WBDaddy

Maybe more like the cult of Scientology? Either way, the plot thickens. And Adam's humiliation gets amplified.

They're cute, but their claim of 5000mL absorbency is dubious. There just isn't enough pulp in that diaper to facilitate that kind of absorbency. I learned the hard way with my PetiteAB experiment that insufficient pulp = nowhere near the real-world absorbency that the SAP number says should be there. If you're not at least 70-30 pulp-SAP, ideally up around 90-10, people aren't going to be happy with your product unless they are legitimately incontinent and only have regular trickles, not full-on floods.

So easy to catch an unsuspecting Little with training chocolates. ?

You say that like it hasn't been great the whole way. But yeah, you're right, the roller coaster ride just keeps going faster and faster from here.

You seem to be having difficulty understanding that sexualizing minors is verboten on this site because it can get the site into a bunch of legal hot water in Europe in a big hurry. So, your request very simply cannot be fulfilled here.

They used to do fluoride treatments when I was a kid, for sure. Never happened when I was an adult, but maybe that speaks to how Emily is viewed and treated by the people to which Joyce chooses to expose her.

She's also perfectly capable of speaking for herself. No one is being attacked here. She expressed regret that what she was thinking was not conveyed in the story, so I offered a suggestion about how to be more effective at conveying her thought process. I struggle with assuming people will pick up on things too, and I have to remind myself that blocking and internal dialogue intertwined with the external dialogue and actions are the simplest way to make sure that I get important points across. There's a chasm of difference between helpful advice and "dissing". Please understand that.

Here's what I see as the takeaway for you, if you're interested. Most of the criticisms I'm seeing here are a function of you needing to do more subtle things. Blocking a piece of dialogue with inner thought bubbles to make us more aware. Having the main character recall something that happened whenever it happened that informs her attitude. "Show don't tell" just means you don't say "well she really hates this person and blah blah" - doesn't mean you don't slowly, as the situation deems necessary, give us a backstory for your main character that makes her actions and speech make sense given the information you've provided. Fun part about that is, the more you build her out, the more you can hint around at blind spots that make her an entirely unreliable narrator, in that the way she perceives what people are doing and their motivations are completely removed from what's actually happening and why.

That last line was such a monster cliffhanger though. You gotta think she crossed a line that will turn that hurt to rage pretty quick there.

Brain cramp. Meant Joyce.

Frankly, I think pushing Emily to show these clothes off to Amy is just a vehicle for Joyce to get Emily more comfortable wearing these clothes on a regular basis, possibly even when they go out.

Gotta make sure you wear your diapers if you want to be in the parade! Can't afford porta-potties with the city budget...

That was rude.

This is a hell of a tightrope to walk; I had to do it in The Pariah to develop dimensionality in the two villains of that story, because there literally was no other way to impart the level of depth I needed to provide the ambiguity I needed especially in the mother's motivations. If you can find a different way to do it, I highly recommend it. Because it's tough, and I made a few mistakes in the process, like rewinding a scene a little bit when I changed perspective, not realizing how jarring it would be to the reader.

Gad, another update?! Not only is it brilliant, but it's threatening to make me look bad for the lack of updates on my own stuff!

I'm glad the pacing suits you. There was a point early on where I felt like I needed to push more stuff into chapters in order to keep the cost down, but with all the delays, I finally decided enough is enough, I need to write my pace and give a great story more than I need to worry about word counts.

Unless your intention was to write a realistic story, don't worry about delivering one. But it is always good to add internal dialogue and blocking and such to make your story more immersive, help the reader understand and possibly identify with characters and their motivations. I have that tendency too, to assume that the reader will pick up on stuff based on the dialogue and actions when sometimes it's not as obvious as I believe it to be. So, good job!

Hey, it might turn out to be Club Med (compared to the jail, anyway)

I apologize for not acknowledging you prior to this over the last several chapters. I am appreciative of your feedback and your continued support. I suspect that, the deeper we go into this, the more you specifically are going to enjoy it, especially as we move into the final arc.

