RawrJames

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND CHAPTER 6 - Power War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, two communities prepare for war. Secrets haunt both sides, and tensions are rising, yet there are still those who fight for peace. But it may be too late, for another threat looms on the horizon, and war... war never changes. *** “Please, stay in Ashstone for the night.” Dawson said as she showed us out of her compound. Guards were everywhere now, as if they had been told to hold back until the negotiations had been completed. “The forest is dangerous in the dark. Mister Montgomery, you’re welcome to stay with me here. Claudia, if you would be so kind as to show these two back to your home and make them comfortable, that would be mighty appreciated.” Dawson didn’t try to hide her sly grin. Claudia, however, seemed unfased. “Yes Miss Dawson.” She said, and gave me a knowing nod. Maybe things weren’t so bad between us after-all? I sent Basil a quick message to meet us there. Charles caught my arm before we could leave. “Before you go, report back home with what we have. Tell them to arrive here at mid-day tomorrow.” I nodded, unsure of why Charles was getting me to contact home instead of doing it himself. Before I had a chance to question him, he was taken inside by the mayor. “Tell me,” Dawson said as her voice faded, “What is it like in the depths of Vault 86?” And the doors shut before I could hear more. Claudia led us through a back-door to avoid the crowds, and quietly we followed back to her shack. I hadn’t realised how late it had become, the sun was already sinking in the sky. I had to stop and stare for a moment. The sun was so low it had become an brilliant disk hovering in the sky. Clouds of all shapes and sizes ran like mountain ranges just above the sun, and golden rays of light burst through through the haze in the distance. I could feel my eyes begin to water. “Come on you two!” Claudia insisted, and I realised Ellie was staring as well, eyes wide and slack-jawed. “Do you see this every night?” Ellie asked. She was teary-eyed too, stunned at the magnificent sight. “I goes on forever.” I said as the wind picked up. In that moment, I almost felt like it could swoop me up and take me up into the skies. Claudia glanced to the sky as well, and despite her urgency, her face seemed to soften. The tension in her throat loosened. “Not every night. Some nights are special.” I found myself smiling at Claudia despite all that had happened. When she saw me, she smiled back. Suddenly the sun didn’t seem half as bright, not compared to that smile. “C’mon let’s go.” She said, and reluctantly, we carried on. As soon as we got to Claudia’s place she shut the door behind us and I unpopped the buttons of my vault onsie, sticking out my butt. “Basil! Check my diaper!” Basil’s eyestalk twisted to Ellie. “I don’t think it’s you who’s in need of a change, sir...” “No, don’t check me for a stinky, I need you to check the label! Does it have the mayor’s name on it?” As Basil floated over to check, the other two gave me confused looks. “By golly,” Basil said, poking my soggy padding, “You’re right sir! In tiny print, it says Dawson’s Diapers!” I stood up triumphantly. “I knew it!” It had been bugging me for days now, but Dawson’s confession had been the clue I needed—a clue that had been branded on all of our diapered butts, and had been for the past eighty years. “All this time...” Claudia sunk into her couch. “All this time, she’s been the one making diapers?” I shook my head. “Not her.” “Nathan... Mayor Dawson’s brother.” Claudia gasped. “Yeah, I’ll bet that’s where they’ve been getting your diapers from.” The look of betrayl on Claudia’s face was palpable. “She never told us any of this.” Her hands were balled into tight fists. “Well, what do we do?” Ellie asked, and me and Claudia locked eyes. Suddenly I felt my cheeks grow warm. This was the closest the two of us had been in days, and the pain of making Claudia upset was still very raw. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. I wanted to say something and was going to speak, but Claudia looked as if she wanted to say something too. I decided to let her go first. She seemed to have the same idea and waited for me. In the end neither of us had the courage. There was only a long silence. “I’ll go get us some tea.” Claudia said eventually, and awkwardly she got up from the couch. She dissapeared behind a blanket that had been set up to divide the rooms, some machine parts that had been stringed together and hung from the ceiling tinkled as she passed them. When she left, I asked Basil to wait outside and watch the shack for intruders. “Discreetly.” I added, remembering the last time I asked him to guard us. Then, when I was sure it was quiet, I quicklly scooted over to Ellie. The smell of her dirty diaper hit my nose immedietly, and I almost had to move away again. “Sorry!” She whispered, “The ration packs back at camp did not agree with me.” “Leave getting changed any longer and you’re at risk of having a blowout.” I warned, and to my surpise, Ellie lowered her head in shame. “It may be a little late for that...” “Oh, El.” “I really had to go! Besides, Dawson deserved it. You heard the way that fartface spoke to us!” I had to admit, it felt really good seeing Dawson’s face when Ellie had done her dirty deed. Still, she was long past needing a change. I got her to lean forward a little whilst I inspected the damage. Sure enough, Ellie’s mess had crept up the back of her diaper, and there was a thin brown stain on her onesie at the rim of her diaper. “Should I ask Claudia if it’s okay to change? How do surface people change diapers?” “I guess ... I guess that’s up to you.” I said carefully. “Still don’t want to talk to her huh? You know you'll have to talk at some point.” I began to shake my head, but found myself saying, “I know.” “Why are you angry with her? For leaving?” “I’m not angry.” I admitted, “Not with her.” My tummy was churning just talking about it with Ellie, how was I supposed to actually talk to Claudia about it if I could barely handle that? “I don’t want to say something stupid again and make things worse.” “Could things be any worse?” Ellie raised her eyebrow. “She let us stay in her home, that’s gotta count for something right? I know Dawson said she should, but somehow I don’t think she’d listen to Dawson if she really hated us.” I didn’t know if I truly did beleive that or I just wanted to, but it was the only thing that made sense to me right now. Ellie shrugged noncommitally, and we both waited for Claudia to bring out our sippy cups. Except, when she returned, she didn’t have sippy cups at all. She had a tray of what looked like cups from a toy-tea set we would play with back in the Vault. She handed one to each of us and strangely they weren’t made of plastic. I inspected the hot liquid in the cup. “This is tea?” I didn’t smell like how I imagined it. I lifted the cup to my mouth and gave it a sip. It was suprisingly refreshing. I took another sip. “Yeah, mint tea, I make it myself. They don’t have tea in the Vault?” Claudia took a seat opposite and held the mug in both hands, somehow immune to the scalding heat. “No.” Ellie chimed in, she leant carefully forward as if she was sat on a needle. It might have looked strange to anyone else, but I knew she was doing her best not to get her mess everywhere. Then we’d be in real trouble. “We drink milk.” “Like ... from a cow?” “No silly! From a--” “Actually,” Claudia held up her hand, “I don’t want to know where from.” And she took a few sips of her tea to emphasise her point. We sat there for a long while, in the silence of the evening. Claudia’s windows were still covered in tarp but the last of the daylight still shone through and lit the entire room orange. It was strange, despite the bright colours and carefully tuned lights of the Vault, everything up here just seemed so much more vibrant. Like someone had taken crayons and painted the whole world in sunlight. When the sun had finally sunk I turned back to find Claudia staring at me. She quickly looked away, embarassed. Then, her expression shifted. I saw her nose twitch, her eyes dart around the room, before they landed squarely on Ellie. Ellie sputtered out a nervous chuckle. “Sowwy.” She said, her shoulders folding into her body. “Oh yeah, I forgot you pooped your pants in there.” She said. “Do you have spares?” “In my bag.” Claudia sighed, “Go get one then, and lie down here.” “Are you sure?” Ellie asked, and Claudia shrugged, scrunched up her face before eventually landing on a smile and a nod. “Yeah, come on.” Ellie quickly pulled out a fresh diaper from her pack. It crinkled loudly, still crisp and unused, with a bright blue ‘Vault 86’ print on the front. And on the back, Dawson’s Diapers. They had been her’s all along, and we had never even known. What did that make the Vault? Did Dawson have a claim to it? Did she have a claim to our way of life? “You too, Joe.” Ellie said, looking up at me from the floor. “Me?” “Sure, you’ve changed loads of diapees.” It was true, but the thought of working with Claudia was suddenly terrifying. A part of me knew that I was making a bigger deal out of this than it needed to be, but everything was just so confusing. My brain was a mix of emotions, from fear to excitment, to anger at Dawson. I slowly approached the two of them. Claudia’s hands hovered just above the tapes, glancing nervously to Ellie. “Umm...Claudia,” I asked, “Have you done this before?” “Once or twice, but...” She looked down at Ellie, and the stinky mess she had made. “Only on myself. I may need help.” “Okay.” I said, “But I need to do something first.” Quickly, I ran to my pack. Even with the chaotic departure this morning, I decided to pack Mr Fancypants for moral support. He had been patiently waiting in my backpack since then, and now I pulled him free. “You just sit here Mr Fancypants, and watch us.” I placed him on the couch so he had a good view. Now I could look to him whenever I got nervous. Oh boy, did I need his help now. I decided it would be best to get the apology out the way. Ellie was right, I needed to do this even if I really didn’t want to. I sat down beside Claudia and opened my mouth to speak. Here we go. but before I could say anything, Claudia was up on her feet again. “I’ll just get some water.” She said, as if she was oblivous to my anxiety. She probably was, or maybe she was just as nervous as me. I glanced up to Mr Fancypants, and as usual he had that stoic understanding about him. How did that fuzzy old bear stay so calm? In an effort to distract myself, I began to unbutton Ellie’s onesie. “Jeez El, you really made a mess, didn’t you?” Brown poop had somehow worked it’s way through the legholes and all the way up the back of her diaper, staining parts of her onesie brown where it had made contact. “Hehehe, sorry.” If her giggling was anything to go by, she didn’t seem too sorry about it. These sorts of accidents weren’t so common in the Vault, where the Miss-Nanny’s would change us whenever we needed it. Though, out of everyone I knew, Ellie certainly had the highest frequency of blowouts. “Lets get this off you,” I sighed, and Ellie lifted her arms as I pulled off her onesie. Claudia quickly returned with a bucket, and was greeted by a naked Ellie laying in only a dirty diaper of her own making. “Oh—I--” “She dirtied the onesie.” I sighed, “I had to take it off.” “I think I have a spare shirt around here somewhere.” Claudia said, but before she went off to find one, Ellie stopped her. “Don’t worry!” she said. It was common for everyone go without onesies in the Vault, especially when we felt comfortable around the people we were with. But something about Ellie’s look of disgust at the thought of wearing a dirty, possibly mildly radio-active shirt, made me think that comfort was not her main motivation. “I’ll be fine until it dries.” Ellie said. Claudia shrugged and began to scrub away at the onesie whilst I ploughed ahead with the diaper change. When I opened the brown-stained padding, her stink hit us like a gust of fowl wind. “Sorry, I ... I think this might be the worst it’s ever been. Maybe it’s all these ration-packs.” She seemed as surprised as us. “Listen, Claudia,” She continued as I began to wipe with a damp rag, “I’m sorry about my Mommy. She was a real meanie back in the camp, and I am really ashamed that she said those things to you.” I listened silently as she spoke, suddenly thankful that Ellie had been the one to bring up the topic. She gave me a subtle, knowing glance. I suddenly felt even more thankful to have such a good freind as her. “You shouldn’t be,” Claudia said, getting the last of Ellie’s poop out of her onesie, “Your mommy isn’t you.” But were people the product of where they came from? I couldn’t stop the thought worming it’s way into my head. I had come to realise that we really were all just little children out of their depth. Our lives were being run by mechanisms beyond our understanding. What other secrets were deciding our lives for us? Dawson had known about the vault for at least her entire life, and she had chosen to withold that information from her own people. Was Claudia, from this strange, selfish people, just like Dawson? No. Somehow I knew that couldn’t be the case. I got so lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t hear Ellie speak up. “Thank you for helping us tonight, it means so much, doesn’t it Joe?” She gave me a look. “Uh-huh.” I nodded. Ellie’s tushy was nice and clean now. I put the dirty rag aside and unfolded the fresh diaper. “It’s nothing...” Claudia said quietly, but slowly she continued. “It’s just, nobody has ever welcomed me like y’all have. For the first time, I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like I had a purpose again. A ... home.” “Isn’t this your home?” I asked. “Sure, sometimes. But it ain’t the same. I didn’t choose this place, this town. Sure I grew up here, but that don’t mean it was any sort of home. I’ve done the best I can but ...” She trailed off. “...but, when you found us,” I continued for her, “You found a true home.” For once I wasn’t nervous, I knew what I had said was true. Claudia nodded, and smiled. “I’m so sorry.” I said, “I should have realised sooner.” “You thought I was exploiting you?” I nodded hesitantly. “But I was wrong to think that.” “No,” Claudia’s eyes grew intense, “I would have thought the same were I in your postion. Besides, you can’t have known I had found a home with the Vault, because I didn’t even know it at the time. Not until you said what you did back in camp. Thruthfully, I was surprised at how much your words hurt.” I felt as if I had taken a dagger to the heart. “Then, the only thing left was to come back here to see if what you said was true. I had to see if I felt at home in Ashstone, to get rid of my doubts. When I got back, I realised my mistake.” I could see tears welling up in her eyes for the second time today, something I would never have expected from the hardened mechanic I had met a few days ago. Without thinking I launched into a hug, wrapping my arms around her. Claudia jumped, but seemed to relax in my arms. “Sorry,” I said, “Is this okay?” Her answer was to respond in kind. I felt her arms under mine, wrapped comfortingly around me. It was in that perfect moment, embracing eachother as if we had been freinds all our lives, that I realised a truth--our lives were our own and no-one elses. That began with our diapers. From the moment we taped them around our waist we claimed any one diaper as our own. When we used them, we put our own mark on them, a little bit of ourselves. Ellie, Me, even Claudia. Everyone who chose them had as much a claim as Dawson did. The same was true with the people we met. We choose who to give a little bit of ourselves too, who to keep close and who to push away. I chose Mommy, Ellie, and Claudia. They were my family. We stayed there, pressed as close together as we could get, until Ellie cleared her throat. “Guys, this is sweet and all, but if you could finish changing me first... then we should probably call the Vault before they get worried.” Slowly, we both looked to Ellie. Oh no. Claudia had Ellie taped up again in moments, whilst I dialed the Vault through my pip-boy. “Joe?” Mom’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey Mom!” “Joseph Richard Palmer, why haven’t you been in contact?” Mom’s voice almost blew out the small speakers on my Pip-boy. Pehaps we should have made contacting the vault a priority... whoops. “Sorry Mom...” I said, suddenly feeling a little upset at myself. “We were so worried about you! I was worried about you! Tell me you’re okay now?” “Yeah, we’re fine. Ellie too.” “Good. I’m glad you’re all okay, but you were a naughty boy for not telling us sooner. Never do that again!” “Okay.” I said, and when I looked up I saw Ellie and Claudia stifling giggles. “Now, tell me everything that happened.” We spent the next five or so minuites doing just that. We told Mom about the town, about the negotiations with Dawson and about her family connection to our prized resource. “I see.” Mom said after we had finished. My Pip-boy went static as she considered all we had told her. Then it crackled back into life. “Does she have any motivation, do you think?” “Not that I can tell.” I said, feeling a little deflated. “Though she seemed angry when I mentioned her brother in Victoria.” “Mmm. We’ll do some digging here and find out what they might want. It’s going to be a long night. Where are you now?” “Claudia’s” I said. My Mom paused. Then she said, “Honey, are you sure that’s safe?” Without thinking, I said, “Yes, I trust her with my life.” “Is she there with you now?” “Yes.” I looked up at Claudia, her eyes were glittery and wet, and there was a big smile on her face. I gave her an encouraging nod. “Miss Claudia, if my little boy trusts you then I do too.” Mom paused again, adding gravitas to her next words. When she said them, they came with a power few could convey across a little radio speaker. “Congratulations, little one. You’re an honarary member of Vault 86.” When I glanced to Claudia again, I could see tears rolling down her cheek. “Now get some sleep, all of you.” Mom said, “I love you, my baby boy.” “Love you too.” I replied, and just like that the line cut out. We sat there in silence a moment, until Claudia spoke quietly. “Did she mean it? What your Mom said about me being an honarary member?” “Of course.” “And do you ... really trust me?” There was a sincerity to the way she spoke. She wasn’t angry at all, there was only hope in her voice. “Always.” We all sat in silence for a long time. It wasn’t that we didn’t have anything to say to eachother, more that it didn’t need to be said. An understanding, deeper than anything I had felt before, fell upon the three of us that evening, a harmony that I knew would never break. Eventually I felt my eyelids grow heavy, and slowly I fell asleep on Claudia’s overstuffed couch. *** Ashtone’s siren woke me up with a start. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and details came to me slowly. I realised that my paci had fallen out during the night again. I was clinging tightly to Mr Fancypants. It had been the best sleep I had gotten in a long time, especially since being on the surface. I’d slept like a baby. Only when I finally sat up did I realise that my diaper had leaked again. In all the drama of last night, I had forgotten to change it, that combined with my heavy sleep... Well it was more than a little soaked. From the back door of her shack, Claudia stumbled in, still half asleep. “Damn sirens.” she said, and then paused, noticing me, and smiled suddenly. “Wakey wakey, little baby.” “Claudia? You’re up early.” I said, then popped my paci back in my mouth to calm my nerves. Today was going to be busy, and stressful. “Yeah, I had to take care of some business out the back.” she seemed oddly satisfied with something, though I couldn’t tell what. She walked around in just a diaper and a vest, having thrown her khakis on the floor somewhere. “Oh, it looks like you had a leaky accident, huh?” “Yeah...sowwy...” I said. “I fink I stained your cowch.” Claudia waved a hand, “Oh, it’s fine. That couch has seen far worse than a little pee-stain I’ll tell ya. Come on, let’s get you changed. We should probably see what the racket’s about huh?” I nodded shyly, but let Claudia guide me off the couch and onto the floor, before she got to her knees. She had gotten quick at changing diapers. Soon, she had me completely wiped down and was taping me up again. “You sure did a number on this thing.” She had wrapped the used diaper into a tight little package, and was hefting it in her hand. “Who knew pee could be so heavy?” My face burned with embarassment, and I had to shut my eyes to escape Claudia’s teasing smirk. Yet, I couldn’t help but sport a mad grin. “I’m surprised you’re not leaky yet!” I said. As if feeding off my own embarassment, Claudia’s face went crimson, but she didn’t shy away. She gave the front of her diaper a pat. “It is looking a little yellow...” She said, deliberately hovering her wet waist near my head and giving it a pat. “But I’m sure it can hold a little more. Besides I doubt you would know how to change one of these. You can barely change yourself, diaper boy.” I almost squeaked out of embarassment, but managed to control myself. Taking time to recover, I watched silently as Claudia went over to her workbench and reached for her new project. It was a big weapon, a long, fat barrel with a big wooden stock at the other end. I had fallen to sleep last night with her still working on it. It looked ridiculous in Claudia’s hands, but she seemed completley comfortable with it. “It’s an old assault rifle,” she said, noticing my questioning glance, “My Dad got it years ago when he was stationed in the North.” “Wow, does Ashstone have a lot of weapons?” I asked, suddenly a little nervous. Claudia noticed my anxiety. “Oh, Don’t worry. We’re practically using spears nowdays, only Dawson’s guard have weapons, maybe one or two others besides myself in town. When I was little, my father helped to fight of the Pinkletons you see. They came to raid Ahstone, and he was in Dawson’s guard. We held them off but he ...” her voice cracked a little, “He died in the fighting.” “I’m sorry.” I said, “My Daddy died fighting alongside my Mom. I was only little, and don’t really remember.” I said though that wasn’t entirely true. Sometimes I thought I remembered details of my Dad, little things. His voice, a lullaby in the dark of the vault... “There was fighting in the Vault?” “Uh-huh. Some of the Miss Nanny’s designed to take care of us malfunctioned, and tried to kill us. But people like my parents, and Florence, fought back. “Holy shit. I ... would never have guessed.” “Yeah...” I said, though my mind drifted elsewhere. “Thank you, Claudia. For all your help.” Claudia’s face lit up. “Now that I’m an honorary member, it’s my duty to help the Vault now too!” she said, patting the front of her diaper. “Just like it’s your duty to go wake miss drool-puddle up.” We both giggled and I looked over to Ellie. She had fallen asleep with her diapered butt in the air, and had in fact drooled all over Claudia’s carpet. I gave her a poke, and she jolted awake. Before we left for the hill, each of us prepared our weapons, and Basil gave each of our diapers an inspection. He deemed each of us clean enough to go out, “Your diaper could do with a change, Miss Claudia,” he said, as Claudia pulled her khaki’s on, “But if you promise to be a big girl, and not have any more accidents, it can wait until later.” This made Claudia blush. A lot. She was the first out the door, her assault rifle in hand. Me and Ellie followed behind her. It was almost like having an armed escort. I felt suddenly braver, as if the three of us could take on the world single-handedly. “Ah, there are the babies!” Dawson called to us as we made our way down the street. She had gathered a small group of guards around her. The crowds had come out again as well, though Dawson had better prepared to hold them back this time. More guards pushed the crowds to the side to let us through. The number of armed men and women made me a little nervous, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had also been an elaborate power-play by Dawson. “Where’s Charles?” Ellie said. It took me a moment to realise that he wasn’t with Dawson. Dawson grinned. “He’s gone to meet your Vault. He said it was urgent.” I scowled at Dawson. “We should be going as well.” I turned, and was met by one of the guards, her rifle held threateaningly before her. “Now now,” Dawson said, “I never gave you permission to leave.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and came close to me, whispering in my ear. She had that tone of voice that made me feel small again, helpless. “I know you want to go home, baby, but you can meet your Mommy when she arrives later today. I’m sure you can be a big boy and wait that long?” “We’re not your hostages.” I said barely louder than a whisper. Her tone suddenly shifted. “No, you’re not.” She moved back and spoke to the three of us now, “I prefer the term ‘under my care.’ You’re all babies after all, and the world outside is dangerous. If anything happened to you, the negotiations will dissolve.” Ellie looked at me, and I sighed. Unfortunately, I had to accept that this time Dawson was right. “Fine.” I said, “We’ll stay with you for now.” We followed Dawson and her guards to the edge of town. People lined the streets to see us off, and bodly, I decided to unpop the buttons on my onesie. I got a glare from Dawson, and a curious look from Ellie, but neither said anything. I belonged in diapers, I had claimed them, so why should I hide them? I told Basil to go and tell my Mom we were all right, then wait for us near Ashstone. “Very good sir.” he said, and then he zipped off. As we came out of Ashstone, the smooth roads were replaced weedy, lumpy concrete. Tall thistles and grass had mostly grown over the streets, making it more difficult to walk. Added to this were the steep hills we had to climb. Claudia came up beside me just as we were going up the hill we had picked for the negotiations. “How are you going so fast?” She said, out of breath. “It’s impossible to walk in these things!” She gestured vaguely to her diapered waist. She did have quite a stiff waddle to her movements, one that came with the unpracticed diaper-wearer. She raised an eyebrow when I giggled, and I quickly covered my mouth. “Sorry, I guess the Vault diapers are slightly thicker than you’re used to.” “You’re fighting to hard.” Ellie said from Claudia’s other side. “We spread out legs a little wider and embrace the waddle. Lean into it. See, look at Joe.” I demonstrated for her with an exagerated waddle, my crisp-white padded butt sticking out behind me as I climbed the hill. “Haha, okay, okay I get it.” Claudia said. “Like this?” she gave it a go, and immedietly she seemed more comfortable. “Exactly!” I said, and began to speed up beside her. Claudia quickly got the idea and soon we were racing to the top of the hill. By the time we got to the top, the two of us were giggling madly. “Joe?” A familiar voice said. I spun around to face my Mom. She was already at the top of the hill, standing right there with a crowd from the Vault. My heart jumped in my chest, and I ran toward her. “Mommy!” I shouted and opened my arms. I almost smashed into her, but she didn’t mind. Her arms around my chest felt so comforting. Our hug lasted until Dawson’s calculating voice broke it. “You must be the Overseer?” she held out a hand for Mom, like she had for us yesterday. I gave Mom a warning glance. Taking note, Mom hesitantly took Dawson’s hand and introdudced herself. “Alice Palmer. Pleasure. You must be Mayor Dawson.” “Please, call me Bryony.” Mom nodded. “It’s one heck of a place you have here.” “And you have a clever little group of messengers.” Dawson nodded towards us, and I couldn’t help but catch the condascending tone in her voice. Mom seemed to ignore it, and raised her head a little, gushing with pride. “Oh, I know, they’re our very best. Why don’t we sit down?” Two chairs had been placed either side of a small table. Dawson sat behind one, and Mom sat behind the other. I stood behind Mom, with the rest of Vault 86. All of them were dressed in onesies and diapers, some of which were far from clean judging by the smell. Opposite, important people from Ashstone gathered behind Dawson, so confident and adult. I craned my head to see if I could spot Charles, but he was nowhere to be seen. Strange. Dawson also seemed to give the members of Vault a once-over. “So, let’s get to business.” Dawson said after both parties had settled, “What made you come up to the surface now? Why not just stay in your little bunker forever? You seemed to be doing quite well down there.” “A change of scenery.” Mom said, and the corner of Dawson’s mouth twitched. The two of them seemed to be studying eachother, locked eyes. The tension between the two was electric, and terrifying, like a bomb that could explode at any moment. “Quite the risk for a group of oversized babies to take.” Dawson leaned back. She seemed completely in her element here, completely in control. “It was a risk,” Mom said, “But fortunately we have freinds on the surface willing to help.” “Ha! If you beleive we’re freinds you’re more naive than I thought.” “Perhaps we can change that. You seem to be in need of some freinds at the moment.” “What makes you say that?” Dawson narrowed her eyes. “We’re fully aware of life up here, how dangerous it is. We’ve been gathering data for a while to assess whether it’s okay to come out of the Vault. Also, I’m well informed that there are two rival settlements near here that are not very kind toward you.” For the first time since I had met her, I saw genuine rage on Dawson’s face. She hadn’t lost control, but her confidence had become focused into a beam of pure anger. “Collecting data?” “Yes, apparently for many years now--” “You know what life is like up here and you still never came to help us? Ha! And you come offering freindship.” Mom seemed offended. “How dare you--” she stood, and Dawson rose to meat her. The two leant angrily over the table. They were practically spitting at one another. “Let me tell you a little lesson.” Dawson said, rage fuelling her voice, “You can only be afraid of the surface—radroaches, raiders, super mutants—for so long. Eventually the twisted reality of life becomes so normal you just go along with it without thinking. Children are born into this world knowing nothing of what came before, to them, this sick place is normal. Can you imagine how that feels?” Dawson waited for an answer, but Mom stayed quiet, too stunned to speak. “No.” Dawson continued, “You’ve been hiding in your nursery for the past hundred years, wasting away time pooping your pants and sucking on binkies, too afraid to help the surface world, even with all that untouched pre-war tech. You’ve had an easy ride, let us do all the hard work. And you want to negotiate? Ha!” Dawson sat back down, a deep defeat in her voice. I had the sense that this was the woman behind all those masks, this was the real Dawson we saw before us now. Or as close to it as we could get. And I felt sorry for her. Mom stared down at the table, a deep shame across her face. Then Dawson turned to me. “And let me tell you something kid, something even your own Mother hid from you. When these guys took over your Vault, they found something your old Overseer was keeping from you. Charles told me himself. Vault 86, it was all a big experiment! How stupid is that!” It felt like the entire world paused around me in that moment. Dawson was looking at me, exasperated, Claudia glared at Dawson, and Ellie looked as confused as I felt. I couldn’t see Mom’s expression. “No.” I whispered. “I don’t beleive you.” “Oh yes.” Dawson smile was savage. “Originally, your Vault was designed to be a creche for infants, but when so many adults came to stay, the leaders of your Vault pivoted. You were all given diapers to mess around in, cozy little cribs and pacifiers to make you pliable. Soft. Your every need was taken care of--changes, feeding, entertainment, all of it. Completley carefree. They wanted to see if you could survive on the surface after being pampered so long. Vault 86 was designed to be a paradise, kid. Designed to be the opposite of this hellscape.” “No!” I shouted. I knew it couldn’t be true, Dawson was lying. There was a moment’s silence, and I could see Mom’s face boiling with silent rage. “Tell them Mommy!” I shouted, “They’re just trying to get inside our heads! Tell them they’re wrong!” Mom didn’t look at me. For some reason, her lack of aknowledgement hurt more than anything else, even what she said next. “I can’t.” She whispered. “Why not?” “Because ...” Her face twisted, “Because she’s right, darlin’.” Mom was smiling, or maybe grimacing, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I didn’t get the chance to say last night, but she’s right.” My chest tightened. I felt myself heaving, on the verge of tears. How could they have kept this from us? “When did you find out?” I asked. Mom looked over to Florence, who had made her way to the front of the crowd, and was glaring at Dawson. I still couldn’t see Charles anywhere, but the rest of the Vault were whispering to eachother. Even they hadn’t known. Eventully, Mom seemed to decide that the only way to get through this was to tell the truth. She took a deep breath, and stood. “Whilst we were going through Carmicheal’s records, we discovered that our vault was indeed intended as an experiment. This information was kept from us until a few days ago.” Gasps and more whispers spread through the members of the Vault who had gathered here. I could see shock on some of their faces—Jamie, August, Mister Martinez, and the other faces I had grown up around. “I am sorry for not telling you sooner, but we had to be sure that we could get through it. Well, I beleive now is that time. We will get through this. Do not forget,” My mom raised her voice, power streaming from her every word, “Do not forget the struggles we have been through. We may have lived in ignorance, but we overthrew that old system. We’re here now, and we will be here in the future! Only through teamwork, by banding together again, will we get through this.” Despite her height, my mommy seemed as tall as anyone else in Ashstone then, taller even. Then she turned to Dawson. “How dare you try and tear us apart. I don’t know what Charles told you, but maybe it’s time we gave you a history lesson. The people who made the Vault never intended to test us on the surface. Their test was inside the Vault. In those records we found--” her voice cracked, but she continuied, “We found that they designed the Miss-Nanny’s and Mr-Handy’s that took care of us to malfunction, so they would begin to attack us instead of helping us. They wanted to see if we were strong enough to survive. Well guess what. We were.” I had to take a step back, and saw Mom take in a deep breath, steadying herself. “So many people were killed.” Her voice went quiet, and I could tell she was thinking about Dad. But then, she stood tall again. “Yet we fought back. I fought back. We fought a hard and bloody war, that we survuved. So you see, we may not understand the dangers up here, but do not think that we have not had to fight for our way of life, Dawson. And if needs must, we will do it again!” Both sides were stunned into silence, quieted by her words. I was so proud that those words had come from my Mommy. I looked to Dawson, expecting some sort of sarcastic response. When she answered however, it was like a bucket of water had extinguished all the conflicting emotion inside me. “I’m ... sorry.” Dawson said, “I didn’t know.” In her eyes, I saw she had a newfound respect for Vault 86. I looked back at the small crowd of diaper-clad people. Yes, we were babies, all of us, but we were also so much more than that. We were survivors as much as the people of Ashstone. Then, Dawson cracked a smile. “You fought of Mr-Handy’s in diapers.” “Full diapers, sometimes.” My mom said, smiling tiredly. Dawson actually laughed. She gave a little chuckle, the most genuine thing I had ever seen from her. But Mom wasn’t done yet. “Listen, whoever did this, whoever trapped us inside, and you outside, they’re the real enemy. We should not be fighting each-other. We are your people now, and you are ours. We’ve always been here. Now it’s time to acknowledge that.” There was a pause, as Dawson seemed to consider this. Her eyes were still locked with Mom’s, and I couldn’t tell exactly what she was thinking, what she was going to say. I realised I was holding my breath—everyone was, waiting to see what her answer would be. “Yes...” Dawson said quietly. There was a collective breath as Dawson gave her answer. “Yes, perhaps...” The crowd behind Dawson parted suddenly as people let through an elderly man. None other than... “Rodgers? What in the blasted atom bomb are you doing here?” Dawson grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. “Town!” He heaved, totally out of breath, “Ashstone! It’s under attack!” We all turned to Ashstone. Suddenly, I heard the pop of gunfire echoing down the valley. Another bang was followed by a flash, then smoke from one of the buildings. Oh no. Dawson turned on us. “What have you done?!” she said accusingly. “This isn’t us!” Mom shot back, “But we can help! If we don’t move now, you’re done for!” Dawson brought out a pistol from her belt, and there was a brief moment where I thought she was going to shoot my mother. Instead, she cracked a smile, turned towards Ashstone, and shouted, “Prove yourselves to us then! Let’s see if Vault 86 is all it’s made-out to be. To arms!” She led her troops down towards the town. Mommy gave me a look, I nodded. Then we joined Dawson, and went to fight for Ashstone. END OF CHAPTER 6

This is a great story, utterly enticing from start to finish!

