my couch—right before I pissed myself. “Tell me where, exactly.” “Mmm, you’re playing a dangerous game, my little Lavender,” she warned, then gently ran her tongue around the outside of my ear—a little moan of pleasure escaped my lips. “Be a good girl and touch me,” she repeated with my force, “and maybe I’ll reward you, do you understand, my little Lavender?” I swallowed hard and nodded, “yes, mis—” I cut myself over before I could finish the three-word phrase I had uttered so many times in my imagination. “Hmm? What was that?” Vivian asked, clearly picking up on the extra half syllable. I shook my head, “yes, Vivian,” I said, and complied, beginning to slowly rub Vivian’s lips through her panties—I felt her muscles tighten for a moment as she gasped, then slowly relax as she exhaled. “Uh uh,” she spoke a little breathlessly, “you were going to say something else, what were you going to say, darling? Be a good girl now and don’t like.” I was blushing furiously and stammered wordlessly for a moment before I could find words, “it’s just…I was going to say…” “Go on,” Vivian was rocking her hips back and forth in time with my hand. I pressed against her clit, and she gasped but maintained her cool—more importantly, she maintained focus. “Keep going, Lavender, but you can’t distract me, tell me what you were going to say.” She was breathing slow and deep, but still had a mischievous look on her face. “Come on, now, or you won’t get a treat.” If my face got any warmer, I was sure I was going to burst into flames. Think of something else, what could you have been saying? Yes, miss…no, not miss, what else starts with m…my love? “I just…uhm…yes, my love?” I ventured. “Is that really what you were going to say?” Vivian asked with more than a hint of suspicion. “One more chance to be a good girl, little Lavender.” “I…” I bit my lip and locked eyes with Vivian for a long moment. Just tell her; she’s making out with you while you’re wearing a wet pull-up, how badly is she really going to react to you calling her ‘Miss Vivian’? She doesn’t know I’m in a wet pull-up… If only I hadn’t been so terribly horny in the moment, I might have been able to think of a way around admitting what I had said, but I was cornered. I broke eye contact with Vivian and looked away, there was no way I could say it while making eye contact like that. “I said,” I began cautiously, “or…was going to say…uhm…yes…Miss Vivian…” Vivian’s lips curled into a grin, “So…say it.” I snapped my head back to look at her, my face a picture of surprise. “W-what?” “Say it,” she repeated with a tone of finality. “Yes…yes, Miss Vivian,” I stammered. “That’s right, my good girl,” she stroked my cheek gently, “and you’ll do anything Miss Vivian tells you to, isn’t that right?” Hearing Vivian refer to herself as ‘Miss Vivian’ sent a shiver through my whole body. I liked my lips and nodded. Smiling, she slid of my lap backwards and stood up in front of me. “I’m so glad to hear that, darling, because you’re going to make Miss Vivian feel very good, aren’t you?” She slowly removed her pajama pants as she did, revealing a simple, unadorned pair of black bikini panties. I couldn’t help but blush at the disparity between our undergarments. I nodded eagerly. “Of course, you are,” she said as she sat back down on the couch, facing me with her back pressed against the arm of the chair. “Take my panties off,” she directed. Shifting around so I was facing her, I reached out and hooked my fingers around the waistband of her panties on either side and began to slowly slide them down her legs. Vivian lifted her hips just enough for me to slid them out from under her, then settled back down. “You’re so good at following directions,” Vivian praised. “Now,” she reached out with both hands and grabbed my hair on either side of my head, then pulled my head down between her legs, “I trust my little Lavender knows what to do, yes?” Vivian’s hips bucked forward as I began running my tongue up her lips before working through her folds to find her clitoris. She moaned and arched her back as I began spelling out my name against her clit with my tongue. “Good girl,” Vivian moaned the words, elongating them with at least a dozen extra vowels each, and began to play with my hair, alternating between gently running her fingers through it and softly yanking on handfuls. My own parts throbbed against the inside of my pull-up, and even as I licked and sucked and let my tongue play games between Vivian’s thighs, my hand ventured down between my own and pressed the wet padding firmly against my skin. I rocked my own hips against my hand, rubbing the piss-soaked padding against myself. Yes, Miss Vivian. The words were burned in my