Cute_Kitten

This Christmas was going to suck. Stuck in a strange country, strange house, and an old battleaxe fond of hitting people with her cane. Uschi's house was much nicer and bigger than their tiny, run down American apartment, but it didn't feel like home. Reila doubted it ever would. She probably wasn't going to get any presents, either. If she did, it would be something sucky like socks. She could use some new Uggs. Maybe a coat- something stylish yet warm. "W-what? H-Han's house?" Sonja squawked, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Torn from her thoughts, Reila's head popped up. Uschi smiled. "The holidays can be lonely on your own. I've been spending Christmas with his family for many, many years. It's become something of a tradition. They invited you and Reila this year, too. We'll be bringing the gluhwein since they like my recipe." Sonja just stared at her great grandmother. She had thought it would be a quiet Christmas- just her, Uschi, and Reila. She'd never thought of how Uschi spent previous holidays all alone. Apparently, the old lady was less alone than she sheemed. "Oh, I don't know what to wear!" She fretted. "Something pretty for Hans." Uschi smiled. Sonja's face went red at that. Reila watched the exchange in German; she took in Sonja's flustered state and Uschi's amusement. Was the old lady teasing her mother? She sighed, shifting her weight and wincing as her bruised bottom protested. She pouted, poking at a spilled bit of cinnamon on the table. Maybe she could get hold of some of that wine? That would improve her Christmas. "Hans has a big family. Many relatives. Little Nicky will be there, too." Uschi added. Reila scrunched her nose up, scowling. One glance at Uschi's blue cane made her think twice about voicing her displeasure out loud. Great, so she was going to be stuck with the gimpy, cross-dressing diaper boy. What about the freaky bitch that had been with him at the parade? She clenched her teeth. That bitch. Thinking of Azrael conjured up an image of cloven hoofprints in the snow. What the hell was that? Boots specifically designed to leave such a mark? An alpine prank to scare little children with? It had been at the Krampuslauf, after all. So obvious and stupid. She snorted; she wasn't falling for it. She rolled her eyes; a joke like that was something Nicky's crazy bitch would do. Reila felt a tap on her arm; she shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Uschi and Sonja stared at her. "What?" "Uschi wants you to go wash up and get to bed early. Tomorrow will be a busy day. She says to make sure you stay in bed since it's Christmas Eve. Santa Claus comes tonight." Sonja smiled a little, speaking in English for her daughter. She knew she had the translation correct, and just chalked the Santa Claus bit up to a joke on Uschi's part, even though Uschi had spoken seriously. "I'm not a little kid." Reila sneered. "I'm an adult." Her purpled butt argued otherwise, aching and hot in her pullup. Uschi frowned in disapproval at Reila's tone and expression. She scooped the spices out of the steaming pot of mulled wine with a small sieve. "Reila, please. Uschi's old and it's been a long day. Just humor her. Give Mommy an easy night for once. Uschi sees you as a child. You really haven't been acting grown up." Sonja's tone was leaden with defeat, expecting an outburst any moment from her daughter. 'Go to hell' was on the tip of Reila's tongue. She shifted ono the chair, her weight rolling onto a particularly fresh bruise. Hot pain burst over her backside like fireworks exploding. She winced and glanced at Uschi, who stirred her mulled wine. Reila didn't want another round with the old bat's cane. She was surprisingly strong and nimble for a fossil. Weren't geriatric people supposed to be slow and fragile? Her blue cane hung nearby in easy reach. Fear strangled her anger. "Whatever. Tomorrow's gonna suck dick, so I don't give a shit." Reila stood fast then cringed as her buttocks spasmed in protest. A few drips of warm pee spurted out. She hunched over, legs squeezed together, clenching with all her might to stop the unexpected, sudden flow. Instead of flouncing out with her head high, Reila shuffled out, hands clutching her crotch with her thighs squeezed together. As the kitchen door swung shut behind Reila, Uschi clucked her tongue and spoke in German. "Little girl's been behaving better, but it might not be enough." "Enough for what?" Sonja asked in confusion, wondering if she'd misunderstood. Uschi just smiled and shook her head. Reila woke with a start. She tensed in the warm cocoon of her blankets, ears straining in the silent night. Only the creaking of the old house in the winter wind could be heard. Uschi and Sonja were sound asleep The window panes rattled and the house groaned its advanced age like an arthritic old man. Thump, thump, thump went something large and heavy across the roof along with a faint jingling. She sucked in a sharp breath, hands fisting in the blankets. What was that? A robber? She recalled all the stories on the American news of burglars who killed their victims to leave no witnesses. Hot urine spurted into her warm, swollen pullup but she barely noticed. Several more thumps then silence. A robber on Christmas Eve? On the steep, snowy and icy roof? Maybe it was just a stray branch from one of the big trees blowing in the wind and hitting into the roof. She looked out the frosty window; branches swayed, but nowhere near hard enough to thump off the roof that hard. It had to be a robber. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She should get up, call 911. What was the emergency number for Germany? Did this backwater shithole even have one? She could call the police station, but she didn't know that number either. The wind died down and the house settled. All was calm. Her heart eventually slowed and she started to think she just imagined the noises. Just part of the house settling down, right? A faint scratching, scrabbling sound echoed from somewhere inside the house, something hard scraping against stone. The robber coming down the chimney. That fucker would be inside any moment to kill them all. If she screamed, she'd give herself away. No time to wake her mom or great great grandmother up. No time to fuck with the phone and wait for help, if she could even get any help. That mother fucker was in the chimney; if she moved fast enough, she could get the drop on him. She could take him out and prove just how much of an adult she was. Then, Uschi and Sonja couldn't bitch about her attitude or her pullups anymore. Her heart lodged in her throat, but she forced a smirk and swung her legs to the floor. The wooden boards were cold under her bare feet and her sodden pullup sagged down her hips, pulled down from the weight of her pee. Cold air slipped between the saggy gaps in the waistband and leg gatherings, brushing over her pee-wet privates. She shivered, yet more pee spurting out. A few drops trickled out of the pull up and down her thighs. She didn't notice; too intent on gathering her courage to stop the murderous robber. The faint scratching in the chimney increased, like mice startled into a scurrying frenzy. Her heart sped up in time with the scraping. Her fingers fumbled with the bedside lamp. She pulled on the small chain with a click then soft yellow light flooded the room. She squinted as her eyes adjusted. She needed a weapon…she cast frantically about the room cluttered with antiques and junk older than Uschi; clutter from the past generations that had called this house home. This wasn't her room; it would never feel like hers. Here, she had no sanctuary, no safespace filled with her familiar, comforting things. Her partially unpacked suitcase lay open, spilling a mix of dirty and clean, balled up clothes on the floor by a dresser. An owl statue perched on top of the dresser next to an old cigar box. She had knocked the owl over in one of her tirades; it was solid and heavy. Perfect for bashing a skull in. Reila tried to tiptoe as quietly as she could, but the heavy sag of her saturated pullup forced her into a wide waddle. Scowling, she lifted her mint green nightshirt and yanked the pullup off. It plopped to the floor with a squishy thud. Cold air washed over her now bare, pee-damp privates; she shivered. A few more drops of pee trickled down her thighs as she rushed to the dresser. The owl felt like a heavy block of cement. Solid and reassuring. The scraping sounds in the chimney started up again, sounding lower this time. The burglar was working his way down; soon he' be loose in the house and she'd be screwed. She hurried through the darkened house, her nightshirt fluttering around her hips, inner thighs sticky with drying urine. She clutched the owl statue to her chest as she fumbled in the dark, stumbling and bumping into walls, doors, and furniture in her rush. Weak moonlight spilled through the windows, providing her with a little bit of light to see by as she fumbled through the house. The living room was dark and silent as the rest of the house. Even the dark shadows cast by the moonlight were still. The Christmas tree in the corner loomed like a giant, shaggy monster. Odd green and red lights shone from up in the chimney. A weird flashlight? The light spilling out from the chimney cast sharp shadows in the gloom. Bits of soot, dust and brick rained down into the clean fireplace. A cloud of dust swirled up. The scratching grew louder and louder as the intruder drew closer and closer. More dust and bits fell. Reila's heart thudded. Her legs trembled as she slunk to the fireplace. The muscles in her arms ached under the owl's heavy weight as she struggled to lift it up over her head, ready to bash the would-be burglar. So close to the fireplace, dust tickled her nose and she struggled not to sneeze. She bit her lip, eyes watering. A faint jingling could be heard underneath all that scratching and scraping. The noises were right above her head. "HO! HO! HO!" A vaguely familiar, feminine voice boomed out. The hem of a long, red skirt trimmed in black fur appeared. Legs kicked, making the hem flutter and revealing two huge, polished cloven hooves. "Up on the housetop, click click click. Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick!" The feminine voice sang out sweetly. The jingling of bells grew louder, chiming along with the melody. The hooves landed with a thump, skirt fluttering and dust cloud billowing out of the fireplace. "Well, not exactly. But I've got his grandson with me. Gruss von Krampus! Greetings from Krampus! That's more appropriate." The smug, goading voice suddenly clicked. Azrael. Azrael. Reila opened her mouth to scream but choked, coughing on the dust and ash stirred up from the fireplace. The weight of the owl statue she held above her head pulled her off balance; she wobbled as she coughed. One deep, chest wracking cough sent her sprawling to the floor with a crash and jarring her bladder. She soaked her nightgown. The statue rolled away from her. Pain radiated from her bruised derriere and her skull. "Merry Christmas, Baby Riley! What a naughty little girl you are, sneaking out of bed. And you took your diapee off and pee-peed all over yourself! Naughty, naughty!" Azrael's voice radiated pleasure. Reila groaned, still unaware she'd wet herself when she'd fallen. She blinked several times to clear her blurred vision. Azrael loomed tall and imposing over her sprawled body. The long red velvet skirt covered her hooves. Curly black hair tumbled in thick waves to her waist, held back by a festive green ribbon. Polished horns curled out from her skull. So that's what the bitch was hiding under her hat during the Krampuslauf. Horns and hooves. Reila stared in a surreal haze, not quite believing what she was seeing. Her mind was sluggish and numb. Strangest of all was the bright Christmas green, oversized baby carrier holding Nicky bundled to her chest. His legs dangled limp and useless in the air. He wore a red velvet sleeper with padded green mittens and booties. A green bib trimmed in white hung from his neck while a red infant's bonnet drowned in layers of ruffly white lace obscured much of his pretty face. He sucked on a red and white pacifier. He looked like an overgrown infant, helpless and vulnerable swaddled to Azrael's chest. Nicky whimpered softly as he sucked on his paci. His large doe eyes shone with sadness as he gazed down at Reila. She'd never seen the disabled, girly boy look so miserable, as if his heart overflowed with sorrow. Her head throbbed and she moaned. The dust settled and she could breathe freely again. The strange red and green light that had flashed from the chimney grew brighter. Red and green sparkles fluttered down the chimney like a horde of Christmas fireflies. She tried to raise her hands to rub her eyes, but her body would not cooperate. Her body tingled, feeling numb, as if her appendages had fallen asleep. Had she hurt herself when she fell? Her eyes flew wide open in panic. Her heart sped up and another spurt of pee squirted out onto the floor, warm and wet on her thighs. This time she felt it. She whimpered. "Aww. Don't be scared, baby. You didn't hurt yourself. It's just an effect of my Christmas magic." Azrael grinned, revealing shark sharp pearly whites. Her smile was not reassuring at all. She tapped her chin thoughtfully; her eyes were fervent with excitement. "On second thought, considering what I'm here to do, maybe you should be scared. I do so enjoy that expression on your face." Nicky whimpered again, louder this time. "Shh." Azrael soothed him in a gentle coo, pressing on the shield of his pacifier. She kissed the top of his bonnet covered head. "You know she has this coming. She's had multiple chances and blew each one spectacularly." Her eyes glinted, almost seeming to glow in the gloom as they locked onto Reila's own. "Baby Riley here has been a very, very naughty girl. Soo naughty." Azrael almost moaned. "The fat man himself said so." Nicky shook his head as if to deny Az's words. He looked right into Reila's eyes, too, as tears welled up in his own. He sucked noisily on the rubber nipple filling his mouth; some drool dribbled down his chin and onto his bib. Gone was the fragile, disabled girly-boy, replaced by a big baby girl. Just like Rachel. "The fucking hell is going on? You're mental! What did you do to me, you fucking bitch? Fix it! Help! Mom! Grandma! HELP!! MOOOM! GRANDMA! HELP! MOMMY!" Reila still had control of her mouth and she used it, screaming in growing, blind terror at the top of her lungs, head thrashing from side to side and banging off the floor in her growing panic. She would have thrashed her arms and legs, gotten up and ran if her body would obey her. No one came. Reila screamed and screamed until her lungs ached and her chest heaved. Her face was a red, ruddy mess from er exertions, streaked with snot and tears. Nicky winced, his own tears falling. He looked up at Azrael with pleading eyes. She kissed his forehead and rubbed his mitten covered hands. She smiled as she watched Reila. As Reila screamed on, Nicky squirmed, whimpering softly and crying. Throughout it all, Azrael remained calm, her smile jolly. Once Reila finally ran out of energy to keep screaming, Az unstrapped Nicky. She removed him from the infant sling and set him down on the floor. She took off the sling and shook out her red skirt. The long hem fluttered, revealing her hooves once more. Then she bent over a small, red Santa sack she unslung from her back. She dug through the velvet bag. What she pulled out seemed too large to fit in the bag; it was like Mary Poppin's carpet bag, or Hermione's purse. She pulled out a large cloth and metal contraption. She unfolded it with a series of metallic clicks to reveal an oversized baby bouncer. Nicky watched her work with big, teary eyes. His legs splayed awkwardly on the floor, flopping limply when she set him down. He covered his ears with his thickly padded mittens and sucked hard on his binky. Az picked him up as if he weighed no more than an actual infant. She kissed his wet cheek and wiped away his tears. "Nicky. You knew she had this coming. She won't be allowed to continue on like this. And you and Rachie will have a new baby cousin to play with!" She cooed as she laid him in the bouncer, strapping him in securely. His diaper bulged against the snaps of his onesie. He gazed up at Az, whimpering softly one last time, his eyes begging her. For just a moment, her face softened with a maternal look. "Sweetie. My baby." She bent in for more kisses on his soft cheeks. He relaxed under her affections but didn't smile. "You know the head tub o' lard himself gave me the greenlight for this." He nodded sadly in resignation as she chuckled darkly. She stood up, turning and focusing on a panting, snot covered Reila. Her grin turned feral, lips pulling back to bare her teeth like a predatory animal. “Are you finished with your wittle tantrum, Baby Riley? Get it all out of your system? As much as I enjoy your screeching, you’re upsetting the baby.” Azrael grinned down at Reila. The whites of Reila’s eyes showed in the gloom, heart thudding in her ears. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt swollen, stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her throat burned from all the screaming. She was too terrified to register the teasing, degrading taunts in Az’s voice. “Now, I’m sure you have many questions. The ones I visit on Christmas usually do. Where would you like to begin? Oh, I see. Yuck. Some naughty girl took her diapee off and made piddles on Uschi’s lovely floor.” Az’s voice was sickly, sugary sweet. Her cloven hooves clopped on the hard wood floor softly as she approached. The bells on her horns jingled softly. Reila wanted to scream all over again, her mind numb with terror. A sense of surreal washed over her, like she was trapped in a nightmare. This could not be happening. Her wide eyes focused on Az’s face. On her feral grin and sharp looking teeth. “You don’t want me to touch you. You’re scared of me. Smart baby. We can wait a little longer- it’s not like you’re going anywhere, and there’s already a pee puddle on the floor.” Az shrugged. “I guess we should start with proper introductions, anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “Azrael Ruprecht, Christmas Spirit.” She curtseyed low in a mocking bow with a flourishing sweep of her skirt, soft clop of hooves, and jingling bells. “Eldest granddaughter of Krampus. Got a dash of Kringle on my father’s side, and a whole lot of demon on my mother’s.” Her grin widened eerily at the last part, as if she were particularly proud of the demonic part of her heritage. That explained the horns and hooves. Reila’s gaze focused on the curling, shiny horns hung with tiny silver bells. The polished metal reflected the glowing green and red sparkles that still filtered down through the chimney and lit up the living room. They made Azrael seem to glow with an unholy light. She shivered reflexively, more pee squirting out but she never felt it. Az watched the drops of fresh pee ripple into the yellow puddle around Reila’s hips and buttocks. She threw her head back and laughed in delight. “I’m gonna take care of your piddles, baby. Just like I take care of my own baby. Well, Nicky’s not really my baby. He’s a few years younger than me. But I take care of him. Kind of a surrogate mommy since his real mommy’s a lazy cunt who didn’t want to be burdened with a pants shitting, crossdressing tard. That’s what you like to call him, isn’t it, Reila?” Az’s tone went from taunting to vicious and malevolent. “Enough!” Nicky cried out in German. His pacifier fell out as he spoke. Liquid sparkled in the corners of his big, dark eyes. “Azrael. Please.” He softened his tone, squirming with a loud crinkle of his diaper. The bouncer swayed gently with his movements. His puffy pink lips shimmered with drool, looking like they were coated with lip gloss and making him look even girlier. Az crossed her arms under her voluptuous breasts. “What? I’m just schooling the brat. She deserves to know the score, don’t you think?” She bared her teeth tauntingly at Nicky. Reila whimpered helplessly. Nicky’s eyes flicked down to Reila, then up to Azrael. “You’re gloating.” He spoke even softer, more statement of fact than accusation. “And I don’t like being called a tard.” He mumbled, barely audible. Az scrunched her nose then sighed, arms falling to her side. “Fine. I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I went too far.” Nicky snorted softly then looked sternly up at her. His glare was ruined by his lacey bonnet, bib, pacifier, mittens and obvious diaper bulge. He tried to look intimidating and reprimanding but all he could manage was a cute pout. Az laughed, a deep-belly, warm Kringle laugh of delight. “You’re precious, baby.” She took a soft clop forward toward him, momentarily overcome by the urge to scoop him up and cuddle him. Nicky blushed, squirming some more shyly. His diaper rustled and crinkled while the bouncer swayed. “We should get this over with. Poor Riley’s scared.” “She has a right to know what’s going on. It’s so much more fun when they understand.” “You’re going to drag this out and torment her.” He pouted up at Az some more. “What’s wrong with that? I’m working on Christmas Eve.” “We always work on Christmas Eve. It’s our night.” “Exactly! So, I should be able to have a little fun. It’s not like I get to drag her down to hell.” Az sounded particularly disappointed. “That’s barbaric! I’m glad Grandpa stopped that horrible tradition.” Nicky shivered. “Bah, it cut down on the crime rate.” Az defended. Reila listened, barely comprehending the rapid German let alone the meaning behind the foreign words. Her bewildered mind was as numb as her body, lost in a fog of shock. She stared dumbly up at Azrael’s horns. This couldn’t be real. Any moment, she was going to wake up from this nightmare. “Az. Please. Hurry. I don’t like this. I really don’t. “ His voice warbled, thick with tears as he looked down at Reila. “I’m sorry.” He whispered to her, seeming to crumple in on himself. Azrael snorted derisively and sneered down at Reila. “This little baby-” She lightly pinched one of Nicky’s pink cheeks “is grandson of the fat man himself. The head honcho of Christmas. You’ve certainly heard of him. Kris Kringle. Santa Claus. Saint Nick. Father Christmas.” She grinned at the disbelief in Reila’s eyes. “Oh yes, the fatso in red is real. And Nicky here is from the most powerful line if Yuletide spirits. Even if he’s a defective disappointment.” Nicky whimpered in protest, making Azrael flinch and look guilty, as if her mouth had run away with her again. “Sorry! Alright, alright. I’ll get on with it.” She pouted at Nicky’s watery gaze, tenderly brushing his tears away and pushing his pacifier back into his mouth. She turned back to Reila. “Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.” She circled the prone, helpless girl on the floor. Her hooves clopped and the tiny bells on her horns jingled, making her almost sound like a reindeer. She leered down at Reila, teeth bared in a feral grin. “This is quite real, I assure you. Reila, you’ve been a very, very naughty girl. So naughty you’ve left the Great Bearded Butterball no choice but to put you on the permanent naughty list. Which results in the presence of yours truly.” Azrael picked up the red velvet Santa bag and pulled out various items; a travel tub of baby wipes, a tube of diaper cream, a bottle of baby powder, and a huge candy cane striped diaper like Nicky wore. She frowned, still feeling around in the bag. The more she reached in, the more the bag stretched unnaturally until she was poking her head in. Reila blinked as she watched the bag expand more than it should have been capable of. The bag was too small to fit that much Christmas demon in it. That was the same bag Azrael had pulled the adult sized baby bouncer out of. This was some crazy Mary Poppins shit. “Ah, here we are. Now the fun starts.” Az crowed triumphantly, holding aloft a pair of pliers like a trophy. Nicky whimpered, shutting his eyes tight. Confusion clouded Reila’s gaze. What was she going to do with those? Do something so she couldn’t take her diaper off herself? She heard Nicky’s diaper crinkle loudly as he squirmed in his bouncer. Her eyes flew to the plastic backed, candy cane monstrosity. Nicky’s damned diapers. She remembered the suffocating, waddling bulk and deafening crinkle. Now she was going to be imprisoned in one. She snapped. “Oh hell no! You’re not diapering me, you fucking psychotic bitch!” She snarled, trying to move her body. It wouldn’t obey. Her head wouldn’t even turn. The numb, tingling sensation from when she first fell and inhaled the Christmas magic still spread all over her body. It crept up from her neck, making her face tingle. As if it was growing stronger, not wearing off. She screamed in frustration. “Scream all you want, Riley baby. No one will hear you. Christmas magic muffles all sounds. It’s how the Fat Fart goes unheard. I let you hear me, but Uschi and Sonja are fast asleep. Dreaming of sugar plums and festive shit like that.” Az smiled and flapped open the gigantic diaper. The thick plastic rectangle crinkled like an army of grocery bags. Reila’s voice was still hoarse and sore from her earlier screaming. Her mouth was dry and she panted heavily, no longer able to scream but still full of fear and anger. The tingling numbness spread up from her throat, all along her tongue and teeth. Like her mouth was full of novocaine. She glowered up at Az for all she was worth, trying to scare her. Nicky met Reila’s gaze once, stared at her for several long seconds as if he was seeing what was in heart. His pretty doll face crumpled and he looked away. “Finished with your tantrum already? Such a noisy baby. Diapees are the least of your worries.” Az paused, fluffing out the diaper and stroking the soft padding inside just waiting to swaddle Reila. She laid the diaper down on the floor, well away from Reila’s pee puddle. She came closer to Reila, locking gazes with her. “You’ve done a good job fucking up your life. You were on a very bad road. Just like your daddy. Think of me as the construction crew here to reroute you. Fix you up. Though from your point of view, I really will be fucking things up for you.” She laughed. “Feking bish!” Fucking bitch. Reila croaked. If her mouth wasn’t so dry, she would have drooled. Anger boiled over her fear at the slurred speech but her body was too tired, too sore from screaming to voice her raging emotions. She couldn’t move her body, and now she couldn’t talk. She ignored the fear, blocked it out with anger by focusing on the cause. On Azrael. “Tsk, tsk. Such a potty mouth. I was going to be nice and clean you up. Diaper you first...but screw it. Let’s start with the fun part. Where did I put those pliers?” She felt around. The metal bells on her horns reflected the twinkling red and green sparkles filling the air with Christmas magic. At the word pliers, Nicky whimpered. “Az. Please. Is that necessary?” He trembled in his bouncer, padded mittens waving helplessly like he wanted to pull Reila away from Azrael. Like he wanted to stop Az, but he was stuck, secure and helpless as a baby in his bouncer. “Please. Az. Don’t do it. Please. Rachel didn’t have it done. “ Az stiffened at Nicky’s soft, desperate pleading. She turned to look at the big, girly baby. “Nicky. We’ve discussed this. Emma Jean screwed up with Rachel. Your grandpa even approved of my plan. It’s happening.” She snatched up the pliers from the floor by the other diaper supplies. Nicky deflated, tears trickling down his cheeks in distress. He glanced once at Reila. “I’m sowwy.” He covered his eyes with his mittens as if he couldn’t bear to watch.

"Oh, hey, it's Hans!" Nicky chirped, following Reila's glower. If he didn't have to hold on to his crutches, he would have raised a hand and waved. "He makes a convincing St. Nick. The kiddies just love him." Az's lips curled up with mischief. "So does your mom. She's the one next to Uschi? By the blue cane?" "Yes, that's Sonja." Nicky confirmed. Reila shifted, squeezing her thighs together to quell the gentle insistence of her bladder. She was going to have to pee, and soon. She could hold it; she'd kept her panties dry for two whole days. In Uschi's house, always near a bathroom. Maybe she should've worn a pull-up? Doing so would only prove that bastard Hans right; she really did need diapers, just like Nicky. Her eyes narrowed as she watched her mother and great, great grandmother laugh at something Hans had said. "They look good together. Even Uschi likes him." Az's voice whispered in her ear; she could smell the mulled wine and spices on her breath as the girl leaned down, their heads almost touching. "Shut the fuck up!" Reila jerked away with a snarl. Az stood back up to her imposing height while Nicky tilted his head back, frowning up at her. Az grinned at Reila. "Temper, temper. Somebody doesn't want mommy dating." "I'm fucking sick of that whore always dragging home a new dick of the week every time I turn around. She brings me to this fucking frozen hellhole and she still doesn't change." Reila stomped a foot, wishing she had stayed with her mother and great great grandmother so she could chase Hans off. Sonja's attempts at dating consisted of going out to bars and bringing home one night stands. Then she would lecture Reila on her promiscuous clothing. "Fucking hypocrite." "Aww. Poor baby." "Azrael! Enough, please. It obviously upsets her." Nicky shifted on his crutches with a loud crinkle of his diaper, then leaned back against Az as he started to grow tired. She tightened her hold around his tiny waist, her taller body supporting some of his slight weight. "My mother was never around much, yet I'm not hell bent on making her life miserable." Az rolled her eyes at what she considered to be Reila's immature antics. "Your mother didn't want you, either, and you don't throw tantrums like an overgrown toddler." Nicky closed his eyes, wincing as if she'd physically jabbed him. "It's….she..it…was just…hard with a kid like me…." He mumbled softly, pressing his slender, feminine body further into Az, seeking comfort as he weakly tried to excuse his mother. "She left because of you, Nicky. She ditched cuz she didn't wanna be saddled with a sickly kid." Az's voice was flat and matter-of-fact. Nicky winced again, each word hurting like a physical blow. His long, inky lashes trembled against his alabaster skin. He bit his soft, pink lip, trying to stop himself from crying. He turned his head to the side, wishing he could turn around and bury his face in Az's shoulder. Reila partially listened, turning her attention away from the asshole flirting with her rutting slut of a mother. Az's words hammered into her; her father unexpectedly popped into her own thoughts. He had been in an out of their lives when Reila was little, before landing himself locked up for life. It was her fault he never stayed. As a little girl, she was not good enough, not pretty enough to make him love her enough to stay. She had chased her daddy away. As a budding preteen, she had stopped caring about being good. Being good, trying to please others got her nowhere. So, fuck them all. She'd look out for herself and fuck everyone else. "I-I'm s-sorry." Nicky whispered, his soft, trembling voice was drowned out by the clanking bells, hooting monsters and shrieking crowd. "Nicky." Azrael hugged him tight. She grimaced, realizing her ill-chosen words had wounded the fragile boy. "Shh. I'm sorry." She gently wiped his tears away with a gloved hand. She leaned down to press a kiss to each soft cheek. "I didn't mean it like that. Her problems are her own, and nothing you did. But I'm glad she left you." "A-az?" Nicky sniffled a little, swallowing his tears and wiping at his eyes. "If she stayed, you'd never have come into my life." Nicky blushed, closing his eyes again. He said nothing, but a small, shaky smile tugged at his plump, pink lips. Az saw and she smiled as well, nipping playfully at Nicky's ear, making him giggle and try to squirm. "Go get a room. You're as disgusting as them." Reila jerked her head in the direction of Hans and Sonja. Az raised her head, annoyed at being interrupted. "Still upset about mommy? You wanna talk about it, baby pants?" "It..it might help you feel better." Nicky offered with a sweet smile, trying to salvage goading, to turn her teasing into an actual offer of help. Reila's face flushed at the term. "Shut up! He's the pants shitter, not me!" "And you're the pants pisser. Nicky's a good baby who keeps his diapers on. Unlike someone else." Azrael bared her sharp-looking teeth in a feral smile. "Shut your fucking mouth!" Reila snarled, raising her fist threateningly. Nicky's eyes widened in fear. "Please." He spoke softly, wishing he could run, but he was trapped between the two females and only had Azrael for protection. He looked into Reila's burning eyes, seeing that defensive hatred blazing. He shrank back, pressing into Azrael. "Don't you want your mother to have someone special in her life?" He asked boldly, trying to distract her. "I'll take that as a no. How very selfish of you." Azrael cooed in a mocking sing-song voice, taunting her. "Baby pants gonna punch me? You really should stop and check that childish temper, or you're going to wind up on the permanent naughty list." "SHUT UP! I don't care about that whore!" Reila turned her attention to Nicky, aiming for his face and swung. Instead of defusing her, he'd only managed to set her off and redirect her anger onto him. He was smaller than Azrael, and he would not be able to dodge. A perfect punching bag for her anger. She could hit him then knock Azrael over. Besides, he was a boy and it was okay for girls to hit boys, but he couldn't hit her back. Azrael moved unnaturally fast, moving from behind Nicky to in front of him and catching Reila's fist mid-swing. Her hand was bigger, covering Reila's own. She squeezed, crunching Reila's clenched fingers, trapping her hand. "What the fucking hell? Let go!" Reila snarled, trying to jerk her hand free but Az's grip was like a metal vice. "You were going to hit Nicky." Azrael stared down at Reila incredulously. "You were really going to hit my helpless baby." Azrael bared her sharp teeth in a silent, threatening snarl as she glowered down at Reila, towering over the shorter girl. "You were mad at me, and you took it out on Nicky. He can't fight back." Her voice deepened to a guttural growl as she leaned down, face close to Reila's. Fear washed over Reila, drowning out her anger. Her eyes widened at the promise of violence and retribution in Az's eyes, and at her increasing need to pee. Her bladder twinged more in urgency. Even not drinking much, her body still produced urine. After a period of time, she would have to pee. She never planned on being gone this long. Her inner thighs pressed together, squeezing her bladder muscles to prevent herself peeing her pants. She tugged, trying to free the wrist Azrael held, but the bitch's grip was like iron. "Let me go!" She snarled right back, her ferocity undermined by a high pitch tone of fear and desperation. "You're a selfish, childish little bitch who is to stupid to check your infantile temper. " Az's snarl curled into a feral, mocking grin. "Grow up, little girl, or you're going to end up on the permanent naughty list-" "LET GO!" Reila tugged, desperation growing. She leaned backwards; Azrael merely raised her arm, pulling up on Reila's arm, forcing her up onto her tiptoes. Reila yelped at the sudden, jerking motion. She teetered, off balance. She managed to regain her footing in the snow just as her bladder twinged. She hunched forward, legs squeezed together to stop the flow just in time. Az tilted her head back and laughed as if she knew Reila was struggling not to pee. The sharp, taunting bark of her laughter was louder than the mingled shouts, squeals, jingling bells and rattling chains of the approaching parade. "Az, please. It's alright." Nicky pleaded tugging on Az's coat. She stopped laughing, but she didn't let go of Reila's hand. "FUCKING BITCH!" Reila found secure footing, legs squeezed together. She swung with her free hand, punch aimed up at Azrael's face. If the psychotic cunt wouldn't let her go, Reila would make her let go. With a sneer and roll of her eyes, Azrael easily caught Reila's swing with a casual flick of her wrist. "I've had it with you. Right here, right now, I'm going to-" "Azrael! It's not time!" Nicky hollered, tugging insistantly on Reila's sleeve as if eh was fearful Az was going to let something very important slip. "Nicky." Az whirled, sneer plastered to her face as if her patience strained. Nicky flinched, dainty hands dropping from Az's coat. "Does somebody want his binky?" The snarl made her coo sound mocking and menacing. Nicky lowered his head. He balanced on his crutches, unable to take a step back. One of Az's hands slipped under Nicky's red coat, squeezing his thickly padded rump through his pants. His diaper crinkled softly. "I don't feel any squishies yet. You didn't go poopies." Nicky's face flushed red. "Az!" He whined softly. Reila rubbed her sore wrists. Her first instinct was to laugh at the freak girl treating the gimp crossdresser like a big baby, but Azrael sounded so much like an evil Emma Jean that Reila's face paled with memories of that awful flight and that horrible nightmare of a woman in neon pink velour. When she had been the big baby in a big baby diaper, painted as mentally disabled. The cheers and squeals of the crowd, roars of the Krampuses, the clanging of bells and rattling of chains smacking off concrete, all the noise faded as Reila drowned in remembered humiliation. Her heart quickened, face as red as Nicky's. Hands shoved her a step backward. Reila's bladder clenched, almost letting loose. "I'm tired of waiting. We'll settle this here and now. You want to punch me? Go ahead, free shot." Azrael towered over her once more, face close. Reila backed up several steps to put distance between them. "You're fucking crazy!" Azrael laughed, sharp teeth flashing. Her attention suddenly focused on something over Reila's shoulder. She suddenly sneered, pulling back. "We're not finished yet." Before Reila could turn and look, figure out what was going on, huge hands suddenly grabbed her around the middle, lifting her into the air, jerking her from her thoughts. She caught a swift glimpse of Azrael's sneering face. Hands swung her up and through the air. She glimpsed Hans, dressed up as St. Nicholas. He stood not far away, in the middle of the road, staring impassively at Reila in the clutches of costumed monsters. "AHH! LET ME GO! FUCK OFF! LET ME GO YOU FUCKING PERVERTS!" Reila roared, squealing and screaming as she thrashed, struggling to free herself. Her fists pounded on the hairy costumed arms holding her. Her snow crusted boots struck out wildly; she felt them make contact with someone, either her captor or another Krampus. Then hands grabbed her ankles. Her bladder flipped and flopped, the pressure mounting but she clamped down hard and managed to stop the stream. The noise of the parade was deafening; a hurricane of sound. Clanging, jangling, and tinkling of bells and chains; the hooting, hollering, roaring drunk young men in monster costumes; the clapping, chattering, laughing, shouting of the crowd, punctuated by the high pitched squeals of children and young women. Held aloft in the air for a brief moment that felt frozen in time and chaos, Reila could see out over the chaotic crowd. She had a clear view of Hans, his eyes twinkling merrily at her over the fake white beard. He smiled serenely. Right at her. In that second, Reila knew he was behind this, had somehow put the drunken fools up to it. She snarled, rage turning to raw, unbridled fear as the hands holding her suddenly dipped and flipped her. She felt like she was flying through the air. She screamed and squealed, adding to the raucous cacophony. Then, it happened. The huge, furry costumed hands pressed hard right on her straining bladder. She had been successfully fighting the urge to pee throughout her terror and anger. Now, urine cascaded down her legs, soaking her inner thighs and crotch. The warm wetness quickly turned cold in the winter night. Just a little urine flowed from her partially full bladder. Her shoes didn't even get wet. Reila froze as she peed, then she squealed, frantically kicking, punching, and twisting her torso, desperate to get away. She needed to get down, get away, get to a bathroom, go home and clean up. The hands held her firm. She was trapped. "LET ME GO! MOTHERFUCKERS PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN! YOU STUPID DRUNK FUCKS!" She hollered. The costumed monsters merely hooted, either ignored her, didn't understand her English, or never heard her. Her cries were lost in the cacophony of the Krampus Run, the Krampuslauf. "She pissed herself! The stupid bitch pissed her pants!" The Krampus holding her ankles suddenly dropped them. He spoke in German, too fast for Reila to catch any words. She could hardly concentrate in her upset state. Coupled with all the noise it was hard to concentrate. All she knew was her feet were finally free; she automatically started kicking. She quickly found herself dumped back on the cold, snowy ground so abruptly she stumbled backwards. The young men moved on. One of them loomed over a little boy who stood nearby. The boy squealed and darted to the safety of his mother's legs. Another Krampus crouched low and leapt at him. The mom laughed and shoved her child forward. He squealed again, shaking, as the Krampuses howled, jumping up and dancing back to their fellow monsters. Reila wasn't the only one who peed herself; the boy sported wet spots on his pants, under his coat. Reila blushed at the sight. She felt like an overgrown baby. Maybe she should have worn a pullup after all. Or even a diaper. Her pants would still be dry then. She was just like Nicky and that little boy afterall. She shrunk in on herself, sinking back through the dense, riotous crowd. Her wet pants quickly turned cold in the frigid night air. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering and drifting from the warmth and light of the bonfires. She was glad Hans had moved on. Humiliation and damp, icy pants doused her blazing hatred into soggy ashes. He was a bastard and this was all his fault, but she couldn't deal with him at the moment. She needed to get home and change. What would Azrael say? She stiffened at the thought, raising her head and looking frantically through the throng of people. The two were gone. Maybe they'd moved? They couldn't have gone far, especially with Nicky's braces and crutches in the snowy, icy street. She glanced around; no sight of them. Yet none of the crowd had moved into their spot. It stood vacant, a strange hole in the crowd, right at the front of the parade. Frowning, Reila wove her way back to the strange gap in the throng of people. It was as if Azrael and Nicky had just poofed, vanishing into thin air. She pushed people out of her way, but no one seemed to mind. They were too busy cheering and jostling each other, swept up in the noise and excitement of the Krampuslauf. People barely noticed the girl in wet pants. There, in their vacant spot, Reila found two sets of footprints in the snow. Nicky's bootprints with the awkwardly placed feet coupled with round holes from his crutches. Behind the, where Azrael had stood, was a set of cloven hoof prints, as if from the hindlegs of a very large, bipedal goat. Quick note- my computer was being a butt (or I was being an technological noob)- but long story short, in gluhwein, the umlauts over the "u" have been left out. The old bat was bat shit insane. Reila stared with wide eyes as her great great grandmother poured yet another bottle of red wine into a huge copper pot on the stove. That stove looked as old as Uschi, like everything else in the old house. Reila shifted on the hard wood of her chair; pain flared, fire burning every nerve ending in her tender, freshly bruised backside. The thin pull up under her jeans offered little padding. She sat at a small corner table in the kitchen, well away from Uschi's blue cane. Several weeks had passed since the Krampuslauf, and she was still reeling from it. Her whole life had changed dramatically since moving here. She missed America. She'd had friends- sort of. Girls she hung out with, even if they were always sticking knives in each other's backs. More than that, Reila had the freedom to do what she pleased when she pleased, which had frequently led to her getting in trouble; underage drinking, experimenting with drugs, shoplifting from the local mall. Petty things; things any normal teenager would get into. Sonja and the American legal system had not seen it that way, but they just didn't understand Reila or her needs. Here, Reila had chores. Uschi insisted. Reila had refused, resulting in a spectacular clash of iron wills and a bounty of bruises on her butt. Reila has thrown laundry soap all over the floor when Uschi and a stuttering Sonja tried to teach her how to wash clothes. Retaliation via Uschi's cane came swift and hard. Instead of washing dishes, Reila threw them on the floor, breaking several plates. Uschi beat her hard and long until both of them were exhausted. Then she made a sobbing, shaking, pee-soaked Reila clean up the mess. After that, a compromise of sorts had been reached; Reila shadowed Sonja, helping her mother out- which meant Reila half assed it, forcing Sonja to do the actual job. Sonja said nothing of it to Uschi, keeping her mouth shut so Uschi's cane stayed off her daughter's backside. Reila winced in pain. Even now, she could barely sit. A super thick diaper like Nicky wore would have saved her backside some serious bruising. After that horrible, awful night at the Krampuslauf, Reila had been diligent about keeping her pull ups on. Just in case. They stayed dry, for the most part. Sort of. Okay, so she'd had several accidents and maybe she really did need them. When sleeping, she always woke up wet. During the day, when she was scared or nervous or angry or anywhere near Uschi's cane, her bladder let loose. Reila's bruised backside burned as the unyielding wood pressed her soft, dry pull up against her discolored flesh. She winced, shifting around again. The pull up made no noise. The myriad of vast bruises from her multiple beatings were a rainbow of colors, in various stages of healing. The first ones from the borscht-suzle incident were yellow and fading. Others were freshly swollen, angry and red while others had turned shades of plum and blueberry. She moved slow, stiff and sore, which had helped curb her instinctive rebellious bite. Sonja sat across from Reila, stirring a mix of spices in a big bowl. She saw the look on her daughter's face as Reila watched Uschi pour another wine bottle into the pot. "Uschi's making gluhwein." She said in a low voice. Over the weeks, a German accent had creeped into her throat when she spoke English. Her German became more quick and fluent the more she used it. Even Reila had picked up more words, didn't have to concentrate as hard when people spoke to her in German. "Glue wine? The fuck is that? More weird shit like that horrible head cheese?" Sonja sighed, wooden mixing spoon tinging off the side of the bowl. Reila's tongue was sharp as ever, even if Uschi's cane had slowed down her physical tantrums. Sonja still did not approve of Uschi's discipline, but she no longer argued against it. It had gotten better results than her own numerous verbal lectures had. So maybe Uschi was right after all? Uschi had old fashioned, old world discipline; she did not negotiate or reason or explain. She gave an order once and expected to be obeyed. "Because I said so" was reason enough. But Sonja still felt like they weren't getting through to Reila. Was there any way to reach her? Was her daughter as broken as her father was? Sonja looked longingly at all the empty bottles of wine, wishing she could pour some of it down her throat. "Gluhwein. It means glow wine. It's mulled wine." "And that is?" Reila raised an eyebrow with an exasperated look on her face because Sonja was not explaining things clearly enough for her. "A traditional Christmas drink. Wine mulled…cooked…with spices." Sonja tilted her mixing bowl towards Reila so she could have a better view. "Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg. Things like that." She went back to mixing, letting Reila's snippy attitude slide. It was disrespectful, and Uschi would never tolerate it, but Reila had been through so much these past couple weeks. Moving to another country, culture shock. Her increased wettings were surely a sign of all that stress. Sonja tried to be patient, understanding, and forgiving. Things a mother should be, right? "Oh. That…actually sounds good." Sonja said nothing in reply. She just kept mixing the spices to Uschi's standards. Telling Reila she was not allowed to drink would only spark a tantrum. Technically, Reila was allowed to drink over here. In America, she was still too young. In Germany, Reila may have been of legal age, but given her track record, Sonja thought- legal or not- it was a bad idea. Uschi shuffled over to the table and Sonja handed her the mulling mix. Uschi checked Sonja's work, making sure the spices were evenly mixed. She nodded her approval. "Good girl. Yes, just like this." She smiled, speaking in German. She carried the bowl to the pot, lifting the lid. Seeing the wine boiling, she dumped the spices in and stirred. "You see? It's very easy to make. Trickier to make just right." She smiled at Sonja then added. "My gluhwein is Hans' favorite." Sonja blushed, cheeks glowing, and she suddenly became very interested in studying the grain of the wooden table. Reila missed most of Uschi's German words, but she caught Hans' name. Her head shot up and she saw Sonja's reaction. She scowled but dared say nothing. Not with Uschi in the room. "Homemade wine is the best, of course." Uschi stirred and explain to Sonja, teaching her. "You can vary the spices to change the taste. None of those lazy, modern shortcuts. Pre-mixed spices. Pre-made gluhwein. Bah! Lazy, lazy! Not as tasty." Uschi snorted in derision as she kept stirring the spices. "It doesn't look hard…I might actually be able to do it." Sonja joked weakly. Uschi had been teaching her cooking from scratch, and so far it had been a disaster. The scent of spices wafted into the air as Uschi lifted the lid on the bubbling brew. Helping Uschi cook over the past weeks had helped her kitchen skills improve marginally. "A good skill for any good, traditional German woman. Especially around the holidays. The better the gluhwein flavor, the better the skills of the hostess." Reila scrunched her face up, listening and straining to make out the words. Her listening skills had improved somewhat, due to being immersed and surrounded by German, but her mental translation was still slow. Times like now made her wish she would've let Sonja teach her German. What were they talking about now? Hans? She hadn't heard his name mentioned again, unless she'd missed it. Uschi kept gesturing to the pot, so maybe it was that yummy smelling wine? She wanted to demand they tell her, but Uschi got pissy when Reila interrupted. Said she didn't know her place. Reila thought it was rude of them not to tell her. Leaving her out. But Uschi was not open to arguments or reasoning. Reila's bottom bore testament to that. So she stayed silent, frustration curdling within her. She was in no hurry for more bruises. "Oh. That reminds me. I meant to tell you earlier. We're invited to Hans' house tomorrow." Uschi said offhandedly as she sipped at a sampling on mulled wine from her stirring spoon. She smacked her lips appreciatively, nodding in approval to herself.