Author's note: Sorry about the delay on this one, had a rough week at work and really didn't get a ton of time to write. Hopefully this update makes it worthwhile. Also, I finally started doing what good writers do and titling my chapters. It really is a useful tool to keep you focused on the mission of the moment. ------------------------------------------------------- 10 - Toiletries Penny sat up and stretched, feeling actually good for the first time in what seemed like forever ago. A good, long sleep in a bed that she wasn’t handcuffed to, not made out of rocks, felt like life itself had hit the reset button. Through the fence on her window, she could see just a glimpse of the incredible foliage outside, and she wondered if the facility ever allowed the patients to go out there. She made up her mind to raise that question today. To the side of her bed sat last night’s dinner tray, untouched. She got up, used the bathroom, rinsed her hands off, bemoaning the lack of soap, and sat down on her bed again. She lifted the plastic cloche and cringed at cold mashed potatoes, overcooked green beans, and a brick of salisbury steak with gravy. As hungry as she was right now, she was glad she didn’t wake up to eat that nasty slop. Though it didn’t bode well for the menus to come. Screw it, go take a shower, see if she could find some coffee. Opening her door, she found a pile waiting for her on the other side. Two towels, another gown, a plastic bag of what looked like underwear, and toiletries - soap, shampoo, toothbrush and toothpaste. She scooped it all up and set it down on her bed. She grabbed the toiletries and the towels, figuring she could change when she got back to the room. Out of the room and up to the nurse’s stations she went, but when she got there, she recognized no one. “Good morning, uh, Penelope is it?” a heavy-set woman spoke from behind the counter. “Yeah, uh, it’s Penny, please. Where’s Adweta?” “It’s five thirty, Penny. The day nurses aren’t due in for another hour and a half. Heck, you’re the first one up this morning!” “Well, yeah, I guess I kinda went to bed early. Anyway, I was hoping to get a shower…?” “Of course, go right ahead.” The woman waved her arm down the hall. “Make sure you leave your towels at your door so they get washed.” Showering in what was essentially a girls’ locker room by herself was an eerie affair, no sound but the echoing of water raining down on her and dripping to the floor. But the water was hot, and there was plenty of it, and after three days without one, she didn’t mind taking her time and languishing, especially without the self-consciousness of others being in the room with her. After her shower, she returned to her room. The halls were still devoid of patients. Those other girls, they were fucking mental cases. They were “patients”. Not her. She closed her door, stripped yesterday’s gown off, and put a clean one on from the pile. She opened the package of panties and cringed. Cotton granny panties, with a high waist and actual leg cuffs, a far cry from the satin bikini bottoms she wore routinely. With a sigh, she slid them up her legs, marveling at how they rode up over her bellybutton. These were more like bike shorts than panties! Still, they were clean, something else she hadn’t had in three days. Well, let’s see about that coffee, then. She stepped back out into the hallway and up to the nurse’s station. “Can I help you, Penny?” the same woman asked. “Um, I was wondering if I could get some coffee somewhere?” The woman laughed. “There hasn’t been coffee on this ward for staff or patients the entire time I’ve worked here. I’ve got a pot of herbal tea over here I don’t mind sharing, if you’d like.” Herbal tea? Penny winced in spite of herself as she thought once more about Delia and felt a sense of loss flow through her. “It’s not that bad, really,” the lady laughed. “No, just… my friend back in New Sodom used to make the best herbal tea from plants she grew in her rooftop garden. I miss her.” “Well, I don’t grow my own herbs or anything, but it’s still pretty good tea. I’ll pour you a cup.” The lady stood and turned to the counter behind her, filling a small paper cup with dark green tea and bringing it back over to set it on the half-wall in front of Penny. “My name’s Bernice, by the way.” “Thank you, Bernice.” Penny took the cup and gently sipped at the steaming hot liquid. It didn’t taste the same as Delia’s, but it wasn’t bad. Better than nothing, she supposed. “Now, it’s still not quarter after six yet, so you can go back and hang out in your room, or you can watch TV for a while in the rec room. I’ve got paperwork to do, so I need to get busy.” “Sure, thanks.” Hint taken. Penny made her way back to the group area and turned on the TV. Televangelist. She changed the channel. Another televangelist. She changed it again. Morning news. Well, that was better than being preached at. It must have been some sort of local news, as most of what they talked about was events happening around the area. A county fair - she had no idea what that was. They had street fairs in New Sodom, but Penny never had any money to spend, so she never went. A church potluck, boring. Did these people even talk about news going on elsewhere? “Hey there. You’re up early.” Maribeth’s voice came from directly beside Penny, taking her by surprise. She turned and… wow… Maribeth with her hair wrapped up in one towel and her torso in the other was… hot! “Oh… uh… hi!” Penny stumbled, kicking herself for her awkwardness. “Already got my shower in, so I was just… uh… watching the news…” “I can tell, your hair’s still damp. Yeah, this news channel is the only one they let us watch.” Maribeth rolled her eyes. “Don’t they like, talk about anything other than craft fairs and church services?” Penny turned back to see a reporter standing in front of yet another church, interviewing what looked like a pastor’s wife. “Nah. Staff doesn’t think outside world news is good for our treatment, at least not without it being filtered through a TV pastor.” “Wow. So I gotta get my news about New Sodom from Jerry Falwell the fifth or something?” Penny rolled her eyes. “New Sodom, huh? Is that where you’re from?” Maribeth grinned like it was a dirty secret. “Yeah, born and raised. How about you?” “I lived in Brunswick my whole life. The idea of a girlfriend from the wrong side of the tracks is kinda hot, though. What was it like living in Sin City East?” Once again, the girl’s forwardness was flummoxing Penny. “Uh… I don’t know. I mean, I never saw real trees or grass before they sent me up here. Do they ever let us go outside?” “Sure, once you earn a certain privilege level. I’m sure your primary nurse will go over it with you, probably this morning at check-in. Didn’t they give you Adweta?” “Yeah. She’s nice enough I guess.” “Trust me, be grateful. Georgia’s a real battleaxe. You get feisty with her, she drops you like that.” Maribeth snapped her fingers for emphasis. “Jennifer just beats you over the head with a bible until you do what she says. Sonja pretends to be nice, but she’s always recommending bad shit for you behind your back. She dropped a girl from D-plus privileges - like total run of the campus unsupervised, the best you can do short of being discharged - all the way to where you are right now, R, without even telling her. Just changed it on the board. Kid flipped out when she saw it, wound up getting bagged and tagged.” “Wait, bagged and tagged?” Just the phrase sounded terrifying. “Yeah, the whole staff surrounds you and takes you into the safety room, then puts restraints on you and shoots you up with sedatives so you’ll calm down.” “Maribeth, that is not appropriate dress for common areas, and you’re not respecting space,” a deep voice announced from the door. Penny looked to find an enormous bald man occupying the doorway out to the main halls, his arms folded. Maribeth rolled her eyes and whined, “Alright, alright George, I’m going.” She then quickly turned back to Penny. “Hey, after I get dressed, wanna come outside for a smoke break with me? I’ll sign out the lighter.” “Smoke break? They let you do that here?” Penny was baffled. She hadn’t had a cigarette since she was 16, after she got caught and suspended for the last week of school. Her parents grounded her for the entire summer to make sure she didn’t get any more. Not that she could have afforded a cigarette habit on her waitress’ salary anyway. But it felt sort of naughty, and she liked how flirty Maribeth was being. A hand swept down her shoulder. “Figure it out while I’m gone, okay cutey? I’ll be back!” As if to hammer home that last thought about the flirting. Maribeth got up and left the room, and George spoke up. “Careful how much you believe of what she says. She loves to gossip about the staff and the other patients to new people.” She smiled back at him. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Nice to meet you, George.” “You too, Penny, was it?” “Yeah.” “Gotta finish my rounds. Shift’s almost over. Have a good day, Penny.” And she was by herself again. Six thirty. Time seemed to crawl in this place. The local news was still reporting mundane, uninteresting things like planned work on a traffic light, and a city council meeting about the upcoming parade. Back home, if they didn’t report at least one death, either by execution or by crime, it was a shock. This backwoods town’s biggest crime was probably some out-of-towner running a stop sign. She finally gave up and shut the TV off. Bernice’s tea may not have been the same as Delia’s, but it was still really tasty, and it made her feel warm inside, something she hadn’t since this whole nightmare began. The staffers here seemed nice enough, and she definitely was warming up to Maribeth. Maybe the rest of these kids weren’t so bad. Maybe she could adjust to this place. There was really nothing to do but find out…