head. My good girl. Every nerve in my body vibrated with those words. Lost in the moment as I was, everything else faded away until it was just Vivian and me. All I knew was her taste, her smell, the sound of her breathing and her occasional murmurs of encouragement, and the feeling of her hands in my hair and the wet pull-up against my skin. Minutes passed, perhaps hours, perhaps lifetimes. Vivian’s hands tightened their grip on my hair and I felt her whole body begin to tense; she was close. Reluctantly, I stopped rubbing my own padding and let my hand drift upwards where I plunged my fingers inside Vivian. She gasped and made a high-pitched sound as I pushed her over the edge; her whole body shuddering, muscles tensing and loosening. She held me so close to her so tightly that I thought I might suffocate, but it never even occurred to me to slow down or resist, I simply kept working my tongue against her and moving my fingers in and out as Vivian cried out. Slowly, slowly, Vivian’s cries turned to whimpers, turned deep, slow breaths as her body relaxed, melting into the couch. I sat up, wiping juices from my face and grinning, “I did good?” “You did very good, my little Lavender,” Vivian laughed breathlessly, “very good.” “Time for my treat?” Vivian smirked, “didn’t you already get your treat?” I pouted, “no?” “So, you weren’t touching yourself for most of that?” Vivian cocked an eyebrow at me, and my face flushed. “But! That was…I mean…you didn’t say I couldn’t,” I pouted, and Vivian laughed. “Don’t worry,” Vivian sat up and pushed me back until I was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, “you’ll get yours; I’m just teasing.” Vivian hovered over me, her hair falling all around my face. She looked down at me, smiling hungrily. Her brushed my knee and then her fingertips were gently trailing their way up my inner thigh toward— Your wet fucking pull-up. Oh god. “Vivian, I…” Vivian’s face flashed a moment of surprise that quickly faded to concern, and her hand quickly withdrew. “Lavender? What is it? Are you okay?” She was still hovering over me but she held her body rigid and as far from me as possible. “Yeah, I…um…” What was I supposed to say? My pull-up is wet? “What’s going on, darling?” Vivian asked. I bit my lip and nodded. “I just…” Frustration welled up in my chest. The worst part was it was my fault; I could have gotten changed earlier, like when I had first wet myself. Or just not wet yourself in the first place. Or even put on the pull-up. And now you’ve ruined your sex life because you wanted to pretend you’re incontinent. “Lavender,” Vivian’s gentle voice brought me back to the moment. I looked up; her expression was soft and warm. “Darling,” she gave me a knowing smile, “I already know…” I knew what she meant immediately, and my face went scarlet. The problem was, she thought she knew, but she only knew half the truth. I bit my lip and exhaled deeply. Maybe…try being honest for once? “I’m…wet?” I muttered weakly. “You’re…? Oh.” Vivian said, confusion turning to understanding, to surprise. “Oh!” “I’m sorry, I—” “Lavender,” Vivian interrupted me, “were you wet when you were touching yourself earlier?” My stomach dropped. I nodded. Why did you nod? I don’t know! Why did you nod?! I panicked! But Vivian…Vivian was smirking. Slowly, she crept back over me, her hair washing against me, until her face was above mine. “If you don’t care,” she said as her hand brushed past my thighs, “then why should I?” She pressed her hand against my wet pull-up and my breath caught in my throat. I looked up at her with surprise and lust, my lip caught between my teeth. “I told you, my little Lavender,” she whispered, “none of this bothers me.” Her fingers rhythmically pressed the soaked padding against me, and I rocked my hips in time, my breaths quick and shallow. “And I love you.” Everything stopped. I looked up at Vivian, my eyes wide. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah.” I nodded. “I…I love you too.” “Yeah?” Her smile absolutely lit her face up. “Yeah!” I laughed. And then she was kissing me, and her hand was working furiously against my pull-up, and my hips moved instinctively, and time stretched out or compressed or maybe looped back on itself a few times but then the world exploded into starlight and sound and a ragged cry was ripped from my throat as I clawed at Vivian’s back and then everything was white, then black, no, my eyes were just closed, tears poured down my cheeks as I opened them. I looked up at Vivian and a swell of emotion rose in my chest, threatening to turn into a fit of joyful sobbing, but I fought it down, and smiled weakly instead. “I love you.” I repeated. “I love you, my little Lavender.”