“Come on, Cameron-baby. Let’s go out for icecream after I check your diaper. .” "Not wike dis!" He took a waddling, crinkly step back as fear spiked through him. He could not go out dressed in his normal baby clothes. He needed big boy clothes. Grandma Beatrice had been very clear about that ever since he first came home from the hospital. He was a big baby, and big babies stayed in the nursery where they belonged. Staring at the same walls everyday- nanny got him ready for school, escorted him to the car where the chauffeur dropped him off at school, picked him back up and it was right back to the nursery. The routine was boring. Safe. He was safe in his regression classroom and his nursery. No one would make fun of him. No one would hurt him. Yet, Lili...she had a scar just like him, but she did not curl up and hide like he did. He wished he could be brave like her, face the cold world. Going out for ice cream- something so simple, thrilled him. He could stay covered, his scars hidden so no one would know or stare and he would cause no trouble. Lili would be there, so everything would be alright. Not dressed as a big baby though. He shook his head, motioning to himself. "Baby." Lili closed the space between them. "Shhh. We'll change you, get you some big boy clothes. It's alright. " She slid her hands around his tiny waist, pulling him flush against her. Cameron's eyes widened as the soft mounds of her breasts smooshed against his chest. His heart beat fast and his eyes widened. He looked up at her. She smiled down at him, her head lowering to his. His heart pounded and he felt light headed. Was she going to kiss him? His first kiss. His stomach flipped-flopped and he panicked. He shoved his binky into his mouth, sucking nervously on it. This time, for the first time, it failed to soothe him. She was still so intoxicatingly, terrifyingly close. Lili paused, her eyes half lidded, partially open. "You're so shy." She grinned as if that delighted her and drew even closer still. He could see the indents on her skin where the piercing pushed through her skin. His face felt like it was on fire. He looked into her eyes, saw the passion blazing there. She wanted him- like-like- he didn’t know. The heat in her gaze overwhelmed him, scorched him. Liliana was a wild creature of passion and emotion, and he was her polar opposite; quiet, demure, shy. He had been content in his little diapered world, even if he was lonely there. He squeaked as she closed the remaining distance between them. Her teeth grabbed the ring of his binky and popped it out of his mouth. He whimpered and instinctively took a step backwards. Her arms still held him captive, so he could not move very far. His heel landed on a rattle that had fallen out of his playpen earlier that morning. The hard plastic slipped on the carpet, sending him tumbling backwards. Because of her hold on him, Liliana went with him. They landed with a thump on the carpet. "Ouch!" "Oof!" The rattle dug into Cameron's back. His thick diaper cushioned his bottom, but Lili's elbow dug into his side. She landed on top of him, her legs splayed on either side of him. He lay stunned. His first instinct was to start crying like an infant, but the feeling of Liliana's weight on top of him soothed him. Her scent surrounded him. His feelings for her confused him, but for the first time in a long time, he felt the desire to be a big boy. Big boys did not cry when they fell down. Lili had cried out in surprise, not expecting to fall. She quickly recovered, popping back up immediately. In India, she had helped her grandfather and Asha out with the tigers. Most of that was watching and caring for the tiger cubs, but she had worked with the bigger, older animals, too. She had been tackled a few times by huge, still growing cubs who did not know their own strength, so getting knocked over was nothing new to her. She straddled Cameron, sitting on his stomach. His huge diaper poofed out, giving her a cushion to sit on as she pinned him, catching his wrists and pinning him down. Just like she had pinned Priscilla. Pin her down and take what she wanted. No, not like Priscilla at all. She had wanted to hurt her cousin, intimidate her. She could not imagine hurting Cameron. He shared her feelings- she could see it when she looked into his eyes. She saw the uncertainty, the hesitancy when she got close. But she also saw the warmth and longing. He wanted her, but he was afraid to get close. Even now, his eyes were shut and his breathing was ragged; she could feel the fast rise and fall of his chest under her. Her own breathing was even but her pulse pounded in her veins. Shame washed over Cameron. Lili's weight pinned him down, so he could not crawl away. Trapped. His first instinct was to flee. Was she upset with him? Disgusted? But she wasn't pulling away...she was holding him in place. He opened his eyes to see her smirking down at him. "Falling for someone isn't meant to be taken literally." She joked and he blushed. "Silly baby." Her head lowered and he froze, having nowhere to go, unable to squirm away. As her lips inched closer, he panicked once more and squirmed, diaper rustling noisily. Her weight held him trapped. He thought his heart was going to break his ribs with all that frantic pounding. "My baby." She whispered, voice low, her breath washing over him. He froze, eyes widening as her teeth clamped onto his paci ring, gently holding it still. Cameron nervously tried to suck on the rubber nipple, but she started to pull it out of his mouth. He whined in protest and she stopped just before the nipple slipped out of his lips. Her eyes twinkled mischievously down at him, and she gently slipped it back in. He stared up at her and heat washed over him, making him dizzy. He yielded under her, soft and sweet in her arms as he surrendered to her, trusting her. Fear and panic faded, melting away under the warmth of her body pressing down on his. His body turned to jelly. He was lost in sensation, drowning under her touch. He never felt the front of his soggy diaper grow warm again, or the soggy back of his diaper push out as his bowels suddenly released. The mushy mess squished against the hard floor, trapped with nowhere to go but up between his legs. He squirmed a little at the sensation of the mess smooshing around in his diaper, but was too distracted as Liliana moved. The warm rubber of the nipple glided over his lips as she pulled it almost out again, teasing him. He closed his eyes as his mind went hazy. Was kissing like this? All these swirling emotions...they were confusing but felt so good, so right. Like it was meant to be. Fate written in the stars...that’s what Nanny Isabelle’s soap operas said. Maybe this was why unregressed boys loved kissing so much? It felt so good. Her butt pressed down on his soggy diaper, smooshing it. Her hands let go of his slim wrists, and she shifted again, placing them on his tiny waist. He was so soft and sweet she almost felt like she had a girl under her. She wanted to pull Cameron’s binky out and kiss him. She could feel his delicate body shivering under her and held herself back. She didn’t want to push him too hard or too far. She imagined kissing him would be much like kissing a girl. The idea of kissing a girl had never bothered Lili, and she had gotten to try it out quite a few times at various concerts. She had gone far in her brief bouts of experimenting. Spending most of her time on her grandfather's tiger conservatory, she did not get to socialize with others her own age very often; only when she accompanied Jack and Asha to the States did she get let loose off her proverbial leash. Babysitting Rajesh wasn’t the same as hanging out with a peer. And when she was off her leash, she ran wild. Thoughts of past one-night stands fled far from her mind. All that existed for her right now were the emotions swirling in his big doe eyes. She teased his binky some more, gently pressing the shield into his lips. Right over his nearly faded bruises from the last time Nanny Isabelle watched him. The pressure sparked memories of the angry nanny looming over him, smashing his pacifier down. He immediately stiffened, eyes screwing tight shut as his breathing became fast and shallow. Lili immediately dropped the ring and sat up. “Cameron? Baby, what’s wrong?” She touched his cheek, voice full of concern. Cameron barely heard her as he fought against the memories. This was Lili, and she wouldn’t hurt him. He clung to his trust in her as he struggled against the fear the memories dredged up. Moments passed in silence as he struggled to calm down. He wriggled a little under her, his diaper crinkling noisily. The thick diaper pushed up into Lily as Cameron squirmed beneath. He shivered, eyes tightly closed and never wanted the moment to end. Lili shifted, smooshing Cameron’s puffy diaper down and he did not even notice the mess inside squishing against him. He cracked open one eye to peek up at her. She was still so close, but instead of making him nervous, he enjoyed it. Wanted to open up to her. He wanted to say something savy and cool or romantic and sweet but words failed him. All he could manage was a clumsy nod. It was all the confirmation Lili needed. "Knew you would." She rubbed his stomach for a while until she judged he was comfortable enough. Her hands slipped under his sweater, rubbing the design on his onesie. Beneath the cloth, she could feel the uneven bumps of his burn scars. Old and healed, his flesh forever mutilated. Forever a reminder of the nightmare his father put him through. Just like Lili’s scars would always be a memento carved into her flesh from the tiger, and her dance with Indonesian law. Her hands roamed lower. Instead of burned skin she found the soft, crinkly padding of his diaper. A little lower her roaming fingers encountered the elastic waistband of his pants. Her fingertips dipped in, the onesie still covering his diaper, keeping her from getting to it. Cameron suddenly pulled away, head lolling against the floor as he panted, needing oxygen. She could feel the desperate rise and fall of his thin chest. Her breathing had increased but not like his had. She smiled crookedly. "You forgot to breathe." Cameron peered up at her, his eyes hazy. She was teasing him, and he blushed in response. He automatically opened his mouth to apologize. "Such a shy baby." Lili purred. His innocence enchanted her, reminding her of a fairytale princess. she tickled his sides. He squirmed, diaper crinkling but his face stayed covered. He struggled to say something, to retort, but all that came out was a strangled squeak. He coughed, clearing his throat and drew unsteady breaths, trying to get himself back under control. "Cameron. Baby boy. Look at me." Her tone was gentle but firm. A command. Cameron hesitated then spread his fingers, peeking out at her. She gently grabbed his thin wrists and lowered his hands. "Baby. Do you want to be a big boy? A big baby?." He said nothing but looked up at her doubtfully. She rubbed his kiss swollen lips. "You liked it, yeah?" His blush spread all over his face and he lowered his eyes. All the answer she needed. "It felt good.". He nervously licked his lips, his tongue licking her finger. She grinned. "You want to do it some more." He did not meet her eyes but nodded his head. "Baby that doesn't make you a bad boy. It makes you a big boy. My big diaper baby." She teased then started tickling him, hands under his sweater once more. Cameron writhed and thrashed as he was tickled, laughing loudly. Lili had no trouble keeping him pinned. In one swift movement, she pulled his infantile sweater over his head. His bib tore off with the loud sound of Velcro ripping open, and his paci clip stayed firmly attached to his sweater collar. He lay before her in just his long sleeved onesie and pants. Lili tugged on his waistband, tugging his pants down a few inches over the thick bulge of his diaper. Cameron froze, grabbing at his pants. She tugged on his waistband, tugging his pants down a few inches over the thick bulge of his diaper. Cameron froze, grabbing at his pants. "No, please!" Cameron froze, grabbing at his pants. "No, please!" She would see his ugly scars, his diaper. He felt exposed enough in just his onesie. In his panic, and wanting to be a big boy, his usual toddler lisp was gone. In its place, he spoke like a big boy. "Cameron." Lili softened her voice, seeing the absolute terror in his eyes as he gazed pleadingly at her. She felt him shake as he gripped her wrists tightly. She could yank free, tear his pants off, but that would destroy their relationship. He would never trust her again. "Baby." She let go of his pants, and he released her wrists as she scooted back up on him, sitting on his stomach and the upper part of his diaper. She reached up past his head, where his sweater lay in a jumbled ball. She tugged his binky free from its ribbon and clip, then slipped it between his lips. Cameron instinctively sucked on the rubber nipple as Lili rolled to her side, laying next to him on the nursery carpet. He grabbed one of her hands, entwining his slim fingers with hers and squeezing gently, trying to tell her he was sorry, it was too much too fast for him. She lay on her side, head propped up on one arm, staring down at him. She waited until he had calmed down, then lowered her head next to his ear. "Baby. I've already seen you get your diapee changed, remember? At school?" He nodded. Oh, he remembered. He had never forgotten. "Dis- diffwent." He explained, lisping once again. Her lips twitched, but not in a smile. She was much closer to him this time, would be up close and personal. Very hands on. Intimate. Intimidating. "Oh? How so?" She asked, like she already knew the answer but just wanted to hear it from his mouth. He whined softly behind his binky. "Cuz. It is." He shrugged, unable to find the words to tell her the jumbled mess of emotions he was feeling. "Lili touch. Change mah diapee." She nodded. "Yes, sweetie. I'm going to change your diapee. You can't stay in that diapee all day, and I promised I'd take you for ice cream." His eyes grew big as saucers. Diaper changes, he didn't mind. But for Lili to touch him there, to see those horrid, ugly scars, the disfiguration covering most of his body...yes, Lili had a scar, but it was small compared to his. Just a little blight on her beauty, whereas his...his only stroke of luck, aside from surviving, had been his fingers and face had been spared. "Is this about your boo-boos? Your scars?" Lili slipped into the speech Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper had used, but corrected herself. Cameron nodded but managed to look up at Lili; she saw the pain reflected in his eyes. If she saw how extensive his scars were, saw how ugly they were up close, he feared she would turn away in disgust, would leave him. He could not blame her if she did. He was a freak. A misshapen monster. "Dey ugwy." He lisped softly, tears brimming in his eyes. "Hey. Shh. Don't cry, yeah?" Lili sat up, pulling her pearl pink shirt up over her head, revealing a white lace bra with with tiny rhinestones on each nipple. His face flushed, but it was not her pert, generously endowed breasts that drew his attention. It was the scarred half of her torso, where the huge animal had torn into her. "See? Here's my scar." She captured one of his trembling hands and guided it to her stomach. The normal part of her stomach was smooth and flat. She guided him over to the scarred side of her torso. He felt each bump, each deep groove of her missing flesh. She shivered though he kept his touch light as a bird's wing. Was this what someone felt when they touched his scars? Cameron's flesh had been burned, melted, blistered and popped, but none of it was missing. In some ways, Liliana's mutilation, though not as widespread over her body, was worse than his own. The red, pink, and white colors of the scar were similar to his own, but the deep grooves in her flesh both fascinated and repulsed him as he rubbed a finger in it. "Ah." She gasped when he hit a particular deep and sensitive spot. She panted lightly and took his hand in her own again. "Pretty gross, huh?" His eyes flew up to her. Did she really think her scar made her ugly? "N-no!" He shook his head in denial. "Does my scar make me ugly?" She asked, amusement in her voice. Again, he shook his head, and let his binky fall out of his mouth. "Lili pretty." He said it vehemently, as if willing her to believe it. She grinned in triumph. "Cameron's pretty, too. My pretty baby." Cameron stilled in surprise. Pretty. No one called him pretty once they saw his scars. No one except Liliana. Warmth stirred in his heart, faintly, along with the brief thought, that maybe, just maybe, his scars really weren't that bad?' He shook his head. His scars had brought him nothing but cruelty, rejection, teasing from his normal peers. "Ugwy. Fweddy Kweugar." He whispered softly, a tear trickling down his cheek as he turned his head away from her. Just saying that name made him cringe. Lili lowered her head, tongue darting out, licking his cheek and catching his tear. The metal tips of her snake bite spikes brushed over his soft skin. He drew in a sharp breath at the contact. "It's not true." For once, Lili's voice was fierce, dead serious. "Pissy's the one who gave you that nick name." Cameron curled in on himself, cringing at the anger in Lili's voice. He nodded in confirmation, even though she did not ask. Pretty, popular Priscilla. How Cameron had tried to give her a wide berth, and how she had zoned in on him like a shark scenting blood in the water. How could Priscilla and Liliana be from the same family tree? He could see it, vaguely- they were both terrifying when they were angry. "S-sowwy." He whispered, apologizing automatically. Lili's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him against her. Her breasts squashed into his back. "You've nothing to be sorry for. But Pissy's plenty sorry. She'll be even sorrier." Liliana grumbled to herself. Her mind slipped back to the fear in Prissy’s eyes as she loomed over her and diapered her. She remembered Prissy’s garbled screams as she helplessly, noisily shit herself in front of Max. The old anger and hatred burned hot in her veins, but the memory of her conversation with Asha doused the fire. Just what had Asha meant? Silence fell between them as they both calmed down, reigning their emotions in. Cameron quietly sucked his paci. The hard floor was starting to hurt his back and make him uncomfortable. He shifted, diaper crinkling. He felt the front grow warm as he peed, and finally became aware of the mess he was sitting in. He stilled. Lili would *have* to change his diaper now; there was no getting around it. He needed a clean diaper before he leaked and flared up his diaper rash. He started at the sudden poke in his side, the finger pushing in on the top of the back of his diaper. "Hey, baby?" Lili called softly, testing his emotional state. "Yeah?" He answered just as quietly. "Who do you think's smarter- me or Pissy Prissy?" Her tone was full of her old arrogance and joviality. His lips turned in a little smile. "Yew." "Damn straight I am. So, if I say you're pretty and Pissy's an idiot, then you're pretty. Yeah?" Cameron hesitated, his old fears holding him back. He wanted to believe her; she was the first one to call him pretty. Cute. Even with his scars. A warm candle glow flickered in his heart. She poked him; his diaper crinkled as her finger pushed into the soggy padding. "Y-yeah." He stuttered. "I don't believe you. ." "Y-yeah!" He forced out shakily. "Yeah, what?" "L-Lili smart!" "Yes, and what else? What did Lili say?" The finger did not move from his back, ready to jab him again. "I-I pwetty!" "Yes, you are." Lili cooed and stole a quick kiss on his cheek. 'Now, you got to see my scar, so it’s only fair I get to see yours. I need to check your diaper, anyway." She was going to change his diaper. See his scars. She wouldn’t think he was pretty then. Cameron’s lower lip trembled as panic and fear knotted in his chest. His eyes burned with suppressed tears. He bit lip lip, wanting his binky, to curl up and hide in his crib under his blanky. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the hard floor. The mess in his diaper squished, cooling off and starting to feel unpleasant. It itched with the faint stinging tinge of a blossoming diaper rash. He would rather have a bad diaper rash than for Lili to see his scars and reject him, repulsed by their ugliness. Would she reject him? He looked up into her eyes. Her gaze was deep, sincere. He but his lip, teeth digging into the soft flesh, hesitated a moment, and nodded. She rewarded him with a grin and a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. He blushed. "That's my brave baby." Lili pulled his pants off, revealing his bare legs. They were long and slender, almost girly looking just like the rest of him. Instead of creamy porcelain fair skin of a fairytale princess, his legs were covered in puckered swirls of red, pink and white. The burned skin was puffy in places and shallower in others, melted and swirled together. Lili gently stroked the burn scars. The burns went down his entire length of his legs. She took off his socks. The burns ended in the middle of his foot. Above the melted skin was the smooth princess skin Lili so admired on him. The burns ended oddly in a straight line. Lili tilted her head to one side, gently tracing the line with one finger. "It’s true then. This was no accident." She spoke more to herself than to him. Cameron lay stiff as a board, letting Lili explore his mutilated flesh. He just whimpered softly in acknowledgement, not wanting to talk about it. He squirmed, wriggling his toes and making his huge diaper rustle. "Ah. I need to check your diaper." She could tell by how stiff his limbs felt, his posture and expression that he did not want to talk about it. Could barely tolerate her touching him. She ran her hands up his scarred legs to the tremendous bulge of his diaper. Cameron stilled, tension flowing out of his body. She had not recoiled from him. She popped open his onesie, revealing his diaper. It sagged, the white plastic tinged yellow and brown, heavy with his urine and poop. She poked at his diaper, the same way she had jabbed his side. "I see some baby really needs a new diapee." She teased, one finger pushing on the smooth plastic covering his soggy crotch some more. He could barely feel the jabs through the thick padding encasing him. "Lili." He protested, blushing and squirming. "Okay, okay." She tugged his onesie up and examined the monstrously thick diaper. "It’s Winnie the pooh!" She poked at the diapers front panel. "Some baby really likes pooh bear, yeah?" She glanced around at the nursery decorations. She looked at him; he blushed, nodding. When he had been regressed in the hospital, he had taken a shine to Winnie the pooh. "I'll have to remember that." Lili said more to herself. She lifted his onesie and he sat up, diaper crinkling noisily. He raised his hands and she pulled the material over his head, tossing it aside by his sweater. He lay back, naked except for his well used diaper, scars fully exposed to Lili. She stared down at her baby boy. Cameron shivered, feeling chilly and vulnerable. Nothing was hidden from her, and he was afraid to look at her. She sat back on her heels, just staring down at him, at the mementos of the violence done to him by his father. The burn started just below his collarbone and ended half way down his feet. The bottom part of his palms were burned, too, leaving his fingers and toes undamaged. The clear burn lines intrigued her; he had been dipped into the near-boiling water. She had learned this from one of Jill's gossipy housemaids. Lili stared down at the burn line. She bent low, kissing his chest. Right on his ugly scars. Over his heart. The burned skin was mottled, lumpy and bumpy under her lips. "Baby, you're beautiful to me." Cameron gasped, eyes flying open to look up at her. "L-Lili!" She smiled and kissed his nose again. "Never be ashamed. It's part of who you are. It shows the shit you survived. You're stronger than you know, pretty baby." She loomed over him, her generously endowed breasts almost popping out of her lace bra. One of her knees slipped between his splayed legs, accidentally brushing against his inner thigh. His breath caught in his chest and his head buzzed. For once he noticed the sensation of his mess and soggy padding pressing into him. She just thought he was being shy about his scars again. Their scarred sides touched, her gouged flesh melding to his burned skin. "Look at that, they match." She joked. Cameron raised his head to peer down at their torsos. He hated looking at his body, but with Lili he felt almost beautiful. The front of his soggy padding grew warm as he wet some more. His saturated padding was dangerously close to leaking. She ran her hands over his scars, rubbing along the scar line and lower until she came to the top of his massive diaper. A giggle escaped him when her fingers brushed his scarred sides, hitting his ticklish spots. “Oh? Is baby ticklish?” A wicked grin spread across her face. Before Cameron could respond, her fingers danced all over his sides, tickling him and causing him to giggle madly. Her fingers explored all over, searching out new tickling spots. One hand traveled down to his thighs. Her eyes widened when she felt something warm and wet by the diaper's leg gatherers. She looked down in surprise, sitting up. "Uh oh. Looks like a baby sprung a leak." She wrinkled her nose, realizing there was pee on her palm. Discretely, she wiped her hand on the carpet. Changing diapers was part and parcel of being with a baby boy, and changing Cameron would be a lot more pleasant than changing Prissy. She smoothed her face, biting back her reluctance. She didn’t like this, but if it meant being with Cameron, she would have to accept it. Cameron gasped for breath, face red as he giggled and panted. He blinked, realizing his diaper had leaked. "Oh. S-sowwy." He mumbled in embarrassment. What a big baby he was- he could not even tell when his diaper had leaked. Hell, he had not even realized it was messy right away. He was just too used to his diapers, and to others taking responsibility for changing them. Maybe he should start being a big boy and take care of his own diapees? At least tell people when he was wet or messy? Liliana snorted at his automatically mumbled sorry. She wondered how many times he had been guilt tripped him into saying that. "It's just a bit of water. Come on, let’s get this pretty baby into a clean diapee." She held her hands out to him. Cameron blushed, the word pretty still felt strange when applied to him. Many people told him he had a pretty face. Those same people recoiled in horror at his scars. Only crazy, wild Liliana would call a boy covered in burns pretty. He knew he was not pretty, would never be, but it was nice to pretend. To not have to hide anything. To not disgust someone with just the sight of his mutilated flesh. It was why he wore so many layers, even in the hot summer months. So no one would have to look at his horrid scars. The scars Lili called pretty. He placed both his soft princess hands in hers. Her long fingers wrapped around his and he felt the strength in her hold as she hauled him to his feet, pulling his slight weight up with ease. He rocked forward, slightly off balance from the force of her pull. She caught him, stepping close so he leaned against her shoulder. "You're as unsteady as a toddler." She joked and he blushed, burying his face in her bare shoulder. Her skin was milky white and flawless, like a princess with the heart of a prince. Lili patted his diapered rump. His diaper sagged between his legs without his onesie to hold it up, dragged down by gravity and the weight of his urine and poop. She made a face at the squishy sensation, then started poking at his backside, feeling the telltale lumps of mess. She pulled the waistband of his diaper back, peering down into it. "Oh. Yuck. Damn." She said upon viewing the mess that had been smooshed around. "Sowwy." He pressed his face into her neck, trying to hide. He was used to messy diapers; he was not used to Lili changing them. She accepted his scars, so his soiled diapers wouldn’t drive her away. He hoped. His heart sped up. "Shush. Don't worry, baby. It's what babysitters like me are for." Her tone was overly smug as she tried to relax him. Cameron blushed and Lili laughed. "Well, that sounds better than nanny. " He just grunted in reply, and she playfully swatted his behind. He didn’t react as she squished his mess around; she was the one who winced. “Diapee icky?” He asked softly. "Ugh. Understatement of the year, baby boy. Well, let’s get this over with.” She bit back a groan and took his hand then led him to the changing table. Cameron crinkled and waddled, his legs spread far apart. He really, really wanted a clean diaper more than anything else right now. Messy diapers didn’t bother him, but Lili would be more comfortable once he was in a clean diaper. Then she’d put his clothes back on, hiding his scars again. Making him more comfortable. He waddled as fast as he could, pulling on her hand. “Geez, you’re even more eager than me.” She laughed and tugged, holding him back. He whined and tugged. "Peese." He lisped. "Icky diapee." She just shrugged and let him tug her on, amazed at how her big baby could toddle so fast. Once at the table, he hopped up and laid down, spreading his legs just like he always did. "Diaper change. Right. I got this. Yeah?" Lili talked more to herself, squatting down and pulling a diaper out from one of the many stacks under the changing table. "Just like changing Prissy." Except she had left changing Priscilla to the home care workers. She had attempted to change her a time or two, taunting her with those baby diapers, but each time a home care worker had arrived and unknowingly ended her fun, or Asha would interrupt when she decided Liliana had enough fun and Priscilla enough torment for one day. Even with Asha’s grandnephew, Lili had rarely changed him. Just enough to learn how to do it right. When diapering Prissy, anger had overridden her uncertainty. If Prissy’s diaper leaked from not being taped on correctly, who cared? Now, with Cameron, she wanted to do it right. Cameron smiled a little. Liliana was always so sure of herself, so bold and decisive. Now, she hesitated over a simple thing like a diaper change. "Diapee. Wipes. Powder." He called helpfully. She looked more closely at the stacks of diapers, grabbing one. She fumbled around with the different tubs of wipes, finding one that was open and setting it up on top of the changing mat between Cameron's splayed legs. "Got it. Powder...here we go." She found the open powder bottle and stood up, looking down at him and checking the supplies. "Something's missing..." The metal spikes of her snakebites moved as her tongue toyed with them inside her mouth. Cameron raised himself up, looking down his scarred torso and past the thick bulge of his dirty diaper to see what she had laid out. His diaper, wipes, and powder...."Diapee cweam?" He suggested helpfully in his usual toddler lisp. "Yeah. That's it. Thanks, baby." She patted his red and pink mottled scar covered knee, then bent down for one last rummage under the changing table. "Here we go." She popped back up with a tube of diaper rash cream. "I don't know how long you've been in that poopy diapee." She said it with implication, looking at him. Cameron smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. He was not sure when he had pooped, but he had a vague idea. Maybe when he was distracted by her teasing him with his binky? He blushed at the memory, and at the knowledge he had pooped himself while she was so close. He was very, very glad his grandmother had him on the odor-neutralizing pills. Otherwise, that would have been a disaster; shitting himself and stinking up the room with a dirty diaper while being so close to Lili. What a shitty situation. He smiled a little at the pun. He felt so brazen and bold for using a naughty no-no swear word, even if it was just inside his head. "What's so amusing?" Lili asked as she reached for the diaper tapes. She hadn’t expected him to become so relaxed with her seeing his scars and cleaning poop off his butt. It showed his level of trust in her, melted the monster lurking in her heart. Cameron just smiled and shook his head, teasing her. "I wanna know." She poked his soggy diaper. He twitched, squeaking in surprise. She smirked. "Lili not know diapee changing." He smiled, teasing her with his baby lisp. "Oh? And that's funny?" He nodded. "Uh-huh." She jabbed the front panel of his diaper, right by his belly button; he squeaked again. Her smirk widened into a smile. "Now, that's funny." He pouted at her getting the last word, then she ripped open his diaper tapes, pulling the diaper front down and revealing the mess inside. He shivered as cool air washed over his warm, wet and messy privates. Even mutilated with disfiguring burn scars, his diaper area was hyper sensitive to temperature. He laid back and closed his eyes, relaxing. If she could touch his mutilated flesh and not recoil, surely she could handle changing his diaper. Could she handle this? Lili nodded to herself. The only way to do it was to...well, do it. She curled her upper lip in distaste as she gazed down at the mess coating his scarred privates. She grit her teeth and got on with it, using the front of the diaper to wipe the majority of the mess off. She tapped his thigh. He automatically pushed up with his heels, lifting his bottom up. "Lift your bummy - good boy." His messy bottom was already up in the air before the words left her mouth. "You're more familiar with this than I am, yeah?" She teased as she pulled the dirty diaper out from under him. She took the first of many big sized baby wipes, wiping him down, front to back. Once she got the majority of the mess off, cleaning in every swirled, melted nook and cranny, she set the used wipes down on the dirty diaper then balled it up, setting it aside. His now clean diaper area was as burned as the majority of his body. The skin was mottled, ridged and swirled in various shades of white, red and pink. His diaper rash blended into his disfigured scars. She fumbled with the new diaper, flapping it open and unfolding it, then laying under him. "Okay, down baby." Cameron lowered his bottom onto the soft, thick padding of the awaiting diaper. It felt like he was laying on a cushion. It was a sensation he was used to. He wriggled his bottom, snuggling into his new diaper. "Don't get too comfy just yet." She squeezed a big dollop of diaper ointment onto her fingers and started with his backside. Instead of pushing up with his heels to raise his bottom up, Cameron pulled his knees into his chest, spreading his burned buttcheeks apart. "Good baby." She spread the cream in a thick layer, rubbing it into his scarred skin, all along his crack, then slapped his bare bottom playfully. He jumped and a small spurt of pee arced out, just missing her. "Well. You really don't get that changing girls." She said lightly, pushing back her disgust. She didn’t feel the biting anger she did when Prissy peed on her. Disgust, yes, but even that was milder. Neither Prissy nor Cameron had control when they peed, yet she was more accepting of Cameron’s accidents. Maybe...her hatred of her cousin blinded her to what Prissy had become? Cameron blinked. "What happened?" "You peed when I spanked your tushy." "Oh. Sowwies." He blushed a little; he had not even felt himself pee. “Shit happens. Or, piss, in this case." She laughed a little, dabbed him with the front of the clean diaper to mop up any drops of lingering urine, then spread another glob of cream on his front. Cameron was relaxed; he was used to having different people change his diapers, from the nurses in the hospital to the different nannies the agency sent. Having Lili touch his scars was far more intimate to him than a diaper change, so now he was fully comfortable with her changing his diapers. Touching his scarred privates. She wiped the cream off her hands with a wipe, then fussed with the diaper, making sure it was positioned right. She took longer than his nannies and teachers at school did; they were all very efficient diaper changers. "Now, the piece de resistance." She crooned in a very phony French accent as she held the baby powder bottle above his crotch, turned it upside down and thwacked it. Baby powder poured out, dumping down on his crotch. A sweet scented cloud swirled up, making both of them cough. Lili waved her hand, taking a step back to clear the airborne powder while Cameron just lay on the table, coughing and coughing. Hearing his coughing, she stepped close and waved the cloud away from his face. Once the powder settled, Cameron still coughed, thin chest heaving before finally clearing the dust out. Lili stepped back to the bottom of the changing table. A fine layer of white lay over Cameron's mottled belly like a dusting of snow. His crotch was completely covered in white like the North Pole. "Lili!" His voice warbled with a bold reprimand, annoyed at her antics. Surely it had been an accident, but in the heat of the moment he did not stop to think. He just reacted to being smothered in baby powder. Lili chuckled then noticed the scrunched up, pouty expression on his pretty face. "What?" she asked innocently, reaching down to pat the cool powder into his skin. He twitched, opening his mouth but his reply turned into a garbled squeak as she grabbed his sensitive bits and rubbed. His privates were so heavily coated with rash cream all she did was combine the powder and cream into a thick paste that clung to him in a heavy layer, fully covering his burn scars. Cameron squirmed on the open diaper, his cheeks sticking together. “Too much. Feels icky.” It felt like he was still coated in poop. She finished cleaning her hands with another wipe and pulled the front of the diaper tight up between his legs, fussing with getting the panel placed just right. "Well, you won't need to worry about a rash, yeah?" She seemed pleased with the outcome; she had expected it to go far worse. Cameron sighed in resignation. There just was no winning with her. Not that he had enough spine to butt heads against her. But his nannies were much better at diaper changes. She wasn’t a nanny or a teacher. He should cut her some slack; at least she put his diaper on the right way. She pulled the tapes tight, tugging here and there. She stuck them in place, checked his leg gathers, then finished with a slap to his diapered crotch. The fluffy, thick padding cushioned it to a gentle pat. "That wasn't so bad. Yeah?" Cameron gave her a beady eyed look. She might not be as professional as his nannies, but she was much more fun. He smiled a little. "Not bad." He held out his hands to her like a toddler asking to be picked up. Lili took them; he hauled himself up, her hands keeping him steady as he sat up on the padded changing table. He looked down at his diaper. Red fire trucks decorated the front panel, partly covered up by the sturdy tapes. He poked at the leg gathers; they felt and looked just like when his nannies did it. He wondered if she had more experience than she was letting on. "Baby loves a nice clean diapee, yeah?" Lili cooed with just a touch of malice to her voice as her mind drifted to the last time she’d fastened a diaper on her cousin. Cameron froze, glancing up into her sneering face. He was shocked by the sudden, unexpected hostility. Was he imagining it? He had to be. With that expression on her face, she looked so, so much like Priscilla. The tone in her voice was just like Priscilla’s when she had taunted him in the halls, when the school attempted to mainstream him. He whimpered softly, old terror of his old bully bubbling up. He tried to fight it. Lili was not like her cousin. She was not a monster like Priscilla was. Lili was a monster. Grandma Jill was right. Lili realized her slip up at the dashed, wounded look on Cameron’s face. Fear flashed as he stared at her, looking as stricken as if she had physically slapped him. It was quickly gone, replaced with a look of disbelief and confusion. This was a side of her he had never seen. She had forgotten herself, let that dark part of herself out. She had meant those words, but had not meant to direct them at Cameron. It was her tone. She had meant to go for a light, teasing tone to make him blush, and instead a patronizing sneer fell from poisoned lips. “Cameron! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was thinking of someone else. Not you. Never you. Baby, I’m so sorry.” She poured out her remorse, eyes begging him to forgive her. “It’s...okay?” He asked softly, staring unsurely at her. He bit his lower lip. Had he made her mad? “It’s okay. I’m sorry. You forgive me? I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry.” Cameron blinked, taken aback at the desperation in her voice. Usually he was the one saying how sorry he was. A tentative, wavering smile curled the corners of his mouth. “I fowgive. Forgive.” He corrected his default lisp. “I really am sorry.” She looked at him, as if she was afraid to touch him, afraid she’d break him. “I forgive you.” He spoke softly then tentatively poked her shoulder, just like she’d poked him earlier. He smiled tentatively. Realizing she really was forgiven, Lili grinned back. “Thank you, Cameron.” She immediately stepped close, arms slipping around his tiny, thin waist in a hug, drawing him to her warmth, her body. His burned flesh felt bumpy and misshapen against her bare skin. Just like her own scar on her side felt, and the ones on her back. "I’d never hurt you.” She whispered, voice serious as if she was making a promise she meant to keep. Reassured, he hugged her back, laying his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent deep into his lungs, trying to memorize it. Her perfume mingled with his own baby powder fresh scent. Lili gave his soft cheek a quick peck then stepped away. "Now, let's find the baby some big boy clothes to wear." She left to rummage through his closet, leaving him sitting up on the changing table, naked except for his diaper. He was not sure now what he was. A big baby? A big boy in diapers? He had been content and safe as a baby. He needed his diapers, that much was certain. He loved his nursery, his bibs and binky and his crib. He also liked being with Lili. Did he want her as a babysitter, or a friend? Maybe both? The feelings she stirred in him confused him. He wanted to sit up front with her in her car. Be a big boy. He slid off the changing table, fresh diaper crinkling, the smell of baby powder clinging to him as he toddled after her. He frowned as he passed the wet spot on the carpet, where his diaper had leaked. The heater kicked on, sending warm air into the nursery. Cameron crinkled and waddled into his walk in closet, following Lili. A childish, silly urge came upon him as he spied her at the very back of the closet, bent over and digging deep through some storage shelves. He waddled up noisily behind her, as quiet as could be with bare feet on the carpet, only the rustling of his diaper to give him away. Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper would be shocked if they knew what he was up to. The other regression students did this a lot, squealing, laughing and scaring one another. Not Cameron. He'd jump and giggle when Leroy snuck up on him, but he never did it to others. He was the baby content to quietly play in the corner, off by himself. He stealthily waddled until he was so close to Lili he could smell her perfume. "Boo!" he called, almost shouting. Lili did not so much as twitch or give any indication she had heard him. He waited several heartbeats, face scrunched up in confusion. "Boo?" he asked, quieter. She did not move. He crinkled closer, able to reach out and touch her. Any closer and the thick bulk of his huge diaper would brush up against her. She was heavier than him- he was a scrawny boy, but his monstrous diaper gave him a much bigger butt than hers. His butt was all diaper padding. "Lili?" he called even softer, uncertainty lacing his tone. Was she okay? Was she mad at him? He bit his lip. He should have just been a good baby and waited for her on the changing table. When she still did not move, he hesitantly reached forward to touch her. His fingertip was less than a centimeter from her backside when- "BOO!" Lili leapt up like a tiger springing from a crouch, grabbing his waist. Cameron shrieked, voice high and shrill as a girl’s. Liliana laughed, her grip on him keeping him in place. "Gotcha baby." "Lili!" He whined as her laugh died down to chuckles. "Hey, you were gonna do it to me." She replied cheekily. He just pouted and impulsively stuck his tongue out at her. "Is that an invitation?" He blinked in confusion. "I'm tempted to steal a kiss, pretty boy." Her tone was light and joking. He gulped, blushing, eyes wide and she laughed again. "Oh, I love teasing you. You're so pretty when you blush." He whined softly in protest. "Okay, okay. I've had enough fun for now. Here, step in this." She bent down, picking up the pair of baby blue corduroy pants she had dropped as she spun around. Warm pee spurted into his fresh diaper; the absorbent, thick padding quickly whisked it away. She held out the pants for him to step into. "Onesie?" He asked uncertainly. He always wore a onesie over his diapers to help hide his scars. She straightened. "Thought you wanted to play big boy today, yeah?” She raised an eyebrow. He nodded. He did. But..."Onesie, please?" he asked softly. "I always wear. Hides diapee. Hides boo-boos." He wanted to be a big boy, but in baby steps. More importantly, his scars needed covered. Lili surveyed him for a long moment. "Oh, alright. Onesie it is." She gave in but he knew from her tone she was reluctant about it. He smiled and looked up at her. "Thank yew." He started off in big boy speech then slipped into his usual toddler lisp. She melted under that soft, imploring look, knowing she could force him to not wear one. She took his hand and guided him back out of the closed, slinging the pants and a hooded sweatshirt she yanked blindly off a hanger in passing. Cameron pointed out his onesie drawer and she dug through it. "Okay baby." Lili held up a yellow onesie with a fluffy white sheep embroidered on the front, and a frilly Peter pan collar edged in white lace, and white lace on the cuffs. “Kinda girly, but cute, yeah?” Cameron blushed and nodded his agreement it was cute. He didn’t think it was that girly, just infantile. Maybe the lace made it girly? "Gwandpa got it. Christmas last year." He sighed a little. He had only seen his grandpa a few times; the old man spent most of his time in Paris. With his pretty, young male personal assistant. "Gwandma says his secwa- secretary picked it out..." He started off in his habitual toddler lisp, then switched to big boy words. His voice grew softer as he spoke, voicing aloud thoughts he had never shared with anyone, not even his therapist or doctors. He was quite sure his grandfather had just tossed his credit card to his personal assistant and offhandedly told him to buy some Christmas presents for his grandchild. When asked what to buy, Grandpa would shrug and say "How the hell should I know? Just get whatever" and go back to his precious reports. Lili unsnapped the shoulder lapel. "Hey, at least the old man's side piece got the color right. Points for trying, yeah? Arms up!" Cameron reached up so she could slide the girly garment over his head. “Uh oh, where did Cameron go?" She cooed in a sing song voice then pulled the onesie all the way down while he struggled to get his arms in the holes. "There he is!" she praised when his head popped out, playing an impromptu game of peek a boo. He giggled, amused at her silly antics. She knelt, grunting as she fought to tug the onesie down past the ridiculous bulge of his thick diaper, struggling to snap it closed. He wobbled slightly as she yanked and pulled on the onesie bottom. He pulled at the lace on the collar, sighing softly once his scars were safely out of sight. Lili told him he was pretty; she’d even kissed his scars. He blushed, both pleased and ashamed. So many people over so many years had been horrified of his monstrous scars. Bullies at school saddled him with his Freddy Kreugar nickname. He’d been conditioned to hide his scars, to always keep them covered. Even when he was alone, he felt safer with them hidden from view. Cameron fidgeted,tugging on his sleeves. Snap. Snap. Snap. He heard the onesie crotch snap into place. "Hah. Totally knew it would fit." Lili congratulated herself then stood up and held out the pants once more. He placed his hands on her shoulders for balance and stepped in one foot at a time. Tiny snaps ran along the inseam with a generous, diaper accommodating crotch. The metal snaps were painted baby blue, blending in with the cloth. Baby blue pants with a frilly yellow onesie. He looked more like a baby girl with a prominent diaper bulge than a big boy. "Hell’s bells, you look like a baby girl. So much for being a big boy, yeah?" Lili laughed. Cameron blushed and shifted, diaper crinkling. The soft padding clung to him from the powder and rash paste coating him. "I'm not a girl...I like being a boy..." He voiced his opinion hesitantly. What he wanted or liked was not often taken into consideration by those in charge of him. Lili eyed the hoodie she had grabbed. It was from Disneyland in France. Cream with Winnie the Pooh on it, zip front so Cameron's lacey Peter pan collar would pop out on top. She held the hoodie up and Cameron obediently slid his arms in. She tugged here and there, adjusting it, pulling his onesie collar out then zipping it up. She stepped back to admire his outfit. His pretty face only made him look more girly. A big girl, not a grown up. Hell, not even teenager. He went from baby boy to little girl, and even that image was destroyed by the bulge of his titanic diaper straining against his pants. There was simply no hiding something that massive and noisy. "That’s not much of an improvement, is it?" Lili appraised. “Even your big boy clothes aren’t very big.” She cut herself off before she almost added, ‘no wonder the other kids picked on you.’ Cameron shrunk shyly under her scrutiny. He looked down. His outfit was kinda babyish, maybe, but he felt like a big boy in it. How did Lili see it as girly? No dress, and no pink. Pastel blue and yellow and cream; those were baby colors. Big girls could wear pastels. Boys weren’t supposed to? But he’d seen normal teen boys wearing them. It had to be the lace on the onesie collar. He peeked questioningly up at Lili and almost felt like he was under his grandmother’s judgemental glare. Beatrice would be very upset if she knew he had gone out in public. Good babies stayed inside where they belonged. "Cameron? Baby?" Lili watched his face fall and he lowered his head again, closing himself off from her. She took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You look cute! Really cute. I’m just being weird and oversensitive cuz of this crap Asha has me wearing.” She gestured to her own outfit. "...Maybe...we just stay here? No ice cream?" His voice was soft, sad, reluctant to make the suggestion. "Why?" Lili’s eyebrows shot up, not expecting that reaction. He winced. "Cuz...gwamma-grandma- won't l-like it. I....should be..a good boy." He mumbled, almost slipping into a toddler lisp. "Bullshit." At the harsh swear, his head flew up in shock. Lili gave a sharp nod of her head for emphasis. "You’re a good baby. You're also a big boy. We're just going for ice cream. It's not a crime, and I've got your diaper bag right... here. Somewhere. Well, I had it." She’d found the one his nannies kept packed and ready to go inside his closet. That showed how often he got to go anywhere. “B-but-” “No buts. I’m the babysitter. I’m calling the shots. I’ll handle the old bat if she says anything. So, we’re going.” Lili spoke with all the finality and easy confidence as she had in school, when she’d promised Cameron she’d become his babysitter. Cameron stared at her dubiously. She was his babysitter, but she felt more like a friend and caregiver rolled into one. The babysitting thing hadn’t gone as smoothly as she’d promised. Somehow, she was being punished for something with her own horridly preppy outfit. Deep in his bones, he knew she was overestimating this little jaunt, too. “I’ll protect you. You’ll be safe. Everything will be fine. The old bird won’t even know we were out. It’s just a little bit of ice cream, not a federal crime. What could possibly go wrong?” He continued to stare and chewed his lower lip. He wanted his binky, but he was trying to be a big boy, and big boys didn’t use binkies. He fingered the paci Lili had put in the pocket of his hoodi. “Maybe…” He wavered. He could practically taste the cold, sweet treat right now. He’d be out with Lili, just the two of them. Lots of people went out for ice cream every day. His babysitter said it was okay, so he really wasn’t being a bad boy, was he? Maybe Grandma wouldn’t mind, just this once? “O-okay…” “Yay. We’re going to have so much fun!” Lili’s head swiveled as she cheered, looking for the diaper bag. She found it by the closet door where she’d tossed it. Before Cameron could change his mind, she slung it over one shoulder then grabbed his hand firmly and marched out if the nursery. He waddled frantically to keep up with her long stride. The rustling of his noisy diaper echoed in the vast hallways. Priscilla writhed against the soft, squishy mattress. The monstrosity of a diaper strapped to her crinkled and rustled with every little movement. How things had changed since Liliana waltzed into her room several weeks ago. The old hatred and rage were there, burning bright as ever. Her limbs flopped around as she flailed uselessly, struggling to go nowhere. She could not even roll over. One of her padded booties kicked into a hard metal bars that surrounded her. Prissy opened her mouth, screaming her displeasure and drooling down her chin, onto her bib. One padded, smitten covered hand bonked herself in the head, making her wail more in frustration. The door opened and a smiling face peered about her crib as a new home care worker bustled in. "Aww, sweetie. I heard you fussing on the monitor, yes I did." She cooed as if Priscilla was a baby, and not a disabled young woman with a functioning brain. How Prissy hated this bitch. She growled her displeasure at the demeaning coo. She’d been going through a string of caregivers. Most of them lasted a week or two before they refused her case, due to her habits of biting, spitting, and screaming. A couple of times she’d managed a few good hair pulls. Due to the traumatic injury of her brain, she couldn’t even speak coherently anymore. She had no way to communicate. Sure, therapists had tried multiple times to teach her some new ways, had brought in different devices for her to try. She couldn’t control her hands enough to work the buttons, so they’d given her a stick to hold in her mouth, to type out letter by letter. She wanted none of that; she wanted to talk normally, to be normal and healthy and whole once more. Nothing else would do. The caregiver lowered one protective side railing of her hospital bed. Instead of the professional white scrubs of a home caregiver, this lady dressed like a Mary Poppins knock off in her old fashioned nanny uniform. "What's wrong, princess? Did you make poppies?" She cooed and Prissy cringed on the inside, grunting on the outside as the nanny poked at at the humongous diaper bulge. Cases of those horrible, awful clown diapers Lili had put her in sat stacked in one corner of the room. Unlike her old briefs, these damn diapers kept her try and lasted for hours. She hated them, but the caregivers loved them. Prissy wanted her old life back. At least most of the home care workers were professional and courteous, still calling the clown diapers briefs and talking to her on an equal level. The day after Lily's visit and many spectacular tantrums by Prissy, several of the home care workers stopped coming. Lili filled in, which only prompted more screaming and biting from Priscilla. Substitute workers filled in, only to refuse her case the next day. This went on for a while, then *she* came. The bitch that took her case on full-time. Isabelle. Oh, how Prissy hated that whore and her Spanish soap operas. The woman was a former regression therapy nanny. Her training overlapped enough with home care that she could cross over the professions. But she didn’t act like any healthcare worker Prissy had met before. She acted more like a nanny, talking down to Prissy, cooing at her, treating her like a baby. Ignoring her most of the time to watch those stupid soap operas. Adult respect, body integrity, autonomy were all gone. Thrown away like a dirty diaper. Diaper, not brief. Bibs. She had spat at Isabelle on the first day. Isabelle merely wiped it off and left Prissy in a dirty diaper until she got a nasty rash. Prissy had shrieked and hollered until her throat was sore, but no one had paid attention due to all her previous tantrums. They wrote it off as just another screaming fit like all the rest had been. Grandma Jill hadn’t been in to visit her once. Grandpa Jack popped in once, stared at her as if he wasn’t sure who she was or what he was looking at, then just as quickly he was gone. Lili came round just to tease her, sometimes poke at her diaper, but her torment was toned down. That freaky bitch of a cousin rubbed salt into her wounds as she raided her closet, taking her clothes out and parading around in them like everyday was Halloween. Mocking Prissy, trying to prove she was better than her. Prissy was surprised Lili hadn’t tried out for the cheerleading team. The only constant visitor she had was her grandfather’s whore. Asha scared her even more than psychotic Lili did. The woman wore the latest fashions, bought for her no doubt by Jack. She glided around like a queen, like she belonged in Priscilla’s world. Like she was an equal to Jill. She didn’t talk down to Priscilla; she talked to her as if Prissy were any normal young woman with a functioning brain. Prissy appreciated that, but that whore still slept in her married grandfather’s bed. This was the woman who raised the abomination that was Liliana. Asha read classic poetry aloud to Prissy. Asha was kind and soft spoken, gentle and well bred in her mannerisms. But there was something lurking in her eyes that chilled Priscilla to the bone. A dark, cold monster lurked in there. During all that poetry and sweet talking, Prissy felt like Asha was studying her. Dissecting her, learning what made her tick. Asha’s words and voice were as gentle as a butterfly, but her eyes held the gaze of a hungry predator. Prissy shuddered just thinking of that dead gaze. She squealed when she felt a finger poking inside a leg gathering of her diaper. “Aww, you’re just a little damp. That big diapee can hold a lot more pee-pee. You’re just beng a fussy buttons, yes you are!” Isabelle cooed, patting Prissy’s diapered crotch. The plastic crinkled loudly under her touch. “Uh-oh, somebody’s making more tinkles right now!” The sugary sweet coos churned Prissy’s blood. Her growl died in her throat as she realized what Nanny Cuntcakes was saying. She was peeing herself, and she didn’t even realize it. Prissy’s eyes widened as inside she howled in helpless rage.

"What the fuck is this?" Reila sneered down at her plate. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn't want this weird-looking, strange smelling shit. She'd found the old fashioned bathroom and ripped the diaper off first thing. It had felt weird, so wonky and bulky; probably because she hadn't put it on very well. But she'd kept it dry. Reila had smiled to herself as she sat down and actually peed on the toilet. Her bladder problems were from stress, that was all. She was sure of it, now. Here she was, at her journey's end, diaper dry and peeing in the toilet like a big girl. She had smiled happily, not even fighting when her mother had called her for dinner. She'd been in a happy mood, elated at keeping her pants dry. She was not like Nicky or Rachel at all; she did not need diapers. As she had skipped down the stairs, she had felt a pang of guilt. She didn't need diapers, but they did. Maybe….maybe she shouldn't have lashed out at Nicky? The boy couldn't even walk, after all….But if she was nice to him, befriended him, wasn't that the same as admitting she was just like him? 'Hey, we both need diapers, so let's be friends?!" No, she was not like Nicky at all, so she could not- would not- be his friend. Now Reila sat down to dinner, still in those ugly pink sweatpants and her teal sweater. Uschi hadn't given either one time to change; supper had been ready and on the table when they arrived. It had annoyed Reila, but she was so happy to be out of that fucking monstrous diaper she didn't care about the sweatpants. She was panty and diaper less and it felt wonderful. Like a big, sexy girl. Her stomach growled with hunger; she'd only picked moodily at the airplane food. Yet staring down at the pungent plate made her miss the airplane food. Her bowl was filled with some goopy, soupy bright red-purple broth and red-purple chunks with something that vaguely looked like shredded meat and a few green leaves. Next to it sat a plate with thick slices of toasted homemade bread topped with…..Reila didn't know what the hell it was. Slices of..some kind of meat she'd never seen before. The meat looked like it had gelatin in it; it was reddish pink with darker red bits and thick chunks of white. LIke some kind of gelatin loaf with meat bits instead of actual meat. And what was the white stuff? It looked too solid to be fat. "Reila, please. Just try it. You might like it. Great grandma went to all this trouble to make it. You should show her you appreciate it." Sonja cajoled. "Just a few bites now and I'll try to make something you like in a little bit." "What. Is. It?" Reila crossed her arms, refusing to touch her utensils. She glowered at her mother, demanding an explanation. She watched as Sonja took tentative bites of the red soupy goup, ignoring her own toast and meat-jelly topping. "It's…it's traditional food. I know it looks a little weird. And smells funny. But…it's really not that bad…" Sonja pleaded with a tired sigh. what little backbone she'd had was gone; they'd arrived safe and sound and she just wanted to relax. To eat, bathe, sleep. Just once, she wanted Reila to behave. "Borscht. Russian dish. I learned from my first husband." Uschi spoke up after swallowing a mouthful. Red juice stained her puckered, thin lips. She smacked them in satisfaction. "Reminds me of him, everytime I make." She spoke in heavily accented English and stared at Reila. Her English was not that good, but she knew a smart mouth when she heard one, regardless of language. "Headcheese. Is other. Little girl will try." Reila wrinkled her eyebrows, face scrunched up in confusion. She looked to her mother for explanation. She'd never heard of either dish. "Borscht? Headcheese?" The head cheese sounded as gross as it looked; she looked down at the loaf of meat chunks on the bread. Just what was in that stuff? Sonja winced, but she knew Reila would only fuss if she didn't explain, and Uschi would not tolerate that, so Sonja tried to straddle both. "Borscht is mostly beets and some seasonings. Really, it's good. You should try some. It would make great grandma happy." "And the head cheese?" Reila's tone grew snippy; she knew her mother danced around the subject for some reason. "Just…It's made with…with different parts of an animal. It's kind of like eating any lunch meat. You like lunch meat. So you'll probably like this, too." Sonja could barely stomach the stuff, and her head hurt just imagining the fit Reila would pitch if she knew. "Is from pig. Cow. Sheep, sometime. Made from head. Tongue. Heart. Feet, too. Sometime. No worries. Take out brain. Eyes. Ears. Is okay. You try." Uschi spoke up, overriding Sonja's verbal evasion and dithering. Sonja slumped in her seat, waiting for the emotional fireworks. She wanted to duck under the table and hide until it was over. Reila's eyes widened as her brain processed Uschi's broken, accented English. Her empty stomach roiled at the head cheese. Not a cheese at all. A meat jelly made from the crushed head of an animal. Disgusting. The white gunk was probably cartilage. She glanced down at the meat and was sure she could see eyeballs in it, and bits of skull, despite Uschi's claim those parts were removed. "I'M NOT EATING THAT SHIT!" Reila shoved her plate and bowl away in disgust. Bits of red juice slopped over the rim, splashing onto the lacy tablecloth. She jumped up from the table to storm off to her room. She'd rather go hungry than eat that! Her chair scraped loudly on the polished, dark wooden floor. Uschi's blue can slammed on hard on the table, making the red borscht jiggle in the bowls. She may not fully understand Reila's fast English, but she knew attitude and backtalk when she saw it. "No. Little girl sit down. Eat. Or she get no food. Hungry belly teach you thankful for food. In hard times. During wars, was no food. You eat what you could, when could. Little girl will learn ancestors' hunger. Know the bad to appreciate the good." She finished her last sentence in German. Sonja shakily translated after a harsh glare in her direction from the diminutive, geriatric woman. Reila got most of what the shrivelled hag said, but it was that stern, reprimanding tone that resonated with her. Once in awhile Sonja got close to that tone. But never as fierce and challenging as Uschi. It was like the old bat WANTED her to rebel. "G-grandma, Reila's not used to this kind of f-food. Please. It was a long trip. Let her lay down and I'll fix her something later." Sonja tried to defuse the situation, thinking Uschi might be more pliable than Reila. She pleaded her case in German. "No. You spoil her rotten. You're her mother. Not her friend. Not her servant. Bah, Americans. You make the rules. Not her. You teach her how to behave. You're in charge, not little girl. Little girl eats now, or she goes hungry." Uschi didn't give an inch. To her descendents, her word was law. She shifted her gaze to Reila, then back to Sonja. "You tell little girl. Now." She spoke in German. "Whatever the old bat said, she can kiss my ass!" "Reila! This is Uschi's house. we're guests here. You really need to eat what she made. Or..or you get nothing. I won't make you anything later. I mean it. You'll…you'll go hungry." "Mom!" Reila whined. "Reila. You eat what Uschi made. Or you get nothing. You pick. Uschi says so." Sonja finished, her tone growing more confident as she spoke, as if using Uschi as an excuse somehow gave her the back up she needed to parent. Reila was used to bullying her mother into submission. Into doing what she wanted. She glared. Sonja winced, looked away, caught Uschi's disproving eye, and looked right back at Reila. Uschi's gaze never wavered. Silence progressed. Reila stood glaring at her mother; Sonja frowned right back. Uschi calmly sat down as the moments stretched out. She tucked back into her meal and calmly ate. Sonja chewed her lower lip, unsure what to do. Force Reila to eat? But that would only result in Reila screaming, maybe flipping the table over. She winced at the thought. She glanced at Uschi; her great grandmother stared back at her, motioned to her chair. Just…sit back down and eat? But what about her daughter? "Little girl can eat with us. Or little girl can go hungry." Uschi repeated in German, more to Sonja than to Reila. "You sit down and eat. Let little girl choose now." So Sonja hesitated then slowly sat down and ate as well. Reila just stood there while both ignored her. Uschi ate with ease while Sonja fidgeted, her spoon clanging against her bowl unnecessarily, as if the noise would somehow encourage Reila to sit back down and eat as well. Reila glared. They ignored her. Nothing. No reaction. Like she wasn't there; like she had up and left the room. No noise in the small room save for the clanging of metal spoons against porcelain bowls. The sounds of crunching and chewing as Uschi bit into her head cheese and toast. "FUCK OFF, BOTH OF YOU!" The rage bubbled up, boiling over. If they wouldn't pay attention to her, hear her out, then she would make them. Reila snarled and swept her plate and bowl off the table with an angry arm. Porcelain shattered on the wooden floor; red beets spattered in puddles, arcing through the air and up onto the nearest wall. Toast and head cheese were mostly unharmed; just toast crumbs mixing in with white shards and chunks of red beet and red juice. Uschi moved so fast Reila never saw the blue cane coming until it was too late. Reila's defiant triumph was short lived. Fiery pain exploded on her backside. She yelped, stumbling sideways from the force of the blow. Another blow knocked her completely off balance. She crashed to the floor hard as yet another blow rained down on her backside. Wave after wave of pain washed over her. Uschi timed her blows perfectly; the hand of an experienced disciplinarian. As the pain from one swat of the cane faded, another swat followed fresh and hot. Tears ran down Reila's face as sobs tore at her throat. She wailed wordlessly, trying to scream for Uschi to stop. Pain consumed her, swallowed her words and drowned her anger. She tried to roll, to kick out with her feet, knock the cane away, but tears blurred her vision and the pain coupled with repeated blows caused her to jerk and twitch, wriggling on the floor. Helpless and unable to escape. Uschi finished with one last swat, breathing heavily. The girl's backside would be tender and bruised; lingering pain to remind her to watch her mouth. Every movement, every flash of pain would bring back memories of her getting beat, which in turn would remind her why she was beat. Through it all, Sonja just stood, staring miserable at the spectacle. She knew Uschi hit; when she'd been here as a child, she'd felt the wrath of Uschi's wooden spoon and metal pancake turner on her young, tender backside. But….to hit her daughter with a cane? Wasn't that abuse? Uschi was so old and looked so frail, so surely she wasn't hitting Reila *that* hard? And Reila was a drama queen; she'd never been spanked before, so her cries were probably more from the shock of it all than actual pain. Still, Sonja should stop it, right? All those parenting books said how awful and damaging spanking was…. Once the punishment was over, Reila lay in a sobbing heap on the ground and Uschi stood over her, panting from the exertion. "Um…..that's not….I….I don't believe in spanking. Parenting experts say it's wrong to hit a child. Reila's my child. So you…what did you think you were doing?" Sonja stuttered in nervous German. Her stern great-grandmother had always intimidated her. But she had to stand up to her; had to start being a better mother. Or trying to, anyway. "Doing what you failed to do." Uschi's blue cane swung up; the rubber tip stopped an inch from Sonja's face. Sonja took a hasty step backwards. Well did she remember the bite of Uschi's blows; her backside tingled in sympathy for her daughter. "Hitting a child will damage them? Bah! Rubbish! Look!" She jabbed one gnarled finger of her other hand down at Reila on the floor. "She's already a rotten little monster. Spare the rod and spoil the child. You created that mess. Now I brought you here to clean it up. Teach you to fix your mistakes." "Maybe spanking was okay when you were young. But the world is different; times have changed. If…if you keep…hitting my daugher…I'll…I'll…w-we'll leave…" Sonja's bravado was brief, her threat just empty hot air. Uschi smiled sweetly at her great granddaughter. "The door is always open. I didn't force you to come here, child. I invited you. You chose to come, knowing full well what it's like here. Remember that. It's a long, expensive way back to your America." Each word was spoken without malice; straightforward and matter of fact. Yet that only made them cut deeper into Sonja. Uschi gentled her words and lowered her cane. "You have nothing in America. Not even family. You came here to stay. Start over. That little girl needs a strong mother. Tough love. Little Reila is paving herself a road straight to hell." "She-I-" Sonja stuttered weakly, the strength of Uschi's words seeming to steal what little vigor Sonja had. She leaned against the back of a chair for support. Uschi turned, heading towards the dining room door. "Be a dear and clean this up." She opened the door, paused with her hand on the knob. "Reila's still young. She still has hope. She needs you to be a mother. Otherwise….well, it's the holiday season, and this is an old land. Blessings are abundant, but so are curses. Old yuletide spirits run amok. Maybe Krampus will come to visit." She smiled an eerie, crooked smile, then left, closing the door behind her softly. Sonja sank to her knees, Uschi's parting words washing over her. She brushed that off as senile old lady talk. Her thoughts tumbled and jumbled about like clothes in a dryer. No job. No money. Not even on a government wait list for assistance. Desperation had driven her here, across the ocean, to the only family they had. The only one to extend them a helping hand. A sturdy, beautiful house- unlike their rundown, roach infested apartment in America. Delicious home cooked meals made from scratch. Sonja had never been much of a cook herself; most of the things she made came out of boxes or frozen. Here, local law enforcement did not know Reila's background. No criminal record. A clean, fresh start. Even if great grandma was overly strict and senile. It was just her age, and the way she had been raised. She couldn't help it, and she meant well. Sonja would just have to learn to be more assertive with her geriatric relative. Reila's soft, pain filled sobs banished that thought as quickly as it came. Uschi may be old, but she could still give a good thrashing with her cane. And Krampus? Sonja snorted, recalling her own mother scaring her with bedtime Christmas stories about the cloven-hooved, horned anti-Santa. St. Nicholas rewarded the good, nice children with toys and sweets while Krampus, with his chains and long red tongue, punished the bad, naughty children with beatings or dragging the really naughty ones off to hell. Sonja's mother- Reila's grandmother- had passed away when Reila was still a baby, so Reila never heard the tales of Krampus. Sonja considered them too morbid and damaging for young, innocent, tender ears. A faint scent tickled her nose under the lingering aroma of Uschi's cooking. Urine. Sonja automatically looked at Reila, who lay face down on the polished, dark wooden floor. A yellow puddle formed under her waist and hips. Her daughter looked like a giant lying in a small urine lake. Reila still sobbed, hiccupping interspersed with teary, snotty, gasping breaths. Oblivious to having peed herself. Or perhaps she knew and cried all the more because of it. Just another mess for Sonja to clean up, as always. She sighed. Snow fell gently in huge, flat flakes that glowed in the evening gloom. The setting sun and rising stars were blocked by heavy dark gray clouds that seemed to press onto the land. The only source of light seemed to be the thick blanket of snow that coated the rural, small alpine village. Several big bonfires roared merrily on the village green while small festival stalls sold beer, cider, hot chocolate, mulled wine, pretzels and little spicy sausages on sticks The main road through the village was cleared of traffic, as if for a Christmas parade that ended in the center of the village, on the village green. The few local constables stood by at key positions, on duty to keep the peace. Reila hung as far behind Sonja and Uschi as she could without garnering Uschi's attention. She was vigilant to stay out of striking distance of that horrible blue cane. It had been two days after the incident at supper, and her backside still throbbed. She had spent most of those days sleeping in bed, laying on her stomach. Uschi had ordered pull-ups for Reila ahead of time, from corresponding with Sonja before the trip. Reila had been doped up on over the counter pain meds that hadn't helped much. She had been able to keep her pull ups dry during the day; she only wet when she was asleep at night and when she'd nap during the day. That was the only thing that cheered her up. She viewed it as proof her bladder was getting better. Reila had wanted to call the police, have the old bat arrested for assault. She'd never been hit before, and she would not stand for it. Part of her was indignant, but a larger part feared it happening again. For two days, she had been quiet as a mouse, doing all she could to avoid great great grandma Uschi. Sonja had refused to call the police. "Uschi is a well respected member of this community. It's not like back home. We're far out in the country. In this village, they do things differently. More old-fashioned in their thinking. She's one of the village elders. We're not in a city. You can go to the police if you like, but they'll just say you deserved it. You'll have to speak to them in German; I'm not sure if they speak English. They'll probably just say you deserved it." She had hesitated, then added, "Which you did." Reila grit her teeth at the memory, feeling hurt, betrayed and abandoned all over again. Especially right after the beating. Sonja had left her laying there on the floor, sobbing in her own urine while Sonja cleaned up the broken crockery and spilled borscht, suzle the German head cheese, and toast crumbs. Only after dinner leftovers were put away, the kitchen clean, dishes done, Sonja finally came to her daughter. Sonja said nothing to Reila, merely pulling on her wrists, helping her stand up. Leading her into the bathroom, pulling off her pee-soaked clothes then letting Reila shakily climb into the tub to wash off. "You should have kept your diaper on." Sonja had finally spoken as she left her daughter alone in the bathroom to cry some more. To wash herself with shaking hands, unable to sit in the tub due to the fiery pain on her backside. Reila had to squat on her feet; she'd been able to do little more than squirt herself off with the detachable shower head. She cried through drying herself off; her leg and back muscles shook, sore and aching from the blows, not wanting to cooperate with her. She'd stumbled, dripping wet, to her new bedroom. Sonja had found the pull-ups; she had at least laid out a clean pull-up, clean pajamas, and had set a small cup of milk and small plate with a thick slice of Uschi's homemade toast slathered in a dark purple jam. The pull-ups were all white and thicker than the thin, pretty purple ones Reila was used to wearing. But they were so much thinner than those horrible, awful diapers she had been wearing, and they pulled up just like underwear, so Reila hadn't cared. She'd almost smiled when she put it on with jerky movements. So wonderfully thin, quiet and discrete. The toast and milk- Uschi had said no food for Reila, but Sonja defied her anyway. Maybe her mother had not fully abandoned her. Now, Sonja and Uschi walked ahead of Reila down the snowy path into the village. The sidewalks were heavily salted; Uschi was surprisingly stable in her boots and with her blue cane, while Sonja hoovered uncertainly besides her, as if she was afraid the old woman would slip and fall. She kept trying to reach out and hold Uschi's elbow, only for Uschi to wave her off. A blast of sharp, frigid wind whipped up, biting right into Reila. She shivered, her breath misting every time she exhaled, like smoke curling from a dragon's nostrils. It was so much colder here than back home. Here was now home. Reila grimaced at the thought, tilting her head back up at the night heavy with lead colored clouds. The huge mountains surrounding them were invisible in the snowy gloom. Winter here was like a giant who slumbered all summer atop the distant snowy peaks, then upon waking swooped down on frigid wings to devour the land. Her thin, trendy and name brand winter jacket did little to keep her warm. Back home in the States it had been just fashionably fine. Uschi had offered her a heavy, puffy coat that was decades old and reeked of mothballs. Reila flat out refused; Uschi had just shrugged, said, "Little girl likes to learn hard way." In thick, broken English. Now, Reila froze her ass off and wished she had worn the hideous coat. "How much longer?" Reila spoke up, practically shouting to be heard over the wind. She spoke to her mom, but her eyes fastened on Uschi's back, just waiting apprehensively for her to whirl around and swing that damned evil cane at her again. Sonja glanced over her shoulder. She had worn one of Uschi's old coats; it was ugly yet toasty warm. "The Krampuslauf hasn't even started yet." "I'm cold. This is stupid. I wanna go back to the house." Reila whined in a shrill voice, hoping her mother would cave just to avoid a scene. She stared hopefully at her face; she could tell by Sonja's frown and scrunched eyes she was considering letting Reila go back to Uschi's house. "Please Mom! It's cold. I'm tired. I don't wanna go to some stupid parade. This sucks." Reila whined some more, watching her mother's expression waver. Uschi coughed pointedly and gave Sonja a sharp look. Sonja winced, withering under that stern gaze. Finally, she spoke, spitting the words out as if she had something sour and unpleasant in her mouth. "Reila, enough. We went over this already. You should have worn the coat great grandma gave you. The Krampuslauf is a very old tradition. You're just….just going to have to suck it up. Next time, take grandma Uschi's advice. Besides, this is supposed to be a fun event. You could learn a bit about your heritage." Reila stomped her foot; Uschi's head whipped back to her. Reila's sharp retort died on her tongue; her eyes immediately flew to the blue cane in Uschi's hand. Her bruised, swollen butt twinged; she cringed at the pain and the memory of the beating. "Hard way." Was all Uschi said in German. Reila swallowed her venomous retort. The words burned her throat; she longed to hurl them at Sonja and Uschi. She glanced away in a snit fit, glaring. At least she didn't have a diaper on. Or even a pull-up. Reila had kept her pants dry two whole days when she'd been awake. Sonja had wanted her to wear a pull-up, just in case. Reila had taken it off just before they left. She smiled at the rebellion, feeling her jeans brush over her sensitive, bare privates. She would finally prove, once and for all, she did not need diapers. She would keep her pants dry throughout the entire night. Ahead, the brightly glowing bonfires beckoned, sparks dancing in the dark like fairies of yore come to play. Reila tugged uselessly on her thin coat; it was more of a jacket than a coat, and did little to protect her from the winter chill. The people gathered near the bonfires looked toasty warm. Her mother looked warm if horrendously unstylish in one of Uschi's puffy, old coats. Uschi and Sonja talked in German, still walking ahead of Reila. Some people in the noisy crowd called out Uschi's name as they approached, beckoning the trio over. Sonja crinkled her nose; the last thing she wanted was to be around any country bumpkins who actually liked Uschi. Seeing Sonja and Uschi absorbed in a conversation she could barely understand and had no interest in, Reila slunk off towards the nearest fire, weaving her way between the crowd. People carried steaming paper cups, cheeks pink from the winter chill and, for the adults, the festive spirits in their cups. They chattered in excited voices while children ran about, prancing in nervous excitement as if something both very good and very bad was about to happen. Reila just wanted to be warm. She'd much rather be back at Uschi's big house, wondering if her unemployed mother had managed to buy her any presents this year. She suspected not. The huge fire crackled merrily and Reila staked her spot just inside the circle of warmth. She sighed happily as a wave of warmth washed over her, chasing away the cold bite of winter. She was at the front of the parade route, and stood her ground with sharp elbow jabs to anyone who jostled her. If she had to stay out in this frozen hellhole, she'd damn well have a prime view of all the hubbub. It was nice to be away from her nagging mother and the violent, deranged old bat. On her own, she felt like a grown up. Not a pants-wetting, diaper-needing little kid tagging along at her mommy's side. She sneered at the humiliating thought. What the hell was the point of this stupid nighttime parade anyway? Reila listened to the chatter surrounding her, a sea of gibberish noise. She caught very few words. Krampus. Krampus. Krampus. The horned, goat-faced satanic Santa. Saint Nicholas rewarded good children, and Krampus punished the naughty ones. Tonight was the Krampuslauf. Sonja had told Reila about it at dinner; Reila had barely listened. She thought it was stupid. A bunch of drunken young men running around in demonic goat costumes. It sounded more akin to a Halloween thing. Some dark, pagan ritual that had somehow survived through the ages and became entwined with Saint Nicholas. Alcohol and senseless inebriation sounded great; Reila hadn't been drunk since the last time she'd been arrested. Closer to the fire, she caught the admiring glance of a glassy-eyed drunken man, his hazy gaze focused on the tight fit of her jeans, hugging the curves of her backside. She smirked at him, glad she'd taken off her pullup. She didn't plan on being here very long. "Pardon! Pardon! Make way! Disabled coming through!" A female voice called out. Someone jostled Reila; she stumbled but kept her balance, and her spot. "Watch where you're going, stupid fuck." She snarled. She was not giving up her place by the fire for anyone. "Sorry! Please, excuse us." A sweet voice followed the shout of the female voice. Dread curdled in Reila's stomach at that voice. She looked around then groaned at who suddenly stood beside her. "Nicky." The girly-looking boy was standing, his face near Reila's. The shiny aluminum of his forearm crutches glinted with flickering reflections of red, yellow, and orange flames. His red, feminine wool coat flared out at the waist like a dress and was trimmed in fluffy white fur. Heavy, sturdy plastic and metal braces encased his slim legs, partially hidden by his knee-length coat and fashionably fur trimmed snow boots. He leaned forward, all his slender weight balanced on those crutches, as if they were the only things holding him up. "Hi Riley." Nicky smiled, speaking in accented English. His pale cheeks colored as Reila continued to stare at his braces and crutches. He shifted his weight to one hip, leaning on his crutches. Under the noise of the crowd, this close to him, Reila heard a faint crinkle and knew he was diapered like he always was. "Don't ever call me that. It's Reila." She snarled, head snapping up to glare at his smiling face. A white fur hat perched at an angle on his head, and a matching scarf wrapped around his neck. He really looked like a beautiful girl. Her lips sneered, sickened. "Oh, sorry. I thought it sounded cute. Have you been to a Krampuslauf before?" Nicky's happy smile never faltered. His constant joy grated on her nerves. Why couldn't he just fuck off and leave her the hell alone? She looked around; the crowd was dense as if the entire fucking village crammed in. If she moved, she'd have to leave the warmth of the fire. She narrowed her eyes, tempted to push him over. The crowd left her no choice but to tolerate him. "No. It's fucking stupid. My mom made me come." Reila crossed her arms, looking away from him, into the empty, snow covered lane. "I think it's fun. A little scary, too. You should give it a chance, you might like it." Nicky deftly ignored Reila's sniping tone. How did he brush that off so easily? She scowled at him. "Where's your wheelchair? And those fucking annoying bells?" Fat snowflakes started drifting down from the purple-black clouds as dark as the bruises on Reila's backside. "It doesn't go very good in the snow. Salt and snow get stuck in the grooves of my wheels and I track that through the house. It just makes a mess to clean up and annoys Az." "So your babysitter let you run loose in your gimp get up?" Reila motioned towards his leg braces and crutches, causing him to blush some more. The smells of roasting cinnamon and sugar coated nuts and sizzling mini sausages on sticks filled the crisp air as people coming from the vending stalls with food worked their way through the crowd. She was suddenly aware of people all around her sipping from steaming cups and munching and crunching on hot candied nuts. She wished she had some money- Euros, Marks, whatever the fucking hell these hillbillies used- to get some roasted nuts and cup of hot mulled wine. She licked her lips, spying her mother and great great grandmother in the crowd further down the line, in the cold away from the crackling fires. Sonja held a steaming bag of nuts and Uschi held two styrofoam cups; her drink and Sonja's. For a wild moment, Reila regretted slinking off. If she'd stayed with her family, she could have had warm food and hot drink in her belly. Uschi and Sonja chatted, Uschi saying something that made Sonja laugh. In that happy, carefree moment, Sonja looked years younger. Almost like a stranger. She wondered just how well she knew her mother. She stared then abruptly jerked her head away. "I just gotta be careful. And Az is with me." Nicky gazed down at the rubber covered tips of his crutches, buried in the snow, and at the tip of his snow dusted boots. His coat and boots covered most of his leg braces, hiding them from view. They were called HKAFO braces, or hip knee ankle foot orthotics; they went from the bottom of his feet, up his legs, to around his pelvis. They gave strength and structure to his numb, limp legs that he could not feel and could barely control. The crutches let him balance and walk. Using his braces and crutches tired him out, but he liked using them; they allowed him to stand up. As if his words were were a summoning, a girl appeared behind Nicky, one arm snaking around his waist to hold him steady as she kissed the back of his neck above his scarf. "Mm. This is some of the best mulled wine in the world." The scent of warm oranges and spice filled the air. Reila turned to look at Nicky, licking her lips at the scent. That voice was the same one that had shouted for her to move earlier. She stared at the newcomer. The girl was tall- a full head taller than Nicky and Reila. Loose black curls tumbled from her pink woolen hat. The hat was stretched and stuffed, as if the girl had a lot more hair tucked up under it, like she was hiding something up there. Her coat was dark gray and the same style as Nicky's, minus the fur. A long, heavy woolen skirt dragged on the ground, hiding her feet. The hem was wet and dusted with snow. Bright, icy blue eyes met Reila's own, freezing her down to the marrow of her bones. Reila shivered, those eyes holding her captive. The girl smirked, holding the cup out. "You're Nicky's little friend, the diaper girl. Want a sip?" "I don't need diapers you fucking bitch. Give me that." Reila's face flushed red with remembered humiliation, recalling the plane incident and the huge, soft diaper forcing her legs apart in an embarrassing waddle. She snatched at the cup of steaming mulled wine. The girl in the pink hat pulled it away just as Reila's fingertips brushed the warm styrofoam. "Just kidding! Babies who take their diapees off and go pee-pee everywhere aren't ready for grown up drinks like this." She took a long drink of the wine, eyes dancing in mirth over the rim of her cup. "The fuck you just say? How the hell you know that?!" Reila demanded, fists balling as she stared at those mocking eyes. She wanted to punch the bitch in her smiling face then cram the damn up down her fucking throat for making fun of her. The fact that this stranger knew of her humiliation burned, adding more fuel to the fire. "Enough! Azrael, be nice!" Nicky hollered, his big, dark eyes round as if he even surprised himself with his outburst. Both girls stared at him, surprised at the timid, disabled girly boy speaking up. He blushed when he realized two sets of eyes focused on him; he shyly lowered his gaze to the snowy tips of his boots and crutches. "Reila, this is Azrael Ruprecht. Az, this is Reila." He spoke softly, not looking up as he introduced the two. "She knows because of Aunt Emma Jean." That name and the haunting memory of neon pink velour smothered Reila's anger under a thick blanket of humiliation. Her cheeks went from angry fire engine red to the rosey pink of shame. So, the diapered gimp was that awful woman's niece. Nephew. Figures. Would she treat Nicky just like she did her own daughter Rachel? Reila shivered at the thought. That wretched woman probably told all and sundry about her plane ride and the autistic girl who ripped her diaper off, peed on another passenger and locked herself in the bathroom. Reila wanted the ground to open up and swallow her at those memories. "Good old Aunt Emma Jean, the mayor of Crazy Town." The girl in the pink hat, Azrael, curled her upper lip in distaste. "She's…she means well." Nicky softly countered with a grimace. Aunt Emma Jean had come down from Munich with some other family members for the holidays. After the bathroom incident on the plane, Emma Jean hadn't seen Sonja and Reila at departure due to a large crowd and they travelled in different directions. But now Emma Jean was down here in the same small rural village. "She's a fucking psycho. I didn't rip my diaper off. Pull-up!" Reila blurted, momentarily forgetting about her fight with the other girl. She was overjoyed someone else finally shared her view on the neon pink nightmare. Az smiled at her outburst, but said nothing. She held the warm wine up to Nicky's pink lips. "Baby Nicky want's a sip?" The styrofoam rim pressed into the soft flesh of his lower lip in teasing invitation. Nicky turned his head away from the cup, pouting up at her. "Be nice." He chided. She rolled her eyes and took another drink. "You're no fun, baby boy." He blushed at the endearment. "Azrael's not a German name." Reila glared at the wine cup. Bitch wouldn't let her have any, but she'd share with the cripple? "German on my father's side, only partially German on my mother's. She named me." Az grinned, delighted Reila had noticed. "She's named after the angel of death." Nicky supplied in a low mumble. "That's fucked up. Your mom worship satan or something?" Reila stared in shock. Nicky winced at her blunt rudeness. Az just laughed. "She's a demon. Mostly. Little bit of Krampus in her bloodline, too." Reila glared, realizing Az was having a joke at her expense. "You're a bitch." "It's the Gospel Truth." Az snorted, raising her cup up in a silent toast to Reila before taking a long pull of the spicy brew. "Ah, yeah. That's the stuff." She licked her lips appreciatively. "Worth coming here every year just for this." She drained the rest of her cup then tossed it into a nearby garbage can. "Let's try to get along?" Nicky asked in exasperation. He shifted his weight on his crutches, snow crunching under his boots along with the loud rustle of his diaper. "Reila's not a German name, either." Az said, lips pulling back to reveal very white, very sharp looking teeth. A dentist's wet dream, right before she bit his fingers off. "My stupid mother named me after a fucking lame song. So what?" Reila crossed her arms in challenge. "It's not much of a name, is it?" "Az." Nicky chided softly like a child trying to reprimand his mother. "What?" Az replied sweetly. "It's a perfectly fine name!" Reila stamped an angry foot. She felt her jeans brush over her bare privates and backside. The coarse material agitated the bruises on her buttocks and she winced. "It's nonsensical. No tradition, no heritage. You've clearly lost touch with your heritage." Az spoke this part in German. Reila narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?" "Exactly." Az grinned, using English this time. "You're both incorrigible." Nicky rolled his eyes. Az laughed. "This truly is the best night of the year." She turned her head to the empty lane lined with people on both sides. The wind blew her long, dark curls about her. "It's fucking stupid. I'm freezing my ass off just to watch drunk morons in monster costumes run around." Reila stomped her feet. Her legs stung from the cold wing, flesh tingling despite the waves of heat from the roaring bonfire. Fingers of icy wind punctuated the fire's warmth, creeping through her pants to her bare crotch. For a fleeting moment, she wished she had the padding of a pull-up as a barrier. Even those horrible thick diapers would have kept her privates warm. Thinking of diapers made her remember her bladder; she looked around the crowd but could not see a bathroom. She was just going to have to hold it. Reila scowled. She didn't have to go that bad. Not yet, anyway. She wished she'd worn a pull-up. Just in case. Not that she needed one. How long could a stupid parade last? She'd be fine. Az snorted as if Reila said something stupid. "You don't get it, do you? It's the spirit of the people." She swept an arm out, gesturing to the crowd around them. "Look at their faces. Feel the excitement. Tonight, we revel in darkness. Celebrate sinful wickedness." "Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes at Az's melodramatics. "That's Halloween, fucking idiot. This is Christmas crap." The girl was getting on Reila's nerves. She'd rather keep company with overly cheerful, jolly, crippled, pants shitting, cross-dressing Nicky. Reila thought she was prettier than Az, but the bitch had bigger boobs and curvy hips. "Well, both do have roots in the same spiritual systems." "The fuck you talking about? Crazy bitch." Reila sneered. "Old, pagan Celtic and Christian beliefs coupled together. Some Christmas traditions have pagan roots. Blasphemous, yes?" Her eerie eyes danced, momentarily flashing brilliant blue with the flames of an eternal hellfire. Reila blinked, shuddering, suddenly cold all over. She stomped her feet some more, crunching snow, trying to get warm. She felt cold from the inside out, despite the wall of heat from the fire. Surely the brief glow in Az's eyes was a trick of the firelight, the night and surrounding snow. "Az. Christmas Eve is the best night. This time of year is all about the Christmas spirit. Joy, love, forgiveness, salvation, hope. Redemption." Nicky's gaze flicked to Reila on that last word. "It's what Santa and children's joy represent. We should embrace life as a child does Christmas morning." Az and Reila both rolled their eyes, saw each other doing it, then sneered at one another behind Nicky's back. "Yeah, yeah." Az said in a dismissive, bored tone as if she'd heard that lecture countless times before. "How's your diapee?" Without waiting for a reply, she lifted the back of his pretty, girly red coat to expose his visibly well-padded backside. The metal on his leg braces reflected orange flames of the bonfire. She cupped the bulging padding with her whole hand, squeezing the obvious diaper bulge. His thick diaper crinkled loudly; the red and white candy cane striped waistband of his diaper peeked out of his pants, leaving no doubt about his diapered condition. Az pulled the back of his diaper and pants out, peering down into his diaper. "Nope, no poopies yet. You're just a little wet." She cheerfully announced. Nicky blushed, looking around. People nearby were staring at the disabled boy getting his diaper checked. Nicky stared at them; upon meeting his gaze, they hastily looked away in embarrassment. Reila stared as well. Part of her wanted to gloat at Nicky's public diaper check, but she remembered the horrible ruckus Emma Jean had caused her on the airplane. She knew Nicky's humiliation all too well. Temptation to tease him danced on the tip of her tongue, but then the demonic bitch might make comments about Reila's diapers and pants-wetting. She blushed just thinking about it. "Az." Nicky whined softly in protest while the girl fixed his coat once more. She patted his padded backside. Because of his braces and crutches on the uneven snow, he couldn't even squirm away. "You're a good baby, Nicky." Az kissed his pink cheek. "How about you, Riley?" She leered at Reila's waist in imitation of the drunken man who had checked Reila out earlier. "Looks like some naughty girl didn't wear her diapees. Do you need to potty? Or you just gonna go pee-pees in your pants again? Maybe you do it to get mommy's attention?" "Fucking cunt. You're as fucking crazy as Emma Jean," Reila snarled, anger flaring up at the taunting. "You're wrong about tonight!" Nicky spat out quickly to interrupt before a fight could break out. "This is an old tradition about encouraging goodness. A warning to turn from sin. Punishments for being naughty." Again, Nicky looked at Reila as he spoke even though it was Azrael who was provoking her. "Fuck you. Whatever. Who gives a shit? Just a fucking lame excuse for the village idiots to run around like drunk frat boys playing dress up." Reila ignored Nicky, her glare focused on Azrael. She wanted to punch the bitch's smug face and make her shut up. Kick her fucking cunt ass a good one. Doing that would only land Reila in jail and in front of a judge. Again. She didn't know how different the German court was from American court. And Uschi would undoubtedly beat her again. She cringed, suppressing the urge to rub her abused butt; more scared of great great grandma Uschi and her blue cane than she was of any police officer with handcuffs. "The parade should be starting soon." Nicky piped up, trying to break the tension. "Saint Nick gives candy to the kids and Krampus gives birch branches." "For old fashioned spankings." Az chuckled darkly and Reila shivered, thinking of Uschi's blue cane. Her bruised bottom twinged; she reflexively covered her butt. Az smiled at her as if knew what Reila was thinking. The icy wind picked up. Nicky shivered, leaning closer to Azrael as if searching for warmth. Az wrapped an arm around his tiny waist, pulling Nicky close to her. Reila shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her bladder twinged faintly and she thought of looking for a bathroom. "Traditionally, Krampus dragged the really naughty kids to hell. Sometimes he ate them." Azrael bared her teeth then playfully pretended to bite at Nicky's neck; he squeaked softly in protest. "That's horrible." Nicky was appalled. "Hey, it worked. Scared the rotten little shits into behaving." Az laughed, delighted. Reila ignored them both "So, Riley baby, are you afraid of Krampus? Of being on the naughty list?" "Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes, brushing the teasing off. She would not let that uppity bitch get her into trouble. Bells suddenly rang out in the noisy night. Heavy, clunky cow bells clanked chased by the dainty chime of sweet silver bells. Mixed in was the dull clank of thick metal chains. The clanking, chiming and clunking mixed together in a raucous, off-note cacophony. The crowd suddenly jostled one another, all turning their attention to the empty lanes in anticipation of the pagan parade. "Here they come!" Nicky exclaimed as the bells grew louder, drowning out the chatter of the crowd and the sharp crackles of the bonfires. The holiday parade appeared around a bend in the lane. Reila looked as well, swept up in the anticipation of the people surrounding her. Saint Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra, led the way. He was garbed in the traditional vestments of his station; a richly embroidered robe and warm cloak, a red mitre had that rose to a peak and was embroidered with cross in gold thread, and a curled, wooden shepherd's staff twisted with dainty silver bells. His red cloak and white, curly beard fluttered in the winter wind. His white robe was bright in the dark night and bonfire glow. At his side hung a red velvet bag trimmed in gold rope. Kids in the crowd squealed with delight at the sight of him. He reached into his bag, drawing out handfuls of candy and tossing them to the children, who scrambled around the feet of adults to grab as much candy as their little hands could hold. Behind St. Nick trudged an ambling, haphazard march of furry, horned monsters. They came in a wide variety; white, brown, black, beige and burlap sacks hung from their sides. Horns twisted high into the hair. Some carried chains they rattled in the air and smacked off the pavement while others swung large cow bells. Maybe it was the noise, the atmosphere, or the dark of night, but the realism of the costumes would do a Hollywood horror movie proud. They looked like a legion of demons freed from the bowels of hell. Children scrabbled to pick candy up from the snow or catch it in mid air as St. Nicholas threw it. The Krampuses were waiting; they jumped forward, huge claws extended. The kids screamed in terror, dashing behind their parents' legs for safety then giggling madly. Some boldly darted back out to snatch up dropped treats before other children could. Only to find another Krampus there to tease them with monstrous claws. The Krampuses tossed little bundles of gold painted birch twigs to parents and at the children cowering in the crowd. Treats for being good and rods to remind them what awaits for naughtychildren. The monsters staggered drunkenly about. Some of them tilted their heads back and howled at the newly risen moon. They darted all over the empty lane, ping-ponging madly between both sides of the crowd and randomly tossing out birch bundles. Saint Nick, on the other hand, calmly walked down the procession way tossing out candy. Reila stared down the snowy lane at the approaching, strange spectacle. She was not sure what she'd expected- certainly nothing like this. She hadn't given it much thought. Maybe something like an American parade with floats and crappy costumes as they calmly, orderly marched past, waving to the crowd and tossing out candy. Certainly nothing like this! Halloween horror led by a priest. No fat man in red suit, no "ho ho hos". Not American at all. Next to her, Nicky squeaked softly in excitement like a shy little girl. "Az, save me!" He giggled as she wrapped her arms around his quivering body. He shook, partially in excitement and partially in fear. Az just smiled and stayed silent, basking in the festive glow as if she thought the procession was held for her, like the honoree at a party. Reila crossed her arms and sneered, trying to escape from the atmosphere around her, threatening to swallow her. Maybe it was the cold, snowy darkness, being alone in a small, weird alpine village and barely able to speak the local language, the cheers and screams of the crowd, but those costumes seemed so real. She shivered, clutching her legs together to suppress the dull urge to pee. She could easily believe those drunken morons in furry horned suits were real monsters as they howled, clanged their chains, chased little children and pretty young girls who screeched and giggled. Parents laughed and shoved their small children into the monsters' path; the children screamed and darted away from outstretched claws. Helter-skelter chaos with St. Nick as a calm center point. The weirdest looking St. Nick she'd ever seen. He looked like some kind of priest. Aside from the flowing white beard, he had nothing in common with his fat, red-suited American counter part. As the bizarre procession drew closer, the people surrounding her bursting with barely held anticipation. Styrofoam cups were raised in a raucous toast, their gutteral foreign words buzzing in her ears. The Bishop of Myra held her full attention as he paused in his serene stroll amid the dancing and hooting horned monsters. Reila stared as he approached a woman. Her heart thumped oddly when she realized it was her mother. St. Nick extended a hand full of candy to Sonja, who warily stepped back and stared at his bearded face. After a moment she smiled and warmly accepted the candy. Reila scowled, squinting into the darkness, suspicion curling in her stomach. There had been no mention of Hans on this parade night, and Sonja had been mooning over him like a love sick schoolgirl. St. Nick leaned in close, saying something that made Sonja throw her head back in her flirty horsey laugh. Like she did every time Hans was around. "That bastard." Reila growled, anger burning through her veins, heating her up from the inside like an inferno ready to burst. She was too incensed to feel the bite of the cold. That bastard was dressed up as Saint Nick and shamelessly flirting with her moronic mother. She knew it was him, down to the core of her being. She wanted to storm over there and rip his fake beard off and ram it down his throat. The last thing she needed was her mother to get involved with another dick-of-the-month, especially one that went around saying she reeked of pee and insisted she needed diapers.