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND CHAPTER 5 - Mayor Dawson War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, the town of Ashstone has managed to carve out a place amongst the wasteland. The ruthless and pragmatic Mayor Bryony Dawson oversees the town as its leader, the remnant of a powerful family that once had influence over the entire area. Dawson would see the area thrive again, but there are those who would stop her. Will the threat of the newly uncovered Vault 86 put a stop her plans? *** The morning came quickly. I awoke, as I normally did, to a soaked diaper around my waist. I didn’t have the chance to change yesterday, and with the entire camp rationing, I didn’t want to change if I didn’t absolutely have to. Slowly, I opened my eyes and rubbed away the sleep. My paci was attached to my mouth only by a thin sliver of drool, and I slowly sat up. As I did I realised my onesie was wet, and so was my sleeping bag. Quickly, I jumped out of bed. There was a small wet patch where my diaper had finally leaked. Two dark stains worked their way from the legs bands of my diaper, and met in the middle of the padding. “Poopie-butts.” I swore to myself. I flopped back down onto my pillow, trying to put off a change for as long as possible. Eventually, I realised I should probably just get it over with. Even though my diaper was soaking, being coddled in the swollen padding, it and knowing I could get a change quickly, was such a comforting feeling. In the few days I had spent outside the Vault, I had already almost forgotten how it felt to be safe again. Here I was, wrapped in my sleeping bag, in a cozy tent, surrounded by my family again. Well, I’ve already leaked, I thought, no point in holding back now. I got on my hands and knees, and quickly felt a rush of pee erupt into my diaper, taking up what little space there was left. Then, my stomach bubbled dangerously. I hadn’t made a messy since yesterday, and there was a big one brewing. Knowing I needed to make the most of every diaper, now that we were rationing, made things happen quickly. I did not need to push, a few farts rumbled out into the wee-wee filled padding beneath me. My mind fled suddenly back to last night, and Claudia’s showdown against Charles and Mrs Williams. Claudia had looked so tall and powerful, wetting herself like that. When I came back to my senses, I realised I was smiling, and my tummy was full of a strange fluttery feeling I couldn’t describe. I didn’t know how much longer she would remain in camp. I guessed until we were able to recycle diapers again. I wondered if she would carry out what my Mom had said, or just use it as an excuse to run. So many thoughts rushed through my head. Perhaps I should lighten my load a little. Yes, that sounded good. I gave another push, and out came another squeaky fart. Then, something more solid followed. Slowly, the soft mass of poop moved out of my butt and into my diaper. “Gnnn.” I grunted a little as a cramp hit. Instinctively I pushed again as my accident took hold without me needing to do much at all. I arched my back a little, still on my hands and knees, as my onesie began to stick out like a little tail. When I was finally finished, a let loose a long, satisfied sigh, happy with the mess I had made. I fell back down into a sit and the fresh load I had just made squished everywhere, spreading between my legs and around my privates. It pressed against my leak-guards and felt so good when I squeezed my legs together and it shifted again. I spent a long while just moving my legs back and forth a little, and couldn’t help but let out little excited whimpers at all the wonderful sensations that it brought me. I began to think of Claudia too, and what it would look like if she messed her diaper with me. I don’t know how long I spent doing that, but I was torn out of my fantasy for the second time this morning when I heard a gentle voice from outside my tent. “Joe? Are you awake?” It was Claudia. Immedietly I froze. Every crinkle of my diaper seemed like an earthquake it was so loud. Another voice, Ellie’s, followed. “Based on the smell and the moaning, I’d say he was awake.” The two girls giggled, and blood rushed to my cheeks. When did I become so self-concious about going poopies? “Come on stinkybutt,” Ellie said after a moment, “You’re not the only one who needs a clean diaper, come out and say good mornin’!” Reluctantly, I shifted in my sleeping bag, and felt my sticky diaper peel away from my butt as I stood. I came out of the tent with my shoulders hunched and my hands in front of my soaked padding, doing my best to hide it as best I could. Ellie, who was wearing only a vault-tec t-shirt and her padding giggled again, though I noticed her distinctly heavy diaper swinging beneath her without a care in the world. Claudia had already covered her diaper with her work pants, but it’s distinct buldge was just about visible. Ellie patted my butt as we passed, like we were still back in the vault. “What’s got you down in the dumps?” she asked when I didn’t do the same for her. “N-nothing, I’m fine.” I said, trying not to look Claudia in the eye. “Maybe you’ll perk up after you get changed. You normally do anyways.” Ellie said. She was right, of course. We had been neighbors all our lives, and she and Mrs Williams were like family to me. We knew eachother other as well as I imagined a brother and sister did. We knew eachothers habbits, how to tease eachother without going to far, and all of the other little things you get to know when you live so close to another person. That had been why I was so surprised to see her mother’s attitude yesterday. I had never known Florence to be so cold-hearted. Things had changed around here. A part of me wanted to ask Ellie about it, but now didn’t seem like the right time. Especially not with Claudia right there. I swore my diaper leaked even more by the time we reached Mr Johnson at the changing station. Pee had dribbled down my thighs, leaving a trail of dark spots on the sun-soaked concrete behind me. “Mornin’ kids.” Johnson was already waiting with supplies for us. He took one glance at me and said, “Err Joe, you want to go first there bud?” “I--” I glanced from Johnson, to Ellie, and quickly to Claudia, and quickly away again. “It’s not that bad.” I insisted, though I wasn’t sure I was even convincing myself. “You absolutely stink Joe. And that’s coming from me.” Ellie said, and Claudia agreed with a nod. “I said I’m fine!” I stamped my foot hard on the ground, trying to push away the embarassment I felt. The mass in the back of my onesie felt so obvious, so big and cumbersome. “I’m a big boy, I know when I need changies!” Everyone went silent. As soon as I had said the words, I knew how childish they sounded. I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Why was I so embarassed? I had spent my entire life carefree, in messy diapers. Now, when we finally had the chance to show the outside world how wonderful it was to be padded, I wanted out. Johnson quickly moved on. “Well, it looks like young Mister Palmer here wants to stay in his messy diaper a little longer. Come one Ellie, you best lie down.” Ellie pouted a little but did as Johnson said. He wiped his brow, preparing for another long day of diaper changes. As I slowly lowered my hands from my face, I noticed Claudia had unbuttoned her khakis, exposing her buldged, yellow diaper ready for changes. “You errr... are you getting changed too?” I asked nervously. “Uh-huh. I ... peed a little.” Her rosy blush enveloped her cheeks and she kicked a stone aimlessly. There was a long moment of silence where neither of us were brave enough to speak. Then we both spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry.” And again. “You’re sorry?” We both blinked at eachother. “You first?” Claudia said, and I almost forgot what it was I wanted to say. “Um ... well, I wanted to apologize for bringing you here, and putting all that expectation on you so soon. It wasn’t right.” It felt good to say it out loud. I hoped this would go a little way to repairing the awkwardness between us. “Expectation?” She raised an eyebrow, and immedietly I noticed her posture change. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have expected you to help us without anything in return. That’s how it is down here, but not on the surface. I know that now. I should have known you were only wanted to come here for the diapers and respected that.” It was unfair. I had been expecting things to work the way they always had in the Vault. I shouldn’t force my own ideals on the people already on the surface. I gave Claudia the biggest smile I could to show I meant what I said. “I ...” Claudia paused. She didn’t smile back. I began to panic, immedietly regretting what I had said but not knowing why. “But—” I continued, “It’s cool that you want to be padded. Diapers are great!” “You really thought I was here just for the diapers?” “Yeah,” I said, “You’re a surface dweller, why would you help us if there wasn’t anything to benifit you. It makes sense, I guess.” “And everyone thinks that?” Claudia asked, her voice shaking a little. “Well, based on your behavior last night, I think so.” I was so sure I understood the people who lived on the surface. I was certain I knew their ways. Turns out, three days isn’t enough to learn about an entire group of people. I saw tears begin to well in Claudia’s eyes. “Claudia,” I said, my stomach dropping, “I’m sorry, I--” Beofre I could ask what was wrong, she had turned and was running back to her tent. For some reason, I didn’t follow her. I only stood still and silent as she sprinted away from me. When I turned back to Ellie and Johnson, they were both looking at me like I’d shot a puppy. “What did I do wrong?” I asked. Johnson shrugged, but Ellie groaned. “I think she’s dealing with some stuff.” Ellie said, cringing a little. She got up quickly, gave me a kind pat on the back, and went to rush after Claudia. “I’ll go speak to her.” She said, and then she was gone too. “Well, come on Joe,” Johnson said after I had watched them both leave, “We best get you out of that messy dip before you rush off after her too.” I nodded, and glumly went to get my diaper changed. “What did I say wrong, Johnson? I thought I was making things better.” “Boy, I haven’t a clue what you said wrong. Like little Ellie said, the Surface people here are dealing with their own challenges. I think it’s more complicated than any of us realise.” Johnson taped up a fresh diaper. “Now,” he said, “If anyone asks, I didn’t say anything, but don’t bother holding back. You begin to leak, come to me, you hear? Better you’re healthy than you hold it in because of the rationing. You’re still not nearly as messy as Ellie. Damn kid could bomb an entire city with her loads.” Johnson forced a giggle out of me, and I thanked him for the change. When I finally got back to the tent, Ellie was waiting for me. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realised her eyes were puffy and red, as if she’d been crying herself. “What’s wrong?” I asked, rushing over. I glanced to Claudia’s tent. Empty. “I’m sorry, Joe. She’s gone.” *** It was mid-afternoon before we finally set off for Ashstone. Charles and I had been chosen to speak with Dawson first, and I had convinced them to let Ellie join us as well. Hopefully whilst we were there we would be able to find out if Claudia was okay. I had asked Ellie what she had said, but apparently she hadn’t returned to her tent at all. She had just up and left. I worried about what I said that could have hurt her. Ellie had some ideas. “Well, we were speaking last night, and she said diapers aren’t really accepted on the outside world. Maybe she was just overwhelmed?” “Maybe.” “And you did kinda say she was a selfish person for only thinking about the diapers.” “I ... yeah.” I said, slowly replaying everything I said in excruiating detail. “Good riddance, that’s what I say.” Charles said, leading the pack. A newly fixed-up Basil trailed behind us, making sure our diapered rears were safe. “Her stunt with the diaper was impressive, I’ll concede. But that girl was more trouble than good for us, I’ll tell you.” Even though I still felt betrayed that she had just run off like that, I really didn’t want to listen to Charles’ stinkybuttface dirting Claudia’s name like that. She had been nothing but kind to us over the past few days, and we weren’t repaying the favor very well. I managed to forget about Claudia for a little while as I tried to remember where I had previously heard Dawson’s name. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t guess where I had heard it before. We followed the same route I had taken to Ashtone, having put my scans of the area to good use. Sometimes, I was pulled away from my thoughts by a mechanical hand unbuttoning my onesie, pulling back the waistband of my diaper and giving me a pat on the head. “All dry and clean, there’s a good boy.” He said, snapping the buttons on my onesie back together. Then, I fled back into my thoughts, the cycle of thinking about Dawson, then Claudia, then trying to distract myself from the pit in my stomach. We were nearly half-way to Ashstone, in the heart of the forested area, when my Pip-boy began to click. “Radiation?” I said, glancing down at the little green dial on my geigercounter. When I looked up, I saw that Charles had paused on the road ahead. He spoke quietly, and very carefully. “Get your gun out Joe.” His tone made me shiver. I did as he said, and pulled out N99 pistol that the Vault had given me. As I raised it I heard another clicking noise, this time more organic. I searched the trees around us. In the distance, some ferns rustled. “There!” Ellie shouted, and jumped to the side as a giant insect-like creature shot out of the bushes. I fired two rounds and it was dead, but more came--two, three, five of them, scurrying about like giant cockroaches. The clicking on my Pip-boy was now a constant drone as it detected the radiation these creatures were giving off. Bang! Bang! Two more rounds fired, another insect dead. More of these things came at us as Ellie and Charles began to fire as well. I heard Basil’s buzzsaw activate as he carved through these things with a worrying glee. One leapt on Charles, and for a moment I thought he was done for, but Ellie raised her arm and fired a round into the insect, and Basil finished it off with his buzzsaw. It fell into a pile of goop on the forest floor. By the time they had finally stopped, we were surrounded by the bodies of these giant insects things. “Thank you Mister Basil.” Charles said, wiping away what he could of the radioactive slime. “I was never sure about that buzzsaw, I must admit, but I’m starting to think it was a good idea.” “Well, now I need another diaper change.” Ellie said, looking down at her squishy padding. “What are these things?” She poked one with her pistol. Like mine, her Pip-boy was a constant hum of clicks. “Some sort of radioactive mutant cockroaches, I think.” I said. I didn’t want to stay here much longer. This place was giving me the willies. Ellie seemed to have the same bad feeling about this place as I did. “Let’s get out of here, before more of those things turn up.” I nodded in agreement and we resumed our long trek to Ashstone. I realised, as I began to pick up the pace, that my gait had turned into a waddle, and my diaper swung beneath me as we walked. I sighed. “Ellie, you’re not the only one that needs a change.” Charles didn’t say a word for the rest of the trip. He seemed to be taking everything in, ocasionally glancing down at his Pip-boy. If he found anything, he didn’t mention it to us. To be honest, I was thankful that he was quiet. Had he yapped on, badmouthing Claudia, I might have had to punch him. Or shoot him. Or both, even if it meant getting told off by Mom. When we arrived at Ashstone, the weight of all my thoughts was crushing me. The pressure on us to succeed here for the good of the Vault was huge. If we didn’t get this right, things might go down a very dark path for all of us. I remembered the last time I was here, walking down this same road three days ago in the opposite direction. I had been with Claudia then. Somewhere, she was in the town. I felt if I only craned my neck enough I would see her somewhere. But as soon as her face popped into my head, anxiety poured into my gut. Unlike the other day, the gates of Ashstone were surrounded by a large crowd of people. I descretly told Basil to wait a little ways back. “I’ll call if I need you.” I held up my Pip-boy so he could see, “We don’t want to cause a panic.” “Of course Sir.” He said, and then he was gone. As we got closer, the crowd grew rowdy. I suddenly regretted sending Basil away. Armed guards stopped the crowd getting close to us, and they let us pass as we came through the gates of the town, even if they did give us strange looks. To be honest everyone was giving us strange looks. I felt exposed, and more than a little embarassed, to be swaddled in a diaper and a onsie, so different to everyone around me. Ellie and Charles were both more ignorant of the outside world and didn’t seem to care about their clothing too much at all. They were more worried about the crowd. “What the hell is this kid?” Charles said, and instinctually the three of us moved closer to one another to get away from the crowd around us. They all wore old mixed up clothing that reminded me of my crib’s patchwork quilt, except not quite as clean as that. If the Vault’s used diapers stank, then these people may as well have been bathing in a sea of them. A dirtiness filled the air, mixed with sweat and engine oil. It was a very powerful smell, and Charles was coughing before we had even made it halfway down the alley this crowd had made for us. It wasn’t long before we were in the very heart of town. Pre-war buildings with worn signs like ‘Run-and-Gun-Grill’ and what looked like a picture of some sort of horned animal half-falling apart were hung on one building, and a ‘Mall’ whatever that was opposite. The buildings formed a funnel toward a low-down building surrounded by a wall at the end of the street. As we approached, I suddenly didn’t want to be here. Around us were more people than I had ever seen in my life, all squished together. I began to panic, trying to breathe but not able to catch enough air. The crowd got thicker and thicker, and soon people were pushing against us, even against the guards. I tried to push back, but felt myself crushed further and further into the crowd, completely winded. We were saved at the last minuite by a woman’s booming voice. “And just what is going on here?” Immediately the crowd stopped. I recognised that voice. It was the same warm but distincly authoritiative tone that Mayor Dawson had used when she had spoken to Claudia the other night. The crowd began to part, and I saw Dawson fully for the first time. Her immaculate silver hair contrasted with her severe face, as if it was the living personification of the notoriously strict Miss Nanny bots back in the Vault. Mayor Dawson had that same old-fashioned harshness about her, and I half thought that most of the town had probably been over her knee and spanked at some point, before I remembered that they probably don’t do that up here. Did they do that up here? Another thing to add to my growing list of anxieties. Either side of us, the crowd mercifully formed a corridor. The town gates were at one end, the walled building at the other, where the Mayor and another figure beside her stood. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light. When they did, there was no mistaking who it was. “Claudia.” I said under my breath. It was only a whisper, but I thought she somehow might have heard when she looked directly at me. “Is that them?” Dawson asked her loudly. She nodded. “Thank you Claudia.” Dawson turned to speak with us. “Claudia here tells me you are ambassadors from Vault 86? And that you wish to speak?” She slowly began the long walk towards us. She was slow, and calm, as if all of time spun around her. When the Vault was mentioned, the crowd broke out into hushed whispers. Dawson silenced them again with a booming chuckle. “Now, why on god’s ash-stained earth would I want to speak with a bunch of babies?” She walked towards us with a confidence I had never seen in my entire life. The crowd parted as she passed them, as if she had some strange magnetic effect. To me, in that moment, Dawson looked as powerful as the nucleus of an atom, the world shifting and distorting all for her benifit. Claudia joined behind her. She had a strangely calm expression. I was also surprised at how quiet Charles was being. Was he waiting to see what would happen? Maybe that was the clever thing to do. Unfortunately, I was not a clever boy. “Claudia! We were worried about you!” I said, and stepped forward. The guards who had been escorting us stepped towards me, but I stopped before they got too nervous. Claudia didn’t respond, in fact she looked away from me. Dawson turned briefly, shot her a raised eyebrow, and came to a stop a few meters away. “I have no time for silly games child.” Dawson said, almost as if she could sense something was wrong between Claudia and me. Maybe it was that obvious. Despite her harsh tone, a knowing smile spread across her lips. “If you don’t go back to your crib, we may have to put you to sleep ourselves.” Laughter rippled through the crowd. I nervously stepped back to join Ellie and Charles. Don’t let her get to you. I am a big boy! I can do this! What was Dawson’s game? Was she testing us? I suddenly remembered what Claudia had said about the Mayor and her strained relationship with her brother. “If you’re not willing to speak, perhaps we can go to Victoria with our offer instead.” Behind Dawson, I saw Claudia wince. For a moment, Dawson’s smile flickered. “Now, now. I never said I didn’t want to talk. Maybe you’re not as little as I though you were.” She was silent for a long moment. She eyed me, Ellie and Charles, who stared back at her with matched intensity. Dawson was only torn away by Claudia tugging at her shoulder. She let Claudia lean into her ear. Something was whispered though I couldn’t make out a word. Then the Mayor sighed. “You’re right, of course.” Without looking back, Dawson pushed past Claudia and began to walk back behind her walls. “Well, don’t you babies know how to walk?” She said to us. I glanced to Claudia for an answer, but she shrugged, sighed, and followed Dawson. Me and Ellie were hot on her heels, but I noticed Charles linger. He glanced at the crowd, clicked something on his Pip-boy then joined us too. The complex was well guarded. Fifteen or so soldiers lined the walls, each with a rifle in their arms. Even more of them were off duty, and walked about the inside of the walls, sitting around and chatting. More than one gave us glares as we passed them, and I was glad that my diaper still had a little more room for my anxiety. Inside, the building felt like a slice of the old world. The beige floor was so shiny I could almost see myself in it. Rows of blue fabric-backed chairs led to a wood-panelled desk with the words ‘Family Medical Practice’ still hung up behind it. Two soldiers were behind the desk sorting through paperwork. It felt so strange to be in a building made of brick and wood, instead of the metal hallways of the vault, or the cobbled-together steel of Claudia’s home. Dawson’s office was around the corner. It was smaller than the entrance, but maintained a high standard of clenliness. It was almost as if the bombs had never fallen. Her office desk was free of dust and ash and covered with potted plants in rusted-metal pots. “Please, take a seat.” Dawson said, and Claudia and Chalres both took one of the two seats in front of the desk. I stood behind them with Ellie. Dawson held out a hand. “I’m Bryony Dawson, mayor of Ashstone.” “Charles Montgommery, representative of Vault 86’s council.” Charles said, taking her hand. Me and Ellie did the same. “Joe Palmer.” I said, and Dawson’s eyes lingered with mine for a moment before she sat back down. “Claudia here has been busy it seems.” Dawson said, a smile flickering across her face. “Tell me, who are you? What do you want with my town?” Charles clared his throat. “Trade, if you’re willing.” “Your freind here,” Dawson looked at me, “Mentioned my brother’s place in Victoria. I can only assume that you were the one speaking to Claudia last night?” My stomach dropped. Claudia nearly jumped out of her seat, her face rosy with anger and embarassment. “How the hell did you know--” She began, but Dawson shushed her. “Ah, ah, ah. I have my ways. This is my town. Remember Claudia, for the good of Ashstone, we don’t keep secrets like that.” Reluctantly, Claudia sat back down. She kept quiet, although I got the feeling she wanted to scream and shout at Dawson in that moment. “So?” Dawson continued, “Was it you, baby boy?” I nodded meekly. Talking with this woman was hard. Dawson had a way of looking that could melt you instantly, a way of speaking that made you forget your words. In that moment, I felt like an actual child. I was helpless, small, knowing whatever I said would be an embarassment. I should leave the thinking, the speaking, to the proper adults. The adults who had been on the surface all this time. As if she could sense all of this, Ellie stepped in to help. “Joe’s mommy is the Overseer, our leader. Don’t mock him!” Dawson’s grin exploded suddenly, and she fell into a fit of laughter. “Mommy! Ha ha! I’ve never heard anything so infantile coming out of an adult’s mouth before! How utterly pathetic.” A blush had somehow covered my entire body. I wanted to slink into the shadows, back down into the Vault, and never come out. “It just so happens however,” Dawson leant forward, placing her head on top of her hands, “That Joe’s ‘mommy’ is exactly the woman I want to speak to. You see, I’ve been interested in your little Vault for a very long time.” I felt the tension in the room suddenly tighten. Claudia just sat there in silence, locked in the same mix of embarassment and fear as I was. Charles was silent too, though by the look of him, he was holding something back, though I couldn’t tell what. The room remained silent, caught in Dawson’s spell. It was Ellie who broke it. “How long have you known about us, Miss Dawson?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Longer than you’ve known about us, I assure you. Had you waited a few more years, or even months, I might have tried to come get you myself.” Dawson’s confidence seemed unbreakable, but Ellie smiled to herself. “We don’t want to fight.” “Ha! So you would have just given the Vault over?” “I didn’t say we couldn’t fight. Just that we didn’t want to. It wouldn’t end well for you.” Maybe it was Ellie’s complete seriousness, but Dawson’s confident smile seemed to falter. “Relax kid,” She said, “I was just joking around. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we could have taken the place easily, but I prefer to talk as well. I have no wish to loose half of Blackstone trying to get into a Vault that, for all we knew, contained little more than drool-stained binkies and dirty diapers. It would be a shame to pass up on an oppotunity to get one over on my dear brother, and-- Atomics above! What’s that smell?” Dawson stopped talking suddenly, scrunching her nose. Whilst she had been speaking, Ellie had become very focused, and had begun to make little grunting noises. From my position, I could see the familiar squatting position, her knees bent ever so slightly. She finished her dirty deed with a sigh of relief. The smell of a freshly pooped diaper quickly began to fill the room. Dawson was in shock. “Did you just--?” I watched as Ellie straightened and stood tall, proud of the load she had just dropped in her onesie. It almost seemed like she had done it entirely to spite Dawson. Had I needed to go, I probably would have followed her lead. She gave a massive, smug grin. “That smell is my diaper, Ma’am.” she said, “I just went poopies.” We all waited for Dawson’s response. Would she throw us out? Ellie had done the most babyish thing imaginable. Surely Dawson wouldn’t want to speak with us after that. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the look of pure excitment Dawson gave. “Ha! Well I’ll be damned.” Awe dripped from her voice. “You actually do use diapers.” We all looked at each-other in confusion. All except Charles, who looked very happy indeed. I had to step back. The feeling of anxiety became a sudden fear that shivered down my spine. “So, you want a meeting? That’s all?” Dawson said, still smiling eagerly. “A meeting plain and simple, for now at least.” Charles suddenly met Dawson’s gaze feircely. “Where? I’m not going to your airbase.” Dawson said. “Good, we didn’t want to be surrounded by your town either.” I felt like I should say something, do anything to claw back some control. I blurted out, “The hill outside of Ashstone.” I waited to be embarassed by my stupid comment, but to my surprise, both Charles and Dawson nodded in agrement. “Yes. Yes, on the hill.” Dawson said. “You are not to approach Victoria or Pinkleton until then.” Charles frowned. “Why’s that?” “Ah…” Dawson stood, “That would be telling. So, I assume we have a deal?” Dawson held out her hand to shake again, and Charles took it. The deal had been made. “Claudia, if you could go with them, make sure they uphold their end of the deal.” Claudia glanced to me, and nodded. Immediately another sort of fear returned. I realised suddenly that we would have to speak to eachother. Get whatever had happened between us in the last few hours out of the way. All I wanted now was to get out of here, and back to the safety of camp. Maybe there we could set things right. Before we could get out however, Charles paused. “You seem very happy about this all of a sudden.” He said with that same curious confidence that Dawson had. “Oh, I am.” Dawson leant back. Her gaze returned to that magic stare that made you melt. I found myself unsure whether to move or stay, so I ended up sort of hopping nervously from foot to foot as if I was about to flood my diaper. “And why is that?” Charles asked. “Do you know who I am, Mister Montgommery? Do you know what this place is? I am Bryony Dawson, Mayor of Ashstone. You know my name, but you do not recognise my family? Before the war, my ancestors helped to build this place. We got rich by making and selling our wares here, capitalism at it’s finest, something every freedom-loving American citizen dreamt of. We made a product that every pre-war family needed. Something so important that society could hardly function without them. Do you know what we made, Mister Montgommery?” A sly grin danced on Dawson’s lips. She leant forward, a fire lit in her eyes. Almost silently, but loud enough for all of us to hear, she whispered, “We made diapers.” END OF CHAPTER 5

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND CHAPTER 4 - THE BABY VAULT War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, the old world has been mostly forgotten. Vault 86’s occupants have risen to the surface and have been forced to adapt to a world without the Nanny-bots that cared for them, without the warm blankets and soft-cribs of home, and crucially, without diapers. Will they survive in this harsh land? Will they adapt to this new world order? *** The airfield was stuffed with people. Some had their full vault-suits on, they were bright blue and gold onesies like mine. Only their bulky waists revealed the padding they wore beneath, or a leak-guard sticking out from the leg-holes. Others weren’t as shy, and had their onesie buttons popped open, or had rolled it up entirely for easy access to their puffy, yellowed diapers. In fact, I coudn’t see a clean diaper in sight. Most I walked past stank of more than one use. I realised suddenly that were already begining to ration. Claudia and I had been traling behind Ellie as we all waddled over to the makeshift changing station. Ellie’s diaper stank something feirce, worse than normal which was impressive. As she began to unsnap her onesie, the smell only got worse. “You see Joe,” she continued, “Turns out Charmicheal sent you out of the Vault to look for help because he knew there was a radiation leak. Has been for months. Grrrgg, ah!” Ellie struggled to unsnap the final button on her vault-onesie. “Don’t worry Ma’am, I’ll help!” Basil said, and his mechanical hand reached beneath and unpopped the button with ease. “Thank you Mister Basil!” Ellie said. Her diaper fell beneath her, sagging there with a large bulk in the back where her mess was. I saw Claudia scrunch up her face a little, but I was used to the smell. Mostly. Living in an enclosed vault, where people pooped their diapers all the time, did that to you. “Anyways.” Ellie continued, “The rest of the Vault didn’t exactly love that he’d done that, and well... long story short, he’s alive, just not the Overseer anymore.” “He’s still inside the Vault?” I asked, horrified that this man I knew all my life might be slowly dying of radiation, despite his betrayal. “Oh, no no no. It’s all complicated, but—you’ll see soon I guess. The leak damaged a few of our other systems, electric and all, so we’ve all evacuated.” “Wait ...” Claudia said suddenly, grinding to a halt. “Are all your diapers still down there?” “Obviously not!” Ellie said dramatically. I couldn’t tell what Claudia thought of her, she only gave a little sigh, and seemed to relax in a similar way to when you make a messy in your pants. “So, y’all brought them up here?” She asked. Ellie gave me a look, and I decided to step in. “Most everything in the Vault is recycled.” “Even...” Claudia’s eyes went wide. “Yup, even the dirtiest diapers!” Ellie grinned. She gave her padded butt a little wiggle. In the entire history of the Vault, she had been the only one that had caused the recycler to break before now. That, at least, had been fixed quickly. Ellie spun and began toward the changing station again. “Until we get the Vault cleaned of radiation, we’re stuck without the recycler, so we’re rationing what diapers we have in storage.” “Oh...” Claudia’s releived smile dropped. She seemed dissapointed, even as we reached the makeshift changing area that had been set up. In some ways the station was very familiar, with all the supplies needed to changed a packed diaper, and bedrolls to lay on. Whatever spares that could be recovered were stuffed into the blue-painted wooden dresser common in the Vault, designed to lighten up the cold metal inside. Another familiar sight had been pinned to the side of one of the dresser. A poster from the Vault changing room had pride of place above the bedrolls. The vault-tec mascot featured on it, in his iconic blue uniform and a very stinky diaper. His thumb was raised, and he said “Remember! Wear Protection!” These posters, or variants of them, were everywhere in the Vault. It made me a little sad to remember home and to see it so close, yet so far away. The changing station itself was very simple in comparison to home. Four bedrolls had been set up in a line, with what looked like a large canvas sheet draped over four poles above it, to keep off the sun. Before Ellie began to lay down, she poked the rear of her diaper, feeling at the buldge of her padding. “Mister Johnson?” Ellie asked sweetly, “I need a change pweeeeaaassee.” From behind the makeshift shelter, came the oldest member of the Vault. He had grey hair, and his pale face was only more obvious in the sunlight. Surprisingly, he was wearing a clean diaper. “Mister Johnson?” I said, surprised, “You’re on changing duty now?” “Well, well, well if it isn’t little Joe Palmer. Was begining to think you’d never come back!” Johnson said behind a toothy grin, “Your mother’s going places y’know.” “Looks like you are too!” I said, and opened my arms for a big hug. Johnson enveloped me back, a goofy old smile on his wrinkled face. “Now now, while it’s nice to see you, someone should change Ellie here before she stinks up camp.” I nodded, grinning, as Johnson pulled away. “That sounds like a good idea.” I said, then leaned close to Claudia, “Though before Ellie, Johnson always topped the Vault’s dirtiest diaper competitions.” Claudia gave a little smile but she still seemed distracted, almost eager to get away somewhere. I decided to ignore it for now, this was a strange place after all, she was probably just in awe that such a civilisation could be living right under her feet this entire time. “You seem to be clean now Johnson.” Ellie said. I laughed. “He’s probably using his new job to steal diapers.” Johnson’s expression dropped. “Listen here you little pipsqueak,” he said, but before he could continue, I heard Basil’s buzzsaw spin into action. “No, no!” I said, stepping in between Basil and Johnson, who nearly fell back with terror. “Why, he insulted you, Master Joe!” His attention turned to Johnson, “You want some, you little bugger? I’ll give it to you!” “Woah, just, calm down! We’re just joking about!” I said, and although it took a moment, Basil settled down. His buzzsaw ground to a halt. Whoopsie. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring him into camp. “Basil, could you go over there? To the fence at the edge of camp for a bit? Don’t hurt anyone, but message my pip-boy if you see anything suspicous.” The instructions took a moment to process, but he got there eventually. He gave a little salute, and said, “Yes sir! Right away!” Then, he floated over toward the fence. “Sorry about him.” I said to Johnson, helping him back up. “He’s safe, I promise.” “It’s fine, but you’re damn lucky I didn’t poop myself. Besides,” He lowered his voice and stared nervously at Basil in the distance, “I got at least five decades on you kids to earn the title of dirtiest diaper-messer. And, I’m doing my part to ration as many as I can now, unlike some people here ...” He tilted his head to Ellie, who went crimson. “This little one here’s gone through three in the past twenty four hours alone! Talk about efficiency.” Ellie didn’t try to argue, she only shrugged. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.”Then she quickly sat down onto her messy diaper, ready for a change. Whilst Jognson was getting prepared, I turned to Claudia. She still looked a little distracted. “Umm... are okay, Claudia?” I pulled her to the edge of the shelter, so we had some privacy. “Yeah, fine.” she smiled wanly. “Really?” “Look, I’ll ...” she lowered her voice, “I’ll explain later.” I wasn’t sure about that, but there was little I could do. If she didn’t want to tell me, I had to accept that. I wasn’t sure what else I could do. When I turned back, Ellie was wiggling her butt against the floor. She had a far-away look, and she was smiling goofily and drooling a little. She seemed completely in her own world, just scooting back and forth in her mess. I knew that look well, she had always liked to play about in her mess. I remembered the days when we were younger, and Ellie would always try and make ‘poopie patties’ as she called them, sitting in her mess until it was as flat as a pancake. I had assumed she had stopped a few years ago, but clearly she’d just hidden it better. I have to admit, I may have done the same once or twice, but those days were far behind me now. “Stop that!” Johnson said angrily, giving her a tap on the head. “You’ll dirty up thed changing station!” It was enough to snap Ellie back into reality. “Sorry, I got carried away!” She said with an ever-increasing blush, “It’s been so long.” Mister Johnson sighed and began changing her, muttering curses under his breath. As she was being changed, Claudia and I watched. “Why do you guys wear diapers?” she asked out of the blue. “Huh?” “You heard me, diaper boy.” she said. I felt my cheeks flush. “Oh ... I guess I’m just surprised it’s taken you this long to ask.” “Well, why do you wear diapers? Up on the surface they’re only for babies.” “I haven’t really thought about it before. I guess we just stayed babies? It’s all I’ve known.” “Did no one ever tell you why? I mean, did they all wear diapers pre-war, and us surface-folk just kinda forgot?” “I don’t think so. My Grandpa didn’t wear them before the war anyways. We were always told it was for the good of the Vault, for our own protection.” I pointed to the poster on the side of the dresser. “So you did it because your parents did it? And they did it because their parents did it too?” “Well, yeah. We follow the rules of the Vault—it’s our duty!” I said proudly. “We do as the overseer says, and they know everything.” They just didn’t always tell you everything. Pain at Overseer Carmicheal’s betrayal stung badly. “Plus, they feel weeallly good when you use them.” I said, patting the front of my padding to emphasise my point. Claudia giggled at that, and for some reason I felt like I had one a medal. When Ellie had finished, she led us to a group of large tents that had been set up near the army base, in the same bright vault-blue. Strangely, everyone seemed to be keeping their distance from the main building. Out here, the wind blew across the airfield, making the tents ripple, and giving me goosebumps. It would be nice to get inside. When the flap of the biggest tent shifted, I knew it wasn’t the wind. Suddenly, my heart was in my throat, and I found my padding swell and realised I had wet it without really thinking. It had only been three days since I had seen my mom, but it felt like years. A short figure came out from the dark of the tent, their hips bulky with diaper-padding. They had their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. “Mom.” I whispered. By the looks of it, she was right in the middle of things. And by the smell of it, she was so busy she hadn’t yet had the chance to change her pants. “Mom!” I said, barrelling into her for a hug. I was taller than her, and had to bend down to reach her. Mom managed to wrap her arms around me just fine anyways. “My little boy! You’re back! I was so worried about you.” she said. “I’m fine Mom! I’m fine!” I tried to pull away, but she didn’t let go. I snuggled into her comforting warmth. As embarassing as it was, it was nice to be home. Eventually, I managed to untangle myself and I heard Claudia and Ellie giggling. “I’m doing better than you guys by the look of things.” I said to Mom. “Yes ... it does seem that way unfortunately.” Mom looked past me for a moment, and I realised she was looking Claudia up and down. I cleared my throat loudly and without missing a beat Mom’s smile returned as if it had always been there. “Come on in, y’all are just in time. We’re going over what we know about the outside world, and we need someone to debrief us on the land up here. Maybe your guest could help us out?” “Oh, yeah, this is Claudia. Claudia, this is Mom. I mean ... my mom.” Mom went in for a hug from Claudia as well, but something about her seemed off, like she was all tensed up, and trying not to show it. “Apologies for the smell, I haven’t found the time to change my diaper yet.” “Oh thats fine, I--” Claudia went quiet, and I saw her eyes grow wide. And... was Mom whispering in her ear? When they seperated Mom was all smiley again, though Claudia seemed paler. “Come on then.” Mom said, and she walked past me and back into the tent. I shot Claudia a questioning glance, but she just shook her head, followed Mom inside, and after a moment of confusion I followed her in too. Besides Mom, there were three other padded butts in the tent. They were all gathered around an old wooden table and a map of the area before the Great War. Charles Montgomery, a man in his thirties, with his slicked back hair and a paci in his mouth, was at the head of the table. Next to him was Florence Williams, Ellie’s mom, whose wrinkly face was twisted into a grimace. She was hovering closley over the map on the table, her eyes darting back and forth across it. Lastly, and this was a shock to see, was none other than Ex-Overseer Carmicheal. He was handcuffed to a metal loop that stuck out of the concrete pavement of the airbase, and looked very grumpy indeed. The chain on his handcuffs meant he had very little movement, and I doubted he could leave the tent without help. Like Mom, he seemed in desperate need of a diaper change. In fact, the entire tent smelt like stale pee and soiled diapers, really. It reminded me of one of the Vault’s nurseries, an oddly comforting smell. “Joe, my boy!” Carmichael said, jolting up, “So good to see you son! I trust your adventure went well?” I was at a crossroads here. I could go up to Carmichael like nothing ever happened, though it was silly to deny things had changed. Instead, I took a cue from my mother. I ignored the shabby looking man as best I could. If Carmicheal was annoyed, I didn’t even notice. It was easy to ignore him anyways, as my eyes were drawn to the end of the table where a spare, clean diaper had been placed. It was neatly folded, and printed with patterns of teddy bears. Mom waved her hand for me to sit beside it. “That’s for you my dear.” Mom said, “We thought you may need it after your time away from home.” “It’s fine, Mom.” I said, “I’m clean for now.” Mom nodded, but no one went to move the diaper. The other adults gathered around the table looking distinctly ... well, adult. It wasn’t surprising given the circumstances, but it did seem very strange to be around people behaving like proper adults in such a familiar environment. I was used to seeing these people suckle from a bottle, or crawl around in stinky diapers. Sometimes Florence or Ronson would give us lessons, but besides the lingering smell they all seemed so big. Grown up for the first time I had known them. I wondered if this is what it was like the last time the Vault had a major incident, during the Great Rebellion. “So, kid, you have anything to report?” Charles growled. He seemed the most serious of the adults. “As you can see, we’ve had an adventure of our own since you’ve been gone, playing tea parties with surface dwellers.” “Oh, don’t be so hard on him Charlie.” Florence said, and I gave her a grateful nod. I hadn’t seen this Charles guy around the Vault much, but he wasn’t making a good first impression. “As it happens, I have a lot of information about the town nearby, what do you want to know?” “Everything.” Charles said. So, over the next hour, I filled them in on all the details of the valley. I told them how I had found the ruins of the pre-war world, and met Basil there. I told them about the town of Ashstone and nearby Victoria and Pinkelton to the south, and stressed that Claudia would know more. I told them how I met her, and about her talk with Mayor Dawson. Dawson. A growing anxiety grew in my tummy whenever I thought about her. She seemed freindly enough, but l couldn’t help but wonder how someone so kind had survived in the harsh world outside the Vault. Besides that, the name sounded oddly familiar. “And that girl with you? Claudia? You said she’s from Ashstone?” Mom asked. “Uh-huh, you should probably speak to her if you want to know more. I bet she could tell you.” “If you could go get her darlin’.” Florence said. I nodded, and did as I was told. Claudia was standing outside with Ellie. She looked a little nervous, shy in a way I had not seen before. “Are you okay?” I asked her. “Yeah.” She said, though her eyes were wild and startled. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Maybe she saw the doubt on my face, because she tried to hide her nerves with a smile. Despite myself, I found it impossible to look away from her beautiful brown eyes. “Joe?” She said, and I blinked. “Oh, yeah, you’re wanted inside. They umm ... want to know about the area.” I said. “Right.” She took a deep breath and we went back inside. “Welcome to our little camp here, Claudia.” Mom said, and she beamed a smile toward Claudia. If Claudia noticed she ignored it. Mom gave me a strange look as I shuffled in beside Claudia, ready to back her up if needed. Why was everyone being so weird? Everyone in the tent—Mom, Charles, Florence and Carmicheal—waited for her expectantly. “I ... Umm ...” Claudia hesitated. I could see the words buzzing in her mouth, but nothing would come out, no matter how much Claudia tried. There was an awkaward silence as they waited for her to continue. “Can she speak?” Charles asked me loudly, and I felt anger rise in my chest. I didn’t know him well, but I was already sure I didn’t like him much at all. “Well, Claudia’s from Ashstone. She knows their leader, Mayor ... Dyson? I think?” I said, deliberately getting Dawson’s name wrong. Thankfully, Claudia took the bait. “Dawson.” she corrected me, and without prompting, she continued, “Dawson’s the mayor of Ashstone, her brother’s in charge of a nearby settlement called Victoria, and then Pinkleton to the West is run by a man who shares that name.” Mom nodded, “Little Joe’s filled us in on some of that, but I was hoping to ask a few questions, if I may, dear?” There was a barely audible squish as Mom sat in her full padding, and she gestured for Claudia to sit as well, right by the fresh diaper I had refused earlier. Mom continued, “Firstly, thank you for taking care of my boy, I owe you one for keeping him safe in this strange land we’ve found ourselves in.” She reached forward and patted Claudia’s knee, to all intents and purposes, a kind and caring face in a tense situation. But Claudia looked terrified. She had gone completley pale, and her eyes were wide like when Mom had whispered to her outside of camp. Also, my Mom was hiding something. I knew her better than anyone else in the Vault, and knew when she was lying. There was something in her face that gave it all away. I didn’t like one bit of it. “If I may, why are you here, Miss Claudia?” Mom said, “Are you just a kind soul who found someone lost and offered to help? Or are you here for more selfish reasons?” A part of me thought I knew what Claudia would say, that she saw how lost I was, and helped me find my way. But Claudia’s eyes betrayed her. Mom spotted her glance toward the clean diaper before I did—all alone and waiting to be taped around a freshly cleaned tooshie. I should have known. Hell, I did know really, I was just trying to trick myself into thinking it was anything more. It had been me who had offered her diapers in exchange for coming to the Vault, I had played on her desire to be padded. So why did it hurt so much to accept it? To these people, we were nothing more than big babies, and diapers were our only resource. “Well ...” Mom said, “That’s a resonable desire, and certainly makes things easier.” She leaned back in her messy diaper, the familiar scent wafting into the tent. Claudia, to her credit, didn’t even twitch her nose. “I want you to take a message to your Mayor Dawson, if you do...” Mom placed a hand on the clean diaper, “Well, we may be able to get you what you want. Sound good?” I saw the hunger in Claudia’s eyes as she stared at the diaper, and would be lying if I said I had never looked at one the same from time to time. “Sounds interesting.” Claudia said. Mom’s smile returned, more genuine this time. “Good. I want you to say that we can offer arms and protection, medicine, and technical knowledge lost to your people.” “We know you can offer us that.” Claudia said, “My people raid vaults all the time. You’ll hear a story now and then about some crackpot whose opened one and looted everything inside, or died trying.” “Well, we’re offering the opputinity to gain access to those same resources without having to ‘die trying.’ How’s that sound? Failing that, I’m sure you’re famiiar with the concept of mutually assured destruction? Maybe more than we are.” Claudia’s eyes widened even more. I clenched my fists. Mom saw all of this, and gave a big stretch and yawn as she stood up. Her diaper was flattened at the back where she had sat on it. “Good,” She said, “It seems some of the old world survived the bombs. I don’t want to do anything silly, dear. Just know that life for both of us would be improved with coperation.” Finally, Mom slid the folded diaper over to Claudia. She didn’t take it at first, her eyes locked with my mom. “Well, you don’t need to convince me.” Without looking down, she tentatively touched the diaper, her hand running over the soft, crinkly material. “I’ll take your message to Dawson, all right.” *** We all waddled slowly back to camp. Claudia absentmindedly fiddled with the diaper in her hands, the two of us hadn’t really talked all the way back to our tents. Honestly I didn’t feel like talking. I wasn’t angry with her, just dissapointed in my own stupidity. I couldn’t find the stength to break through my embarassment. Claudia seemed to be having trouble speaking to me as well. Sometimes she made made a face as she walked, as if she was about to say something, but she never continued beyond that. We walked between rows of smaller canvas tents, hundreds of them. “Here we are.” Ellie said as she led us to our tents. There were three in a row, slightly apart from the others. “I set them up next to mine.” She looked at the two of us knowingly. She probably suspected something was up, but didn’t know enough to say anything yet. “Thanks,” Claudia said, “They look really cosy.” “Ah! Good afternoon Sir!” A robotic voice crackled from behind the tents, as Basil interrupted the quiet out here on the edge of camp. His spherical head twisted hapily, and he gave an excited buzz of his saw which was beginning to unnerve me less and less. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but I couldn’t be bothered to argue right now. “Doesn’t it feel good to be home, Sir!” “This isn’t your home Bas.” I said. “Uh oh, someone’s a grumpy baby!” He said to me, and immedietley I blushed as Ellie and Claudia giggled behind me. “Maybe you need some discipline!” “No!” All three of us shouted as Basil raised his robotic hands for a spanking. I did not want to see the discipline he gave out, especially having heard tales of my Mom fighting off the Vault Nanny bots. I made a mental note to turn down Basil’s daycare settings later. Thankfully, he stood down. “I only meant,” I clarified to Basil in a happier tone, “That you didn’t grow up in an airbase, right?” “Oh, I know Sir, but it reminds me of the good ol’ days before the bombs fell and everything was blown to hell and back! A little camping trip with the family, and all that.” “You used to go camping for fun? What was that like?” “Oh it was wonderful Master Joseph. The Robinson’s were always so happy outdoors, in the fresh air. They even had a young one still in diapers like yourself! They loved her to peices.” “I guess that’s how you got so good at changing diapers, huh?” Claudia asked. She had begun to unfold a blue Vault-tec sleeping bag. “Oh, certainly, though I must say Joe’s diapers are a tad stinkier!” Ellie burst into a fit of giggles again, and Claudia gave a little smirk, so I preoccupied myself with setting up the rest of my tent in an attempt to hide the never ending embarassment I had suffered today. We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the airbase. Of course I wet my diaper again, though refused to tell Basil before we got his settings adjusted. Ronson, the Vault mechanic, was keen to help. “Hell, even if there’s nothing but a spark I still got something to work with!” The large man gave a belly-laugh. Claudia hovered about him watching curiously as he began to work, and I decided to give her space. I had a long talk with Ellie about all the small things I had missed on my little adventure. Little bits and peices of gossip we normally talked about during feeding time in the Vault. When Claudia got back, she went over to Ellie to properly introduce herself, and neither come out for hours. So, there I was. I lay silently in bed, listening to the hushed whispers in the tent beside mine, and the sounds of people working the airbase. Just as I began to drift off into a nap, I heard scuffed footfalls outside. “Hey, Kid!” None other than Charles Montgommery shouted, “Come on out!” I groaned and rose tiredly from my makeshift bed, expecting to get a lecture on my behavior earlier from someone I barely knew. I pushed the flaps of my tent apart. My onesie hung open and exposed my sodden diaper to the world, and it was then realised Charles wasn’t outside my tent at all. He was outside Claudia’s With Charles were two other members of the Vault, and Florence Williams. “Mommy?” Ellie said, emerging from her tent as well. “Come here darling.” Florence opened her arms for Ellie, who fell into her Mom’s arms with a very confused look. Charles shouted again. “Come out here, mutant.” “Go away, doodie-head!” I said to Charles. “She’s under my Mom’s protection.” Charles narrowed his eyes at me. “Your Mother is under our protection, so stay quiet, kid.” He turned to Claudia’s tent. “I said, get out here, mutant scum!” Anger bubbled in my chest, and I clenched my fists to stop me doing something stupid. Claudia got there before me. “The hell did you just call me?” Claudia said, finally emerging from her tent. She came out slowly, had a wild look, her face curled into a snarl. Her fists were balled at her sides as well. And visible around her waist, with nothing to hide it, was the clean diaper she had been given by Mom. “You heard me.” Charles growled, and I had never wanted to hit someone so badly in my life. I held back, stepping just behind Claudia, letting her take the lead. She glanced back toward me, and gave a little nod of appreciation. Then that scary expression returned. It was the sort of face I imagined one animal would make to another when it was cornered. Without a word, Claudia took a step forward. Charles and his group all inched back. Behind him, two guards had guns, which they gripped tightly. Boy oh boy, did I wish Basil was with me. The stand off carried on for a few tense moments. I stared from Claudia to Charles, and back to Claudia, but when I looked back at her I noticed something I hadn’t before. She was wiggling ever-so-slightly, hopping subtly from foot to foot. Wait, is she..? Her tense expression suddenly relaxed. She leant back slightly, her shoulders hunching, and her diaper sticking out at the front a little. I watched as her little desperate movements stopped. In the tense silence, there was a familiar sound, as clear as day. Hissing. Her fresh diaper was only pristine for so long. Slowly, a yellow patch spread throughout the padding, crawling slowly up the front of her diaper from between her legs. If the hissing of her accident was quiet, Claudia herself certainly wasn’t. She let out an exaggerated moan of relief, followed by a long sigh. Her cheeks flushed, and she was biting her lip a little. All in all, it looked like she was in pure bliss. I was so proud of her. Like the growing warmth between Claudia’s legs, I watched as a large grin spread across Charles’ face. Eventually, Claudia finished up, pushing out a few final spurts of pee into the now very heavy padding as it swung a little under her. There was a moment where everyone seemed to be confused about what had happened. I took the opputunity to move beside Claudia, and Ellie stepped away from her Mom and joined Claudia’s other side. Mrs Williams was too shocked to speak. She only shook her head, dissapointed at Ellie and I. She strode quickly away, taking the two guards in tow. That left only Charles. “Well played, girl. “You’ve earned my respect.” He gave a single nod and turned. Without looking back, he said, “But that won’t save you out here.” Then, he left, and his own full diaper swung behind him. END OF CHAPTER 4

Thank you! More is on the way, I’ve written the next three chapters and am going to start posting them soon, once a week

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND EPISODE 2 ASHSTONE War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, lies the town of Ashstone, a settlement created by those unlucky enough to be trapped outside the vaults during the last days of the Great War. It is a small community, but loyal and friendly to most. Armed with their toolbox, a practical mind, and a secret very few know, Claudia Hughes is the town’s very own ‘Miss Handy’ repairing the few pieces of technology that remain in town. But what will happen when a stranger who shares in her secret activity wanders into town? *** The morning after I had re-programmed Basil was chilly. My vault-onesie didn’t cover my legs, which were all raised with goose-bumps. Fortunately, my full overnight diaper kept me nice and warm until the sun eventually began to warm the house. Basil changed me first thing, leaving me with … one … two … three… three diapers left. Basil fed me breakfast, mushy oatmeal rations which I got all over my face, and then cleaned me out of my bib. Then, without more delay, we set off. I used the time walking to catch up on the past hundred years with Basil. He floated slightly behind me, carrying my balled-up wet diapers in a bag. “And what happened to you, Basil? Why did you stay at the house?” I asked as we trudged through a forested area. The map read that we were in what used to be a park, but whatever had been here had been buried under layers of plants and trees. “Why, I worked for the Robinsons for over twelve years,” Basil said, “I daresay I wasn’t going to just abandon the pride and joy of their family for a few silly bombs sir!” “You never wanted to see what was out there? If they were still alive?” “I was told to stay and wait until they came back, why would I want to leave? At least, until you came along sir.” I nodded aimlessly, and found a stick to play with as we walked. After an hour’s hike, the sun was out in full and sparkling through the trees. Basil surprised me with a question. “Sir, may I ask you something?” he said, in a slightly funny tone. “Of course, Basil.” I said. “I can see clearly that I’ll be changing many a wet diaper on this adventure of yours, but should I expect any accidents of a stinkier nature as well?” “Sure.” I said nonchalantly, “Wait, I haven’t done a boom-boom have I?” I stopped suddenly, and looked around at my diaper. I hadn’t had to push, and I didn’t feel anything in my diaper, nor smell anything. Basil came up behind me, and I felt his robotic hand press against my padding. I jumped slightly, not expecting Basil to be so forward with his diaper checks. “My sensors do not indicate you’ve made messies yet.” he said, and I felt a pressure on my head, “Well done for keeping your pants clean, this long, Sir!” As he patted my head, I felt very pleased with myself. Seeing Basil behave so well, I thought it was a good opportunity to re-attach the buzzsaw. “Now, only use this when I says, m’kay?” It seemed like a good idea, after all I didn’t know if I’d run into more dangers out here. Maybe another rogue Mister Handy. “Of course Sir, I shall protect you with my life!” Basil said, which was good enough for me. It was comforting, also, to know that Basil was taking care of me as the other Mister Handy’s in the vault would. Thinking of home made my heart ache a little. Thankfully, I found a great distraction. We stood on the edge of a hill, where the forest fell away to fields of grass, littered with abandoned piles of junk. In the distance a ruined town lay flat across the land. At the very south of the ruins, was a colorful, smokey, noisy settlement. My heart leapt with joy. “Other people!” I said, thankful that I had finally found someone, which I assumed were humans. “Maybe we can get you some spare parts, Basil!” I turned to the robot, his stalked eyes lifted slightly, and the aperture inside widened. “You would do that, Sir? For me?” he said. “Of course, you’re my friend now Basil.” I gave him a pat on his sphere, and began the long waddle to town, narrating into my pip-boy for the record. The fact that other people had survived the apocalypse both excited me and, truthfully, made me a little nervous. What were they like? Were they dangerous? What type of diapers did they wear? All these questions spiraled in my head as I journeyed forward. As we approached, I realized that the piles of junk that had been littered about were actually old cars. They didn’t look much like the ones I had seen on the TV set, being all rusty-orange and half fallen apart, but it was still a treat to see one in real life. They became a common sight as we approached the remains of Blackstone–on the map, it said we were traveling down the main road. Quickly however, I realized how outdated my maps were. At the entrance to the settlement, a surprising number of people went about their business back and forth. “Morning!” I said as we walked past, “Hello there!” They all seemed curious, glancing toward me and Basil, but none approached. In fact they all seemed to hurry away from me. Maybe they had seen the re-attached buzzsaw on Basil. Above the makeshift metal gates to town, I found another surprise. The large sign did not read Blackstone, but instead read another name, written very crudely. “Ashstone?” I wondered aloud. “Hey! You!” a voice called behind me. I turned. “Hello?” I turned to see a wiry old man in overalls at least three sizes too large for him. He had rolled them up around his ankles, and still they were covered in mud. “I ain’t seen you ‘round here before.” He inspected my vault-uniform with interest, one eye wide, “Nice clothes you gots on there…” “Um … thank you?” “Hey, you ain’t from that military vault over the hills there, are ya?” His face lit up, his jaw widening into a rotten-toothed grin. “You betcha!” I smiled back, though I think it was lost on him. He continued to search me up and down, pausing on my waist. “How the hell did you survive them cannons?” the old man said, perplexed. I frowned. “Cannons?” “Yeah. Ma papa told me never to go near, cause when he was young, you see, he gots shot by a cannon on the airbase. Most folk don’t go near the airbase for that very reason.” the old man said. I was very confused at this point–I’d just walked out of the airbase, and nothing had stopped me, let alone something as big as a cannon. I wanted to press on, but I noticed the old man staring at my waist, and then at the paci around my neck. “Hey, why is everyone staring at me so strangely?” I asked. I thought it might stop him staring, but it didn’t. Instead, the man simply nodded. “Most people ain’t seen no vault-dweller before. Specially not one like … you.” he looked straight at my padded waist. “Okay. Well, I’ve just come to get some parts for my pal here…” “Your pal?” he looked behind me, to Basil. “Oh. I see…” For a moment he went still, and I thought he would run away. Suddenly I regretted putting that buzzsaw back onto Basil, especially if it meant scaring away potential acquaintances. “Well, if ya be wantin’ parts, ya best bet is Claudia Hughes, down in town there. She’ll have all ya needs for the robot there.” He gave a last, nervous glance to Basil, and quickly scurried away. Weird. I shrugged and, not knowing what else to do, headed into town to try and find this Claudia. Perhaps she’d be more welcoming. The town was small but busy. People wove between old ruined buildings, held up with wooden beams and roofed with bits of old cloth. Compared to the vault, it was dirty, crowded and stank. I felt a little dribble of pee soak into my diaper as I approached nervously, and my stomach clenched. Something felt off about this place, but I couldn’t tell what. “Maybe I should have asked where this Claudia was.” I said to Basil, who just returned a blank stare. I began to ask people questions about where to find Claudia. Some ignored me or ran away after seeing Basil by my side. One was extremely helpful, and gave me directions to around the small town. I learned that it had been established a number of years ago and was now home to a modest population. No one had been near the entrance to Vault 86 in years, owing to the ‘dangers’ that lurked there, though I was still incredibly confused about what this meant. Still, something nagged at me. Something here was wrong. Clearly this was a very different place to the world of the vault. It was almost like all the joy and color had been taken out of the world. Honestly, I kind of expected that. Made sense after nuclear devastation really. No, there was something else wrong. I couldn’t pin exactly what it was, until a man in little more than rags walked past. For the first time I realises he was diaperless. Everyone was. The revelation hit me like a brick–it wasn’t just a few people who didn’t wear diapers. Nobody here wore diapers. My head felt faint. Grandpa’s tales about a diaperless world hadn’t been fanciful fairy tales meant to scare us, they had been true. Oh god. I had to sit down before I fainted. “Are you okay sir?” Basil asked, his robotic voice distant. “Yeah, I think so.” I said, and I leant my back against the wall. The lack of diapers explained the smell around here–did people just go potty in the streets? Eewwie. How gross. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and began to sniffle. For comfort, I placed my paci in my mouth and suckled, though it didn’t help much. I unzipped Mr Fancypants from my bag and hugged him tightly. Was Vault 86 the last bastion of Littles in the world? Humanity had lost its way so easily. “Get back! You scoundrel!” I heard Basil say, accompanied by a crinkling sound. “Calm down robo-cop. Hey, kid, you alright there?” a woman’s voice asked. I looked up. She stood in baggy cargo-pants and an engine-grease stained vest. In fact, her entire body, up to her mousy hair, was caked in grease and oil. “I’m fwine!” I said, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my onesie. “Basil, stand down.” I said, just as he had begun to lift his buzzsaw. Reluctantly, he lowered it. The woman had a look of sympathy in her eyes as she looked down on me. Suddenly I realized that if I was to help bring diapers back into this world, I needed to make a good impression. So, ignoring my fear, and my longing for home, I put on a brave face. “I’m wooking for Cwaudia Hws?” I asked through my paci, “Dwo you know werew she ith?” “Huh. Well, you’ve found her.” the woman said. “I’m Claudia.” Suddenly, I found myself smiling, my paci fell around my neck. “I’m Joe, Joe Palmer. I’ve been looking for you.” I stood up, and the woman held out a hand. Reluctantly, I took it. There was a moment where Claudia eyed me up and down. I saw her take in my uniform, and knew the question she would ask before she asked it: “Are you a vault dweller? From 86?” her eyes widened. “Sure am.” I said, thankful that she had led the conversation. She looked me up and down, and frowned. “Were you sucking on a pacifier just then?” she asked. I nodded enthusiastically. “Is that a teddy bear?” “Mr Fancypants.” Her eyes fell to my waist. I saw her frown for a moment, then she went scarlet. “Are you wearing …” “A diapee? Yesh!” I nodded triumphantly–finally, we were making progress up here. “But you surface people don’t wear them?” I moved forward. “Woah there horsey.” Claudia held up her hands, “Clearly you do things differently down in the vault.” She eyed me again, glanced about here, and then seemed to come to some sort of decision. “You’re serious huh. Oh to hell with it … come back to my place kid, and I’ll fill you in.” Hesitantly, I nodded, and gestured for Basil to follow. Despite her calling me kid, Claudia only looked a few years older than me–maybe in her late twenties. She led me back to a small house attached to a workshop, and as soon as we arrived, she shut about half a dozen locks, and closed all the curtains conspiratorially. The place wasn’t exactly what I’d call neat, but it was in better condition that the house I had stayed in overnight. A large round wooden table sat in one corner, covered in miscellaneous machine parts, and old TV screens with the glass shattered. A more purpose-built workbench had been set up in a dark room at the back, with neatly organized parts laid out under a flickery lamp. A plump couch sat in a lounge covered in many different rugs piled across the floor. Claudia stood in the middle. “So,” she said once she was sure no one else was looking, “Only two other people in town know about this, but since you’re wearing them too, and it seems this ain’t some sorta prank…” Slowly, she dragged down her cargo-pants, revealing a very familiar sight–the high waistband of a diaper. “Don’t you dare tell anyone!” “You’re a vault-dweller too!?” I asked, jumping up. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I’m from the real world, even if most people besides me don’t wear diapers.” “But you do…” I asked, genuinely curious. Her blush deepend. “I … like it?” she said, though the question was aimed more at herself more than anything. “Besides, they’re convenient when working long hours on projects. I work to tight deadlines, I ain’t got time to waste on peein’” I stood, stunned that I had finally found someone else in this apocalypse who wore diapers like we did in 86. Perhaps humanity wasn’t doomed after all. Before I had a chance to speak, Basil chimed in. “Wet diaper, detected, are you in need of a change?” he asked, floating forward a little. I waved my hand. “Not yet Basil, I’m fine.” “Oh, silly sir! I wasn’t talking to you.” Basil’s eye stalks turned to Claudia. I didn’t realize it was possible for someone to blush so much. “Oh…” I said awkwardly, “I can wait outside?” “Um … no. That’s fine.” Claudia said, “I don’t have anything else to change into at the moment.” She looked down at her wet padding. “You should really change before you get a rash.” I suggested, but her face scrunched up angrily. “I said I’m fine, kid, don’t test me!” she didn’t shout, but somehow that was even scarier. I muttered an apology and she sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I … it’s been a really weird ten minutes.” “It’s been a really weird few days.” I agreed. Claudia paused, but perhaps something within her relented, because she sighed again. “Look, I need to go pick up some more … ‘supplies’. If you want to tag along, you can tell me more about your vault.” “By supplies you mean diapers?” I asked, and Caludia gave a little nod. I thought about this for a moment. I was curious about this place, and any new information I could get would be important–especially if that information was to do with the diaper supply chain. “Is it far?” “Two hour walk.” she said. It sounded daunting, but I was really curious about where she was getting her diapers from, if not the vault. “Okay then, I’ll go. But I want to hear more about the outside world too.” I said. Basil pointed a finger with an accusatory jab. “Is he yours?” Claudia asked me. “Yes. He’s my very best friend.” I gave Basil a pat. “Good bot.” “Good, it’ll be good to have some backup, just in case.” *** As we made our way through town, people greeted Claudia eagerly. She waddled a little, but I was the only one who seemed to notice, perhaps, because I was used to being around people in soaked diapers, or perhaps because I knew she was wearing one. Claudia seemed well liked–a town handy-person of sorts, who helped everyone with their mechanical needs. She explained some of the little, confusing things about this world. “People buy things? Like in the movies?” I asked, after finding out there was a currency made entirely made up of bottle caps. “Do people not do that in the vault?” “Pfff, no. We fix the Mister Handy’s and they do aaaallll the work for us. They keep us clean and happy, and they feed us, and give us sippy cups and stuff, not those weird bottle thingies.” Claudia’s jaw dropped, “I need to visit this place.” “It’s wonderful!” I spun on the spot, recalling my many years growing up. “Not like out here, it’s all gray and nuclear-y.” Claudia laughed, “It’s not so bad. You get used to it, and the people in Ashstone are really nice. Not like other places nearby.” “There are other places?” “Sure, Victoria’s okay I guess, they got some tension with us at the moment, their mayor is brothers with ours, so you get the idea. Sibling rivalry. But Pinkelton to the south? Most people are afraid of the place.” “Are you?” “Considering that’s where I get my diapers from, I don’t have the luxury to be afraid.” Claudia’s expression was determined, her stride set on getting resupplied. “But I’m happy to have back-up this time, I must admit.” I had a lingering question, one I didn’t feel had been answered by Claudia, not really. “Earlier, you said you like diapees, and at the time I was like, ‘well duh, they’re great’, but most people gave me weird looks in town, and you keep it a secret. Why? Why do you like them, and why do you hide them?” Claudia went quiet for a moment, and I could see her mind working, trying to figure out if she could trust me or not. In an attempt to give her a little solidarity, I popped my Tommy T-Rex pacifier in my mouth and smiled. I won a little giggle from Claudia. “Truthfully, they are convenient. But they’re also comfortable, and cozy, and they make me feel … small again. Like there’s nothing to worry about in the whole world. And when they’re used they … can also feel good, I guess.” “Yeppers!” I said, “That’s a great reason!” She smiled again, and continued, “But most people up here don't see it that way, all they see is a weirdo who wants to act like a baby. You’d think, after all that’s happened, after how many weird people come in and out of Ashstone each day, that it wouldn’t matter. But I got a reputation to keep-up.” “How do you know?” I asked. “Huh?” “How do you know they won’t just accept you? Have you asked them? Seen it happen before?” “I seen people look at you weird on your way into town. You said yourself.” “They looked at me weird because I’m a stranger. People in Ashstone know you. They like you.” “Think so?” “Sure I do! I like you anyways, and I just met you!” I jumped along beside her, and she giggled. “Thanks, I think I like you too.” “That makes three of us.” A voice from the trees said. Claudia paused, and held a hand to stop me and Basil. We were on a leaf-strewn path in the middle of a tall forest. Somehow very different from the one on the eastern edge of Ashstone, but full of the strange smell of greenery that I was so unused to. Without thinking, I let loose a little nervous toot. Claudia, blushing furiously again, looked toward me. “Sorry!” I whispered, “I haven’t gone poopie in a while.” “Can I help you?” The man’s voice called again, “Or are you just going to keep standing there?” “Cain? That you?” Claudia shouted at a large boulder. “Yes it is me, little miss potty-pants.” the man said with a smile in his voice. “Will you shut the hell up you little molasses-brained bastard. Get out here.” Claudia clapped her hands to her waist and stared down the rock. After a moment, the man made his way out as sharp as a knife’s edge. His hair was slicked back, he wore a suit that would have been smart were it not tattered and moth-eaten. He was tall and thin, but hunched over a little. “Well well well, who do we have here?” he said to me with a sly grin. “Make a new friend?” “Cain, this is Joe. Joe, Cain. Cain here is my … ahem … supplier.” “Oh … I see.” I crossed my arms, and puffed myself up a little. Behind me, I sensed Basil rise as well. Cain backed off. Wise. “Now now, no need to be so … intense. Are you a baby like little Claudia here?” He whipped out a hawk-headed cane, and lent against it. I nodded. “Well, I’m afraid both of you will have to wait to get your changies I’m afraid.” “What…” Claudia stepped forward. “What the hell does that mean?” “It means that Mister Pinkel has been very naughty and—” “Would ya stop with the baby babble?” Claudia said, her anger rising. Cain rolled his eyes. “Fiiinnnee. You people are such a bore, honestly. Pinkel has cut off my supplier. Not sure why, but it means no diapers for you, I’m afraid dear girl, or your friend here.” “No! Damn it! Those bastards!” She kicked dirt across the ground. “Well that’s not a problem,” I said, “There are plenty in–” “Go fuck yourself Cain.” Claudia said suddenly, and before I could argue, I was dragged away, both mine and Claudia’s diapers crinkling loud in the quiet forest. “Goodbye, mon cheri!” I heard Cain shout from a distance. “So long, good luck with your potty training!” Claudia ignored him. She dragged me to a non-descript part of the woods, off the track a little ways. I looked up in amazement at the vibrant red leaves, they seemed almost unnatural. The golden light of the sun just about peaked through them, and I had to be careful not to blind myself. My stomach cramped, and I let out another little fart which spread throughout my padding. Claudia didn’t seem to notice, she only glanced about suspiciously when we had finished walking a little ways, checking for others nearby. “Why’d you do that?” I asked when she had finished looking around. “It seemed a little rude.” “Because Cain’s a dick, and if you tell him you have something he wants, he’ll get it, and that includes you guys in the vaults. Everyone’s been too scared to go onto the airbase because of its defenses, but if you walked out, that must mean the defenses are down somehow. And if Pinkel is involved somehow…” “Oh.” I said, and then the true scale of the situation hit me. “Oh no. No no no. I have to go back and warn them.” “Back to the vault?” Claudia asked. “I need to report tomorrow evening anyways. With all I’ve discovered, I’m sure they won’t mind me coming in a little early. You should come with me.” Claudia didn’t answer, instead, she seemed to grow very still, deep in thought. “We have diapees there…” I said quietly, and her eyes flickered back to life. “Okay, let’s go.” “Awesome.” I said, and clicked some buttons on my pip-boy to log this section of woodland. As we spoke, I saw Claudia fiddle with her trousers a little. She stuck a hand around her inner thigh, and I realized she was fiddling with the leg-holes of her diaper. She seemed uncomfortable, as if she was trying to scratch an itch. If she had been waiting on a new supply of diapers, then she might not have changed for hours–or out here, even days. “Claudia?” I asked, and she looked at me questioningly. “Are you oka–” before I could finish, her eyes widened. “Shit!” she said under her breath, and we both watched as a dark patch grew from where she had been fiddling, spreading slowly around the gap between her diaper and her leg, and trailing down her pants. END OF CHAPTER 2 DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND CHAPTER 3 THE LEAK War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, two new friends journey across what remains of the world outside, their destinies aligned. But bodily functions often have a will of their own. With diapers running low, and both companions springing leaks in their pants, will they be able to get the diaper change they so desperately need, before a messier sort of accident? *** “Shit!” Claudia said under her breath, and we both watched as a dark patch grew from where she had been fiddling, spreading slowly around the gap between her diaper and her leg, and trailing down her pants. “I think you need a change.” I said. “No shit. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m all out of diapers.” “I can give you one of mine, if you want?” I suggested. Besides Claudia’s kindness over the past day, it was all I could do to help another diaper-wearer out. “Ha! Thanks kid, but I already owe you enough, and I ain’t got no more caps to spare.” “It’s no problem, really. You can have it. I have some rash cream too if you need it.” I began to get the stuff out of my pack, but Claudia held up her hands. “Wait, wait.” She said, seeming genuinely surprised. “You’d really let me have one of your diapers?” “Sure, I mean I’ve got more than you have, makes sense to share. I’m sure Basil will even change you if you want.” I pointed to Basil, who gave us an enthusiastic thumbs up. Claudia went deep crimson again. “I … I can change by myself, but thanks anyway.” she said quietly. There was a moment of awkward silence. “We should get back to town before it gets too dark. We can stay at my place overnight, then head to your vault in the morning.” “You’d really give me a place to stay?” I asked, wide eyed. No one had been that generous to me before, not even inside the vault, really. Claudia nodded, “Sure, it’s the least I can do.” “Fankooooo, fankooo!” “Hey now, don’t get too enthusiastic. Let’s get moving, alright? I still need to pee a little, and this diaper can’t take anymore.” She said and we made our way back to Ashstone, both waddling a little, though Claudia, with her wet pants, seemed to spread her legs a little wider than me. On the way, my stomach cramped every half-hour or so, but each time it passed quickly. I had an idea of what was coming, but decided to hold off on that until I had someplace safe to change. I didn’t want to attract monsters with my stink. Claudia began to wriggle, growing more and more desperate with every step. It was dark by the time we reached the outer gate. “Thank goodness.” Claudia whispered, as we quietly made our way back down a side-street. The moon peeked through the clouds a little, and reflected against the metal shop-wall “Pssst, Claudia!” a familiar voice suddenly said, and just ahead I saw his figure standing against the moon. I jumped, and let loose an accidental toot. Claudia groaned, clearly desperate to get back inside where she could pee in peace. What a pair we were, both desperate to use diapers that were already full to the brim. “Rogers?” Claudia hissed back, “The hell are you doing here?” “Mayor Dawson wants to see ya, she’s waiting round the front.” The man approached slowly, and then stopped, and leaned forward, like he was squinting. As his face came into the light, I suddenly recognised who it was. “It’s you!” we both said at the same time. It was the old man at the gates of Ashstone who had stopped me. “You ain’t got that devil robit with ya?” The old man said, one eye wild. “Why! Devil? I’ve never heard such insolence–” Basil’s buzzsaw spun into action, but I held up a hand before anyone could get hurt. “Wait!” I said defensively, “He’s my friend.” Slowly, Old Man Rogers backed away. “Sure he is.” He squinted, then quickly changed subjects, “I see you found our Claudia.” “Wait,” Claudia said, turning, “Rogers, you sent Joe to me?” “Sure I did.” Old man Rogers said, “Thought ya needed a potty training buddy, and seems I was right…” he looked down at Claudia’s wet legs. “Oh, scurry off ya mole-rat piece of shit.” Claudia said, but Rogers just grinned madly, and backed out of the alley. “Well, good night, ya little babies. Get some shut-eye, and maybe a fresh diaper, hehe.” As we watched him go, I sensed Claudia’s rage dissolve into a resigned frustration. “Stay here a mo, will ya?” she said, “I guess I have a customer.” “But your leak?” I said, pointing at her wet jeans. “Shit, yeah.” Her pee had run all the way down her legs, and was damp and saturated in her pants. Distantly, a woman called from around the front. “Hughes? You in there?” she shouted. I guessed this was Mayor Dawson. “I think I have an idea–keep quiet, stay here.” she said to me, and waited for me to nod before fleeing inside. Quietly, I went up to a window. Claudia hurried over to her workshop, and disappeared into another room. Mayor Dawson’s knocking became more insistent, but Claudia quickly reappeared, hopping into a baggy boiler-suit, with her soaked pants still on underneath. “Coming!” she shouted, and she barely managed to get the boiler suit around her legs before she reached the door. She tied the sleeves around her waist, and welcomed the mayor inside. “Sorry about that, Jane. I was just … finishing something delicate.” “I’d hate to take you away from your work my dear.” Mayor Dawson was a middle aged woman, not tall, but lean. Her face was wrinkly, and while she wore a warm expression now, I suspected it could grow very stern, very quick. I could see Claudia struggle a little once Dawson had passed, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot. She was growing desperate. “I just wanted to check on you,” Mayor Dawson settled down on the couch as if it were hers, “Rogers says you were out hiking, at night of all times.” “Scavenging for parts, Ma’am. Hard to come by these days.” “Naturally,” Dawson nodded serenely, “Do be careful, we have many enemies out here, recently acquired ones not included.” Claudia paused, I could see a question on the tip of her tongue, and clearly Dawson could too. “Spit it out, Hughes.” she said with an amused smile. “You mean Pinkelton?” Claudia sat on a chair and crossed her legs in an attempt to stem the oncoming flow. “Ah, so you’ve heard. He’s cut off some of our supplies, blocked a trading route. That’s probably why you’re low on parts, my dear.” Dawson raised an eyebrow. “Um… Sure, ma’am. But I don’t see much we can do but pull our pants up, so to speak.” Claudia glanced down at her crotch, and I saw her wiggle a little. “Listen, it’s mighty nice of you to come here tonight Mayor Dawson, but now really ain’t a good time I’m afraid.” I could see the nervousness in Claudia’s eyes. There was a long, drawn-out pause, and when Dawson stood, so did Claudia. “I understand.” Mayor Dawson said, “It’s been a long day. Come find me tomorrow evening and perhaps we can talk a while longer.” she made her way to the door, but paused there. “I know you think there’s little you can do, but you’d be surprised at the difference a single person can make.” She left without closing the door. Claudia closed the door, waited alone for a moment, and finally let loose a mighty sigh, her fidgeting settling into stillness. More dark patches began to spread around the inner thighs of her boiler suit, having soaked through both her leaky diaper and saturated pants beneath. When we were sure Mayor Dawson had gone, Claudia gestured for me inside. “Damn it! That’s two pairs to clean up.” she said, removing her boiler suit. I sat awkwardly on the couch. It felt rude to get too comfortable in a stranger’s house, and I was growing more urgent to poop. Without thinking, I let loose some gas to help relieve some tension, and was about to completely poo my diaper, but I suddenly realized something: if people up here didn’t wear diapers, then would it be weird for me to poop? I made the decision to ask Claudia after she had changed. As much as it pained me, both morally and literally, I held back my oncoming accident. I could do that, right? Claudia wasn’t going to be long, and I had to be brave up here, especially if I was to make allies. I didn’t want to offend my host by pooping on her couch. I smiled as kindly as I could, hiding my grimace, and handed Claudia the folded diaper. She took the diapers with a very red face. To my delight, she said, “Thankie.” before hurrying quickly into a backroom, where she drew a curtain. I heard the sounds of her cargo pants rustling, and the crinkle of an unfolding diaper. “Sorry about Rogers.” She said loudly from behind the curtain, “He’s a weirdo, honestly. He’s the only other person that knows about my diapers. Bastard caught me taking out a soaked one, and I swore him to secrecy for the rest of his life. I caught him in a bind, too you see. Fella loves dressing up as an animal, a wolf. Weirdo.” “If he’s not hurting anyone,” I said, thinking of the strange looks I received earlier, “Then what’s the harm? I guess it’s no weirder than diapers.” “I … I guess…” Claudia admitted, just as another fart escaped beneath me, filling every gap of air in my padding. “Um … Claudia…” I asked, but she didn’t seem to hear. She was taking her time in there, and I was beginning to doubt my ability to hold my messy accident in. “Are you okay? Do you need help? Basil can come in if you want.” “I’m on it, sir!” Basil said enthusiastically. “No–I–” I heard her struggle a little, then, “I’m fine!” If Basil seemed disappointed, I didn’t notice. I was in the middle of my own struggle. I began to wriggle uncomfortably in my seat. Come on! I thought desperately, Come on! I squeezed myself, feeling the head of my load beginning to come out. Oh no. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for Claudia to finish up however. She dragged the curtain away, and walked out pantsless, with her fresh diaper on show. It was good that she was trying to be more confident about diapers. She seemed a little nervous about it, so I gave an encouraging smile. “Better?” I said, trying my best not to wriggle too much. She gave a little twirl. “Hehe. They’re a little thicker than I’m used to,” She bent her legs, and adjusted the leak-guards with a finger. “But other than that, snug as a radroach in a sewer!” she said, and waited for a reaction. I gave her a blank stare. “I have no idea what any of those words mean.” “I’m comfortable, thanks.” I wasn’t so comfortable. Things were moving very quickly, if I didn’t get permission right now, I doubted I ever would. “Um … Claudia?” I began, but she walked past me. “Hang on, I just need to find somewhere to put this.” she said, walking into a room behind me. I clenched my stomach amidst a barrage of farts. “Claudia…” My voice rose anxiously, but I heard no response. I wiggled manically, desperately trying to hold back the inevitable. “Claudia! Unnnfff!” “I’ll be there in a second, hang on!” she said. I really wasn’t sure I could anymore. I shot up and began to dance from foot-to-foot, hoping it would somehow help against the tide of poop. Desperately I danced and danced, clenching every muscle in my body. I looked to Basil for help, but he stared blankly back, almost expecting me to do my dirty deed. “I can’t wait! I’m about to–” Too late. I instinctually bent my knees and began to push, though I didn’t need to try too hard. “Mmmnnn, poopie!” A large, firm ball of poop shifted into my diaper–it expanded out the back, making room for itself as it mushed against my butt, and down between my legs. “Nnnn!” The mess fell neatly into my seat, weighing down my diaper with a crinkle. I grunted as more mess forced its way out, following the first load, and building up in the back of my pants, firm but squishy. I balled my fists and began to shake as I pushed, pushed, pushed. My diaper swung forward and back, the mess was so heavy, and felt so good! I was already feeling much better, and decided to stop fighting completely. Wee wee rushed into my diaper, making the front grow warm and soggy as the wetness crawled through the padding. With one last final push, I let go of a fart and a big sigh, and my face curled into a satisfied smile. “Ahhhh.” I looked down at my yellowed and browned padding. I had just helplessly pooed myself. “Whoopsie.” Panicking a little, I stepped back, only to walk into the couch, which I fell right onto. My fresh load squished all around my butt, and spread out across my diapered rear and between my legs. “Sorry about that.” Claudia said, coming suddenly back into the room, still only wearing a diaper and her vest. I felt my face grow hot as I realized what I had done. Nervously I glanced away from her, and tried to act as naturally as I could, pretending I didn’t have messy underwear. Honestly, I didn’t know why I was so embarrassed, no one was embarrassed about a messy accident back in the vault. But for some reason, I didn’t want Claudia to notice now, I didn’t want her to know I was just a stinky diaper baby, who couldn’t control himself. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much say in the matter. “You’ve gone awfully quiet,” Claudia said, smiling, “You–hey … what’s that smell, ugh.” She waved a hand in front of her face. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the mess spreading out even more. But before I could say anything, Basil spoke for me. “I believe young sir has just had a little accident in his diapee.” he said. My eyes grew damp, but I was determined not to cry. “I … um …” I stuttered. It took a moment for Claudia to realize what had happened, but I could see her expression shift as she figured it out. “Oh? Oh. Oooooohhhh. You pooped?” “Um … Uh-huh.” I nodded shyly. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up into a ball and disappear. “I’m sowwy.” I squeaked, unable to hold back tears. “What’s there to be sorry about, kid?” Claudia came up and knelt before me, placing a calming hand on my knee. “Well I … I know you don’t do that sort of thing here and …” I began to sob, “I wanted you all to see me as a big boy, so I could represent my vault. But I went and pooped my pants! You think we’re all weirdos, and don’t want anything to do with a bunch of pants-messers.” Claudia sighed. “Joe, it’s okay sweetie. It’s my fault, really. I should have realized you needed to go poop. I guess it’s what you’re used to huh. Why don’t you calm down a bit, go get changed, and we can get some rest?” “Okie…” I said quietly, wiping away tears. “Jeez, you did a stinker, huh?” She teased. I smiled a little, her humor helped, and reminded me of home. “Basil, can you change me please?” “Of course sir,” Basil placed his robotic hand on my shoulder and led me to the room Claudia had changed in. It was only small, but there was enough space to lie down. Annoyingly, there was a strange white seat, with a lid on top, taking up a lot of room, along with a sink. I drew the curtain and tried to find a comfortable position. Basil hovered over me. “What a weird room.” I said, wiping my eyes on my sleeve again. I was still tearing up a little, but my sniffles had calmed down, and now that I was in the familiar situation of a diaper change, I felt waaaay better. “Are you ready for changies?” he said, bringing up my T-Rex pacifier, and placing it in my mouth. I nodded shyly and Basil began to change me, tearing off the tapes and unfolding the padding to see the present I had dropped inside. “My, my, someone’s made a large old mess, haven’t they?” I went all blushy and covered my face, as Basil used a damp washcloth to clean my tooshie. The feel of the washcloth around my butt felt good–I always enjoyed feeling clean again after a messy diaper change. Memories of the vault rushed back to me, and although I wished I was back there now, I felt excitement well up within me, knowing I could return tomorrow. “You alright in there, kid?” Claudia asked from behind the curtain. “Uh-huh.” I said, looking up at the ceiling as Basil worked, sucking on my paci absentmindedly. “Good, that’s good. Listen, everyone out here wants caps and the like for favors. Well, I was thinking about all that you done for me, giving me a diaper, taking me to your vault and all, and I want to do you a favor in return.” she said, her voice growing quiet. I decided it would be best to take my pacifier out to talk, and let it fall around my neck. “You’re already letting me stay here.” “But I want to do something more.” she let the silence linger, and I thought about her offer. “Um … well…” I hesitated, was it asking too much? No. Claudia had made the offer, so I should at least suggest it. “Well, before we came into town, I kinda promised Basil I’d fix him up a little.” Basil paused in the middle of unfolding a clean diaper. His eyestalk looked from me, to the curtain, and back to me. Claudia went quiet for a moment, before answering. “I think that’s a great idea.” she said, “I’ll make him good as new!” “Hey,” I wondered aloud as Basil finished up, “What is this room for? There’s a weird seat that gets in the way.” I didn’t get an answer immediately, only a giggle from the other side of the curtain. “Well,” Claudia began, “That’s a bathroom. The white chair is a ‘toilet’. I guess the word ‘potty’ might be more appropriate for you though.” “Potty.” I said to myself–I’d heard of those, we had been taught about them in school. “You pee and poop in those?” I asked, gobsmacked. “Haha, yeah, usually.” Claudia said, and I craned my head up. “What if you … fall into it?” I asked–it was basically a hole with water at the bottom. It looked dangerous to be honest, far easier to just mess your pants, even if you did have to change afterwards. “Why do you think I prefer diapers?” Was all Clauda said, though I swore I heard her chuckling to herself. Basil fastened the diaper snugly around my waist, and popped the buttons on my onesie back together again, before giving my freshly diapered toosh a pat. “Finished?” Claudia said, and I drew back the curtains, and nodded. “How about we get you to bed and fix Basil up in the mornin’, then we can head over to the vault? How does that sound?” “I think I’d like that.” I said with a big grin. I helped Claudia drag in an old mattress. It was way more comfortable than sleeping straight on the ground, and whether it was because I knew I was in a safe place, or because I had worn myself out today, I fell almost immediately into a deep sleep, and didn’t wake up again until late the next morning. Predictably, I woke up wet, and changed into my last diaper. Claudia was already awake, fiddling quietly away at her workbench. I watched her work for a bit, not pretending to sleep, but not bothering to get up either. It was neat, watching her so absorbed in her work. Eventually, I decided to get up and we chatted whilst finding bits and pieces for Basil. “This here is my shop.” Claudia said, leading me into the building attached to her home. It was full of junk, bits and pieces organized into boxes on shelves. She had small piles of scrap littered about the place, some weapons against the wall, and an assortment of robotic arms lined up on a rack that caught my interest. She must have seen me eyeing them because she came up to me and said, “They’ll do for Basil, no?” “Sure, I think so.” I eyed each one. There was another hand-attachment that almost matched the one already on Basil, and I decided it would be good (for both Basil and my diaper changes) to get it for him. We spent the rest of the morning sat on the workbench together and began tenderly fixing Basil up. “Oh, young sir, there’s really no need to fuss!” he said as we cleaned off some rust, and re-worked some of his wiring to make him more efficient. “Oh, I do feel much better now, though.” As we sat side by side, working on Basil, I noticed Claudia raise herself up from her chair a little and let loose a quiet sigh. Her diaper, still fresh from the night before, began to rapidly turn yellow, and expand out as she wet it. I heard a gentle hiss, as her diaper filled. “Sorry,” she said, “I was holding that all morning!” That got a giggle from me, which Claudia quickly joined in on. “Claudia,” I said after we had calmed down a little, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you go poopies in your diaper at all?” She paused suddenly, her face turning that familiar red I was now used to when she was embarrassed. “Well … I … no. I haven’t tried it yet, I ain’t as confident going number two as you are, that’s for sure.” “Oh. Back in the vaults, we just sort of … let go whenever we feel the need, you see. I guess I’ve just become used to it.” “Yeah. I might try, someday, but I ain’t done one yet.” she said, and I sensed that she wanted to leave the subject alone. We were ready and packed to leave within an hour of finishing Basil–we didn’t have many things to pack. Claudia was full of chatter as we made our way to the vault, asking me lots of questions about my home, and how I grew up in a place where you never really grew up at all. “It’s just normal I guess?” I said as we walked, “We don’t spend all day playing about–we go to school and stuff and learn about the time before the bombs, and the outside world. We sometimes help out with the farming, and usually we’re constantly repairing a Mister Handy or two–we have so many to keep maintained, and they’re not great at repairing themselves.” “So, let me get this straight, you spend all day in diapers, being little, and repairing robots? Joe, I’m not sure you realize how much like my idea of heaven this is…” “Yeah, I guess it is pretty great when you put it like that.” I agreed, and we came to the other end of the forest. The airbase was just in sight across the overgrown neighborhood I had passed on my way here. As we approached, something caught my eye. I thought I saw something new on the airbase, something that wasn’t there before. “Are those tents?” Claudia suggested, and I squinted. “Yeah, I think they are.” They were blue and gold, the same as my vault-tec onesie, and printed on the sides in big gold lettering was the number ‘86’. My heart began to race. “Joe, where are you going?” Claudia shouted, but as I sped away, her voice was already distant. I had never been so scared in my life, fearful for my family and community, terrified of what might have happened. “Hello?!” I began shouting to them, “It’s Joe! Joe Palmer!” In the distance a few heads turned, ones I recognised. They sent Ellie Williams out, a short girl, only a year older than me, and she was running nearly as quickly towards me. “Joe? You’re back already! Aw, I knew you would be!” she said, and we embraced in a big hug. Her diaper was puffy and wet, almost as much as mine. “Why is everyone camping outside?” I asked, and Ellie’s face fell. “It’s best if the Overseer tells you everything, but” she hesitated. “Well, there’s been a major radiation leak, and we’ve had to evacuate. We’re mostly safe.” “Mostly?” I asked but Ellie seemed distracted suddenly. “Who’s that?” she asked as Claudia caught up with me, Basil trailing behind her. “Oh, I do wish you would not run off like that Master Joe.” Basil said, grumbling. “This is Basil, my new caretaker,” I said, before ushering Clauida forward. “And this is Claudia, she’s from a settlement not far from here. Ashstone.” “There are other people!?” Ellie looked as shocked as I had been. “Sure are, a bunch of us.” Claudia said, strangely holding out a hand. “You don’t … you don’t shake hands here?” she asked. Ellie looked to me for answers, and not having any, I shrugged. “Well, if you’ve helped Joe here, you’re welcome,” Ellie said, “Not that we have much to welcome you with I’m afraid. Either of you need a change?” “No, I’m clean, and my padding can probably take a few more before I leak.” I said. Claudia just went red and shook her head shyly. I felt a hand over my bottom suddenly, and realized that Basil was checking whether I really was clean. Claudia yelped slightly as Basil did the same to her, and then checked Ellie, who didn’t react at all. She was used to the regular checks in the vault. His hand fell into her diaper with a squish, and she giggled a little. “Pooowee, I think we’ve found a stinker!” Basil said to Ellie. “I was about to go for changies Basil, sir, but then I saw Joe here.” she justified, puffing her chest out a little beneath crossed arms, proud that she was going to change on her own initiative. She was rewarded with a pat on the head from Basil. “What a well behaved girl you are!” “We should probably report back to Overseer Carmichael.” I said, “It’s been a crazy three days.” Ellie cringed a little. “Well, you should know, Carmichael isn’t exactly the overseer anymore.” She said quietly. My jaw dropped. “What happened? Who is the overseer then?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around what Ellie was saying. “That’s the other thing. Joe, the current overseer is your mom.” END OF CHAPTER 3

Just a short story I posted on FA a while back. I am currently writing another story in this world, so we'll see where that goes, but for now ... ----------- ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED 18+ Best Day - An ABDL Story I lay in my crib, my eyelids heavy. Above me lies a sea of glow-in-the-dark stars, floating out of reach in the morning light. My nappy is thick around my thighs, my legs separated, pushed apart by the damp padding. It’s quiet, mostly, except for the sound of Daddy downstairs, making breakfast. The smell of warm porridge floats upstairs, under my door, and into my room, and my mouth begins to water. Food soon–it’s a big day ahead, and if I’m going to make the most of it, I need to be ready. I realise I don’t have my dummy, it must have fallen out in my sleep. Groggily, I turn over onto my belly, and come face-to-face with my dummy, it’s rubber nipple touching my nosie. I giggle a little, and suck the nipple until it wiggles it’s way back into my mouth again. Sucky sucky. I need to go wee wee, I can feel it in my tummy. But before I can stop or hold back, my nappy grows warm again, as fresh wetness is added. I could only just about press my legs together before, but it is impossible now. The nappy has soaked my little accident, and it feels so good. I moan happily, alone in my room, and wriggle about against the bed in my very soggy nappy. “Hey there, little one.” I hear, and stop wriggling. My door creaks open, and Daddy is there, standing in the light of the morning sun. “Is someone being a naughty little boy?” he walks over to my crib, and leans against it. He looks down tenderly at me, a little smile on his face. I grow all embarrassed, my face flushed and hot. “No!” I insist, through my dummy, “I a goowd boy!” “Well, my little stinkybutt, we’ve got a busy day ahead, haven’t we? We need to get ready.” I groan. “Can I shtay in bed a wittle wonger?” I ask, but daddy shakes his head. “It’s breakfast time now, and by the looks of it we still need to change your nappy, and get you dressed for the park.” “Is Wosie still coming?” I ask, and daddy smiles again. “She sure is. Think you want to have breakfast now?” he smirks, and I nod with a newfound energy. Daddy releases the side of my crib and helps me out of bed. I tail him with a waddle, comfortable in my onesie and thick night-time nappy, and follow him downstairs into the kitchen, where the smell of hot porridge and honey meets me. My dummy is taken away, and placed on the counter. I sniff the sweet smelling food, even as I’m helped into my colourful wooden high-chair, and my stomach grumbles. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until now. Once I’m in my chair, Daddy sits across from me. He scoops up some porridge and zig zags the spoon toward my waiting mouth. I focus, ready to eat. “Neeeeoooowww,” Daddy says, mimicking an engine, “Here comes the aeroplane!” I open my mouth wide. The spoon comes at me quick. I’ve done this many times before, every day for twenty six years, but I always seem to miss. Daddy zags at the last minute, just as I go in for the bite. Porridge gets all over my mouth and my onesie. “Oh dear, I should have got you a bib, shouldn’t I?” daddy grins slyly, and I know he’s done it deliberately, surely I’m not that messy? A bib is quickly attached around my neck and I am given free reign over the spoon. The porridge is good porridge, sweet and filling, warm and gooey. Excited to get to the park, and see Rosie, I eat quickly and get a lot down me, but that’s what the bib is for, all that is expected of me–I can’t be trusted to eat sensibly after all. My face is a smeary mess of oat and honey. After I’ve had my fill, savouring the sweet taste of honey, Daddy comes and cleans me up a little. Without warning, he reaches down and squeezes my nappy, and I groan. “Mmmm.” he mumbles. Unsatisfied, he reaches around one of the leg-holes, pokes his finger inside my damp padding. “Yep, you’re soaked. Okay stinkybutt, time for changies.” And he lifts me out of my chair. My mind wanders to the day ahead, to the park, to Rosie, as I’m led into the bright living room. A mat is spread out, plastic and crinkly, and Daddy makes me lie down. “Daddy,” I ask as he snaps open my onesie, “Will Rosie’s daddy be there too?” “He sure will, Dan’s going to be talking with me, while our little babies play.” Daddy says as he enters the routine of morning changes. I see him blush a little. Daddy is the best, taking me to play with Rosie at the park, but I know he isn’t going just for me. I wonder sometimes why he doesn’t tell Dan how he feels, but I never ask him. It’s not my job to worry about such things. Daddy would definitely say the same. I’m too little right now to worry about that. He tears open the sides of my nappy, and hums a song–he does it whenever he’s excited. “What a soggy baby you are.” Daddy says. I look down at the yellowed padding, as air hits my bare waist. The inside is swollen with a night and morning wettings (and maybe a little bit of wee from before bed as well). Daddy says “Well, let’s get you freshened up.” And he begins to wipe my bottom and privates with a wet-wipe that’s cold against my skin. As Daddy changes me I day-dream about the park. I think about the twizzly red slide and how much fun it is to race down it. I think about the climbing frame, and how my nappy swings below me as I climb from bar to bar. I think, eagerly, about the sandbox, my absolute favoritest part of the whole entire park. Crawling about in the sand makes me feel so little, and making sandcastles and shifting sand about, and playing with my plastic car. “Woah there stinkybutt,” Daddy says, holding my legs still, “A little less wriggling please.” “Sowwy daddy.” I say, and try to contain my excitement as much as I can, as difficult as it is, and stop my legs moving. Without a word, Daddy lifts my legs, and knowing what’s next, I help by raising my bottom off the ground. A fresh nappy, all crinkly and soft, is slid under me, along with a generous sprinkle of powder. I suspect Daddy won’t want to change me at the park if he doesn’t have to, not that babies like me can help it of course. He’ll likely just leave me in my wet nappy for longer. I smile up to Daddy and he beams back. A fresh onesie comes next. It’s blue with a green t-rex on the front. “Arms up!” Daddy says and I obey, letting him slide it on me, and pull it around my fresh nappy. Then my dungarees. “Hop in!” Daddy says, and I obey, climbing into the jeans leg-by-leg, and leaning on Daddy’s shoulders for support. He snaps the buttons underneath my crotch together, checks the back is secure, and gives my padded bottom a firm pat. “What a cute butt you have.” he says, and I feel my face grow hot again. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t do that, especially not in public. Yet, a part of me, deep down, wishes he’d do it more. I was very cute after all. If Daddy says so, it must be true! I am allowed to play in the living room with my toy car for a bit whilst Daddy packs, and makes sandwiches. “Jam please!” I say and he chuckles warmly, spreading far too much jam into my sandwich. When he’s finished I am given my dummy back, and we climb into the car. Daddy straps me into a big carseat, and I am given my fluffy teddy backpack to hold, and I put my red car inside it, whilst Daddy places a big bag with spare changes in the back of the car. Then, we are off. The park we were going to was through town, too far to walk, but close enough so it’s not a long journey. As we drive, my mind wanders absentmindedly to the road around me and all the cars. “Look, daddy! There’s a red one!” I point as it drives past. It matches the little red car I have in my bag. “Good boy!” Daddy says, keeping his eye on the road, “I bet you can’t count how many red cars you see?” “I can!” I insist, “I can count them all the way up to ten!” “Wow, that’s such a big number, I’m not sure you can count that high. You’ll have to show me you can.” I begin counting immediately. “1, 2…” I quickly find the stop-start of the traffic soothing enough that my eyelids grow heavy. It had been a really early start. Perhaps, if I just take a quick nap… “Alex… we’re here kiddo.” Daddy coos gently from the front of the car. Slowly, I open my eyes and begin to rub the sleep out of them. “It’s time to wake up Alex.” “I’m awake Daddy.” I say as I hear the crunch of stones beneath the car. “How many cars did I count?” “Oh, you got up to five! You were half-way there, kiddo.” he says and I grin broadly behind a big yawn. I’m getting good at counting. “Dan says he and Rosie are already here sweetie, see if you can find them while I park.” Immediately I jump up in my seat, suddenly more awake, and a lot more exited. I feel my waist grow a little warm, and realise that my excitement must have made me pee a little, but that’s what my protection is for, after all. I search the car park for Rosie and Dan. As we bump across the uneven surface, I scan each and every car until– “There they are!” I say and point to a man and woman about my age. Dan is tall, taller than Daddy, and his white t-shirt makes him bright in the summer sun. He has a back-pack on, and what looks like a heavy bag at his side, no doubt full of nappy supplies. Rosie, in her denim dungaree-skirt almost matches me, except her shirt is pink and not green. I wave at them as we pass, and they spot us and wave back. Rosie jumps up and down in the air, almost matching my energy. Daddy turns around and parks up next to them. Rosie is waiting impatiently as I leap out without thinking. “Alex!” she shouts back. Normally I’m not a fan of hugs, but for Rosie and Dan, I make an exception. We stay locked for a moment as our daddies greet eachother. “Do you want to go on the swings with me when we get there?” Rosie asks and I nod. “And the roundabout!” I say. “Hey Alex,” Dan says, towering over everyone. He ruffles my hair–I like it when he does that, it makes me feel all small and helpless. I shrink into myself shyly, quietly enjoying the attention. “Look at how tall you are! You must have grown loads since Rosie and I last saw you.” “Daddy says I haven’t.” I pout, “But I reckon I’ve grown a metre since then!” “Wow! A whole metre! I’m sure you have bud!” he ruffles my hair again. Suddenly I feel a tug from behind–Daddy has pulled back my dungarees and nappy. Without a word, he lets go and the elastic in my dungarees snaps back into place. “He’s a little wet, but I’m sure it’ll hold a little more.” “Rosie’s dry as a desert at the moment but…” their voices trail off as me and Rosie lead the way to the park. As we both walk slightly bow-legged from the thick (and already slightly damp) padding between our legs, we catch-up in the way that old friends do. Rosie tells me about their six-month visit to France, where they were helping Dan’s brother move house. “He had so much stuff!” Rosie says, hopping along beside me, “A bunch of old comics and books and things like that. She’s vastly more energetic than me, her excitement bubbling over into movement. I just grin and enjoy her company, and our daddies chatting idly behind us. “Uncle Will was showing me how to speak French too! You wanna hear?” “Sure!” I nod. “Jay sank grenools.” Rosie says it with the confidence of someone who definitely doesn’t know how to speak French. I hear our daddies chuckle from behind, their adult conversation quiet and distant, too important to interest me or Rosie. “That means ‘I have five frogs.’” Rosie says, beaming with pride. “Good girl!” Dan says, and gives her hair a ruffle like he did mine, and Rosie giggles. The park is busy when we arrive, with about twenty other people playing there, their minders sitting on benches at the side, chatting or watching. Most are older than me and Rosie, or about the same age, but almost all of them are dressed in the same infantile clothing. Some wear overalls or dungarees like us. One girl, who looks a little older than us, whizzes down the slide in a big fluffy tutu. Others wear only a t-shirt and nappy as they waddle around. Above us, clouds hover fluffy and white against a deep blue sky, stripes of shade and light move across the park as the clouds move ahead of the sun. There is a nice, cool breeze in the warm summer air. Me and Rosie look at eachother and grin, and almost escape our caretakers, before we’re both grabbed at the arm by Daddy. “Now, now,” Daddy says, spinning me back around. “Make sure you two behave yourselves.” he adjusts my clothing a little, and I can tell he’s giving me a quick nappy check. “Daaadddyyyy.” I protest, but he pulls my dungarees in place and makes sure they are fastened correctly, and finishes with a warm smile. “Boop.” he says, tapping my nose, and I can’t stop myself giggling. “There we are my love, ready to go play.” He gives my padded bottom a playful pat, and I’m off like a rocket. Me and Rosie spend the next hour in our own world. She spins me as fast as the roundabout goes, and I cling on to dear life as she runs beside it. After what feels like forever, I jump off and the world tumbles quickly around me. I reckon I must have peed a little more because when I fall all dizzily to the ground, I feel a squish. However, while my padded bottom survives, my unprotected hand scrapes across the ground. “Owie!” I say, tears building in my eyes, but Rosie knows what to do. She kisses my hand where the boo-boo is, and says: “That’s what my daddy does when I’m hurt, and he says it makes it all better.” And although it still hurts a little, it feels a little better now. We go to the slide, and I play a monster chasing Rosie up and down, and up and down. And then we switch roles, and she chases me, and I push myself down the slide to escape her. “Rawr!” she says with her arms in the air. “Ahhhh!” I half-scream-half-giggle madly. Our daddies talk idly as they push us on the swings. The bucket-swing is designed almost like a high-chair, and the seat comes up between my legs and around my waist as I’m lowered into it. My legs are spread apart, and my nappy is soft beneath me. I see the rush of ground beneath me, feel my stomach backflip as I fall back down toward Daddy and he pushes me back up. I look beside me, and Rosie is a blur of giggles. I look to the sky and feel like I’m flying as I almost reach the clouds, so high up, my feet dangling in the air. I feel so big, and so little. I feel so excited and completely at peace. I feel as if I am a part of the world, and have no power to stop whatever happens next, but I don’t mind. Daddy will be there to catch me if I fall. Eventually, as the park begins to empty, we make our way over to the sandbox. “Daddy,” I ask as he bends down to sit on the bench, “Can I have my car now?” Daddy gives a knowing look to Dan, who smiles back, as if they speak some silent language that I have no hope of understanding. “Well.” Daddy says, as he reaches into my bag, “Since you’ve been such a good boy today Alex, I suppose you can have it… Do you want to bring one over to Rosie as well?” I nod, and he pulls out two small plastic cars, red and blue. I take both and flop down into the sandbox, sending sand around me like dust. I ask Rosie which one she wants, and she takes a moment to decide. “Ummmm, the blue one!” she says eventually. We crawl about in the sandbox for what seems like hours. I feel the sand between my fingers as me and Rosie race our cars around the edge of the massive pit of sand. Some bright buckets and spades have been abandoned by many generations of visitors, and we use them to make sandcastles. “Here!” Rosie says, “I’ll hold the bucket while you put sand in.” She kneels beside the bucket and I nod, enthusiastically grabbing a spade and shovelling in sand. As we dig, Rosie’s gaze wanders over to her daddy. “Do you think they like eachother?” she asks. “Ummm, I think so.” I say, taking a break from digging to look over. They’re talking, laughing, their hands close to one another’s, so close to touching. “I think they both like each-other, but grown-ups don’t say what they want, they just pretend the other person can read their mind.” “Yeah.” Rosie agrees. “Grown-ups are silly. I really like being here with you Alex.” she smiles. I blush a little despite myself, and grin back. “Me too Rosie, I could do this forever and ever!” We go back to making our castles, and decide to make a wall and split the sandbox in half. One at a time, we fill up a bucket with sand, heave it over to the middle of the sandbox, and dump it in the centre. About half-way through, as Rosie squats down to pat on a bucket with her spade, she goes still. I see her face grow focused and turn red, and she grunts a little. After a little toot, I see the seat of her skirt grow ever-so-slightly. A final sigh reveals what she has done, and she falls back onto her bottom, and into the sand, as if nothing had happened at all. Almost in response, my own stomach cramps, but I ignore it. Why worry about something as silly as that? As I come over, she is patting on her bucket, whilst wriggling a little, a silly smile on her face. I toddle over in my soggy nappy, and flop down next to her. The smell hits my nose almost immediately, confirmation of the fresh mess Rosie has made, and I give her a knowing smile, trying not to laugh. “Hey, don’t be such a stinkybuttface!” she pouts and crosses her arms. “I’m not a stinkybuttface!” I protest, “You’re the one that’s just made a messy!” I can’t hold back a giggle, and neither can Rosie. We both fall into a fit of laughter as Little Miss Smelly and I return to our castle wall. Rosie and I shift sand, and fill buckets, and by the end of it, we’ve split the sandpit in half. I’m on one side, and she is on the other. But we’re not done yet. “Ready?” I ask as I stand ready. “Ready!” she says, and we both count down from three. “3, 2, 1!” we both say together, and jump as high as we can into the air, destroying the sandcastles as quick as we can. We jump from castle to castle, racing eachother to each end of the sandbox. But I don’t quite make it to the end. Suddenly, another cramp hits my stomach and I’m forced to stop and bend over, and fall into a squat. I know what’s about to come, and for a moment, I consider shouting for daddy. But, I know what he’d say: “Just use your nappy, that’s what it’s for.” So, I do just that. Without any more silly adult thoughts, I begin to push. I squeeze out a few farts before the main event. My poopie slowly moves out of me, I feel the end of it like a tail as it pushes against the back of my nappy. I push some more, grunting as the mess slowly fills my padded bottom, dropping into my seat. Quickly my nappy grows heavy. I pee a little too, the front of my nappy grows warm as it soaks up my wee, spreading across the front pleasantly. I look over to daddy, he’s talking in whispers with Dan, their faces close and smiling. But I haven’t quite finished going poopie. I glance over to daddy again, hoping he hasn’t seen me. Unfortunately, he has. I blush, and look away, determined to avoid his gaze as I finish my mess. I glance up again, and Daddy and Dan are on their way over, and I notice they’re holding hands. Daddy smiles broadly as he approaches. “Hey there stinkybutt, are you making a messy?” he says almost nonchalantly. “Nnnn,” I groan, “Noooo...” “Alex, what did we say about potty honesty?” He shoots me a look. I pause. “Are you making a poopie?” he repeats. Bashfully, I nod. “Have you finished?” “I … almost Daddy, nnnnn.” I push again and feel another little load drop into the seat of my dungarees. With a final toot, I say, “Ahhhh, I think I’m finished now.” “Good boy for being honest about making messies!” he ruffles my hair like Dan does, and I fall backwards onto a sandcastle, the sand squishing beneath with my fresh load. “Oh, I think we have another smelly bum over here!” Dan says, giving Rosie’s rear a sniff for confirmation. “Daaaaddddyyyyy…” Rosie blushes deep red, but I know she’s just as proud of her mess as I am of mine. “I think,” Daddy says, “It’s time for changies. Come on, let’s go back to the car.” “Awwwww.” Me and Rosie both deflate. We were having so much fun and now it looks like we’re going home. Even though I want more than anything to keep playing, it had been a long day. Even Daddy’s mention of the car makes me yawn deeply. “Come on.” Daddy says, patting me and Rosie on our mushy tooshies, “Let’s get you two stinky butts in some clean pants.” Me and Rosie hold hands, and hold our Daddies’ hands on either side, forming a chain as we make our way back to the car. Me and Rosie play about a little, dragging our heels, or jumping about, desperate to extend the day just a little bit more. But we arrive at the car all too quickly and suddenly the day has come to an end. “Lay down on the seat here.” Daddy instructs me, and Dan tells Rosie to do the same in their car, opposite. I lay down on a mat he’s spread out, and stare up at the fabric ceiling of the car, as Daddy unties my shoes, unzips my dungarees and takes them off, and exposes my dirty nappy to the world. From his bag, he pulls out wipes and a spare nappy. “Poooweee,” he says, and leans close. With a sly grin, he whispers in my ear, “Someone’s a stinky little boy.” And with that, he begins. Quickly, he tears off the tapes of my thoroughly used padding. He opens it up, revealing my messy bottom to everyone who would walk by. He takes out a wet-wipe, two, and I feel it’s cold touch against my skin for the second time today, as he wipes me down. Eventually, the dirty wipes are piled into my equally dirty nappy. “Bottom’s up.” he says and I raise myself off the mat so he can slide the nappy off and roll it up. In the car opposite, I see Dan finish cleaning Rosie, and he pulls her skirt down to cover her clean nappy. She hops out and watches as my change comes to an end. I see her smile through the gap, mirrored by Dan who stands with his hands on her shoulders. They watch me tenderly, and I feel suddenly sad, not knowing when I’ll see them again. Daddy sees me watching them. “You’ve been a very good boy today.” he says quietly, “And Rosie’s been a very good little girl.” he pauses. I frown as he slides a clean nappy under me, curious as to what he’ll say next. “Did you see me and Dan talking earlier?” he says eventually. “Yes Daddy. You were holding hands.” I smile, he blushes and looks away, and I smile even more, suspecting what they had been talking about. “Well, we were thinking … how would you like it if they came round for dinner? Tonight.” A broad grin creeps across my face. Almost without hesitation I nod excitedly, “Yes, yes!” “Haha, good!” Daddy does the last of the tapes on my nappy, tightening them up so my fresh padding is firm around my waist. He gives the front a pat. We all bundle into our respective cars, I am strapped back into my car seat, and I see Rosie shoot me one last glance from beyond her car’s window. She gets to sit in the front, next to Dan. Within moments, her car slides past ours, and drives away, and we follow. Sunlight sparkles through the trees alongside the road, and Daddy hums some tune I don’t know. I don’t really listen, and his humming becomes another noise in the car, but a noise of comfort, and safety, and love. I only suckle on my dummy, and lay quiet and still and thoughtful, as the car shakes beneath me. As I lay snuggly strapped into my car seat, I imagine tonight, and all the time with Rosie and Dan yet to come. I imagine Daddy and his smiling eyes. And I am truly, utterly, happy. THE END.

As someone who is a little nervous about moving out for the first time since uni, this is exactly the story I needed to get me motivated and excited about making new friends. Thanks for being a light in the storm!

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND EPISODE 1 LEAVING THE LITTLE VAULT War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, lies Vault 86. The people of Vault 86 have lived peaceful lives for over ninety years. Most do not know what it’s like in the outside world–that outside the vault, they don’t sleep in cribs, that they aren’t able to play all day long without worry, and that they don’t even wear diapers. Armed with fresh padding, a dino pacifier, and the collected knowledge of his vault, Joe Palmer has been chosen to lead the first expedition outside in nearly one hundred years. But what will he find? *** “You’ve got your paci?” Mom asked, I pulled out my pacifier, tied on a lanyard around my neck. She nodded. “And you’ve packed spare diapers?” She checked my bag again, going through its contents one by one. “You don’t know if there’ll be any on the outside.” “I know mom!” I said, “And yes, I’ve packed spares.” I shrugged her off me–everyone was watching from behind. “Okay. I only ask because I love you, kiddo.” she smiled sweetly. “Already going out… ah. You’ve grown up so fast. Only twenty years ago you were this high!” she said, gesturing just below her knee. “Now look at you!” she leapt on me with a tight hug. “Moooom, you’re embarrassing me!” Even though she was squeezing me so hard I thought I would pass out, I accepted the hug, not knowing if I would see her again. Just before she broke away, I felt her tense up. She grunted a little, then sighed and went limp. The smell of her dirty diaper hit my nose almost immediately. As gross as it was, it didn’t bother me so much. It was the smell of home after all, a home I was about to leave for the first time. “We’re all so proud!” she gave one last, wan smile, then made her way back to the gathered group, waddling around in her freshly-filled padding. Overseer Carmichael nodded. “You’re doing a fine thing, son.” he said, and he gave me a brisk pat on the shoulder. “You get an idea of your surroundings, then come straight back here. Be gone no more than three days, understand?” “I do Overseer.” I gave a determined nod. “Good lad. We’ll have a good ol’ play party waiting for you when you get back.” he winked, and I gave him a smile. “You ready?” I looked around the room one last time. Two dozen or so people had gathered here, out of the three-hundred people who inhabited the vault. All these people had come to see me leave, I nodded to each of them. I was so nervous, my hands were sweaty and I swear I was already beginning to leak a little into my diaper. At least I would have that comfort, that reminder of the vault. “I’m ready.” I nodded to Overseer Carmicheal. The Overseer nodded slowly back, and moved up to the console, ready to open the inner doors. Everyone took a step back, I heard them draw in breath. I touched all of my equipment again, to make sure it was there–my supply bag (with food, spare diapers, and Mister Fancypants the teddy bear, of course), my holstered gun, and my pip-boy. “Joseph Olsen Palmer, we wish you good luck, and safe travels.” The Overseer pressed a button on the console, and an arm swung around to grasp at the inner door. It slid open smoothly, and spun out of the way. I took in a deep breath, refusing to look back at what I was leaving behind, and made for the outer door. The inner door locked behind me with a loud clang, and I was alone. I knew that the people of vault 86, the people I most cared about, were just behind the door, but that didn’t stop my nerves. This was it, the last chance I had to turn back, I almost went for it, went to knock on the door and call it in already. But then I saw everyone’s faces again, and the hope they had for me. So I remained alone in the darkness. Despite it all, I felt the bulk of my diaper keeping me safe under my onesie. Resolutely, I took my green dinosaur pacifier, and stuck it in my mouth. Feeling much better about my chances now that I had Tommy the T-Rex on my side, I stepped up to the outer door. It was angled slightly, tilted towards the floor like a massive hatch. I knew that when it opened, the first thing I would see would be the endless sky, just like the one painted above my crib. But so much more real. The outer door opened with much less grace than the inner one had. The machinery squealed and groaned, as if the vault itself was in pain. How long had it been shut? Nearly a hundred years? Three generations of people had never seen the outside world. My own grandpa had told me stories of when he was little, before the bombs. He’d said that people ‘potty-trained’ back then, and only wore diapers when they were little. He told me how angry he had been when they told him he’d had to start using diapers again, but after everyone began using them, he came around to the idea. Eighty years later, and diapers were the norm. It was terrifying, how quickly things could change. Vault 86 was a place to relax, and let all your worries–potty training included–disappear. Soon I would have to change my own diapers, sleep outside of a crib, and find my own food. My nerves rose suddenly, and I tried not to panic. Why was I leaving it all behind? Why did things have to change? The door inched open, and I recoiled. A golden ray of light shone through the small gap, brighter and warmer than I had ever experienced before. The sun. My panic transformed into excitement. This is why I was going out–to finally see what was outside, after all this time. The door opened completely, leaving a light cloud of dust in its wake. With a broad smile, and a mostly clean diaper, I stepped into the outside world. *** The massive door, with Vault 86 written big on the front, slowly rolled back into place, and I checked my Pip-boy–the slow clicking counter meant radiation levels matched our initial scan. So that was good. I looked around. Ahead of me was a wide, open concrete plain, dotted with the broken ruins of old buildings, and beyond that, the hills. Apparently this place was an airport, once used by soldiers, though I didn’t see any airplanes like the toy ones we had in the vault. My Pip-boy had been loaded with old maps of a town called Blackstone, in what used to be Virginia. My job was simple–match the maps to the world outside. “Oh! This is going to be so fun!” I wiggled about, unable to keep my excitement hidden away. I decided my first job was to update the area right outside the vault, so I waddle-marched all around it, and got some measurements, and made sure that the maps were up-to-date. After about an hour, just as I was coming to the end of my first survey, I realized that without thinking, I was weeing. My diaper had done a good job of soaking the accident (thank goodness) but I stopped as soon as I realized I was going. I didn’t have many diapers out here, and they would need to be rationed, so that meant holding it in as long as possible. I sighed, left with no choice but to endure the uncomfortable feeling of needing to pee pee. At least my diaper was nice and squishy now. I gave the front a poke, and giggled at the way it moved about. “Right then,” I said, taking out my checklist, “Item number twosies! Check for human activity.” The airbase was big, so big that I could barely see Vault 86 in the distance by the time I reached the edge. It was so quiet out here, I was sure that if other humans were around I would have heard some by now. Suddenly feeling very lonely, I decided it would be best if Mister Fancypants joined me out of my bag, and took him to cuddle while I continued doing a lap around the airbase. His legs dangled beneath him, whenever I got nervous I squeezed his fuzzy fur. Mister Fancypants had been with me nearly my entire life, and had insisted on bringing him with me. It wasn’t long before I came across a small group of houses on the edge of the airbase. The need to pee grew with every minute I was walking, but I knew if I could just hold on a little longer, I could save diapers for the rest of the trip. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to changing myself all the way out here. I’d practiced a lot but I still wasn’t very good. I didn’t manage to hold it very long. Before I had completed another, wider circle around the airbase, I had to stop in a little forested area. I wriggled my legs, and squeezed them together as tightly as I could, but I struggled to push them all the way. My puffy diaper prevented me from pressing them together, and stopped me from holding myself to stop the wee, though I gave it my best shot at pushing into the padding. Before long, I was jumping from foot-to-foot doing a little potty dance. It was very rare that we had to hold our bladders in the vault, normally we just went whenever nature called, and got changed later, after all that’s what diapers were for. Unfortunately, that meant I struggled desperately with the weight of pee in my tummy, and felt a little leak into my diaper without warning. I hugged Mister Fancypants tighter, and tried my best to hold it in, but my best wasn’t enough. “N-nooooo!” Suddenly, the dam burst open, and immediately my diaper grew warm. It spread up the front of my padding, and across my bottom at the back, and made everything soft and squishy. “Aahhhh!” I gave an almighty sigh, and felt myself sag, my legs no longer tense with holding back my accident. The padding around my waist swelled and spread my legs apart even wider, until eventually my stream stopped. “Nnnnn. That felt goooood.” I said with a silly smile across my face. The now pleasantly warm diaper squished when I poked at it, now almost completely saturated. “Wow. I really had to go, didn’t I, Mister Fancypants?” I looked down at my teddy, but he gave me a blank stare back. “No need to be so mean Mister Fancypants, I really couldn’t hold it anymore!” Mister Fancypants didn’t respond. Deciding to continue my survey, I let my soaking diaper sag beneath me as I walked. There was no point in changing yet, after all I still had work to do. Besides the fact that I may as well use my diaper as much as I could before a change, I kind of wanted to find somewhere a little more private, and safe. Despite my earlier confidence being out here in the wild was beginning to give me the willies. My survey ended with a small, surprisingly neat, house on the edge of the forest. I guessed that this was the way into Blackstone, based on my maps. It was beginning to get late, and after wetting my diaper another few times, I decided it might be best to make a little camp in the building. I also quickly realized I should also probably change myself before I got a rash, or worse, leaked. I didn’t want to ruin my onesie. The house looked like a standard pre-war house, the sort I had seen in pictures in the vault. The garden, once cared for, had been left to grow messy and patchy. The wooden fence had nearly rotted away completely, but there were very few weeds, and hardly any rubble, unlike the ones I had seen earlier. I had expected the place to be in worse condition inside, but apart from a small layer of dust and a few webs here and there, it looked almost completely untouched. I stood still for a moment, and sucked thoughtfully on Tommy the T-Rex. “Yes. Dis will do niwcely.” I said from behind my paci. I uncoiled my bed-roll to act as a changing mat. It wasn’t like the ones back home, but it would do. “I can do dis. I can do dis.” I repeated to myself. With a squish that sent the yellowed padding outward, I sat down on my diaper. Getting the old diaper off was the easy bit. I ripped open the tapes, and pulled it open, revealing the very yellow padding beneath. It was all swollen and heavy. I folded it into a weighty little package, and then into a plastic bag–it was important to dispose of the diaper ethically after all, and not just leave it on the ground, even if the world had been nuked to oblivion. Right. I steeled myself. Now that the easy bit was done, things got a little trickier. After wiping myself down with a damp washcloth, I carefully retrieved the clean padding and placed it beneath me. I’d seen the Mister Handy caretakers back in the vault do this a million times, how hard could it be? I powdered over my diapered area, then lifted the front up against my belly, and leant back a little so it would stay there. Then I went to fold the back up. But by the time I turned back around, the front had fallen down again. “Mmmfff! Why is this so hard?” I tried again, but this time, focused on one side at a time. This worked much better, and I was able to stick the left side together with a single, loose tape. However, before I could continue, I heard a loud clang. My heart leaped in my chest, my hairs stood on end. I looked around the empty room, but there was no one there. Just the silence. Quickly, I went to tape up the rest of my fresh diaper. But before I could finish, I heard a familiar voice. “Get out of here, you burglar scum!” The voice called from another room. I shot up, my diaper still half-undone. “Sorry, I didn’t know this place was … well I thought everyone was dead.” “Are you trying to tell me you killed everyone? Good lord!” The voice said, growing closer. It mingled in with a gentle whirring, almost as if… “No I–” I went to protest, but just as the voice rounded the corner, I realized why it was so familiar. “A Mister Handy unit!” It must have been the one keeping the house clean. But something was wrong. The Mister Handy came through the door, from the darkness on the other-side. It’s voice was more crackly than the ones from 86, and one of its eyes was… well it wasn’t there at all. I backed up slowly. “Sowwy! I can leave ifu want?” I said, but the Mister Handy did not reply. It stopped for a moment, and moved its eye up and down, as if it was scanning me. “I-I-I-Intruders will not be t-t-tolerated!” It said, crackling. Suddenly, one of its arms arose with an attachment I’d never seen before–a buzzsaw. It whirred into motion, spinning sharp and deadly, and rushed toward me. “No!” I shouted, my paci fell out of my mouth, and not knowing what else to do I grabbed my gun. But I was too slow, before I could completely draw it, the Mister Handy’s buzzsaw launched at me. I moved out the way just in time, and the saw buried itself in the wall behind me. My gun fell to the floor. I reached for it, but the buzzsaw swooped in and I fell backwards with a crash. The Mister handy rotated, its eye focusing on me like the aperture of a camera. But when the robot tried to rush at me again, it found itself stuck for a moment, before lurching free. That gave me an idea. Quickly, carefully, I aligned myself with a light switch to my back. “Come on!” I shouted, which seemed to enrage the robot. “Intruders will not be tolerated!” Despite the strange nonchalance of its voice, it rushed at me again. I dove out the way, onto the carpet, and the Mister Handy shot straight into the wall. Its metal buzzsaw made contact with the light switch, and the wires inside. Electricity ran through it, arching and sputtering. The lights flickered on for the first time in decades, then sparked off again. I took the distraction to crawl madly for my gun. But I didn’t need it. The Mister Handy recoiled, its head spun wildly. “I-I-I-Intru-d-d-d-W-welcome home s-s-s-sir! I have ma-a-a-ade-t-traditional-carpet cleaner--s-shopping–the b-b-baby is asleep now–” and with a final garbled mess of words, its glowing eyes flickered off, and it went limp. I released a breath I forgot I was holding, and the silence returned again. *** Over the next hour, I dove into the Mister Handy’s wiring. Back in the vault, we hadn’t the resources to spare to send one with me, but if I could bring this one back, or even get it to help me out here… Thankfully, the robots were so important to our way of life in Vault 86, most people learn to take them apart and put them back together again before they turn eighteen. I was never the best at it, but I knew my way around them well enough. I decided to remove the buzzsaw attachment out of caution, and replaced it with a Rob-Co certified posable hand I found in the garage. Whilst I was at it, I renamed the unit Basil, after a pre-war TV-show they showed in the vaults. It was getting dark by the time I found the program settings, the sun was red in the sky, and golden in the treetops. The neon-green light of my pip-boy was all that lit me in the dark room. “Gardener, no. Shopkeeper, no. Driver, not that. Mmmmm, ahha–Babysitter.” I let the program run, and Basil suddenly burst into life again. Immediately, I backed up and held my gun at his eye. The robot rose quickly, and spun about itself. “Re-re-rebooting…” It stuttered, and went quiet. I worried that I had messed up the program for a moment, and quickly put my paci in my mouth for reassurance. Then, “Can I be of service, master?” The robot hovered, clearly waiting for instruction. I frowned. “What mode is cuwwently activated?” I asked through my pacifier. “Babysitter mode is activated, master. Where is said baby in need of sitting?” “Oh, I … right here.” I gestured to all of me. “Oh dear! Well we can’t have you in that state, can we master?” The Mister Handy moved towards me, and I flinched despite myself. “No…? What are you doing?” I asked nervously. “Why, changing your diaper of course, look at the state it’s in! I do say… wheoever put it on you needs a right bloody scolding” At Basil’s words, I looked down. With everything that had happened, I had forgotten to put the diaper on properly, and it still hung lopsided off me. I realized, too, that it had been a while since I last changed it, and I felt a familiar sensation below… “Hang on …” the robot paused, “What do good boys say?” “Pweese? Pweese would you change my diapee? And, could you pweese hurry? I fink I need to pee again.” “Of course!” The robot said, “And what a good little boy you are for remembering your manners!” Basil’s hand patted me on the head and I giggled. It was almost like being back in the vault. With some proper repairs, this unit could be good-as-new. I laid back down and clutched Mister Fancypants in my arms as the robot inspected my bare butt. Basil was much better at changing my diaper than I had been. For the most part, I just lay there and stared at the ceiling, sucking on my T-Rex paci as Basil cleaned me up. It felt good to be properly padded again, with the familiar bulk pushing my legs apart. Basil was a fast changer too, which was good, because I was growing desperate. Almost as soon as he had finished fastening the tapes, I let out a sigh, and felt my diaper expand as I wet it again. “My, my. Wet already! Do you need me to change you again, Master?” “No, I should be fine until the morning. Fankoo!” I slept surprisingly well that night. In fact, I slept almost like a baby. Maybe it was because I was so exhausted from the day, or maybe it was because I knew I had Basil and Mister Fancypants watching over me. Either way, I woke up early the next morning, ready to take on the day’s challenge–going further afield. Basil changed me out of a thoroughly soaked diaper, and together we made our way out. With a fresh diaper, Mister Fancypants, and Basil by my side, things were looking up. Perhaps, finally, I would be able to see what remained of the world, after all this time… END OF CHAPTER 1