As always, I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who has commented; I cannot express the joy I get from knowing that yall not only enjoy but are really engaged with the story! Here's a brand new chapter for y'all--with an easter egg for those who have read my other stories ?? Chapter Twenty-Five The glass felt cool against my forehead as I did my best to curl up in the passenger seat of Vivian’s car. I had been dozing on and off for most of the ride, and Vivian was playing a podcast at a low volume. It was nice of Vivian to let me sleep on the ride there instead of keeping her company while she drove, but it was, according to her, Vivian’s way of apologizing for making me wake up so early. And I definitely needed the sleep; my excitement over what had happened the night before combined with my anticipation of the week to come had kept me up most of the night, like a little kid on Christmas Eve. I shifted around in my seat, my legs were starting to get stiff, and smiled as I felt the slight bulk of the pull-up—so thin compared to the diapers I was quickly becoming accustomed to. “If you think you’re going to sleep on the drive,” Vivian had said that morning over breakfast, “it might be a good idea to wear one of your pull-ups—just in case, yes?” And, of course, I had agreed; it was simply the most practical option. And it has nothing at all to do with the fact that you get off on Miss Vivian telling you to wear your padding. I mean…that helps, yeah. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Vivian said as she noticed me stirring, “awake for the day or are you going to try to get some more sleep?” I stretched as best as I could in the cramped confines of the car and considered the question. “How close are we?” “Pretty close,” Vivian said, turning off the podcast so we could talk more easily, “maybe about 20 or 30 minutes?” “Doesn’t seem worth it to go back to sleep then, you know?” I smiled and looked out the window. It was trees as far as the eye could see. “I don’t think I realized just how out in the middle of nowhere this place is.” “It’s not the middle of nowhere,” Vivian replied, “but it’s pretty close. There’s a town just a short drive away from the house, so we’re not exactly isolated, but we’ll have plenty of privacy,” she glanced at me sideways and smirked. As I shook the last vestiges of sleep off of me, I noticed the slight fullness in my bladder. I could hold it for 30 minutes, but… She expects you to use the pull-up anyway, why not just use it? I’m not even sure if I can. I’d peed myself in front of Vivian three times now, and all of them been while I was desperate to pee. In fact, I had even tried to pee myself before I’d hit my limit the night before and had been unable—could I do it now? It’s different than peeing your pants, easier, less humiliating. But will it be less humiliating when I have to tell her my pull-up is wet? Do you ever really need to? She’s going to find out. But, again, she expects you to use it. You’ve been asleep in her car for hours and are a known bedwetter—she’ll probably be surprised if you’re dry. That’s true… “Do you need to stop and stretch or anything?” Vivian asked, as if she knew what I was thinking. Stretching sounded nice, but I shook my head, “no, I’ll be alright until we get there.” “Just let me know if you change your mind,” Vivian said. “So, I was thinking,” Vivian continued, “how would you feel about getting settled in the house and then driving back to town to get some lunch and check the place out? Maybe get some groceries and stuff while we’re there.” “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” I leaned my head against the window again and watched the trees zooming past. In truth, the pressure in my bladder wasn’t bad, but it was all I could think of. So…just go… I bit my lip and stole a quick glance over at Vivian, who seemed wholly focused on the road now. I shifted around in my seat more, getting into a better position, and relaxed my bladder. At first, nothing happened, but after a moment of focus I felt the familiar and exhilarating sensation of warm pee flooding my pull-up. I smiled, regretful that I couldn’t slip my thumb into my mouth—or better yet, a pacifier—and settled back down into my seat, the pull-up squishing against me. Before long, I must have slipped back asleep, as the next thing I knew I was being lightly shaken back awake. “Lavender,” Vivian was saying, “Lavender, wake up.” “Mm?” “We’re here, darling.” “Yeah?” I said groggily as I sat up in my seat and looked around. We were parking at the end of a gravel lane right in front of a Victorian-style house. There was a bit of a clearing around the house but were otherwise surrounded by dense trees, except behind the house where a huge, sparkling lake stretched out. “Oh,” I said as I rubbed my eyes, “it looks so nice.” “Come on, sleepy girl,” Vivian said as she opened her car door and stepped out, “let’s check it out.” I followed Vivian’s lead and climbed out of the car, my joints and muscles both complaining and rejoicing at their new freedom. I stretched with my whole body, vaguely aware of but largely unconcerned with how it made me shirt rise up, possibly exposing the waistband of my pull-up. “Well, hey there!” An unfamiliar voice rang out from the house, and I immediately grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it down. I looked toward the house and saw a young woman, maybe in her 30s, coming down the porch stairs. She had brown, curly hair that fell to the middle of her back and wore a loose, flowy skirt. “Hey,” Vivian called back as I cowered against the car. Did they see? Surely, they were too far away to notice, right? “You must be Vivian,” the woman said as she approached us with her hand outstretched. “That’s right,” Vivian said as she took the woman’s hand and shook it gently. “And you must be Madison, right? Or Sabrina?” The curly haired woman nodded and laughed lightly, “Madison,” she confirmed, then pointed