Gertrude went to the pantry door and opened it. She held the lantern up, smiling sadly. She almost felt like a child playing hide and seek. Magda was as skittish as a newborn calf- so different from the bold, chubby girl who never hesitated to sneak onto the farm to play with Gertrude and Heidi. Such a huge change helped convince Gertrude that Magda was telling the truth about the horrors she’d witnessed. The pantry door squeaked softly on its hinges. At first Gertrude didn’t see Magda hiding amongst the piles and heaps of junk. She certainly smelled her; the girl reeked of stale urine. She wondered how Magda hid so well in the dark. Maybe she’d had a lot of practice. “It’s just me.” Magda’s head popped up from behind the remains of an old, broken vacuum cleaner and a stack of old pots and cracked mixing bowls with a chipped tureen balanced on top. “I heard footsteps upstairs. Doors. So I hid.” Gertrude smiled. “That was me. I tried to be quiet.” She picked up an old, chipped wash basin and pitcher that was from her great grandparents’ time. “I got some soap and clean clothes. I thought you might like to wash up.” Magda actually smiled at that. It was a faint smile, but it gave Gertrude hope. For that brief moment, Gertrude glimpsed her old friend. Magda followed Gertrude to the sink. Gertrude filled up the porcelain basin with warm water, put a towel on the floor for Magda to stand on so water wouldn’t splash everywhere, then handed Magda the bar of soap and a washcloth. “Just toss your dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll take care of them. While you’re cleaning up, I’ll fix you some leftover stew.” Magda just nodded, but her eyes lit up at the sight of the soap. Gertrude turned her back to give Magda some privacy. She dug through the icebox for the leftovers. Magda’s soft giggle filled the quiet kitchen. “Thank you, but don’t worry about it. In the ghetto, I had to shower with other women to save on water. I’m used to it. An old friend seeing me naked is better than a stranger.” Did that mean Magda trusted her now? Gertrude wasn’t sure what to make of that. “There’s no meat in the stew, but my Tante Johanna’s real good at canning veggies, so they taste like they’re fresh picked.” Behind her, she heard the rustle of clothing as Magda undressed. The wet plop of a saturated diaper hitting the hard floor filled the silent night, followed by the splash of the water basin. She heard Magda’s little sigh of pleasure as she scrubbed down in the warm kitchen. “I’m sorry it’s not a real shower. It’s just- the bathroom’s upstairs and everyone’ll hear the water running.” “This is fine.” Magda waved off her apology. Gertrude still kept her back to Magda as she pulled out a pot and heated up the leftover stew on top of the wood stove. She also warmed up a glass of milk. While she was waiting for the stew to heat, she fished an old tin from the back of a cupboard and filled it with Magda’s favorite Christmas cookies. Some stollen, pfeffernusse, and allerlei cookies. She almost slipped in some swastika shaped ones but caught herself just in time. Packing a tin of Christmas cookies for her friend flashed her back to childhood. As a Jew, Magda didn’t celebrate Christmas. But Gertrude had always snuck her a gift of yummy cookies. And on Hanukkah, Magda snuck her a tin of sufganiyot- fluffy, jelly stuffed donuts deep fried and dusted in powdered sugar. Gertrude slipped the tin into the knapsack, along with some home-canned vegetables grown in the garden. She gave what she could spare without arousing suspicion in the rest of the family for missing goods. “It’s not much. I wish I could do more. But here’s clean clothes and some food. A few Marks I’d saved up. I was gonna give them to Heidi...and Heidi’s...underwear in here. Y’know. Just in case.” She hedged around saying diapers. Magda might be okay with talking about them out loud, but Gertrude wasn’t. “It’s more than I could ask for. I don’t have much further to go. I-” Magda abruptly cut herself off. She headed into dangerous territory; the multitude of things left unsaid between them. How had Magda gotten here? Gertrude had figured out that much- she ran away, obviously. Escaped from a train headed to a Nazi camp. Buchenwald? Maybe she’d have met Josef there. With his rifle. Did Josef shoot Jews? Would he shoot Magda? Gertrude shuddered, cold all over from those thoughts.

?

That was the last Cameron saw of Nanny Isabella. He almost missed her. He was afraid of making her angry, but at least she had been there in the nursery with him. Just like Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper kept watch over him all day at school. The majority of his life had been spent under the supervision of an adult in charge of everything from what he wore to what he ate. Now, on afternoons, he was on his own. Left all by himself in his nursery until the evening shift nanny arrived. The agency hadn't found any caretakers to fill the empty afternoon slot. Tyrese the cook sent the maids to pop in and check on him every so often, but they didn't have much experience caring for a regression patient. Being on his own scared him. Terrified him more than making Nanny Isabella angry. He should have been thrilled with the freedom. Instead, he found himself craving the safety and comfort of a caregiver. He frowned when a big glob of drool from his paci dribbled onto the picture he was coloring. He spat his binky out; it dangled from a yellow pacifier clip attached to his onesie collar. He lifted a corner of his bib to wipe his mouth. He was on his own, and he was trying to be a big boy. A good boy. That was the part that scared him. He liked doing what he wanted, when when he wanted. But looking after himself? He was doing his best not to screw it up. Not to bother the maids or make them angry. He desperately wanted to be a good boy all on his own- maybe then, Grandma Beatrice would be proud of him. His heart sped up with that thought. It's why he stuck with quiet activities like coloring. He never asked the maids for anything. Like a bottle or sippy cup of juice. He licked his lips. Juice sounded so yummy right now. Or milk. And a clean diaper. The lumpy mess in his seat was cool and started to itch hours ago. The maids didn't check his diaper, and he didn't say anything. He wasn't going to bother anyone; he was determined to be a good boy. Maybe then Grandma wouldn't send him away when Daddy came home. IF Daddy came home.Cameron cringed at the thought, at the memories just thinking of Daddy conjured up. He didn't want to be under the same roof as the man who'd literally burned him. He didn't want to be sent away, either. What would Grandma do to him? Back to the regression hospital? What if they wouldn't take him? He knew she'd just shop around until she found some place that wanted her money enough to take him. He dropped his fat orange toddler crayon. The flat side kept it from rolling away on the carpet. He feared being sent away would mean starting all over again. Being completely regressed again. Not just "failed to mainstream" but right back to square one. He didn't know which was worse- facing his father or a trip back to complete babyhood. Even if that was unethical, probably illegal and most doctors would not do it, Beatrice always, eventually, found someone greedy enough to do what she wanted. So, what was she going to do? It all depended on whether or not Daddy came home. The only one who could tell him for sure was grandma. How could he find out> He absentmindedly rubbed the coloring book, smearing crayon wax on his fingers; his mind deep in thought. He never even felt his soggy, messy diaper grow warm as he peed himself. His diaper was near leaking; he needed a change. He could ask Grandma. That was obvious. And not going to work for many reasons. He doubted he could get the words out of his mouth. Even if he was brave and managed not to melt into a pile of quivering jelly, she'd just brush him off as she always did. She paid more attention to her mail than she did her own grandson-A letter! He could write her a letter! Cameron smiled. Maybe he could ask Tyrese or one of the maids to slip the letter in with grandma's mail. That way she'd see it, read it, and pay attention before she even realized it was from her grandson. But what would he write on?His enthusiasm floundered as he glanced around the nursery. He had no pens, pencils, or markers. Nothing grown ups used to write. He glanced down at his coloring book and toddler crayons. They'd have to do. Besides the big baby coloring book was a blank drawing tablet. He tore off a blank sheet and picked up a purple crayon. Now, what to write? He had to sound like a big boy. Show her he could be one. Hi? No, too juvenile. Hello? That was better, more grown up. He carefully, neatly printed it out. His scrawl was still childish; the big fat crayon made it hard to write. Now, how should he phrase it so Grandma didn't get mad?Cameron felt the urge to suck his paci. He picked it up but froze when the nipple bumped his lip. No, he was trying to be a big boy. He dropped his paci and sucked his lower lip instead. He had to get in grandma's good graces. Maybe if he sounded like he was happy about Daddy coming home? That was a lie, though. Lying was bad. Wasn't it?Ms. Sweeney always said it was, but she lied to Mrs. Vesper about having a crush on the janitor. Lili lied. A lot. She lied so well people believed it was the truth. She lied to stay out of trouble. If Grandma Beatrice knew how Cameron truthfully felt about Daddy coming home, he knew she would send him away for sure. What should he do?HIs thumb found its way into his mouth as he stared down at the paper with the purple "Hello" on it. Indecision tore at him. Good boys did not lie, even if they got in trouble for telling the truth. Like George Washington and the cherry tree; Mrs. Vesper read them that story today at naptime. Yet, if lying was so bad, why did everyone do it? He wished Lili was here. He whimpered softly around his thumb. Lili would tell him he was being stupid. She'd tell him to lie like it was the truth. He wasn't hurting anyone. And he wasn't flat out lying; he was just bending the truth a bit. With a little, encouraging nod to himself, Cameron began to write. He just knew this was going to work. “Mrs. Beatrice, ma’am, this isn’t working. You need to do something. Call another agency if this can’t find an afternoon nanny. Cameron can’t be left alone. Me and the rest of the staff are busy doing our jobs. The maids don’t know what to do with him.” “Nonsense, Tyrese. It’s just like taking care of an overgrown baby.” Beatrice sipped at her after dinner coffee. Cameron sat down at the other end of the dining room table, safely buckled into his highchair as he quietly nursed his bottle of chocolate milk and listened in. “No, it’s not.” Tyrese folded his big, muscular arms as he towered over his aged employer. “There’s an entire universe of differences. Cameron’s not an actual baby, and he needs regression specialist nannies, not any old nanny off the street. That reminds me; Jenny the night nanny complained about Cameron having diaper rash. The school sent home a letter about it, too. You need to do something about the afternoons, ma’am.” “Oh, alright. I’ll give the agency a call tomorrow. Maybe they’ll have a nanny available.” Beatrice sighed, annoyed her relaxing coffee break was interrupted. “They haven’t had a nanny in two weeks. Ma’am. You need to try something else. His teachers were worried when he showed up to school with all those bruises on his face. Now he’s got diaper rash. You can’t keep rescheduling that meeting with them.” Beatrice groaned, slamming her delicate, gilded cup down so hard coffee sloshed over the rim and onto the fine linen tablecloth. “Enough! I’ll call Jill and take her up on that babysitting offer. Just leave me to finish my coffee in peace!” Her old-lady voice shrieked high and shrill; both Tyrese and Cameron winced. “Yes, ma’am.” Tyrese gave her a polite bow then went back to the kitchen. “Ma’am, here’s the day’s mail from your desk, as you requested.” A maid who’d been waiting in the wings for Tyrese to finish approached. She laid the mail on the table in front of Beatrice. After a nod from her employer, she curtseyed and backed away. From the other end of the table, Cameron stiffened at the sight of the milk. Milk dribbled down his chin and onto his bib while he stared intently at his grandma. This was it, what he’d been waiting for. “I really don’t want that... girl... loose in my house.” Beatrice muttered to herself as she dug through the huge mail pile. She paused over the word “girl” as if she wanted to say something much more nasty but was too well bred to actually say it. “Jill always said she was a savage beast. Now I’m supposed to trust her in my house? Ridiculous. All this nonsense over a few bruises and a rash. Babies get rashes all the time, it’s not the end of the world. They fall down, too. Accidents happen.” She shook her head, setting aside and sorting the envelopes. “That Indian woman with Jack at the country club had some good points. It’s been many years, I suppose, since that girl’s been back. Maybe Jack truly did manage to tame the beast. That’s not what I’ve heard from others who’ve dealt with her….” Beatrice sighed. “I’m tired of Tyrese’s constant nagging. I suppose giving her a second chance isn’t too much to ask for, if it’ll quiet Tyrese. I’ll tell Jill I accept the babysitting offer that Indian woman mentioned.” Cameron’s eyes grew even wider as his chest swelled up with hope like a balloon. He listened as hard as he watched. Was it true? Could it really be? It sounded like grandma was talking about Lili. Lili, coming to babysit him. She’d kept her promise after all. He grinned behind the rubber nipple, chocolate milk dribbling over his face and onto his bib. His heart filled with happiness; he didn’t pay any attention to the milk. He made sure to be a very good boy by staying still and quiet, just watching passively despite the joy bubbling up inside. It itched to burst free in a loud, exuberant cheer. He was getting Lili back! “What’s this?” Beatrice frowned at the folded up paper tucked amongst all her envelopes. Cameron’s letter. His breath caught in his throat and he trembled in anticipation, adrenaline fusing with joy in his veins. She opened up the paper, expression turning sour as she read. She lifted her head, noticing her grandson for the first time all evening. At the look in her eyes, the balloon in his chest popped and shrivelled. Before she even spoke, Cameron knew he’d been bad. She was angry with him. He should’ve said nothing and just floundered uncertainly. If an adult wanted him to know something, they’d tell him. He was so, so stupid. Stupid, dumb baby. He deserved to be fully regressed again. He wasn’t ready to be a big boy. He lowered his head, breaking eye contact, but he could still feel her disgusted stare bearing into him. “No, Cameron. Daddy’s not coming home yet. Another lawyer has let me down. He never should’ve gone away in the first place. But because of you-” Beatrice bit off her bitter words abruptly and stood up suddenly. “I can’t even finish my coffee now. Thank you for ruining my evening.” She stormed off, slamming the door behind her. Cameron cringed. Each word stabbed into him. He whimpered, cowering at her wrath. “S-sowwy.” He blubbered softly as tears fell down his cheeks, onto his damp, messy bib and highchair tray. His bottle clattered, half drunk, onto the plastic tray and his damp diaper crinkled. He cringed, barely able to move in the confining safety straps of the highchair. His soft sobs filled the vast, empty room. Cameron squirmed, the straps of his car seat squishing the soggy bulk of his diaper against him. Heavy, medicated cream dulled the sting of his diaper rash. He sucked on his binky and stared down at the blue bib with embroidered red lady bugs on it. Technically he did not need it, but car seats were often part of the regression therapy program; they were an easy way to confine and protect a regressed patient. His car seat was still in the back of his grandmother’s Bentley. He was so used to riding in it he never thought of sitting in a regular seat, like a big boy. The five point harness held him firm and secure, restricting his movements and giving him a feeling of safety and security. As part of his therapy, he'd been trained to love his car seat as much as he loved all his other baby paraphernalia. He even still had his rattles from his time in the hospital when he was fully regressed, just learning to crawl. He much preferred being a big toddler. He had some freedoms yet still felt the security of being watched. Though his nannies often screwed up when they were new to the case. It was similar to home health care. The nanny agency specializing in regression therapy sent nannies who were certified regression therapy assistants. There was a steady, revolving stream of nannies, as many went on to complete their regression therapist degree and move on to better paying jobs. “Tch. Where is she?” At the sound of his grandmother’s voice, he peeked up and strained against the harness so he could look past the car seat's padding to his grandmother. Beatrice sat besides him in the backseat in etiquette-dictated proper place. Her chauffeur was up front driving. Her legs were crossed, her low kitten heel twitching as she flicked her foot, radiating annoyance with arms crossed and lips pressed in a thin line. "Gwanma? I sowwy." He said softly around the rubber nipple of his binky in his mouth. Liliana was late. He could still barely believe she was coming; a small part of him doubted it, dared not to hope in case it wasn’t true. Beatrice didn’t answer. She did not feel comfortable leaving her 18 year old grandson alone, and Tyrese had made it perfectly clear he and the other staff were too busy with their duties to take care of Cameron. If something happened to him and word got out it would cause too much of a scandal. So she had to take him with her to a charity luncheon for some orphanage or another and wait for Jill’s granddaughter. She looked again at her watch and clucked her tongue, making no attempt to hide her displeasure. When she did not even so much as turn her head or acknowledge him, Cameron lowered his head and relaxed into his car seat with a soft sigh of surrender. Grandma was still mad at him about the debacle at dinner. His legs pressed to the padded sides of the carseat, forced apart by his huge diaper bulge. His car seat was deep with soft, thick, spongy cushions. He sighed as the silence stretched out. He looked out the window, watching the shiny, expensive and fancy cars filling the parking lot. A group of chauffeurs gathered in a corner, talking as they smoked. Soon holiday trimmings would be going up- he loved seeing the festive decorations. Mapleton was a small town, and the section frequented and populate by the creme dela creme of Mapleton society was kept clean by an army of street sweepers. He wished he could spend the holidays with his grandma. Maybe then she wouldn’t resent him so much. He knew it was hard on her, having a screw up like him for a grandson while her own son was locked away in prison. She spent Thanksgiving and Christmas at the soup kitchen in the less desireable part of town. She donated heavily and of course she did not actually serve; she was just there to offer her unsolicited supervision. Unless a photographer or reporter from the newspaper were there. Sacrificing her holidays gave her bragging rights and helped her public image. That left Cameron alone in his room with Christmas TV specials and a nanny on double holiday overtime. He peeked at her again. "I be good. Pwomise." He lisped softer than before, trying again. Beatrice’s lip twitched in annoyance and he dropped his head. He did not know what else to do to make things better. He rubbed the red thread of the ladybugs on his bib with one finger. Today, he was dressed as much of a baby as he could be, even more infantile and girly than usual. Beatrice had bribed a maid with a bonus behind Tyrese’s back to dress Cameron, not trusting him to dress himself. He'd tried to protest but that only angered his grandmother further. So he wore a yellow onesie with lacy peter pan collar, red crotch snaps and big, bright red ladybugs on the chest. Over top of that was a hand knitted, mint green sweater with a cartoonish white bunny on the front; a handmade gift from one of Beatrice’s friends for his birthday. He had on baby blue cargo pants with snaps in the crotch, making his diaper bulge very noticeable as always. The icing on the cake was the frilly unisex infant’s bonnet tied to his head. It was white and dripped lace, which the maid had thought looked adorable even though Cameron had not worn it since he came home from the regression hospital. It made him feel like an infant, and he hated the bonnet. He thought it was too girly with all that lace. But he kept his opinion to himself; he didn’t want to anger or upset anyone. This time his binky clip was Winnie the pooh and his binky was white and mint with a pink strap. The bonnet’s ribbons were wide and made a huge bow under his chin that itched and distracted him. It was almost itchier than his red, rash covered diaper area. He was almost tempted to cry and act like an infant. That may get him the attention of his grandmother but it would only upset her further. Another worry was how other people would react. Cameron did not get out much. None of the regression therapy students did. The mothers were a close knit group and would go Mama Bear on anyone who said anything about their oversized babies. Especially after what happened to Cameron from Prissy’s bullying. They were quick to stamp out any little spark. The only times he got out were when one of his classmates was having a birthday party. Then, they were all dressed as big babies and their mothers rented out the entire venue. There was still too much public controversy on regression therapy to safely go out. Those paraphilic infantilism people who tried to go public with their fetish often got confused by the uneducated public with regression therapy patients and just made matters worse. He was not used to being out in public. The closest he’d come was when the school attempted to mainstream him. He’d gotten to wear big boy clothes then and mingle with his normal peers. With Prissy. He shivered at the memory. Where was Lili? What would she think of him, dressed like this? He wished he had his big boy clothes on. He still missed her. He sighed, fidgeting restlessly, the noisy crinkle of his diaper filling up the quiet car. . She had just crashed into his life like a shooting star. And now she was gone and not coming back. He sucked hard on his binky. Maybe she was disgusted with him after all? Maybe she thought of it all as a joke? Just having a lark with the dumb, over grown babies. But she had seemed so sincere. He had believed her; she was nothing like the bullies had been. Or he was just a diapered fool desperate for affection. For a friend. His feelings for Lili were confusing; he could not define them for certain. All he knew was he liked her. Oh, how he liked her. Surely she could not have feelings for a burned boy who peed and pooped himself, drank formula from bottles and spit up if he was not burped. He whimpered softly. Surely, she saw him as nothing more than a joke. The roar of an engine filled the quiet as a car raced into the parking lot well over the speed limit. He peered through his window, pushing himself up and grunting as he fought the unyielding restraints. Tires screeched as the car came to a halt and the driver got out. His eyes widened and terror filled him. Priscilla. It was Priscilla. Impossible. It couldn’t be. But it was. He fell back into the soft padding, heart pounding as he panted. His long time tormentor was his new babysitter. He whimpered. “Finally.” Beatrice muttered as she got out of the car without waiting for her chauffeur to open the door. “Young lady, where have you-P-Priscilla?” Ire died on her tongue, replaced by startled confusion. “Not quite. I fill this out better, yeah?” That voice. He knew it so well. Not Prissy, not her at all. Liliana. He gasped, drawing a deep breath and straining forward to see. Beatrice had come around the car and now stood in front of his window, blocking his view. He whined. She looked like Priscilla, all preppy and pink instead of punk and purple. But she sounded like Lili. “Who…?” The question died on Beatrice’s tongue as she continued to stare in confusion. “Aaw, don’t like my new look? I think I pull it off better than my cousin.” “Liliana?” Beatrice blinked. Cameron fumbled with the red release button by his crotch, but it would not give. It was designed so the occupant couldn’t release it. Just another safety feature. He grunted, straining forward once more. The nylon safety belts bit into him but he still fought against them, desperate to see her. He was able to peek at her just past Beatrice’s shoulder. "Yes, it’s moi. And how is dear, darling Cameron baby?" Lilis voice was pleasant as a summer’s day. “He’s in the car. Waiting.” Beatrice stared at her, as if meeting a distasteful stranger. This was the hellspawn her friend had complained about. Repeatedly. For years. A bull headed wild child, too much like Jack for Jill to see any good in her. Looking at the girl, she could see it, too. Jack’s eyes, the way he stood, the unpredictable air about him, all mirrored here in the form of an 18 year old girl. She was not of their genteel world. The girl looked like a well bred lady, like a twin of Priscilla, except for those horrible spikes below her lip. “Yeah, sorry about that. Car wouldn’t start. It hasn’t been driven in a while.” Lili shrugged, not sounding sorry at all. “Very sorry. Well, I’m not that late. Don’t want you to miss your important social obligation.” Beatrice frowned. Her lipstick feathered; the same shade Jill wore. She looked to the doors of the country club hosting the charity luncheon. “Your being late has made me late.” “Yes, and I do most sincerely and humbly apologize. As I explained, it was circumstances beyond my control. But I’m here now and arguing with me is just making you more late, yeah?” Beatrice’s lips puckered like she’d sucked on a lemon. She cast another glance to the doors, obviously wanting to go, but also wanting to give the delinquent a piece of her mind. “Yes. Well….Just don’t let it happen again.” “Next time I’ll schedule my car troubles at a more convenient time.” Lili’s voice was sugary sweet, her sarcasm going right over Beatrice’s head. She tilted her head to the side, giving her grandmother's friend a small smile, expression saying she knew Beatrice did not get her point at all. Beatrice scowled. She was no fan of this weird-looking girl. She looked back to the carseat and her diapered grandson in his bonnet. She really wanted to immerse herself in the luncheon;the ladies were inside, no doubt gossiping about her. How shameful it would be to be late, but being seen with her grandson in public was more embarrassing. Cameron and his diapers best belong at home in the nursery with someone looking after him and keeping him out of her hair. She was desperate enough she was willing to give this girl a chance to babysit him. As long as she kept him quiet. With Cameron, she often felt over her head. She couldn’t look at him without remembering her own precious baby boy, shackled in cuffs and taken away by two uniformed officers. Her own children had been mostly raised by nannies, as had Jill's. All their contemporaries had. It was just the way their world worked. Neither she nor Jill had ever changed a diaper. That was the nanny's job. This girl was Priscilla’s cousin. Blood relative of the girl who’d bullied Cameron. Jill had begged Beatrice not to bear a grudge- Prissy was young and of course she was sorry and she was just being a kid. Beatrice had replied of course she wasn’t angry, and had agreed it was best for all for Cameron to be put back into regression classes and the whole incident was swept under the rug and never brought up again. No more mainstreaming for him. A few complaints from both Beatrice and Jill to the school board and superintendent shut Ms. Sweeney’s protests right up. But inside, in quiet moments, she wondered if she had done the right thing, the best thing for Cameron. She knew the horror story of the poor puppy and that Liliana was the one who was rumored to have kicked it. That was years ago and maybe Liliana changed- then again, Jack always maintained it was Priscilla who hurt the puppy, and given what Prissy had done to her grandbaby....but Jill said....Beatrice just did not know what to think, and did not know what to think of the girl standing in front of her looking very much like Priscilla. Lili ducked past Beatrice while the older, sophisticated lady chewed her lip, dithering in indecision. "Hey Cam-Cam!" She grinned, tapping on the window. Cameron blushed, pushing back in his carseat. It really was Lili. She looked so weird...so...normal it was almost scary. So much like Prissy, except for her snakebite piercings. He stared at them, smiling behind his paci. He was excited and happy to see her, but shy, too. He did not want Lili to see him with his bonnet. His diaper crinkled loudly and the harness held him trapped. His heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice and he froze. He wanted to go to her…but surely she would laugh at his bonnet... "Lili?" He asked softly, voice barely audible. "Yupp, that's me. I'm right here." She tapped the glass. Those pink lips smiling, not laughing. She turned and looked at Beatrice who still hadn’t made up her mind. “Well. Alright, then. I’m off. But I won’t tolerate any more shenanigans.” Beatrice sniffed disdainfully and stalked off. The other ladies would not see her big baby of a grandson waddling around in his diapers, bonnets and bibs, even though regression therapy was almost perfectly acceptable. At least in her social circle. She had made it so. Some of the ladies occasionally asked after Cameron. Sure, they sounded genuine, but Beatrice thought they did it just to remind her of her shame. A little social dig. Regression therapy had really gained in momentum after several very popular daytime talk show hosts had run specials on it, and popular magazines ran feature articles on it. A few A list celebrities had put their problem children in regression therapy and wrote books about it. Psychologists had weighed in and now the masses had eaten it up. It was controversial and often a hot topic of debate, but it was still a mainstream topic. Beatrice admitted it had worked wonders with Cameron, really helped him overcome his emotional traumas. As messed up as the boy still was, he’d come along way from how he’d been. But..she was still embarrassed by the whole sordid ordeal and wished to keep it firmly where it belonged- at home. Out of sight, out of mind. Outside with her friends and fellow socialites, she could be normal. She noticed Jill had done the same thing with Priscilla since her injury and diagnosis. Jill had gradually talked less and less about Prissy, preferring her grandchild not be mentioned at all, pretending to be normal in society. “Bye-bye! I’ll take good care of your grandbaby!” Lili waved gaily, shouting and causing the nearby chauffeurs to glance at Beatrice, who hunched her shoulders and scuttled inside, shamefaced. Pleased with herself, Lili opened the car door and crawled inside. Cameron blushed, ducking his head. "Aww, Cameron. You hiding from me, yeah?" She smiled, thinking Cameron was just being shy. She was right. She squatted down in front of his car seat, peering up into his bonnet covered face. " A bonnet?" She grinned then choked to hide her surprised laughter. "Aww, baby, you look adorable." She reached up, tugging on the lacey frills framing his face gently. Cameron whined softly behind his binky and blushed. "Lili.” "Well, you do. It is the gospel truth." Her grin was infectious and the burned boy found himself smiling back at her. She reached up from her squatting position and rubbed his pink cheeks. Cameron squeaked and squirmed, blushing, embarrassed but oh so happy. "Babies look best when they're smiling." She fluffed the big bow under his chin, playing with the ribbon and Cameron scrunched his nose up. He really hated bonnets. The front of his diaper grew warm with a long stream of pee but he did not notice, too focused on Lili. “Hey. Baby, what happened?” Lili suddenly frowned and peered closer at Cameron’s pretty face. She gingerly brushed the sallow, nearly healed, bruised skin around his eye, where the ball had hit him. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him suck on his paci. The shield shifted, revealing the faded bruises around his lips. Cameron stiffened. He didn’t want Lili to know how bad he’d been. She thought he was good and sweet. Would she leave him if she learned the awful truth of how bad he really was? He whimpered softly at the thought. “Cameron? Tell me. Please.” Lili’s worry choked him. Finally, here she was, all his. The reunion he’d been waiting for, and he was ruining it. He swallowed and forced a big, shaky smile. “Nuffin. Got boo-boos. Baww bownced.” “Yes, I see your boo-boos. How did you get the boo-boos?” She cooed, urging him to tell her. His reluctance made her suspicious. “Come on, baby. You can tell me. We’re friends, yeah?” He bit down on the rubber nipple in his mouth. He just wanted to be happy and enjoy the time he had together with her. Her presence was a balm, soothing the ache in his heart. He wasn’t going to let Nanny Isabelle take this from him. He spoke carefully. “Just pwayin. My baww-” He needed big boy words. “Just playing. My ball bounced.” He pantomimed smacking himself in the face. “Your ball bounced, and hit you in the face?” Her lips puckered with sour doubt. “Uh-huh.” His smile wobbled nervously and he looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “And your ball gave you a pacifier shaped bruise, too?” He just nodded his head, crumbling under the weight of her disbelieving stare. Lili watched as Cameron curled in on himself, pulling away from her. She was pushing too hard. Too aggressive, too callous. Too selfish. Her face stayed screwed up in doubt, but she winced on the inside. She was hurting this fragile, damaged boy with her selfishness. Just like Priscilla had. That realization was an icy slap in the face. Whatever had truly happened, he was not ready to tell her. Not yet. She could push, could break him and make him talk, but then the soft warmth that filled his eyes when he looked at her would grow dark and dim. She’d be cold and alone again. It was better to be patient and wait, work it out of him in time. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m sorry. Your boo-boos are all better, yeah? And it’s just me and you. All day!" Liliana injected forced cheer into her voice. Cameron bit down on his paci. Lili let go of that too fast. He knew he wasn’t a good liar, so he doubted she believed him. Well, the part about the ball was true...and whether she believed him or not, she was willing to ignore his boo-boos. His bruises. To not spoil their day together. All day with Lili. How he'd missed her...what took her so long? She had to have a good explanation. He just knew it. She had promised. She even pinky swore. “Okay.” He agreed softly, peeking up at her. Her gentle, concerned gaze caught his and he felt himself drowning. Just him and Lili today. He blushed, shaking a little in his excitement. “Good baby!” She cooed and pressed the red button between his legs, releasing the harness and lifting it up over his head. She took his soft, slender princess fingers in hers and he felt electricity jolt through him at the touch. Lili apparently felt the same; she looked into his wide, happy eyes and her gaze softened even more. She gently helped him up and he toddled his way out of the back of the Bentley. Cameron kept hold of Lili's hand like a good baby. He looked at the entrance, wishing he’d gotten to say goodbye to his grandma. He looked up at Lili, blushed some more and looked away. By the driver’s side door stood Beatrice’s chauffeur, who’d quietly witnessed the whole scene as if he was just another piece of furniture. "Tank yew.." He said very softly, stepping closer to Lili. The chauffeur smiled at him, glad to be appreciated and feeling bad for the diapered boy. With a grandmother like Beatrice, it was no wonder the boy needed therapy. At least the pierced freak show paid attention to the boy. Appearances certainly were not everything. "Miss, let me put the baby's carseat in your car?" He asked Liliana. She blinked, startled, as if just noticing the driver for the first time. "Oh, yeah. Sure. That's a good idea, yeah. I didn’t even think of it." The chauffeur smiled and started unstrapping Cameron's car seat from the car. The wind blew sharp with a early winter bite, causing everyone to shiver. Cameron giggled then ducked behind Lili, feeling like a naughty boy for finding it amusing. She turned, still holding his hand and gave his fingers a little squeeze. "Just you and me, baby boy. I got you all to myself." She grinned and he blushed. The heated look in her eyes seared him, overwhelmed him. His heart thumped and his tummy did a funny flip flop and he lowered his eyes, fidgeting, the loud crinkle from his padded behind giving away his every movement. Half of Cameron’s hand was covered in a fingerless armwarmer tucked into the sleeves of his mint sweater; the white cloth separated their palms but he could still feel the reassuring warmth from hers. Her fingers were calloused and he wondered what she did to get them that way. Her grip was strong and self assured, bold even as it cradled his own hand. He wanted to pull back the cloth, press his palm into hers...but he was afraid if he touched her, she would see...would know about his scars..... But Lili already knew, had seen him getting his poopy diaper changed. She had seen the horrid, angry scars covering him....he did not want her to see any more though. He wasn’t sure just how much she had seen. If she knew how bad the damage was. When she had seen his scars at school, he had just smiled and tried to reassure him. So her seeing the rest of his scars wouldn’t be so bad. Right? Still, he made no move to uncover the burned, scarred portion of his arms. Instead, he watched as the chauffeur transferred his carseat into Lili’s flashy Aston Martin. He stared at their reflection in the shiny blue paint, thinking what an odd couple they made. Lili looked like a freak show in that preppy getup, like she was wearing a costume. What happened to her? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to accidentally anger her. He chewed on his paci’s nipple, drool dripping down his chin and onto his ladybug bib. "What you thinking about, baby boy?" Lilis voice was low and husky, and she stood very close. She gave his fingers another squeeze, amazed by how soft they were. So girly. Through the thin, opaque fabric, she could feel the swirls and bumps of his scars; misshapen, melted skin. Cameron looked at her and shook his head. Her perfume washed over him, heady and intoxicating. He squirmed, diaper crinkling noisily. The faint, chilly breeze picked up again, riffling the lacey frills on his bonnet and making his bib flutter. "Pwetty- pr-pwetty caw." He whispered, struggling against years of conditioned toddler speak to talk like a normal boy. He had been able to, at one point when he'd been in regular classes. But once he'd been sent to the regression room, the old baby habits that had been programmed into him kicked back in full force, and he had been using baby speech automatically ever since then. Lili smiled, watching him struggle. "It was Prissy’s. Her taste in cars is much better than her taste in clothes.” When Cameron shivered in the cold, she tugged on the lacy frills of his bonnet. "Aww. Now that really is adorable!" Face red, he lifted up his huge bib to show her the bunny in his sweater. She cooed how cute it was and took a step closer to him. The huge bonnet ruffles blocked out his peripheral vision. He looked down at their feet. The tips of her heeled mauve boots touched the white leather of his Velcro baby shoes with Elmo on the sides. She was taller than him not by much-just a few inches. She was so close. Her free hand gently touched his chin, guiding his face up. Cameron swallowed. Her nose touched his, her face so close. His diaper grew warm as he peed yet again. Was she going to do? A wave of heat and dizziness rushed over him and his heart sped up. He thought he might faint. Lili tapped the paci between his lips. "Such a pretty baby boy". Relief-from what, he didn’t know- flooded through him and trickled in a warm wave into his diaper, exiting his bladder. He felt weak in the knees. And strangely disappointed. "All done. Good to go." The chauffeur stood up and walked back to Beatrice’s car. Lili raised a hand in casual thanks and farewell. "Thanks, man. Appreciate it." "Just take good care of that baby." "Plan on it." Lili grinned. Cameron blushed and waved bye-bye to the driver. He smiled and waved back, then walked over to join the other chauffeurs. "Aight. Now it's just us, yeah? So, let’s decide what to do today. But first let’s get you out of the cold-" Lili stopped, suddenly looking around. "Wait. Baby. Where the hell’s your diaper bag?" She just realized upon seeing the diaper bulge straining against Cameron’s pants. He was a baby. Babies used diapers. They needed diaper bags. Cameron timidly squeezed her fingers to get her attention. "Gwamma no take. No diapee bag." He lisped softly, afraid she would be angry and blame him. His diapers, his fault. "Sowwy." Lili watched his pretty, girly face crumple; how he seemed to shrink in on himself, as if expecting punishment. "Hey. Baby. Shh. It’s okay. We’ll just go to your house and get it.” She didn’t sound mad. He peeked at her warily and nodded, bonnet frills bouncing. Was it really that easy to take care of? Lili tapped his pacifier with her pink painted nail. "It’s ok baby. Now come on." She tugged on his hand and he toddled, crinkling noisily along behind her to the back seat. He was both relieved and disappointed to be in his car seat. He was a big boy and was able to sit up front- part of him wanted to, just to be close to Lili. But he had been mentally conditioned to be scared without his car seat, to feel safe and secure in it. To bawl like the big baby he was if he was not in it. He whimpered softly, wanting to be a big boy so maybe Lili would like him more, but craving the safety of his seat as well and hating himself for it. "Baby?" Lili saw the distress on his face and immediately bent down and tore open the poppers on his crotch, poking at his thick diaper, checking it like she had seen the teachers do at school and had been taught to do when helping Asha with her regressed grandnephew Rajesh. Cameron shook his head, forcing a shaky smile. He had to quit being such a baby so Lily would not get sick of him. Maybe that's why Grandma was so distant from him. He didn’t even realize they were out in a public parking lot and she was poking at his diapers. When he did, he blushed and whined softly in protest. But Lili was already done, snapping them closed and standing up. "You're wet. I think you're gonna leak soon. " He just nodded and caught her hand, boldly giving it a squeeze. She blinked in surprise then her grin grew. "Come on, baby." ******************** "Holy shit." Cameron peeked nervously up at Lili, but the stupid ruffles on his bonnet blocked out his view. He turned his head. Her eyes were wide and lips parted in shock. He still preferred her purple lips to the pink monstrosity they were now. At least she still had her snakebites. Again, he wondered what happened to her. Lili stared in flabbergasted awe at his nursery. Baby blue walls with trimmed with yellow duckies. White crib with Winnie the Pooh sheets, complete with matching mobile. Baby monitor. White changing table. White dressers with little ducky handles huge. Handmade toy box. Winnie pooh lamp. Huge, life size stuffed teddy bear in one corner. Playpen. Baby toys scattered about, from wooden blocks to rattles to a yellow Tonka dump truck and one ball left alone in a corner. She walked in, checking it out with Cameron crinkling nervously behind her. "Holy shit." she said again, picking up a rattle, turning to Cameron and shaking it at him. He blushed and said nothing, ducking his head. She put the rattle in his limp hand then dug through his closet, checking out his walk in closet the size of a small apartment. He toddled after her, tossing his rattle into his playpen. Add a normal desk and chair for homework and studying and a white bookshelf painted with Winnie the Pooh and lined with books-some baby books and others more suited for big kids. Baby clothes filled the closet. A few big boy clothes were crammed in the back. He had sleepers, infant sleep sacks, onesies galore. All of his normal pants had snap crotches. Cameron watched her; she seemed...delighted and fascinated...he sucked on his binky, shifting from foot to foot. "Omg. Seriously. This is fucking adorable." He squeaked at her cuss, glancing around, afraid someone would overhear. But no nanny was on duty today. Lili was the nanny. Just the two of them. He smiled and giggled, shocked and delighted by her vulgar mouth. He saw her holding up his little sailor suit. He paled and shook his head. He hated that one the most. Lili grinned. "Don't like it?" He shook his head, bonnet ruffles flapping. She put it back. "It’s too cold for you to wear it, anyway. But when it gets warmer..." She trailed off suggestively. Cameron's heart sped up. That meant she planned on still being here with him...that thought gave his heart wings. He just hoped she forgot all about the sailor suit with the ducky on the butt. But somehow he didn’t think she would. She checked out his strollers and found several diaper bags. None of them packed. "Gwamma fowget" he lisped. "Me, too." "No worries. It’s rather cold out and I heard you got sick easily. So well just hang here for the day. That okay?" He nodded, ruffles flopping. He whined and tugged in them. "Off? Peese?" Lili laughed, delighted with how cute he was and that he was finally relaxing more around her. She untied the wide ribbon and plucked the bonnet off his head. Cameron breathed in a sigh of relief and took off his bunny sweater as well, leaving him in just a long sleeve onesie tucked into his pants. He toed off his shoes. "Getting comfy, yeah?" He blushed and nodded. Now he wanted sweatpants on, but he did not want her to see his scars so kept his pants on. She unlaced her boots and slipped them off. "I'll admit, that does feel better." She poked around his closet some more. "I swear, you've got way more clothes than even Prissy has." Most of his clothes were regression wear. Big baby clothes. Satisfied with his closet, Lili went over to his dresser and rummaged.through the drawers. Cameron blushed, wondering if she always helped herself or felt comfortable since she was in charge of him and had to know about these kinds of things or some combo of the two. He knew she was not a reserved person by any means. "Damn, my baby boy goes through a lot of bibs. Two drawers full!" Booties, mittens from his days as a hospitalized, regressed infant. Bonnets. He shuddered at that drawer and Lili smiled. Burp cloths. Baby socks, some with lace on them. And finally- "What's this?" Lili held up a large square of padded cloth. Cameron blushed bright red and mumbled. "Cwoth diapees." He waddled over to her and pointed out the next drawer, full of plastic panties plastered with baby prints or ruffles. "I'm gonna have to learn how to put these on you." She waved the cloth, bunched it back up then poked at his plastic panty collection, which was vast, indeed. It paled in comparison to the disposable diaper stash in the closet, though. Bags upon bags upon bags of thick diapers filled the closet. Different brands and baby prints. Some in colors, some white. All with the same horrid thickness and loud plastic backing. All huge on Cameron’s tiny, slender frame. "Damn. You never have to worry about running out of diapers, yeah?" Lili whistled when she saw the diapering supplies packed under the changing table. Diapers galore. Rash cream. Vaseline. Suppositories for when he was constipated. Several tubes of diaper cream. Tubs of baby wipes. And more diapers still. Bottles and bottles of baby powder, from corn starch to unscented to a wide variety of scents. She poked at the cushioned, plastic mat on top of the changing table, where Cameron would lay when a nanny changed his diaper. She fingered the security strap. Cameron let her nose through his room. He didn’t have the guts to stop her and didn’t want to. She was just getting to know him and his diaper world and he hoped she would be a part of it She looked at Cameron over her shoulder; he just stood there watching her. "You've gotten quite chatty, baby boy." She teased with a wink, trying to help be comfortable around her. He blushed and squirmed, wondering if he had annoyed her. "Sowwy?" he apologized softly. She stepped closer to him and gently touched one pink cheek, cupping it with her palm. He could feel her callouses and the metal from the rings on her fingers. It felt so warm, and she smelled so good, just like she had weeks ago in class. So long ago. Not one word. Such an agonizing amount of time, and look at how she changed! It kept needling him no matter how much he tried to push it aside. He still believed she had a good excuse. He wasn’t going to ask, he trusted her....but he would really like to hear it. He waddled backward, losing his balance and falling in his diapered bottom. The soggy padding squished under him and more urine leaked into the damp diaper. He whimpered in surprise, not pain and startled tears welled in his eyes. Before he could start crying like a scared toddler, Lili knelt next to him and gathered him into her lap. Her scent wafted over him. "Shh. Baby boy, its okay." She cooed.his head nestled against her plump breasts and he squirmed, managing to scoot away. "Liwi wate. " He held up his slim fingers. "I wait and wait. No Lili." He spat his binky out. His lower lip trembled. "Baby, I'm sorry. I would have been here the next day if I could. Some….some stuff came up…” She trailed off, not wanting to tell him what she’d done to Prissy. She didn’t want him to know about that dark side of her, that part that got out of control. That dark monster in her heart that scared her. She couldn’t bear it if Cameron looked at her the way Prissy had. Like she was a monster. “And I couldn’t get around your grandma.The old bird is tougher than she looks. So I had to wait. I tried. I really did. I’d never hurt you on purpose." Lili puffed her cheeks out then exhaled noisily. She slumped, then took both of Cameron’s soft hands in hers. “Shit kinda hit the fan.” She gestured to her outfit. “I was a little stupid, got carried away...and...well...Asha.” She sighed, not really explaining. She slumped forward to rest her forehead on Cameron’s hands. “Your grandma kept turning me away. Asha intervened. I don’t know what she did.” She sounded as if that galled her. “But here I am, and these god-awful clothes are my punishment for...for something stupid I did. It’s nothing important.” She choked on nervous laughter, imploring Cameron to believe her. Cameron stared into her eyes and decided he believed her. Her voice was too sincere and full of pain. Who would say they missed a big baby if they did not? Slowly, he nodded, showing he believed her. He’d never seen this side of her. She looked pained, agitated. He heard the slight creep of fear into her voice at the mention of Asha. He blinked in surprise, sucking on his paci. He never thought fearless Lili could be afraid of anyone. Or intimidated. He leaned forward and laid his head on top of hers. She grinned, as if his touch magically restored his good spirits. Her head popped up. "I really am sorry." She touched her forehead to his, and Cameron blushed, but he did not drop his gaze. "I’ll make it up to you. Promise." The spikes twitched in her mouth as her tongue played with them. She really did feel guilty, but she had been preoccupied with Prissy. The biggest obstacle had been getting around the old biddy. Cameron was locked up tight like a fairytale princess high up in the tower, and Lili had felt like a prince slaying a two-headed dragon. Only Asha had given her access to the delicate diapered boy. Cameron watched the emotions flit across her face. To him, she seemed sincere. Then again, he was not always the best judge of that. He chewed his lower lip, staring at the metal spikes piercing her flesh. He wondered how much that hurt and if that felt funny. "....I-I bewieve yew..." He mumbled softly, her gaze holding him captive. Her pink lips stretched in a cheshire cat smile. "Good enough for me. I'll take it. Now, about that squishy diaper of yours…” Cameron’s eyes widened and his heart leapt into his throat. No, no no no no. He could NOT let her see all his ugly scars! His eyes flew to the Winnie the Pooh clock on the wall over her shoulder. The next nanny shift would be starting very soon; he just had to hold out until the nanny arrived. His rash hadn’t bothered him all day; the heavily medicated cream did its job very well.