Law of the Diaper - Episode 2 - Part 1 Meliora Lady Meliora Van De Natte sighed heavily as she relieved herself, urine spiralling down her leg and onto the clay-tiled floor of the hall. She sat at a long table, with many other guests in attendance, including her distant cousin, the King, himself. The floor was sloped in a way that allowed people’s pee to flow into the middle, where they were promptly drained away. Despite this, the floor was still wet, and reflected the gold trim of the high-beamed roof. The chamber was grand, regal, and -- to Meliora at least -- a little over-pompous. And to consider, she thought, that those babies in the north believe us to be barbaric. Meliora didn’t much like the haughty nature of the court, but barbarity? Ha! She scoffed at the very thought of it. The King was in the middle of another one of his showy-speeches, “...for many a year now. To think! Back then we were but insects on the world stage…” and Meliora was getting tired of it. As much as she detested these things however, they were necessary to keep the king satisfied, especially as she needed to talk to him with great urgency. But, the King was in the middle of making himself look good, so she decided to concentrate on her food, it was the only good thing about these feasts anyway. Sitting cosily on her silver platter, was a selection of smoked vegetables, steaming roast potatoes, and slices of Stalle, fried to perfection. Many years ago, so the holy texts said, when humans and non-humans were at war over food, the god Liefyr gifted the peoples of the world the plant Stalle, so they would cease eating eachother. Apparently it had worked, because sat around the table with her, where many a non-human. Not that anyone had ever put much thought into it. The days where tension grew high between species was long gone, relegated to the history books of old. At least here in the south. Court and country were a civilised place now, happy and harmonious. Well, country was, court perhaps not so much. Despite the relative peace in the presence of the king, tensions between individuals still ran high, especially behind his back. Opposite Meliora was Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf with a particularly sly canine-gaze. Like Meliora, he sat stoically, determined not to give anything away to his political enemies. Enemies like Meliora. Just look at him, she thought with a juvenile air of competitiveness, thinking he can beat me at my own game. She broke her stoicism, and her meal, for a brief glare at Aert, but before the wolf could return it, the King concluded his speech. “Thank you! Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience.” the King waved magnanimously. He was kind, and often cared for the people of Plassenar, but unfortunately that came at the cost of any real power. Even now, one Kanniss Blomscheet, a wealthy sugar-merchant who’d been invited, was whispering in the king’s ear. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner however, and she to no one else. Her neighbor, Lady Halene Goudenel, was chatting idly to the man next to her, a lord which Meliora didn’t know. Meliora continued eating, ignoring the two chattering, but halfway through their conversation, Lady Halene lifted her furry rear upwards slightly, and farted noisily. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, “I shall have to go to the mess-hall after this!” Halene waved her hand in front of her nose, looking around. Meliora hoped that the woman wouldn’t notice her, but alas, it was not to be. “Lady Van De Natte! I didn’t see you there!” she said, her talking companion going pale upon seeing who Halene was attempting to talk to. Halfway through a bite of food, Meliora made an attempt at saying ‘hello.’ It came out as more of a stuffed mumble. “Hello to you too! Wonderfully diverse platter today, wouldn’t you say?” Halene continued, determined to push through the awkwardness. She twirled her hair around one of her antlers aimlessly, waiting for a response. Meliora eventually gave in, swallowing her food indelicately. “Yes, I suppose so.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Halene took that as cause to persevere, because just as Meliora was about to resume her meal, the woman conversed again. “I take it you wish to see His Majesty after we have concluded.” It was a statement, not a question. For some reason Meliora felt a child crawl through her. Suddenly she was on edge, and she felt another trickle of warm urine down her bare leg. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner. No one. Did she want something? Meliora realised that she had been quiet too long. “Yes, my Lady. I do. Is there something you wish to ask?” “Oh, no. Actually, I was hoping to speak to you afterwards. However, I understand that you’re busy.” Halene said. Meliora wasn’t sure how to respond. She rarely spoke to Lady Goudenel, her being on the High Council for only a few months. Meliora hadn’t gotten a good read on the woman yet, she was still somewhat of an enigma, and that scared her. It was a strange feeling -- Meliora couldn’t remember the last time she had been scared. Should she accept? This would be a good opportunity to understand the woman a little better. Maybe Meliora would gain some information on one of the other council members. It was a tempting prospect. “Unfortunately not tonight,” Meliora said eventually, “but --” “It isn’t at all urgent,” interrupted Halene, waving her arm toward the table. “When are you next available?” “It may not be for some time. If all goes well I aim to be out of the country for a week or two.” “Well, that just happens to be the subject I wished to bring up.” Halene asked with the dimmest flicker of a smile. Despite herself, Meliora smiled back. “I should have room for tomorrow afternoon, if that will suffice.” “Wonderful!” the woman said with an excited nod, complimented with a wide grin, “I look forward too--” Ffffttttt. The odorus noise spilled out from her seat. “Oh dear. This food really has got the better of me. I do hope this all finishes soon, or I may have to relieve myself here!” Halene giggled at her little joke, and returned to her dinner leaving Meliora to ponder what she had gotten herself into. By the time everyone had finished, the King was ready to retire. He bowed, waved his hand, and excused guests, some of which tried to hound him. Meliora would have to get in quick. Thankfully, some of the people going after His Majesty, were some of her own. Magist Gaerdt and his young apprentice, a feline girl in her twenties, were trying to push past the guards. Knowing that they’d never get past, they were instead preventing the King from leaving quickly enough so that Meliora could catch a word. Fortunately, Meliora was very much respected by the guards, and they let her pass with no small amount of reverence. She had to admit, she liked the effect it had -- as if the oceans were parting for her. It made her feel strong and powerful. “Your Majesty, if I could only-” Gaerdt croaked, before Meliora glided past. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing gracefully. She wouldn’t have much time to convince him, only a sentence or two. This would have to be done carefully. “May I have a word? It is of the utmost importance.” The King stopped in his tracks, lowering his head respectfully. “Lady Meliora, I’m sure you have much to say, but can this wait? It is late and I-” “Well …” Meliora countered, “I was going to ask about next week’s summit. I would very much like to ask you some questions, run some ideas past you. After all, most of the men here are on the wizened side of wise. You have a much more contemporary view of politics.” Long ago, Meliora realised that to survive court politics, you had to be brutal. You had to systematically hunt down your enemy’s weaknesses, and exploit them ruthlessly. The King liked clever words, or at least words that sounded clever to him, and a little stroke of his ego wouldn’t hurt either. Merchants were good at that, hence their power in his court. Luckily so was Meliora. Clearly it had worked, because the King seemed to be considering her proposition. “Oh, all right. But we shall have to talk in the mess-room, I’m getting rather desperate.” The King finally conceded. “Gaerdt,” said Meliora, turning to her Magist, “Please wait for me in my quarters, we have much to discuss afterwards.” “Yes, Lady.” he replied, and he and his apprentice bowed. “Come Narriss, we still have to find that book.” and with that, the aging man hobbled away, the young feline apprentice helping. Meliora and the King were escorted to the mess room, the King dribbling pee behind him as he walked. Usually, due to the sterile nature of urine, one could relieve themselves wherever they wished. Excrement, however, was not so sanitary. Peasants usually messed themselves as they toiled, using it as fertiliser for their fields. Here in the city however, designated mess-halls, or in the King’s case a private mess-room, was where people went number two. The room was somewhat large, big enough for multiple people. At the far end were two windows and a small balcony, bordered by the Plassen flags -- brown fabric, with white and golden waves. The King often held meetings here, so there was seating, golden chairs with silk cushions. The floor was the same clay tiles of the dining hall, each bearing the royal standard. Meliora made a move towards a chair opposite the King, who upon entering immediately pulled his pants down, starting to fidget. Meliora herself was wearing a dress, much preferred when desperate. Watching as the King leant over his seat, pushing, Meliora thought of what she was going to say, how she would approach this. It was important, and the King needed to understand what was at stake here. “Gggggrrrrrggg” he groaned, pushing out two long logs of poop. They snaked out of him, and coiled around each other neatly onto the stained cushion below. What am I going to say? What would convince a man to go to war? “Ahhhhhh …” sighed the King in relief, a few loose farts escaping. He sat back down on top of his mess, pushing it into the cushions with an audible squelch. Then, just as Meliora got an idea of how to approach the topic, he wriggled his bottom, pushing the poop around. Prince or peasant, it didn’t matter -- squishing was one of the few feelings that everyone enjoyed, Meliora included. A spike of envy even shot through her momentarily, annoyed that she didn’t have to relieve herself, but she quickly regained focus. “Right then, Lady Meliora. What do you want to know?” “Well Your Majesty, first and foremost, do you have any ideas about approaching the treaty?” she asked. The King looked slightly taken aback at that, and Meliora had to force her face to keep straight. “Whatever do you mean, Lady? I was under the impression that they had already agreed to sign it?” “Well yes, they did imply that.” Meliora said, steering the King into the position she wanted. “But we know the North cannot be trusted with matters as serious as this. They are frivolous and fickle, thinking only about their play and not their work. You don’t really expect them to be that consistent do you?” Meliora didn’t really lie. It was cause for concern. These northerners knew nothing of hard work and labor, many lived in luxury, playing all day. “I had assumed--” “With the utmost respect your Majesty, that is exactly it. You assumed.” “You didn’t come here to ask me for help did you?” He looked like a child being told off. Perhaps he was ashamed that he had been so naive. Meliora almost felt bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand. Meliora respected the man’s kindness too much to lie about something like this. “My King, if I may speak frankly?” she waited for him to nod his head, and then continued, “I don’t believe any good can come of this summit. The people of Luin … they’re not like us. They won’t sign this treaty, there’s too much that they gain from war.” “What could they possibly gain from war?” the King asked, leaning forward. “Weapons sales, unity through common enemy, certainty in a changing world.” Meliora sighed, it was a harsh truth that war was so simple. Contracts, treaties, negotiations, why bother when you could just engage in conflict? There was a deep silence between the two. The King had his face in his hands, thinking. Meliora had to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. The King only wished his people had the same luxury that the Luiners had -- he could be a great King, truly great, if tempered by the ruthlessness of his aides. Why was it so hard to watch this man accept that war was inevitable. Was she as ruthless as she thought? “Meliora,” the King said suddenly, raising his head from his hands, “I hear what you are saying. I really do. You don’t trust Luin, and you want to strike before they have the chance to lure us into a false sense of security.” “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, that is precisely it--” but before she could continue the King interrupted. “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a prince, my father took me to the front line. The regalia and glory of war was appealing to a child, and I went with glee. But when I arrived it was nothing like I thought. The place stank of death, of decay. There were bodies lined up in the streets of camp, sometimes in piles. It -- I still have nightmares. But I had never thought more clearly than in that moment. I bent down to one of the bodies, and …” the King stopped. He seemed distant, as if scared to go back there, to that place. Meliora hadn’t seen him like this before. “... And I bent down to say my prayers to one of the fallen. It was a boy, Meliora. A boy of twelve years old! I can’t remember what caused his death, only that his face was death itself. His eyes were empty. His soul, gone. Imagine what was taken from the world. Imagine the potential that boy might’ve had. All gone in an instant.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes slowly coming back into the room. Meliora was transfixed, “Lady Van De Natte, the other side may be very different from us, but I can guarantee their children have died too. Lives on both sides have died for a war they didn’t start. If they have a shred of humanity, and suspect they have more than a shred, then believe me when I say, they want to end this war as much as you or I.” The King was looking at Meliora now, directly into her soul. His deep, brown eyes yearning for peace, yearning for an end to this petty conflict. The ripple of doubt in Meliora’s mind had transformed. Great waves of torment, battered by a storm of guilt and shame, crashed and bellowed within her. They twisted her stomach, tugged violently at her chest. Could she be ruthless? I have to be. She had to be ruthless for the good of the realm. There was a long, final pause before Meliora spoke. She sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?” Narriss Narriss hadn’t seen anything like it before. The port in which the ship was docking was packed full of people. They brushed past each other, all heading to one place or another, like an ant colony. Even the capital hadn’t been this busy, or if it ever had, Narriss had been busy working with master Gaerdt. The gentle slosh of the ocean lapping against the boat, had been replaced by shouting, chattering, and a loud constantly-ringing bell. But what shocked her the most was what people were wearing. Some, like her, wore tunics and pants, robes and cloaks. But some wore onesies, sucked pacifiers nonchalantly, and underneath it all were the unmistakable bulges of diapers. In spite of this, the air smelt familiar. Sea salt and urine mixed in the air across the harbor, floating across the ocean beyond. Narriss’ closed her eyes. The wind blew gently through her fur, her tail swayed gently behind her, and her ears relaxed by her sides. She inhaled deeply, taking in the atmosphere of the place, and a strange peace came over her. A gentle, laminar peace. “Narriss.” A sharp voice from behind her said. She turned quickly, seeing Master Gaerdt standing there. “Come, we have business with Lady Meliora.” Narriss nodded, and followed her teacher down into the ship’s cabins. They had been travelling here, to the Isle of Ieder, for three days now, and she was getting sick of being bunged up in a tiny cabin with Master Gaerdt. She had complained out loud initially, which had been a mistake. “It gives you plenty of time to focus on your studies instead of napping then.” Master Gaerdt had said, never glancing away from his work. Though she swore she could hear a smile in his voice. Lady Meliora’s chambers were nowhere near as cramped as everyone else’s. As they entered, Narriss saw the familiar sloped floor, with a tile pattern running from under Meliora’s desk. It was glistening wet. The tile pattern continued past the centre of the room and rose again like the edge of a bowl, stopping under a plush-fabric seat. Lady Meliora herself sat at an ornate desk, silhouetted a little by grand windows behind her. Why don’t we have any windows like that? Narriss asked herself as she stood behind her teacher. Meliora scribbled something on a piece of fresh paper, before glancing up to Narriss and Master Gaerdt. She gestured for them both to sit. “Master Gaerdt,” she said, nodding to Narriss’ left, “Apprentice Narriss,” she nodded to Narriss, “Thank you for attending me here.” That was odd. Meliora barely seemed to notice Narriss normally, let alone speak to her. This was all strange. Something was about to happen, Lady Melliora wanted something from Narriss, but what could she possibly offer? She was just an assistant, an apprentice. A flash of dread struck through her. The Lady looked uncomfortable sitting at her desk, almost fidgety. She was never normally like this at all. What was going on? Meliora cleared her throat before continuing where she left off. “As you are both aware, we have a very important mission here on Iedar. To go over our aim again, Master Gaerdt, we want to establish relations to aid the signing of the North-South Disarmament Treaty, as requested by …. nnng … the King.” Meliora looked wholly uncomfortable after she said that, jostling in her seat. It was well known to the servants of Meliora, Narriss included, that the woman thought the war was still a necessary fight. Narriss had to agree. Unlike here in the south, Luin and the Dullen Isles (especially the former) were hostile to her kind. Plassenar was fighting for freedom -- freedom to relieve yourself where you wanted without punishment, freedom to be chaotic, and freedom to be different. If that meant tearing down their broken culture to achieve this freedom, so be it. “Now that all the official stuff is out the way,” Meliora continued, “I need to ask you two a favor. This stays absolutely confidential, do you understand?” she looked directly at Narriss as she said it, and without hesitating, Narriss nodded back. She wasn’t sure she liked the Lady, but the woman’s cause was just. “I cannot … nnn … I cannot believe I’m about to say this --” Lady Meliora went quiet suddenly, and began to wriggle more noticeably. She slid her rear across the velvet cushion of her seat. Narriss looked to Master Gaerdt, who only blinked in surprise. Meliora put a hand between her legs, and suddenly Narriss realised what was happening. As if she needed any more confirmation, Meliora quickly gave up, and took her hand away, said “Oh, blast!” rather more audibly than Narriss suspected the lady intended, and leant back in her chair. Less than a second later, she sighed as urine gushed out from under the table, hissing through Lady Meliora’s dress. Even from the other side of the table, Narriss could see a dark patch spreading on her clothes, as familiar as the blue sky. “Mmmmmmmaahhhh!” Meliora’s shoulders lowered and despite her usually reserved demeanor, a tiny smile flickered onto her face as she peed. She quickly finished and, evidently self conscious all of a sudden, straightened her dress before plastering on a calmer expression that contrasted oddly with her now scarlet cheeks. Silence punctured the room, and Narriss couldn’t help but look to master Gaerdt. However, he patently ignored her, focused on the Lady. “My Lady! Were you … were you holding that in!?” he said, visibly shocked at what he’d just witnessed. As if in defiance of what had happened, Narriss’ master let his own water escape, flooding his robe. Small rivers of urine, from both Meliora and Gaerdt, flowed into the centre of the room and were swallowed by the drain leading to the wooden cistern below. Meliora grew softly stern, straightening in her seat. “Not a word to anyone else on this ship at what you just witnessed, is that understood?” As shocked as she was, Narriss was the first to nod. She was used to taking orders, from Meliora, from Gaerdt, from any of her many superiors. But somehow Meliora didn’t feel so high and mighty anymore. Something about what had just happened made the woman less imposing, less regal. It was like a cloud had blotted the sun. Everything was still in the same place, but a certain luster had vanished. Narriss noticed Meliora looking at her, and she snapped her face back to impassiveness. Did the Lady notice? Eventually, Gaerdt followed with his nod of submission to the Lady, but Meliora just sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry you two had to see that.” she said somewhat sullenly, “These people, the summit, they expect certain behaviors from us, just as we do them. The deal was that they would be prohibited from going over-the-top with their regalia just as we do ours, to avoid offence. Part of that is … we are to relieve ourselves away from their notice during the meetings. I was practicing, here, now, and clearly I could not handle it.” “What restrictions have been placed upon them, my Lady?” Gaerdt looked to Narriss, appalled that his apprentice was talking without permission, but she couldn’t help herself. All this had gotten her riled up. Why should Plassenar have to bend to the will of another nation, just to sign some stupid treaty? Why should Plassenar suffer? However, Lady Meliora didn’t seem to mind. “That is a good question, Apprentice. In exchange for us being subtle about our culture they have agreed to hold back on their pompous clothes, and ... let ambassadors from different species into the meeting.” Narriss’ head boiled with indignation. Under the table, away from the view of the Lady, she clenched her fists, hard. Her hairs pricked up in defense, and she felt her face grow taught, struggling not to grind her teeth. Meliora was going through all this trouble to appease these people, when they should just treat everyone as equals. More and more, Narriss was growing angry at this whole twisted situation. The king, our king, wants to make peace with them? Meliora seemed to sense her utter frustration at the situation, and leaned forward. “I understand that this is hard Narriss --” “I’m sorry but you don’t understand at all.” Narriss snapped, half thinking. Gaerdt’s bemused face melted into anger at his apprentices’ impulsivness. But Narriss didn’t care. She was angry, and had the right to be so. However, Master Gaerdt had been teaching her to control that anger, focus it. “Apologies, my Lady, I shouldn’t have said that.” Narriss expected Meliora to be annoyed just as her master was, but the woman was strangely resigned about the whole thing. “No, it’s fine,” Meliora said, waving it away, “You are right. I don’t understand. This is why I have chosen you for the task. I know I can trust you, you’ve been with master Gaerdt here as long as any of my other staff, and your rank means you are in a prime position to understand both court and country in a way my friends simply cannot. But, more than all that, you are one of the people that Luin is trying to restrict. Your eyes, in that regard, see differently to mine. I grew up in a castle, in a place of privilege and luxury. I need to see what you see if I am to win this meeting.” “I’m sorry my Lady,” Gaerdt said, “Win?” “Quite, magister Gaerdt. No one wants peace, so even a small concession towards that aim will be a victory. But we need to focus. We need to practice. We need to keep calm.” Meliora said with the slightest hint of flourish in her voice. She was right. This was all too important to let anger take it all away. That’s what they wanted. Narriss breathed in deeply, centering herself. The anger within her, that raging storm, spiralled in her chest. Slowly, carefully, she pushed upwards into her head. She drew power from it, cunning, and perception. Eventually, it was no longer anger, but a vague pool of energy. Narriss felt as if she could draw from it, take whatever she needed. Her stomach cramped slightly as she contemplated it, feeling something brewing within. But before she could put much thought into that, Meliora spoke up a final time. “What I need from you Narriss, desperately, is reconnaissance. I need as much information as I can get -- ideally what the very heart of their culture is. What I need is to see where they eat, change, and what they do when they’re not at these meetings. But even then I fear that I am still not prepared. I’ll be honest, I wish I could send Gaerdt but ... ” Lady Meliora looked down at the wet patch on her clothes. For the first time, Narriss saw fear on her mistress’ face. “This little demonstration shows our weakness. We need to hide it. We need to be discreet. Gods forbid it should come to this, but what I need is a diaper.” Narriss Waygar, the capital of Iedar, smelt of crap. Literal crap. This was a very strange place, chaotic and bewildering, far more so than even the capital city. Because it was a sort of neutral zone between Luin and Plassenar, both peoples went about their own rituals without regard for the other. Some, few, relieved themselves in the street, where they stood, not bothering to consider those around them. Just like home, Narris thought. But others wore gaudy clothes, onesies with bright patterns on them, frilly dresses, and sucked on pacifiers. They kept their business, and smells, hidden in the seat of their pants. Even here, closest to the Plassen crossing, these were in the vast majority. A group of Littles were huddled together just down the street ahead, one leaning against a stone wall. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other, one glancing over their shoulder. Narriss didn’t get a good look at their expression whilst she hurried past however. As she approached, a tall woman in normal clothes burst out of the wooden door next to them and ushered the group of littles indoors. Although she looked almost normal in that long green dress, Narriss could see the obvious bulge of a diaper underneath. The woman spun around to close the door, and a flicker of fear shadowed her face momentarily, before she fled inside. Narriss bowed her head to the ground, feeling her face boil, and her stomach growl. How was she supposed to actually find out about their culture if they did this? After wandering about for an hour or so, Narriss didn’t have much luck finding anyone who wanted to converse. It was difficult identifying any Plassener’s to talk to here. Besides being so very few of them, any she managed to approach seemed to scarper away, warily. She’d even tried going up to the guards, but they’d just growled and skulked away as well. This was all taking too long, the meeting was only in a couple of hours and she still had no information. ‘Plan B’ was the merchants. Not quite the everyday person that Narriss was hoping to find, but maybe it would work. Surely they wouldn’t pass down a customer? At the very least she could find somewhere to acquire a diaper. She’d been putting it off, though she didn’t quite know why. All this was so odd--the way the Luiners just waddled brazenly about in their baby-clothes, locked away under layers of padding. After a brief wander through the mud-laden alleys of the town, Narriss managed to find a small market selling a vast collection of things. One was selling books from an open-air stall nearby. Maybe he would be able to help. He was talking with someone else, a large woman with somewhat shaggy hair. She didn’t look much like a Little, so Narriss assumed she was a Big, the people who cared for the freaks that dressed up. As Narriss approached the stall, the woman glanced behind. Her conversation with the shopkeep died down to hushed whispers and, reflexifley, Narriss’ ears pricked up. Naturally, they were much stronger than human ears, and picked up the conversation without much hassle. “I hear they’re planning on invading, by migrating into Luin!” the woman said. The man simply nodded solemnly as if it was a sad truth to be accepted, like death or paying taxes. The man’s face scrunched up and he grunted quietly. At first Narriss assumed it was the topic of conversation that had caused such a reaction. But then she remembered the diapers. “Yeah, as if we don’t let them close enough already. That new deal’s supposed to make it easier for them to get in, y'know. I --” the man cut off as he caught Narriss’ eye. “No no, please keep talking!” Narriss said loudly. The large woman startled and clasped her chest with her hand. Narriss realised her face had gone tense. She tried to relax and calm herself but… “Speak demon and it shall appear.” the shopkeep said, glaring toward Narriss with the sadistically sly grin usually only seen in Wolf-kin. Then again, what did she expect from the people who invaded her home? “Demon?! Where?!” Narriss said, bathing in exaggerated, mock fear. This man would not get the best of her. He would give her all the information she needed, or at least point her in the right direction to find it. The woman glanced down at Narriss’ waist, made a disgusted face, and nodded goodbye to the shopkeep. Perhaps she’d noticed Narriss’ tail, or worse, her lack of diaper-bulge. Either way, she and the shopkeep were now alone. “It’s considered rude ‘round here to listen in on other people’s conversations y’know.” he said, almost growling with tension. Yet they consider us animals!? Narriss mused to herself. This place was horrible. Backwards. “It’s also rude to refuse paying customers.” she said to the shopkeep. Hopefully the promise of money would quell his anger somewhat. However, it seemed that she’d underestimated this man’s discontent. “I don’t want your grubby hands anywhere near me!” he said passionately, as if Plassener’s were known for being particularly dirty. Yet, they weren’t the ones who carried their waste against their backsides. Narriss raised her spotless hands in response. “My hands are clean as clouds,” she said, “And luckily for you I just need information. So I won’t be parting with any of my money today, sir.” The man eyed her for a moment. He seemed placated, if only slightly. “I don’t know ‘nuffin!” he said, crossing his arms. “Just go someplace else!” Narriss was starting to get annoyed now. This man was being deliberately stubborn, and for what? Maybe it was time for a retreat. If she couldn’t get the information she needed, at least she could get the diaper for Lady Meliora. “I just need to know where I can find a changing station.” there was a brief moment of silence. The shopkeeper's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised why he was asked such a question by the likes of … well, her. “Is that some kind of joke? Why in the name of Liefyr does a shaggy like you want to know that?” he shook his head in disbelief. Narriss’ ears went hot. She hadn’t been called that word in a very long time. This slimy son of a bitch was clearly too stuck in his little mud-hovel to say anything productive to her. She was done here. Letting out a deep breath, Narriss turned and walked away. She’d find the godsdamned place by herself. Behind, she heard the man chuckle quietly. Willing herself not to turn and punch him, Narriss focused on her mission. However, the shopkeep made the mistake of thinking he had gained something in that little argument, and shouted across the market. “Yeah! Go back to your shithole in Plassen you hairy bitch!” That does it. Narriss felt a storm surge inside of her, and a sudden cramp in her gut. If the bastard wanted to be closed minded, so be it. He deserved everything he was about to get. She walked back toward the merchant, who went suddenly pale. Clearly he was expecting her to walk away. Maybe she should have. Oh well, Narriss thought, hopefully he’ll remember this. “Fine. You win.” Narriss said calmly, which only served to unease the man further. “If you won’t take a moment out of your day to help me find somewhere, then I guess I have no choice but to do my business here.” and she hiked up her dress. The man looked horrified, and stepped back into the recesses of his book-stall-cave. Narriss simply smiled, and bent over the wooden counter of the stall, so her bare rear was nearly touching the wooden countertop. Her tail swished behind her, brushing against the cool air. Then, grunting a little, she began to push, slowly releasing pressure in her bowel. To her slight embarrassment, she farted a few times, but that was nothing compared to what was coming. As she pushed, she felt a rather large ball of poop force it’s way out of her, sliding through, pinching off, and then slapping down onto the counter. She let out a few more farts, feeling much better now that her gut was empty. Her mess balled beneath her, forming a rather satisfying warm, and stinking, pile. Narriss looked to the merchant again, grinning slyly. His face had gone red, and he looked as if he was leaning against the wall for support. Narriss glanced about quickly, and noticed that there was a small crowd watching the incident. Although most Little onlookers looked horrified, a small group to the left sniggered at the merchant. A huddle of Plasseners also gathered nearby, smirking to themselves. “Thank you very much for your help,” Narriss said as innocently as she could muster, “I was beginning to get a little desperate.” and as a final act of spite, she pulled her dress down, and fell back to sit in her mess. It squashed beneath her, moulding to the shape of her rear. She wriggled about for a moment, before pulling herself up with a very visible brown stain on the seat of her dress. After all, why shouldn’t she wear it proudly? She made her way into the crowd, toward some of the watching Plasseners. They grinned knowingly at her as she approached. Finally, people who seemed willing to talk. She’d finally find out what was up with this place, which would be a solid start. How she was going to find diapers for Lady Meliora from these Plassen folk she did not know, but one step at a time. There was a chance the Lady wouldn’t even need a diaper if she managed to get the right information. As she approached the Plasseners, their smiles faded however. Narriss noticed they were looking at something behind her. A cold human hand suddenly gripped her left arm tightly, pressing against the fur. “Miss,” a woman’s voice, hard and harsh, said from behind, “Please, come with us.” Narriss tried to turn without jerking her arm too much. The woman was a guard, wearing the white-red colours of Iedar, but Narriss could tell she was a little. The guard’s hair was tied in pig-tails, and she could swear the woman had a diaper-bulge. “No! You don’t understand! I have important business here, under the command of Lady Meliora Van De Natte, of Plassenar!” and she tugged her arm away, but the guard who was holding her back simply grappled the other one. “I’m sure you are Miss, but we can’t just let people go poo poo on private property!” Narriss went quiet. Maybe she should have thought this through more. Damn! “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you. Let’s just make this quick.” “You’re not going to run if I let you go?” the guard said, and Narriss felt her tail droop instinctively. She wasn’t sure she could if she tried. “There are guards everywhere,” Narriss said, “I doubt I would get very far.” This seemed to placate the guard and she let go. Two more joined her and the whole retinue marched Narriss away. About two hours later, judging by the church bells, Narriss sat in her small cell, alone. The guards had brought her back to a modest gaol on the outskirts of Waygar. Almost immediately upon arrival, the guards had insisted on diapering her. Her hairs pricked up harshly even thinking about it. Despite how wrong it felt to have this bulky padding around her waist, she’d gone along with it in the interest of saving as much time as possible. It wasn’t all that embarrassing really, not after having dropped a mess in public. But it just felt so strange. How did people defecate in this? She felt a nervous twitch in her bladder at the thought. Afterwards, Narriss was able to present the guards with a royal seal that Meliora had given her, and someone, a while ago now, had gone to fetch anyone who could get her out of here. So, Narriss sat in her cell, left leg bouncing up and down erratically, albeit hampered slightly by the diaper now under her dress. The summit would start any moment, and she was here! She tried not to dwell on that too much. What have I gotten myself into? She thought glumly. What would the consequences be? Lady Meliora said that she had to behave with courtesy--well what if she needed to relieve herself during the meeting? Would the negotiations fall apart? Back in Plassenar, you’d just ... go. I suppose you’d do the same here, too. Just in a diaper instead of on your seat. Something about that felt dishonest and wrong. Pulling up her dress slightly, Narriss looked down at the diaper. She kind of needed to pee again, though the thought of doing it in that thing was mortifying. It surrounded her waist completely, locking away the freedom to go where you needed, trapping the mess next to you. Again, the thought of using the thing made her slightly disgusted. Although, she had to admit, it did feel quite nice when dry. Like a pillow, almost. Hesitantly, more out of curiosity than anything else, she poked the fluffy fabric. The diaper was so thick she could barely feel her finger beneath the padding. She poked it again -- THUD. The door to the gaol burst open, and a vaguely familiar woman stepped onto the stone-tiled flooring--that woman Lady Meliora was talking to at the feast. Her antlers sparkled gently with the fresh mist outside, and her nose twitched slightly. Her dress was almost as regal as her strides towards Narriss’ cell. “Well, well, well,” she said, moving towards the iron bars that held Narriss there. “We have gotten ourselves into a bit of a mess haven’t we?” “My lady!” Narriss said quickly, curtseying. Halfway through her bow, she realised that lifting her dress to curtsey would reveal her diaper. She felt her cheeks grow warm with blush as she saw a wry smile on the lady’s face. “Delved into the local culture have we?” “I-I-” Narriss couldn’t think of anything to say. To be caught like this! Embarrassment flushed through her. “It’s alright, young one.” the woman said, “I am Lady Halene Goudenel, I was sent by Lady Van De Natte.” her smile shifted, wry became warm. Narriss felt her embarrassment subside, albeit only slightly. “Guard!” she said loudly, and there was a clatter from the back-room as a onesie-clad guard stumbled in. “Please let my friend here out of her cell. I shall be taking her with me!” “I’m afraid I’ll need to see some--” before the guard could talk, Lady Halene thrust a piece of paper towards them--a writ of some sort. “Huet!” the guard shouted, and a second guard, presumably called Huet, emerged from the back. Unlike the first, he was not dressed in a onesie, rather somewhat normal clothing. He took the paper of the first guard, scanned it briefly and nodded. And just like that, Narriss was free. “Hurry my dear,” Halene said as Huet guard unlocked the door. Finally, Narriss went down to remove the cloth diaper from around her waist. Oddly, Halene stopped her. “No time, we must be on our way. The summit has already begun.” a jolt of fear burst through Narriss like lightning. She had let Meliora down. She’d let her country down. The two of them left the gaol. “Is the Lady okay?” Narriss asked. She and Halene moved quickly through the market outdoors, people from all directions rushing past. It was tricky walking with the thick padding between Narriss’ legs, so she mostly waddled along as best as she could. “She is fine Narriss. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner. She is glad to hear you are okay, but wasn’t best pleased when she found out what happened.” Narriss went quiet. So much for being discreet. Halene clearly noticed her contemplative silence. “It’s all right. She’s just a little stressed at the moment. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Narriss could only nod. “At least tell me,” Narriss eventually said, “Is the summit going well?” Meliora The summit had been going horribly. The representative of Luin hadn’t been budging on any of his points and, as expected, his implied acceptance of the treaty had been less than concrete. His sense of grandeur and power was seemingly only bolstered by the large pavilion under which they all sat, each politician perched like vultures along a large stone table. They were all dressed rather conservatively, not a single sign of the usual regalia that accompanied them-- bright colours, pacifiers, that sort of stuff. Only the occasional rustle of a diaper indicated that they were, in point of fact, from Luin. Surrounding Meliora were a team of Lords and experts from Plassenar. In particular, her Aide–Lord Griet–sat to her left, and Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf-lord, to her right. They were the pain with which she would colour her canvas. Meliora had sent her Wizard’s apprentice, Narriss, away to gather information to use against the Plasseners here, but she unfortunately had failed to make any sort of appearance. Then, after finding out that the idiot girl had been imprisoned, Meliora was forced to send Halene away to get her out, and even she had been taking her time. It had been over an hour now. Dammit, why was Meliora always clearing up other people’s messes! The talks had stalled since, but she forged ahead, at the behest of her king. She’d resorted to placing valuable resources up for trade, and what’s worse, there was also another, more personal, problem that was preventing her from concentrating fully on the remainder of this damned meeting. Meliora wiggled slightly in her seat, holding her pee in as best she could. That damned girl hadn’t brought back a diaper either. She’d just about managed to relieve herself elsewhere, along with her retinue during the brief recess they’d had, but hadn’t found the opportunity to go since. Just as she suspected, this visible weakness had opened them up to political attack. You’ll just have to hold it, she thought to herself, though rather more aggressively than she had meant to. Although she suspected that this meeting would be over shortly. “Lady Meliora!” The man opposite her–Lord Vauque De La Seule Couche, the cousin of the Queen of Luin–said with immense exasperation, “Surely you cannot be suggesting that we just remove our troops from Ile De Sommeil! You’d simply move troops in to displace them!” The man was, at this particular summit at least, not the bane of Meliora’s existence. That award belonged to the other Lords and Ladies gathered around the great stone table. Despite Vauque’s relative willingness to negotiate, she was still having troubles however. Unlike the other lords in Plassenar, she did not know the Luin people and their secrets. She clenched her fists, and her thighs, under the table in an increasingly vain attempt at keeping some semblance of composure. But before Meliora could respond, Lord Aert spoke–his pointed ears perked up, “Lord Vauque. We have all seen far too much bloodshed in the past few years to send troops into a foreign land where they will have no means of escape. No one wants a war.” Yes! Meliora may have ‘locked horns’, so to speak, back in Plassenar, but here that sharp mind could be put to good use. She knew bringing him was a good idea. Meliora nodded, and continued, “Ile De Sommeil, much like this beautiful island here,” and Meliora tore her hands away from holding herself to gesture to the landscape around them, “Could flourish with trade between our two great nations. You have our word, my word, any troops we do send will integrate into a mixed set of guards for the island with your own troops. In return we ask only that your troops do the same, and we shall be open to trading in coal, iron and gold from our prosperous mines down in Modemeer.” This seemed to give Vauque pause for thought. There was a moment of quiet while he stared past Meliora, interrupted only by the gentle grunts of another lord beside him, who was obviously filling his diaper. Oh how she wished she could let herself go like that! As much as Meliora tried to distract herself with thoughts of the meeting, the fresh earthen-stink that floated through the air only served to remind her of her own relief, or lack thereof. She pressed both of her hands into her lap as subtly as she could, but caught Lord Aert in the right corner of her vision, glancing concernedly at her, his tail stiff, and hairs raised. Clearly he was in need of relief as well. Please hurry, she thought. Vauque looked down, smiling gently, and Meliora’s heart leapt. He sighed, and, to every Plassen Lord’s surprise, slowly began nodding. She met his eyes eagerly. “I am open to these terms,” he said. Yes! “But we still have things to work out. I must talk with my superiors, and you with yours.” Meliora smiled broadly. This had worked out well. Not as well as she had been hoping for, but well enough. It was a solid start. “I couldn’t agree more, though I think you’ll find the King very enthusiastic about this deal!” Meliora said. Though Vauque didn’t quite have the reaction she expected -- he almost chuckled to himself. “I must admit, I do find myself wanting to trust you, Lady Meliora. However, I also find that my trust is a little more cautious for your King, who seems more content making deals with sugar-merchants, than running your kingdom himself.” Vauque said. Meliora’s smile vanished. Perhaps she should have tried to contain her shock, but her need to pee was taking up that space inside of her instead. “How did -- how did you find out about that?” she said. Vauque opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a messenger boy waddled up behind him, and whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide momentarily, and he gestured for the boy to leave before standing up. The lords and ladies from his side of the table all followed suit. Meliora still sat, half out of shock, and half because she wasn’t sure she could stand without wetting herself. The other members of her side glanced expectantly. “Lady Meliora,” Vauque said sympathetically, “I would stand if I were you.” Meliora frowned. What was this? Still confused, Meliora stood as carefully as she could. It was just in time too, because as she tried to scrape together what little composure she had left, two young men, each dressed in colourful blue uniforms, strode onto the pavilion with trumpets in hand. Meliora was beginning to shake, both mentally and physically. All of this was so confusing. Was it planned by Lord Vauque in an attempt to intimidate? Maybe he knows about my bladder situation, she thought tensley, and he’s stalling for time. Her cheeks began to burn red as she felt all the tables’ eyes on her. Meliora attempted to move them to her side, feigning composure. She was attracting glances from all around now. Hopefully this wouldn’t last long whatever it was, though Meliora had to admit, she had a bad feeling about all this. The trumpeters raised their instruments and rumbled through a regal tune. Then a third figure, this one wearing a bright, frilly yellow dress, short enough that it barely came halfway over their diaper, stood at the entrance to the pavilion as the trumpeters left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” they said to the row of Plasseners, some of whom were beginning to squirm a little, “Boys and girls,” and they looked to the opposite side of the table -- to Vauque and the other officials from Luin and Dullen, “And representatives of the land, I duly present her Royal Highness Queen Amée De La Seule Couche of Luin, Keeper of the Seven Swords, Guardian of the First Crib, and Herald of the Winds of Puer.” Shit. After that mouthful, and a minor moment of private panic on Meliora’s behalf, the announcer bowed and backed up, before parting to the left of the entry. And then, the Queen of Luin herself entered. Flanked by two guards in the same uniform as the trumpeters, a woman in her mid twenties flowed into the room. And flowed was the right word to describe the sight. Although she seemed to radiate a pompous regality in that massively oversized frilly tutu, and despite her waddle at the blatantly thick diaper that coddled her (in fact, it looked thicker than almost any other Meliora had seen), she was still as graceful and gentle as the wind itself, as if she had been born a particularly beautiful peacock. For a brief, blissful moment, Meliora forgot about her need to urinate, and followed the table’s awed bowing and curtseying. This may have been a mistake. As soon as she attempted to lower herself into a curtsey, she felt her bladder pang, and released the tight grip of her urine in surprise. A tiny dribble spat out, and warmly twisted down her leg, before she managed to regain control. As a small wooden throne was brought up behind her, the Queen nodded regally and they all sat. It was slightly easier to maintain control like this, and upon sitting, her hands were able to snap back to hold her crotch. She began to wiggle slightly in her seat. To her left, she could swear she heard a small fart from Lord Griet, Meliora’s aide. However, no one else seemed to be paying attention to that, their energy instead focused on the Queen. “So, it seems I am in the graces of some of the finest political minds in the land!” she said, puffing up her dress slightly as she brought her hands down in excitement. “Yes your majesty!” Vauque said. “I believe you already know our people,” and Vauque gestured to the two representatives to his left, “but we also have Lady Moren Wystwith, of Dullen,” a lady to Vauque’s immediate right nodded in recognition, “along with Lady Meliora Van De Natte, representing Plassenar,” and Meliora felt all eyes cast upon her as she tried to keep herself together. She stopped wriggling for a moment to nod towards Her Majesty. Gods it felt awful to stop! “A pleasure to meet you both!” the young Queen said. As soon as she began chattering again, Meliora resumed her little … what was it those Dullener’s in the north called it? Ah yes, ‘potty dance’, hiding behind the safety of the table. The Queen smiled at everyone before continuing, “Please apologize for my intrusion, I was in the area and was merely curious as to how these sorts of proceedings functioned.” The Queen was newly appointed, her father apparently having died in battle, during the most recent Pacification War. But Meliora didn’t have much time to dwell on that, she had to force herself to remember to smile and nod when Vauque began to recount the meeting. As she pressed her hands into her lap as hard as she could, she noticed her dress growing slightly damp. Was she leaking already?! Gods, not now! Maybe I should look down to assess the damage… No. That might give everything away. She was becoming really desperate now, holding herself as best she could. She felt the urine pressing against her bladder, begging for release. Meliora glanced towards the others on her side of the table. Some of them, too, were wriggling slightly in discomfort. Compared to them, the opposite side were eerily calm. Lord Vauque, whether oblivious or not, took his time informing the Queen, who sucked serenely on a pink pacifier a servant had provided her. To make matters worse, just as Vauque’s conversation was coming to an end, Halene and Apprentice Narriss decided to return. Lady Halene was visibly stunned to see the Queen, and slowed her rush to a walk, whilst the young apprentice moved to the seating outside of the pavilion, with the lesser officials, and looking rather ashamed. And was she waddling? The Queen broke off her conversation with Vauque, removed her pacifier, and looked to Halene perturbedly. “And you are?” she asked with an air of surprise. “Lady Halene Goudenel, Your Majesty.” Halene said with a curtsey. Although the Queen seemed a little mollified by Halene’s obedience to procedure, she placed her pacifier on the table instead of resuming. “Well, welcome Lady Goudenel. Do we have any more surprises awaiting us?” She looked at everyone around the table. Meliora was tempted to say that they might have a rather golden surprise if they continued much longer, but thought the better of it. Damn, she wasn’t thinking straight now. She felt another quick burst of pee release, dampening her dress. It was fortunate she was wearing dark colours, because she felt a large wet patch under her rear. “So, Lady Halene, why do you join us only now?” “Oh, I was just taking a quick break from the summit, your majesty.” Halene said. “Yes, I’m sure it must be wearing on you, what with your odd lack of diapers. Though I do hope you remain in my presence for the remainder. This all sounds quite thrilling.” It seemed almost like a threat. A few of the Luin delegates chuckled slightly, though Meliora noticed Vauque’s silent refusal to join in. The Queen only seemed bolstered by the reaction she’d gotten however. “In fact, I’m surprised that none of you have wet yourselves yet! What with all the rumors about you people and your barbarity.” the Queen directed that one straight at Halene, and it was quite clear what she was intimating. A general chuckle from the opposite side of the table didn’t help either, though once again Vauque just reddend, looking embarrassed. A furious blush enveloped Halene, and Meliora saw her fists clenching. “Please excuse my potty mouth. I find the differences in our cultures fascinating, but clearly the more concerning aspects are exaggerated. You seem to be controlling yourselves finely today my lords and ladies. One could only imagine if …” Meliora stopped listening to the queen. The bursts of urine were becoming more and more frequent now. Please let this be over. Please let this be over! All this pee-talk was taking its toll. The warm, damp patch on her rear was growing slowly, trickling into the chair beneath, and Meliora realised that she had fully begun to wet herself. All she could do now was delay the release as much as possible. Meliora saw Vauque glance at her, and blissfully, he cleared his throat and spoke, “Well, I believe that’s been quite enough for today. We have a busy time ahead of us, let us make the most of it!” and he raised his wine glass. Everyone around the table followed suit, though thank the gods no one drank, and they scooted their chairs back. Almost there! Her backside felt wet with warm urine, and as they stood, she felt the cold air get to it. If she could only hold it for a few more moments, just a few more … But the movement was too much. Meliora’s bladder spasmed, and she momentarily let go. It was impossible to hold again. There was little else she could do but gasp, as Meliora felt a sudden stream of warm urine burst out from between her thighs. An utterly blissful wave of relief flooded through her, rippling up her back, as she let her pee go. She sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. Maybe she could have gotten away with a small wet patch on her dark clothing, but this was simply too much. She felt her pee hit the front of her dress, soaking a glistening warmth into it, and putting on a show for the whole table. As her stream slowed, she opened her eyes and blushed as gobsmacked expressions from the other side greeted her. There was no uproar, no shouting. The Queen simply watched in petrified horror, before eventually striding around to Lord Vauque. She whispered something utterly inaudible in his ear. Those around him seemed to have heard however, and sly grins crept onto their faces.Vauque himself only frowned, almost angrily, holding his tongue. She turned and faced Meliora directly. “It seems that I was wrong.” she said quietly before twisting around, her frilly tutu following her moments after in a spiral, and striding away from the Pavillion. The remaining delegates, Meliora included, were left stunned. She looked to Vauque for answers. All he offered was a look of sympathetic resignation. “I’m sorry.” he said. And with that, his side of the table all left the pavilion as well, leaving a very wet Meliora, and her allies, alone. END OF EPISODE 2

- Episode 2 - PART 1 MELIORA Lady Meliora Van De Natte sighed heavily as she relieved herself, urine spiralling down her leg and onto the clay-tiled floor of the hall. She sat at a long table, with many other guests in attendance, including her distant cousin, the King, himself. The floor was sloped in a way that allowed people’s pee to flow into the middle, where they were promptly drained away. Despite this, the floor was still wet, and reflected the gold trim of the high-beamed roof. The chamber was grand, regal, and -- to Meliora at least -- a little over-pompous. And to consider, she thought, that those babies in the north believe us to be barbaric. Meliora didn’t much like the haughty nature of the court, but barbarity? Ha! She scoffed at the very thought of it. The King was in the middle of another one of his showy-speeches, “...for many a year now. To think! Back then we were but insects on the world stage…” and Meliora was getting tired of it. As much as she detested these things however, they were necessary to keep the king satisfied, especially as she needed to talk to him with great urgency. But, the King was in the middle of making himself look good, so she decided to concentrate on her food, it was the only good thing about these feasts anyway. Sitting cosily on her silver platter, was a selection of smoked vegetables, steaming roast potatoes, and slices of Stalle, fried to perfection. Many years ago, so the holy texts said, when humans and non-humans were at war over food, the god Liefyr gifted the peoples of the world the plant Stalle, so they would cease eating eachother. Apparently it had worked, because sat around the table with her, where many a non-human. Not that anyone had ever put much thought into it. The days where tension grew high between species was long gone, relegated to the history books of old. At least here in the south. Court and country were a civilised place now, happy and harmonious. Well, country was, court perhaps not so much. Despite the relative peace in the presence of the king, tensions between individuals still ran high, especially behind his back. Opposite Meliora was Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf with a particularly sly canine-gaze. Like Meliora, he sat stoically, determined not to give anything away to his political enemies. Enemies like Meliora. Just look at him, she thought with a juvenile air of competitiveness, thinking he can beat me at my own game. She broke her stoicism, and her meal, for a brief glare at Aert, but before the wolf could return it, the King concluded his speech. “Thank you! Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience.” the King waved magnanimously. He was kind, and often cared for the people of Plassenar, but unfortunately that came at the cost of any real power. Even now, one Kanniss Blomscheet, a wealthy sugar-merchant who’d been invited, was whispering in the king’s ear. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner however, and she to no one else. Her neighbor, Lady Halene Goudenel, was chatting idly to the man next to her, a lord which Meliora didn’t know. Meliora continued eating, ignoring the two chattering, but halfway through their conversation, Lady Halene lifted her furry rear upwards slightly, and farted noisily. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, “I shall have to go to the mess-hall after this!” Halene waved her hand in front of her nose, looking around. Meliora hoped that the woman wouldn’t notice her, but alas, it was not to be. “Lady Van De Natte! I didn’t see you there!” she said, her talking companion going pale upon seeing who Halene was attempting to talk to. Halfway through a bite of food, Meliora made an attempt at saying ‘hello.’ It came out as more of a stuffed mumble. “Hello to you too! Wonderfully diverse platter today, wouldn’t you say?” Halene continued, determined to push through the awkwardness. She twirled her hair around one of her antlers aimlessly, waiting for a response. Meliora eventually gave in, swallowing her food indelicately. “Yes, I suppose so.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Halene took that as cause to persevere, because just as Meliora was about to resume her meal, the woman conversed again. “I take it you wish to see His Majesty after we have concluded.” It was a statement, not a question. For some reason Meliora felt a child crawl through her. Suddenly she was on edge, and she felt another trickle of warm urine down her bare leg. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner. No one. Did she want something? Meliora realised that she had been quiet too long. “Yes, my Lady. I do. Is there something you wish to ask?” “Oh, no. Actually, I was hoping to speak to you afterwards. However, I understand that you’re busy.” Halene said. Meliora wasn’t sure how to respond. She rarely spoke to Lady Goudenel, her being on the High Council for only a few months. Meliora hadn’t gotten a good read on the woman yet, she was still somewhat of an enigma, and that scared her. It was a strange feeling -- Meliora couldn’t remember the last time she had been scared. Should she accept? This would be a good opportunity to understand the woman a little better. Maybe Meliora would gain some information on one of the other council members. It was a tempting prospect. “Unfortunately not tonight,” Meliora said eventually, “but --” “It isn’t at all urgent,” interrupted Halene, waving her arm toward the table. “When are you next available?” “It may not be for some time. If all goes well I aim to be out of the country for a week or two.” “Well, that just happens to be the subject I wished to bring up.” Halene asked with the dimmest flicker of a smile. Despite herself, Meliora smiled back. “I should have room for tomorrow afternoon, if that will suffice.” “Wonderful!” the woman said with an excited nod, complimented with a wide grin, “I look forward too--” Ffffttttt. The odorus noise spilled out from her seat. “Oh dear. This food really has got the better of me. I do hope this all finishes soon, or I may have to relieve myself here!” Halene giggled at her little joke, and returned to her dinner leaving Meliora to ponder what she had gotten herself into. By the time everyone had finished, the King was ready to retire. He bowed, waved his hand, and excused guests, some of which tried to hound him. Meliora would have to get in quick. Thankfully, some of the people going after His Majesty, were some of her own. Magist Gaerdt and his young apprentice, a feline girl in her twenties, were trying to push past the guards. Knowing that they’d never get past, they were instead preventing the King from leaving quickly enough so that Meliora could catch a word. Fortunately, Meliora was very much respected by the guards, and they let her pass with no small amount of reverence. She had to admit, she liked the effect it had -- as if the oceans were parting for her. It made her feel strong and powerful. “Your Majesty, if I could only-” Gaerdt croaked, before Meliora glided past. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing gracefully. She wouldn’t have much time to convince him, only a sentence or two. This would have to be done carefully. “May I have a word? It is of the utmost importance.” The King stopped in his tracks, lowering his head respectfully. “Lady Meliora, I’m sure you have much to say, but can this wait? It is late and I-” “Well …” Meliora countered, “I was going to ask about next week’s summit. I would very much like to ask you some questions, run some ideas past you. After all, most of the men here are on the wizened side of wise. You have a much more contemporary view of politics.” Long ago, Meliora realised that to survive court politics, you had to be brutal. You had to systematically hunt down your enemy’s weaknesses, and exploit them ruthlessly. The King liked clever words, or at least words that sounded clever to him, and a little stroke of his ego wouldn’t hurt either. Merchants were good at that, hence their power in his court. Luckily so was Meliora. Clearly it had worked, because the King seemed to be considering her proposition. “Oh, all right. But we shall have to talk in the mess-room, I’m getting rather desperate.” The King finally conceded. “Gaerdt,” said Meliora, turning to her Magist, “Please wait for me in my quarters, we have much to discuss afterwards.” “Yes, Lady.” he replied, and he and his apprentice bowed. “Come Narriss, we still have to find that book.” and with that, the aging man hobbled away, the young feline apprentice helping. Meliora and the King were escorted to the mess room, the King dribbling pee behind him as he walked. Usually, due to the sterile nature of urine, one could relieve themselves wherever they wished. Excrement, however, was not so sanitary. Peasants usually messed themselves as they toiled, using it as fertiliser for their fields. Here in the city however, designated mess-halls, or in the King’s case a private mess-room, was where people went number two. The room was somewhat large, big enough for multiple people. At the far end were two windows and a small balcony, bordered by the Plassen flags -- brown fabric, with white and golden waves. The King often held meetings here, so there was seating, golden chairs with silk cushions. The floor was the same clay tiles of the dining hall, each bearing the royal standard. Meliora made a move towards a chair opposite the King, who upon entering immediately pulled his pants down, starting to fidget. Meliora herself was wearing a dress, much preferred when desperate. Watching as the King leant over his seat, pushing, Meliora thought of what she was going to say, how she would approach this. It was important, and the King needed to understand what was at stake here. “Gggggrrrrrggg” he groaned, pushing out two long logs of poop. They snaked out of him, and coiled around each other neatly onto the stained cushion below. What am I going to say? What would convince a man to go to war? “Ahhhhhh …” sighed the King in relief, a few loose farts escaping. He sat back down on top of his mess, pushing it into the cushions with an audible squelch. Then, just as Meliora got an idea of how to approach the topic, he wriggled his bottom, pushing the poop around. Prince or peasant, it didn’t matter -- squishing was one of the few feelings that everyone enjoyed, Meliora included. A spike of envy even shot through her momentarily, annoyed that she didn’t have to relieve herself, but she quickly regained focus. “Right then, Lady Meliora. What do you want to know?” “Well Your Majesty, first and foremost, do you have any ideas about approaching the treaty?” she asked. The King looked slightly taken aback at that, and Meliora had to force her face to keep straight. “Whatever do you mean, Lady? I was under the impression that they had already agreed to sign it?” “Well yes, they did imply that.” Meliora said, steering the King into the position she wanted. “But we know the North cannot be trusted with matters as serious as this. They are frivolous and fickle, thinking only about their play and not their work. You don’t really expect them to be that consistent do you?” Meliora didn’t really lie. It was cause for concern. These northerners knew nothing of hard work and labor, many lived in luxury, playing all day. “I had assumed--” “With the utmost respect your Majesty, that is exactly it. You assumed.” “You didn’t come here to ask me for help did you?” He looked like a child being told off. Perhaps he was ashamed that he had been so naive. Meliora almost felt bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand. Meliora respected the man’s kindness too much to lie about something like this. “My King, if I may speak frankly?” she waited for him to nod his head, and then continued, “I don’t believe any good can come of this summit. The people of Luin … they’re not like us. They won’t sign this treaty, there’s too much that they gain from war.” “What could they possibly gain from war?” the King asked, leaning forward. “Weapons sales, unity through common enemy, certainty in a changing world.” Meliora sighed, it was a harsh truth that war was so simple. Contracts, treaties, negotiations, why bother when you could just engage in conflict? There was a deep silence between the two. The King had his face in his hands, thinking. Meliora had to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. The King only wished his people had the same luxury that the Luiners had -- he could be a great King, truly great, if tempered by the ruthlessness of his aides. Why was it so hard to watch this man accept that war was inevitable. Was she as ruthless as she thought? “Meliora,” the King said suddenly, raising his head from his hands, “I hear what you are saying. I really do. You don’t trust Luin, and you want to strike before they have the chance to lure us into a false sense of security.” “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, that is precisely it--” but before she could continue the King interrupted. “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a prince, my father took me to the front line. The regalia and glory of war was appealing to a child, and I went with glee. But when I arrived it was nothing like I thought. The place stank of death, of decay. There were bodies lined up in the streets of camp, sometimes in piles. It -- I still have nightmares. But I had never thought more clearly than in that moment. I bent down to one of the bodies, and …” the King stopped. He seemed distant, as if scared to go back there, to that place. Meliora hadn’t seen him like this before. “... And I bent down to say my prayers to one of the fallen. It was a boy, Meliora. A boy of twelve years old! I can’t remember what caused his death, only that his face was death itself. His eyes were empty. His soul, gone. Imagine what was taken from the world. Imagine the potential that boy might’ve had. All gone in an instant.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes slowly coming back into the room. Meliora was transfixed, “Lady Van De Natte, the other side may be very different from us, but I can guarantee their children have died too. Lives on both sides have died for a war they didn’t start. If they have a shred of humanity, and suspect they have more than a shred, then believe me when I say, they want to end this war as much as you or I.” The King was looking at Meliora now, directly into her soul. His deep, brown eyes yearning for peace, yearning for an end to this petty conflict. The ripple of doubt in Meliora’s mind had transformed. Great waves of torment, battered by a storm of guilt and shame, crashed and bellowed within her. They twisted her stomach, tugged violently at her chest. Could she be ruthless? I have to be. She had to be ruthless for the good of the realm. There was a long, final pause before Meliora spoke. She sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?” NARRISS Narriss hadn’t seen anything like it before. The port in which the ship was docking was packed full of people. They brushed past each other, all heading to one place or another, like an ant colony. Even the capital hadn’t been this busy, or if it ever had, Narriss had been busy working with master Gaerdt. The gentle slosh of the ocean lapping against the boat, had been replaced by shouting, chattering, and a loud constantly-ringing bell. But what shocked her the most was what people were wearing. Some, like her, wore tunics and pants, robes and cloaks. But some wore onesies, sucked pacifiers nonchalantly, and underneath it all were the unmistakable bulges of diapers. In spite of this, the air smelt familiar. Sea salt and urine mixed in the air across the harbor, floating across the ocean beyond. Narriss’ closed her eyes. The wind blew gently through her fur, her tail swayed gently behind her, and her ears relaxed by her sides. She inhaled deeply, taking in the atmosphere of the place, and a strange peace came over her. A gentle, laminar peace. “Narriss.” A sharp voice from behind her said. She turned quickly, seeing Master Gaerdt standing there. “Come, we have business with Lady Meliora.” Narriss nodded, and followed her teacher down into the ship’s cabins. They had been travelling here, to the Isle of Ieder, for three days now, and she was getting sick of being bunged up in a tiny cabin with Master Gaerdt. She had complained out loud initially, which had been a mistake. “It gives you plenty of time to focus on your studies instead of napping then.” Master Gaerdt had said, never glancing away from his work. Though she swore she could hear a smile in his voice. Lady Meliora’s chambers were nowhere near as cramped as everyone else’s. As they entered, Narriss saw the familiar sloped floor, with a tile pattern running from under Meliora’s desk. It was glistening wet. The tile pattern continued past the centre of the room and rose again like the edge of a bowl, stopping under a plush-fabric seat. Lady Meliora herself sat at an ornate desk, silhouetted a little by grand windows behind her. Why don’t we have any windows like that? Narriss asked herself as she stood behind her teacher. Meliora scribbled something on a piece of fresh paper, before glancing up to Narriss and Master Gaerdt. She gestured for them both to sit. “Master Gaerdt,” she said, nodding to Narriss’ left, “Apprentice Narriss,” she nodded to Narriss, “Thank you for attending me here.” That was odd. Meliora barely seemed to notice Narriss normally, let alone speak to her. This was all strange. Something was about to happen, Lady Melliora wanted something from Narriss, but what could she possibly offer? She was just an assistant, an apprentice. A flash of dread struck through her. The Lady looked uncomfortable sitting at her desk, almost fidgety. She was never normally like this at all. What was going on? Meliora cleared her throat before continuing where she left off. “As you are both aware, we have a very important mission here on Iedar. To go over our aim again, Master Gaerdt, we want to establish relations to aid the signing of the North-South Disarmament Treaty, as requested by …. nnng … the King.” Meliora looked wholly uncomfortable after she said that, jostling in her seat. It was well known to the servants of Meliora, Narriss included, that the woman thought the war was still a necessary fight. Narriss had to agree. Unlike here in the south, Luin and the Dullen Isles (especially the former) were hostile to her kind. Plassenar was fighting for freedom -- freedom to relieve yourself where you wanted without punishment, freedom to be chaotic, and freedom to be different. If that meant tearing down their broken culture to achieve this freedom, so be it. “Now that all the official stuff is out the way,” Meliora continued, “I need to ask you two a favor. This stays absolutely confidential, do you understand?” she looked directly at Narriss as she said it, and without hesitating, Narriss nodded back. She wasn’t sure she liked the Lady, but the woman’s cause was just. “I cannot … nnn … I cannot believe I’m about to say this --” Lady Meliora went quiet suddenly, and began to wriggle more noticeably. She slid her rear across the velvet cushion of her seat. Narriss looked to Master Gaerdt, who only blinked in surprise. Meliora put a hand between her legs, and suddenly Narriss realised what was happening. As if she needed any more confirmation, Meliora quickly gave up, and took her hand away, said “Oh, blast!” rather more audibly than Narriss suspected the lady intended, and leant back in her chair. Less than a second later, she sighed as urine gushed out from under the table, hissing through Lady Meliora’s dress. Even from the other side of the table, Narriss could see a dark patch spreading on her clothes, as familiar as the blue sky. “Mmmmmmmaahhhh!” Meliora’s shoulders lowered and despite her usually reserved demeanor, a tiny smile flickered onto her face as she peed. She quickly finished and, evidently self conscious all of a sudden, straightened her dress before plastering on a calmer expression that contrasted oddly with her now scarlet cheeks. Silence punctured the room, and Narriss couldn’t help but look to master Gaerdt. However, he patently ignored her, focused on the Lady. “My Lady! Were you … were you holding that in!?” he said, visibly shocked at what he’d just witnessed. As if in defiance of what had happened, Narriss’ master let his own water escape, flooding his robe. Small rivers of urine, from both Meliora and Gaerdt, flowed into the centre of the room and were swallowed by the drain leading to the wooden cistern below. Meliora grew softly stern, straightening in her seat. “Not a word to anyone else on this ship at what you just witnessed, is that understood?” As shocked as she was, Narriss was the first to nod. She was used to taking orders, from Meliora, from Gaerdt, from any of her many superiors. But somehow Meliora didn’t feel so high and mighty anymore. Something about what had just happened made the woman less imposing, less regal. It was like a cloud had blotted the sun. Everything was still in the same place, but a certain luster had vanished. Narriss noticed Meliora looking at her, and she snapped her face back to impassiveness. Did the Lady notice? Eventually, Gaerdt followed with his nod of submission to the Lady, but Meliora just sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry you two had to see that.” she said somewhat sullenly, “These people, the summit, they expect certain behaviors from us, just as we do them. The deal was that they would be prohibited from going over-the-top with their regalia just as we do ours, to avoid offence. Part of that is … we are to relieve ourselves away from their notice during the meetings. I was practicing, here, now, and clearly I could not handle it.” “What restrictions have been placed upon them, my Lady?” Gaerdt looked to Narriss, appalled that his apprentice was talking without permission, but she couldn’t help herself. All this had gotten her riled up. Why should Plassenar have to bend to the will of another nation, just to sign some stupid treaty? Why should Plassenar suffer? However, Lady Meliora didn’t seem to mind. “That is a good question, Apprentice. In exchange for us being subtle about our culture they have agreed to hold back on their pompous clothes, and ... let ambassadors from different species into the meeting.” Narriss’ head boiled with indignation. Under the table, away from the view of the Lady, she clenched her fists, hard. Her hairs pricked up in defense, and she felt her face grow taught, struggling not to grind her teeth. Meliora was going through all this trouble to appease these people, when they should just treat everyone as equals. More and more, Narriss was growing angry at this whole twisted situation. The king, our king, wants to make peace with them? Meliora seemed to sense her utter frustration at the situation, and leaned forward. “I understand that this is hard Narriss --” “I’m sorry but you don’t understand at all.” Narriss snapped, half thinking. Gaerdt’s bemused face melted into anger at his apprentices’ impulsivness. But Narriss didn’t care. She was angry, and had the right to be so. However, Master Gaerdt had been teaching her to control that anger, focus it. “Apologies, my Lady, I shouldn’t have said that.” Narriss expected Meliora to be annoyed just as her master was, but the woman was strangely resigned about the whole thing. “No, it’s fine,” Meliora said, waving it away, “You are right. I don’t understand. This is why I have chosen you for the task. I know I can trust you, you’ve been with master Gaerdt here as long as any of my other staff, and your rank means you are in a prime position to understand both court and country in a way my friends simply cannot. But, more than all that, you are one of the people that Luin is trying to restrict. Your eyes, in that regard, see differently to mine. I grew up in a castle, in a place of privilege and luxury. I need to see what you see if I am to win this meeting.” “I’m sorry my Lady,” Gaerdt said, “Win?” “Quite, magister Gaerdt. No one wants peace, so even a small concession towards that aim will be a victory. But we need to focus. We need to practice. We need to keep calm.” Meliora said with the slightest hint of flourish in her voice. She was right. This was all too important to let anger take it all away. That’s what they wanted. Narriss breathed in deeply, centering herself. The anger within her, that raging storm, spiralled in her chest. Slowly, carefully, she pushed upwards into her head. She drew power from it, cunning, and perception. Eventually, it was no longer anger, but a vague pool of energy. Narriss felt as if she could draw from it, take whatever she needed. Her stomach cramped slightly as she contemplated it, feeling something brewing within. But before she could put much thought into that, Meliora spoke up a final time. “What I need from you Narriss, desperately, is reconnaissance. I need as much information as I can get -- ideally what the very heart of their culture is. What I need is to see where they eat, change, and what they do when they’re not at these meetings. But even then I fear that I am still not prepared. I’ll be honest, I wish I could send Gaerdt but ... ” Lady Meliora looked down at the wet patch on her clothes. For the first time, Narriss saw fear on her mistress’ face. “This little demonstration shows our weakness. We need to hide it. We need to be discreet. Gods forbid it should come to this, but what I need is a diaper.” END OF EPISODE 2 PART 1