off in the distance, “that’s Sabrina over there with our daughter, Claire.” I followed where she was pointing and saw another young woman in a floral print dress playing on the ground with a girl who looked to be about two or three years old. “It’s nice to meet you,” Vivian said, and then gestured to me, “and this is Lavender. Lavender, these are the people we’re renting the house from.” “It’s nice to meet you,” I said softly, still holding down the hem of my shirt. There’s no way she saw from up on the porch. “My,” Madison said as she looked me up and down, “aren’t you just a lovely little thing.” She smiled in away that, quite frankly, creeped me out a little; it felt like she was assessing me, and had discovered something that amused her. “Well,” she said, turning back to Vivian, “I was just giving the house one last once over to make sure everything was ready for you.” Vivian and Madison continued talking, but I stopped paying attention—something about Madison didn’t sit right with me, and I wanted away from the situation. You’re just imagining things because you’re worried she saw your pull-up. Maybe, but still, something is weird about her. Instead, I walked around to the back of the car and started pulling our luggage out. “I’m going to start bringing these in,” I called to Vivian who looked away from Madison long enough to smile and nod at me. “I just turned the air conditioner on,” Madison said as I rolled our suitcases past her and Vivian, “so it might still be a little stuffy in there.” Stuffy was right, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was decorated simply, but nicely—very cottage core, which felt appropriate. I found the master bedroom easily, with it’s four post bed, dresser, armoire, and large vanity table. With the luggage safely stored there, I set about exploring the rest of the house. It wasn’t a huge house, smaller than Vivian’s, in fact, but it would do nicely for us for the next week. More than nicely. We probably wouldn’t even use the extra bedrooms. Finally, I found my way out the back door and onto the covered patio and conjoined dock. There was even a small rowboat tied to the end of the dock, and I immediately began thinking of how nice it would be to row out onto the lake and enjoy the sun as the water gently rocked me. Stepping out onto the dock, I looked out over the water. The lake was huge, much larger than I had expected. I could see other houses against the water, but they were all quite a ways off. We definitely had ample privacy, even on the patio. Maybe you can sunbathe in a pull-up. My cheeks turned red at the idea, but I wasn’t entirely against it. “There you are,” I heard Vivian’s voice from behind me and turned to see her just stepping out onto the patio. “So, what do you think?” “It’s lovely,” I replied, walking back down the dock towards her. “This lake is absolutely gorgeous, and look! There’s a rowboat! I thought it would be nice to sun-bathe on the lake in it.” Vivian smiled at my enthusiasm and nodded her head, “that would be nice. Maybe we’ll pack a lunch and have a little picnic on the lake, what do you think?” “Yes, please! I’d love that.” “Speaking of lunch, Madison suggested a place in town if you were still up for heading into town?” I nodded and made an affirmative sound. “Great,” Vivian smiled, “do you want to…get changed before we go?” It took a second for me to realize what she meant, and my cheeks warmed when I did. I bit my lip and nodded, “Oh, yeah, I guess I should.” “Go on then, my little Lavender,” Vivian said, “get out of that soggy pull-up and into some panties, and then we can get going.” My face erupted in scarlet, and I nodded before hurrying inside. Why did she have to say it like that? Was she trying to embarrass you as much as possible? Does…does she know? How could she know? I don’t know, but… And why did she just assume you were wet? I did say I needed to change… Maybe you just didn’t want to go out in a pull-up! Hey, yeah! Then again, you did sleep the whole way here practically. Oh, so she’s just thinks I’m that much of a bedwetter. You haven’t exactly given her reason to think differently. She still didn’t have to say it like that! But it gave you butterflies. You love it when she talks to you like that. …not the point, she doesn’t know that. Are you going to protest? Well…no… Then why bother complaining? Just enjoy it. By then I had made it to the master bedroom where our luggage was. I stood there for a long moment looking at my suitcase and chewing my bottom lip. Something seemed off. Vivian had always been overly hesitant about saying anything that might embarrass me, but not all of the sudden she was saying telling me to change out of my “soggy pull-up?” Why the sudden switch? Was it…was it possible she had figured it out and decided to play along? But how could she have? I don’t know! But…if she knows… …then she’s playing along. So maybe I should… …double down? I knelt down and unzipped my suitcase. At first, I reached for a pair of panties but hesitated as I stared at the open bag of pull-ups. I had specifically brought the pull-ups to wear during the day, why not just…keep wearing them? On the other hand, I could stage another accident to see how Vivian would react, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to put myself through that again. “Something wrong?” I practically jumped out of my skin at the sound of Vivian’s voice coming from the doorway. I whirled around even as I was jumping to my feet and looked back at Vivian as I tried to suppress the instinct to panic. She hadn’t discovered me doing anything wrong, after all. “No,” I said, trying to keep my tone level, “just…you know, about to get changed.” “Mmm,” Vivian was leaning against the doorframe and giving me a playful smile, “well, go on ahead then, don’t let me bother you.” I swallowed hard and looked back down at the suitcase—no more time to deliberate. I knelt down again, reached into the suitcase, and grabbed a pull-up.