THE RAINBOW’S END by CK Cute Kitten “This was disappointing.” A cold wind blew, snowflakes and green shamrock confetti fluttering down onto the crowd. Bridget pulled her green scarf tighter and wished she’d just stayed in her warm dorm. The parade had featured bagpipers in kilts, Irish step dancers in green and gold costumes, people dressed up as leprechauns and throwing out chocolate coins to the children while the crowd was a sea of green. On the surface, it had been fun, but deep down, something was missing. Bridget frowned, deep in thought as she moved with the green sea of people. Now that the parade was over, they headed off to various nearby pubs for green beer. The day felt like a sham, an excuse for idiots to drink themselves stupid. What had she been expecting? A celebration of Celtic pride? Getting in touch with the culture her ancestors came from? She was just a foolish Plastic Paddy, yearning for a culture and country she wasn’t part of. Bridget shook her head and side-stepped a group of noisy young men in silly clover hats. As they brushed past, she could already smell the alcohol on their breaths. A hand reached out to grope her butt through her green woolen coat; she smacked it away and scowled. Perverts. That was just one of the reasons she didn’t like men much. Occasionally, there was a specimen she found attractive, but on the whole she was more attracted to women. “Can you believe those shirts? ‘Kiss me, I’m Italian’, ‘Kiss me, I’m Puerto Rican’. How stupid. If you want the luck o’ the Irish, then you have to kiss an Irish girl on St. Paddy’s Day. Particularly one of the Fae. Like us, eh, Moira?” That heavy Irish brogue caught her off guard. In this small college town, there was only one girl with a heavy Irish accent. Her heart sped up and her cheeks blushed. Bridget stood stock still, nervously looking around at the sea of faces, searching for her crush. Moira stood a few feet away, pressed up against a lamp post as people walked past. The wind blew her golden curls and fluttered the hem of her knee length white dress. Bright metallic green thread in the shape of embroidered shamrocks glimmered on the hem in the weak March sunlight. The Irish girl wore a hunter green leather jacket with matching fringed boots and green stockings embroidered with gold shamrocks. Moira was in one of Bridget’s classes. They’d spoken a few times, even worked on a project together once, but Moira was shy and reserved. She barely spoke. Bridget was crushing hard- the more she pushed and tried to get to know Moira, the more Moira recoiled. She only answered emails and texts relating to school work, and that had only been during the duration of their group project. She never wanted to hang out, no matter how many times Bridget asked. The only personal information Moira had shared was that she didn’t like men, and that was when a boy from class asked her out. Yet here shy Moira stood, talking and laughing with another girl. Red ringlets poked out from the girl’s lime green beanie. The hem of her green skirt was embroidered with shiny golden shamrocks and she carried a violin case. “Deirdre, you’re the one who wanted to watch the parade.” Moira stuck her tongue out and swung around the lamp post. “Besides, we need to get going. Oonagh promised turf from Tir Na Nog for the fire, and I don’t want to miss that!” She grabbed Deirdre’s hand and tugged her into the crowd. A gust of wind burst upon the crowd; people grabbed their hats and pulled their coats closed. Moira’s white skirt flew up, revealing a glimpse of bulky mint green underwear peppered with darker green shamrocks. Two big shamrock-shaped tapes fastened to the front panel. “Eep!” Moira bent over, struggling to hold her skirt down. Deirdre laughed, her own skirt whipping around her calves. Bridget’s mouth went dry and her heart fluttered. Her vision tunneled in to the two girls. To Moira’s waist. Such bulky, bulging underwear. Almost like a diaper. She recalled all the times she managed to sit next to Moira in class, and all the faint crinkling sounds the girl made. She was certain Moira was in a diaper. The thought made her pulse skip a beat. Bridget herself was a closet diaper lover. Why did Moira wear diapers- for fun, or because she needed them? The question only fueled her flame for Moira higher. She needed to talk to Moira, to connect with her, like she needed air to breathe. She was in love with Moira. She drifted closer to the two girls. Their talk of Fae, of Tir Na Nog- the Irish Otherworld, the land of the Fae- gave her no pause. She brushed it aside as them being silly. “I’d like to see how Oonagh’s going to pull that one off. Besides, my feet are itching to spin a reel and my fiddle’s tuned for playing.” Deirdre held her hand out to Moira, red curls bouncing as the wind died back down. Moira laced her fingers in Deirdre’s and followed the other girl into the crowd. Deirdre looked over her shoulder, her eyes sliding past Moira to skewer Bridget. She smiled. “So come, let’s go to the Rainbow’s End. There might not be a pot o’ gold, but the beer’s still golden. Along with some other liquids.” She giggled and Moira’s cheeks burned a rosy red. Bridget quivered. Although the red headed Deirdre faced Moira, it felt like she was talking to Bridget. Inviting her to some pub called The Rainbow’s End. Did she go? Did she stay? Something in Deirdre’s smile made Bridget feel like she was being invited to her doom. She shivered, and not from the cold. Deirdre and Moira took off, hand in hand. Bridget watched their retreating backs. Moira started skipping like a little child. Her shamrock-embroidered skirt flipped up, giving teasing glimpses of her thickly padded bottom. Bridget licked her lips. She had no choice- she followed.

None of the characters in that scene were familiar with it , hence them being able to use it and get away with it.

That's what I liked about it too- hence me using it :3

In first grade, it had been a bad day. Two accidents in his pants. After the first accident, Cameron had been taken to the nurse's office and changed into the spare set of clothes kept at school from all his frequent accidents. The other kids called him potty pants boy. His second accident came after lunch and recess. The bathroom had been at the end of the hall; he'd almost been there when his bladder lost the battle and he wet his pants. The teacher found him out in the hall, sobbing. She'd taken him to the nurse's office. His father, Charles MacLeod, had to leave work to pick him up. He'd stormed into the nurse's office; the heavy door banged into the wall so hard the door knob dented the plaster. In front of the school personnel, Charles was pleasant, but Cameron could see the cold, quiet anger burning behind that forced smile, lurking in his eyes. In the car, Cameron had been so terrified, he wet his already wet pants as he cowered on the floor of the backseat. At home, Charles' rage flared. He yanked Cameron out of the car by his hair while Cameron tried to run, sobbing how sorry he was. Charles snarled, his shouts echoing off the walls and his face turning purple. In his terror, he messed his favorite Spiderman undies. This set Charles off even more. Cameron had never seen his hot headed, temperamental father so angry. Eventually, Charles' screaming stopped; he went quiet and calm as he dragged Cameron to the bathroom to clean up. Cameron, in turn, almost fainted during a panic attack, unable to breathe. Charles calmly picked the trembling boy up and left him alone in the bathroom. He came back with duct tape. Bed alarms, pull ups, constant potty trips every hour; nothing worked to cure his son of his accidents. This was the final straw. He'd force Cameron to learn, one way or another. The hard way was all he had left. Cameron had wished his father would just hit him, yell at him some more. That was familiar. This silence was new. He did not know how to react to it, so he just lay in a ball on the floor, too terrified to move. Wordlessly, without looking at him, Charles had removed Cameron's wet, soiled clothing, picked Cameron up, and sat him on the toilet. The he duct taped him to the porcelain. And left him there for two days. Cameron's accident was on a Friday; he wasn't allowed off the potty until Sunday no matter how much he screamed for help, begged and pleaded. His father just calmly, quietly ignored him. The mess on his backside was dried and burned. He was limp with exhaustion, hunger and thirst. His legs were numb, cramped and burned. By Sunday morning, he was so weak and worn all he could do was whimper as his father ripped the tape off his bare skin. He crumpled bonelessly to the floor when Charles yanked him up and hauled him to a tub full of icy cold water. Feet touching the water, he'd kicked out, trying to jerk free. "You want hot? I'll give you hot." Charles had snarled, throwing Cameron on the floor and storming down to the basement to turn up the water heater, all the way up in his blind rage. Up where it shouldn't be- into dangerous, near boiling temperatures. Charles stormed back and refilled the tub. Cameron lay listless on the floor, too weak to get up. Charles jerked on Cameron's thin arm, nearly dislocating it. Cameron stumbled, hitting his head off the sharp, hard marble corner of the sink. He was unconscious upon impact, blood dripping from his head wound. Later, in the hospital, police station, and on the stand in the court room, Charles would claim Cameron slipped and fell. The burns on Cameron's body told a different story. The third degree burns covering most of his body started and ended in straight lines, leaving a clear, linear distinction between healthy skin and boiled, melted, damaged flesh. Those lines bore testament to Cameron being dipped into the steaming hot water. An accidental fall would have resulted in random splash burns. Straight lines could only mean he was purposefully placed into the extremely hot water. Cameron whimpered softly as his thin body trembled, curled up in a fetal position on the soft carpet as he relived the memories. He sucked frantically on his paci, nursing so hard on the rubber nipple the plastic shield pressed into his soft, bruised skin. The rhythmic motion soothed him, a deeply entrenched coping mechanism he'd learned in regression therapy hospital. Slowly, he calmed down as he fought off the emotional and mental scars from that horrible day. He nursed his paci until he calmed down, his heart stopped pounding and limbs shaking. He was oblivious to the warm, wet swell of his diaper as he peed. Slobber coated his chin and dampened his bib. He relaxed into the soft carpet, running his mitten covered fingers over it. The thick padding of the mittens blocked him from feeling the carpet fibers. This carpet wasn't as thick as the one in his nursery. His bony hip and shoulder ached from laying on the hard floor so long, and his leg muscles started to cramp from the too-small sleeper preventing him from stretching them out. His knees throbbed dully from his sojourn on the hardwood hallway floor. What was he doing here? He should get back to the safety of the nursery. Across the room, a sphere of bright colors drew his attention. He tilted his head, carpet fibers scratchy as his soft cheek skimmed over them. His ball. Oh, yeah- he came here to get his ball and get back before he got caught. Easy. He could do this. He was almost there. No problem. Keeping his gaze focused on the carpet, away from the all the pictures of his father, he rolled onto his belly and got up on his hands and knees. The huge bulk of his diaper pushed his legs far apart. His bib dangled down, brushing the carpet and the top of his padded mittens. His knees throbbed in protest; he could feel bruises forming to match the ones on his face from the ball hitting him. His diaper crinkled noisily and his limbs trembled in anxious fear as he crawled to his ball. He kept his thoughts focused on the ball, eyes glued to the carpet. The old memories hammered at his conscious, threatening to pull him under and drown him. He tapped the ball with a shaking mitten, gingerly rolling the toy along. The light to Beatrice's walk-in closet was on, door open; her voice floated out in a merry schoolgirl giggle. "Of course it's final, sweetie. We just have to wait for the judge's formal decision, but I had lunch with him Tuesday at the club. It's as good as done. I promised you Mommy would get you out and that's what I did. Competent lawyers are very hard to find. Ima Slyme is the best money can buy. She's working on getting your sentence reduced, if not overturned, thanks to a little legal technicality all those other idiotic boobs I hired kept missing. We've got the judge convinced that whole unpleasant bathroom incident was just an accident. Children do throw fits and tantrums, and accidents happen. Such a pity." Near the bedroom door, Cameron froze as horror washed over him. After a slight pause, Beatrice continued. "Of course you're coming home when you're released. Cameron will behave himself this time. He's in that baby program thing. His brain's nothing but mush. He probably doesn't even remember you. So there's nothing to worry about. Now, I'm meeting with Mrs. Slyme today to discuss the details. In an hour, actually, so I have to finish getting dressed. Bye, baby! Mommy loves you!" Daddy was coming home? The monster who boiled him alive. Coming back into his life. Cameron's world unraveled, all the progress he made in intensive therapy ripping away. Once again, he was a little boy with poop in his wet Spiderman panties, waiting for Daddy to come punish him. His mind blanked; he stared ahead with a vacant gaze, seeing nothing. His heart fluttered; he could barely breath. "Lazy, useless maid. I'm sick of doing her work for her. She's worse than Isabelle. I'm ready to give her a pink slip- Cameron? What are you doing?" The cook stood in the doorway, carrying a silver tray with a steaming cup of mint tea. Irritation gave way to confusion and worry as he took in the glazed eyes and puffy, swollen facial tissue on that pretty face of his employer's grandson. He set the tray down on the nearest dresser then knelt down from his impressive height, right in front of Cameron. The boy stayed still as a statue, lost in his own world. "Cameron? Baby?" Cameron still didn't respond when the cook waved his hand in front of the teen's face. "Okay." Tyrese the cook frowned, reaching out with huge, strong hands to pick the delicate boy up. "Let's get you back to the nursery." The touch and sudden movement pulled Cameron out of the depth of his whirling, turbulent thoughts and terror induced trance. He flinched instinctively at the physical contact. Tears welled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. His mingled whimpers and sobs were muffled by his paci. "S-sowwy. Sowwy. I be gewd. Sowwy!" He trembled, babbling over and over again he was sorry, he'd be a good boy. Tyrese's frown deepened; he shot a worried glance at the closet, where Beatrice still lingered on the phone to her son. He put two and two together and gentled his voice. "Come on, Cam-cam. It's okay." He spoke as if talking to an actual baby. His strong arms encircled Cameron's fragile body, easily lifting his slight weight. Tyrese stood up; Cameron gasped at the sudden movement. The gentle tone of that deep bass voice sunk in, and he realized who was holding him. He calmed slightly, a little more aware of his surroundings. Daddy wasn't here. Daddy couldn't hurt him. Tyrese was here, and he was always so nice to him. He laid his head on a broad shoulder. One of the cook's muscular arms was under the small of his back, the other under his bent knees. Squished to a muscled wall of chest, he could barely move. A sense of warmth, comfort and security washed over him. The gentle words and touch made him feel safe. "Shush." Tyrese gently soothed as he felt Cameron's trembling. "Your gram's been trying to spring your old man since he first got tossed in the joint. This isn't the first sleezeball lawyer she's hit up, and it won't be the last. Those scum talk a good game, fleecing a desperate old woman out of her money. That's all this is. So don't you worry." Those big arms rocked Cameron as he turned to head to the boy's nursery. Cameron had calmed enough to stay out of the past, grounded in the present. "B-baww. Peese." He lisped softly in a trembling voice. His toddler lisp was even more pronounced and garbled from his paci. He kept his eyes tightly closed, just focusing on the sound of the cook's voice and touch. He was irrationally afraid of making the cook mad, but even more afraid of leaving his ball behind. "S-sowwy!" He apologized again, though for what he wasn't quite sure- crying, disturbing cook, being in grandma's room. All of it. In his emotional state, all he knew was that he was bad, and bad boys needed to apologize or they'd get punished. Tyrese's bushy brows furrowed as he slowly deciphered Cameron's speech. He spied the ball and understanding dawned. He still wondered what the regressed boy was doing in here. Where was that lackadaisical nanny? "Ball? Got it." He punted the ball with his boat of a foot; the toy bounced into the hall and into the open door of the nursery. Cameron lay compliant and quiet in his arms, trying to make himself as small as possible. Show he could be a good boy. Tyrese scowled at the open nursery door with no baby gate in place. The door was all white, with Cameron's name in wooden letters painted pastel blue, mint green, and yellow. He assumed Cameron's ball rolled out, and naturally the boy had chased after his toy. Especially with no baby gate in place to stop him. And no nanny paying attention. Again. His face puckered like he was sucking on a lemon when he stepped into the nursery only to see the nanny absorbed in the television, her back to the rest of the nursery. He laid Cameron down in his crib. At the touch of soft blankets, the boy opened his eyes and timidly peeked up at the huge cook, who smiled to placate and reassure the sensitive, damaged boy. "There ya go, little guy. All safe and sound." His deep voice was as tender as his movements while he tucked a quilt around Cameron's still trembling frame. The quilt was made of pastel blue and yellow squares, trimmed in mint green ribbon. A birthday gift from one of Beatrice's friends. Cameron curled into a fetal position, paci working overtime. He barely seemed to notice Tyrese was there, lost in his head again. The cook moved a soft yellow ducky plush from the padded blue crib bumper next to the boy's head. Cameron didn't even move, didn't notice it. Tyrese sighed, staring down at Cameron with concern, before clicking the crib railing up and making sure it was secure so the boy wouldn't fall out. He gently ruffled Cameron's thick, boyishly unruly hair and the ghost of a smile peeked out from behind the plastic pacifier shield. "T-tank yew." Cameron lisped his thanks in a warbly toddler's babble. The cook turned from the crib to the back of the rocking chair. Through all this, not once had the nanny's eyes left the TV screen. "Isabelle." The name was a growl rumbling from deep within his massive chest, like the ominous rumble of thunder warning of an approaching storm. "What?" She snapped in annoyance, still focused on the television. "Isabelle." The rumbling ratched up a notch. The nanny froze, attention finally torn enough from the soap opera to recognize that tone. She sprang up immediately, turning off the TV and spinning around to stand at attention and staring at Tyrese in a mixture of shock and horror. "Tyrese? What are you doing in here?" All color drained from her face. Tyrese crossed his arms, muscles bulging. He had worked for the MacLeods for three decades and he was their head of staff. He rarely left the kitchen. "I found the baby in Mrs. B's room. In a poopy diaper. With no baby gate. And bruises on his face." His deep voice was even and matter of fact like a court judge reading out a list of charges before a defendant. Isabelle's eyes widened; her mouth moved like a fish but no sound came out. Never, ever had Cameron dared to leave his nursery, let alone crawl into the forbidden kingdom of his grandmother's bedroom. Cameron was always such a good boy; the baby gate was just a regulated formality of the caregiving protocol, and a pain in the ass. With him, she never thought it'd be needed. "In Mrs. B's room? Really?" She finally croaked out, full of bewilderment and disbelief. "Cameron. In Mrs. B's room." Tyrese echoed and nodded solemnly, as if handing down a death sentence. Cook and nanny stared at each other in grave silence, the cook waiting for the nanny to absorb the astonishing truth. From the large crib came a soft whimper as Cameron acknowledged the depth of his trespass. "Shush, sweetie." Isabelle sang out in a motherly, sweet coo. It died on her tongue as Tyrese's dead stare pinned her flat. "We talked about this before. All your warnings are on record. I'm calling the agency and reporting you. Consider this your last day. You're fired." He spun on his heel and left the nursery. A storm gathered on Isabelle's lovely face and her fingers balled into fists. She marched after him, slamming the nursery door shut before tearing into Tyrese in a stream of angry, rapid Spanish. Cameron winced at the echoing slam, curling further under his soft blankets. When cook reprimanded nanny, Cameron had pulled his blanky over his head, hiding. He'd been a very, very bad boy and gotten nanny in trouble. A small, rational part of him insisted nanny got her own self in trouble, but he still felt like it was his fault. If only he'd been a good boy. But his onesie was too small. If only he hadn't cried. But the ball had hurt. If, if if…but, but but…If she did this, if he did that. He'd learned in therapy that kind of thinking did nothing but drive his turbulent emotions further out of control and make his mind race. Things were what they were, and no amount of thinking or wishing would change that. What happened, happened. He couldn't change that. He could only figure out how to proceed from where he currently was. Limbs shaking, he closed his eyes and focused on slowing his rapid breathing. In and out in time with his sucks on his pacifier. Nanny Isabelle was gone. He knew from Tyrese's voice that she wouldn't be coming back. None of the staff did when Tyrese got mad like that. Cameron wouldn't miss her. He wanted to feel sorry for her getting fired, feel ashamed of himself for causing all this trouble. It was his default emotion for when something bad happened. If only he could be a good boy, then all the bad things would go away. He had tried so, so hard to be quiet, be good, yet bad things still happened. He sucked slowly on his binky, tongue playing with the large rubber nipple. The plastic shield slid over his web, slobbery lips. His lips and skin felt puffy and numb, unpleasantly tingling from Nanny Isabelle pressing down so hard. His downy soft blanky stung where it rested on the swelling flesh of his face where the ball had hit him. He just lay quietly in his crib, focusing on his pace and staring blankly up at the blue and yellow fibers of the blanky covering his head. Gradually he calmed and felt numb, so dead inside, as if all that happened had yet to fully penetrate. A layer of thick fog filled his brain and heart, stifling his thoughts and emotions. Nanny Isabelle gone, just like Daddy. Because he was a bad boy again? Grandma Beatrice wanted Daddy back. She didn't want Cameron. Because he was a bad seed? Because no matter how hard he tried, he still managed to screw everything up? He whimpered softly, too tired and drained for tears. His teachers, Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper, and his other nannies all said what a good boy, a good baby he was. But they were all paid to say that. Lili said he was a good baby, too. She was so nice to him, and she didn't have to be. She was also very bad, and she never felt sorry for it. He remembered the things she did at school that day. Taunting Mrs. Vesper, mouthing off to the principal. Making him laugh when he was ready to cry. He wanted her back. Oh, how he wanted her. Those thoughts and emotions chugged sluggishly through the numb fog. He still stared blankly ahead, too tired for tears. His throbbing cheek swelled, turning a purple red as the bruise formed. His paci slowed until it stopped moving, just sitting in his mouth. The heavy urine in his swollen diaper cooled along with the thick layer of poop smooshed all over his scarred diaper area, up his back and even on his lower tummy. His diaper was cold, clammy and itchy. His leg muscles cramped, yet he never moved, never noticed, too lost in his own head. Even when a fresh, warm stream of pee flooded his over saturated diaper and leaked out a leg hole to form a puddle around his padded bottom. He lay just like that, comatose and catatonic, until the next nanny clocked in for her shift and found him. "So, what shall we do about our Lili-girl?" Jack Renine thoughtfully slurped his coffee- black, strong, and fragrant. Just like he drank it back home in India and out on the trail in the wilds. Simple and plain. None of that dainty doily nonsense his wife Jill but so much importance on. He snorted, white whiskers of his bushy moustache twitching. He glanced across the small side table of his barely used office to the love of his life, who was not his wife. "I've been thinking…." Asha thoughtfully bit into a dainty finger sandwich the maid had brought in along with their coffee. The small sandwich consisted of soft, thin bread, creamy baby Swiss cheese, a thin ribbon of braised beef and a creamy sauce. It was very different from the foods she'd grown up with. She closed her eyes, savoring the rich flavor and succulent meat. She licked the crumbs and sauce from her fingers slowly, well aware of Jack watching her. She opened her eyes, lips curling upwards as she met his gaze. "Highschool might not be the best fit for our granddaughter. She's been causing quite the commotion around town." She paused a heartbeat but Jack said nothing, letting Asha lay claim to his granddaughter. She was the one who had cared for Lili ever since Jack showed up with her one day in India. Raised her and tamed the bull headed wild child. Growing up on a remote reservation had given Lili more freedom than a child in a typical school, American or Indian. Boarding school had been quickly dismissed; Jack hadn't trusted Lili to behave. Instead, she'd been left to Asha's care. And taught Lili she had. Sometimes she thought there were parts of Lili no one could reach. Lili truly hadn't been tamed; she'd just learned to act like she was. Lili knew how to behave well enough to impress foreign dignitaries, ambassadors, and high ranking government officials at balls and banquets. All things Asha had taught her. Jack frowned and carelessly clunked down the delicate, expensive teacup his wife adored. Jill was fond of anything expensive. Jack thought it was too flowery. "That pompous old windbag Witherspoon prattled on and on. It was just a little shaving cream on the toilet seats after the football team won. A harmless victory prank. He gave her detention." He shrugged his reedy shoulders. "I don't see the need for so much fuss. Back in my day, I did worse. Teachers gave you a switch to the backside and life went on. Why do they keep dragging this out? She was punished already." "Perhaps it's the new American way?" Asha teased, earning her a derisive snort from her long time lover. "Principal Witherspoon wanted to talk about her behavior since she's been in school. She's racked up quite a long list in a short time. She did have one good report, though. From the Regression Therapy Special Education teacher. The principal recommended she be placed in the program. He said it's helped cure many troublemakers." She let the implication hang in the air as she took a ladylike sip of tea and bit into another finger sandwich. Jack's sharp bark of laughter echoed off the spacious room's walls. Asha calmly waited for the dark humor to die down. He straightened up in his chair, locking gazes with her. He was no longer smiling. "You do remember the story I told you the night she arrived." His tone was a flat statement, not asking if she remembered. "Yes. I recall." Asha nodded anyway. After the incident with the puppy, Lili's father had beaten her with the buckle end of his belt. Asha had put cream on her bruises and welts. "It was all over that bloody puppy." She spoke calmly, sipping her tea. Jack folded his gnarled hands on the table. He didn't touch his coffee or the lady sandwiches. He waited until Asha's cup clinked back into its saucer. "She never hurt that dog. You've seen her with the animals. You know how she is. Yet she was more of a handful than Prissy ever was." He spoke that part fondly, with a warm inflection. Lili reminded him so much of himself as a child. "Or Prissy was just better at not getting caught. Girls aren't the sweet angels most people think." Asha offered Jack an angelic smile while Jack just stared at her than snorted in amusement at her joke. "Lili was a hard child to handle. The most eerie thing about that day…the thing I remember the clearest….Lili didn't cry. He tanned her ass so hard he tore open skin, and tears were running down her face. But she never cried out, no matter how hard he beat her. She wouldn't yield. Wouldn't give him what he wanted. Instead, she bit his thigh so hard her teeth got stuck in his skin. I had to tweeze several baby teeth out. If I hadn't found them, they would've killed each other. He was bleeding, so was she. After that, he was convinced she was demon possessed. That night, I almost believed him." "Yet we still managed to tame the beast. Lili's just a little different, so we need to handle her a little different." Asha shrugged. This was an old song and dance between them, and Jack usually left the lion's share of the taming to her. "She didn't behave very well in Indonesia." "Neither did we." Asha winked, causing a brief flicker of a roguish glint in Jack's eye at the memory. "She was just fifteen. So was my grand nephew. They were unsupervised and in a foreign country. Of course they'd get into trouble." "They were drunk and naked." Jack frowned, whiskers twitching. He had no objections to either activity- except when it was his young granddaughter doing said activity. "Natural attractions for kids that age. And they were punished. " His snowy mustache twitched as he frowned. "Rajesh got regressed therapy-" "Regression therapy, dear." Asha interjected in a mild correction. "Yes, that. Liliana got tied up in the middle of the village and flogged." The corners of his eyes wrinkled in remembered outrage. He still burned with the memory of helplessly watching as his granddaughter got whipped until she bled. "She refused the leniency of the judge's great, compassionate mercy." Asha's voice dripped sarcasm. "Their country, their laws, their customs. We all knew that. We tried everything we could, Jack. We threatened. Pleaded. Bribed. The money bought leniency. My grandnephew repented and they sentenced him to diapers. Lili spat in the judge's face." "You think she deserved that archaic punishment?" "I think it's just part of who she is. And that experience left an impact on her." Silence fell while Jack picked up a sandwich and put it whole into his mouth. "She was a perfect angel after that." "For a time. She was good with Rajesh, just like she was with the tiger cubs." "My little monster has a surprising maternal instinct." Jack chuckled then sobered up and caught Asha's steely molten brown eyes. "And you think regressing her and unleashing that beast would help her?" Asha daintily sipped her tea, mannerisms much like Jill. "Not exactly. I've got something else in mind." Jack stared at her for a moment. When she didn't reply, he inclined his head, silently giving her his agreement and permission. ''Jack strolled down the huge, long hall of the home he owned but rarely visited. His money paid the bills and paychecks that kept this place running. Just a drop in the bucket of his account. He read the account summaries of his estate, but actually being here made him feel like a king visiting a foreign, vassal country. Some place he owned, but never visited. Passing a family portrait, he paused, studying the photo. Jill sat in an ornate, throne-like chair, Jack standing behind her with their sons and their wives on either side. Liliana and Priscilla as little girls in fancy, frilly dresses knelt at Jill's feet. He remembered the last time Lili saw her father. Last Christmas, when Lili's father had come to visit them in India. He claimed to want to see his estranged family and mend fences, but he'd actually came to beg more money from Jack. Lili's father spent most of his time preaching on missions in South America, occasionally coming home to visit his niece and mother. Never his daughter and father. Before the Christmas visit, years had passed since father and daughter saw one another, ever since the puppy incident. Ever since Indonesia, Lili had appeared to calm down. She'd been so well behaved, even with the spoiled offspring of dignitaries at government banquets. She was so mannerly and polite. Even when her father first arrived for his Christmas visit. Until they were alone and he tried to make amends, apologize and get his daughter back. Lili wasn't interested and let him know it in no uncertain terms. He remarked on her snake bites and facial piercings. He quoted Scripture at her. In turn, she carved a pentagram symbol into her palm with her hunting knife and offered to conjure up a demon. He'd run from the room in terror. He and Jack got into a raging argument that ended with him leaving India that night. Jack hadn't heard from him since. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& "Ah, baby girl, there you are." Asha smiled warmly as Lili breezed into Jack's stuffy study. The corners of her mouth quirked at the second long pause in Lili's confident stride as Lili caught her emphasis on baby girl. Such a little thing with so many possible meanings. Things Asha would never say out loud. Subtext. Unspoken nuances in life that made all the difference between the lions and the lambs of the world. Lessons she'd tried to teach Lili. Those were the kinds of things a person had to figure out for themselves. For the most part, Lili was a clever girl when she wasn't being incredibly Jack-like in her stupidity, like during their sojourn in Indonesia. So Asha patiently taught in subtle nuance. Sometimes, thousands of tiny cuts were more effective than one great lashing. Liliana smoothly sank down onto the stiff, wooden chair in a prim, proper heiress posture that would have done Priscilla proud. Lili usually boyishly slouched and sprawled. Now, she sat in an open, relaxed yet modest seat befitting a well bred lady of quality. Prissy used to sit like that; Jill had trained her well. "Dadiji." Lili inclined her head, addressing Asha as grandmother in Hindi. A polite smile pasted on her pink lips as the two regarded each other like chess players. Asha knew all Lili had done, and Lili knew that she knew. Now the dire question: What would Asha do? Asha sipped her tea, regarding the girl over the porcelain rim of a gold leafed cup. she thought of her as her own grandchild, but she had Lili's measure. Lili hid her feelings behind a veil of social politeness, but Asha saw how she squirmed inside. Asha herself gave no reaction to Lili's strange attire. Well, strange for her. She looked uncannily like Priscilla dressed like that. The girls could be sisters, not cousins. Almost twins with Lili out of all that dark gothic crap. Only her snakebites distinguished her. Her perfectly preppy ensemble hung on Lili like a Halloween costume. Asha's smile slowly grew as she set her teacup down. Oh yes, this would do quite nicely for a lesson. "I like your new look." Lili just nodded warily, put on edge by that smile. Lili would wear that costume so well it would become a second skin. A cloak. A disguise so believable it felt real, fooled others. Smoke and mirrors. All in the subtext of life. People believed what they saw, felt, perceived. Life was so much simpler when they saw what you wanted them to see. You had to make them believe it was truth, trick them into thinking it was something they wanted to see. With all the waves Lili had been making about town, she hadn't learned that lesson yet. "Have some tea, dear." With a clink of Jill's expensive, fine china, Asha poured Lili a cup and pushed the tray of finger sandwiches toward her. Lili hesitated then took one, eyes never leaving Asha's face. "So nice to see you spending quality time with your cousin." "Yeah." Asha heard the hesitation in Lili's tone, the wariness. She hadn't figured out Asha's angle yet. To safe face and give herself time, Lili shoved the whole sandwich into her mouth in a gesture reminiscent of her grandfather. No dainty bites of a well bred lady here. She washed it down with a slurpy gulp of tea then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand instead of the cloth napkin and shrugged. "We had some catching up to do. Figure I owed Prissy that much." Her mouth twitched as if at a private joke. Asha's dark brown eyes glinted as she pinned Lili into place. "Especially those diapers?" Her eyebrow rose up for emphasis. Lili paled. "Her old diapers leaked a lot. The new ones last longer and keep moisture away from her skin. Helps prevent diaper rash." Liliana quickly caught herself, the lie slipping through her lips like silk. "So it was all for Priscilla's welfare? Very considerate of you, given your history with each other." Asha took a dainty sip of her tea, staring into Lili's eyes. "That was long ago. Time to forgive and forget, yeah? Especially after her tragic accident." Lili took a small finger sandwich, never looking away from Asha. Her hand bumped into her plate, making it clatter into her tea cup; a small betrayal of her nerves. Asha's lips twitched. Lili was almost as good a liar as she was. Bend and twist the truth, but believe it to be a truth so others will believe it, too. The art of truthful lying. "And the boy? Max?" "An old friend of hers. I brought him to visit. She's been cooped up in the hospital then in that room, all by herself. She always used to be so social. I figured she was lonely." "I'm relieved you're telling me the truth." Asha watched as Lili's hand paused for a fraction of a second before bringing the small sandwich up to her mouth. Asha closed her eyes and sipped her tea. Opening them a little, she caught Lili slouching in a moment of respite. She opened her eyes and Lili snapped to attention, her back properly straight. Sweetie, the noose fits you well. She thought. "The truth is much better than those ugly stories floating around town about your behavior." Lili stuffed her mouth full of sandwich, giving herself a moment to think. "I did a lotta stupid shit when I was young. People remember. You know how truth gets exaggerated in the town rumor mill, yeah?" "Yes, I've heard all the old stories about you. Quite a few new ones, too." Asha paused to pat her lips with a cloth napkin. "Mapleton is such a lovely town. I've been having afternoon tea with a few members of the Ladies' Society. I also had an…interesting and informative nightcap with a teacher. She specializes in Regression Therapy. Oh, what was her name……" She drew it out, smiling expectantly at Lili, who sat stock still. "Ah, Annabelle Sweeney, that's it." Lili's eyes widened, caught off guard at the realization of just how much snooping around Asha had done. "I also bumped into a Mr. Witherspoon. He told me some stories about you. Of course, I didn't believe any of it. Not my well behaved baby girl." Lili choked on her tea, spluttering at Asha's well timed blow. Tea dribbled out of her mouth, down her chin, and onto the table while Asha sat back calmly. Tea dribbled out her mouth, down her chin, and dripped onto the table. Asha passed her a cloth napkin; Lili mopped up the mess. Asha's last words were a lie, and they both knew it. Lili second guessed herself, her mind racing to figure out Asha's game, what her angle was. "Okay." She said, but Asha just stared at her with a cool, all-knowing look, like she could see right through her. Lili squirmed as the silence dragged out, then she crumbled under the weight of Asha's stare. "Fine." She exhaled sharply and tossed the wet napkin down. "Maybe I got a little carried away." "You could say that again. I'm just glad to see you mending your ways. Or appearing to, at any rate. I particularly like the new look. It makes a statement to the rest of the world. I do hope you'll keep it up. And taking care of your disabled cousin. Shows you're growing up. Maturing that comes with change. Or at least the appearance of it. Still, all this free time on your hands…..you really should do something with it. I have the perfect solution, and you'd be helping one of dear Jill's friends out, too. You've got plenty of experience helping me with Rajesh, and with Prissy, too." "Um. Okay." Lili fidgeted, poking at her teacup, looking down at the stains on the napkin. Asha was backing her into a corner. She could mouth off, swagger around, but Asha always knew how to disarm her. Egging Asha on always made things worse for Lili in the end. Oh, Asha never outright said it. Her discipline came in small, unexpected ways. Like a tiger stalking its prey, Asha was patient. Thousands of little cuts instead of one big blow. Punishment like that was over with swiftly; Asha liked to drag it out. "That pink is a lovely shade on you, by the way. I hope dear, sweet Prissy has more in that color. Perhaps you could move some of her old things into your closet, fill up some of that empty space." Asha sat back, smiling softly as confusion cleared and horror dawned on Lili's face. Lili realized at least one of Asha's intentions. Empty space…Asha had the maids clean out Lili's goth clothing. She was stuck with Prissy's wardrobe. Lili looked gutted; she sat frozen in a daze and Asha congratulated herself on a well delivered lesson. Lili licked her lips, fumbling with her teacup as she slurped noisily at it. The black nail polish on her fingernails was chipped. Asha just took away one of her prized posessions; her self-expression. Oh, sure, Asha made them sound like sweet, innocent suggestions, but Lili knew what they really were. The game was in motion; she had to play nice. She gave a warm, preppy smile. "So glad you approve of the changes. Dadiji. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I need to finish rearranging my closet." At Ashas' nod, Lili stood up and calmly strolled out of the room. Inside, her blood was boiling. Thoughts bounced around her skull like ping pong balls. Blend in with the sheeple. Little wolf, don a sheepskin. Whatever Lili had been expecting from Asha, that wasn't it. Then again, she never knew just what to expect from her. Was this punishment really going to fit the crime? Then again, Asha's punishments rarely did. That wasn't the point. Instead, they were meant to show Lili a point, if she could figure it out. The little cuts and jabs would continue until she did figure out the lesson. Right and wrong were subjective; they depended upon a person's morality, and that was subjective to culture and religion. It was all just a big shit show. So what was the fucking point? What did Asha want her to see? Lili swore as she stalked down the hall. Fine. She'd play Asha's game. She'd be the sweet, good girl. Just thinking of all the colors in Prissy's closet made her gag. Some people would say she had no choice, but they were wrong. The were always choices. Good and bad; they were still hers and that's what she valued most. Freedom. Like in Indonesia. Yes, according to the local culture, she had done wrong. She was not sorry. She could have pretended to be; she could've followed Rajesh in his choice, let them wipe her mind and turn her into a big baby. She'd have been as helpless as Raj still was. As helpless as Prissy. Cameron. . Cameron. A pang of sorrow twisted her heart as an image of his pretty face and sweet doe eyes filled her head. She missed him. She still remembered her promise; a promise she was having trouble fulfilling. She'd been an overconfident jackass at school, but she'd wanted him to believe in her. Now, she'd let him down. He probably hated her lying guts. He should. Her heart twisted at those thoughts. She shuddered, hugging herself tight. She had tried just waltzing in to talk to Beatrice, but the old battleaxe turned her away. She came back with the pretense of collecting clothes for the Ladies' Society charity drive. She was turned away. She tried straight up sneaking around to find Cameron's nursery. She was escorted off the premise and asked not to come back. She had even tried talking to Jill; that had the worse results. The old bitch had thrown a vase full of fresh cut garden flowers at her head while screeching hysterically and accusing her of being an unholy demon spawn. Lili would've laughed if it wasn't so sad. Jill saw her granddaughter through the same eyes her son did. In that moment, Lili had regretted burning her bridges with her grandmother. Beatrice would do whatever Jill wanted, even letting a miscreant like Lili babysit her grandson. Lili snorted. Brain dead sheeple. Her annoyance was short lived, drowned out by her longing for Cameron. She thought of his soft smile and timid squeaks. Such a cutie. She just had to find a way to get to him. But first, she had a closet to clean out.

Every so often I change my pic up. This change was because I really liked this one, and it's still winter, so I decided to put up a winter pic.

YourFNF- There's still a few more characters who will enter the frey. None of the ones so far were designed to be likable. Both Sonja and Emma Jean were using the autism label as a bullshit excuse- basically, a means to justify their ends. With Sonja, she was just aping Emma Jean. It's not right, but for them, it's effective, so they used it. Reila poked through the rest of the bag, finding frilly white socks trimmed in pink lace. She sneered and threw them back into the bag with a rustle of both bag and her diaper. Along with the socks were a pair of scuffed, plain white sneakers with velcro closures. Either oversized toddler or geriatric old lady. The shoes were just as hideous as the pants, but it was either ugly old lady shoes or urine smelling boots. "Good baby girl." Emma Jean cooed. "See how easy things are when you're a good girl? Keep it up and Santa might bring you something special this year." Reila turned from the shoes, looking at Emma Jean as if the deranged woman had lost her mind. "You're certifiable. I'm not retarded, and I'm not a baby." She retorted in a hot, firm tone despite her urge to shout. Shouting had gotten her nowhere. She wanted to tell the crazy bat to fuck off, slam the door in her face. She could feel the rage simmering in her veins. Only Emma Jean's constantly repeated threats of an emergency stop and psychiatric hospital held her in check. After the ruckus she'd already raised, the two bitches in flight attendant uniforms looked all too eager to be rid of her. Even if they did not believe Emma, they would go along with it, just to get her out of their lives. Was that what happened to Rachel? Reila shivered at the sudden sense of dread that washed over her at Emma Jean's beaming smile. Emma Jean raised a plucked eyebrow. "Of course you're not a little baby. Santa and his companions are real. They represent the spirit of the holidays. Santa is everywhere you go this time of year!" "Your nuts." Reila sneered, turning with a crinkle to sneer at the ugly white shoes. "Like peace on earth? Good will to men?" Sonja asked in a somewhat confused tone. "Yes, exactly. Time to open our hearts. Repent of evil and our selfish ways. Just like Scrooge in a Christmas Carol." Emma Jean beamed at Sonja. Reila rolled her eyes at both her mother and the crazy lady. She tried to ignore them once more as she unvelcroed the shoes and pulled the tongues out. She leaned against the sink and bent with a loud rustle from her padded behind as she put her bare foot into the shoe and velcroed it shut. She did the other shoe, both feeling weird with bare feet. She glanced back at the bag, tempted to put the warm socks on. Frilly baby socks. She sneered and turned her nose up in the air. "Well, dearie, you should be able to handle things from here. I need to get back to Rachie before she gets too fussy." Emma Jean picked up her puse from where she had sat it on the floor when she had come over. She fished around in her purse. "Thank you again for all you've done. I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here." Sonja gushed. She'd probably have fallen to pieces; Reila would have gotten them kicked off the plane and they'd end up stranded in some foreign country that did not speak English or German. Sonja shuddered at the thought. "Praise the Lord, dearie. Not me. He's the one who arranged all this. I'm merely His tool." Emma Jean fished out a neon pink gel pen and an old scrap of receipt, scribbling on the blank back. "Geeze, can we go yet?" Reila was sick of this shit show. She watched her other and Emma Jean chatting and her scowl deepened. She was so done, so over it. She was dressed. "I'm going to sit down." She declared then flounced out of the bathroom with a loud, crinkling waddle. The huge bulk of her diaper forced her legs apart. Her gaze remained fixed to the airplane floor. The awkward, crinkling waddle destroyed her indignant walk, making her look like a sulky toddler. She didn't know what was worse; the bulge or the waddle? Emma Jean glanced at Reila as the humiliated girl toddled past with a red face. Sonja looked concerned, as if torn between staying here and chasing after her wayward offspring. Emma Jean placated her with a reassuring smile. "Here, dearie. Do keep in touch." She handed the scrap of paper to Sonja and put her neon pink pen back in her purse. Sonja squinted at the messy, bright scrawl. "Kringle?" She read off Emma Jean's last name. Emma Jean Kringle. "My husband's last name. Rather unusual, isn't it?" Emma Jean laughed like she was used to receiving that reaction. "Took me a while to get used to it. They're a very big family, and very close. Cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces everywhere. Kringles all over the world." She chuckled again, as if at some private joke. "And then there's the extended family relations- the Klauses, another huge, old family. Jolliest souls you'll ever meet. Ah, and the Ruprechts." She sighed heavily, as if she'd rather not think about that particular branch of the extensive Kringle family tree. "Rotten to the core, every last one of them." She shook her head mournfully. Sonja just stared, stunned. Kringle? Klaus? Could that be pronounced like Claus? Ruprecht….that name sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. "Before my Rachie was diagnosed, I used to think she got her temper from that side of the family." "Wow. That's….a…big family…" Sonja floundered for words, partially wistful. Her only living relations were Reila and Great Grandmother Uschi. "Oh, it is! You should see the family reunions. Last time, we rented out an entire amusement park. They usually end with a Ruprecht or two in jail." Emma Jean scrunched her nose up in distaste. "Sounds like quite the party. Oh, here, let me give you my email?" Sonja stuttered out, not sure if she was expected to reciprocate or not. "Not necessary, dearie. Just title your e-mail 'From Sonja and Riley' and I'll know it's you." Emma Jean giggled. "Well, I must be going now. Ta-ta!" With a wave, the lady in neon pink velour went back to her seat, leaving a flabbergasted Sonja in her wake. Sonja watched as Emma Jean and her retina burning pink left. She folded the slip of paper and put it in her pocket.The tension in her snapped and all she wanted to do was collapse bonelessly into her seat with a strong drink to take the edge off. The flight attendants stared at her; she stared right back, still reeling from the entire episode. She forced a tight smile; their eyes slid away, into the open bathroom. She followed their gaze and groaned, shoulders slumping a little. Reila had left her pungent pants behind. Sonja waited, eyeballing the flight attendants, who did not move. Their eyes slid from her to the bathroom and back again. She sighed, going in to clean up Reila's mess yet again. She grabbed the discarded blue grocery bag that crinkled like Reila's diaper, then put in the dry-but smelly pants and socks. The Ugg boots were still damp and reeked of piss. Reila would never wear the expensive boots again and no doubt expected unemployed and nearly broke Sonja to buy her another pair. Sonja apologized to the flight attendants, who just smiled tightly and nodded graciously, then made her way back to her seat. She soon caught up to Reila, who waddled down the aisle ahead of her. That huge diaper slowed the surly teen down. Under her pink pants and teal sweater, her butt ballooned out in an unmistakable bulge. Passengers on the end aisles looked as Reila waddled past, tugging at her shirt hem uselessly. Reila's head was down, cheeks scarlet. Several steps behind, Sonja could hear the faint crinkle. Reila's hugely padded behind and awkward, bow-legged waddle held her full attention. Her lips twitched with the faint urge to giggle. Watching Reila toddle along was almost cute. It reminded her of happier times- not that Reila had been an easy baby, but she'd been smaller then and easier to control. Sonja found herself wishing for those good old days again. The fat man's vacated seat was already cleaned, the urine puddle long gone. The passenger in front of Reila, the one whose seat she had shoved, stared at her crotch as she passed him with a huge, vindictive smile on his face. He silently enjoyed her agony; Reila never even noticed him as she crinkled and shuffled along. She twisted awkwardly, maneuvering into her seat before plopping down with an audible crinkle. She stared resolutely out the window, not noticing Sonja either, blocking the entire world out. Sonja shook her head as she waited for Reila to sit and get situated, then she sat down herself. Reila always did have a nasty temper, just like her father. Sonja winced at that thought. So much like her father, despite Sonja's best efforts to raise her right. Would Reila's fate be the same as her father's? A life behind bars. Sonja sighed heavily, her soul sinking with those heavy thoughts like a cement block tied in a noose around her neck. She never wanted to be a mother, especially at eighteen, a senior in highschool. A broken condom changed all that. Her one night stand did the socially responsible thing at the time and shacked up with her. Neither of them were happy; it was a tumultuous on again, off again relationship. As time passed and their child grew, it became more off than on and finally went cold when he landed a lengthy prison sentence. Sonja looked over at Reila; her daughter's profile was sharp against the little round window. All she could see was Reila's father. So much of him in his baby girl. Reila ignored her, not even glancing at her. Sonja rubbed her face with her hands, fighting the urge to cry. Maybe this trip could be a good thing. Maybe Great Grandma Uschi would have an answer for Sonja's hopeless situation. It was a last, desperate hope. Reila shifted in her seat. She felt like she was sitting on a very noisy pillow. She scowled. The soft padding enveloped her sensitive private parts in a warm cocoon, squeezing her whenever she shifted. She shifted her weight around, crinkling with every muscle twitch, unable to get comfortable because of the thick bulk. This diaper was ridiculous. Part of her still wanted, after all that happened, to rip the diaper off. That indignant part insisted she did not need a diaper. The horrid pink sweatpants argued otherwise. Pissing her pants in a flood not even her trusty pull-ups could handle. Pissing on a stranger. Her heart beat fast; she scrunched her face up, eyes squeezed close. She'd wear the damn diaper just….just in case. To protect her from another accident- not that she would have another accident. She was done with excuses. No more. She was going to potty a lot and keep her diaper dry. If she stayed quiet, kept her diaper on, she wouldn't have to see that pink nightmare again. Reila shuddered at the thought, sinking down in her seat with an audible crinkle. The movement pressed the thick padding against her crotch. So soft, like a lover's caress on her mound. Thick, soft, protective. This diaper could handle a flood; she didn't have to worry about that again. She sighed, relaxing for a brief, flashing second. Then she sneered and snarled at her reflection. Diapers were neither desired nor required. She just had to prove it. Show her mother she was an adult; she did not need her. Especially after siding with Emma Jean. If her mother had just kept the extra pull-ups, the whole sordid episode would not have happened. The pull-ups had not saved her from flooding. Now, if she had had this thick diaper on, she would not have peed everywhere….. Reila growled at the thought, wanting to punch the window and her reflection until her knuckles bled. Instead, she just scrunched in on herself, shifting around with a loud crinkle, and gripping the armrests so tight her fingernails dug into the plastic. Maybe the senile old bat they were going to see would treat Reila like the adult she was. Would make Sonja realize just how much she screwed up, get her off Reila's back. Only babies, geezers, tards, and disabled wore diapers, and Reila was none of those things. Her great-great grandmother was her only hope. Otherwise, she saw no way out of this. She closed her eyes, depression washing over her. "Hans, there they are. And she's wearing a diaper, just like me." "Are you sure, Nicky?" "Yup, look at how poofy her butt is. That's a diaper butt." A giggling voice answered. "I meant you sure that's them. And get your thumb out of your mouth. People are watching." "Sowwy." Nicky smiled up at the huge man from his wheelchair. Hans Trapp paused in his scan of the crowd coming through the train station to glance down at his charge. Nikolas Klaus was such a pretty boy; he was usually mistaken for a girl. At eighteen, he was still more boy than man; no growth of facial hair, voice high, clear and sweet- which only added to his femininity. Hell, his balls hadn't dropped yet; Hans recalled from changing Nicky's diaper. Some freak medical condition? Someone tampering with his body? Hans had no idea, and no inclination to pry. He was just asked to babysit the boy, so that just what he did. Already Hans had gotten numerous compliments on how pretty his daughter was, people mistaking Nicky for a girl and for Hans' daughter. Hans was just the emergency babysitter. Nicky's usual caretaker, Az, had dumped Nicky on him at the last minute, forcing Hans to take the boy with him on his errand for his neighbor, old lady Uschi. "Yes, Uschi's great granddaughter and her daughter." Nicky giggled again. "Right there." He pointed as people passed. "See? Next to the lady with the flower hat." Hans leaned a little and saw the mother and daughter. "Right. Let's go." He pushed Nicky's red wheelchair forward. Nicky had shiny green ribbon woven throughout the spokes on his wheels, along with tiny silver bells that jingled and tingled merrily. The boy loved Christmas, a little too much, Hans thought as the jingling tingling caused people to look. All people saw was the smiling face of a pretty "girl", the wheelchair belt pushing her sparkly red sweater up to reveal the unmistakably humongous diaper bugle through "her" sparkly white leggings. Most people automatically returned Nicky's joyous smile, though their smiles were tinged with pity. "Where the hell is that stupid mother fucker at?" Reila huffed, arms crossed as she looked around at the crowd. "Be quiet! Watch your mouth!" Sonja quietly snarled. Her palm itched to backhand Reila's face. Apart from the late arrival of their plane and a miserable train ride, the rest of their long trip had been uneventful. Reila sulked, bitching about her diaper and threatening to take it off. Sonja harped on her and would not let her go to the bathroom by herself, resulting in Reila not going at all. Reila had tried repeatedly to run to the bathroom and rip the damn thick, horrible, noisy padding off, but Sonja always got up and followed her, catching her before she could waddle to the bathroom. She'd grab her hand and drag her along like a toddler. Reila had fought at first until she realized that just garnered more attention. The train was too crowded and too confusing for her to slink off and find the bathroom on her own. A new country she'd never been too- the home of her ancestors. Where they spoke a language she barely knew, had never wanted to learn. Sonja spoke just enough to get by, but it made her even more short tempered and snappish. That irritated Reila almost as much as the wet diaper she was trapped in. That huge diaper certainly held a lot of fluid. Reila had fallen asleep on the plane and had woken up wet just as it was time to rush off the plane for the train. And now the man who was supposed to pick them up was late, leaving her in the damned wet diaper longer. "Just get me a fucking pull up from the luggage and I'll go change." Reila hissed. People passing talked in a language she barely understood, caught only a few words of. Reila's grandmother, before she got sick and passed away, had tried to teach Reila German. Reila had not been interested at all in her heritage. All of the writing was in German, with very little English at this station out in the alpine boonies. She had no idea where to even begin to look for a bathroom. People passing by stared at the thickly diapered girl. Some spoke English and knew what she said, but for those that did not, they did know a bad attitude and angry tone when they heard one. Passers by looked as if they'd like to spank the girl themselves and shot Sonja judgemental looks for not controlling her daughter. For raising a rotten brat. Sonja ignored her, peering anxiously through the crowd. Bells merrily jingling caught her attention. The man pushing the festively bedecked wheelchair, not the pretty girl in it, caught her attention. Tall. Rugged. With dirty blonde hair peppered with gray streaks and an easy air about him. She idly wondered when was the last time she'd been on a date…. "Great. A festive attention whoring gimp." Reila rolled her eyes at the sight. "I'm sure she's more pleasant to be around than you." Sonja snapped back, tired of her daughter's constant complaints. The man and girl came within speaking distance. "Sonja? Uschi's girl?" The heavily accented English rolled off his tongue and Sonja blushed despite herself. The man's smile was like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. She was tired from the long trip, stressed from struggling with a language she hadn't spoken since her own mother died, and frustrated with Reila. His smile directed at her melted all that away; she could lose herself in those blue eyes. "Yes, that's me. Sonja." She answered in German. "You're even prettier than the picture Uschi showed me. Just like the last time we met." Sonja paused, translating to English in her head. The more she used her German, the more rust fell off, though her brain was still sluggish. She blushed when she finished translating. Did she have that right? Could he really have said what she think he said? She stared into that beguiling smile and warm eyes…. "We've met? Surely, I'd remember you!" Sonja would have fallen for him at first sight. "We were just children. You fell out of my father's pear tree." His deep, husky laughter melted her bones and stirred old, forgotten childhood memories. "When I stayed with great grandmother Uschi. We spent that whole summer together. Hans. Hans Trapp." Sonja had only visited, had only met great grandmother Uschi once, when she was a small child and had stayed with her for a summer. She had played everyday with the neighbor's son who was her age. "Every day until you had to go to America." Hans switched back to his heavily accented English after listening to Sonja's struggling German. He was impressed she had tried on her own accord to speak it and this was his way of thanking her for the effort. He grinned, pleased she'd remembered so much. The longer she stayed here, the more her German would come back. He spoke as if Uschi's house was her true home. "How could I have forgotten such a wonderful time?" Or such a gorgeous hunk? Sonja's cheeks reddened with natural blush. She was inwardly relieved when he switched back to English. His English, though heavily accented, flowed much easier than her stuttering, faltering German. "Time passes. We grew up. Forgot childhood. But it is good to have you back. In time for old traditions, too." Hans grinned. During this entire exchange, Reila shifted irritably. The soggy padding shifted with her, warm and wet, tickling her crotch. After hours in it, she still was not used to it. She wanted to scratch her urine-soaked privates but the diaper was so damn thick any discrete rubbing and pressing could not be felt. It only made her diaper crinkle louder. She rolled her eyes at Sonja; her stupid mother was giddy as a love-sick schoolgirl. Reila strained to listen, to figure out what was going on, but she could barely understand the bastard's accented English. She missed when they switched from English to German and back again. She glanced at the girl in the wheelchair, scowling at the girl's thickly diapered crotch, then blushed heavily when she realized she herself probably looked like that. Was her own diaper really that visible? She tugged on the hem of her long teal sweater, trying in vain to hide her own gigantic diaper bulge. The girl in the wheelchair watched her and giggled, not bothered at all by her own exposed diaper bulge. Reila sneered at her. "Just great. Fuck my luck. Looks like I'm stuck with you." The girl ignored her hostility, speaking in a high voice like the chime of bells. Her sweet notes were as heavily accented as Han's. "I think they're cute. Hans is single. Is your mom?" "Of course the Cheerful Christmas Cripple would. What's with all those fucking bells?" Reila ignored her question, gesturing with a jerky swipe of her arm at the girl's wheels. "Jingle bells. Silver bells. Sounds of the season. Helps get people in the Christmas spirit." The girl giggled. "I'm Nicky. You're Reila." "You're bells are annoying as hell. Like you. You're giving people migraines. " "Most people seem to enjoy them. I've gotten a lot of smiled." "Because people pity you. Stupid gimp. Is your brain damaged, too?" They were interrupted by a hand touching Reila's shoulder. "This is my daughter. Reila." Sonja introduced her to Hans. "Kid's got a mouth on her." Hans watched Sonja's frown deepend. "And your eyes. Her father must be proud." "Oh, no. No. It's just me. Her dad's not in the picture. I'm a single mom. Raised her myself." Sonja stammered. Hans' lips quirked in a half smile and Sonja blushed. "I'm not a kid! I'm an adult!" Reila insisted in a rising tone. Her temper was even shorter after the harrowing trip. Her nerves were frayed and her soaked diaper was itchy. she was marinating in her own urine and even if she dared to scratch her crotch in public, the huge diaper swaddling her had such a thick layer she would not feel the scratches. No relief. "Right." Hans said flatly, looking at her obviously diapered crotch. He sniffed the air. "Does anyone else smell pee?" Reila flushed red and tugged on her teal sweater, trying futilely to hide her diaper. Sonja bit her lip, not sure what to say. Maybe some embarrassment would be good for Reila? The wheelchair 'girl'…who was really a beautiful, effeminate boy….Nicky…giggled again. "I'm dry. I think." He did not protest when Hans swiftly bent over, one huge hand going between Nicky's legs and squeezing the obscenely obvious, monstrous diaper bulging against Nicky's white tights. Reila stared in horror, eyes wide and face huge as she witnessed the diaper check. Sonja stared as well. That was something she could see Emma Jean doing… Nicky just smiled serenely as if he was used to it. Reila shuddered. "You're good. Just a little damp." Hans stood up. "Your child?" Sonja asked after an awkward pause. "No, no. I don't have kids. I'm just babysitting." Han's accent deepened as he grew flustered. "It was a last minute emergency. Things were hectic with the family business and Grandpa needed Az's help. Christmas is our busiest time of year. It was very kind and generous of Hans to help out by looking after me. I'm sorry for intruding on your reunion. I'm Nicky. It's a pleasure to meet both of you." Nicky smiled sweetly up at Sonja. "You can't take care of yourself? How much of a tard are you?" Reila rolled her eyes. She'd kill anyone who tried to humiliate her with a diaper check. Even that hulking gorilla Hans. The soaked bulk of her own diaper pressed against her and she winced. She was jealous of Nicky's "just damp" diaper. "Reila, enough! I think you'd be more understanding given your own diaper! And your accident on the plane!" Sonja scolded in an exhausted, feeble reprimand. "Moom!" Reila whined, flushing in embarrassment . "Nicky is a very special boy. You'll see. You could learn a lot from him." Hans frowned at Reila. Nicky blushed at the praise. "A boy?" Sonja and Reila exclaimed in surprised unison. Reila then glared at Sonja, as if Sonja had spoken at the same time on purpose. "Yes, a boy. A weird, girly boy. But still a boy under his diapers." Hans shrugged his huge shoulders, as if he didn't think Nicky was much of a boy. Nicky blushed. "You can call me a girl if you prefer. I don't mind. They're just labels, and I'm….just me." He shrugged in an unconscious imitation of Hans, as if he didn't think much of gender or labels. Reila made a disgusted, gagging sound. She shifted her weight; her diaper crinkled noisily and the soaked padding pressed against her. She wanted out of this diaper! Disgust for the cross-dressing freak turned into disgust for her own diaper. Sonja just smiled awkwardly. She thought boys should be boys and girls should be girls. She'd thought Nicky was a girl- he looked and even sounded like a girl. A very pretty girl. Prettier than her own daughter. A boy, pretty in a girly way…the wrongness of it made her head spin. So she just stood there and smiled. "You're one of those tranny freaks who are too stupid to know what they are. Guys have dicks and chicks have these." Reila motioned at her breasts. Not large at all, even without the thick sweater minimizing the small twin swells on her chest; just enough to know they were there. The smile fell from Nicky's pretty, effeminate face. "I know I'm a boy. But I still like pretty things. I just…want to be myself. I'm not hurting anyone." He said softly, looking right at Reila as he spoke. "Nicky's fine." Hans cut it. "I still smell pee. It's not Nicky's diaper. So it must be your diaper, little girl." He spoke loudly. Loud enough to catch the attention of passersby. He looked right at Reila's puffy, visibly diapered crotch, causing onlookers to look, too. Reila's face blazed cherry red and she suddenly tugged harder on her long sweater, desperately trying to hide the bulge of her soggy protection. Sonja folded in on herself, the long flight and drama taking it's toll on her. All she wanted was to quietly get to Great Grandma Uschi's without further incidents. "Reila, please. Maybe you should go potty…but I don't have any more pull-ups." "WHAT? WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING LUGGAGE?" Reila roared. Sonja winced. "Reila. Lower it. You were almost out of pullups, and I was busy packing. I didn't get time to get more from the store before we had to leave. But I phoned great grandma; she said she'd pick some up for you." "I'M STUCK IN THIS FUCKING WET DIAPER?" Reila thundered, rage pounding in her ears. Anger and indignation swept her up; she did not care who heard, who was listening. She forgot they were in a train station, surrounded by strangers. All she saw was her mother through a hazy film of blood red. No more pull ups at all. Nothing to change into. Stuck in an itchy, wet diaper. Hans stepped close to Reila, towering over her. He moved so fast, so quick and silent she didn't notice until he was suddenly lumbering over her with a stern look on his face. She jumped, spurting a little more into her diaper. "EEP!" She took a deep breath, readying to launch into a verbal tirade once she recovered herself. Before she could, Hans thrust a finger mere centimeters from her nose. "Nice little girls do not swear. You're upset because of wet diaper. This I understand. That is *not* how a good girl acts. Little girl should learn before it is too late." Reila backed up, glowering at Hans. She hated the stupid bastard. Now he was trying to parent her? Just like Emma Jean had. He needed to get his nosy nose out of her business. And he had nerve, especially after he was late getting here. "Reila can have one of my diapers." Nicky piped up, shivering a little at Han's strict tone. That was his "you're close to a bare-bottom spanking" tone. But Reila was not his child, and he was not watching her. Hans turned, smiling at Nicky. He backed off of Reila with one last warning look; he came over to Nicky's wheelchair, patting Nicky on the head. "Now, that is a good boy. Nice children share." He fished in the blue and white striped diaper bag hanging off the back of Nicky's wheelchair. He pulled out one of Nicky's diapers. He held it up in the air, so people passing by could easily see it. Nicky blushed, tugging his own sweater down while Reila stared, face paling and eyes widening in horror. People stared at the thick diaper, then at Reila's obvious diaper bulge, putting two together. It was even thicker than the horrible, sodden monstrosity currently strapped to Reila. How could anyone even walk in that? Not that Nicky needed to worry about that, she thought with a glance at Nicky's festively decorated wheelchair. She snorted. The diaper Hans held up high in the air was red and white striped just like a candy cane. A fucking Christmas diaper. She stared for several horrible heart beats before she realized that obnoxious, festive monstrosity of a heavy duty diaper was the only change she had. "Oh, hell no." Reila stared in horror at the cheerful Christmas diaper. She backed up; the back of her legs bumped into her and Sonja's luggage. Luggage. More pull-ups! She whirled, right there on the train station floor, flung open Sonja's battered suitcase and tore through it. "Where the fuck are my pull-ups?" She flung neatly folded but faded clothing. Sonja immediately knelt, gathering up the balled up garments. "Reila, stop it! Enough! I already told you, there are no pull-ups. STOP IT!" She hollered, voice cracking in tired frustration. Hans looked at Sonja, her tired and worn expression; she was more battered than her suitcase. Sonja felt his stare; she looked back at him and gave a helpless little shrug, as if her daughter were beyond her ability to control. Hans shook his head. "I wish cousin Emma was here. She's very good with kids." He squatted down, thrusting the candy-cane striped plastic diaper right in Reila's face. "What the hell?" She smacked the wretched diaper; Han's huge fingers held it firmly, preventing it from flying into the passing, staring crowd. His other hand shot out and firmly grabbed her wrist; Reila jerked, trying to free herself. Han's grip tightened around her stick-thin wrist; his huge hand was ready to crush it. He pushed the diaper back into her face. "Little girl, knock it off. Now. You only have wet diaper, or this diaper. You pick. " He growled. "LET ME GO, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" Reila tried to pull free, jerking her torso backwards. Hans let her go; she fell flat on her back on the train station floor. People stopped walking to stare at the spectacle. A spurt of pee trickled into her soaked diaper. Her legs were splayed, sweater up; the huge bulge of her diaper was on display. Hans shrugged his broad shoulders and looked at Sonja, who had gathered up all the clothing Reila had thrown. "She's even worse than Emma's Rachel was." Sonja forced a brittle, apologetic smile. "Reila! You're-you're-" She stuttered, feeling the judgemental weight of all the gazes on her. She spun, slipping a little on the tiled floor. She froze, wide-eyed, heart speeding up. She didn't know what to do . She didn't want to deal with this. She wished Emma Jean were here. Emma Jean and her autistic daughter……Emma had thought Reila was autistic, too….. "MY DAUGHTER'S AUTISTIC! NOTHING TO SEE HERE!" She hollered in German, eyes wide. The staring crowd looked from her to Reila to the diaper in Hans' hand. They backed away nervously, thinking the mother was as unhinged as the daughter. Sonja breathed heavily, body stiff. Calm. Emma Jean said she needed to be calm. Patience. She closed her eyes, breathed in, breathed out, slowed her pounding heart. Most people moved on, glancing back over their shoulder at the spectacle. "This is just the face of extreme autism. Nothing to see here." She insisted calmly to the lingering onlookers. She stared them down, doing her best to channel calm, unflappable Emma Jean. Believe in herself. Reila obviously had problems, and she needed her mommy. Sonja held her breath, refusing to give into her instincts and look away. The rest of the crowd continued on their way, still shooting curious glances. Sonja turned to Reila and crouched down besides Hans. "Thank you for trying to help. I'll take it from here." She gave him a little, confident smile, then turned to her daughter. "Reila, sweetie. Your diapee is full of pee-pees. You need a clean diapee. Come on, let mommy change you. " Reila scooted backwards, away from Hans' huge frame. Her soggy diaper squished and crinkled under her as she moved. She wanted to take that horrid diaper and smack him across the face with it. She glared at him, then at her mother. "W-what? I want my fucking pull-ups, you bitch!" Sonja winced, torn between either hollering or just ignoring Reila. No, she needed to stand firm…. She closed her eyes, mentally praying for strength. "Riley. People are staring. So are the clerks behind the counter there. I'll….I'll go tell them my autistic daughter won't let me change her diapee. She's…throwing a fit, trying to take her diapee off. An ambulance needs to be called; she needs a psychiatric doctor." Reila's eyes widened as she stared at her mother in disbelief. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She sounded just like that deranged pink velour nightmare! "Y-you wouldn't!" Surely Sonja was bluffing. "I don't want to. But you need it. You….you can't stay in that pee-pee diapee. You'll…..you'll get a…a diapee rash. Yes. Mommy needs to change her baby's diapee." Sonja said, wavering in her resolve but still ploughing on. Reila's lips twisted in a mocking sneer. "You wouldn't dare! You don't have the money, anyway!" Hans stared at Sonja with a newfound admiration. Sonja somehow reminded him of his cousin, Emma Jean. The exchange between mother and daughter was in English, and he had some problem keeping up, but he'd gotten the gist of the argument. "I'll help with the bill. Uschi would cover any medical bills her great great granddaughter has, I'm sure. I…can give her a call." He offered, staring down at Reila. Her defiance crumpled. "I want my pull-ups." "I know baby. But your pull-ups can't hold your pee-pees. You need a diapee. It's just for now. Mommy will try to get you some pull-ups later. But right now, you need a new diapee. Then we can get to great grandma's." Sonja cooed, growing more sure of herself as she spoke. She felt more confident the more she committed herself to a course of action. Emma Jean was right; she could do this. A step at a time. Firm. Patient. Don't waver. "It's not so bad. They're very comfortable diapers." Nicky finally spoke up quietly. He held two pieces of clothing on his lap; ones that had fallen near his wheelchair. He'd been able to bend over and pluck them off the floor. Then he'd folded them and sat them in his lap. "Maybe little girl likes her wet diaper?" Hans offered. "My cousin's daughter likes to stay in her poopy diapers." Reila's face flushed red. "I don't like staying in this pissy diaper!" She snapped, loud enough to snag the attention of more passers by. "Then quit fighting Mommy. Let me put you in a clean diapee." Sonja cooed sweetly. She took the diaper from Hans with a small smile. "Nicky is so nice to share his diapees with you! Now, come on. Let's get you into a clean diapee. Or the doctor. You pick." She stood up, walking over to Reila and held her hand out. Reila realized she had no choice. She'd never seen this side of her mother before. Sonja usually crumpled under her relentless tirades. She was…just like that horrid woman. Had that bitch infected her mother with her craziness? "Reila? Come on, sweetie." Sonja held her hand in front of her daughter's face. Reila stared in growing horror. "N-no. I…I don't need a new diaper." One change in the airplane had been bad enough. "I can do it myself!" Sonja hesitated. She really didn't know how to diaper her grown daughter. The situation seemed solved; Reila had given in. Relief washed over her, followed by travel induced exhaustion. "You'll put your diapee on without any more problems?" She raised an eyebrow, not ready to trust Reila yet….and also not wanting to diaper her daughter. "Yes, I'll change! I'll change! Just stop the bullshit already!" Reila blurted out, latching onto her mother's momentary hesitation. She lurched forward, getting awkwardly to her feet with the huge, soggy bulge pushing her thighs apart. Her diaper crinkled noisily as she moved around. Sonja watched her get up, still wary and ready for her daughter to go off on another tantrum. Reila snatched the festive monstrosity from her hand and shoved it up under her tunic in a futile attempt to hide it. "Where's the damn bathroom?" Reila turned, looking through the crowd but everything was in German. She had no fucking clue. Sonja just pointed to a door partially hidden by a large potted plant. Reila squinted, bending a little. The soaked diaper rubbed over her privates. The door had the word "Damen" on it; under that, hidden by a large shiny green leaf, was the universal picture for women's toilet. Reila hadn't seen it from her previous position because of the leaf. "Whatever." Reila muttered under her breath, stomping off to the bathroom with her arms crossed, holding onto the diaper hidden under her sweater. Sonja replaced the clothes in her suitcase, thanking Nicky for his help, as she cleaned up her daughter's mess. "She knows how to put her own diapers on?" Hans asked dubiously as he watched Reila waddle off. Her heavily padded posterior swayed with her awkward waddle. "It'll be fine. I think." Sonja waffled with a tired sigh. "Perhaps you should check her diaper's on right? So it doesn't leak in my truck?" Sonja's shoulders slumped; she didn't have enough energy for a second battle. She'd gotten lucky with just getting Reila to stop fighting willingly put the diaper on. Hans stared at her then just shook his head. "She can sit on one of Nicky's underpads." Bundled up in her thin but trendy coat, Reila slumped in the backseat of Hans' truck. The world outside the window was awash in white as heavy snow fell, so she couldn't stare out at the passing landscape. It was just lumps under a thick blanket of white. Not that she had any clue where they were. In the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, Germany. "How much longer?" She groaned to herself. Her legs splayed on the seat, forced apart by the ridiculous diaper. The thick diaper lifted her bottom off the seat; she felt like she was sitting on a pillow. It was much higher than the soggy one she had on before, too; her ugly pink sweatpants could not cover it. They were stretched tight; she'd barely been able to pull them up over the ridiculous bulge, and the diaper came all the way up nearly to her chest. It crinkled even louder than her last one, too. She wished she'd stayed in the wet diaper; at least that one was smaller, even if it was squishy, itchy, and uncomfortable. "We're passing MittenWald now." Nicky spoke up softly. He sat up higher than her, firmly strapped into a special needs carseat. It was clearly a contraption for a pants-shitting tard instead of an overgrown baby. A five point restraint harness strapped him into the thickly padded, large carseat. "Mitten World? The fuck is that?" Reila turned her head to sneer at him. she would fit right into that huge carseat; she shuddered at the thought. "No, Mit-ten-vald." Nicky enunciated the word slowly in German, as if he was teaching a little toddler how to say a word. "You're the tard, not me. So stop talking like I'm stupid." Reila narrowed her eyes, her cheeks glowing red. Just because she needed diapers didn't make her anything like Nicky. She could walk and she didn't need a babysitter, she didn't need anyone to help with her diapers either. Never mind her mother had to tape her diaper on the plane. The pink velour nightmare made her do it. Reila could put her own diapers on. In fact, she didn't need diapers. She just needed pull-ups. She wouldn't have flooded her pull-up on the plane if her mother hadn't been such a bitch about being polite to the fat slob blocking the aisle. Nicky's cheeks colored and he lowered his eyes. "I didn't mean you're stupid. I was just trying to show you how to say it." He shifted a little in his carseat, diaper crinkling noisily in the truck. The harness and padding held him tight; he could not move much. His sparkly red sweater was pushed up, leaving his white tights to display the gigantic bulge of his diaper, and the festive candy cane print showed through the white cotton. The harness buckle pressed the thick padding of his diaper tight against him. He was used to it, but he wished he had Reila's freedom of movement. She was still a big girl, for now. Rachel had been a big girl, too, and she had never made fun of him for his diapers or his disability. Or that he dressed girly. Now Rachel needed strollers and carseats; she was a baby just like him. He wondered if Reila was going to end up a baby, too. "I don't need a gimpy tard who can't even change his own diaper to teach me anything." Reila spat. She shifted her weight, changing position and tugging on her seat belt. Her diaper crinkled as loud and noisy as Nicky's. She tugged on her sweater, trying to hide her obvious diaper bulge and the noises the gigantic, festive diaper made. She was humiliated, tired, and Nicky was the most convenient whipping post. Lashing out at him made her feel less frustrated. "You should see the town in summer. It's very pretty. And old. It's famous for its violins." Nicky offered in a softer voice, looking out his own window, but all he could see was the white of falling snow. "Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes and looked out her own window, ignoring Nicky's peace offering. She was not home; that's all she cared about. She knew they were somewhere in the German Alps, heading to great-great Grandma Uschi's farm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Probably populated by in-bred locals incapable of speaking English. She wished she would've asked her mother about where they were going. She glanced up front; Hans was focused mainly on the snowy road and talking with Sonja, who occasionally giggled like a schoolgirl. Her mother would just get pissy if she interrupted now. She wished she asked about the great great grandmother they were visiting. Shouldn't the old bat be dead by now? Both Reila's grandmother and great grandmother were dead. She shifted again, diaper crinkling some more. She was bored; her phone battery had died on the train. She tried to listen in on Sonja and Hans, but they spoke in German. She could only catch a few words and phrases. She snuck a glance at Nicky, who still looked out the window. He sucked quietly on his thumb. Overgrown baby indeed. Up and down steep, windy roads and over bouncing, rocking, jarring uneven dirty and ice roads. Her bladder stayed under control though; she kept her diaper dry. Her stomach rolled; quite a few times she came close to blowing chunks. How the hell did Nicky look so relaxed. ****************** Uschi was a shrivelled, ancient prune with wispy white hair, a penchant for woolen shawls, and a bright blue cane. She was spry for a relic from the stone age, Reila thought. Hans took his good, sweet time saying goodbye to Sonja after carrying in their luggage. Nicky stayed out in the truck. Uschi's house had two stories; it was a mix of old and modern. Old-fashioned, thick cream walls with heavy support beams. Dark panelled wood on some of the walls. Doors between every room; that made the house feel smaller than it actually was. Warmth wafted out of the kitchen along with the smell of a delicious, hearty home-cooked meal. Uschi showed them to their bedrooms where they put all their luggage. Uschi said they could unpack later; supper was ready and surely they were hungry. Sonja immediately agreed with her. Reila would have argued, but she was more hungry than tired at that point. Reila did try to argue; she wanted to go to the bathroom and rip off her diaper, but Sonja had to translate for Reila, and Uschi quickly herded them along to the kitchen.