After being disappointed with the lack of ABDL fantasy-adventure stories I decided to create my own. It’s just a silly little thing, but hopefully a bit of fun for those who carry on reading. This is a prelude to the story, so just setting some stuff up here, which may or may not come into play in the future... I dunno, we'll see, might not get that far lol. Either way, the prelude doesn't really have much in the way of ABDL content, purely world-building and story. Hopefully it's still entertaining. I'm uploading chapter 1 as a separate story. This is a re-upload. After some useful comments, I've decided to just upload all the stories in a single topic, which will be updated, and that should make everything easier to follow. Episode 2 will be out in a few weeks (as of 18/12/2021). Law of the Diaper - Prelude - Embos stood at the edge of the water. It crashed far beneath her, obeying only the wind. She had been waiting for her older siblings from across the ocean for a whole hour now, standing in a harsh storm that battered and bruised the cliff face below. Liefyr, her closest brother, had gone to get the others ready. So, she stood alone. The wind howled between her ears and tugged at her hair, and threatened, occasionally, to push her into the waters below. But she was the God of Craft. Embos wore boots of Caerson Steel, strong against the wind, and light to walk in. Each of her sibling gods on this side of the world had given their peoples a gift. Hers was Caerson, a metal both bountiful and useful. Embos hated waiting like this. She needed to do something, to be somewhere, though she didn’t know what on either account. Being the eldest of her siblings, at least of those that left Panthos, Embos felt a great responsibility to the others. A responsibility to nurture and raise. Despite being closer to Liefyr, in age she was similar to her older sibling Vafyr. And that made things complicated. Damn you Vaf, she thought, thinking of the young god. Why had he stayed with the others? Vaf was the weakest of their lot, and certainly wouldn’t be treated as their peer. With Embos and the others, he would be an equal, and great guide for the people here. Her head boiled again with anger, it had been more and more recently. Anger at the war, anger at her elder siblings, anger that she had little power by herself, and anger all she had to rely on were the youngest of gods. No, not anger. Disappointment. Instantly, she felt a pang of shame within her. They are just as valuable, just as powerful in their way. She had to admit, she was surprised at how seriously they were taking it. Normally Pelyr, the youngest of them and the God of Play, convinced Ranos and Liefyr to flunk this sort of thing. Maybe it was because Pelyr would never be able to play again if they failed, that he was taking it so seriously now. Whatever the case, Embos hoped it would last. Another great gust of wind barrelled across the grass, threatening to push Embos into the sea below. Waves crashed against the shore, the ocean’s white teeth foaming against jagged cliffs below. Dull beats, like someone playing the drums, echoed into the sky. The storm whistled around her ears, singing across the ocean. It was a tune she recognised. Looking up, Embos saw her older brother, Vafyr, silhouetted in the ocean mist. He walked on the air itself, using the wind as a path to the safety of the cliff. Around him, the grey mist somehow blushed a bright blue, as if he walked in a halo of sky. It was as if he was the colour of the world. Then again, Embos supposed, I guess he is. Within moments he was stepping onto the rock as if it were still the air, floating across newly budding grass. “Vaf!” Embos couldn’t help but let relief and no small amount of joy flood into her voice. Of all the people they could have sent, this was perhaps the best possible outcome. “Hello sister.” he said calmly, a broad smile across his face betraying any stoicism he might have masked himself with. “They thought you wouldn’t hurt me, so I was sent in place of a messenger.” Vafyr walked to Embos, he was more relaxed than she remembered. “Why would I hurt a messenger? Why would any of us--” “Em, please, I don’t think you’d hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. But that’s not how they think, is it?” Vafyr said as they walked down the shallow incline that led to the village below. Embos saw an opening. Now was the time. Now, after so many years, it was the perfect opportunity to ask. “Then why are you still--” but before Embos could finish, Vafyr cut her off. “I’m sorry, but I cannot say. I have my reasons, and hopefully you will find out soon.” “But I want to know now!” said Embos. She only realised how childish that must have sounded after she’d said it. However, Vaf didn’t seem to mind. He smiled broadly again, a glint in his eye. “Em,” he said, stopping and gently putting his hands on her shoulders. He was a foot taller than she was, towering over her. “I promise, now is not the time, but you will find out.” and that was all he said. Embos knew that was the end of it, she wouldn’t get anything else out of him. Time to move on. They continued their descent to the village. “So, why did you want to speak to us?” Embos asked, “I suppose it would be too much to ask for your loyalty?” The wind picked up again as Vafyr smiled, but the cold never came. Vafyr was too warm for that. “Unfortunately not.” he said, and then he went suddenly serious, his smile fading into what was almost a grimace. “The others want to make a deal with you.” Embos couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “You’re kidding. After all of this?” she said though a deep, slightly hysterical laughter. “After all you’ve put us through, now you want to make a deal?!” This was utterly ridiculous. Her older siblings never, never, made deals with those who were below them. And now they wanted to make a deal with not only ‘lesser gods’ but the enemy? “Now, I know what you are thinking-” Vafyr started to say, but Embos, finally managing to get control of herself, cut him off before he could do any more damage. “No, I’m sorry but no. You expect me to trust them after what they’ve done, not just to us, but the people of this world? This is stupid!” she said, and carried on walking towards the village. Vafyr stopped her, grasping her arm tightly, and suddenly this wasn’t so funny. Embos’ smiling face twisted into a scowl. “If you don’t trust them,” he said, looking deeply, so very deeply, into her, “Trust me.” They held a deep stare for a moment, before Embos broke away. What did he want? What was his plan? Their plan? He was serious, and Vafyr was rarely serious. “What aren’t you telling me Vaf?” He was holding something back, Embos knew it. There was something in his eyes, something curious, something important. He sighed, seeming resigned. “This is big Em. This is bigger than all of us. We came to a decision the other day, that this is the only way we’ll win this war.” He looked almost scared. Embos hadn’t seen him like this before. “What war?” “The only war that matters. There is … something coming.” Vafyr’s eyes glowed with a fearful anticipation. Whatever he was talking about, whatever was coming, was inevitable. The storm picked up again, blowing wind through the hills that edged the cliff face. It rippled across the grass, sending waves of darkness across the landscape. Trees, dotted here and there, swayed and danced about to the tune of the wind. Far above, clouds sped past. They swirled into each-other and ran towards dry land. Tiny droplets of rain hit skin, like pins-and-needles prickling across Embos’ body. Everything moved, everything was dynamic, everything had so much potential. For the first time, she realised how delicate it all was. While blades of grass flickered in the weather, one could simply halt each one with their thumb and forefinger. What would happen if all of this, this beautiful chaos, just … stopped? Embos realised she had been staring into space for a while. Vafyr had let go of her. She looked to her brother, searching for … something, some sort of solace, some sort of answer. Should she let him speak? Let the traitor influence their minds? If Vaf was lying they could lose their lands, their people, and their way of life to the gods across the water. But if he was telling the truth… “Em!” an energetic voice shouted from below. The two siblings atop the cliff whipped their heads around to look. It was Pelyr, their youngest sibling. Far below, the village people were out about behind him, interested to see what was going on. They all wore brightly coloured clothes, some in dungarees, some in onesies. Pelyr, spotting Embos, called again. “Em, c’mon, the others are back!” They could lose everything. If Vaf was right, everything would just stop. Embos raised her arm, shooting him a thumbs-up. Then, turning, she began again down the cliff. Vafyr stayed behind. “Sister …” he said, and Embos turned again. “Come on.” She said, “We have much to discuss.” Law of the Diaper - Episode 1 - FOST Fost waddled across the marsh. It was a miserable day, clouds had blocked the warm sun, leaving a thick grey gloom beneath. The marsh itself didn’t help much to quell the air of dullness that hung here either. It was slimy, squishy underfoot, and stank. And that wasn’t the only thing that stank. Fost fiddled with the leak guard of his diaper, attempting to make it more comfortable around his leg. It didn't do much. The diaper was just getting too full to ignore, he’d have to find that village as quick as possible, lest a rash set in. What’s worse, is that he was beginning to feel a little full in the bladder, and he didn’t suspect the diaper could hold another heavy wetting. “Damn.” he said to himself, stepping onto a raised patch of ground that was elevated comfortably out of the mud. Mud. The evil stuff came right up his leg, threatening to cling to his onesie. Not that much further, he thought to himself, then I can have a warm bath and a change. To make the rest of the journey easier on himself, he reached for his pacifier. It was attached to his neck with some old twine. It was nice, calming, and placated him enough to continue, at least for now. Now that his mind was clearer, Fost thought back to that old woman, and the conversation they had had a few days prior. What was it she wanted again? Ah, yes, that book on Strange Dymatagy. Apparently it was a rare thing that contained many more words than it did pictures. Fost scrunched his nose at the thought -- how strange. Books with many words were by no means rare, but they were usually owned by Mommies or Daddies, not another Little like himself. Though the woman was ancient, she was definitely a Little. It could only be a thick diaper between her legs that gave her that waddle, and besides, everyone knew that Littles were the only ones who could do proper Dymatagy. What a strange woman she had been. Living alone in the middle of nowhere, reading books not meant for her eyes. Oh well, thought Fost somewhat bitterly, a job’s a job. He was beginning to run low on funds besides much else, not that he had much to begin with. Besides, the village blacksmith here was apparently quite well known, and he needed a new sword as desperately as he needed a new diaper. After this, he’d be out of money. Hopefully the old woman’s job would set him up for after all of this. Before long, he had reached the bottom of a particularly high hill that had prevented him from seeing over the horizon. Salty mud and matted clumps of grass dotted the eleven foot tall mound, made worse by the recent rains. Fost looked at the hill and sighed heavily. Then, taking a large step, he pushed himself up and onto the mound, grunting loudly. Beneath his bare feet, the mud squelched and bubbled, rising through his toes. Another step, onto the steep slope. He placed his foot down and -- sloop. He slipped in the mud, falling backwards onto his polka-dot cloak and down into the mud below, pacifier flying out his mouth. Getting slowly to his feet again, Fost surveyed himself. He had a streak of brown mud down his favourite cloak. What’s worse, his onesie was now speckled with the stuff. Great, he thought, it’s going to be one of those days. He stepped forward again, making sure to be extra careful where he stood. One step up. His toes gripped into the mud. Two steps. He pulled his weight up. Three. Sloop. He slipped back down, falling onto his hands and knees. He tried again. One step. He gripped a tuft of grass, hard. Two steps. He yanked himself up. Three -- swooppllhh. Fost hit the mud with a loud splat. “aaaaAAAAHHH!” he shouted angrily. For the third time, he found himself at the bottom of that damned mound. Why was it so hard to climb a silly little hill? He used to be a soldier! A warrior! And now he was beaten by a little mud. “This is absurd!” he said through labored, angry breaths. It was. He brought his hand to the pacifier around his neck, intending to calm himself again. It was gone. No. No. It couldn’t be gone. Anger turned to panic, as he pressed his hand against his chest, hoping, desperately hoping, that it was just down his onesie. When he couldn’t find it there, he dived into the mud. It had to be here. It had to be here. Fost splashed and flailed in the muck, splattering the thick mess everywhere. He scooped through thick lumps of it, diving deep into the thick ooze to try and retrieve the pacifier. But he couldn’t find it. Panic turned to fear. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and his eyes felt heavy, watery. It was getting hard to see. On the very edge of tears, Fost just stood there, unable to move, unable to think. What would happen if he lost it? That one reminder? No. No. Fost was on the edge of storm, a raging tornado in his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the tempest gather within him. It was energy. It was power. Without a thought for the consequences, he dived into the eye of the storm, summoning it to his will. The rage and the panic and the fear swirled around him, and when he opened his eyes again, a bright white glow consumed them all. He clapped his hands to the sky, feeling the energy inside him burst out and cascade across the air. Ignoring the resulting cramp in his stomach, Fost opened his hands as if pushing a great force outwards. As he commanded so the mud obeyed, and like a great gust of wind, a circle of force was drawn around Fost, clearing the mud. The pacifier, blue and starry, lay on the ground, helpless against the mud that had consumed it. Fost smiled when he saw it. It was safe now. He bent down, delicately picking it up. The twine had snapped. Of course it had. No longer raging, the storm died down, and without thinking, Fost dropped his area of force. His face strained for a moment, and the cramp in his abdomen grew. Automatically, he pushed, and a thick mass of his own mud entered his already full diaper. He sighed deeply, content. Now that nothing was holding it back, the mud that surrounded him swept back to fill the emptiness, and within a moment, he was standing in it again. It was okay. It was okay. The pacifier was nestled between Fost’s cupped palms, sitting against the warmth of his skin. One hand closed tightly, ever so tightly, around the pacifier, and he used his other to swing his travel-sack off from beneath his cloak. It was small, only containing some food, some coin and a couple of books, but all had escaped the mud. With grace only seen in a parent caring for a child, he placed the pacifier into the bag, safe with the last of his money. Then, swinging his bag on his back again, he looked back to the slope... ...And refused to climb again. He quickly found a small stone and picked it up. With all his might, with all his effort, he imagined throwing the stone as far as he could, as hard as he could, over the hill. Then, closing his eyes, he dropped the stone. The storm of potential blew inside him again. It was much less this time, more of a strong gust of wind really. But it was enough, and with one great push, he leapt over the hill in a single bound. Well, just over half the hill. He only just passed the summit, before hitting mud, and falling on his bottom with a splat. Underneath him, the poopy diaper squished and pushed a little of his mess out of its confines. He felt the damp of fresh pee as he had another accident, a consequence of the magic. He slid down the other side of the hill, and landed at the bottom with a small splat, feet first. Fost was breathing heavily again. Even using basic Dymatagy usually took a lot out of him. He was muddy, tired, and now in dire need of a change. But, looking up, he saw what he had come for. Perched on a small island in the middle of this gods-forsaken flat, was a little village. Smoke puffed gently from a couple of chimneys, and small wattle and daub cottages stood proudly above the mud. So, brushing off as much of it as he could, he waddled towards the small settlement, trying to ignore his very full pants, and the pee dribbling down his leg. LARIA “Do you think they’ll be back?” Laria asked. She was sat on a porcelain potty, pull-up at her feet. The blacksmith wasn’t that busy at the moment, it rarely was these days. Her business partner, Krisp, slouched behind the wooden counter, where normally the bearded man stood proud. He had just been staring aimlessly at the door for about ten minutes now and, if she was honest, Laria was starting to get a little bit worried. “K?” she asked the man, stretching her head round. He didn’t answer. “Krisp!” she said loudly, and the man jumped slightly. “Sorry,” he said in that deep baritone of his. It always calmed her to hear his voice, it sounded like waves crashing along the beach. The man, normally red-faced, had somehow managed to go an even deeper shade of scarlet, “I’m fine, I was just--” “Dude, it’s fine.” Laria said, sighing, “I know what you were thinking.” There was a moment of reflective silence between them. The shop was always empty. Except for them. Laria almost thought Krisp would fade back into his daydream, but before long he spoke up again. “You making progress?” he asked, looking over to where Laria was perched on the potty, just next to the counter. “No, false alarm I think.” she said. “You’ll get the hang of it. Should have seen me trying a few years back, it was a nightmare. Pee went everywhere.” Krisp said, clearly trying to make Laria laugh. It didn’t really work. She looked down longingly. All this was so hard. Although most people on the Dullen Isles wore pull-ups well into their second decade, they were expected to be fully potty-trained within ten or so years of coming of age at 20. Most were trained years before that. At 28, Laria was starting to get worried. All her friends in Trully, her village, were completely out of their pull-ups. Although, Mossa, from down the road, still wore them for the occasional accident. Laria on the other hand, still used the underwear as her primary method of going to the toilet. To make matters worse, she had to admit that she actually enjoyed doing it sometimes. Not only were they convenient during long days at the forge, where one hardly had the time for potty breaks, but it also felt good to let loose where you stood, to feel the warmth growing around the pseudo-diaper. In Luin, the southern kingdom that ruled over Dullen, they used their diapers without a care in the world. People around here weren't usually friendly to southern visitors, but Laria found herself remarkably jealous of them instead. Although there were new, mandatory changing spaces in every shop, just as there was a potty, Laria would always be treated with an air of suspicion if she took up that lifestyle. Even more since Dullen was now a vassal of the more powerful kingdom, and resentment was skyrocketing. Mind you, they’d always be better than those barbarian pants-wetters in the West -- people who soiled their pants with no protection, no discretion. No matter what, Luin and Dullen would always unite against their wrath, even as reluctant allies. Eventually, Laria gave up trying to go pee in the potty, resigned to the fact that she would probably end up messing her pull-up later anyway. She raised herself off the potty, grabbed her pull-up and tugged on her trousers over the top. The potty, as always, stayed where it was beside the counter, in case a visitor needed it. Then, she moved to the back of the shop to where the fun stuff happened. The forge. “You didn’t answer my question.” Laria said to Krisp as she left him at the counter. The smithy itself was quite bare on the inside, with a few cabinets scattered about the front room displaying swords, knives, and other sharp objects. The bigger ones -- halberds and the like -- sat comfortably on the wall. Behind the counter was a door that led to the smithy itself, where most of the work was done. “I didn’t hear your question.” Krisp answered loudly, shouting across the smithy floor. “Liar!” she shouted amusedly back, moving into the smithy proper. “I don’t know what you mean!” Krisp said. Laria smiled, hearing the grin in his voice. Thick wafts of woodchip smoke from the fire, and a perpetual heat, hit Laria as she entered the forge. The back of the shop was much larger, messier and all around a much more interesting place to work. Beside a small wooden stool, a few swords were lined up, ready for polishing and then, hopefully, sale. Laria liked it back here. She liked the energy of the place, heated by the fire, always crackling; she enjoyed creating, crafting, and making something from something else; and she loved the feeling it gave her while doing it, almost like she was a sorcerer, doing magical things that no one else could. In a way, that was true. That’s what made potty breaks even more gruelling. The damned thing tore her away from her work, her beautiful work. It was the same feeling of uselessness she felt while on the counter, just waiting for customers that didn’t exist. So, Laria sat down on the small wooden bench, her pull-up padding her bottom on the hard wood, and got to work. While she rubbed oil along the slender blade of a newly forged longsword, she looked towards the door. Boy, Krisp really doesn’t want to answer that question she thought, smiling to herself. “Krisp, are you going to answer or not?” “Do you really want an answer?” he asked. It was a tough topic to talk about in his defence, but they needed to be prepared, and this was the beginning of that laborious process. “Yes, I want your opinion. Do you really think they’ll be back?” Although Laria was looking at the sword, careful of where her hands were, she was sure to keep her ears towards the door. It would be nice to just focus on the sword, but she knew she couldn’t until the question was answered. She was beginning to feel a little full ‘down there’ again as well, now that her pee-fright had gone. But before Laria could put much thought into it, Krisp spoke up again. “Honestly ... yes.” he said sullenly “I think they’ll--” He switched his voice abruptly, the slightly worn baritone sparking into a lighter greeting. “Welcome! How can I…” Krisps greeting petered out, and all Laria could hear were mumbles from the door. A customer! Finally, something was going up in this godsforsaken town. She went back to her work, only to be called out again a few moments later. “L, grab that Caerson arming sword we made a few months back.” Laria frowned and got reluctantly up. She moved towards a rack where she and Krisp kept the finished weapons, and grabbed the small arming sword. Then, she carefully made her way out front, to see what all of this was about. They never got visitors, especially ones asking for something so expensive. If she was to be distracted from her work, at least it was for a sale. The customer stood on the opposite side of the counter, chatting idly to Krisp as they waited. He was a young man, dwarfed by gargantuan Krisp, but taller than Laria. He leant on the counter, messy blonde hair straggled across his face. It was curly, unruly stuff, splattered with mud. In fact, now that Laria looked, the man was covered head to toe in the stuff. Clearly a Little from the onesie and multicoloured polka-dot cloak, the man looked rather unhappy in his current state. “Here you go sir.” she said, passing the sword to the man. He took it, looking somewhat unsure, and then looked it up and down. Only as she stood there for a moment, watching the customer, did Laria notice the smell. It was that all too familiar stench of a messy diaper, a very messy diaper. Now she looked, the loaded thing bulked between his legs, forcing them slightly apart. Although it was probably rude to stare, Laria couldn’t take her eyes off the thing. What does it feel like? To have so much weight down there? In fact, she only stopped staring when Krisp nudged her, and she snapped sharply out of her daydream. Rather luckily, the customer was still inspecting the sword. It was quite funny watching him. The poor fellow clearly didn’t know what he was looking for, either that or he was distracted. Maybe it was the diaper… “My partner here can give you a run-down if you’d like a good sir?” Krisp said, putting the man out of his misery. “Yes,” the customer answered, sounding relieved, “That would be great.” and he handed the sword to Laria. As she smiled, taking the blade from the customer, she couldn’t help notice that her bladder seemed considerably fuller than it had before. Oh well, can’t stop now, she thought, besides, I’ll probably just freeze back up if I try the potty again. Laria balanced the sword on the tips of her fingers, showing the customer where the blade’s centre of gravity was. She looked towards the man, who proceeded to nod gently. Then, moving with the grace of the wind, she threw the sword in the air, and caught it by the hilt. Krisp chuckled, seeing the customer waddle back slightly in surprise. She swung the sword around a little, getting a feel for it. “Arming swords are usually side-arms.” she said, slicing through the air. This felt good, a blade in her arms. It had been so long since they’d had any customers, she’d almost forgotten how freeing it felt to wield a sword rather than craft one. I’ll have to take this up again! “Did you want one this size?” she said calmly, hiding the energy, the potential, deep inside her chest. “Yes. Something easy to travel with, light and agile. I... I used to have a similar weapon in the army.” the customer said, the last bit subdued somewhat. He glanced to the ground as he said it. Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Surely he should know how to wield a sword if that were the case? Laria thought it best not to press him. She stopped her routine, and gently handed back the sword. He took it. “This should suit your needs quite well then.” said Laria. She glanced down at the man’s full diaper for a moment, but when she raised her eyes, she caught the customer’s gaze. His pale skin went suddenly red. It was almost as if he hadn’t even realised his diaper was that full until now, and was suddenly self-conscious. How couldn’t you realise when you’d messed yourself? Laria thought back to all the times she’d had an accident, and the bulge that stuck out of her pants. She remembered the earthy smell, the way it forced you to waddle along. Were Littles that oblivious? Krisp interrupted her train of thought, as per. “Is there anything else we can do for you?” he asked. For a moment, Laria didn’t know if it were possible for the man to blush more, but somehow he managed. “You … errr… you don’t know where I could change around here? I have my own supplies...” Krisp giggled slightly, but thankfully it seemed the man had gone as red as he could go. Now it was Laria’s turn to interrupt Krisp. “Yes, of course. This way Sir …” “Fost. Just, Fost.” “Okay Master Fost, this way please.” and she led him to the changing room out the back. FOST “Just back here.” the woman who ran the blacksmiths said. Fost waddled behind her as best he could, trying not to leak over their floor. Although he could handle the odd wet, or even messy, diaper, it had been two days now. He needed this so badly. It was clammy around his legs, the mess was dry and peeling, clinging to his skin like a crustacean. He followed the woman through the back of the shop and into the forge. A hazy fog of fire-smoke floated through the air ahead. “Through there,” the woman said, pointing at a door to Fost’s side. “Just go ahead and get started.” the woman continued, walking toward the forge’s fire, “I’ll just heat some water for you.” She didn’t bring her head up as she spoke, focusing intently on the fire and water instead. Fost nodded, though the woman didn’t see, and waddled into the small side-room. It was pretty standard as far as changing rooms went, though compared to the rest of the shop, it looked relatively new. The wooden walls were cleaner than the rest of the smithy, and a newly clay-tiled floor lay comfortably under a wooden table. It was the length of a man, and a leather cushion lay at the other end. It all looked barely used. Climbing onto the table was a little bit of a struggle. Fost didn’t particularly want to leak, these people were doing him a courtesy after all, and getting excrement everywhere would be extremely disrespectful. That was perhaps the one thing this strange place and his own homeland had in common -- it was always, always, impolite to make a mess when making messies. Of course it happened occasionally, accidentally. But only those barbarians in the south would be so disgusting as to do so deliberately. When Fost managed to get onto the table, he lay down, getting comfortable. Then, with practiced hands, he unbuttoned his onesie, and tore off the tapes of his diaper, which now rested on his upper waist. Presently, the woman entered with the water. Steam drifted off the surface, gently curling and swaying in the light breeze of the closing door. The woman placed the bowl down onto the tiles below, along with some small towels she carried. She drew another bucket out from under the table, and placed it at her feet. Then suddenly, she wrinkled her nose, apparently hit by the stinky onslaught of smells for the first time, especially now that the Diaper was open. Fost felt his face go hot, flushing. “I’m so sorry Miss.” he said out of sheer embarrassment. Normally in Luin, whenever changes happened, it wasn’t seen as a big deal. Everyone was used to it, and it was even enjoyable. Mommies and Daddies made their Little feel at ease, treating it, rightly so, as something that was perfectly natural. Clearly, here in the Dullen Isles, people weren’t so used to hiding their reactions. The woman seemed to blush a little as well. “It’s fine Sir … sorry I forgot your name.” “Fost.” he said, thankful for the change of subject. He relaxed a little at that. “I’m Laria,” the woman said. Laria. She was slightly shorter than Fost, though the height of the table seemed almost perfect for her. Dark skin glistening with the sweat of the forge, Laria wiped her forehead. She moved her already rolled sleeves up her arm a little, and bent down to soak one of the rags in the warm water. Then, she got back up, brushed some of her black, curling hair out of the way, and opened the front of the diaper. Even by Little standards, Fost had to admit it was horrid. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t had a blowout, especially considering the dirty thing had been leaking for a good hour now. Lara scrunched up her nose again, and this time even Fost was forced to follow suit. “I am so sorry.” he said, his ears, cheeks, and neck burning in shame. “No no!” Laria said, somewhat less calmly than he was hoping to hear, “It happens to everyone.” Not around here though, thought Fost shamefully. She began to wipe him down, taking the wet cloth and squeezing the dirty water into the empty bucket. It felt amazing. After all he had been through over the past few days, to have the icky mess finally coming off him was utterly blissful. He felt light down there, clean, and fresh. He felt like the steam rising from hot water. He felt like the cool currents of the ocean. He felt like a gust of wind in the sky. Fost enjoyed this transcendent experience for a few moments, enjoying the peace, enjoying the silence. He looked to Laria, she was completely consumed in the work, focused and stone-eyed. It was an admirable trait, the likes of which Fost hadn’t seen in a very long time. Although she looked a little uncomfortable, maybe even slightly distracted at times, she continued working diligently. Only for a moment did she break her glance -- catching Fost in the act of looking, then swiftly returning to her task. Fost looked down quickly, not keen to make an awkward situation of it. “So,” Laria said eventually, still intent on her work, “What brings you so far north?” She said it almost absent-mindedly, but there was a quiet chorus of intrigue that rose from behind. Should he tell the truth? Should he say why he was here? He couldn’t see it causing much harm. It was just a book after-all. Besides, he concluded, maybe she can help. “Oh, I’m looking for a book.” said Fost, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “For a client down south.” “Oh Really? What does it look like? Maybe I can point you the right way.” Laria asked. Fost took a moment to answer. Not because he didn’t want to tell her, but rather because he didn’t know what to tell her. He couldn’t recall the woman mentioning what it looked like, other than it’s contents and… “It has a symbol on the front, I think. A sword on a shield, engraved into the cover.” he said, satisfied at the little victory over his memory. Laria, who was in the middle of her final wipes, stopped suddenly. She seemed to squint slightly, as if trying to remember something. Then, shaking her head, she went back to work. “Sorry, I can’t remember seeing anything like that.” she said. Eventually, she finished cleaning Fost down, his sparkly clean bare bottom on the cold table. Laria shuffled through Fost’s bag and found a clean diaper from the stash he left Bermont with, they were well stocked in the Capital. “Okay, bottom up.” Laria said, hoisting Fost’s legs upwards and laying out the white padding underneath. Fost noticed something different about her now. Whilst she was still focused on the task at hand, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she was struggling to maintain composure. The blacksmith was starting to wiggle a little, moving from side to side, almost as if… “You okay?” Fost asked as Laria did the tapes of his diaper up. “Yeah, I’m … I’m fine.” she said unconvincingly. Fost had seen that struggle before. It was common in these parts, where people weren’t so relaxed about just going in their diaper -- Laria was doing a pee-pee dance. “If you need to go, you should just go.” he said, as calmly as possible. “You do wear some sort of protection around here don’t you?” Laria looked up, seeming somewhat startled. Then, she nodded quickly. “Well I - ahhh - I should really be going in the potty.” She was really moving now that she didn’t have to hide it, blushing slightly as she gave into the full pee-pee dance. With a hand pressed between her legs, Laria wiggled up and down, stepping quickly from foot to foot. She was starting to go even redder too, though Fost didn’t know if it was from the strain or embarrassment. He should do something. Help somehow. “Would you like me to go and get the potty for y-” “No!” She almost shouted, before Fost could finish asking. “No, it’s … it’s fine…” Laria’s struggle seemed to hit a limit, and suddenly she stopped. “It’s fine, ahhhhhh.” as she spoke, her legs seemed to go weak, and a relieved smile crept onto her face. Fost couldn’t help but smile amusedly as well. She lent slightly forward, breathing heavily, for about two minutes, completely in her own world. Silence filled the room, so much so that Fost could hear the gentle trickle of a quickly filling pull-up. “You … err … you done?” he asked. Laria, clearly remembering she wasn’t alone, snapped her head up and shot up straight. “Heh, erm, sorry about that.” she said, blushing slightly. Fost had to suppress a giggle. It was strange to hear someone apologise for something that happened all the time in the south. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” he said. Laria looked down to inspect the damage, and her long hair fell in front of her face. “Would you like a change or…?” Fost trailed off, watching Laria to see what she’d say. “Um…” “Oh, sorry, is that not … do you not do that here? In the south we generally swap and stuff but --” Fost spoke quickly, muttering that last bit. Laria interjected before he had a chance to finish. “No, we … we do that here too, for those of us who are still… y’know.” she said. “Oh, cool … that wasn’t … I’m sorry if it was out of line …” “Not at all!” she said, moving her head quickly up, and stepping forward slightly. “It’s fine, I would have asked the same thing.” “Okay, sorry if I …” “No, you don’t need to say sorry …” “Did you … did you errr … you still want me too-” “Yes!” she said quickly, a smile flickering on her face, “Errr, yes … yes please.” Fost’s face was scorching with embarrassment, and it was clear Laria was as well. Fost jumped down and went to find the supplies that Laria kept around, while she jumped onto the table. Then, soaking some clean rags, Fost got to work. Changing a pull-up was much the same as changing a diaper, though the garment was considerably less bulky. Laria had completely soaked through hers, and Fost was, for the second time today, surprised no-one leaked. “Y’know,” he said, taking the heavy pull-up and placing it beside the waste bucket, “You’d make a good Little with how much you soaked this thing.” “And you’d make a good Islander with that quick potty suggestion earlier!” Laria said, eliciting an embarrassed chuckle from Fost. Now that things were a little more comfortable, Laria seemed to open up a bit, and as Fost wiped her down, they talked a little about weapons. “You won’t find many larger ones around here,” Laria said, “They’re bought up quickly and used for war. At steep discounts too…” “I guessed as much, that’s the way things have always been in Luin. Always at war, always ‘acquiring’ weapons. Most non-army folk don’t get a word in.” “Yeah. Although, if you don’t mind me asking, you’re only looking for a book. Why do you need a sword?” Laria asked as Fost did the tapes of her pull-up. “Better safe than sorry, right? Bandits and all sorts on the road.” “Not around here. That’s one of the few good bits about --” DONG. DONG. DONG. A large bell rang through the village outside. Laria snapped up. “Oh no.” she said, and walked out of the room without bothering to put on her pants. Fost watched her go, slightly confused for a moment, and then decided that it would be best to follow her. What in the name of the gods is happening now? He cursed silently. Outside, people were gathering around a bell that stood in the middle of the village. Like Laria, a few of the younger folk were out here with their pull-ups on full show. Fost started to worry a little. This couldn’t be good whatever it was, and he was in a foreign town with foreign people. All around, people in the crowd glared at him. He pushed through the crowd and eventually found Laria, standing at the front. “Laria,” he asked, “what’s going on?” but he didn’t have to wait for an answer. Opposite the small crowd was a group of soldiers on horseback. Like Fost, they all wore bright cloaks, onesies, and each had a distinct diaper-bulge. There were at least thirty of them at the back, all wearing similar clothes to Fost, though with added armour plates here-and-there. Three of the newcomers stood proud and tall at the front. The one in the centre sucked on a pacifier haughtily, looking so utterly regal that he probably thought he shat gold. On his right was a woman, thin faced, and paler than ice. On his left was a man, hooded -- a cloak of deep twilight-blue. Fost felt something strange, like the gears of possibility shifted within him. But then something else caught his eye. Strapped to the hooded man’s waist was a book. A book with a shield and sword engraved on the front. END OF EPISODE 1