Chapter Twenty-three “Feeling better?” Vivian asked as I walked into the dining room where she was just beginning to set the table. I nodded, “Thank you again,” I said quietly, “for…well, everything…” Vivian set the last of the silverware in her hand on the table and looked up at me, “You are quite welcome, darling.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up a hand and continued before I could, “And before you say again,” she walked around the dining room table as she spoke, “there’s no need to be sorry.” She cupped my cheek with one hand and leaned in for a quick kiss, “or have I not made it abundantly clear just how little your…problem bothers me?” “You have,” I admitted, “it’s just…” Embarrassing? Shameful? Mortifying? Kinda hot? All words I could use, but instead I just trailed off. “I’m sure,” she said after it was obvious that I wasn’t going to finish—I couldn’t help but wonder what she seemed so certain I was going to say, “but all I can do is reassure you that this is a much bigger deal for you than it is for me. But, of course, if there is anything I can do to make this easier on you, then I would like to do that for you, okay?” Does her being so supportive make this easier or harder? Maybe both? I smiled and nodded, “thank you, Vivian.” “Quite welcome, my little Lavender. Now,” she let me cheek go and started walking towards the door that led into the kitchen, “I’ll go get our plates, why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?” Once we were both seated with our plates in front of us, Vivian almost immediately launched into a long rant about her frustrations with grading undergrad papers over the past week, a topic I was all too happy to let dominate the meal. I contributed to the conversation where I could—sometimes commiserating based on my limited experience grading papers during my MA years, sometimes defending the poor undergrads based on my much more recent memories of what it was like to be an undergrad—but, mostly, I just listened and validated her frustrations. As an aspiring professor myself, it was almost like a window into what I had to look forward to once I finished my degree. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of meandering conversation that traveled from the dining room to the kitchen as we cleaned and finally to the parlor as we sat on the couch nursing glasses of wine. Perhaps the night seemed to pass by especially quick as we both agreed an early bedtime was in order so we could be up bright and early the next morning to make the drive to the lake house. It was only a few hours, but Vivian wanted to get there before noon. And so, before long, I found myself back in the bathroom going through my bedtime routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and otherwise preparing for bed. About that time, I suddenly remember the conversation I had with Vivian on the phone earlier that day. “It might be best if you bring some of your, ah…diapers for nighttime,” Vivian had said. Did she mean for tonight too? Or just at the lake house? I don’t know. Is she expecting you to wear a diaper tonight? I don’t know! Well, are you going to? I. Don’t. Know! Wait, you can’t put it on yourself. What? Why not? Last time, at the apartment, you told her you had tried and couldn’t do it. If you do it yourself not, she’ll know you’ve been…practicing… I mean, it would make sense that I have, right? Maybe if she had told you she wanted you to wear diapers at night on this vacation like a week ago. How much practice could you have gotten in since this afternoon? So…do I wait to see if she offers? Oh, gods, what if she offers to put a diaper on you? Fuck, what if she does? It wasn’t like I hadn’t fantasized about that scenario numerous times, but the fantasy was far different from the reality of it. But as scary as it was, thinking about it made a pang of longing shudder through my body. That’s what you want though, isn’t it? Let’s just wait until she says something, okay? With that decided, I took a deep breath, and left the bathroom. I walked down the hallway to Vivian’s room, chewing my lip nervously the entire time. I was, once again, feeling rudderless and completely uncertain of what would come next. “All ready for bed?” Vivian called from her en suite bathroom as I walked in. “Yep,” I called back as I set my bag of toiletries next to the luggage in the corner of her room. “I just need to change into pajamas.” “About that,” Vivian began as she walked out of the bathroom, my heart jumping up into my throat with anticipation, “I was thinking that…well…” “I should wear a diaper to bed,” I blurted out—it took every once of willpower to not clap my hands over my mouth. Oh fuck oh fuck why did you say that?! I don’t know! So much for waiting for her to bring it up. She was about to! And you did it first! Vivian looked at me with a surprised expression on her face, blinked a few times, and nodded, “I was going to put it less bluntly, but…yes,” she gave me a warm smile. “I just thought it would be best to get used to it now since you’ll be wearing them to bed at the lake house, but, of course, it’s your decision, and I’ll respect any decision you make. In fact, if you decide you don’t want to wear the diapers at all, I’ll understand, and we can deal with any leaks that might happen.” Vivian rushed it all out in one breath, I just nodded, unsure of how to proceed. So, I guess this is it. But it wasn’t; we both just stood there awkwardly for a long moment. Is she waiting for you to go get changed? Maybe, but… But you’re waiting for her to offer to change you. Finally, Vivian cleared her throat and spoke again, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to…” she paused, visibly choosing her next words, “…be so…amenable to the idea.” I tried to push down the panic that was slowly but steadily rising inside me and forced a smile, “Yeah, I mean…you’re right, best to get used to it now, so…” You’re still just standing there. So is she! I glanced back at my suitcases where both my pajamas and my diapers were hidden, then back at Vivian. “Um…” Vivian’s eyes widened in surprise, “oh! You probably want some privacy, right?” The exact opposite! I bit my lip, steeled my nerve, and shook my head. I tried to speak, but no sound came out when I did. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say anyway. “Or…” She began, then said nothing for an agonizingly long few seconds. “That is…if you’d like…I can…well,” I’d never seen Vivian this frazzled before, but it was clear she was nervous about this whole thing. What’s she got to be nervous about? Maybe she’s not really as okay with this as she says. Vivan took a deep breath and visibly composed herself, “Sorry, I guess I’m a little nervous; I just don’t want to upset or embarrass you. But, I was thinking…it’s just that, last weekend you said you had tried them but couldn’t quite put them on yourself, right?” I nodded. “So, if you want…then I could…” Say it, say it, please say it. “…help you,” she finished at last. Chapter Twenty-Four Oh, fuck, okay, stay calm, don’t seem to eager, just play it cool, okay? I swallowed hard. This had been exactly what I was hoping for but…now that it was here…could I…did I…was I sure…and…what if… Breath! I forced myself to exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I, uh…” I said weakly. I didn’t want to sound too eager, but the problem was I wasn’t sure how I should sound. What was the appropriate tone of voice for this? Reluctant but accepting? Resigned, maybe? Something like that. She’s waiting for your answer still! “Um…” I bit my lip, lowered my gaze, and nodded my head. That would have to do. “Are you…sure?” It wasn’t entirely clearly to me whether Vivian was asking because she sensed my panic or because she herself was reluctant. Oh gods, what if she only offered to be nice but really doesn’t want to do this? “Are…you?” I asked back. Vivian smiled warmly and nodded, “of course, darling girl. I told you, I’ll do whatever you need me to do to make this as easy as possible for you. And if that means helping you with your…” she gestured to the suitcase, “you know, then I’m not only willing but even happy to.” She’s happy to diaper you. Calm down, she doesn’t mean it that way. I took a deep breath and nodded, “okay, let’s do it.” But I just kept standing there. Gods, I’m really starting to panic. This is what you wanted! Things are going well! Just stay calm, okay? “Well,” Vivian took a few steps towards me and gestured to the bed, “I guess…you lay down on the bed? And I’ll get your…from your suitcase?” A surprisingly strong sense of relief washed over me as Vivian took charge, even if she seemed a little unsure of herself. I nodded and quickly stepped over to the bed and sat down. Vivian gave me a reassuring smile, then moved to my suitcase and unzipped it. It took her no time at all to find the diapers, they took up a substantial amount of room in my suitcase after all, and only slightly longer to find a pair of pajamas—a simple pair of black shorts and matching cami. She approached the bed, placed the pajamas on the bed, and starting turning the bag of diapers over in her hands, looking for an opening. For a second, her face was pure confusion, then…surprise? She looked up at me and smiled. What was that? But before I could chase that thought, Vivian ripped open the package, and all my attention was back on her. I chewed on my bottom lip as she pulled the black, plastic-backed diaper out of the bag, then set the bag down. And then Vivian was standing in front of me with a diaper in her hands ready to put it on me. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile, “this isn’t the first time I’ve done this.” I felt my cheeks heat up. At least she didn’t directly compare you to whatever babies she’s taken care of in the past. “Well, it’s mine,” and I laughed, surprising myself more than a little. “I’ll be gentle,” Vivian gave me a wink, then began unfolding the diaper. “I guess, take your pants off?” I stood back up again just long enough to unbutton pants and, hooking my thumbs under the hem of my panties, pulled down my pants and panties at the same time. Stepping out of them, I sat back down on the bed and looked up at Vivian expectantly. “Okay, um, scoot back just a little, and lay down, just like that, now, here, put your feet on the bed so you can…exactly, just like that! And I’ll just slide this under you, now down…no, up again, sorry, just need to adjust it, and back down? Okay, great,” I let Vivian guide me through the process without a word, simply following her instructions. Which, honestly, I might have needed. I felt nearly frozen with…panic? No, not quite. What’s the word for when you’re excited because one of your fantasies is literally coming true but you’re kind of overwhelmed by it and also maybe feel a little bit guilty by how you got here and worried you’re making a horrible mistake but despite all that are somehow so incredibly turned on. … You know you’re in deep when even your internal narrative is speechless. “Um, should I…use…powder?” Vivian asked cautiously, and I couldn’t have been more thankful that she’d left off the adjective. “I…didn’t bring any…” You didn’t even think about that. Vivian nodding, “we might want to get you some, but you’ll be okay for tonight.” And then she pulled the diaper up between my legs, and my heart skipped a beat. Or seven. Holding the diaper to my lower abdomen with one hand, Vivian grabbed on of the wings and pulled it tightly around my waist and fastened one of the tapes before repeating the process on the other. With that done, she quickly did the second tape on each side. And that it was all over. So much faster than when you do it. And so much nicer. “Does that feel…secure?” Vivian asked as she ran her fingers along the leak guards. I nodded. “Are you…okay?” There was more than a note of concern in her voice. I nodded. Surreal? No, but that’s really close. “Just…” I laughed weakly, “um, a little…not sure how to feel.” Vivian nodded, then gave a short laugh herself, “yeah, I get what you mean. Do you want to finish getting dressed yourself? I still need to finish getting ready for bed.” Vivian’s whole demeanor was so nonchalant that it made it hard to feel awkward about what had just happened. For all you could tell by the way she was acting, this was a perfectly normal and natural thing to have just happened. I could never overstate my gratefulness for that. “Yeah, I can do that part myself,” I smiled and sat up, already feeling more relaxed. Uncanny? It’s the center of the venn diagram between surreal, uncanny, and incredibly hot. Vivian leaned down, kissed me firmly on the lips, lingered for a moment, then stood back up. “I can’t wait to spend the next week with you, my little Lavender.” Her little pet name for me took on new meaning in this moment, and my cheeks turned scarlet. “Me too.” Vivian left the room, and I finished changing into my pajamas before climbing into bed and sliding under the covers. My diaper crinkled blissfully every step of the way. Vivian just diapered you. Vivian just diapered me! It was going to be a good week.