?

After the cold outside, the kitchen felt almost warm. Magda stood just inside the big door on an old rag rug, shivering and reeking of pee. Gertrude wrapped Josef’s huge coat- warm from her body head- around Magda’s shoulders. Under all those layers of dirty rags, Gertrude could feel her sharp shoulder bones. This time, Magda didn’t protest. Gertrude fired up the old wooden stove in the corner. The family had a new gas stove, but they still used the old wood stove for heat. Magda’s eyes were huge as she looked around the room she once knew well. She huddled by the coat rack, as if waiting for Nazi soldiers to rush out and arrest her. She looked so small and terrified. It was the same haunted look Heidi had had on her face when Gertrude had left her for the last time. Gertrude’s heart twisted. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you some clean clothes. Hide in here if you hear anyone.” She motioned to a pantry door just past the long line of family coats. The pantry was supposed to store canned goods and other foods, but it was mostly full of old junk. Generations of pack rats ran in her family. Magda nodded, shuffling closer to the pantry door. Gertrude left and took the lantern with her; Magda was left in darkness, with only the moonlight coming in the window to see by. The crackling fire in the wood stove filled the kitchen with waves of warmth. Upstairs, Gertrude took off her wet diaper. After the soggy warmth of the thick, wet cloth, her privates were extra sensitive to the cold draft in the bedroom. For a moment, she was tempted to put a dry one on. She moved more freely without the bulky diaper. It made her appreciate being potty trained. She put on a pair of dirty panties; she had no time to clean up her pee-damp privates. Helping Magda was her priority. Out in the barn, that had been very clear. Here in the house, so close to her slumbering kin, she wasn’t so confident. Was this really the right thing to do? It’d be so easy to go wake Josef, her father or one of her uncles. Let them handle this. Betray Magda like she did Heidi. Well, she hadn’t actually betrayed her, but leaving her behind at the sanatorium felt like a betrayal. Gertrude returned to the kitchen with her old Bund Deutscher Madel, or League of German Girls, camping knapsack stuffed with Heidi’s winter clothes, diapers, and rubber panties. She held a fresh change of clothes, some towels, and a bar of lye soap. She set everything down on the kitchen table. “I’m back.” She whispered to the empty room. Magda was nowhere in sight.

"Fine! Fix the fucking diaper." Reila hissed venomously, barely restraining herself from shouting. She grabbed the sides of the doorway, raising her arms up. The sweater rose up as well, exposing more of the huge, brilliantly white and super noisy diaper. The bulk of it already forced her legs apart. Sonja bent, fingers shaking in her nervous hurry. Laundering wet sheets, scrubbing a wet mattress, washing wet clothes, she was used to. Bringing Reila a fresh change of clean clothes. Buying pull-ups. Never putting them on her. The last time she'd changed a diaper was when Reila had been small. She bit her lip, struggling to remember what to do. The nurses at the hospital had showed her, when Reila lay in an unconscious stupor on the hospital bed from her drunken overdose. She'd tried to pay attention, but her mind had been full of other worries. An expensive copay, all those papers from the police and the court, attorneys, trying to find another job…. "Here, honey, let me help you." Emma Jean piped up when Sonja fumbled with the diaper tabs, tugging gently. The misplaced tabs barely budged. Without waiting for a reply, she darted in. Her nimble fingers expertly ripped the tabs open, tugging, pulling and re positioning the diaper in seconds then replacing the tabs. She was done and standing back up before either Sonja or Reila fully processed what happened. "There we go, all done!" Emma Jean beamed. "I'm so used to changing a squirming Rachie's diapers. Riley held still like such a good girl!" She cooed proudly, praising Reila. Reila's eyes were screwed shut, her face beat red in humiliation as she mentally cursed her mother to hell and back. She winced and cringed at the loud ripping of the tabs, the tugging of her diaper. She assumed it was Sonja; opening her eyes, she saw her mother still partially crouched, eyes wide in shock. She still assumed Sonja had fixed her diaper. Upon realizing they were done embarrassing her, Reila yanked her sweater down to cover the bulge. She shifted, still crinkling just as loud. But the diaper felt tighter, more secure. More suffocating. She was trapped in padded hell. Her fingers squeezed the hem of her sweater as she fought off the urge to rip the diaper back off. "Thank…you…." Sonja muttered through shocked, numbed lips. "Anytime, honey! Now, Riley, would you like pants? Or no pants?" Emma Jean sweetly held out a plastic blue grocery bag to her. "Pants." She hissed venomous and low, voice brimming with suppressed hatred as she reached out to snatch the bag away. "No no. You don't just take. That's naughty. Say please, and I will give these to you." Emma Jean chided in a singsong voice like she was scolding a two year old. She yanked the blue grocery bag away just as Reila's fingertips brushed it. The bag swayed in her hand, plastic crinkling just like Reila's diaper. "Lady, just give me the damn pants." Reila growled, barely resisting the urge to shout, to reach out again and punch the crazy bitch and take the pants herself. The presence of the flight attendants and Emma Jean's repeated promises of authorities and hospitals caused her to check her temper. Emma Jean stared at her patiently but firmly not backing down. Ask nicely for the pants, or go diapered. Reila swallowed her anger, her stomach churning with a sour feeling. "Please." Reila growled again humiliation burning her face and ears a brilliant Christmas red. Emma Jean smiled. "Good girl." She cooed and held out the bag again. Reila's hand trembled as she snatched the offered back before Emma Jean could change her mind or pull another crazy stunt. She went to slam the door from some privacy, but Emma Jean stepped forward, a hand grabbing the door, forcing it to stay open. "Hey! I'm just putting my damn pants on! What's the big idea?" Reila snarled indignantly. "Riley sweetie, leave the door open. We need to make sure you don't get in any more trouble. We also need to make sure your diapee stays on." Emma Jean cooed with a smile. They were all going to watch her get dressed. Reila scowled, opening her mouth to argue. The flight attendants hoovered nervously behind Emma Jean, watching Reila like a hawk. One phone call to the captain. She'd been so focused on her own emotions, her diaper on display, on Emma Jean and her circus of bullshit, that she had barely paid attention to the flight attendants. She just wanted to ignore everyone, to get dressed in peace. She looked at her mother. Sonja just shrugged at Reila's imploring gaze. "Just put the pants on, Reila. Get it done and over with and we can go sit down." She said tiredly. Reila scowled. Her mother, Emma Jean and her obnoxious neon pink velour, the flight attendants, all had seen her diaper. Had seen her mother adjust her diaper. Putting on pants was minor compared to that. Her mother was right, for once. Emma Jean was not going to go away. Just put the pants on and then she could go sit down and get away from that psycho. "Whatever." Reila tore into the bag. At this point, she just wanted to cover up her diaper and hide in her seat. "Reila, that's rude. Tell Emma Jean thank you." Sonja scowled, but the tiredness and emotional exhaustion on her face sucked the fierceness out of the expression. "Pardon the interruption, dearie, but it's best to pick and choose your battles. Remember, special babies need lots of patience. One thing at a time. I must say, Rachie's diapee fits Riley perfectly. So I'm sure the pants will, too." Emma Jean gently smiled at Sonja like a patient teacher. "Are you sure about this? If you give me your address, I'll wash and mail the pants back to you." Sonja promised, feeling a bit weird about accepting clothes from a stranger she barely knew. Disposable, one time use diapers were one thing, but clothing? Emma Jean patted her hand. "I'm just following the Lord's teachings. You keep the clothes. They're old ones, anyway, and I have another spare set. My poor Rachie gets a lot of diaper blow outs, so I've learned to carry extra sets of changes. Back up clothes need back ups with all of Rachie's diaper blowouts." She giggled. The flight attendants looked disgusted with that statement and shot Reila wary looks, as if fearing her bowels having a diaper blow out, too. "A change of clothes is a good idea, especially after today. I can't even trust Reila to carry her own diapers. I'm really tired of her peeing everywhere. I can't thank you enough. May I ask where you get such absorbent diapers from? There's no way Reila could flood those." Reila paid no attention as the two women chatted while watching her dress. Humiliation burned her face and ears a brilliant scarlet. Events were starting to penetrate her layer of indignant rage that numbed her brain. It was a protective shield; she only focused on her anger and blocked out the full reality of the unpleasant events going on around her. It had served her well in the principal's office, getting processed in jail, in the courthouse. Now, she wanted to just get the hell out of there. She opened the bag, staring down at the pastel pink contents. Her upper lip curled in disgust at the babified color. Only little girls and blonde Barbie bimbos wore bubblegum pink. She shuddered in distaste as she lifted the pants out of the bag, which crinkled as loud as her diaper. Sweat pants. No babified snaps in the crotch or along the legs. Just regular, ugly pink sweatpants. She breathed a sigh of relief. Here she'd been expecting big baby clothes, and instead she was presented with normal pants. She was lucky, even if it was a hideous color and would clash with her pretty, stylish sweater. Between the pants and just a diaper, she'd take the ugly pants. She looked to her dry jeggings, taking a few crinkling, waddling steps to the sink edge and gave them an experimental sniff. She jerked back in disgust. They reeked of piss. These pants were all she had. Reila bit her lip to stifle a groan as she held the pants out and lifted one leg then the other, putting the pants on. Every little move caused the diaper to crinkle noisily and made her grit her teeth. She really wanted to rip it off, throw it in Emma Jean's face. Suffocate her with it. Reila smirked darkly at the satisfying mental image. "Are you sure it's okay if we keep the pants?" Sonja worriedly chewed her lip as Reila was strangely quiet and cooperatively getting dressed. No shouts, no threats, no tantrums. "Of course, dearie. They're old clothes, from before Rachie was diagnosed. She only wears special adaptive clothing now. Makes changing and dressing her so much easier on me. I only kept the pants as a backup change, otherwise they'd have gone to charity along with the rest of Rachie's old clothes. So, really, you're doing me a favor by taking them off my hands." That seemed to set Sonja at ease; Emma Jean smiled. Reila yanked the hated pink sweatpants up. The huge bulk of her diaper stretched the would-be-loose crotch out to its max. She grunted as she tugged, struggling to get the monstrous diaper fully covered. The elastic waistband of the pants squeezed her stomach and scrunched the bulky, soft padding against her genitals. It almost felt nice in a suffocating sort of way. She wrinkled her nose and waddled a few steps, crinkling all the way. She glowered at the uncomfortable sensation and pulled the pants down to just above her hips. The front diaper panel and tapes poked out. The pants were loose and a little long in the leg; Rachel apparently was taller than her. The diaper made the crotch balloon out in a huge, unmistakable bulge. Reila scowled, her displeasure simmering under the humiliation. She pulled her thick, warm, knitted teal sweater down but it did very little to hide the gargantuan diaper bulge.

Reila could not believe she'd pissed on a stranger. She was NEVER coming out of the bathroom. "I'm NOT wearing that damn diaper, either!" She shouted to the closed bathroom door. She had no doubt her mother stood just on the other side of it, waiting with a verbal tirade. Reila rolled her eyes at the mere thought, then huffed at the huge, thick white rectangle that sat on top of the closed toilet lid. Maybe she could flush it down? Her pee-soaked socks, pants, and boots sat on the sink edge, right under the running hand dryer. Hopefully once they dried, the materials would not smell too bad. That horrid diaper was her only option. She could go commando…but what if she peed again? She had no pants…but she could dry hers under the hand dryer. It would still smell like pee. But it was better than going naked, wasn't it? One round of humiliation was enough. She just needed to get a handle on the situation. Get her bearings and ground herself. Then she would get control of her wayward bladder. She wanted a pull-up, but the stupid bitch gave her pull-ups away to another pants pisser. Reila growled at the very thought. She had almost screamed at her mother until two more flight attendants had come over, causing her to storm into the bathroom and lock the door behind her. Not that her last pull-up had done any good. Maybe she was lucky to have the diaper? It looked thick enough to handle a flood or two…. "The fuck am I thinking?" Reila stomped her foot as if it squash her thoughts. But the diaper was the only smart choice…. She glared at the white, folded up rectangle for several long moments. The dryer quit running. She slammed her palm down on the metal button and it started loudly humming once more. "Reila, did you get your diaper on yet?" Sonja's voice called through the door. Reila glared at the door and refused to answer. She bit back the urge to kick the door, curse at Sonja. She angrily snatched up the diaper, flicking it open with a sharp snap of her wrist. It unfurled with a loud crinkle to reveal a luxuriously soft inside. She grimaced then spent another several agonizing minutes recalling how the nurse in the hospital after her alcohol and drug binge taught her how to change an incontinence brief just before she was discharged. Reila hadn't paid much attention at the time. She had not cared, and had been still in the throws of de-tox. "Reila?" A pause, then, when she still did not reply, "Reila. Answer me. Do you need help with your diaper?" She would not need help if Sonja had not given her pull-ups away. She spread the diaper out against the wall. "Reila, answer me now, damn it. Don't play these childish games. I need to know if you're diapers on properly so you don't pee everywhere again." "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Reila snarled in exasperation. Sonja pounded on the door. "Reila! Don't you dare talk back to me like that! I'm your mother! You're making a big scene and the pilot is ready to call an emergency landing!" She threatened. Reila was getting too wound up to care. "I need to concentrate. The stupid bitch nurse in the hospital showed me. So leave me alone. I don't need a damn diaper." "The man you peed all over, and the puddle the attendants had to clean up say otherwise." Sonja's tone was strained and clipped. Reila jerked her head away, biting her lip. She had no argument against that. Maybe she really did need a diaper? It was the only thing she had, anyway. "Whatever…" she muttered. Silence followed. Sonja didn't answer. Switching tactics; trying to make her feel guilty. Make her say something. But that always backfired. Reila liked her mother quiet- not lecturing her or harping. She turned her attention to the diaper, placing her butt against the padding up against the wall. The diaper fell down to the floor with a loud crinkle; her butt hit the cold wall. She cringed. "Fuck it!" This time she held the diaper by its unfolded tape tabs, pressing the back of the diaper against her butt. She moved it up and down. "Where the hell does this damn thing go, anyway?" The damn diaper was so big it was confusing what went where. Tapes went in the back; that much, she new for certain. She vaguely recalled the nurse mentioning something about absorbent padding on the butt. "Whatever." She gave up, squishing the diaper and her butt against the wall. The front of the padded monstrosity dangled down, almost touching the floor. At least the stupid diaper stayed in place this time. She kept her bottom firmly pressed to the wall, then bent from the waist, reaching down and yanked the diaper front up. She had to spread her legs to accommodate the thick, bulky crotch. The front came up too high on her stomach, much higher than the back. When the nurse had diapered her for discharge from the hospital, she'd said some shit about the back being higher. Or was it supposed to be even? Reila shrugged, tugging the back up so it was higher than the front by a few inches. Whatever, the fucking thing was on. Not like she was gonna piss in it. She tugged so the fat fucker was snug against her crotch. The thick padding forced her legs further apart. She slid down the wall, making the padding pull even more snug. She splayed one hand over the crinkly, slippery smooth plastic front to hold it in place. Her other hand tugged a sticky tape open. She yanked the wing tab around her hip, consequently making it snug as she attached it haphazardly to the front panel, then did the same with the second, lower tape. She switched hands and did the same on the other side, engulfing herself in the thick padding. She ran her hands over the smooth, slippery plastic, unable to feel her crotch and butt through the bulk. She shuddered. No way in hell was she going out like this. She was just going to stay in the fucking bathroom the rest of the flight. The dryer clicked off. Her jeggings were dry, and so were her socks. But her boots were still damp. She took an experimental step forward. The jumbo padded bulk of a crotch forced her legs into a cowboy waddle. The monstrosity was as noisy as it was thick. She rustled and crinkled like an army of angry plastic bags as she waddled the few steps over to the sink. She sniffed at her cloths then recoiled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Everything reeked like piss. "Fuck. I can't wear this shit. Fuck my life. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!" She slammed a fist down on the sink." "Reila!" A knock on the door. Reila cringed, her diaper crinkling. "Shut up! I've got the damn diaper on! Leave me the hell alone!" She shouted hoarsely, feeling the tension in her body snapping tight and strained as her mom's voice. She had nothing else to wear. Sonja had told her to pack extra clothes in her carry on. She'd ignored her. Her mother should have had extra clothes for her instead. That was her job, wasn't it? Fucking stupid cunt… Reila slammed her palm on the dryer, starting it up again. She tugged down the hem of her long sweater dress, which thankfully had miraculously survived the carnage of her bladder. She'd worn dresses and skirts shorter than the tunic…..maybe she could wear it as a short dress? There was no full length mirror in the bathroom; she turned and twisted and tugged on the sweater. It had easily hidden the slight bulge of her pull-up. It should hide the diaper, too. Right? She ran her hands over the thick padding and groaned. The sweater covered her ass, but there would be no hiding the bulge. The thick, knitted Aran wool could not hide the shape of her diaper, merely cover the white plastic from sight. It did nothing for the horrible noise. And she was stuck with pee-smelling boots and bare legs in the winter. "I'm screwed. Thanks, you stupid cunt." Reila cursed her mother under her breath. If only the bitch never gave away her pull-ups… Her eyes welled with frustrated, angry tears that she angrily wiped away. "Well, fancy meeting you here, honey! Such a small world! But the Lord knew what he was doing, putting both of us on the same flight. I couldn't help but overhear. Took me a while to get up here from coach, and I had to convince one of these dear attendants to watch my Rachel sweetie-pie, but now I'm here to help, Lord willing!" Reila froze in horror. Just when she thought things could not get any worse. She knew that high-pitched voice, could picture that tacky neon pink velour suit in her head. Rachel's mother. The one who gave her this horrible diaper in the first place! Indirectly, the reason she no longer had a pull-up. Sonja stared at the closed, locked bathroom door. She felt like she should barge in there and shove a bar of soap in Reila's mouth. But the parenting books she'd read said physical punishment did not correct a child's bad behavior, did not help them understand what they did was wrong nor teach them why it was wrong. All physical punishment did was teach a child that if they did that thing again, they would be in pain. Children needed patience and understanding. She was supposed to reason with her daughter. Eighteen years of reasoning and explaining and talking had not worked. So now what? Sonja sighed, tired and wanting another strong drink . She saw the woman before she heard her. Neon pink velour attracted her gaze like a glowing beacon, the color almost more attention grabbing than the screaming, diapered girl in the adult-sized stroller had been. "Huh? Oh, you're the lady with the stroller girl. You gave me a diaper for Reila." Her tone was bewildered and defeated all at once. "Emma Jean, sweetie. We didn't get to exchange names last time. Pleasure to meet you." Rachel's mother smiled. "W-what are you doing here?" "Visiting my husband's cousin. She lives in Munich. She's been having troubles with her little boy and his tantrums. Puberty seems to bring out the worst in them. All those hormones, you know. With him, it's real bad. Since I've worked wonders with my special Rachie- not that I like to brag, dearie. It's all God's work, I'm just the instrument- my in-laws wanted me to come and help the boy for a bit. Teach them the same techniques I used on Rachie. I just couldn't say no.They're family, and it is the season of giving. I'm here right now because I heard all the commotion and came to help." Emma Jean practically radiated calm and confidence. A neon pink sun to warm Sonja's wintery cold depression. Sonja forced a weak smile. "Thank you, but we're okay. I've got everything under control. It's fine." Emma Jean brusquely brushed aside Sonja's feeble protest with a sunny smile. "The spirit inside me insists. You look like an overstressed mother, ready to fall apart. My heart went out to you the moment I saw you in the airport. I was in your shoes once, when my poor Rachie was undiagnosed. She swore, she bit, she peed everywhere. She ripped her diapers off. She once took her diaper off at an amusement park. She'd been so fussy that day, so I gave her an emema and she exploded all over a carousel horse. I didn't know what to do. But the Lord provides and works miracles. A kind stranger gave me a hand up and taught me a few things. So, honey, what do you say? Let me give you a hand up?" Rachel waddled and crinkled to the door, listening with bated breath. What the hell was that psycho up to? Didn't she have to care for her overgrown baby? "Alright." Sonja agreed, sounding like she'd just been offered salvation. Let Reila be someone else's problem for a bit. There was a knock on the bathroom door. Reila scowled, stepping back awkwardly with a loud crinkle. "Riley, sweetie, please open the door. I've got some of Rachel's extra clothes you can wear." For one golden moment, hope shined. Reila was tempted at the mention of clothes. Clean clothes that did not smell like pee. Clothes that would hide her diaper. Rachel, the over grown baby. Big baby clothes. "It's Reila, not Riley. Fuck off, you nosy bitch." "Reila! Watch your mouth! That's disrespectful. Apologize immediately! Emma Jean, I'm so sorry." Sonja's voice was angry and strained, full of tension. Reila was all to used to it; she just rolled her eyes. "Shush, dearie. She can't help herself. You have to be a strong mommy and take control no matter how fussy they get. Stay calm, follow your path. No matter what, you must always follow through so they know who is in charge. Special needs babies need extra attention." Emma Jean cleared her throat and spoke softer yet firmer. "Riley-honey, you either open this door right now and let your mommy check your diapee, or this plane will make an emergency landing at the nearest hospital because some autistic girl kept taking her diapee off, peeing on people, and locked herself in the bathroom. Possibly drowning herself in the toilet or drinking the toilet water. An emergency stay in a psychiatric hospital would be mandatory. Do you really want that to happen?" Reila froze. Surely the bitch was not serious? She wouldn't dare. Sonja often threatened, but her mother did not have the balls to ever follow through. Hell, she'd never even spanked her. How could some strange woman dare to raise a hand against her? Wouldn't Sonja stop her? "Reila's not autistic." Sonja spoke up in a confused tone. "I used to think that about my Rachie, and now look at her! Of course, your Riley needs diagnosed by a doctor, but she's behaving almost as bad as my Rachie was. I know several excellent doctors, I'd be happy to give you their numbers. There's no shame, honey. Mommies have to do what is best for their babies." "You're insane! You wouldn't dare!" Reila called in horrified disbelief. "Okay, Riley-baby. Have it your way." Emma's voice rose. "Excuse me, miss? Flight attendant? There's an emergency with the autistic girl. The one who took her diaper off and peed all over that man? It seems she's locked herself in the bathroom-" Reila's blood ran cold. The hag really was going through with it. And trying to label her as a retard! Her mother wasn't any help, as usual. She was not mentally retarded, but who would authorities believe, the crazy pink velour lady, or the girl who'd peed all over another passenger? Panic twisted in her gut, and she reacted without thinking, in blind desperation. The door flung open. "NO! DON'T! STOP!" She hollered, voice echoing around the spacious cabin of the international flight. Sonja, Emma Jean, and two flight attendants stood, staring at the screaming teenage girl in just a teal sweater, legs splayed, and the huge white diaper peeking out from under her sweater. The flight attendants smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking to Emma Jean and Sonja, but focusing on the teenaged girl with her puffy diaper on display. Reila's face flushed; she dropped her gaze, yanking her sweater down, stretching the knit material out. No matter how she squirmed and tugged, the shape of the huge diaper remained on display, the bulky white crotch peeking out. Sonja stared, the depressed part of her wishing she could be surprised. But after an arrest for shoplifting, going down to bail Reila out, seeing her in handcuffs, watching her in court…..numerous occasions of wet pants, calls from the school….that huge diaper was almost a positive image. No way her daughter could leak in that. She found herself more in awe of Emma Jean. So calm, composed and steady, able to deal with anything Reila dished out and counter it. Emma Jean got the wayward girl to listen to her. What magic was this? Emma Jean beamed. "Good baby! Now, let your mommy check your diapee! Good girl putting your diapee on all by yourself! Just like a good, big girl! But it needs fixed a little. You don't want to go pee-pees on anyone else, do you?" "Fuck you!" Reila snarled, stamping one bare foot in humiliated anger. Her thick diaper crinkled audibly. Her head snapped up, blazing eyes locking with Emma Jean's in challenge. Sonja winced at the rage bubbling in her daughter's gaze. "Reila!" She scolded. Emma Jean laid a placating hand on Sonja's forearm. "She can't help herself. It's mental- they just don't have the self control of a neurotypical person. You really, really should consider getting her diagnosed, dearie." The flight attendants looked bewildered and frightened at the idea of an out of control, mentally ill passenger. They inched away at the hostility radiating off of Reila. "P-perhaps I should t-talk to the c-captain…" One hedged. "A moment, please, dearie? I know it's unnerving, but I deal with this everyday with my own daughter. She's severely autistic, you know. Special needs and mental illness can be very scary if you're not used to it." The flight attendant hesitated then nodded warily. Emma Jean beamed at her. Sonja tried pleading. She needed to diffuse this situation before they got kicked off the flight. She could not afford another ticket, let alone two, and more importantly, Great Grandmother Uschi would be displeased. "Reila. Please cooperate. You're making things much more difficult. This nice lady is even offering you a change of clothes." Perhaps pleading would succeed where sternness failed. "Maybe she doesn't want to wear pants?" Emma Jean looked at Reila thoughtfully. She tapped one polished nail off her chin. "My Rachie loves to crawl around in just her diapees. Or maybe she's constipated. Rachie gets super cranky when she's all backed up. Sonja dear, when's the last time little Riley made poopies?" "W-what?" Sonja's eyebrows rose at the unexpected question. Emma Jean was a very strange woman; she talked down to Reila like she was a child. Or mentally ill. Could that be? Maybe…Reila did have problems? But then, wouldn't a school counselor or psychiatrist have caught it by now if she was? This whole situation was absurd, and Sonja just did not know how to get this circus under control. She really was not cut out to be a mother….maybe there was something to Emma Jean's method. She seemed to be handling Reila much better than Sonja. "A bowel movement, dearie. When's the last time Riley pooped?" Emma Jean clarified. "Um….back at the airport? She told me she did…but that was when she took her diaper off." Sonja shot an accusing look at her grown child. It was too much for Reila. Emma Jean's deranged threats had cowed and scared her. Now her temper reared its ugly head at the mention of her bowel movements in front of strangers. People just needed to mind their own business, and leave her the hell alone. She was not the one causing problems, they were. "PULL-UPS! THEY'RE PULL-UPS AND I'M NOT RETARDED!" The flight attendants flinched at her thundering, looking ready to bolt and call an emergency landing. "Of course not, sweetie. That's such a nasty word. You're a very special little girl, just like my Rachie. Now, sweetie, you need to calm down. Just let mommy check your diaper and you can go sit quietly in your seat. Or you can go to the hospital and let the doctors calm you down with some nice medicines. " Emma Jean looked at the attendants, who appeared even more nervous. "Riley, everyone's very worried. Maybe you do need a doctor." "NO!" Reila blurted, panicking once more. This situation just kept getting worse with each passing moment. She'd stop fighting if people just stopped humiliating her. "Riley, this is your last chance. You will be a good girl? Let your mommy fix your diapee? Then you can go sit down and we can forget all about this little incident." Emma Jean cooed. "No." Reila's anger died from a defiant boil to a steaming simmer. She growled deep in her throat, still defiant but terrified of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Getting arrested had been scary enough. As a criminal, she'd still had rights, had still been thought sound of mind. Who would listen to her if they believed she was crazy, out of her mind? No one. "No, what? No doctor? No, you will not be a good girl?" Emma Jean's voice took on a sterner yet still syrupy tone. "Reila, please. Everyone can see your diaper. Just…just let me …fix…it and you can get dressed and it will all be over." Sonja pleaded again. "Maybe I really should call the captain, she's not calming down. We have the safety of the other passengers to think about…" One of the flight attendants piped up.