I too was thrilled to be greeted by a new chapter of this one. And again, you make the wait worthwhile with a deep and emotive narrative. Lot of ground covered in a tiny window of time. You can, BTW, just right-click in the text box and pick "Paste as Plain Text" or hit Ctrl-Shift-V to ditch the formatting that carries over from your writing software/Google Doc/whatever. What really intrigued me, oddly enough, was a word choice. Glime means to steal a glance. This is a really interesting context for that word. Is the implication that one might steal a glance through the window and be unexpectedly fixated by it? Really cool, either way.

Good to hear (hope it isn't COVID too!) - thankfully you've got the proper equipment available to deal with the runs while you're physically limited.

Because this was actually a commission, I've been balancing the need for word economy with the need to flesh out the story. And yes, at times I've pushed the pace to try and accomplish the first of those objectives. I have some extensive work I need to do on later passages because I pushed it way too fast in sections. Thank you for your feedback. I'm trying to keep the references to present/recent past as light and humorous as possible, because I don't want anyone thinking this is mean-spirited or hostile towards mainstream Christianity or conservatives. I'm glad I was able to accomplish that with you, at least.

As a humiliation top, I just gotta say, I had a sudden impulse to slap the floor with my foot repeatedly over all that itch-scratching.

I've contemplated appending my "commission" ad on Elfy's thread to include a negotiable price on recording for audio books. I'd have to see what people are paying for the computerized version, though.