Eeehhhh, what's the worst that can happen? Chapter Twenty-Two “Lavender? You okay?” “Mhm,” I replied weakly and nodded my head, but I wasn’t really. Sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. I had done a little too good of a job shoving my need to pee to the back of my brain and now it was coming back with a vengeance. This was always the end game, wasn’t it? It was, but… But what? But I was having second thoughts now that the moment was upon me, not least of all because Vivian had just shared something really special and intimate. Too bad it was a little too late for second thoughts. That fact became painfully obvious as another wave of fresh pain passed through me and my panties grew damp. “Are you sure?” Vivian was asking, but she seemed far away. Why are you even bothering to fight it? This is what you were waiting for; you literally thought about peeing your pants as a distraction just minutes ago, and now you’re having second thoughts? Why was I fighting it? I took a deep breath, said a small prayer that I wasn’t make a huge mistake, and stopped fighting it. This was easier said than done; it was an effort of sheer willpower to stop fighting it—potty training is engraved in our brain like that—but I had a lot of practice. My body took over almost immediately, and the crotch and seat of my shortalls quickly became soaked. I looked up at Vivian and put on my best mix of worried and afraid. “Lavender?” Vivian’s face contorted into confused concern as she put the spoon down and began approaching me. “What’s wrong, darling?” I couldn’t have answered her no matter how much I wanted to; I felt completely frozen. My bladder was still emptying itself, and all I could do was sit there. Fortunately, I didn’t need to answer her. The sound of pee dripping off the stool and splashing to the ground answered for me. Vivian looked down at the floor, then back up at me, her face softening. “Oh, Lavender,” she said, clearly at a bit of a loss. “I’m sorry,” I blurted out at last as the stream tapered off to a trinkle and then nothing. “I’m so sorry, Vivian,” I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted the salty tears on my lips. “I…I just had to go so badly all of the sudden and…and…” My words trailed off. All I could do was look at Vivian helplessly. Her face was so gentle and kind, but also so full of pity. It was too much, the dam broke and the tears turned into full-on sobs. The accident may have been contrived, but the panic and fear and the tears were all real. Not to mention the shame. “Lavender, darling, sweetheart,” Vivian crossed the small space between us in the blink of an eye and hugged me, holding me close to her chest, and began slowly stroking the back of my head as I cried into her chest. “It’s really okay, my little Lavender, everything is okay, all right? We’re going to get you all cleaned up and sorted out, okay?” “Okay,” I muttered through snot and tears. I was honestly a little surprised at myself for crying so much, but the look of pity on Vivian’s face had been too much for me. But maybe I just felt ashamed over how misplaced the pity was. We stayed like that for a long time, Vivian holding me while she stroked my hair and made soft, reassuring noises while I focused on my breathing and tried to calm down. Eventually, the tears dried up. “Here,” Vivian said softly as she grabbed some nearby paper towels, “I know these are kind of rough, but let’s try to get your face cleaned up a little, okay?” I nodded as Vivian went to work wiping tears and snot off my face. She stopped short of blowing my nose for me, instead handing me a fresh paper towel when she was done and instructing me to blow my nose. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated, completely and utterly at a lose for what else to say or do. This had been my end-game; it had been impossible for me to effectively plan for what came next since so much hinged on Vivian’s reaction. I was rudderless now, drifting in unknown waters, my only certainty was where the currents were taking me…at least, I hoped I knew. “That’s enough apologies,” Vivian said softly but sternly, “I won’t have you feeling guilty or bad for things you can’t help, okay? It was just an accident, and everything is okay.” Ouch, right in the guilty conscience. I nodded and sniffled, resisting the urge to start crying all over again out of sheer guilt. “Fortunately,” Vivian said, her voice lightening up, “you have plenty of clothes with you, so we can get you changed, and I can toss these clothes in the laundry and have them ready to be packed in your suitcase by tomorrow morning before we leave, okay?” “Okay,” I nodded again. “Okay,” Vivian smiled reassuringly at me and took my hand, “do you want to take a bath?” I shook my head, “I think maybe just a quick shower?” “That’s a lovely idea,” Vivian squeezed my hand and started leading me out of the kitchen and towards the upstairs bathroom. “You can just