Horror spread through Priscilla's numb body. Max, her ex-boyfriend, was coming over. How? Why? For what? She growled around the rubber filling her mouth. Liliana. Oh, what had that bitch done? Max had only visited her in the hospital once, right after the accident. She had been in the ICU, hooked up to tubes upon tubes. She'd even had a catheter in plain view. He had stared, eyes wide, for several painful, stretched out seconds, before abruptly turning and leaving the way he'd come. He didn't even give her the flowers he'd brought. Liliana set to work in silence, smirking at the anxiety and drool and Prissy's face. She took some wipes from the plastic tub, ignoring the wipe warmer. Prissy whined into her mouth guard at the cold, wet touch. Lili wiped her privates down then rolled her as much as the restraints would allow to remove the pee soaked underpad. She kept her touch gentle so she didn't leave any bruises on Prissy's skin. She unfolded the huge clown diaper with one hand, shaking it out then slid it under Prissy's bottom. Prissy could feel Lili manipulating her body. She tried to kick Lili in the head, grunting into her gag. "Are you trying to fart on me? Or are you constipated? You sound like a damn rutting sow. Thoughts of Maxie got you all horny, yeah? Like he'd really wanna touch your piss-soaked pussy, Pissy-pie." Lili laughed as she swiftly inserted two bullet shaped, white, greasy globs of glycerin into Prissy's back end. She'd snuck the suppositories out the same time she'd gotten Prissy's diaper She worked her greased finger around, shoving them deep inside Prissy's ass. Prissy groaned helplessly in indignation. She knew what Lili had done to her. Fucking bitch was going to force her to shit herself. In front of Max? Her breath caught in her chest and her heart stopped at the thought. She groaned frantically, shaking her head. Lili laughed and slapped one bare cheek before dropping Prissy on her back, right on top of the diaper. It felt like she landed on a pillow. "You're gonna show Maxie how a big baby uses her diapees!" Lili dumped a ton of heavily scented baby powder on Prissy's crotch. Powder went everywhere, even on the bed. Lili ignored it; she brought the thick diaper up between her legs and sealed it shut. She tugged to make sure the diaper tabs were nice and tight. Prissy screamed into her bite guard, drool running down her chin. Her legs finally, finally kicked. The big baby diaper crinkled noisily, so much louder than her thin medical briefs. Oh, how she wanted those briefs back! Her face grew red in anger and she peed a little more. Her bottom already started to feel funny. Those suppositories were going to cause a massive bowel movement sometime soon. Lili stood back, admiring her handiwork. "Cameron is a lot cuter in his diapees than you are. He's a lot sweeter, too. " Prissy froze. Cameron? Who the hell was that? The name rang a bell… Lili read her face and laughed mockingly. "Cameron? You taunted and tormented that poor boy right back into the retard regression room, and you don't even know his name? That's rich. Freddy Kreugar sound more familiar?" Prissy moaned and rolled her eyes, thoroughly bewildered. What did that burned freak have to do with any of this? Just what was her psycho cousin planning, anyway? How did she know all this shit?" "Yeah, I know about him. I met the big baby. I might even be his new babysitter. I'm still working on that. Wouldn't a play date between you be fun? Your friends told me quite a bit. Your diary told me more." Her cheshire cat smile stretched, waiting for the latest bit of information to sink in. Priscilla's scream was muffled from the rubber bite guard filling her mouth. Her limbs jerked erratically, diaper crinkling loudly. She'd kill the fucking bitch! Her diary! The nerve! She felt even more violated than having her diaper changed. Liliana watched, head tilted to one side, still smiling her Cheshire cat smile. "Don't be so pissy, Pissy. You shouldn't have left it laying out in the open. Unlocked, for anyone to read." The diary had been in Priscilla's underwear drawer, and the flimsy, little metal lock had been cut with metal cutting shears. Doubt washed over Prissy's face and she paused in her screaming, though one of her legs still twitched uncontrollably. Drool ran down her chin, onto her nightgown and pillow. Had she really left her diary out? She'd done that maybe once or twice since she'd started keeping one at twelve years old….. The last time she'd written in it was the day before her accident. So long ago, and so much had happened since….maybe…maybe she'd left it out? She stared at that cruel grin. Or maybe Lili was just fucking with her? She didn't know, and she could not read Lili's face. She screamed into her bite guard once more. Lili leaned over, fluffing Prissy's pillow up. Mouth close to her ear, she whispered, "I found your FaceBooger pass in it. Smart of you to write down all your passwords. Thank you. Made shit much easier for me. No one's stopped me from going through your old shit. Not like you can use it anymore. No one cares. Grandma Jill doesn't give a shit. Maybe we'll donate some of your crap to charity. " Plump lips pressed against her cheek in a soft kiss. Priscilla moaned in distress. Her clothes! Designer fashions, some imported straight from Parisian fashion houses! Tears burned her eyes. Sure, she could not wear them anymore, but they were *her* things. How could grandmother do this to her? But Grandma Jill never visited anymore…..the only people Prissy ever saw was her home care workers. Grandpa Jack hadn't been in to see her once. Sometimes Priscilla thought she'd be better off dead. Liliana wandered over to Prissy's desk. Gone were Prissy's belongings, set aside in a box. Replaced by files, folders, and a little ivory holder full of pencils. A work station for the nurses. Lili rummaged leisurely through the folders. Prissy's thoughts stewed. Her stomach rumbled as the suppositories began to melt, irritating the lining of her colon. She peed some more. "Ah, here it is. I made a few adjustments to your care notes." Lili opened a folder, even though Prissy's head did not turn to look at her. She sauntered over and waved it in Prissy's face, forcing her to look. "Just some new instructions regarding your diapers. You know, it's funny- the only thing Grandpa Jack says I got from Jill is my handwriting." She chuckled in amusement. Lilian's handwriting was a near match for Jill's- they both had the same elegant, looping scrawl. Even Jack frequently got them confused. A handwriting expert could tell them apart, but to the average Joe Schmoe the writing was so similiar it could easily be mistaken for the other's. Prissy wanted to thrash, to punch Liliana in her smug face, but her body did not respond. She just drooled and peed some more. She was constantly hyper aware and distracted by the horrid diaper strapped to her, forcing her legs apart. Bright clowns and balloons smiling happily up at the world. This diaper labeled her as a baby- something she had been struggling NOT to identify with. The huge bulk swallowed her stomach and lifted her bottom off the mattress, making her feel like she was laying on an incline. Screw you! Prissy shouted in her head. She knew Liliana planned on keeping her in those awful diapers. Diapers, diapers diapers. Not thin, adult incontinence briefs. Big baby diapers. Lili turned her into a big baby. Like Cameron. She cringed, old memories coming up to haunt her. She'd told Cameron many times he was just a big, stupid baby. Priscilla had tormented the burned boy. She knew she had, and she knew what she was doing was cruel. But it won her points with her peers and gave her pleasure to see how they all followed her lead. Teasing Cameron had merely been the tool to accomplish her means. Plus, those burns were disgusting and the skin did look like Freddy Kreugar's face. Cameron's own face was not burned- but he was so soft and girly looking. Prissy was more jealous of his looks than she was attracted to him. It had been so easy to make him the butt of her jokes, but her favorite was when she had taped a diaper to his locker. A freaky looking pants-shitter was all Cameron was in her world; lowest on the social ladder rung. Easy pickings. Fodder for those at the top of the food chain. And now, here she was, tied down and in a diaper herself. She felt the front of her diaper grow warm as she peed yet again. The thirsty material wicked the moisture away and she blinked in surprise. The briefs she was used to held the urine against her, making her feel wet and gross and wanting changed immediately. But this; it was as if she had not wet at all. She squirmed, feeling the powder shift around in her padded prison. Her diaper crinkled with every little movement, seeming so loud it echoed in the room to her ears. Her feet wriggled uselessly, flopping as she tried to kick . She frowned and tried to pull her arms but they did not even move. She whined, more drool running down her mouth. Lili put the notes away, checked the time on the wall clock. She came back to Prissy, tugging her dress down just a little. "We want Maxie to see how adorable your new diapees are!" She cooed. The gown only covered her boobs; Lili left the thick diaper on prominent display. Her lip curled at the drool soaked, lacey collar of the velcro closure nightgown. She reached down, plucking something from off the floor. "I got one more present for you. A big big cuz the ickle baby sure wubs to dwool!" Lili cooed in mock-baby talk. She fastened a velcro closure, huge pink cloth bib around Prissy's neck. She lifted her head to fasten it, then let Prissy's head drop back onto her pillow. The terrycloth bib was huge and covered her front down to the top of her exposed diaper. It was plastic backed and had a big, sparkly tiara on the front. "There, all ready for Maxie!" Lili clapped her hands in a high-pitched, mocking mother's coo. Then she poked two fingers right into the middle of Prissy's diaper covered crotch. The plastic shell of the diaper crinkled. Her palm cupped the warm crotch, squeezing the thick padding. Prissy could barely feel it. "Just a few drops in a very large bucket. You'll be good for a long time yet. You can piss away with no fear of leaks. You're welcome for that." Lili smiled sweetly then released Prissy from the safety restraints. Priscilla growled, drooling around the rubber filling her mouth. She hated that horrid bite guard, almost as much as she hated her big baby diapers. Most of all, she hated Lili. One small spurt of pee trickled out of her; the thirsty material wicked it away. One leg involuntarily twitched. "My turn to get all preppied up. Don't wanna scare ickle Maxie-pad. That's your job." Liliana chirped cheerfully, practically skipping to Priscilla's closet. She threw open the door then cringed at what was inside. "Holy shit. You wore that crap?" Lili sneered at the clothes, taking a step back. The walk-in closet was a bounty of expensive, fashionable clothes. The closet was lined with fragrant, glossy cedar wood and was the size of a small effeciency apartment. It was like a small boutique. Racks ran along all 3 walls, filled to overflowing with high end labels worn by celebrities. Designer label jeans, skirts, t-shirts, blouses, sweaters, dresses, gowns, jackets, coats, cardigans. Several real-fur coats with matching hats and fur-trimmed gloves. Shelves of shoes, shoes, and more shoes lined the bottom; high heels, sandals, wedges, boots, flats. The shelves above held a few dusty, old photo albums, winter gear- hats, knit hats with pom poms, fur hats, gloves, cashmere scarves in a wide array of colors. Woolen Aran sweaters from Ireland. Lili crinkled her nose in disgust as she stepped into the closet and fingered one of the soft sleeves of a fur coat. "Mink. Nice. Always a bleeding heart for the animals, yeah?" Sarcasm dripped from her tongue like acid. That was one of the many things Jill and Jack never agreed on. Jack forbade real fur from his house; he donated big money to organizations and politicians campagning against it. Jill bought it anyway. "I don't understand how any of this trash is in style." Lili sneered as she rummaged through the clothes, metal hangers scraping over the metal rack. Her voice floated out to Prissy. "Some of this shit still has the price tags on it. Such a shame you'll never get to wear them. Maybe they'll fit your nurses, or their daughters. This one looks familiar…oh yeah, your last FaceBook post. You were gonna wear this for your date with Maxie-pad." Prissy tried her best to block out Lili's voice. Her clothes. Lili wanted to get rid of her things. The last shreds from her old life. Being in her old room, surrounded by her old things- ribbons and trophies from beauty pageants and cheerleading contests, frames filled with photos of her, her friends, and a few of Grandma Jill. Her CD collection, her videogames, her posters. All of it comforted her with the false hope of full recovery. She'd get her old body back under her control. It would all be hers again. She just needed some time and therapy. Unless Lili stripped it all from her first. "This might me a little tight across the bust, but it should fit. Think Maxie-pad will like it?" Lili chirped as she pranced out of the closet and laid a pale rose mini-dress across the bed, across Prissy's lap, making sure she got a good view of it. Prissy growled, drool trickling down her chin and onto her pretty pink bib. She bit down on the rubber filling her mouth, pretending she was sinking her teeth into Lili's flesh. The bitch! That's my dress! MINE! She snarled in her head, but the words only came out as garbled, spittle-laden growls. "You're right. He's going to like your outfit much better!" Lili crooned. She pulled off her black sweater-dress embroidered with little white skulls, black jeggings with artfully placed rips on the sides, held together with criss-crossed safety pins, and black skull socks until she was standing in front of Prissy's bed in just a lacey black bra and panties trimmed in white lace. Lili threw her clothes onto a nearby, plush pink and purple tye-dye bean bag chair and started to put on Prissy's dress. Lili's body was sleek, toned, and moved with an innate grace she took completely for granted. How Prissy had always loathed her. She stared as Lili undressed, wishing with all her might their positions were reversed. Take those tiny skull panties away and put the bratty bitch in a super thick, jumbo sized diaper. Prissy's eyes zeroed in on the huge scars mutilating Lili's torso. Great gouging chunks of flesh had been ripped away, leaving angry red, pink and white puckered ridges. Lili felt Prissy's hate-filled gaze upon her, staring right at her scar. She smirked. "See this?" She ran her fingers over the scar, caressing it, poking at the missing chunks of flesh. "Had a little incident with a tiger back home. Guess my skin's just as fucked up as Cameron's, yeah? I can kinda understand his pain. I get it. If you were still normal, you would've laughed at me, yeah?" She spoke casually, like her ordeal was no big deal. Prissy remembered the media storm and gossipping frenzy years ago, when she was still a child, about the magician who'd been attacked by one of his white tigers. Grandma Jill, wife of a man who owned a tiger conservation, delightfully found herself the center of the town's social attention. Prissy didn't remember much, just parade after parade of high society ladies calling for afternoon tea, gossip, and Jill's expert opinion on the tragedy. The magician had lived. Unfortunately, Liliana had lived from her attack as well. Tears burned Prissy's eyes as her soul raged at the injustice of the universe. One little slip from the human pyramid, one little tumble, morphed her into a sentient vegetable. An adult newborn. Liliana got attacked by a deadly beast and she walked away with just a scar. Too cruel. Snot ran out of her nose as she tried to sniffle. "Aww. What's going on in that ickle head of yours, baby?" Lili cooed as she smoothed down the pale pink dress she wore. The black lace on her bra peeped through the low-cut neckline, showcasing her creamy cleavage. The dress stretched over her curves, dipping in the scarred crater in her side. The dark fabric of her bra and panties showed through. Slut. Prissy sneered on the inside. Even Prissy would not wear the dress like that. Whore. I hope you get HIV and die. Wallowing in her hatred, her misery, she sank even lower with a fresh spray of pee into the huge diaper. Her tummy rumbled warningly as the suppositories took hold, making her bowels more active. A diaper blowout was imminent. She groaned and drooled her misery, helpless to stop what Lili had set into motion. Satisfied Prissy was broken as she could be for the moment, Lili left her be. She pulled on a raspberry colored cashmere cardigan she'd fished from the expansive closet. The dress was meant for a summer date, not this cold season. She then helped herself to Prissy's make-up to complete her goth-to-prep makeover. Mad Max, star of the football team, nervously pressed the doorbell. The Renine mansion was both familiar and strange to him. He'd been over regularly when he'd been dating Priscilla, back when she was head cheerleader. He hadn't been here in months, ever since her accident. The last time he'd seen his ex-girlfriend had been when he'd visited her in the hospital. He'd stood in the entry way to the hospital room, staring in horror at all the tubes and equipment hooked up to her. At her splayed legs and the wet diaper between them. Max shuddered at the memory. He used to feel at home here. Now, he felt like a stranger, an old man visiting his childhood neighborhood to see how much it had changed. He did not want to be here; Priscilla was nothing but a drooling tard now. He was done and over with her. He was here for Liliana. For Lili and those magnificent breasts. She was so much hotter than Prissy had ever been. Sure, she was a crazy bitch, but she looked like one hell of a good fuck. Crazy bitch would be crazy in bed. He was hard just thinking about it. Lili had been teasing him and the other boys at school. Mostly him. She so wanted him. Her antics made him think she was available in more ways than one. Last school day, Lili had pushed him into his locker, her huge tits smashing into his chest, filling his vision. She'd invited him over, one of her legs slipping between his, teasingly brushing against his cock. He'd just nodded dumbly. So, here he was Maybe he wouldn't even need to see Prissy. If he absolutely had to, he would just pop in and say hi for a second. Then he could focus on fucking that hot goth freak. Rumor had it Lili's pussy was pierced. What would that feel like? He wanted to tongue-fuck her and find out. He used to do that to Prissy. The image of her splayed legs, the yellow stained plastic of her diaper blared at him. He used to put his mouth on that pussy. Now it was covered in piss and shit. He gagged. Now Prissy was the perfect girlfriend for that pants-shitting, burned freak. He sneered as he recalled pantsing Cameron in class, back when the idiotic teachers tried to mainstream the freak. That sped didn't belong with the normal kids. Max had showed them Freddy Kruger the Diaper Boy had no place with them. He had pulled Cameron's pants down, his hand accidentally brushing over Cameron's thick diaper in the process. He'd felt lumps of shit under the padded plastic. Disgusting. Prissy was like that now. The door swung open silently on its hinges, but no maid or butler stood there holding it open. "P-prissy?" Max stared in shock. The girl looked a lot like Priscilla, but not close enough to actually be her. More delicate facial features. Rounder curves. Bigger boobs. Almost like Liliana?…….But she was a Gothic freakshow…..this girl….was normal….Could it be? "Aww, Maxie, you don't remember me?" The girl pouted, her tone teasing. Her eyes gazing at him like they wanted to devour him. Taking him in, assessing him. Tiger eyes. "L-lili?" He stared hard at her, trying to reconcile this preppy girl with the goth girl he knew. "Good boy, Maxie! You remembered!" She giggled. "You look so normal." He stared at her, still flabbergasted by the change. He didn't even register the teasing nickname she used for him. "You're so silly. come on in!" She grabbed his big, football player hand and led him inside. "Well, do you like my dress?" She stood in front of him, displaying that porn star body. Max stared. The raspberry cardigan slipped off her shoulders. The dress hugged the curves of her body. Black bra and panties showed through the sheer material. And she offered all that to him. He could reach out and touch her. His pants tightened as his erection stirred. Lili's eyes smouldered, taunting, gloating, full of lust and promise. Prissy had always been shy and nervous, unless she was drunk. Lili was bold, her eyes raking over him. His cock grew hard and stiff as he watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, breasts straining against the material that confined them. Begging him to free them. Her pink lips twitched and the preppy schoolgirl facade fell as she stepped closer, one knee between his legs. He could feel the heat of her body. So close. Her boobs almost touching him. Her hand rubbing his swollen crotch. Touching, teasing him. Holy hell. His breathing increased and his cock surged to full life as she rubbed small circles on it. He moaned. "I'll take that as a yes, yeah?" Lili laughed, a cold note in her voice. It sent a chill along his spine, making him feel like he was caught up in some kind of twisted game. Or the crazy bitch was off her rocker. Who the hell cared, as long as she got his rocks off. Maybe sucking it…. "Come on, Maxie. Let's go say hi to Pissy-pie in her room…then I can show you mine." Her voice lowered to a sexy husky whisper as she leaned in, her warm breath washing over his cheek, her lips so close to his ear. Her tongue flicked out, quickly licking his cheek. He shivered, picturing that tongue licking his dick. Lili took his hand again. He stumbled a few times as she led him further into the house, up a flight of winding stairs and down a long hall decorated with paintings and portraits of a younger Jack, Jill, their parents, Jack and Jill at their wedding, their two boys, then a few of their grandchildren- Liliana and Priscilla as little girls in frilly finery. Priscilla smiled sweetly, but even in paintings Liliana scowled. Plush chairs, lacquered benches, reading nooks and many potted plants littered the house. They passed a few maids on the long trek to Prissy's room. No pictures of Jack in India, his beloved tigers, or any of his numerous safaris. Jill kept her home scoured of all that. Max focused only on the sway of Lili's ass under the cardigan, the glide of bones under her smooth, corpse-pale skin on her exposed shoulders. "Here we are. Prissy's been so excited to see you." Lil's voice was full of satisfaction, like a cat that ate the canary. "Huh?" Max looked up from her firm ass to find himself in Prissy's bedroom. He'd once known it as well as he knew her body. Except now the room was littered with medical equipment. Her school desk was now a station for the nurses, complete with mini fridge and microwave. Her chaise lounge and entertainment center now for the nurses' use. The canopy princess bed they used to have sex in was replaced by a hospital bed. A huge stack of thick white diapers, bottles of baby powder, tubes of diaper cream and tubs of wipes covered one dresser near the bed. The room reeked of a sick nursing home. Hospital antiseptic combined dirty diapers and stale piss. In the middle of it all lay Priscilla in her medical bed. Her legs were splayed and the gigantic white diaper filled his vision. A monstrous white diaper with bright, happy clowns and balloons on the front panel. The world B-A-B-Y spelled out on the balloons. "Go on, say hello. Don't be so shy!" Lili chirped, her hands suddenly on Max's back, shoving him forward to the bed. To Priscilla. Max stared at his ex-girlfriend and her bulging white diapers with bright, happy clowns on the front panel. He stumbled forward, propelled by Lili's hands. Deja vu washed over; he was once again back at the hospital and horrified all over again at the ruins of his once-sexy girlfriend. No tubes now, just matted hair, old lady nightgown, pink bib and a huge diaper for her to piss and shit in. Prissy stared back at him, misery etched into her drool smattered face. She whimpered piteously, mentally pleading for him to save her. To run away. She did not want him to see her like this. Go. Go. Go. Leave before I shit myself, you stupid lunk. Her head lolled to the side, shifting her gaze to her cousin's smiling face. Oh, how I hate you! "So good of you to stop by. Pissy really misses her friends. Especially you. She still thinks you're together. Maybe we can take her out sometime." Lili giggled in a falsely playful laugh. She wrapped her arms around Max, breasts squishing into his back as she pushed him forward another step. He froze at her words, not budging. She scowled. "How could she want anyone to see her like that? I'd rather die." Max shuddered, full of revulsion. His boner died down. "Look at her!" He gestured to her. "Diapers!" "Cute, yeah? They've got happy clowns to cheer her up." Lili urged him forward again; he took a step back. The rumbling in Prissy's belly steadily grew as the suppositories fully melted and began to take effect. Her legs involuntarily twitched, making her diaper rustle loudly. She groaned in resigned humiliation and dread. Tears leaked from her closed eyes. "She drools like a big fucking baby. It's disgusting. More disgusting than Freddy Kreugar." Max's upper lip curled in distaste. Prissy winced, Max's words cutting her to the core. More tears flowed with a soft sob. A loud gurgle drowned out her cries as the rumbling grew lower in her belly. She whimpered, knowing what was to come. "I'm sure that college recruiter would just love to hear about all this, yeah? Mr. Warner was so interested in your role bullying Cameron, too. Such stellar qualities in a top football recruit, yeah?" Lili's words froze Max cold. "What did you just say?" He turned to her, looming over her, threatening her with his size. Lili wasn't fazed. "I'm trying to do you a favor, Maxi. Mr. Warner's been asking so many questions about you. About Freddy Kreugar. It's not looking very good for you, yeah? He was also interested in your relationship with Pissy here. Especially when he learned I'm her cousin." She leaned casually against one of the railings on Prissy's medical bed and examined her black polished nails. "You've been talking to that recruiter? Behind my back?' Max's eyes went wide, whites showing as his ire rose. Lili snorted. "He's been talking to everyone. Very nice man. Course, I lied my ass off. Told him you were still friends with her and visited when you could. So you should be thanking me instead of getting your panties in a knot." "Oh." Max's bluster died down as he stared at her. She'd planned all this just to impress that college football recruiter for him? A worm of doubt wiggled in his gut. He stared at her sumptuous tits in that come-fuck-me dress and thought of all the flirting she'd done at school. She so wanted him. This was just some crazy chick scheme so she could fuck him. Bitches were weird like that. "I thought you wanted to fuck me?" Liliana laughed as if he'd just said a joke. She sauntered to him, hips swaying as she let the raspberry cardigan slide off her pale, sculpted arms to reveal lily white skin he just wanted to lick. Her breasts bounced softly, just begging for his touch. Staring at her, he grew hard again. "Of course I do. Who wouldn't want a hunk like you?" She purred, stepping close. "Poor Prissy gets so lonely though. Just give her a quick hello. For charity. Then we can be alone." "I guess I can do that." Max hesitated, eyeing Prissy helplessly sprawled in the bed with her bulging, noisy white diaper catching his attention. The things he did for his dick. Damn bitch better make it worth it. "Sure you can." Lili cooed encouragingly. Max suddenly stumbled when she shoved him again, forcing him close to the bed. He automatically reached out to steady himself. His fingers brushed against something warm and doughy. Prissy's foot, muscles atrophied from disuse. His eyes locked with Priscilla's. He hadn't looked into her eyes since before her accident; the last time was when they made out. He jerked his hand back, but he couldn't break eye contact, feeling like he was looking at a familiar stranger. Priscilla whimpered, drool running down her chin and onto her bib. A loud fart ripped through the room, followed by the pungent reek of fresh feces. Max and Prissy's eyes widened simultaneously then Max's gaze travelled down to the diaper. The thick plastic was no longer pure white. The butt bulged out in lumps, slowly expanding as Prissy continued to poop. "She's shitting herself!" Max cried in horror, face twisted in disgust as he turned to Liliana. She just smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, Prissy does that. Hence the diapers." She flicked at a glance at her cousin, who continued to noisily fart and mess. Her eyes were closed, tears falling as the putrid stench of her shit filled the room. Lili grimaced, stepping away from the bed. Max gagged flamboyantly, edging towards the door as he coughed and hacked. "That's disgusting. I can't do this, babe. I'm outta here. This too fucked up." "We don't have to stay in here with stinky butt." Lili leaned in to block the door but Max pushed past her. "How can you even think of sex at a time like this? I'm going home to shower. Later." With that, Max ran out of the room and out of the house. "Bye bye ickle Maxie-pad." Lili waved nonchalantly. "Oh well. Didn't work out the way I wanted, but shit happens." She was pleased she'd accomplished her main goal- for Max to watch prissy shit her diaper. Now he was sure to tell the other kids what he'd witnessed. "At least now I can ditch this slut rag." As she crossed the room, reaching for her zipper, she passed Priscilla. Prissy had finished pooping; the back of her diaper was tinged brown with lumps poking out against the thick plastic while the front was tinged yellow from her pee. "So, Pissy poopy-pants, was it as good for you as it was for me?" Her only reply was a garbled, defeated sob. Moments later someone knocked on the door. A maid in a crisp gray uniform poked her head around the open door with a knock on the frame. "Miss Liliana, Ms. Asha wants to see you." Cameron lay facedown on a cushioned play mat in his nursery. He kicked his feet, squirming on the floor. His diaper crinkled loudly as he tried in vain to stretch his legs out fully. The horrid, bright yellow sleeper with attached, padded booties and mittens was a size too small length wise. The garment was several years old, from when he'd first come home from the intensive regression therapy at the mental hospital. One of his nannies or housekeeper should've gotten rid of it like the rest of the baby clothing he'd outgrown, but the sleeper lingered on in his wardrobe. Occasionally he found himself trapped in it. Width wise it was still big in the waist, easily accommodating the titanic bulk of his noisy diapers. It was just too short, preventing him from extending his legs. Walking was impossible; all he could do was crawl. He had tried to protest when his nanny had dressed him in it, but a sharp smack to his scarred, mottled, melted thigh quelled him into fearful, quiet obedience. "Your other sleepers are in the laundry and I don't want to look at that skin of yours any more than I have to." She'd scolded sharply. Cameron had just whimpered softly behind his binky in apology. His squirming on the playmat accomplished just scooting forward on the cloth mat. A warm wetness surrounded his crotch suddenly as he peed. The thirsty padding of a fresh, dry diaper sucked the pleasant sensation away. Cameron looked down at a plastic toy mirror sewn into the happy yellow cloth. The colorful mat had various infant toys sewn onto the outer border. He peered down at his slightly distorted reflection in the shiny plastic. The angle made his binky look huge. The blue shield of the pacifier covered his lips; the green button had a green frog on it, complete with a white ring. Many times by various people he'd been told how pretty he was. During his brief attempt at being main streamed, he'd even had a few girls jealous. He never paid much attention to his delicate, feminine facial features or his slender body. He was more concerned with hiding his horrible scars. Even his nannies would rather shove him into a too-small sleeper than look at his mutilated flesh. Momentos from his father boiling him alive. Cameron scrunched his pert nose up at his reflection and tried once more to stretch out his legs. His toes pushed against the unyielding fabric then flopped limp on the floor as he gave up with a soft, muffled sigh. Repeated stretching would only make his legs cramp up sooner. Lili wouldn't have minded his scars. She might even let him crawl around in just a diaper and a bib. Cameron blushed at the thought and squirmed, uncomfortable with just the thought of exposing his scars, even if Lili would be the only one who saw them. His diaper crinkled loudly with his infantile, helpless squirming. Lili. Cameron's heart clenched at the memory of those purple lips and spiked piercings. Several weeks had passed. He only saw her once during playtime at school, when he toddled past the door and saw the principal escorting her to his office. She'd seen him, grinning and giving him a little flirty wave. He'd never see her again. The heavy truth weighed down his heart. The rational part of him knew they were never meant to be, while another, hopeful part of him kept waiting for her to randomly appear at any moment with her pierced lips and cocky swagger. She'd probably forgotten all about him by now. Those metallic purple lips would forever linger in the shadows of his memory. Cameron rolled his eyes at his own melodramatic sentimentality. He nursed his binky, some drool running down his chin and onto his bib. It was mint green terrycloth with a print of a diapered teddybear and ABC blocks. The plastic backing was almost as noisy as his diapers. Every little motion made Cameron crinkle from either his bib or his diapers. Those crinkles and crackles comforted him, reassured him he was just a baby and he was safe. He tilted his head up to look out the nursery window. The brilliant orange and red foliage on the sturdy tree outside had waned to the brittle, parchment brown of late fall creeping in. What was Lili doing right now? Probably not thinking about him. The sky was a bright, teasing blue splattered with leaden grey clouds as Old Man Winter prematurely poked in with eager, brittle fingers. A wave of loneliness washed over him. He looked back down to the playmat and batted halfheartedly at a rattle sewn onto the cloth. He was used to wearing mittens, but he hated how these mittens were so thickly padded. His hands were practically useless. The most he could do was curl his fingers. In this sleeper, he could barely hold onto his bottles. He sighed again, sucking on the large rubber nipple filling his mouth and tapped the rattle some more. His diapers were louder than that pathetic little rattle. He'd always been content with his toys, his caretakers- his regression therapists, nannies, and teachers. Pleasing the adults by being a good baby, a good boy. His father had always been mad at him for not making it to the potty. As a baby, he was expected to go in his diapers. Even when his therapist decided to mainstream him, they still kept him in diapers. No potty training for Cameron. He knew some big boys needed diapers, but they did not have pacifiers or cribs like babies did. Cameron never had many friends. Sure, he played with his classmates from school- when they approached him. He rarely initiated play with others, content to crawl about on his own. He did not like being pinched, slapped, or toys stolen. Neither did he like being a tattle tale. So his only option was to quietly endure, or cry out if a pinch hurt bad enough. So for the most part, he was always on his own. Until pierced, purple lipped interloper sauntered into his life like a stray cat and made herself right at home. She was so confusing. Part of him wanted her as a babysitter but another part of him wanted her as a diapered playmate, an equal. Even if she was mentally regressed, he could still play with her. He'd never felt the desire to play with another before. Cameron sighed. Either way, it didn't matter. He was never seeing Liliana again. His thoughts just kept circling on themselves. A wet warmth engulfed his scarred crotch as he peed again, quickly absorbed by the thirsty padding. He rolled onto his back on the padded playmat and tried to stretch again. The short sleeper kept his knees bent, and his gargantuan diaper kept his thin legs forced far apart. The bulk lifted his butt off the floor like he had a pillow under him. He tilted his head back , pressing his skull into the soft padding as he looked across the room. His nanny sat in the rocking chair, her back to him, focused on a TV soap opera. He whined softly around the rubber nipple filling his mouth, timidly begging her to change him out of his sleeper. He wanted to stretch his legs, to get up and toddle around, to use his hands and play. Nanny never glanced back at him, too absorbed in her show. Cameron lowered his eyes, sucking quietly on his paci. The plastic guard rubbed over his hips and cheeks as he suckled. His slim fingers toyed with the bottom of his bib. The thick diaper forced his bent legs far apart; he lay in a flopped frog position. He pressed his toes into the cloth covering them but the sleeper held firm, trapping him and keeping his legs bent. He whined softly in frustration, voice muffled by the huge rubber nipple filling his mouth. He looked around his nursery, at his collection of therapeutic regression toys, all left over from the various stages of regression therapy he'd gone through. Everything from infants to toddler to preschool. All of his toys- rattles, blocks, trucks, dinosaurs, etc- were piled neatly inside his handmade, wooden toybox. One of his favorite toys was still on the floor; his big, yellow Tonka dumptruck with the fat plastic black wheels. A big blue bouncy ball with red stars sat in the back of the truck. If Lili was here, she'd have thrown the ball at Nanny Isabel's head. Cameron smiled at the thought then rolled onto his stomach with a loud crinkle. He pushed up onto his mitten covered hands. The thick padding of the mittens made it hard to feel the floor. He tried to curl his fingers; the firm, stiff padding barely gave way. He whimpered softly, feeling trapped and helpless. His bib dangled down, ready to catch his drool. It was already spotted with dried dribbles from his earlier bottles. He nursed his paci, tongue working the rubber nipple. He tried to bring his knees up under him, but the Godzilla-sized bulk of his diaper wouldn't let him. They stayed spread far apart. At least he could get up onto his knees. He crawled off the mat, diaper rustling loudly like an army of grocery bags. His crawl was slow and awkward, hampered by the diaper's bulk, the thick padding imprisoning his hands, and the short legs of the sleeper. His padded backside swayed as he awkwardly crawled along like an infant just learning to crawl. The too-small sleeper hampered his leg movements, cutting his crawls short and slowing him down. Finally, he reached his ball and batted it out of the truck with one useless hand. He tried to sit up, but the sleeper wouldn't let him situate his legs just right. He whined in frustration, kicking out with one bent leg. The momentum sent him rolling onto his side with a noisy crinkle. As he landed on his back, he felt warmth engulf his crotch as he unknowingly peed. He tried to sit up again with the same result. The sleeper forced him to lay down on his belly. He pouted behind his paci, the rhythm of his sucking and motion of the nipple soothing him. He turned his head to look at Nanny Isabel. For a wild moment, he was tempted to toss the ball at her head. But that was bad and he'd get in trouble. Bad baby. Bad boy. Cameron's eyes widened at those thoughts. He shivered, whimpering softly. He'd get in so much trouble. A little bit of pee squirted out and his belly rumbled as his lunch worked its way through him. At school, he was allowed to feed himself like a big boy. He got big boy food like cut up chicken nuggets and hot dogs. At home, he drank bottles of formula designed for growing adolescent nutrition and organic baby food made by Grandma Beatrice's personal chef Tyrone. Lunch today had been steamed and strained, mushy peas, smashed carrots, and squashed squash. He wrinkled his pert little nose. He was used to such food, but vegetables had never been his favorite. He lightly batted the ball with his padded mittens. All that stiff padding engulfing his dainty doll hands made the round rubber of the ball hard to grip. He had to struggle to hold the ball between both mittens. The carpet was soft and push, a perfect cushion for crawling. Not so good for ball bouncing. It rolled away; Cameron scooted after it, crinkling audibly. Roll, crawl and crinkle. Even the slow ball moved faster than him, hampered by huge diaper, padded mittens and too small sleeper. Frustrated, he dug his elbows into the carpet, army crawling on his tummy. His big, dragged along with his belly, cut into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his neck. He pushed with his knees in a noisy rustle. In this manner, he played with his ball, rolling it around and slowly chasing after it in his super noisy diaper. Occasionally, he paused to sneak looks at his nanny. She never even turned her head to check on him. His lower belly rumbled but he paid no attention to it, too used to messy diapers. He batted the ball harder, annoyed at his nanny. Wasn't it her job to at least check on him? Guilt chased on the heels of his annoyance. He liked being a good boy, making others happy. Pleasing the grown ups so they didn't get mad at him like his daddy used to. He shouldn't bother Nanny Isabel; she didn't like it. Even if taking care of him was her job. He frowned behind his binky and smacked the ball as hard as his mitten covered hand would allow. It skittered across the carpet, bounced off the white baseboard, and flew back to hit him in the face. Leftover, ingrained instincts from his long time in Regression Therapy kicked in. Tears of shock and pain welled in Cameron's eyes. His paci tumbled from this trembling pink lips and he whimpered. He cried softly, wishing desperately for comfort and reassurance. He rocked gently from side to side, diaper crinkling under him as he swayed. His eyes closed tightly as he tried to calm himself down. He peeked up at Nanny Isabel hopefully. At a particularly loud, bold sob, she slammed an irritated hand down on an armrest of the rocker. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to muffled his sobs. The urge to soothingly suck on something overwhelmed him as he cried. His paci always comforted him. Tears blurred his vision as he reached for his binky on the floor. Nanny Isabel hadn't bothered with a paci clip. The tips of his mittens bumped it, pushing it further from him. The stiff, thick padding rendered his hands virtually useless. His distressed mewls grew louder as his tears flowed faster. He fumbled with his paci, finally managing to pick it up between his mittens. A moment later it tumbled out of his padded grip. His cries grew with his frustration. He covered his mouth with his mittens to stifle the noise. He tried to put a thumb in his mouth but all he got was cloth. He whined, cheeks and bib soaked with his streaming tears as he bit down harshly on the thick padding of a mitten. His fingers barely felt the pressure of the bite. "Cameron!" He winced at Nanny's sharp rebuke. He knew better than to bother her, especially during her afternoon soaps. Or when she talked on her cell phone. From overhearing her conversations, he'd learned she only got into the regression therapy business for the money. She'd been fired from several other jobs. She only lasted here so long because "the old biddy didn't care" what she did. The other nannies the agency sent over were much nicer and more attentive than Isabel; he wished one of them had been on duty today. A sharp slap tore his mitten out of his mouth. Cameron whimpered, eyes squeezed tight. His binky was shoved in his mouth; the nipple pressed down on his tongue, making him gag while the hard plastic shield smashed into his soft cheeks. His tear-blurred eyes shot wide open. Isabel glowered down at him, her palm flat on the button of his binky. She leaned forward, pressing all her weight down. Cameron's scream was muffled. The binky pressed his skin into his teeth. He flailed, kicking his bent legs with a noisy rustle and helplessly batting at her wrists with his thick mittens. She kept pressing until Cameron collapsed with a soft, defeated whimper as tears streamed down his cheeks. His nose, cheek and brow bone throbbed where the rubber ball had hit, but that dulled in comparison to the burning sharp pain in his lips. "You wanna keep crying, I'll give you a reason to cry." Isabel scolded as Cameron shrunk into himself. He nodded, biting down on the rubber nipple to stifle another whimper. His watery gaze stayed glued to the floor, unable to take the annoyed wrath in Isabel's face. He yearned for cuddles and kisses on his boo-boos. Like when he fell at school getting onto the changing table and Ms. Sweeney and Lili had coddled him. After a period of silence, he realized Nanny expected a response from him. "S-sowwies." He sniffed a lisping, barely audible apology, hoping to defuse some of her fury. "Yeah. Well, you just stay quiet and quit causing trouble." Cameron lowered his head, curling into a defensive ball at her scolding. He shrank into himself, trying to be a small and inconspicuous as possible. She was as impossible to please as his father had been. Even the crinkle of his diaper seemed to annoy her. He stayed still and quiet, holding his shaking breath; he listened to the creak of the rocker as she sat down, grumbling about him making her miss her show. The TV blared as she tuned it up. Cameron shuddered in the wake of Nanny Isabel's anger. He lay curled in a fetal position, lips and eye throbbing from both nanny smashing his paci in and the ball smacking him in the face. He warily stared at Nanny's back; she was engrossed in her show once again, ignoring him. A loud fart suddenly erupted from his backside, followed by more farts and a warm avalanche of mushy, mud-like mess as he helplessly soiled himself. His mess was too soft to tent his diaper; it just slipped out of him, soft and sticky, in a series of farts. His monstrously thick padding muffled the farts and the special pills he took nullified fecal odor. The mess spread over his cheeks, coating his backside, then flowed up around his crotch, coating all his burned, scarred boy bits in a thick mushy wave. It even surged up onto his lower belly. A fresh spurt of warm pee followed. Cameron paid no attention, barely noticing the state of his diaper. He focused on being quiet, on being a good boy. He closed his eyes, lips throbbing as he tried to suckle on the rubber nipple of his binky. Pain flared in the bruising flesh and he stopped, muffling his whimper with his mitten covered hands. Spit dribbled down his cheek and onto his bib and the carpet. He stayed quiet, trying to calm down. When he finally opened his eyes, the pain in his face abated to a dull throb. He cautiously peeked at Nanny. She still didn't look at him. He sighed softly, wishing he could suck his binky. His eyes fell on the ball nearby. He shuddered and pushed the horrible thing away from him. It would be a long time before he'd ever play with that again. The ball rolled away, slowed by the thick carpet, but it kept rolling. He'd shoved it harder than he'd thought; it rolled right out the open nursery door. Fear washed over him. His eyes widened as he watched his ball disappear. His toy left the nursery. Bad boy! He was a very bad boy! He trembled, a little pee spurting out, and bit down on his binky's nipple to stifle his fearful whimper. Toys were supposed to stay in the nursery. He was in so much trouble. He snuck a glance at Nanny's back as a bold, daring thought bloomed in his head. Maybe he could sneak out and get the ball back before Nanny noticed? It's not like she paid much attention, as long as he was good and quiet…. He squashed that terrifying, bad thought. He was NOT allowed out of the nursery on his own. He'd be in so much trouble. He already was in trouble…Grandma Beatrice would be so, so mad if she found out. If Nanny Isabel caught him…. IF. If, if, if….Nanny really wasn't paying attention….He snuck another glance at her. He paused, slim body quivering at the turbulent thoughts bouncing around his head. His heart raced. Even if he stayed in the nursery, his ball was already out of it. No matter what he did, he was already in trouble. The ball was certainly going to be found by one of the maids if he stayed put. Nanny was absorbed in her show. She didn't want to be interrupted…He could risk crawling out, get the ball, crawl back in. She'd never notice. His heart fluttered like the beating wings of a frantic, trapped bird. He suckled fast on his binky out of habit, then winced as pain flared in his abused lips. Just thinking of breaking the rules made him light headed and dizzy. But he had to get the ball back. He got to his hands and knees, glancing at Nanny's back once more. She still didn't look at him. Limbs shaking, he unsteadily crawled as fast as his huge diaper and too small onesie would allow. His teeth clamped firmly down on the rubber nipple filling his mouth while nervous drool dribbled onto his bib. Cameron froze at the nursery threshold. He stared out into the hall, his quivering turning into fearful tremors. He barely realized he was peeing as his nerves wreaked havoc on his not-potty trained bladder. His ball still rolled sluggishly down the wooden hallway floor and into his grandmother's room. Horror washed over him. He whimpered. He was dead. So very, very dead. He swayed on his hands and knees, fear squeezing his lungs and making him want to pass out. His thoughts raced too fast for him to keep up with, making him light headed. His vision swam, blurring and his pulse pounded. He wobbled, falling against his nursery door, balance thrown off by rising panic. He suddenly, desperately wished Liliana was here. He knew down deep in his bones that troublemaker would know just what to do. He closed his eyes, picturing Lili's purple lips and spiked piercings. She'd think this was funny- an amusing game. Get the ball before you get caught. He was terrified of the painful consequences; he'd already been punished enough today. Just thinking of that made his face ache. He shuddered. Lili would joke at his fear, take his hands, lead him out of the nursery. She'd go get his ball with an insolent saunter, just daring Isabel to catch her. He wished he was bold and brave like her. She wasn't afraid of punishment. But she was not here; Cameron was on his own. An empty pang shot through his heart and he winced as if from a physical blow. Tears sprang to his eyes and he sniffled, sitting back on his padded rump with a poopy squish so he could wipe away his tears with his mittens. He had to do this, even if he was all by himself. His breathing was heavy, labored. No one was in the hall. He looked over his shoulder. Nanny was still oblivious. He could do this. Think like Lili. He stared down the hall at Grandma's open bedroom door. Just crawl down, get his ball, crawl back. Simple. Easy. He could get away with it. Either go get it now, or leave it there and be caught for sure. Oh, how he hated being bad. But he had no choice. Before he could chicken out any further, he rose back up onto his shaking hands and knees. He crawled forward with a noisy crinkle, boldly putting his mitten covered palms down on the hard wood outside his nursery. Eyes huge in his pretty face, he glanced back. Isabella's gaze was still safely glued to the TV. Cameron took a deep breath and crawled the rest of the way out of the nursery. Every movement of his lower extremities issued crinkles and rustles so loud they seemed to echo in the huge, empty hallway. The cloth covering his fingers, knees, and feet slipped on the polished wood. He kept crawling on, slipping and sliding as he went. His heart pounded, his palms sweated inside his mittens, and anxiety roiled in his stomach, making him nauseous. He felt like he was going to throw up. He held himself together by focusing on the simple thought of get his ball back. Each noisy crawl forward took him closer and closer to his ball. Halfway down the long hall, his knees and palms began to hurt from the hard wood of the floor. He wondered if they'd bruise. He wished for the soft cushioning of his nursery carpet. Mid-crawl, both cloth covered knees suddenly slid apart. His thick diaper absorbed the impact, protecting his bottom from the unyielding wood. The mushy mess inside his soggy diaper slid around. Luckily his diaper was so huge and thick; it easily contained his mess. Normally the yucky state of his diaper never bothered him, but this messy diaper coupled with his restricted ability to walk made him feel even more vulnerable and infantile in his nervous emotional state. He trembled, limbs shaking as he slowly crawled and slipped along. His mind was numb, limbs shaking as he fought to keep his terror at bay. Just get his ball. He expected to be discovered with every passing moment. Fear prompted him to move fast, but that just made him slip more and resulted in more time. He forced himself to crawl along slowly so he'd quit slipping so much. His palms and knees ached, but he brushed off the pain. His only thought was to get his ball back. Finally, he made it to Grandmother Beatrice's room. The cushion of the carpet had him sighing happily in relief. He flopped onto his tummy with a loud crinkle, limbs aching. He'd never crawled so much on such a painfully hard surface. He smiled with relief when he saw his ball by his grandmother's dresser. Framed photographs and doilies cluttered every surface. A few photos were of Beatrice and her husband when they were young. Most were of Beatrice's son, Cameron's father. Multiple baby pics, childhood, teenager, young man. Everywhere his father smiled down at him. There were even several pictures of him older and wearing prison uniforms. Beatrice turned her room into a shrine for her son. There was only one picture of Cameron- as a baby, his father holding him and smiling for the camera. No wonder he wasn't allowed in here. He stared up at the smiling faces of his father, ball forgotten. He shuddered as all those smiling fathers bore down on him, memories of the man washing over him. Unlike in Grandma's photos, he never remembered Daddy smiling. Even with all of the intensive regression therapy Cameron had been through for years in the hospital, outpatient at home, then at school, he could still recall the bite of his father's belt on his backside as a small child when he wet the bed or his pants. The burning rage in his father's eyes had seared him down to his soul. He curled into a ball on the carpet, whimpering softly around his paci. He just wanted back inside the safety of his nursery. Seeing the hated and feared face of Daddy caused old memories to bubble up from the depths of his mind. So long ago, over a decade. Twelve years. In first grade and he hadn't been able to make it to the bathroom most of the time. His father had been embarrassed and humiliated to have a son who still frequently wet himself and occasionally messed. The breaking point, the day that changed both their lives, had been the day he ended up with both wet and messy pants.

Sonja turned to Reila with a questioning look on her face. Reila did not want to have any conversation regarding the weird woman, her wet pants, or her missing pull up. Which she needed to replace before mom recovered her wits and started bitching. "GOTTA PEE!" She shouted, not caring who overheard as she darted for the ladies room in a mad dash, cutting in the line. Women jumped out of her way before she bowled them over, then shot Sonja scathing looks for her daughter's behavior. Stalls were occupied, but luckily no one was in the outer part, by the sinks, hand dryers, paper towel dispensers and trashcan. Reila's hands shook as she desperately dug through the trash. She dug past crumpled paper towels and a few cardboard coffee cups to the very bottom. Her knees trembled with relief as her reaching fingers brushed over the cloth-like cover of her pull up. Sonja hadn't found it. The wet spot was growing cold between her slim thighs, destroying her short lived triumph at getting something over on her mother. A toilet flushed then the stall clanged open and a lady stepped out. She barely even glanced at Reila as she went straight to the sink to wash her hands. Reila blushed, tucking the pull up under her sweater and slinking into the empty stall before someone else could get in. She pulled her pants down and knelt, hovering her bare bottom over the germ-infested public toilet seat. No pee came out. She didn't have to go. They why had she spurted in her pants? Reila scowled and examined the damage to her pants. She sniffed- it didn't smell too bad; only faintly of urine. Drinking water was good for more than just staying slim, trim and beautiful as opposed to a soda-guzzling, disgusting porker. It also diluted her urine, so her pee didn't smell that bad. Standing up, Reila pulled off a boot and jeggings off one foot. She was not putting one sock covered foot on an undoubtedly germ covered public restroom floor. She leaned against the metal stall wall for balance, slid her sock covered foot through the leg hole of the pull up, back into her pants and boot, then did the same thing on the other. The pull up was thicker than panties. She could feel it pressing against her, squished from the jeans. She ran her hand over her pert butt; she loved it when guys checked her out. She could feel the pull-up though she could barely see it. She was tempted to rip it back off again. But after that little pee spurt, she was not taking any chances. Not that she NEEDED the pull up. She was going to wear it just in case. Keep it dry and show her mom. She was an adult. The pull-up did protect her from feeling the cold wet spot on her crotch. "Reila! Let's go! We need to get to the gate! they're boarding now!" Sonja's voice echoed off of the small bathroom. Reila's face went red in embarrassment. She tugged on her jeggings one last time, trying to get them comfortable over the pull up's padding. "Reila!" Sonja shouted again, making Reila wince. "Coming!" She hollered back in annoyance. The stall door banged open as she dashed out. Her jeggings were not fully fixed and her sweater tunic flipped up; the top band of her purple pull up was visible. The women in the restroom stared at her, gazes fixing on the pull up. "She's a little old for diapers, isn't she?" One lady muttered to another; Reila didn't hear her. "Probably a medical condition. Maybe she's special needs? Her mother was shouting for her, after all." The other lady answered back. Soon as Reila set foot outside the bathroom, with women in line staring at them from Sonja's shouting, Sonja started walking to the gate. She didn't care who was staring- they needed to get to the boarding gate right now. Reila rushed after her mother, not having time to even notice the pull-up band she was showing to the world. She huffed, catching up to Sonja's side. "That weird lady said you had an accident." "No. I had to piss again. Besides, she's batshit crazy." Reila panted, tugging at her jeggings. "Language. I can see how dealing with a difficult daughter makes a mother lose it. She's not crazy, she's frazzled." "Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes. "I found your diaper in the trash. I was coming out to make you go get it." Reila almost stumbled, her stride thrown off in surprise. "I did not! I have it on right now!" She denied. "You rushed back in to fish it out and put it back on. I also see a wet spot on your pants that's not from a diaper leak." "IT'S A PULL-UP!" Reila howled, temper flaring. Her mother was so fucking stupid. "IT'S A FUCKING PULL-UP, NOT A GOD DAMN DIAPER!" She howled in frustration. People stared, but mother and daughter were too intent on each other. Sonja slammed to a halt. "You know better than to swear. Don't you talk back to me like that! Maybe you need this diaper if I can't even trust you to keep your pull up on and your pants dry! Or maybe that lady was right, and you're miserable and fussy because you need an enema! " She pulled the huge, crinkly white rectangle out of the purse she'd hastily stuffed it in, brandishing it in Reila's face. Reila's entire face flushed, mouth going slack in horror. How dare she pull that out! And everyone would know it's hers! She glanced around, suddenly aware of everyone staring at the strange spectacle. She paled, anger draining, replaced by horrified embarrassment. "Put that away." She ordered hoarsely, glaring at her mother. "Let's go." Sonja snarled, shoving the diaper back into her purse with a loud crinkle. She stormed off. Reila paused, glaring mutinously at her mother's back, before following at distance to keep as much space as possible between them. She tugged at her pants. One side slid further up, but the other side slid down, exposing more of the pull up. Her tunic stayed flipped up, giving the entire airport a good view of an eighteen year old in a diaper. Err, pull up. Sonja leaned into the cushiony seat and turned another page of her thriftstore paperback romance, then took a sip of her complimentary cinnamon sprinkled eggnog latte with a liberal helping of rum. If this was business class, she could not imagine what first was like. Already she felt like a spoiled princess or movie star. This was a whole different world from the cattle cars of economy. She glanced out the small window at the puffy clouds floating by. Reila sulked in her spacious seat, arms crossed, staring out the window and sticking her lower lip out like she'd always done since she was two. She wasn't appreciating the creature comforts at all. Her sweater covered her crotch, so Sonja couldn't see if the wet pee spot had dried. They'd been in the air for several hours now, so she assumed it did. She wondered if Reila's pull-up was dry, but she doubted it. Reila had only gone to the bathroom three times, and one of those did not count because she'd come back grumbling about the bathroom being occupied forever. She hadn't gone since. Any attempts to encourage her were met with bitching about having to climb over the fat slob in a suit at the end of the aisle. Sonja ended up reprimanding Reila, ordering her to apologize to the older man with the scruffy white beard, Reila telling her to fuck off, and Sonja apologizing to the man when Reila refused. What was she to do about that girl? Spank her? Many times, the idea was tempting but Sonja had never raised a hand to her in all her years. She grounded Reila, took way toys and electronics, lectured and hollered, but drew the line at physical discipline. Some child psychologists advocated it, others said even a light, gentle swat could emotionally scar a child for life. She knew there was a big difference between discipline and corporal punishment, but she feared giving in to the temptation of putting Reila over her knee. Sonja's own mother had occasionally spanked her, and Sonja's grandmother had been a devout believer of 'spare the rod, spoil the child.'. Sonja felt like she'd screwed up somewhere with Reila. Maybe she'd spoiled her? Too soft? Too hard? She didn't know; she'd never been very good at the motherhood thing. She had Reila young- too young, when she was little more than a child herself, and not ready for parenting. "It was very generous of Great Grandma Uschi to pay for our tickets." Sonja leaned over, speaking low so she wouldn't disturb the other passengers. Reila glanced sideways at her mother, barely turning her head. "Uschi? What kind of fucked up name is that?" "Watch your mouth. It's an old, traditional name. A diminutive of Ursula." "Hah! Like the sea witch from The Little Mermaid? So what, the old bat has tentacles or some shit?" Reila laughed mockingly. Sonja frowned. A name that carried tradition, culture, and meaning. A fine, old, respectable name. Not a trendy moniker from a song title just because the vocalist was hot. A pang of regret shot through Sonja. She'd been too damn young to be a mother. "That's disrespectful. Uschi is a fine name. The family wanted me to name you after her, you know. " "Thank God you didn't." Reila rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Why are you dragging me to this backwoods shithole anyway? Is the old fossil on her deathbed or something?" She was far from pleased about this trip. She'd never even met the old bat. Her own grandmother and great-grandmother were rotting in their coffins. How was great-great Grandma Uschi, a relic from the stone age, still alive? Maybe she was a vampire? Reila snorted in quiet laughter at her musings. "We're going because she's family. You do for family- you should know that by now. I've tried teaching you. And it's the holidays. She asked us to come. This is the perfect time to get in touch with our family roots. She lives in a lovely little town. You'll love it. The houses of southern Germany are so pretty. And you're surrounded by snowy Alps. The last time I was there, I was just a little girl. I wonder how much has changed…" Sonja sighed, talking more to herself. Great grandma Uschi's invitation was more of a summons, and Sonja had no mind to refuse. This invitation had been a lifeline. Sonja recently had been laid off from her job, due to budget cuts and downsizing. Her savings had disappeared quite rapidly, dwindling down to nearly nothing. If it wasn't for great grandma Uschi, they wouldn't be having much of a Christmas at all. "Whatever." Reila turned back to the window, barely listening to her mother's sentimental blather. She snagged her pop can, swigging the bubbly Mountain Dew. It was her sixth one already; she was bored and she had to conserve her iphone's battery. Her bladder twinged, causing her to squirm. The dry padding of her pull-up brushed over her sensitive mound, teasing her. She had to pee, for over an hour now. If she got up to go, she'd just get into another fight with her mother over the fat fool blocking the aisle. People that fat should be required to buy an entire row of seats so their lard would not inconvenience anyone else, Reila thought sourly. She needed to keep her damn pull up clean to prove to her mother she did not need them. So her only option was to hold it until landing. Fuck saving the battery; she was desperate. Reila dug out her earbuds and iphone from her carry on as Sonja became lost once more in her trashy romance. Two hours later, Reila squirmed in agony. Rap music blared in her ears, but it didn't even register in her brain. Her bladder spasmed painfully, ready to burst. She glared at her mother's empty seat and the snoring fat man past that. The tub of lard reclined in his seat, taking up even more room. She assumed her mom was at the bathroom. Reila wanted to kick the fat man, tell him to wake the fuck up and get the hell out of her way, then storm to the bathroom and pound on the door, barge her way to the toilet. She needed to piss, bad. She didn't want another row with her annoying, bitchy mother or another fight with the fat man just to get to the fucking toilet. She did have a pull-up on. She bit her lip. She wanted to keep it dry…but if she wet just a little, it would help her bladder feel better….And she could always sneak a new pull up out of her mother's carry on. Hide the pull up under her sweater, and go change in the bathroom. She could trick her mother into believing she'd kept herself dry. Yes, that was her best bet. Reila took a deep breath, held it, and concentrated on forcing her bladder to let loose, just a little. The pee would not come. Her bladder twitched but her muscles welded shut. She breathed out, shifting around and trying to force it. Nothing. She pissed herself accidentally all the time, but the one time she willingly wanted to use her pull up, her stupid bladder rebelled. Fucking figured. She closed her eyes, struggling to force some urine out. She was going to pee in this fucking pull up, damn it! She grunted a little, but her bladder muscles remained tight and uncooperative. *********** On her way back to her seat, Sonja could not help but overhear a conversation between a girl who looked around Reila's age and the girl's mother. "Mom, this pull-up feels gross. It's all cold and clammy. Are you sure you don't have another one in your purse? Maybe…maybe a pad or something?" "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You're wearing the only pull up we have. Our carry-ons were too big, so they sent them to luggage." "B-but what if I have another accident?" Sonja's heart twisted. Too often had she been in the mother's shoes. Their dilemma wasn't any of her business, but she had two of Reila's pull ups in her carry on. Indecisively, she looked at the miserable girl shifting around uncomfortably in her seat. She looked around Reila's size; the pull ups should fit… "Yes?" The girl's mother noticed Sonja staring. The girl blushed and looked down, tugging at her soft, fuzzy pink skirt as if trying to hide her already hidden pull up. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help overhear. My daughter has …similar problems. I have some pull ups in my carry on if you'd like…your daughter looks about the same size as mine…" She trailed off awkwardly. The sharp look on the mother's face softened into one of cautious hope, both relieved and disbelieving in this strange coincidence. Someone overheard them talking about pull-ups, and that person just happens to have pull-ups of the correct size? "….Are….you sure? Doesn't your daughter need them?" "She's fine. Our flight's almost over and she's managed to keep dry so far." Sonja peered down at the blonde girl, whose gaze was firmly locked on her purple boots. Her pink skirt had ridden up. Her cream woolen leggings bulged out slightly around her exposed crotch, revealing the puffy, soggy, saggy pull up. Her cheeks blazed in bright apple embarrassment. She wriggled around, tugging her skirt back down, clutching the hem with her fists. "Please…ma'am…" The girl mumbled softly. Hope had won out over her embarrassment. "We have a connecting flight to catch. I…I sometimes fall asleep and..and…" And wet herself. One more wetting, and her saturated pull up would leak. Their carryons would be transferred by airport staff along with the rest of their luggage. "That settles it. I simply must insist. My daughter's been in the same boat, so let me help. In the spirit of the upcoming holidays." Sonja finished with an awkwardly forced smile. The girl's mother hesitated a second longer before nodding, seeing no other option. Sonja wished Reila could be as polite as the blonde girl. Sonja went back to her seat, gingerly climbing over the dozing large man just enough to drag her carry on out from under her seat. Reila slumped against the window, eyes squeezed shut. Sonja thought she was asleep. She'd told her daughter to pack some pull ups in her carry on, and Sonja had packed a few extras in her own in case Reila didn't listen. If Reila, as per usual, did not listen, then….well, lesson learned the hard way. Sonja made her way back to the mom and blonde girl. "Here. There's pull ups in here…" She held the carry on open so the mother could pull the pull ups out without showing all and sundry what she was removing. The girl eyed the purple pull ups her mother pulled out, then her eyes widened when she saw the thick, white rectangle. "Th-that's h-huge." She mumbled, horrified by the thickness. Her mother eyed the diaper, too. "Looks very absorbent. We have another long flight ahead, then a bus to catch…" "M-mom!" The girl whispered, her horror growing, her face paling under her embarrassed blush. "You can take whichever you like. My daughter has extra diapers in her own carry on." Sonja generously reassured them. "I'll go to the bathroom even more, and I won't drink much!" The girl shivered, her wide eyes fixated on the white, plastic, puffy, padded doom. The mother hesitated, then took just the pull ups. "Thank you so much. And thank your daughter. These are a little big, but they'll do just fine. It's a very strange coincidence. But thank you." The mother elbowed her daughter, who flushed even redder and looked down at her toes again. The tips of her purple boots smacked together as she tugged at her pink skirt again. "Th-thank you, ma'am." She whispered, fidgeting bashfully. "You're welcome. I suppose it is a little weird, but I was just in the right place at the right time. " Sonja waved off their thanks with a gentle smile then bailed back to her own seat, feeling as awkward about the whole thing as the family had looked. She was tired of bailing her own ungrateful daughter out of trouble. This polite girl was more deserving of the diapers. If Reila peed herself and wasn't prepared…well, that was her own problem. Maybe some tough love would teach Reila to be prepared or grateful for help next time. ************** Reila could not take it anymore. Stupid bladder. She was just going to have to climb over the alpine mountain of lard and risk a confrontation with her loud mouthed harpy of a mother. She stood up and tried to squeeze past the reclining fat man. She pressed into the seat in front of her, earning a harsh, "Hey! Quit pushing my seat you little brat!" from the man seated in front. "Bite me!" Reila snapped back, pushing the seat even harder. "Damn brat!" The man waited a few seconds, and slammed the seat back. Reila wobbled, knocked off balance. Her arms pinwheeled but she was tipped too far forward to catch herself; she fell, right onto the man's ample belly. "OOF!" She grunted. Warmth suddenly spurted over her crotch in a steady flow upon impact, stealing the tirade of insults she wanted to hurl at the fat man and the bastard up front. The warm, wet flood ran down her legs in a waterfall, overflowing the pathetically thin padding of her pull up. It instantly swelled, doing little to stop the damage of a full-bladder-flood. She froze in horror, staring wide-eyed. She stared with baited breath. The snoring man never woke, never even stirred. Slowly, with stiff, jerky movements, she stood up. Her pee was everywhere. On the bariatric, sleeping man. On her pants, boots, socks. Her soaked leggings stuck to her swollen pull-up. The thin, swollen padding was a visible lump on her soaked crotch. Her leggings clung, saturated from the waterfall of urine. Reila curled her toes; her socks were wet and the fur lining of her expensive Uggs squished. A yellow puddle pooled at her feet. The sleeping man's pants and abundant belly were wet where she'd landed on him. Not only had she peed herself- just like in class, in jail, in court- but now she'd pissed on a stranger! A stranger she had previously ridiculed. Reila remained frozen, brain unable to process what she'd just done. Her thoughts shut down; all she could do was stand and stare. "Reila! What have you done?" Sonja came back to her seat, halting at the unexpected sight of daughter and the huge wet spots on the sleeping man, on Reila's pants, and the puddle at her feet. Reila cringed. "It's not what you- that asshole in front! He pushed me!" Said asshole was suspiciously quiet, vindictively enjoying the little show Reila and her mother were putting on. His muffled snickers floated back to make Reila's ears burn. "He's an asshole! It's all his fault!" Sonja glanced briefly at the man peacefully playing mahjong on his tablet. The man met her questioning gaze and just shook his head then went back to his game. Most of the other passengers covertly stared, pretending to be preoccupied but secretly eavesdropping. Sonja's eyes snapped back to her wet, cowering daughter. "You peed your pants! Right through your diaper! I've been telling you to go to the bathroom, but you wouldn't listen! Now look what you've done!" At her angry voice, the large man jerked, waking with a loud snort. "I say, what's the racket?" He blinked bleary eyes, just becoming vaguely aware of his wet pants. "Did I spill something? Did my diaper leak?" As the seconds ticked by, he woke up more fully, gradually becoming aware of what was going on around him. Reila and her wet pants standing practically on top of him. In a yellow puddle. He stared at Reila's wet crotch in horrified shock. "No. You did. You peed yourself. You peed on me!!" His voice rose as he pieced the puzzling pieces together. His tone was incredulous. Sonja's face paled in humiliation at the stranger's accusation. An odd hush fell over the onlookers, but she did not notice. She switched gears from angry at having to deal with Reila's mess to excusing Reila's poor behavior. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I'll pay for the dry cleaning. It was an accident. My daughter, she's…she's incontinent. Recently. We've been trying different diapers and I'm so sorry. I'll pay for it, I really will." "Lady, I'm appalled." The man banged his beefy fist down on his armrest. "That girl has been the most obnoxious brad this entire flight and that's including the screaming two year olds! I've been biting my tongue, but she needs popped a good one!" He glowered up at Sonja, as if blaming her for Reila's bad behavior. Sonja's back stiffened. "Sir, I've apologized. I offered to pay for your clothes. There's no need to verbally attack me or my daughter. As I just told you, it was an accident. She's…she's…" Her mind reached for an excuse. She remembered the lady in neon pink velour with the screaming daughter in the huge stroller. "Special needs. Autism. She pees herself. A lot. She's….she's …incontinent! And autistic!" "I'm not buying that bullshit excuse. I'm incontinent myself. I have on a brief myself right now. While I'm not pleased with this situation, I understand better than most. But that has nothing to do with her horrible attitude. It's not why I'm pissed off. Lady, this is the village calling to say your girl is a rotten monster and you've done a piss poor job raising her." Reila shifted awkwardly. The wet padding squished from her damp jeans, urine squeezing out against her crotch. She winced. The wet patches were growing cold. Her pee soaked boots splashed and squished in her pee puddle. She wanted to die. To jump out the window. Her cheeks flamed. She did not listen to what the man or her mother said; her thoughts were consumed with her own turbulent, humiliating feelings. She peeked out through her stylishly frayed bangs. Other passengers stared at the loud, obnoxious fat man and her equally obnoxious mother. At all the wet spots. At her. She winced, closing her eyes tight. "Madam. Sir. Please allow us to assist." Two stewardesses in curve hugging, bright blue uniforms and shiny brass buttons descended. One was armed with a mop and bucket; the other held towels, wet wipes, and plastic garbage bags. "Perhaps madam would like to take her daughter to the restroom and clean up?" One stewardess politely but firmly order-suggested to Sonja. Sonja bit down on her her lip. She didn't want to deal with any of this. After eighteen years of bullshit, she was just about done. She wanted to throw her hands up and say fuck it. Let Reila deal with her own problems. She'd tried that, though- and it had landed Reila right in jail and her stuck posting bail that sucked up most of her savings. Any more fighting or arguments on this tin can would result in an emergency landing and them getting kicked off. Pissed off passengers and crew. Possible police interrogation. She did not want to explain any of this to her great grandmother. Authority figures she was used to dealing with. Uschi was a different story. The last time Sonja had seen her, Sonja was just a small girl. Perhaps that childhood fear of an imposing authority figure still lingered deep in her psyche. If they did get kicked off this flight, Sonja could not afford any other plane tickets. This was their one chance only trip. Sonja forced a tight, strained smile. "Yes, thank you." She knew the stewards had been sent to diffuse the situation. Their polite suggestions were thinly veiled commands. "Reila, come." She ordered sternly, expecting an argument. But Reila followed her quietly, head down as if afraid to look at anyone. Her pee soaked boots squished as she walked, leaving wet footprints behind. Sonja winced- those had been expensive. More expensive than she'd been able to afford, but she'd bought them anyway. No way she'd be able to replace them, and Reila would surely bitch about that, and it would just be another fight between them. "Sir, after you've cleaned up, the captain insists upon upgrading you to first class. We have an open seat left from a last minute cancelation. Would you prefer steak or lobster for your meal?" The large man took the offered bag, towel and wipes. The offer of a first class seat- well away from the pissing, screaming brat- cooled his ire off. "Yes. Lobster. Thank you." He added as an afterthought. He wiped at the pee stains with the moist towelette wipes, grabbed his carryon from under his chair. He was glad he packed a spare set of clothes for just in case his diaper leaked. He never imagined he'd get pissed on by a stranger.

When I post a chapter, I copy/paste and get the option of "remove rich text format" (or something along those lines) and that removes the bolding- but I don't always remember to do that. When it's in bold, I've forgotten to remove that formatting xD

Thank you both for commenting. CDfm- I agree; that's part of why I wanted to write from Gertrude's POV, to explore and try, in a small way to understand it. “What? No. I-” Gertrude was taken aback. Her hand fell to her side. As children, they’d been friends. A team. A dynamic, diapered duo even if Gertrude wasn’t actually diapered. Now, they were divided. Lying Nazi. Filthy Jew. Gertrude closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments to calm down. Opening her eyes, she tossed Josef’s rifle aside, far out of her reach. She’d have to come back and get it later. “I want to help you. The world’s gone crazy. I don’t know where I stand. But you were my best friend. I know I have to help you, for old times’ sake. Heidi would’ve wanted me too.” She could see the indecision on Magda’s face. Magda looked away, dropping her eyes from Gertrude’s gaze. “Would’ve?” Magda caught the past tense in Gertrude’s words, but she spoke with a distracted daze, mind preoccupied with deciding whether she could trust her old friend or not. “Heidi passed away.” Gertrude’s voice was soft. “Oh.” Magda nodded. No offer of sympathy or condolences. She took the news like it was just another everyday fact of life. Like she was used to hearing about people she knew and cared for dying. “My parents were shot.” Her voice was flat, matter of fact. Gertrude’s eyes widened. “Oh, Magda. I’m so sorr-” Magda held up a hand, shaking her head. She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to face the emotions she’d stuffed away. Silence and seconds ticked between them. Magda’s blue eyes flew up to her. “Everyone’s asleep, but you’re up?” Suspicion laced her tone. She wasn’t ready to trust Gertrude just yet. “Yeah. I’m not lying. I’m only up cuz I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Heidi- it’s my first Christmas without her. I looked out the window and saw your footprints in the snow. I thought you were the village idiot out to rob us again, so I came out to give her a good scare. Instead, you scared me.” Gertrude smiled a little at the lame joke. It fell flat since Magda didn’t know Gertrude had peed her diaper. “I’m the one who peed.” Gertrude thought the response was meant to be a joke, but Magda didn’t smile and her tone was flat. Maybe, after all she’d been through, she was incapable of smiling. “So, you’ll let me help you? We still have Heidi’s old clothes. Her-her….diapers.” She added that last part softly. She didn’t know for certain if Magda still needed diapers or not. Maybe, like Gertrude, she’d just peed herself out of surprise. Gertrude didn’t want to pry. She was also reluctant to part with her dead sister’s belongings. Magda had been Heidi’s friend, too, so... “If...if they go to anybody, it should be you.” She didn’t realize she spoke that last part out loud. “Okay.” Magda nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice. If I leave now, like this, my skirt will freeze.” She hesitated, then added. “It’ll be nice not to be so smelly.” That comment made Gertrude wonder how long Magda had been on the run, peeing herself. She held out her hand again. Magda took it, allowing Gertrude to help her up. Magda’s pee had soaked into the wooden floorboards and her ragged skirts. Gertrude smiled. Magda’s face stayed blank. Gertrude noticed Magda shivering; she offered her Josef’s coat. Magda looked at the swastika armband and shook her head in refusal. She’d rather freeze. The girls made their way back to the farmhouse.

?

"Cameron, baby, you've had quite a day. You should work with the rest of the class today.". Ms. Sweeney said then looked down at Cameron, her shyest and quietest student. She wondered why he was so fascinated with the girl, what inspired this instant attachment. "Sweetie, why did you go see Lili?" She asked gently. Cameron froze like a deer in the headlights. His binky slipped from his soft lips as he looked up at his teacher. He stared for several seconds before ducking his head shyly, unable to take the eyes on him anymore and just wanting to hide as he struggled to explain himself. He fidgeted, diaper rustling loudly. He felt two sets of eyes on him and he shrank back in his seat, hands opening and closing like a helpless infant as he tried to find what to say to them. His slim fingers found his ducky bib and he tugged on it. "I….I…". He managed to force out in a soft whisper. One little noise seemed to loosen his tongue, and he spoke a little louder. "Lili boo-boo." He resorted to the childish speech that the teachers usually expected him to employ. When he used adult speech he was often ignored or the teachers seemed confused, hearing adult talk out of an overgrown baby. Even at home, he baby babble was his primary means of communication and thus his default mode. "Lili boo boo wike mines." he lisped without his paci and pointed to Lili's side where her scar was. "Lili has a boo boo?" Ms. Sweeney asked, brow furrowed in confusion, a puzzled look on her face. He nodded his head, popping his beloved paci in his mouth and sucking noisily. "Boo boo? What the fuck- oh, you mean my scar?" Lili's face wrinkled in confusion then a look of understanding dawned when he pointed to her side. He nodded his head, paci almost slipping from his lips. She lifted her shirt, not hesitating a second to show her mutilated side. "Boo boo." He babbled as Ms. Sweeney simply stared in horrified fascination at the angry red, puckered, twisted and torn flesh. Lili kept her shirt up, letting the teacher look her fill. Across the room Mrs.Vesper watched, eyes wide and round, face full of disgust. It was expressions like hers, and voiced opinions that matched, that Cameron so feared and hated, had shredded the fragile remains his self esteem and sense of self worth. His father had been the first battering ram to rip the walls down. Yet here Liliana was, showing off her mutilated scar. He envied her audacity and bravery, wished he could be more like her, have even a shred or an ounce of her attitude. "Oh. I see." Ms. Sweeney tore her gaze away, realizing she was staring, and forced her eyes back to her diapered student. She stared more out of shock-Cameron's scars were just as bad, and covered most of his body. She was used to seeing Cameron's burn scars when she changed his diapers. She recovered herself, closing her eyes momentarily . "A tiger did it." Liliana leaned back in her seat, looking casual and relaxed, and offered her story cheerfully. This one was the truth, not another tall tale she'd made up or a joke she was telling at her own expense. "I lived in India with my gramps. He got called to the Sundarbans- basically a huge mangrove area. Lots of tigers live there." She explained on seeing the confused look on Ms. Sweeney's face. Cameron's fingers still fingered the blue edging on his bib, and he kept peeking up at her. He squirmed a little in his seat, unconsciously, and Lili wondered if he was wetting or messing himself. Such a helpless baby…such a pretty baby with soft pink lips..she wondered what they tasted like… "Jill never mentions Jack's tiger preserve." Ms. Sweeney absently reached up to adjust Cameron's bib and wiped a little bit of drool off his chin. Liliana snorted. Of course grandma Jill wouldn't mention the tiger preserve- tigers were Jack's true passion in life, and how he had met his mistress. Jack had believed Liliana when it came to who kicked the puppy, and Jill had sided with Priscilla, furthering the rift between the married couple. Jill would rather have swallowed nails than refer even vaguely to the shame of her cheating husband, especially at a society tea. "Anyway." Liliana continued. "A rogue tiger kept attacking a village- killed a bunch of men and dozens of children.Damn cat got a taste for human meat." She smirked when the teacher's eyes widened and Cameron paled, looking shocked and incredibly scared. She felt a twinge of guilt, thinking she should tone her tale down. She remembered peeking over Grandpa Jack's shoulder at the pictures of the small bodies, mangled and half eaten, barely recognizable as human. "Local authorities couldn't catch the damn cat and kids kept dying. So they called Gramps in cuz of his experience. We were gonna catch it, maybe take it back to the conservatory, but…" she trailed off and shrugged. Both Ms. Sweeney and Cameron were riveted. The other students were focused on their workbooks, Lili's voice too low to hear across the room. Mrs. Vesper had drifted closer, leaning over Leroy, pretending to watch him scribble all over the page. She was oddly still, straining obviously to hear. Lili glanced at Mrs. Vesper, catching her eye and smirking. Mrs. Vesper's face colored red and she huffed and looked away. Lili continued. "So, we were out in the jungle, tracking the rogue mankiller-" "Wait, you were with your grandfather? What was Jack thinking?" Ms. Sweeney sounded outraged and horrified. "What? Yeah, of course I was. Been helping Gramps- well, helped Asha out a lot with the tigers for years. Ever since I moved there. No way in hell I was gonna miss catching a tiger.Besides, I'd just turned 18. Not like I was still a little kid." Liliana was experienced with tiger behavior, working with them on Jack's tiger conservatory. She was appalled at the very thought of staying behind in safety while her grandpa went off on a hunt. Asha was Jack's right hand- she had started off as his secretary decades ago and became so much more. She was his personal assistant, his mistress, raised one of his grandchildren, and held his heart in her hands. Ms. Sweeney wasn't swayed; her expression was just like Jill's when Jack talked of the tigers. She clearly thought it was the height of dare-devil stupidity, courting disaster- and disaster had happened; the remains of said disaster were Liliana's mutilated side. In the teacher's eyes, Liliana was a child too eager to grow up, and Jack was a reckless, old idiot who put his granddaughter in danger. Cameron's eyes were huge and he sucked swiftly on his pacifier, transfixed by her words. With her last words, though, he was reminded of the huge rift between them. They were both 18, but Liliana was a legal adult- his grandmother still had custody of him, and he felt like a big, over grown baby. Part of him wanted to be a big boy; he knew some big boys had problems with their bladder and bowels, so they wore diapers. He could be a big boy and wear diapers. But to give up his pacifiers, his bottles, his crib…all the things that gave him comfort and made him feel safe….fear spiked through him and he shivered. The rumbling in his stomach sank lower but he didn't notice it. He squirmed, his diaper crinkling loudly. Lili glanced at him, drawn by the noise of his diaper, and smiled. "So, anyway, the vegetation was dense. Like, seriously dense. I almost stepped on this huge assed spider, so I went around the damn thing. Crouched down, ducking a branch and next thing I know- BAM" she smacked her hands together, making both of them jump. Cameron felt his soggy diaper grow wetter with a stream of warm, fresh urine. Across the room, Mrs. Vesper flinched and several students looked up in confusion at the noise. Mrs. Vesper whispered to them, telling them to go back to their work, pointing to different colored crayons and distracting them. "Something huge and heavy hits me hard and I'm in world of pain. Next thing I know. I heard a gun go off- that was my grandpa shooting the tiger. And holy shit, the pain. After that, things get blurry. I remember hearing lots of shouting and panicked voices, and someone carrying me. I passed out after that and woke up in this dinky rural hospital where the docs don't even wear scrubs. But they're used to these kinds of injuries. Gramps said I almost died from all the blood I lost, and the doc who sewed me up said some of my organs almost slid out." She finished her tale with relish. A tiger attack. That sounded…unreal. Astonishing. Something you'd read about in National Geographic or see on the Discovery Channel. But to know someone it actually happened to gave them a sense of surrealism. But the proof was right there before their eyes, on Liliana's torn up side. Lili grinned at their shocked faces. "What? True story- ask anyone at my house if ya don't believe me." "I believe you, sweetie. That…wow…that must have been terrifying." Ms. Sweeney said sympathetically. Lili shook her head. "I helped my Gramps with the tigers on the reservation. Mostly with the cubs, but a few times with the bigger ones. Shit happens- it's a risk I knew. I chose to take it. We all did. I was the idiot who bent over, making myself the perfect target with a predator nearby in the underbrush." "It's not your fault. You were attacked, the victim here-" Ms. Sweeney began, still off kilter over the sudden bomb Lili dropped. She trailed off as the girl shook her head. "Partially, it is. Ask Grandpa Jack, he'll tell you. " She finished and shrugged. "But that's neither here nor there." She smiled. "I'm alive, all my limbs are attached, so, hey, it all worked out. The tiger just gave me one hell of a love bite. Something to remember him by. Yeah?". She laughed, finishing her story with a joke. She was the only one who laughed. She frowned at the look on their faces. "Seriously. Don't take heavy shit so serious." Ms.Sweeney cleared her throat, not at all amused with Liliana's choice of words. "Liliana. Language." She reprimanded in a stern voice that usually caught her students' attention. Lili just shrugged. Cameron just stared at Lili. She seemed so unbothered by it, accepting what had happened to her. And here he was, still floundering in the choppy wake of his own tragedy, not quite able to pick up the pieces and move on with his life. And he had his scars a longer than Lili had hers. What was her secret? How did she do it? He yearned to be like her, to just laugh and shrug it off. She had been through one incident, an attack by an animal that left her scarred. His life before the burn scars was a series of emotional and physical abuse centered around his reluctance to give up his diapers, his bedwetting, all the trouble he had potty training, and his father's embarrassed rage at having a six year old son who still had accidents in his pants. His grandmother had been embarrassed, too, and sided with her son. She'd been embarrassed by Cameron's accidents. Lili had said the tiger attacking her was partially her fault- maybe Cameron was partially at fault, too, for what happened to him. His fault daddy was in jail. His grandmother, Beatrice, had never verbally blamed him, but she was not warm or caring with him, wanting at home in private to have as little to do with him has possible. In public, in front of others, where her reputation was at stake, she was caring and concerned. "Okay, so, here I am, dumping my baggage all over and I just met this baby boy.." Lili looked at him, half smiling, frying to change the subject. "So, what do you like, baby boy?" "D-duckies." He mumbled around the thick rubber nipple in his mouth. He tugged on his big bib nervously, his yellow ducky spattered with milk dribbles, cookie crumbs, and wet from drool as he sucked on his pacifier and bottles. His bib made him feel like a big baby, but it also comforted him. "Duckies, huh? Cute. I like it." Lili grinned at his scarlet blush, paci picking up speed in his mouth as he worked the rubber nipple furiously. She realized he took deep comfort from infantile things- his binky, his bib, his diapers. For him, they were emotional crutches, making him feel safe and secure and helping the fragile, damaged boy cope with the world and what had happened to him. Cameron stared down at his bib and nodded his head. "And I have to get back to the rest of the class. Will you two behave yourselves?" Ms. Sweeney addressed them both, but her gaze was focused on Liliana. The teacher knew Cameron would behave; he was her best behaved and most quiet student. Many times she wished he'd interact with the other students more. Wanted to see him act, instead of react- he only played with the other regression students when one of them approached him, or one of the teachers prodded him to. This was why she was letting Liliana so much free rein; she probably shouldn't, but Cameron was responding to the interloper. Cameron peeked up at his teacher and nodded his head silently. Ms.Sweeney believed him, he was always such a good little baby. The girl grinned, the snake bites in her lower lip moving as her lip twitched. "Yup! Good as gold." Lili, the teacher had her doubts on. She was one to keep an eye on. Before she left, Ms. Sweeney opened up their work books to the correct page. She drifted away and began checking the progress of the other students while Mrs. Vesper looked relieved not to have her hands so full. Lili stared at Cameron, who fidgeted with his baby blue sleeves and stared down at the ducky on his bib. She figured the word 'boo boos' in his toddler speech, meant scars. Without a doubt, this was the scarred boy she'd heard other students gossiping about in the normal classes. Boo boos like mine. His words echoed in her head, bouncing around her skull. This pretty, girly diaper boy had scars. They must be pretty fucked up if his scars were anything like hers. She stared openly as Cameron fumbled with the thick pencil made for little, clumsy hands with unrefined motor skills. His cheeks blazed in a bright blush and he sucked noisily on his paci. Some more drool slid down his chin and plopped onto his bib, but he didn't notice, never taking his eyes off the paper but his pencil never moved. She picked up her carton of milk, which was no longer very cold, and opened it, taking a long drink. It was sweet with a hint of chocolate. American milk wasn't too bad but she missed the thick, creamy milk they'd had in India, fresh from the cow or goats. She wanted to ask Cameron about his scars but figured that would upset the boy- and she'd already upset him enough for one day. She wanted him to trust her, and if she kept making him cry she'd destroy that. Cameron stared at his paper without seeing it. Once again he felt intimidated by the girl with pierced purple lips. She was so comfortable with her scars, could talk about them so openly with strangers. Her scars didn't come with the shame that his did, which was why he was still so traumatized by it. His permanent punishment for having an accident in his pants. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and shoving those thoughts away as he tugged on his bib. He opened his eyes and peeked at Lili. He saw her pick up her milk carton and he impulsively grabbed his sippy cup, raising it up in a silent cheers. Her face looked so serious- he wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe her scars? She saw what he did and grinned her approval, holding her milk up. That amused half smile and gesture made his pulse speed and a wave of warmth washed over him as his heart skipped a beat. He wished Mrs. Vesper had put a bib on her- it would make him feel like she belonged in his world, and maybe she'd be easier to approach. As she drank from the carton like a big girl, Cameron imagined her in a diaper and bib like him. Maybe then she wouldn't be so scary or intimidating. Cameron sat his fat pencil down and grabbed his sippy cup with both hands just like an overgrown toddler. "Cheews?" He lisped softly, voice growing shy as he boldly asked her. She raised an eyebrow, a little surprised, causing him to blush. She touched her cardboard carton to his plastic cup. "Cheers." He smiled and touched his back to hers then spat his binky out to suck on the sippy cup's plastic lid. The blue ribbon and ducky clip caught his binky; it dangled against his chest and some saliva dripped from the rubber nipple. The phone on Ms. Sweeney's desk rang. She bustled over to pick it up."Hello?" she said, surprised by the Indian accent. Cameron and Lili finished their milk. He peeked at her; she didn't have a drop of milk on her lipstick coated lips. Drops of milk clung to his own lips; he licked his lips, trying to catch the drops, then used his bib to wipe his face. He'd never done that before, but he wanted to show Lili he could be something of a big boy. He wasn't a completely helpless baby. He lowered his eyes back to his worksheet, feeling self-conscious. He never paid much attention to his messy face; his caretakers always wiped his face and his hands. Wiping his own face made him feel like a big boy. He picked up the big, childish pencil and stared at his work book. It was a simple counting exercise. The page had pictures of fruits arranged in variously numbered groups. Below each picture was a blank line where students had to write the number of fruit on the lines.Then they got to have fun coloring the pictures in. His tummy rumbled some more, the rumbling working its way lower. He scrunched his nose and wriggled in his seat, thick, wet diaper crinkling noisily. His soggy padding grew warm and soggier as he peed, the huge diaper absorbing his urine without him even realizing he'd wet himself. "Ugh, I really feel like a big baby." Lili looked down at her work book and oversized pencil, lips curled in disgust. Her patience was starting to wear thin. She wasn't making much progress with the burned, diaper wearing boy. She'd almost rather be in detention or in-school suspension with Mr. Witherspoon lecturing her in his haughty, dry voice while she tuned him out. The only authority figure she truly listened to was Asha, her grandfather's personal assistant and long-time mistress. Asha didn't lecture, holler, or punish- she wanted to talk. More precisely, she wanted Liliana to do the talking. Asha was able to see right through her bullshit and always somehow just *knew* where Lili was and what she was up to. Asha was calm, patient, relentless as a tiger stalking its prey and her words could slice open with the accuracy of a surgeon's scalpel. Cameron glanced at her and winced at her term and tone, feeling like he'd been kicked. Did she think he was just a big, oversized, stupid baby? She seemed so nice, but was she secretly laughing at him? Old doubts and fears gnawed at his insides, making him feel queasy. Memories of being tormented by Priscilla- Liliana's cousin- rose up from the depth of his mind and made him wonder if Liliana would make fun of him, hurt him, like her cousin had. He trembled, fumbling with his binky as he popped the soothing rubber nipple back in his mouth. Lili had been so nice to him, and her feelings seemed so genuine; he truly felt he was making a new friend. She made him feel safe, that he could trust her. She'd never hurt him. Would she? "This is ridiculous." She sneered, ready to whip out her phone back out. She was getting tired of playing nice big girl with the overgrown babies. But she needed to work on gaining Cameron's trust for what she had planned. A little bit of revenge on her cousin, and Cameron was the perfect pawn, a gift horse that had popped up unexpectedly. She planned to use him unwittingly- if her plan worked right, Cameron wouldn't know what happened- he might even enjoy it, while Priscilla would be the one tormented… Cameron copied her earlier action and laid a timid hand brazenly on her knee, stopping her grumbling tirade with a feather light touch. "Camwin stewpid baybee?" He lisped in his toddlers babble he'd been trained and encouraged to use. His voice trembled, thick and soft with unshed tears. Liliana froze. Cameron had heard her, and her words had hurt him. She shook her head, struggling to clear her mind of the dark thoughts that consumed her, that had been eating at her heart and soul ever since she was a little girl who caught her bratty cousin kicking a helpless puppy. She forced a crooked, awkward smile in a vain attempt to reassure him. "Um..no, of course not. You're in the regression program, that's all. I'm not." Cameron shook his head. She did see him as a big baby. His eyes burned and he looked down, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. She watched, staring as the wet drops splashed onto his ducky bib. An image of wet, red drops splashed onto shiny, leather mary janes flashed in her mind. Priscilla would have killed that puppy, kicking it to death, if Liliana hadn't caught her. Would Priscilla have kicked this fragile, beautiful boy until he bled, too? Seeing him cry made Lili feel like she'd kicked him, not physically, but emotionally. Like his soul was bleeding. "Cameron. Baby. Shh. Don't cry." Liliana dropped into a crouch, one knee pressing into Cameron's jean covered calf. Even through the dense fabric, she could feel the bumps and ditches of severe burn scars instead of smooth, even flesh. Just a simple touch gave a small inkling to the horrors hidden by his clothes. She took his soft, slim hands in her own. The metal from her skull ring was warm and heavy as it pressed into his skin when she squeezed his fingers. Cameron squeezed his eyes shut, tears trickling down his cheeks as he sucked on his paci. The rubber nipple filling his mouth stifled his soft little whine. Unlike previous times, her touch failed to comfort him. She just didn't want to deal with a bawling big baby, so she sought to keep him from crying. He shivered, tears falling faster and ducked his head lower. His diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted his slight weight in his seat. He was so used to the noise of his crinkly diapers he never noticed it, but now it crinkled loud and clear in his ears, echoing in the gap between them. "Keep that up and I'll have to kiss you." Her forehead touched his, her voice low and rumbling by his ear. He gasped, jerking back in surprise and shock making her words slip over his head. His pacifier slipped from his parted pink lips and tears clung to his long, inky lashes. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she gazed up at him. Whatever dark shadows had lurked there moments before were gone. Her purple lips with metal snake bite spikes twisted in a cajoling smirk, tempting him into smiling back at her. The pressure of her hands on his held him rooted to the spot. "Cameron. Baby. You are a baby." Her tone was light and teasing, but he didn't respond. He just continued to stare at her with wide, teary eyes. His heart sunk with confirmation that he was just a joke, just a..big, stupid baby to her. she was one of the normal kids, and she saw him the way the rest of the normal kids saw the regression students- or any student in a special education program. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm just joking." She cajoled, shaking his hands slightly. Her tone turned serious and she stared deep and unblinking into his eyes. "I don't think any less of you for being here. I get it. It helps you cope with whatever the hell you've been through. Heard you've been through hell. I get it. I'd never laugh at you for it." Cameron wavered, his plump lower lip trembling. He bit down hard on it, sucking the soft flesh. Her sincerity felt genuine and his instincts to trust her warred with the memories of torment and bullying he'd experienced at the hands of regular students. Liliana's peers. He wanted to trust her. He really did, but he was terrified. "You wanna laugh at me for this?" She released one of his hands and pointed to her scarred side. Cameron's eyes widened further and he swiftly shook his head. Her hand caught his feminine chin in mid-shake, gently but firmly holding it still and forcing him to look at her. "I'd never laugh at you for that. We're cool, yeah?" He whimpered softly and nodded his head. He felt like an idiot for doubting her. She wasn't like the others. Not as different as he was, but she was different enough to understand. Staring into her eyes, he knew he could trust her. She held his gaze a heartbeat longer before releasing his chin. Her soft, black sleeve brushed over his cheeks, wiping away his tears then she picked his paci up and poked his pink lips with the nipple. He automatically opened his mouth and accepted the paci, sucking on it. "That's a good baby." She cooed and he gave her a small smile behind the pacifier's plastic shield. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I just…lost my head for a minute. Happens sometimes." She shrugged, not sure how to explain it. "Lili?" Cameron lisped softly. "Yeah?" She watched him suck his paci, the sucking sounds almost as noisy as his crinkly diaper. "Baby? What is it?" " 's 'kay." He whispered,voice even softer as he accepted her apology and dropped his eyes back to his lap, staring down at his messy ducky bib. He wasn't used to being apologized to, and wasn't quite sure how to handle it. "Yeah. We're okay. Pretty baby." Her teasing tone was back as she tapped the button on his pacifier. She sat back down, scooting her chair closer to his and pulling the box of crayons closer to him. He had already counted and numbered all the objects on the page. All he had to do was color them in. She handed him a blue crayon to color in the group of blueberries. Her fingers brushed over his as she laid the crayon in his hand. He blushed at the caress, shy again now that he was no longer emotionally distraught. "Lili, please come here." Ms. Sweeney's sweetly voiced command floated across the room. Back to the teacher, Lili rolled her eyes. "I'll be right back, baby. You ok?" Cameron nodded. As Lili stood, she whispered close to his ear, "I meant what I said about kissing you." He froze, entire face cherry blossom pink as her words echoed in his head. 'Keep that up and I'll have to kiss you.' His heart thumped awkwardly in his chest and he squirmed, diaper crinkling. His stomach did funny little flip flops. He knew what a kiss was, recalled the adult things his therapist had taught him in his therapy sessions back when they were getting ready to mainstream him. He knew kissing from some of the movies his grandmother watched on TV. But he had never been kissed. His therapists and doctors had taught him to recognize bad touching- the kind of touching his caregivers were NOT allowed to do- and about the kind of special touching adults did when they were in love. He found it all very confusing. He sat there, staring down at his paper without really seeing it. He'd never thought about being kissed before. It was just something characters on TV did, like in that soap opera his afternoon nanny liked to watch, when he was home from school and supposed to be taking a nap. Most times he just laid quietly in his crib while she sat in the rocking chair with his TV turned on. The characters in there liked to kiss and touch each other a lot. Grandma Beatrice said sexual touching like that was only for husbands and wives, but characters did that with a lot with people they weren't married to. Overhearing conversations between adults, such as his grandmother gossiping on the phone or the nannies talking when they changed shifts, or the cleaning ladies around the house had taught him that special touching was not just for husbands and wives, but husbands and wives were the only ones supposed to do it. He thought the whole thing confusing and ridiculous and best left to the grown ups. But now her words made him wonder…what would her lips feel like against his? Would his lips turn purple from her lipstick? He pressed a hand to his mouth, feeling the plastic paci guard and button. He giggled as he pictured himself with purple lips. "Cameron, sweetie? What are you doing?" Mrs. Vesper swooped down. He looked up at her, still smiling, and patted his ducky bib. "Woof! Woof!" He giggled again. The way she acted to Lili still unnerved him; he wasn't ready to warm back up to her just yet. He'd never seen either of his teachers act like that. He felt a small, flickering urge of rebellion flare. For once, he didn't squash it. She smiled. "Silly baby, that's a ducky. Here, color in the pretty pictures." She cooed and picked up his crayon. He sighed, his stomach rumbling some more as he picked up his crayon. He barely noticed the funny feeling in his tummy, not even registering that soon he would be sitting in a messy diaper. He took the crayon and started to color a bunch of bananas blue. "No no, sweetie. Bananas are yellow. Can you find me a yellow crayon?" Mrs. Vesper corrected gently. Cameron sat his big, fat blue crayon down and picked up a green one, holding it up to her. She sighed. He sucked his paci harder to hide his smile and a little bit of drool plopped down his chin and onto his bib. "That's green. You need yellow. Y-E-L-L-O-W. Yellow." She repeated, voice still sickly high and sweet but tinged with exasperation. He sat the green crayon down and stared up at her. While he was debating his colors, Mrs. Vesper looked over her shoulder, checking on the other students. "Leroy! No!" She said sharply, turning and rushing off. "Spit it out! We do NOT eat the crayons, young man." She reprimanded, swooping down on him to pull out the crayon sticking out of his mouth. Lili strolled over to Ms. Sweeney's desk. Her face revealed nothing of what she felt inside, her stride casual and relaxed. She leaned against Ms. Sweeney's desk, smiling at the teacher's disapproving scowl as she handed her the phone. "Yo." Ms. Sweeney sat at her desk, keeping one eye on her students and her other eye and ears on Liliana, blatantly listening in. "Liliana." Lili wasn't surprised at heavy Hindi accent. She figured it was Asha calling, just to let her know she knew where she was. Asha always knew everything. She was the one who had raised Lili once Jack took her back to India with him. Grandpa Jack was fun and wild, but he was preoccupied with running his business and investments. Asha was just as shrewd as Jack; sometimes Lili had overheard Asha being called the power behind Jack. He'd let Liliana run wild as she pleased. Asha had rarely curbed Lili, since she had never responded well to the discipline that curbed most children. Asha did not hit, yell, or lecture. She talked- or, rather, she had Liliana talk. Asha was all relentless warmth and understanding. She was relentless in her patient teaching- she would back off, let Lili's hot head cool off then catch her off guard with another talk, and another. Then, later down the road, situations seemed to pop up that tested whether or not Lili had learned her lesson. Lili could never prove it, and Asha would never admit it, but Lili had always suspected Asha was behind the incidents. Asha was subtle; sometimes Liliana doubted her suspicions of her grandfather's lover. Yet it was odd that things always seemed to go Asha's way. It might take time, but Asha always, always got what she wanted just how she wanted it. Lili had asked her about it once, and Asha had just smiled and said the universe worked in mysterious ways, or one of the many Hindu gods had blessed one of her prayers. "Dadiji." Liliana sighed into the receiver, using the Hindi word for paternal grandmother, since Jack was the father of Liliana's father. Asha had long ago convinced Lili to call her that through subtle reinforcement and encouragement until to a young Lili it had seemed like it was her own idea. It was Asha's way of marking Lili as hers- and a not so subtle dig at Jack's wife Jill. It also helped Lili to think of Asha as family. Asha was not Jack's legal wife, but she was the one who held his heart, and had one of his granddaughters. "Just wanted to call and say have a good day, baby girl." The Hindi words rattled swift and sweet toned down the line then Asha hung up. Liliana hung up, plunking the receiver into the cradle. She froze, her mind racing with several suspicions. Baby girl. It could mean nothing, it could mean several things- with Asha, one could never tell or be prepared. Asha clearly knew Lili was in the regression therapy room, so she could just be teasing Lili. Or she knew about the diapers in Lili's closet; super thick, plastic backed, super crinkly pink diapers with rattles and hearts on them. Big baby diapers. If she had found the diapers, then she probably knew what Lili was planning. Asha always knew. The question was- what would she do? Liliana knew she had to tread carefully. "Lili? Everything all right?" Ms. Sweeney asked as Lili just stood there, staring down at the phone, frozen like a statue. Her face gave away nothing, and the teacher found her hard to read. "Huh? Yeah. Just admiring your telephone- so slim and smooth." Liliana spoke with such dead sincerity Ms. Sweeney actually believed her for a moment before realizing something serious and major had occurred during that brief conversation. She had heard Asha's voice perfectly since the volume was turned up, but the woman had spoken in fast Hindi and Ms. Sweeney hadn't understood a word. "Oh. How….odd…" Ms. Sweeney struggled for words. "Yeah, ain't it?" Lili laughed, but it was a dry sound. "Lili, I know I'm not your actual teacher, but…well, if you ever need to talk, I'm always here." Ms. Sweeney said sincerely. "Nah, it's cool. I'm good." She pushed herself off of the desk and started to walk back to her seat. Not breaking stride, she muttered over her shoulder, "Thanks though." Ms. Sweeney just watched her go. The girl was far too comfortable with lying for the teacher's comfort. She wondered what it would take to break a spirit like Liliana's. Even the most stubborn and willful of individuals would break under intense duress. Ms. Sweeney had a gut feeling that Liliana would break in all the wrong ways like a wild animal that refused to be tamed and only became more unpredictable and violent until it had to be put down. That thought reminded her of something Jack once said when he crashed one of Jill's Society Teas, about how some animals would gnaw their own leg off rather than be caught in a trap. Cameron swiveled in his seat, watching Liliana as she oh-so-casually leaned against the teacher's desk. The thick padding swaddling him was warm and moist, nearly saturated, but he didn't notice. He worked the rubber nipple in his mouth, a few dribbles of drool plopping onto his plastic-backed bib. He stared at Lili, wondering what was going on. He saw her stiffen and was worried. What could phase the girl who mouthed off to the principal and who challenged Mrs. Vesper? The girl who flashed her scars like she didn't give a damn what anyone else thought; she almost seemed to enjoy causing them discomfort. Then the moment was gone and she seemed normal again. Almost- her eyes were too focused, as if she was deep in thought as she sauntered back over to him, curved hips swaying. She didn't even notice him staring at her, and it made him comfortable enough to keep blatantly watching. Even the way she walked was out of place here. Once again, Cameron found himself wishing she wore diapers like he did. Wished Mrs. Vesper had put the Elmo bib on her. Anything to make her a part of his world. Maybe the principal was calling, saying he was coming to collect Lili. The phone call was just a reminder Lili was a visitor, and he would only know her temporarily. The thought made him want to cry, and he wasn't sure why. Lili was just so confusing. He sucked the rubber nipple swifter and blinked until his vision was no longer blurry with tears. "Hey baby, what's wrong?" Lili plunked back down in her seat as if she didn't have a care in the world and leaned in close to Cameron. Cameron shook his head and forced a small, weak smile behind his binky. He looked back down at the paper and pictures he still had to color in. "Cameron." Lili chided and he winced, squeezing his eyes closed and shifting in his seat, soaked diaper crinkling loudly. He shook his head and stared down at his lap, at the huge diaper bulge that forced his legs apart. A few snaps had popped open again, but he didn't care. "Baby." Lili softened her voice and tugged on his bib, gently prodding him. "Tell me what's wrong so I can make it right, yeah?" "L-Lili go bye-byes?" He asked in a soft lisp around the rubber nipple that filled his mouth. "Huh? Am I leaving? Not yet, baby boy. Not yet. In a hurry to get rid of me?" She joked, laughing and trying to get him to smile. Cameron whined softly, shaking his head in a silent no. Lili sobered up. "Asha was just checking up on me. I'm not leaving yet baby. You really don't want me to go, do you?" Cameron's cheeks blazed bright pink and he shifted nervously and diaper crinkling loudly. Lili poked his damp ducky and he squeaked. "Well?" "L-Lili s-st-ay." He lisped out, staring down at his diaper bulge. He shook slightly, feeling raw and exposed. "You're adorable, baby." She laughed and leaned in. Cameron's face burned hotter and he shyly leaned back, diaper rustling noisily. "At some point I'm gonna have to go." She watched his head lower sadly, then she poked the ducky bib covering his chest again. Her finger hit a wet patch- either milk dribbles or drool from his binky, and she suppressed a cringe. She slid her finger down the ducky, wiping it on a patch of dry terrycloth. "Hey, don't be sad. I'm gonna be around for a while." Cameron shook his head. She wasn't going to be in his classroom for today and even then who knew how much longer. After she left, he was sure he'd never see her again. "You really did have fun with me, yeah baby?" She grinned. "I had fun with you, too. I'm gonna talk to your grandma about a babysitting gig. Won't that be fun?" Her tone teased and cajoled as he sucked his paci. Would his grandma allow her to babysit him? He already had several professional nannies with training in regression therapy, so he doubted Grandma Beatrice would approve. Even if she needed someone, he knew she would turn Lili down at the first sight of her. "Cameron?" Lili gently prodded at his downcast face. "Gwanma say no." He lisped sadly. He wasn't sure how having Lili as his caretaker would go, and he was slightly intimidated and scared by that unknown factor. Also excited about it. She didn't see him as just some big baby, and thought rules were made to be broken. She was wild, exciting, and with her own body scarred and attitude, he did not fear she would be disgusted by his own. None of those things meant she was reliable or knew how to take care of a baby. Lili could see the worry in his eyes, in the way he worked the rubber nipple filling his mouth. She laid one fingertip in the middle of his paci guard. She pressed gently, forcing the shield against his lips and making him stop his sucking motion. "Silly baby. You let me worry about all that. I'm one hell of a baby sitter when I wanna be, and I've got experience changing big baby diapers, too." She grinned, trying to be reassuring but her eyes glinted wickedly at the last part. Cameron shivered involuntarily and wondered what was going through her head. "I'll take good care of you, little baby." She winked, then plucked the pacifier from his lips. He whined softly in protest; she held the nipple out a few inches in front of him, making him lean towards her to get it. Cameron blushed but leaned forward, wanting the comfort of his paci. His lips closed over the rubber nipple just as her face darted forward close to his own. His eyes widened and he quickly pulled back, teeth clamping down on the nipple and taking his paci with him. His cheeks blossomed bright pink. "Ah, you really are cute." Lili laughed as she leaned back, resting one elbow on the table as she shifted position. Cameron changed positions as well with a loud rustle, making her grin widened at how noisy his diapers were. The movement caused her bladder to twinge. With all her socializing and troublemaking in the halls, she hadn't been to the bathroom since she left her grandparents' huge house for school. Everything she'd drunk since then was catching up with her. She grimaced; she needed to go to the bathroom. "Liwi?" Cameron lisped when he saw her face twist. "It's cool. Just gotta piss. I'm fine." She shrugged and grabbed a fat, yellow crayon then handed it to him. "The other kids are all coloring." "Oh. Tank yew." He said in his usual toddler lisp; he was so used to using it it was easy to slip back into. He took the yellow crayon and colored the bananas in while wondering what it felt like to use the potty like a big boy. He looked up at the big plastic potty training chairs along the far wall, which were out in the open so the teachers could supervise and easily assist the students that had progressed enough for potty training. He whimpered softly and shuddered as an unbidden memory from his brief time potty training sprang up. He hated potties, always had. Diapers made him feel safe and protected. He couldn't wet his pants with a diaper on. At six years old, he was barely potty trained, which had only brought his father's wrath down upon him. He whimpered again. "Oi. Cameron. Baby." Liliana laid her hand on top of his; she could see him shaking. "Hey. Cameron." She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he jerked, startled, and looked at her with huge eyes. "Baby, what's wrong?" "B-bad thowts." He whimpered, closing his eyes. She rubbed his fingers and frowned, wondering what had upset him. "The potties? They scare you?" He nodded. She bit her lip and snorted to hide her laughter. Did he think potties were monsters? Then she remembered a rumor she'd heard, about how 'Freddy Kreugar' got so covered in burns. Something about him being a late potty trainer, him shitting his pants and his father throwing him into a tub of scalding hot water after cranking the temperature on the water heater all the way up. "Cameron." she said softly. "You're safe. I'm right here; I'll protect you. You got your diapers to protect you, too. You're just a baby; it's alright." Her touch on his hand was gentle and he slowly relaxed at the soothing caresses. "No potty monster is gonna get you when I'm around." she whispered in a gentle tease and he smiled a little, dropping his crayon to latch onto her fingers. "What are you two doing? Touching like that is against school policy, and I saw you take his binky a few moments ago." Mrs. Vesper pounced. She loomed above their table, hands on hips and glaring down at Liliana in triumph after sneaking another peek at Ms. Sweeney, making sure she was still preoccupied with changing a diaper. Liliana tilted her head up with an insolent smile at the teacher's aide. "Yo. Just can't get enough of my pleasant company, eh? Cameron here just dropped his crayon; I was helping him color in the lines. He had a lot of drool on his binky, so I aired it out for him a little bit." Mrs. Vesper stared, as if trying to goad Liliana into rising. Cameron sucked on his paci and squeezed Lili's fingers in a terrified death grip; Lili stayed seated, not wanting another repeat of earlier when she'd upset Cameron. When Lili didn't rise to the bait, Mrs. Vesper looked momentarily disappointed before smirking and bending to lean over the table. "You may slither past others with your lies, but I got your number, Liliana. I'm writing you up on a disciplinary report for bullying a regression student. You're not getting away with anything." Liliana just shrugged with a "do it, I dare you" Cheshire cat smile on her purple lips. "N-NO!" Cameron's wobbling outburst even surprised himself. Lili and Mrs. Vesper stared at him with wide eyes, the other students looking, too. "Camwin howwered!" Leroy shouted in surprise; he'd never heard the other boy raise his voice. Ms. Sweeney pulled the student's pants back up and hurriedly plopped him back down in his seat before rushing over once again to intervene. Mrs. Vesper swiftly took several steps back as if she hadn't done anything wrong. Ms. Sweeney locked eyes with her for a moment in warning then she knelt down besides Cameron, laying a gentle hand on his back. "Cameron, sweetie. What's wrong?" She asked in a gentle coo. "L-liwi g-good g-giwl." Cameron lisped, trembling. He'd hollered, something he was taught good babies did NOT do. His vision blurred as he was on the brink of tears. "Why is she a good girl?" Ms. Sweeney gently prompted. "Liwi hewp me cowor." He sniffled, voice growing softer. Ms. Sweeney looked at the crayon laying under Cameron's hand, the one that clutched onto Lili's fingers as if her hand was his favorite plushy. Then she looked at Lili, who just shrugged and smiled sweetly with a glance at Mrs. Vesper. Ms. Sweeney followed that gaze and glared at the teacher's aide, who shrank back. "Were you crying because Lili helped you?" Ms. Sweeney asked gently. Cameron shook his head and peeked at his teacher, who just looked at him expectantly. He was too terrified to even glance at Mrs. Vesper. "Liwi n-no take off me. Liwi shawe wif me." His voice was barely audible, a toddler's shy lisp muffled by his binky. He scooted closer to Lili, diaper rustling noisily. He gripped Lili's hand tighter. "Lili shared with you? She helped you?" Ms. Sweeney asked in her honey sweet coo, just for clarification. Cameron nodded his head. "I see. She is being a good girl. Can you color your pretty pictures for me?" She asked to distract him. "Liwi hewp?" He asked fearfully, wanting to make sure she was staying at his side. Liliana may not have cared if she was in trouble or not, but Cameron was terrified of disobeying. "Yes, Lili can help you." Ms. Sweeney stood up and handed Cameron his yellow crayon. He refused to let Lil's fingers go to take it. "Boo?" "You want blue bananas?" Ms. Sweeney stared in puzzlement, figuring Cameron was feeling upset and moody. She made a few mental notes to write down in his folder. "Okay, sweetie.Here you go." She picked up his blue crayon. Cameron took it, never once looking at Mrs. Vesper. He didn't know why she hated Lili so much, but it scared him. He sucked his paci and shyly peeked at Lili. "Hewp? Peese?" All this time, Liliana had stared at Mrs. Vesper with a silent, teasing smirk and held her tongue to keep from upsetting Cameron. "Eh? Oh, help you color. Got it." She grinned and cooed like she was babysitting a toddler. Ms. Sweeney watched them for a few moments as Cameron held the huge blue crayon while Lili laid her hand on top of Cameron's, guiding his hand and coloring the bananas blue. Ms. Sweeney turned to Mrs. Vesper and the syrupy, sappy ever-patient smile left her face. She stepped closer to the shorter, older woman. "You and I need to talk. Now." She hissed softly. Mrs. Vesper puckered her lips in a sour pout but nodded, too afraid to back talk her superior. She followed Ms. Sweeney over to the teacher's desk. As she passed, Liliana looked up with her teasing smirk, her free hand waving. Mrs. Vesper sneered at her. While Ms. Sweeney berated Mrs. Vesper at her desk, hissing quietly while the teacher's aide sulked silently with her back to Liliana. Lili, however, wasn't interested in the teachers. She stared at Cameron, still shocked by his outburst as she guided his hand. Her fingers grasped his; his slim fingers were limp under hers, barely holding onto the crayon as she did the coloring for him. He stared down at the blue bananas, feeling her steady gaze as he sucked on his paci for comfort. "Cameron. You didn't have to do that-" She cut herself off as she felt him flinch, his dainty hand trembling under hers. "I mean, I'm a big girl, I can handle it. But, thank you." "No fight." Cameron dared to peek up at her, his sweet cheeks still a lingering pink. Part of him was still shocked at what he had done. He was sure he was in trouble for speaking up and shouting. He hoped he wasn't going to get a spanking. He could hold himself together as long as Lili was here to distract him from his thoughts. "You really don't like fighting, do you, baby boy?" Cameron shook his head and looked back down at his workbook. How he hated fighting, and raised voices. It brought back too many memories and fear of his father. Hearing screaming and yelling made him feel like a little boy with wet pants again, his angry father looming over him, snarling and yanking him by the hair. Making him re-live that whole horrid, life-changing night again. He shivered and sucked on his paci. Lili squeezed his hand gently and finished coloring the bananas then started shading them, making the outer edges a darker blue. "No fight. Liwi pway wif Camwin?" He lisped shyly, peeking back up at her, watching the spiked snakebite piercings glint under the artificial lighting as she laughed. "Of course, baby boy. And when I babysit you, we'll really get to play together." The warm promise in her tone made him smile. She sounded so certain she made Cameron believe her. Maybe Liliana knew something about Grandma Beatrice he didn't? Or maybe she had a plan to make Beatrice say yes to babysitting him? The task seemed quite impossible to Cameron, but he believed Lili could make it happen. Once the bananas were all colored and shaded, Lili took the crayon and put it back in the little cardboard box. "So, baby boy, why blue bananas?" Cameron blushed, feeling little and silly. Mrs. Vesper had wanted him to color the fruit in yellow, the color it should be. Maybe Liliana's attitude was rubbing off on him, inspiring the normally docile and pliant diaper boy into a modicum of defiance. He hadn't liked the way Mrs. Vesper acted with Lili. It both frightened, intimidated and upset him, undermining his trust in the teacher's aide. Refusing to use yellow was childish, but it was a small channel for his frustrations. Plus, today had been a crazy day since Liliana with her skulls, scars, and spikes first strolled through that door. She was so confident, like she believed anything was possible. Soon she would walk back out, fading like a dream. Part of him wanted a momento, even if it just was a picture of blue bananas. "I wike boo." He lisped behind the plastic pacifier guard. Lili smiled and shook her head in amusement. "Yeah? I like blue, too. How about a purple apple?" His smile peeked out from behind his binky and he nodded shyly, watching her expectantly. Lili plucked up the purple crayon and laid it in his hand. Cameron's big eyes just continued to look at her; she shook her head, gave in with a half smile, and once more took his hand in hers, guiding it as they colored in the apple. Lili's bladder twinged. She had to piss, bad. She bit back a grimace, glancing up at the row of changing tables and the plastic potties behind it. She wasn't used to asking for permission to piss- back in India, since she had private tutors and instructors, she just went when she had to go after informing the teacher she was taking a piss break. Raising her hand in the middle of a normal class to ask for bathroom privileges. How the hell did it work in the regression room? Her eyes darted once around the room. Most of the kids appeared to be just as heavily diapered as Cameron. She snorted. Not much need for a bathroom when the class majority were wearing theirs. Diapers were convenient- just go whenever and no one would know you were going. For a moment, she almost wished she had a diaper on as well, then shook her head. The back of her neck pricked with the heat of a searing gaze; she glanced over her shoulder and saw Mrs. Vesper stalking away from Ms. Sweeney and shooting the interloper a venomous glare. It's on, you old bat. Lili thought with a savage snarl. She would put her in her place right here and right now. Without any more thought or hesitation, Liliana raised her hand. "Yes, Lili?" Ms. Sweeney called out as she looked over Leroy's shoulder, checking his work. "May I please use the potty?" Lili asked just a sweetly, like she was a well-behaved, charming little girl. Inwardly, she cringed at the juvenile word. Cameron looked up at her with wide eyes Ms. Sweeney stood up and hesitated, torn in indecision. Regression students did not use the same bathroom as the regular students, Liliana was supposed to stay in the room….but she was not a regression student. But she had agreed to abide by the classroom rules…. "You should just diaper her up for what she did to Cameron." Mrs. Vesper muttered loudly as she checked other students' work. She quieted down at Ms. Sweeney's frosted glare. "I didn't bring my diapers, and I'd hate to take any from those that truly need them. It'd feel weird, like borrowing a stranger's underwear. Plus, soon as I'd finished, I'd need changed and that would just be a waste of diaper. So, potties up there. It's cool, yeah?" Liliana spoke up as she stood up and looked directly at Ms. Sweeney, who still dithered in indecision. "I…suppose…that's alright. I..could come hold a towel up for you, for more privacy, if you like." She offered awkwardly. Liliana almost accepted, half tempted to say yes until she saw the smirk on Mrs. Vesper's pudgy face that said she would enjoy watching her humiliated. Besides, she was putting on a show for one person, and any privacy would ruin it. Liliana locked gazes with Mrs. Vesper and grinned. "Nah, it's cool." She strolled up to the potties, choosing a bright pink plastic one. The potties were out in the open, which when she thought about it made sense so that the teachers could supervise the regression students, when they reached a point where they were ready to be potty trained again. This was not the first time she had gone in front of others: some of the rural villages she had visited with her grandfather, people just went, no privacy needed. Then there were a few music concerts she had gone to, when her grandfather and Asha were in the States on business and wanted some alone time without Lili in the way; she had been allowed to go. Just a few small alternative music festivals where she was gone for the weekend. The portaloos had been trashed and disgusting from drunk and high revellers, so she'd just squatted down and did her business in the bushes alongside a few others- some chicks and a couple of drunk guys, one of whom had been so drunk he could not aim and pissed on a girl so high she was practically comatose. Lili squared her shoulders and pressed her tongue against the flat piercing backs, rolling the metal spikes in the holes in her flesh. She gave a cocky half smirk down at the awaiting pink, plastic seat, never forgetting she had an audience and was determined to put on one hell of a show. Pissing was a private thing, but in the rural hospital the bathroom hadn't even had a door, only the remnants of rusted hinges. .She'd had some strange dude fiddling around down there when she had got her body work done. Hell, when Asha had found out about that particular piercing she'd eventually convinced Lili to let her examine it. Lili still didn't know how Asha talked her into that one. As far as exposing her body…Lili was comfortable enough in her own skin. It was like her scar- hide it, be ashamed like Grandma Jill and her ilk would expect her to do…anger flashed through her. Oh, Grandma Jill would so not approve. Embrace it, flaunt it…Why should she *not* love her imperfections? They were just as much a part of her as her perfect parts. Lili's boots jangled a little as she turned, hoovering her clothed behind over the awaiting potty. She wriggled her hips as her bladder twinged, insisting on release. She slid her shorts down slowly as if she were in a strip show, swaying her hips back and forth teasingly and revealing small black panties trimmed in white lace and a rhinestone skull on the front. She slid the panty down to join the shorts around her ankles. Her thigh high black ripped stockings stayed up. She sat down; the plastic rim was cold and felt thin, very different from the toilets and occasional hole in the ground she was used to. She closed her eyes momentarily, concentrating and blocking out her audience. Her stream of pee hit the plastic bowl with a loud splash and slosh as she tinkled. She almost wanted to blush or squirm. She opened her eyes and saw Mrs. Vesper smirking, enjoying the smart mouthed girl humiliating herself by peeing on a baby potty. No doubt the woman would have preferred Lili diapered with a suppository to force her to mess said diaper and wearing a bib. Lili refused to give her the satisfaction. She caught the pudgy woman's eye and smirked, splaying her legs and sitting back on the potty as if she was fully comfortable. Her trimmed crotch was displayed in the process; a shiny metal ball piercing shone nestled amongst her blonde pubic hairs. She'd gotten her lady bits pierced. Her showmanship, acting like she enjoyed it, took the humiliation out of it. Mrs. Vesper's smirk faded to a scowl of displeasure and Ms. Sweeney stared in shock. The other students were coloring, not sparing the scary new girl more than a glance, as if she was just another little girl learning to go potty. Cameron watched with wide eyes, sucking on his binky and squirming. At the sound of her peeing, his soggy diaper grew wet again. He peed along with her, one in the potty, other in a diaper. He leaned forward, eyes glued to the metal piercing in her crotch. It was just like the ring in her mutilated tummy. Girls got pierced THERE? He didn't know much about piercings, except that they were only supposed to go in the earlobes. He saw plenty of girls with their earlobes pierced- Ms. Sweeney, Grandma Beatrice, and even one of the female regression students. Just like with other rules and expectations, Lili wouldn't follow them- she'd get pierced wherever she pleased. Considering that, he shouldn't be surprised. But down *there*? He shuddered and felt one last drop of pee squirt out into the damp padding swaddling him. He watched Lili pee, her gaze locked with that of Mrs. Vesper. The teacher's aide operated under order and was strict with the rules and swift with the paddle for anyone who misbehaved- she was part of the reason the regression students were so well behaved. Lili was anything but obedient, so of course the two would clash. Cameron wondered about Mrs. Vesper going against Ms. Sweeney, however subtle, in an attempt to cow Liliana. Did Lili really get under her skin that much? She seemed to get under a lot of adults' skin though. Suddenly a loud fart pushed the thick padding away from his damp bottom, and the seat if his saturated diaper was filled with a gooey, mud-like substance. He farted several times, loudly. The mess just slipped out of him and into his soggy diaper instinctively as his muscles involuntarily contracted, making him poop himself. He was too used to it to be bothered by it. He just squirmed some more. His diaper was pleasantly warm and wet, but now with a load in the back it began to feel heavy with the weight of both his pee and poop. He squirmed in his seat, slipping around in his squishy, wet mess. He hoped his diaper wouldn't leak. Leaks happened, just a part of the diaper life; they didn't bother him. He didn't want to leak in front of Lili. At least, thanks to the pills Grandma Beatrice had him take, his messy diaper didn't smell. He wriggled around, diaper crinkling as he watched Lili finish up peeing and looked around for toilet paper. Mrs. Vesper smirked. "Baby wipes-" Ms. Sweeney quickly spoke up, over riding her with a warning glare. "Flushable wipes are on the little stand to your left." A little wooden stand painted with ABC blocks stood between the two plastic, big sized training potties. Two wipe containers sat on top, one pink with Minnie Mouse, the other blue with Mickey Mouse. Liliana's cheeks tinged pink for a moment, Mrs. Vesper's eyes gloating in triumph. Lili's purple punk lips twisted into a manic grin. "Thanks, got it." She said loud and cheerful, waving the wipe at the teachers before wiping herself. She stretched her smile further into a smirk, inwardly grimacing at the wet, cool feeling of the wipe and wishing for some normal, dry toilet paper instead. Cameron sucked his binky some more and watched as Liliana stood up, pulling her panties and shorts up with a mock flourish. She finally tore her gaze away from Mrs. Vesper to look at him. His face grew hot with a fierce blush and he quickly looked down, coloring some grapes in orange. A shadow fell over him, blocking the overhead light, but he didn't look up. Ms. Sweeney knelt down. "Cameron, sweetie, let's check your diapee." Cameron looked up at her and sat his crayon down. "Diapee dwy." he babbled. He really wanted a nice dry diaper on, but Liliana was up by the changing tables, washing her hands at the sink. She might see the skin under Cameron's clothing. He shuddered, afraid at the very thought. "I'll be the judge of that. And we'll get you a new bib, you got spit up on that one, baby.".Ms. Sweeney took Cameron's wrist and tugged. He automatically stood up. She bent down, loudly popping open his crotch and onesie, poking at his obviously full and messy diaper. Cameron sucked his paci nervously, a little bit of drool splashing down onto his messy bib, his eyes glued to Liliana. She looked over her shoulder as she rubbed her soapy hands under the water, smiled and winked at him playfully. He blushed and looked down, letting Ms. Sweeney guide him. "Yupp that's one messy baby boy. Lets get you changed." Ms. Sweeney took Cameron's hand, tugging gently then leading him over to one of the changing tables- the one closest to the sink and Liliana. He whined in a soft protest as he toddled along, his waddle even more pronounced from his heavy, swollen diaper. The mess in his diaper shifted around, but he was used to it so it didn't bother him. He felt the diaper slipping down his slim hips since the teacher left his onesie and pant crotches unsnapped. Liliana took her time drying her hands every so carefully, not leaving a drop of water on them. Ms. Sweeney stopped at the changing table and eyed Liliana pointedly. Lili ignored her for a moment, staring at the blushing Cameron and the yellowed front of his well-used diaper. She glanced once at the teacher before heading back to her seat. Ms. Sweeney kept her gaze on Lili, a silent warning to behave. Lili just smiled at her. Cameron's gaze was glued to his toes, so he missed her looking at him. As she passed, she patted his thickly diapered bottom. In just one sly moment of passing, she felt the tell-tale lumps and knew he had a major load in his pants. At the brief contact, Cameron inhaled swiftly in surprise, head jerking up to stare with wide eyes at Liliana's back. She was already gone, headed back to her seat and no longer looking at him. But she'd pressed her hand against his butt, mushing his mess against him. She knew he pooped himself. Was she teasing him, or was she letting him know it was alright? Perhaps both? Cameron turned, twisting his body to try and get a look at her face when Ms. Sweeney tugged gently on his hand. "Come on, climb up and I'll get you out of that icky diapee." She cooed as she tugged. He was mid-turn when she tugged, unknowingly pulling him off balance. Cameron wobbled, legs spread far apart due to his swollen diaper. He fell, the thickness of the padding cushioning his bottom as he plopped down on his butt. Cameron's eyes widened, stunned. His mess squelched up around his crotch and he didn't know if his diaper leaked or not. He didn't care. He was more stunned than hurt, and the infantile instincts installed in him from years in the regression program took over. Tears welled up and he cried little infant mewls of distress. "Cameron. Sweetie. Shhh. It's okay, baby. You didn't get hurt." Ms. Sweeney instantly knelt, her hands gently prodding him, checking him for any bruises or cuts. She cooed gently to him. Startled fear still curled in his stomach and he continued to cry, helpless as an infant. Mrs. Vesper started to rush over, but Ms. Sweeney held up on hand in silent command and shook her head, communicating to the aide that she would handle this. Only a few of the other students glanced at him; crying babies were nothing new in this classroom. Liliana ignored Ms. Sweeney and crouched down in front of Cameron, taking both his soft hands in hers, giving his fingers a little squeeze and shake. "Cam-Cam. Cameron. Baby." Liliana cooed in a copy of Ms. Sweeney's syrup voice. "It's okay, baby. You're fine. Want me to beat the floor up for you?" Cameron sniffled, the gentle voices calming him down. He looked up at Liliana when she said something ridiculous. He sniffled and both Ms. Sweeney and Lili smiled at him. He blushed and looked down, mumbling "Sowwy." He felt bad for causing a commotion and awkward at being the center of attention. "Thank you, Lili." Ms. Sweeney said in pointed dismissal. "You okay, baby?" Lili cooed, ignoring the teacher. She picked Cameron's beloved binky up from where it dangled on its ribbon and held the nipple to his lips. His cheeks grew redder but he didn't look up, so she gently touched the tip of the rubber to his plump lower lip. He automatically opened his mouth and accepted the binky, sucking quietly. "Liliana. You may sit down now." Ms. Sweeney's tone was stern. "Tank yew." Cameron lisped out quietly, realizing Lili would go sit down again. He snuck a peek at her, saw nothing but concern in her eyes and knew she wasn't laughing at him. She smiled, nodded, got to her feet and went back to her seat. "That fall scared the baby. Lets get him into a nice, dry diaper." Ms. Sweeney cooed in her sing-song voice, taking both of Cameron's hands in hers and gently guiding him back to his feet. She held onto his waist, guiding him up on the changing table and swiftly securing him in the safety strap. Ms. Sweeney popped his pants open all the way and pushed them up his chest, followed by his already open onesie. "No rug burns on his hands. No marks- he's fine, just startled from his tumble." She called out to Mrs. Vesper, who was at the teacher's desk with Cameron's file in her hand, jotting down some additional notes for his daily report. "When you're done with that, there's a few wet spots on the floor. His diaper leaked a little." She ordered Mrs. Vesper to clean it up instead of handling it herself like she normally would, as punishment for Mrs.Vesper's earlier defiance. The safety strap around his upper chest held Cameron securely to the padded, vinyl matt. He couldn't roll; all he could do was try to tilt his head back in vain effort to look at Liliana. Would she see the burn scars covering his body? With his pants and onesie open, his scarred legs and belly were on full display. He hoped she couldn't see it. She had scars, too, so she would be okay with seeing his. Right? He sucked his binky and tried to squirm. Snot still clogged his nose, making breathing difficult. "Okay, Cameron. I'm getting you out of that yucky diaper. You need to be patient. Here, let me get your nose. " Ms. Sweeney gently corrected. Cameron immediately laid still and closed his eyes, as if that would somehow shield himself from Lili's gaze. When he heard Mrs. Sweeney rummaging on the supply shelf below and did not feel the usual tug and tear of the diaper tapes, he opened his eyes to find Ms. Sweeney once more standing above him with an adult-sized infant's aspirator held up in the air. It was from his basket of supplies, labeled with his name. Cameron whimpered helplessly, sniffling with the lingering snot in his nostrils. He hated those things. It was made of blue rubber with a big ball at one end and a long, tapered nozzle. "Baby, it's okay." Ms. Sweeney crooned as the blue nozzle tip came closer to his nose. She laid a hand on his forehead to hold his head still. He whined when he felt the tip push up into his nose. Oh, how he hated this. She squeezed the bulb and he felt the suction. His snot was sucked up with a horrible squelching noise, then she did his other nostril before releasing him and cleaning the aspirator with a tissue. "Doesn't that feel better?" She chirped as she put the aspirator away. "Now, lets get you out of that diaper." He felt her tug on the tapes and heard his diaper rip open, exposing his pee and poop covered crotch. The burns cars on his legs and belly were on full display. Everyone in class knew about his scars, so Cameron was usually comfortable with his diaper changes. But Lili was here…. He turned his head side to side, craning his neck and straining for a glimpse of her. He couldn't see, and the plastic safety strap held him in place. Lili slouched in her seat, arms crossed on top of Cameron's workbook while she stared at the changing table. Cameron's head faced her, so she couldn't get a good view of his diaper change. Mrs. Vesper, still soured from Lili's little potty show, put great effort into pretending Liliana did not exist. She cleaned up the little urine puddle from Cameron's leaky diaper then rushed over when a girl in pigtails and pink dress suddenly wailed about having to go potty. Mrs. Vesper helped the girl, who barely made it, and the teacher's aide made a point to loudly praise the girl for making it to the potty, no pee pee in her pink pull up. Liliana ignored Mrs. Vesper right back, inwardly cringing at her syrupy tone of praise. Inside, she felt like a toddler who went potty. She regretted nothing. She just stared at the top of Cameron's head, looking away, down at the workbook, when Ms. Sweeney glanced in her direction. She leaned further to her right and caught a glimpse of Cameron's fecal coated behind, his bare legs spread wide and pushed up to his chest by Ms. Sweeney as she wiped the mess off him. She noticed his skin; she should've noticed immediately, but the smears and lumps of poop distracted her. His exposed skin was a mottled pink, white and red; melted, swirled and misshapen in places. Booboos wike mine. Cameron's voice echoed in her thoughts. From what little she saw, his scars were so much worse than hers. Her scars were from doing something dangerous- she knew about the risks before hand and had taken them anyway. His scars…she needed to dig around for the truth in his background. All she'd heard were rumors, and rumors were often distorted versions of the truth. She knew something traumatic happened to him when he was little more than a baby, and his father- the man who was supposed to love and protect him- had been the one who hurt him. She strained in her seat to see more of his slim body and deformed scars. She touched her side, poking her fingers into the empty ridges covered by her shirt. She should feel flesh under the cloth but felt nothing but missing meat, torn from her by the teeth of a rogue tiger. She recalled the pain and fear, but she'd never felt shame. The only thing she regretted was the tiger's death; if it had survived, she would have gotten in its cage, faced what had almost killed her. She had faced the tiger's corpse; it had helped some, coming face to face with her near-death, but it wasn't the same. She shifted her chair over while keeping an eye on Ms. Sweeney. The teacher made quick work of Cameron's poopy diaper. His legs were still spread; she had finished with the diaper wipes and was now spreading cream on him, giving Lili a clear view of his privates. The burns even covered down there. It was obviously functional- but she wondered if that was why he needed diapers and not just as part of regression therapy. Ms. Sweeney spread a very thick white cream, covering and coating his burn scars. With the heavy white ointment, his skin almost looked normal. Hairless crotch, slightly crooked guy-bits. Her gaze went up to the top of his head, surprised to see his face. . He'd somehow managed to twist around enough to look at her, straining against the restricting safety strap on his upper chest. His pretty doll eyes were with fear as he stared at her. She smiled at him and winked. Freddy Krueger. Yo, you should see this freak show. He's even more fucked up than you are. The voice of one of the normal students she'd talked to this morning echoed through her mind. The boy was infamous across school for his burns. Upon discussing her scars, several of Prissy's friends told her about Freddy Krueger, whose father had tried to boil him alive to eat him. She wondered skeptically if part of that wasn't made up. But recalling how they'd laughed about it, making jokes…her heart twisted with something she rarely felt; guilt. She wished she would've punched those assholes in the face. It was a shame about his scars-he was such a pretty boy. Too pretty to be a boy. She wasn't put off by his scars, merely curious. His scars were just as much a part of him as his pretty face, so his scars weren't a shame at all. She found herself wishing she could take away the pain he'd been put through. Cameron smiled back, looking much reassured at her gentle smile. He had his head titled back, back arched as much as the safety strap would allow. Ms. Sweeney pushed his knees further up, rotating his hips and forcing him back flat on his back, taking Liliana out of his field of vision. She positioned him over a new, clean diaper and sprinkled him with lavendar scented baby powder. She finished by pulling the front of the monstrous diaper up, hiding his burned, cream coated crotch from view. The diaper was huge: it came well up past his belly button, to just under his sternum, and ballooned out, forcing his legs wide apart. It was standard white with Sesame Street characters on it. She tugged, struggling with the onesie and pants poppers, finally getting them shut and unstrapping Cameron. She took his hands, helping him sit up with a loud crinkle. He felt the powder shift around in his dry diaper and sighed happily. "Almost done. Doesn't that feel better, baby?" Ms.Sweeney cooed at him. He sucked his paci and nodded happily. He scooted forward to slide off the changing table. She grabbed him, as if she was afraid he'd toddle off on his own and fall again. "Hold on, Cameron. You need a new bib." Ms. Sweeney fastened a big, bright yellow bib on him with a green frog. It had a terrycloth front and plastic backing that was almost as noisy as his diapers. Cameron looked down, wrinkling his nose at the bright yellow. He'd rather wear the pink Elmo bib. He poked the frog; his bib crinkled loudly. Ms. Sweeney clipped his binky back to his shirt then slipped the nipple into his mouth. Cameron sucked on his paci and tugged lightly on the bib; he heard the slight rip of velcro in response and smiled. He could rip his bib off if he wanted to, even though he never would. Maybe he could get Lili to change his bib? "Okay, you're all done!" Ms. Sweeney said in a sing song voice, taking both of Cameron's hands like he was an unsteady toddler. She tugged on his wrists and he waddled back to his table. Liliana waited with a big smile and outstretched arms. His diaper rustled loudly with every step, the thick bulk forcing him to waddle like a toddler. He sucked his paci, wanting to tell Ms. Sweeney he was okay; his fall had just been an accident. Lili watched Cameron waddle back to his seat, crinkling all the way. She pulled his chair out for him. He looked up at Ms. Sweeney as they approached. "Liwi." He lisped behind his binky. "What's that, sweetie? You want Lili?" He nodded, smiling. Ms. Sweeney hesitated a moment, then let Cameron's hands go. She was worried he'd fall again. Lili stood up, taking Cameron's hands soon as the teacher let go, and she guided him to his seat. He plopped down with a loud crinkle. A cloud of sweet scent wafted over her. Baby powder with a hint of dirty diaper. Lili leaned in close as she sat down, sniffing. "Mmm, you smell good. Like a fresh baby." He blushed but smiled with pleasure behind the plastic paci guard. Lili didn't mind his scars at all- he'd been a silly baby. She had scars, too, so of course she wouldn't judge him for them. He looked at the last picture that needed colored; a group of oranges. He peeked questioningly up at Lili then looked at the crayon box. She followed his gaze, laughing and offered him the yellow crayon. He nodded his head then colored the oranges yellow. Soon after, Mr. Witherspoon the principal, came knocking to collect Liliana again. He conversed with Ms. Sweeney, who did not let Mrs. Vesper get a word in edgewise. Mrs. Vesper held her tongue, looking like she had a very sour lemon wedged in her mouth. "Oh, yippy skippy. It's my buddy, Mr. Withereddick." Liliana chirped cheerfully while rolling her eyes. Cameron bit his lip to keep from giggling at her sarcasm. "It's been fun, baby boy, but I think its time for me to go." "Oh." Cameron deflated like a leaky balloon, heavy with the feeling he was never going to see her again. He felt tears burn his eyes and he sucked his paci swiftly. "Hey, don't cry. I already told you I'm gonna be your new babysitter. You want me to be your babysitter? Yeah?" A few tears trickled down his cheeks and plopped onto his bib; he didn't bother to brush them away. She spoke like it was so easy. Grandma Beatrice would dislike her on sight, Cameron just knew it. Even if he needed a babysitter, she would find someone- anyone- else. She laid a hand on top of his head and tapped the middle of his binky. He looked up at her, big doll eyes shimmering with tears. "Told you to let me take care of all that. You want me? Yeah?" She prompted. He blinked, a few more tears trickling down his soft cheeks, and nodded his head. She gently brushed them away and smiled. "Don't you worry, baby boy. I'll be seeing you around." She tapped his binky one more time before she was up and headed over to the principal and teachers. Cameron stared at her back as she left. He raised his hand, opening and closing it weakly in an infant's good bye. She paused at the door, looking back at Cameron and winking before leaving behind the principal. Then she was gone. Cameron stared at the door for a long moment, then looked back down at the miscolored fruit on his paper. Ms. Sweeney watched the interloper leave and the regression room was back to normal. Cameron was back to his quiet self, sucking on his binky, sitting back at his usual table with Leroy. In the small, influential social circle Ms. Sweeney floated in, she had heard all about the notorious Liliana. She had tried to take a neutral approach in her assessment of the girl and what weighed heavily in her favor was the chord of friendship she had struck up with Cameron. Even in the regression therapy room, he was quiet and a loner, and frankly, given the boy's background, it worried her. He needed someone he could connect with, and Ms. Sweeney wondered if Liliana just might be that person. Liliana fluffed a vase full of fragrant, brightly colored tigerlilies. The blue vase sat on a nightstand by Priscilla's bed. Gone was her post four poster canopy with curtains; it was replaced by a medical bed. The railings were up to keep the brain damaged beauty from falling out. "Dear cousin, just look at you. Such a pity." Lili tsked in false pity then grinned like the Cheshire cat. Prissy's unfortunate accident would not rob her of her vengeance. Lili had an old, bloody score to settle with her cousin. Prissy had already lost everything she held dear and had taken for granted- her popularity, her health, her ability to move. Her future. All gone. Some people may have called it fate. Divine karma for all the horrible things she'd done, especially to Cameron. Justice from the hand of Grandpa Jack's Christian God or Asha's Hindu deities. A tragic punishment served up on a silver platter. That was not enough for Liliana. She felt robbed, cheated. She'd wanted to take those things away herself. Destroy Prissy with her own hands. Prissy had one thing left- her tattered self dignity. Lili had been watching how the home nurses and aides treated her injured cousin. Much different than how the regression therapy nannies treated Cameron. Lili was here to trash that difference. Give Prissy a taste of Cameron's life. Shred what little remained of her dignity. Liliana loomed over the bed, almost trembling with excitement. Pissy was all hers, to do with as she liked. She stared down at her sleeping cousin, the memories that had haunted her dreams stirring. The pain-filled whimper of a tiny puppy. Shiny little leather mary janes spattered with the puppy's bright red blood. A little girl's cruel laughter. After finding Priscilla kicking the puppy, Liliana had jumped on her, yanking on her hair so hard she tore out two tiny, fist fulls by the roots. Prissy had turned the waterworks on, playing the sweet, terrified innocent while letting Liliana take the blame for the puppy. After all, who would believe bad-tempered, troublemaker Lili over sweet, obedient Prissy? Only Grandpa Jack. The old anger stirred. "I suppose I should thank you. Without that puppy incident, Gramps never would've taken me to India with him. It really did change my life. For better or worse, who knows?" She snorted derisively. "Who really gives a fuck? It is what it is, yeah? You've got a debt to pay, and I'm here to collect." She yanked the blanket covering her sleeping cousin off. The disabled, ex-cheerleader shivered. The morning home care worker had just left her shift; Lili had called and canceled the other day shift, leaving Priscilla helpless at Lili's mercy. Grandma Jill was too busy being a posh socialite to look after her now disabled granddaughter. That's what the home care agency was for. Uncle Oliver, Priscilla's father, was rarely around. Jill had disowned him long ago- he was living in London with his boyfriend after dumping his unwanted daughter on Jill's doorstep, leaving his mother to raise his daughter. Priscilla's mom had been out of the picture for over a decade. After a nasty divorce, she was living in California with her third new-money husband and no time for her firstborn child. Jill was the only one who had been there for Priscilla after her injury. At first, anyway. Until the doctors gave Jill the shattering news that her precious, head cheerleader granddaughter would never be the same again. Falling from the top of the human pyramid had traumatically damaged her brain when her skull had cracked upon impact with the ground. She would always need caring and looking after- someone to bathe her, feed her, change her wet and messy diapers. Dress her. Jill had not even done that when her two boys were babies. That's what nannies were for. Priscilla shivered, eyes still closed in sleep. Lili lowered one of the railings for easy access to her cousin's body. She found the Velcro and elastic safety restraint cuffs attached to the railings. They were for when Prissy had one of her spastic, twitching tantrums; they kept her limbs from flailing around and hurting herself or someone else. Lili fastened the restraints to Prissy's wrists and ankles. Prissy had been the ideal granddaughter- a pretty, charming, social butterfly. The queen bee of the school. And widely considered to be a bitch on wheels by most of the unpopular crowd. Lili had learned that from talking to many different students during her first week at school, though most of them had been terrified of her, too, and not just because of her purple lipstick and piercings. Lili was not surprised- she'd always known Prissy's true colors. Priscilla's glamorous life was over. There was very little the doctors, therapists and rehab could do for her. She'd only been home a few months on a home care program. She would always need constant care. Prissy had very little control of her limbs; they were as spastic as an infant's. She could still speak, but her words were all garbled nonsense. Her brain injury left her with a communication disorder called aphasia from the damaged brain tissue. She could understand what was being said to her, but when she opened her mouth to respond, incoherent gobbledygook babbled out. Prissy knew what was going on around her. Sentient on the inside but unable to express it on the out. She was little more than an emotionally abandoned, sentient vegetable. That should be punishment enough. She could never harm anyone again. But it was not enough for Lili. Liliana lifted Priscilla's nightgown. It was pastel pink and velcroed in the back, making changing her easier for her caregivers. Little lace and a pink bow decorated the neckline. It looked like something an old lady in a nursing home would wear. Her once shapely legs had withered to thin twigs from her inability to use and control them despite the efforts of the therapy exercises to preserve her muscle tone. White surgical stockings helped with blood circulation and pink fuzzy socks kept her feet warm. Lili lifted the gown higher and smirked at the prize. Bingo. Prissy's once shapely backside that had driven all the boys wild was now encased in a thin, white diaper. The front was yellowed and swollen with her urine. "Look at that, Pissy pissed herself. What guy would be turned on by that?" She laughed mockingly. "Not much of a social life, yeah? But thanks to me, your wonderful, loving cousin, you've got two dates lined up. Lets get you all pretty for that moronic lunk Maxie. We'll show him what a big baby you are!" She cooed in a sweetly poisoned version of Ms. Sweeney. Liliana's voice disturbed Priscilla's slumber. She moaned, head lulling from side to side, with some drool running down her cheek onto her pillow. She instinctively tried to stretch, but her arms and legs did not even flail. She felt the tugging of the elastic safety restraints and the thick, padded cuffs firm around her wrists and her hands encased in thickly padded safety mitts to keep her from scratching her face when her arms involuntarily spasmed. She was tied down; the home care nurses only did that when she had a melt down. They even had a special, soft mesh mask for when she tried to spit or bite them in one of her frequent angry rages. But her mask wasn't on, and her bite guard was not in. The huge chunk of soft rubber prevented her from biting her own tongue off, and prevented her from biting anyone else. The rubber gagged her and made her drool even more. "Aba ga goo!" She blurted with a spray of spittle, demanding to know what was going on. The nurses always spoke respectfully to her, telling her what they were doing. Even when she was in the middle of a tantrum. All that came out of her broken brain was garbled nonsense. She still had not accepted her new condition; she kept waiting for improvement even though none came. She often got frustrated, pissed off and ended up lashing out in the only way she could- throw tantrums like a spoiled toddler would throw. Hence the restraints. Grandma Jill had watched a tantrum; she had backed away in fear and disgust. She had stared with wide eyes, horrified that her beloved granddaughter had morphed into this raging, thrashing thing that pissed and shit herself and bit her care takers. After that, Jill only pulled away more and more, just when Prissy needed her most. Prissy's head fell to the side, stray strands of hair sticking to her slobbery wet face. She wanted to gug on her restraints, but her feet twitched instead. She opened her mouth to scream, only to find a familiar, hated piece of rubber shoved into her mouth. She gagged. The mouth guard had a hole for air to get through, but she could not spit it out or talk. It muffled her angry squeal. "Tsk, tsk. I've read your files. Someone's anger issues have surfaced, yeah?" That low, purring voice made her freeze. Her eyes rolled; Liliana's grinning face filled her vision. Her despised cousin. Prissy tried to sneer but the bite guard prevented that. The freak had mutilated her face with metal piercings. Prissy wanted to laugh bitterly. Of the two, Lili possessed more natural beauty. Prissy needed the help of make up. And that bitch Lili took it for granted. She'd always been a fucking freak- Lili had smashed her porcelain dolls as a child and spattered mud on her frilly dresses. Now she wore tons of black makeup and shoved metal through her face. What the hell was wrong with her? Prissy felt the old hate and envy stir. The things she could have done with Lili's looks! Everything came so easy to that bitch while Prissy had to work and fight for it. Had to know what others thought before she made a decision, until she'd learned to manipulate and intimidate to get her own way. Be a selfish monster. Lili was a selfish monster- she did whatever she pleased and no amount of disapproval seemed to bother her. Envy churned in Prissy's heart. Life was not fair. And here was Lili, once more flaunting it all in front of her. Lili should be the one lying here, strapped to the bed, helplessly shitting and pissing herself. Prissy glared, her hatred burning in her eyes. She squealed again, saliva running down her chin. "Aww. Poor baby. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?" Lili shoved Prissy's nightgown up to her armpits. The bunched up, flowery fabric covered her small, bare breasts. Her wet diaper and bed pad under her padded butt to catch any frequent diaper leaks lay exposed to the world. "I noticed something interesting in your files, aside from your frequent tantrums. Grandma Jill hasn't signed off on any of your daily reports. I had a little chat with that blonde nurse that's always here. Judy? Gram's your legal guardian since your brain's so fucking scrambled. Judy had to take stacks of reports to her. Stand there and make her sign them. Guess you're not the golden princess anymore, yeah?" Prissy tried to glare. She let out a garbled scream, drool running down her already wet chin. Lili bend over her. One hand cupped the warm, squishy, yellow crotch of Prissy's diaper. Prissy whined in protest, wishing she could kick Lili's teeth in. "Since Grandma's too busy to care for you, I'll step up to the plate." She rubbed the smooth, warm plastic, pressing the fresh, piss-soaked padding into Prissy's crotch. Prissy flinched; Lili smiled. "Yup, no doubt about it. Baby went pee-pees in her diapee! And just look at your diapee!" Prissy's face flushed in embarrassment and anger. She squealed, the rubber filling her mouth suppressed it. Briefs. They're briefs, you fucking bitch. She snarled in her mind. She tried to swing at her hated cousin, knock her hand off her crotch, but her elbows just twitched and her legs did not move at all. "Don't worry baby. I'm gonna fix it." Lili's voice was heavy with poisoned promise. She squeezed the warm, squishy diaper again, making Prissy squeal helplessly once more. Lili released her diaper then disappeared from her view. Prissy stared at the empty ceiling, wanting to turn her head, keep her eyes on the monster, but her neck muscles would not cooperate. Liliana rummaged through the drawers on Priscilla's cherry dresser trimmed in gold. She pulled out a special diaper from the bag she'd put there earlier. A large, white rectangle filled Priscilla's vision. She immediately knew what it was. A diaper. But not like her thin, all white disposable briefs at all. There was no sugar coating or modifying what this monstrosity was. An oversized baby diaper for a big baby. Lili was going to turn her into a big baby. Like that burned boy- she couldn't remember his real name. Freddy Kreugar. Horror washed over her. Over the months after her accident, she had gotten used many indignities. Multiple medical professionals manhandling her, touching her most intimate parts. Bathing her, feeding her, changing her. That humiliation was an old one she was used to, so it was no longer an embarrassing humiliation. But those professionals were, well, professional. They treated her with dignity. There was nothing dignified about that diaper. It was huge, easily more than triple the thickness of her tiny, thin disposable briefs. The front panel had colorful, bright clowns and balloons that spelled out "B-A-B-Y" in big letters. She cringed on the inside. "I got these just for you. Found them online. They're adorable, yeah?" Lili waved the diaper teasingly. "It's super absorbent. Not prone to leaking. Soft, too." She rubbed the cool, soft plastic shell against Prissy's cheek. Prissy growled, drool dribbling down her chin. She wanted to jerk her head away, but it would not respond to her command. Lili laughed, opening the diaper up and putting it over Prissy's face and smothering her. Prissy's nose filled with the subtle scent of baby powder. Revulsion filled her- this was a diaper designed not for medical needs, but for those disgusting freaks who got off on this sick shit. Or maybe it was one of the diapers used in regression therapy? She vaguely remembered pulling down the burned freak-boy's pants in gym class, exposing his wet diaper to over 20 of their peers. Remembered him crying- and his sobs had only made the sight of a teenaged boy in a big baby diaper that much funnier. His burn scars had added to the bizarre sight. The freak belonged in a circus sideshow. "This diaper is so much better than yours. One little piddle and that thin diaper is leaking. It's a sad joke. But this bad boy can take a whole lot of your piddling pee-pees. Is Baby Pissy Pants excited? Yes, she is!" Lili's voice rose to a high pitched coo. She removed the diaper from Prissy's face. Prissy's squeal was muffled by her mouth guard. Fucking bitch! I'll kill her! Lili ripped open the thin, soaked diaper and pulled it out from under Prissy, leaving her pee dampened crotch laying on the blue underpad. Prissy lay helpless, screaming and cussing and cursing Lili in her mind. "Aww. How cute. They shave you down there. Guess even they know babies like you don't need big girl hair." Lili stared down at her cousin, her maddening Cheshire grin stretching. "Yup. Just a big baby." She laughed as if she found something privately amusing. Lili balled the diaper up and held it to Prissy's face, touching the piss-warm crotch to her cheek. Prissy squealed in disgust; the stench of her own urine tickled her nose. "See this? You did this. Your piss. You'll never be one of the cool kids again. Now you're just a big baby. Just like Cameron. He does this in his diapees, too." Her voice warped to a mocking sneer. Priscilla and Liliana were two sides of the same coin. Lili was, in her own way, just as mean and nasty as Priscilla. Prissy had always been more covert, and she chose victims weaker than herself. She attacked at the opportune moments. She had a sense of self preservation, and usually knew when to back off. Things had gotten out of hand with her torture of Cameron, and that was the only time her misdeeds had ever been brought to light. Lili, on the other hand, only attacked when provoked, but she was more ruthless and vicious than Prissy. Even her own father had been terrified of her, and he was a man who had firmly believed in spare the rod, spoil the child. Beatings, pan cake turners, wooden spoons, leather belts all had been well aquainted with Lili's young, tender backside. All had failed to curb her, though it had taught Lili to weigh her options. She accepted her punishments as consequences for actions she chose. Prices she had to pay for what she wanted. She'd even tell of her wrongdoings. Physical punishment did not curb her behavior. Her father had become convinced she was possessed by a demon. Lili and Prissy were both bad seeds; products of nature or nurturing was the question. Regression therapy had its roots in this conundrum. It had started off as a psychological experiment with criminals; convicts volunteered for time off their sentences. The experiment had mixed results, but enough promising results in rehabilitating hardened criminals. Other, similar experiments were repeated. And repeated. Results varied, but the momentum grew until some psychologists started offering this as an alternative, experimental treatment to patients who were not criminals. If this new therapy could turn petty, career criminals into law abiding, functioning members of society, what could it do for patients struggling to recover from severe mental or emotional trauma? Those results were more successful, and got more attention in peer reviewed psychological journals. More psychologists started dabbling and experimenting and refining it. Conferences were held. Some universities started offering specialized, elective courses in regression therapy. It trickled into mainstream awareness through magazines, TV talk shows, documentaries, social media- in particular the internet. Universities came to offer full courses in it. Hospitals started to offer it to patients who could afford it. Eventually, universities offered it as specialized major or minor. Patients requesting it grew until it morphed from an alternative therapy into a new yet still controversial main stream therapy. Insurances started offering coverage for it. Hospitals added regression therapy wings, and a few mental hospitals specialized in it. Of course, it still had its opposition. Cameron had been in such a hospital. It had helped him slowly deal with the trauma his father had put him through. Mental, physical and emotional trauma of his abusive father boiling him alive. He still was not over it. He would never be cured; the physical and emotional scars would always be a part of him. But he could learn to live with it. Cope with it. Prissy would have benefitted from regression therapy when she was whole and healthy. It could have curbed her selfish streak from doting Grandma Jill and nannies to cater to her every whim. Regressing Lili would only unleash the monster inside, removing the mental restraints Asha had painstakingly, patiently instilled in her. Was still teaching her. Priscilla shivered, fear flashing through her. She whined and drooled around her bite guard. A small spurt of pee squirted out of her, making Lili jump back. She looked down at herself, checking to make sure her invalid cousin hadn't peed on her. "You're damn lucky you didn't piss on me. That's disgusting." The poison in her voice didn't let up; bottled up for years, it finally had an outlet. Lili tossed the used diaper across the room at the garbage. It hit the wall with a squish, just barely missing the can. It plopped onto the plush, expensive carpet. Lili shrugged and left it there. Prissy peed some more, terror at her cousin's hostility making her heart pound. Her pee just wet the underpad some more. "Guess some baby really needs her diapees. I better get this on you so you don't piss all over the place. Maxie will be here soon, and we don't want you scaring him right off the bat, do we? We want him to stay and play with the pee-pee baby for a little bit, yes we do!" The venom gave way to a syrupy mock coo.