go ahead and get yourself all cleaned up and into some fresh clothes. By the time your done, dinner will be almost ready, all right?” I simply nodded and allowed myself to be lead upstairs and back to the bathroom I had cleaned myself up in after so many accidents already. When we arrived, Vivian, like she usually did, started the water for me, adjusting the knob until she decided the water was hot enough, the only difference this time being that instead of plugging the tub and allowing it to fill when she had found the right temperature, she pulled the plunger that switched the water from the faucet to the shower head. I stood there awkwardly watching her in silence the whole time. When she was done, I expected her to leave as she usually did with instructions for me leave my clothes in the hallway, but instead she turned to me and gave me a quizzical look. “Okay!” She said brightly, her confusion seeming to dissipate quickly. She closed the distance between us and started undoing the clasps on my shortalls. “Let’s go ahead and get you out of these.” My cheeks turned a new shade of red, but I bit my lip and let her continue. You can’t just let her peel you out of pissy clothes! Why can’t I? Because…it’s…embarrassing? More so than pissing myself in her kitchen? “There we go,” Vivian said as she undid the second clasp and let the shortall fall to the floor around my ankles. “Oops,” Vivian said looking down,” I guess we should have taken your shoes off first, huh Lavender?” She gave me a playful smile and bent down to start untying my high-tops. This is so awkward, shouldn’t you like…say something? Say what? Anything! But I was at a complete loss. I simply stood there in my t-shirt and wet panties, my shortalls around my ankles, as Vivian untied and removes my shoes and socks. “Okay,” she said when she was down, “step out!” I followed her directions and stepped out of my sodden shortalls. “Now, arms up!” She said with a smile as she stood back up and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I blushed as I complied, and for the first time since this little undressing routine had started, a shy smile graced my lips. “There’s a smile,” Vivian said as she dropped my shirt in a pile with the rest of my clothes and pinched my cheek. “Are you feeling a little better now that you’re almost out of those icky clothes?” Icky? That’s not the kind of word Vivian would usually use… It wasn’t, but I just smiled and nodded, “um, I can…do the rest…” I offered with a blush, secretly hoping she’d turn it down. “Don’t be so bashful,” she dismissed my offer with a wave of her hand before reaching around my torso to unbuckle my bra, “it’s not like this is the first time I’ve undressed you.” “I know, but…it’s…different…” “I guess a little,” she dropped my bra into the pile and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of my panties, “but let me take care of my little Lavender, okay?” Okay, Miss Vivian. “Okay…Vivian,” I blushed almost as hard as if I had said the whole thought out loud, then added a polite but subdued, “thank you.” “You’re quite welcome, darling,” Vivian said as she gathered up my clothes in her arms. “Shall I grab something from your suitcase for you to change into?” I nodded my head, “yes, please.” With assurances that she would be right back with fresh clothes, Vivian finally left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Well, that went…pretty well? Define “pretty well.” I set about trying to find a hair tie to keep my hair from getting wet in the shower and quickly found one in the vanity above the sink. With my hair tied up, I climbed into the shower and set about cleaning the pee of my skin. Well, it wasn’t worst-case scenario. I have to admit, it was not. And she undressed you, like a toddler. I could feel my whole-body blush as I thought about it again. Then I blushed deeper as I realized Vivian was going to have to go into my suitcases to get clothes. The suitcases where my diapers and pull-ups are. Maybe she’ll bring you a pull-up instead of panties. Maybe she’ll see them in your suitcase and realize they are the much more appropriate undergarment for a girl as little as you are. “Now, sweetheart,” I imagined Vivian saying as she came back into the bathroom holding a pile of my clothes with a pull-up on top, “I don’t want you to fuss about this, okay? But your accidents are getting a little out of control, and I think it’s time we put you back in pull-ups, okay?” As I showered, I played through variations of that scenario, resisting the urge to do more than just imagine them. When I was finished a few minutes later, I pulled back the shower curtain to find a small pile of my clothes sitting on the sink. Vivian had, apparently, slipped in and out of the bathroom without me noticing. I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed by the pair of panties sitting on top.

You're definitely not the first to theorize that might be the case!