Cameron sat at the table, his paci dangling from the side of his shirt, held in place by his ducky strap that matched the onesie hidden under his hoodie. He tugged on the green bib tied around his slender neck. The strings were too tight, cutting into his soft skin. The bib was terry cloth with plastic backing, and had a huge, bright yellow ducky in the center of it. He squirmed, his belly still full of milk. His diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted his weight from side to side. He felt it squish, warm and wet, around him. When he'd woken up from his nap, his diaper had been checked and results marked down but it wasn't wet enough for a change just yet. He still enjoyed the freedom of being a big boy, at least in class- he was not strapped into a highchair, and he was allowed to feed himself. He still needed his bib and diapers, though.He tugged a little more, but the bib stayed tight around his neck. He whined and wished he had a velcro bib, which would give out under his tugging. The tie and snap bibs stayed put. Mrs. Vesper heard his whine; she finished tying Leroy's bib onto him then came back to Cameron. "What's wrong, sweetie?"Cameron tugged on his bib. "Tight." Mrs. Vesper bent over, checking the space between his neck and the bib. She untied the bib, then refastened it and checked the neck gap again. "There we go, that's better. And no mark on your neck." She said, relieved she'd gotten it fixed in time before it left a mark. Cameron was just happy to be able to breathe again in comfort. "Now I'll go get you so some milkies." She said in a cheery sing-song voice as she went off a side door into the small, attached kitchen.Ms. Sweeney was on the opposite side of the room, passing out little paper plates with two chocolate chip cookies on them from a tray she carried. The regression therapy students had their bibs on. Mrs. Vesper bustled out with another tray and began passing out sippy cups full of warm milk."Cookies!" Leroy grinned and bounced in his chair, a little drool running down his chin but he didn't notice or care. He picked one up and shoved it whole into his mouth, still giggling as he chewed and spraying crumbs. Mrs. Vesper floated by, placing a sippy cup on the table in front of him. Leroy grabbed it clumsily with both hands, mouth still full of cookie. Crumbs and drops of milk dribbled down onto his bib as he sucked hard on the sippy cup and overfilled his mouth.Cameron was much quieter. He stared down at his cookies and sippy cup of milk. His belly still felt mostly full from the bottle he'd had at naptime. Cookies were a special treat; they usually had some healthy, organic snack the moms took turns sending in. It was usually gluten free, too. The regression therapy program was very parent and guardian involved. The other students all had very involved moms, who were well off stay at home moms with more money and time on their hands than they knew what to do with. So they'd wrapped themselves up in their kids, and they seemed to enjoy the regression more than their children did. Marital problems like husbands with good jobs who spent more time at work, and with their young female secretaries, than was strictly necessary were swept under the rug, ignored and kept secret. Disgraceful. Scandalous. Husbands worked late, went out for drinks with the boys, went on extended business trips, screwed their mistresses, and the wives liked the income and denied their problems by getting so wrapped up in motherhood they didn't want to let go."What's wrong, baby?" Ms. Sweeney touched a cool hand to Cameron's forehead. "You've been acting off all day. Are you not feeling well? Your forehead's not hot." She looked down worriedly at him.Cameron took his sippy cup and held it up to her, shaking the milk inside and pointing at it. "Moo-moo." He said. She never listened when he tried to talk to her on an adult level- she treated him as if he was still regressed like the other students, so he'd stopped trying. Ms. Sweeney lifted Cameron's hoodie and poked at his belly. He groaned as something in it rolled. She smiled. "Ah, I think I know what the problem is." She squatted down and took both of Cameron's wrists in her hands, gently guiding him down onto her knee. She took a cloth from the tray she'd carried and laid it on her shoulder, using the towel as a makeshift burper cloth. She rested Cameron's head on her shoulder, the slight weight of his slender body supported by her own, then rubbed his back. She rubbed small circles on his back, her hand drifting down to his lower back then she started patting him. His stomach rolled again. He tried to squirm, but her embrace held him still. The front of his diaper grew warm as a squirt of pee came out of him. She kept up her pattern of rubbing and patting. A small fart slipped out and he wondered idly if it was just a fart, or if he'd messed himself. Either way, it was nothing for him to worry about. During his regression hypnosis, he'd been taught on a subconscious level to trust his diapers, and his caregivers. His diapers weren't his problem to worry about.After one last, sharp pat a big bubble rolled up from his stomach and erupted in a loud burp. Some milk dribbled from his lips and landed on the burper cloth. "Yup, I knew there was some gas hiding in there." Ms. Sweeney sounded pleased. "I bet that feels better, doesn't it, baby?"Cameron winced at the yucky after-taste that had come up with his burp. "Tastes yucky." He got his point across in a toddler lisp.Ms.Sweeney laughed. "I'm sure, sweetie. Now, eat your cookies, it'll take away the yucky taste." She sat him back down and patted the top of his head. Leroy was already shoving his second cookie into his mouth, a ring of chocolate, milk, and cookie crumbs smeared around his lips. Cameron picked up a cookie and took a little nibble.Someone knocked on the door. The students were too busy eating their cookies and drinking their sippy cups full of milk. Cameron sat his cookie down and looked curiously as Mrs. Vesper and Ms. Sweeney both made their way to the door. No one ever bothered the regression therapy room. The door opened, and the girl with purple lipstick stumbled through as if she'd been shoved. She shot a smoldering glare over her shoulder and for a moment Cameron thought she might actually breathe fire. His heart skipped a beat. Did they send her here to be regressed? Or was she put here because, like him, she was bullied and the principal had decided the easiest thing to do was dump her in here, like they had done with Cameron. Cameron had been separated from the bullies, and the problem was considered solved. He hoped they were just dumping her here- it would be nice to have a fellow student to talk to. And if she was in this room, he was sure she'd end up in diapers, too.Mr. Witherspoon stepped in behind Liliana, shutting the door firmly with a loud click. Mrs. Vesper pursed her lips, but before she could open them, the older Ms. Sweeney stepped forward. "What's going on?" She kept her face carefully blank while Mrs. Vesper made no effort to hide her displeasure at the arrival. Liliana had been absent from the small community for several years, but the mark she had left was not forgotten. The scandal of Liliana, Priscilla and the abused puppy was still talked about today.Mr. Witherspoon held up his hand. "Vice principal Lang is out sick today, and there's a bit of an emergency in the in-school suspension. I was having a talk with this young lady in my office when a fight broke out in the I.S.S. room. Secretary Clark is phoning the parents, but we need to keep the two young gentlemen in suspension separated. We're a little short-staffed in the office today, and I do not feel comfortable leaving this one alone and unsupervised. Or mixing her in with other trouble makers. I'd appreciate it if she could stay in your time-out just until I get the current situation under control. This will be her last chance to be on her best behavior." He said the last part with a stern warning directed at the girl. She smiled, innocent as a cat with a canary. He frowned, then returned his gaze to Ms. Sweeney.Mrs. Vesper's face puckered as if she was sucking on a particularly sour lemon as the principal spoke. Her eyes were narrowed slits. Liliana had her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, and widened her smile at Mrs. Vesper's sour disapproval. The girl almost looked happy to be here, and the special education teacher smelled a big, fat rat. She suspected the girl was up to something.Ms. Sweeney's eyes focused on Liliana as the principal talked, sizing the girl up. Feeling the stare, Liliana returned the gaze, sizing her up as well, showing no fear or respect."……" The head teacher looked at Mr. Witherspoon. "It would be just for a short period of time?"He nodded."If she misbehaves, she will face the same discipline as any other student in this room." Ms. Sweeney decided.Mr. Witherspoon paused, mustache twitching. "Well…she's not technically in the program-"Ms. Sweeney cut him off. "Then she doesn't belong in this room. We're making an emergency exception here, Mr. Witherspoon. At your request. She enters this room, she abides by the rules.""But, you see, the consent form-"Ms. Sweeney talked over him again. "Then I shall simply call her grandmother Jill." She inclined her head, as if that had settled the matter. "She's the head of the Ladies' Society I'm in, and she's also head of the PTA. I already have her number on hand."Mr. Witherspoon dithered, apparently suddenly worried about Liliana misbehaving and ending up getting spanked without a consent form, and the ramifications that would mean for him and the school. "Jill never signed the consent form for Priscilla…" "Mainstream students are not as supervised as the regression therapy ones, and they have different discipline protocols." Mrs. Vesper spoke up at last, backing Ms. Sweeney up. If the troublemaker was here in this room, she could keep an eye on the brat and find out what she was up to. No normal student would have that smile on their face, like they actually wanted to be here."Grandma's not gonna give a rat's-err- care. She won't care. I don't care, either." Liliana's dry voice cut across the adults', though she halted her speech at the last moment, as if just realizing that swearing right now would be a really stupid move. "Grandpa Jack's beaten my a-" She checked herself again. "Gramps has spanked me when I've misbehaved. My father has, too." She said as calmly as if she was discussing the weather. The last time she'd been spanked was when she was younger and her father wailed her ass raw with a belt. Pain and swift punishments did not curb her as it would most children; she had been spurred on, and had bitten her father on the thigh so hard she had drawn blood and left him with a permanent imprint of her teeth. Mrs. Vesper scowled; Liliana ignored her. Mr. Witherspoon's frown deepened, and Ms. Sweeney seemed pleased but surprised that Liliana had checked herself. Ms. Sweeney smiled and gestured languidly with her hand. "There you have it, Mr. Witherspoon. It's settled." She nodded her head with a note of finality."Well-then-I suppose…it's alright." Mr. Witherspoon's carefully groomed mustache twitched, as if he really wasn't sure about it but could find no grounds to protest on. He unlocked and opened the door. "Liliana. Behave. When I come back, we'll continue our discussion about your inappropriate antics earlier." He shut the door, and Mrs. Vesper locked it.Liliana saluted as the principal left. "I wouldn't dream of missing it for the world."Mrs. Vesper whirled, ready to pounce down the disrespectful girl's throat.Cameron watched, fascinated. Liliana seemed perfectly unperturbed at the chaos she'd caused- her metallic purple lips twitched in a smirk she tried to suppress, as if she was enjoying herself. If he was in her shoes, being at the center of so much attention, he'd be having a panic attack and bawling his eyes out. Just having one of his teachers frown or look sternly at him was enough to reduce him to tears, blubbering about how sorry he was.Liliana stiffened, facing Mrs. Vesper, her smirk widening, the snake bite piercings under her lower lip glinting in the artificial light overhead."Liliana. This is-" Mrs. Vesper started.Ms. Sweeney laid a hand on Mrs. Vesper's arm, silencing her. "Please see to the babies. " Her voice was a gentle command. Mrs. Vesper looked from Liliana to her boss. She huffed, deflating like a punctured balloon."Very well. But I'm keeping an eye on her." She huffed off, bustling over to the tables and grabbing a box of wet wipes on her way, to start cleaning hands and faces."Liliana, right?" Ms. Sweeney asked pleasantly but firmly, as if only asking out of politeness. She already knew who Liliana was. "I'm Ms. Sweeney, head teacher of the regression therapy program."Liliana nodded curtly. "Yo, sup, teach?" She sounded as if she was repeating slang she'd picked up in the halls, particularly from rough boys. She raised a clenched fist, offering it up for a fist bump. Ms. Sweeney stared at her, finding her actions odd. "No?" Lili shrugged, straightened up from her slouch and held out her hand. "Liliana Renine, but everyone calls me Lili." Ms. Sweeney stared at the offered hand for a moment, checking it over to make sure the girl did not have a prank buzzer on it, before shaking it."This is a special room. I ask that you please be considerate of the students' special needs, and that you follow our rules for this room. If you don't, you'll get the same consequences as any student here.""Yup. Got it. You covered that with Mr. Witheredsack." Lili said, gazing around the room at the banner of the alphabet running around the top of the walls, at the stacks of toys ranging from toddler up through kindergarten levels, at the plastic potty chairs in one corner, to the huge changing tables piled high with bags of diapers, each one with a student's name on it. She looked at the mentally regressed students in their bibs and sippy cups with the unmistakable diaper bulges around their crotches. She felt eyes on her, and met the gaze of the pretty boy who'd watched out the door earlier. Cameron. Her gaze trailed from his effeminate face down to the bright yellow duck on his bib. She gave him a small half smile, and he blushed , ducking his head shyly. It had taken quite a bit of careful prodding various students to find out who the pretty boy was without arousing suspicion or seeming too curious.Ms. Sweeney coughed to cover her laugh at what the girl called the principal. "What happens out there is between you and Mr. Witherspoon. It's not my concern, and I won't punish you for it. Your behavior in here is. You're a guest here, and I expect proper behavior. Now, there's a free seat over here." She gestured to a small table where no students were seated."Got it." Liliana noted how close it was to Cameron and sauntered over. She hooked her boot under a chair leg, pulled it out with her foot, sat down, still looking around her.Liliana still eyed the teacher. This teacher- Ms. Sweeney- knew her grandmother, knew Liliana's reputation and she was giving her a pass on her behavior. LIke everyone else in the small yet well to do town of Mapleton, this teacher knew of her checkered past. Yet she wasn't judging her by it; it was the closest thing to a warm welcome she'd gotten.Mrs. Vesper escorted one of the two girls in the class, back to her seat after helping her with the potty, and praising her for keeping her pull up dry just like a big girl. The regressed girl had a smiley face sticker on the frilly peter pan collar of her dress as a reward. Mrs. Vesper stilled as she saw Liliana sitting at a table. "Mr. Witherspoon said to put her in time out."Ms. Sweeney just smiled sweetly. "If she breaks his rules, then its up to him to punish her. She's broken no rules in here, and she gets a clean slate in here. Now, Lili." "Now, Lili. You want me to call you Lili, right? You can call me Ms. S., it's what some of my students use." Ms. Sweeney stayed standing instead of crouching down as Liliana sat on the oversized, childish chair, to get across the point she was an authority figure. Liliana was still gazing around, though the effeminate boy in the ducky bib kept attracting her attention. "Lili. Yeah." She said, somewhat distractedly as she studied the boy. She'd like to say her friends called her Lili but what few friends she had were left in India. After the incident with her cousin Priscilla and the injured puppy, the incident that had gotten her into so much trouble and still left a sour feeling with the residents of Mapleton, her Grandfather Jack had taken her to India, where she had grown up on his tiger preservation farm. "Lili it is then. Now, would you like something to drink? I've got juice boxes or milk, but you'd have to have that in a sippy cup. Classroom rules." Ms. Sweeney explained with a gentle smile. "Nah. Thanks." Lili curled her purple upper lip in a sneer at the mention of a sippy cup. Then she had second thoughts. She should show she was willing to play along. This golden opportunity to get to the pretty boy in the ducky bib had dropped into her lap, and she'd be an idiot to ruin it. She'd already resolved to swallow her pride to get what she wanted. "Actually,juice would be cool." She smiled up at the teacher A juice box wasn't that humiliating. She already felt like she'd been tossed back to kindergarten. No, not tossed back- she chose to come back. There was someone here who had peeked her interest, and to get to the prize, she had to be a good girl and play along. Lili was never content with just playing- she, like Priscilla, preferred to be the master puppeteer. Her first few classes had been uneventful, until one of the girls who dressed a lot like her cousin Priscilla made some comment about her spikes, piercings, and all that black crap on her face. Liliana, in returned, asked the girl if she was relieved that her last pregnancy test had been negative and whether her cooter still smelled funny. The other girls had laughed, along with a few of the lunk head jocks. Though a couple of the jocks had exchanged worried looks, as if worried they'd caught something from the girl with the smelly cooter. Liliana then had smiled sweetly and held out her hand, introducing herself as Priscilla's cousin. A few of Priscilla's close friends, who were Prissy's fellow cheerleaders, had shaken it warily, as if they weren't quite sure what to make of her. Priscilla had talked badly about her freak cousin, and Liliana, before coming to school, had gone through Prissy's Facebook to get to know the students. Specifically, those closest to Prissy, and had poked around on their Facebook pages as well. All it had taken was a few comments regurgitated from their Facebook squalling about the latest boyband and latest fashion trend, and Prissy's friends had accepted her into their little clique. Prissy's friends thought Liliana may have dressed like a weird freak- but maybe that was from growing up overseas?- but she knew what was cool and she was funny. Out in the hall, some of Prissy's friends had heard about what happened to her and wanted to see her scars. So Liliana had made a big joke out of it, laughing and making up bullshit stories about her accident. She'd pulled up her shirt and let them touch and poke at her scar while she joked about starring in a horror movie. That's when one of the boys, who'd been admiring the curve of Lili's breasts and the round curves of her ass in those tight, short shorts, made a comment about the boy called Freddy Kruger- a boy covered in burns who was in the sped class. Before Lili could reply, the principal had come upon their little group and saw Liliana's outfit, and her exposed stomach. Again. Rather than pull her shirt down, act uncomfortable and embarrassed, Liliana had left her scar out and flashed a peace sign at the principal, asking "Yo, 'sup doc?" He'd been less than pleased with her antics and marched her down to his office. "Juice it is then." Ms. Sweeney stared down at her for a moment, not sure what to make of the girl, but wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt. She went into the small kitchen, opening up a refrigerator and pulling out a juice box then sat it down in front of Liliana. "Thanks." Liliana nodded, already slouched in the chair and looking comfortable instead of the out of place interloper that she really was. Inside, she felt awkward in the giant nursery. "You're quite welcome." Ms. Sweeney said sweetly and went over to her desk as Mrs. Vesper had her hands full taking care of the other students. Lili took the juice box, feeling like she'd shrunk or went back in time and was in elementary school. She pulled the little plastic wrapper off the straw, then poked it through the foil-covered opening on top of the green apple juice box. She pretended to stare at the play area filled with mounds of toys and padded vinyl mats for the overgrown toddlers to play on. Most of the students were too busy munching drinking their milk and playing with the student sitting next to them to give her more than a curious glance; they were easily distracted. Regressed to a toddler's attention span. Except for the boy in the pale blue striped hoodie and ducky bib. He tried to keep his attention on his cookies, but he kept sneaking glances at her. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes. Everytime he'd look at her, she'd catch his gaze and smile at him. He'd blush and look away, like he had the first time she saw him in the hall. He was a pretty thing. Clearly a boy but with a sharply feminine bent giving him an air of androgyny. He looked to be around her height, though she hadn't seen him up close so didn't know for certain. Soft pink lips and big eyes framed by long, inky lashes. Thin; hardly any meat on his bones, and even under the baggy sweatshirt and loose jeans she could easily see the telltale diaper bulge. The crotch in his pants had been specially made to accommodate very thick, bulky diapers. Ms. Sweeney picked up the phone on her desk and dialed. Liliana flicked a quick glance at her. She knew calling her grandmother would be futile. Jill would halfheartedly consent, not caring either way what became of Liliana. She had always favored Priscilla, had believed her after the incident that tore open a gaping chasm in the family dynamics. Liliana was too much like Grandpa Jack, in looks and mannerisms, and that won her no favor with her grandmother. It only made her grandmother Jill more certain of her guilt. Jill had never forgiven Jack for decades worth of cheating, for breaking their marriage vows and humiliating her. Jack had never apologized, did not want forgiveness- he was still with his mistress. So Liliana ended up bearing the brunt of Jill's repressed, stored up anger. Ms. Sweeney hung up the phone and came back over. "Well, Lili, looks like you're officially mine until Mr. Witherspoon returns." "It beats being in Algebra." She joked, tearing her attention away from the pretty boy to look up at the teacher. The look on Ms. Sweeney's face reminded her sharply of Asha, her grandfather's assistant and right hand at the tiger sanctuary, when she was skeptical or less than pleased with Liliana's behavior. Liliana held up a hand, thumb over her folded pinky and other three fingers straight up in the air. "I'll be on my best behavior. Scout's honor." Never mind the fact she'd never been a scout. She shot the teacher a winning smile. "I trust you will. You might be with us a while- would you like a coloring book or some sketch paper? We have picture books. " "Thanks, but I'm good." Liliana pulled out her iPhone and held it up questioningly. "I got some games on here. It's on vibrate. I'll be quiet as a mouse." She sat the phone down and pulled up a game app. Ms. Sweeney watched, thinking about it for a moment then nodded, deciding to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, and went off to check on a student who was squirming in his seat and tossed his empty sippy cup onto the floor. Cameron really didn't have room in his tummy for a snack. He had tried to let Leroy take his cookies, but Mrs. Vesper had swooped down, caught Leroy's wrists, gave them a gentle, reprimanding tap and told him no, then told Cameron to eat his cookies. He was more interested in the new girl- Liliana. Lili. He picked up his sippy cup and took a drink of the milk and felt the front of his diaper grow warm. He'd always enjoyed the sensation of a wet diaper, except when it was full and clammy and cold- that's one of the few times he'd grow fussy over the state of his diaper. On occasion, it still caused him to cry until someone changed him. He snuck a glance at Lili as she poked her straw into her juice box. He was a little astonished the teachers allowed her to open her own box. He shifted, bulky diaper crinkling noisily. She smiled at him. A few drops of milk escaped the sippy cup as he sucked, running down his chin then dripping onto his ducky bib. He blushed and ducked his head, pulling his sippy cup out of his mouth so fast the last drops of milk dribbled out, soaking his chin and splashing his bib. He heard the drops hit and felt like an overgrown baby trying to get the attention of a big kid. Here he sat in a bib, diaper and covered in milk while she sat over there, no diaper, no bib, with a juice box she'd been allowed to open herself. He peeked shyly up at her through the fringe of his bangs. Her eyes glinted with pleasure and mischief as she lifted her juice box up to him in silent toast and took a sip, as if trying to make him feel better about his sippy cup. Or teasing him. He blushed and looked down at his cookies then over at her. Her smile was gentle, not a laughing sneer, and it left him confused. Part of him feared she was making fun of him; that was the part that feared anyone from the mainstream classes. But her expression didn't match the memories of the jeering faces that haunted him. So..maybe she wasn't laughing at him. He thought of the massive scar on her side, gouges of her flesh missing. Maybe she knew what it was like to be laughed at? He still wondered if she'd be joining them, end up diapered and bibbed like he was. Cameron peeked at her again. She caught his eye, lifted her juice box up again then motioned her head towards his sippy cup. He blushed, grabbed his cup. She raised her juice box up yet again in a silent toast; he hesitated a moment, smiled softly then raised his sippy cup up a little. She put the straw to her lips and he took a small sip of his milk, careful not to dribble anything this time. The milk on his bib was all the proof in the world he needed to show he was still just a baby who needed a bib to keep his clothes clean. "If you're in this classroom, you follow the rules for students. That means ALL rules." Mrs. Vesper swooped down upon Liliana, a white terry cloth bib with plastic backing trimmed in pink with Elmo on it held in one pudgy hand, her fingernails like red talons. Her horn-rimmed glasses slipped down her nose as she bent over. Liliana sucked hard, quickly emptying the juice box, then held it up, shaking it. "It's empty, so I'm good." She stretched, nearly cuffing Mrs. Vesper with her spiked sleeves and forcing the teacher to take a step back. "You will wear this. Or face disciplinary measures." She stepped forward again, closing in on Liliana's personal space, but the girl didn't seem bothered by it. She just looked lazily up at Mrs. Vesper, purple lips curling into a half-smirk. "You've been banging on about that since I stepped foot in here. Spanking is the "disciplinary measure"." She said it more of a statement than a question. Cameron's belly did a funny flip flop to see her so defiant, something he could never do even when he wanted to. "Yes. Ms. Sweeney got permission from your grandmother." Liliana smiled, her eyes taunting. "Really excited to "discipline" me, aren't ya? I know I got a nice ass, but, no offense, you're not really my type, and I'm not into bottoming." The gleam of wanting to humiliate the trouble maker faded to confusion on the teacher's face. "What?" She wasn't used to students who talked back as much as Liliana did. Liliana's face gloated twitched with laughter, which she tried to suppress. "You're a married woman-surely you know what I mean? But, BDSM? Yeah?" The teacher's red-taloned fingers curled into fists, scrunching the girly bib. Mrs. Vesper's face paled in sheer shock, then as her anger mounted, that ghostly white gradually turned puce purple as Liliana's metallic lips stretched into a Cheshire cat grin. She shouldn't provoke the teacher. But the teacher had been baiting her, and Liliana just wasn't able to resist the instinctive impulse to bait back. "Mrs. Vesper, please come help Billy; he needs a diaper change while I pass out the work books so we can practice our ABC's. " Ms. Sweeney called, interrupting the confrontation. Mrs. Vesper's lips puckered, her red lipstick feathering at the edges. She adjusted her glasses, pushing them back up her nose before stalking off with an offended hmph and a sour look that promised Liliana she was not done with her. Cameron kept sneaking peeks, afraid Mrs. Vesper would catch him looking. Once she'd stalked off, before he could change his mind and lose his courage, he grabbed the paper plate with the cookies and slipped out of his chair and onto the floor. Leroy was too busy picking his nose to pay attention to what Cameron was doing. Cameron crawled along on the carpeted floor, his diaper crinkling loudly. Liliana was only one table over from him, at the little round one. Cameron sometimes sat there by himself when he was working on his high school level work while the fully regressed students did work more appropriate with kindergarten level. He crawled, occasionally stopping to sneak a peek at the teachers, who were otherwise engaged and hadn't noticed him yet. Liliana watched the big baby in the ducky bib crawl to her. His well padded bottom was in the air, the thick bulge of his diaper clearly visible. She heard the crinkle of his diaper as he got nearer, and she wondered what the little boy was up to. He did not act like the other students, all fidgety and easily distracted- she wondered how regressed he was. If he was regressed at all. He was too aware of what went on around him. He put the paper plate with the cookies on it up on the table next to her, then boldly sat up in the chair next to hers. His head was lowered, gaze focused on his soft, slim hands. She smiled at him, but with his head lowered, he did not see. The diapered boy with the milk stains on his ducky bib really was adorable, for an overgrown toddler. As he sat down, there was a loud pop as several snaps on his crotch popped open, forced apart by the humongous diaper swaddling him. She glanced down, saw the poppers on his pants open, revealing the snaps on his onesie, which had come undone as well, showing the plastic shell of his bulging diaper. He didn't seem to notice, leading her to believe it happened frequently to him. She wondered if he knew when he wet or messed himself. "Hey there, baby boy. What you up to?" Liliana kept her voice light, mimicking how she'd heard the teachers talking to the regression students. Cameron blushed, ducking his head more, too shy to look at her. The words stuck in his throat. He trembled and wondered what he was doing. Adrenaline made his heart pump and his head buzz. He wanted to say hi to this fascinating creature, to this girl who was scarred just like he was, but fear clogged his throat, nearly making him choke. In answer, he hesitantly took his partially nibbled cookie then pushed the plate towards her, his soft hands shaking. Liliana raised an eyebrow, wondering if the boy could not talk or if he was just shy. She guessed, from his trembling, he was just very shy. And yet, he was the one who had approached her. Bold, for a little diapered mouse, she thought and her smile widened. "For me?". Liliana asked gently, one blonde eyebrow arching. She'd have thought her piercings and makeup alone would have frightened the boy off. The other regressed students had checked her over then quickly looked away with fear on their faces. Lili didn't look friendly or approachable. But this boy seemed fascinated by her. Maybe he was just from a very controlled environment and had never seen anyone who looked like her- piercings and makeup. Or maybe it was her scars. She knew he saw them when the principal cornered her in the hall, and Cameron had stared out the classroom door. What she had heard about the boy said he was covered in burn scars, so she was sure her own would catch his attention. Cameron nodded his head. When she didn't reply and just stared at him, he squirmed in his seat. His diaper crinkled loudly and peered up at her. She just sat there watching him expectantly. He pushed the little paper plate closer to her. He opened his mouth to tell her he was sharing his cookies with her, but that gaze sliced through his courage with razor sharp claws, shredding it ruthlessly. His face got hot, flushing red. He nodded furiously, head bobbing up and down as he looked down. He couldn't do this. What had he been thinking? Just- she had scars. Like he did. He was curious. Knowing she had scars made him feel brave enough to approach her. He hated meeting new people, changes in his environment. He liked routine and knowing the people around him. Knowing they would not hurt him. Therapy had taught him not everyone was out to hurt him, had worked with him on learning to meet new people. The old fear bubbled up in his chest, squeezing his lungs, ready to pop into a full blown panic attack. As he looked down, he noticed the snaps on his jeans had popped open, along with the ones on his onesie, exposing his diaper. His clearly wet diaper. He knew his heavy duty diaper was obvious from the very visible bulge and how loud the crinkle of it was. But this actually exposed his diaper to her razor sharp gaze. Not only was his diaper exposed, but its condition was, too. Wet. Helpless as a baby. The ducky bib, sippy cup and pacifier dangling from his ducky clip were embarrassing but expected in a regression therapy room. But to have her know what he'd done in his diaper….that felt so intimate. So exposed. His heart skipped a few beats, hammering unpleasantly and his breathing quickened. He felt the tight bubble in his chest pop and a panic attack coming on and let out a garbled squeak. She must think him a daft idiot, a big, stupid, pants pissing baby. Lili watched the boy's breath quickening, his chest starting to rise and fall as he shook slightly, starting to fall to pieces in front of her. She did not want to upset him, push him away. She wanted to get closer to him. Not make him cry and hurt him further. She did not care what the teachers would think- they would assume she was bullying the diaper boy, stealing his cookies and would spank her. She quickly glanced around- Mrs. Vesper was trying to pin down a squirming boy on the changing table, his pants down, diaper open and feet up in the air. The boy kept grabbing at his sock covered toes and trying to shove them in his mouth, preventing the teacher from getting to his diaper. Ms. Sweeney was bent over one of the two girls in the class and helping her with some numbers. "Hey, what's wrong?" Lili leaned over and gently touched his arm. Cameron froze at the soft touch, shocked. He tried to answer her but a bubble of nerves tangled in his throat and only a garbled squeak escaped. Lili couldn't help it. She laughed. The diapered boy really was adorable in a big baby kind of way. Her laugh, however, apparently was the wrong thing to do. Cameron flinched at her laugh;it struck him like a whip, ripping deep into the raw nerves and emotional wounds that therapy was helping heal, tearing that emotional wound open again. Gutting him. Tears burned his eyes and he sniffed, slim body shaking more with the depth of his emotions, his hurt, old wounds she had unwittingly ripped open. Lili's heart twisted in her chest to see this beautiful boy in such pain. She squeezed his arm, fingers tightening on his blue striped sleeve. "Oh, don't cry. I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. Really. Don't cry. Please. " Cameron peeked up at her at the panic and worry in her voice. Was she really worried about him, or afraid of getting in more trouble? But she'd mouthed off to the teachers and teased Mrs. Vesper about- about naughty stuff. She wasn't even afraid of the principal. He doubted she would be afraid of teacher reprimands and punishment…but Ms. Sweeneys paddle hurt! Cameron had never experienced it himself; just seeing other kids get paddled was enough to cow him. Her gaze caught his. His eyes were full of sparkling tear drops. Those pierced, purple lips smiled gently. " I promise, I wasn't laughing at you. I just thought your squeak was cute. " Her eyes were warm and sincere as she gazed at him, and he lost himself in their depths. Cameron's sunken cheeks bloomed red as a summer rose. "I-I didn't squeak!" he blurted in a rushed whisper. His nerves and embarrassment still made him shake, but her steady gaze helped calm him, reassure him she was not going to hurt him. Lili blinked in surprise. "You talked!" "O-of course I can talk." He blushed, his voice growing softer, but he kept his eyes locked with hers. She slumped back in the chair, her hand falling away from his arm. He already missed her touch and wondered why. "I didn't know you could. You never said a word. Just cute little squeaks like a baby mousie." His face grew hot, bravado fading as quickly as it had come. "I j-just-I-" He stuttered, shifting, feeling the ridiculously thick, wet padded bulk of his diaper shift under him noisily. A few loud pops caused him to glance at his heavily padded crotch. More poppers had popped open. Now it was hard to miss his exposed diaper. He thought before she hadn't noticed but now she was sure to. She would look down and see the big baby's big diaper. He almost squeaked again but bit his lip. Lili's grin grew like a cat who'd found a new toy to play with. She swallowed a laugh so she wouldn't upset him again. "You're so shy, cute little mousie." He squirmed some more. His entire crotch had popped open. He felt his stomach twinge and rumble. The milk from his nap was working its way through him and would soon have him filling up the seat of his diaper. He vaguely noticed it. Most of the time he didn't notice or pay attention. The only time he usually realized he had to poop was after the fact, when it filled his diaper. At least it was not stinky thanks to a special medicine his grandma and doctor had him take. He didn't want to mess himself in front of the pretty, strange girl but he'd have no choice. He had no control, which was why he needed his diapers. Super thick diapers for extra protection. Liliana was right- he was very shy and he saw no use in denying it. Cute. She said his squeaks were cute. He felt his face grow hot along with his diaper front as another small spurt of pee warmed the already wet padding. Liquids just seemed to run right through him. But that's why he needed diapers. His care takers- doctors and nurses in the hospital, and nannies when he went home, had commented on how cute or how pretty he was, but this was different. His heart sped up again, making his chest feel funny but not like a panic attack. He bit his plump, soft, full pink lower lip to silence his nervous, embarrassed squeak and just pushed the place with the cookie on it towards her again. He had to stretch, his diaper rustling loudly, the poppers in his crotch all forced open from the huge bulk of his diaper. The crotch of his pants and onesie hung open like a gaping mouth with rows of round, shiny little teeth and inside that cavern was his obviously wet diaper, still pushing the material out. His knee bumped hers as he reached to push the cookie in front of her. "Sowwy." He mumbled, scooting back in his chair and heard a few more snaps pop open. The cookie and plate were now right in front of her. "No worries. You really are a shy little baby boy." Lili's warm voice oozed over him like warm honey, pleasure warming him up. Washing over him in a gentle wave. He smiled and had the urge to stuff his beloved paci into his mouth. In his panic and nervousness earlier, he'd forgotten about it. He forgot all about his exposed diaper. As his confidence around her grew, he raised his head up to look at her. "So, you sure?" She held up the cookie questioningly. He smiled shyly and nodded, picking up his own cookie between slender, soft, girly fingers. Just slap nail polish on and his hands could have belonged to a girl. Lili's smile widened, the snake bites moving as her facial muscles stretched. He stared, attention caught by their movement .He wondered how much it hurt getting a crazy place like that pierced. Lili tapped her cookie to Cameron's raised one. "Well, cheers then, eh?" she winked as he let out a surprised little squeak, pale face going red as he blushed yet again. She liked making him blush- it was fun gently teasing him, and he was so soft and beautiful. Not just physical beauty- maybe it was because of what he'd been through, because he'd been in regression therapy, but an open innocence shined in his eyes. The innocence of a child, something the adults in Liliana's life lacked. Something Liliana herself lacked. She loved her grandfather, and Asha, her grandfather's mistress, but they had their adult games they played. Games Liliana played as well. In his flustered state, he shoved his entire cookie into his mouth. It was hard and a little chewy but still sweet and yummy. It was a store bought cookie, from a package. Nothing as good as a homemade or bakery bought cookie, all soft and plump and filled with bits of gooey chocolate chunks. The cookie crunched loudly and Lili laughed again, smiling. The little round metal balls below her purple lips twitched with her facial movements. She winked at him before shoving her own cookie into her mouth whole, just like he'd done. Lili stared, smiling, as Cameron looked down at his lap, slender hands clasped together as he chewed his cookie. He was too shy to look at her, his previous courage fading as quickly as it came. He felt her gaze on him and he curled up. Cookie crumbs fell from his lips, dropping onto his milk-spattered ducky bib. He swallowed bits at a time. Cameron's heart thumped in his chest a he fidgeted, diaper crinkling noisily as he swallowed some more. He wished he'd brought his sippy cup with him. What should he do now? He wanted to look at the girl, but he was afraid to. "So, Squeakers, what do they call you?" Liliana already knew his name from asking around and the teacher's talking, but Cameron didn't know she already knew, and she wanted a conversation opener. Cameron's cheeks bloomed pink and he peeked up at her, cookie crumbs clinging to his pink lips. "Camwin." He said softly then looked back down at his lap and his diaper poking out through the open snaps in his crotch. "Lili, but you probably already heard." Lili's voice was gentle and smooth as velvet. She looked over Cameron's shoulder and saw Mrs. Vesper approaching with a white bib trimmed in pink clutched in her pink talons. The woman's lips pressed together in a thin, determined line. Her eyes locked with Lili's in challenge. Cameron noticed Lili's stare and looked sideways at the teacher's aide. His face paled and he stuck his binky in his mouth and sucked nervously on the rubber nipple. Mrs. Vesper smirked and held the bib open, ready to snap it around the rebellious interloper's neck. She would make her obey the rules. "Classroom rules. You're a student. Any time a student in here eats, they must wear a bib." Her eyes, her expression stared down at the little hellion, daring her to argue, as if the teacher really wanted to goad the girl into an outburst. Lili's lips twisted in a silent snarl and she stood up to prevent the teacher from fastening the bib around her neck. She stood toe to toe with the teacher, invading her personal space and forcing the teacher to back up. Lili took a step forward. Mrs. Vesper's doughy face lost its nasty look, replaced by a flash of fear. Lili smirked. Cameron craned his neck, his eyes wide as saucers. He trembled, sucking noisily on his binky and fingers tugging on his bib. He hated fights. Oh how he hated them. He sucked vigorously on the rubber nipple, using it to keep himself from falling apart. His daddy had gotten angry a lot. As angry as Mrs. Vesper and Liliana were right now. The mere memory of his father's loud, angry voice sent shards of ice down Cameron's spine and numbed his mind. He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and drawing in deep, ragged breaths. He concentrated on his breathing, blocking everything but the actions of his lungs and his sucking on his paci, just like his therapists and doctors had taught him. Daddy was not here now. He was away, couldn't hurt him any more. Locked away. He was safe. Struggling to be calm, he opened his eyes, wanting the fight to stop. Wanted nice, behaving Lili back. Wanting her to stop fighting with the teacher. An angry teacher was almost as scary as his angry father. Fear spiking through him, he darted forward suddenly and tugged timidly on the hem of the white tank top peeking out from her spike trimmed, short black sweatshirt. Mrs. Vesper pursed her lips and stepped back, putting space between her and Lili. She straightened her back, but Lili just smiled. "I'm not eating right now." For emphasis, she parted her purple, spiked lips and stuck out her tongue, which still had a few bits of partially masticated cookie. Mrs. Vesper's lips twitched in revulsion at the sight. When tugging on Lili's shirt didn't get her attention, Cameron rocked forward, feeling his sodden diaper padding squish under him, as he reached up and tugged on the hem of her sweatshirt, harder than he'd tugged last time. She finally felt the pull and looked down at the trembling boy. "No fight. Peese." He lisped softly behind his paci. His slim body trembled slightly and he looked down, all his courage focused on tugging Liliana's shirt. Liliana felt the tugging and looked down, barely hearing Cameron's whispered words, which were muffled by his paci. His head was bent, so she couldn't see the expression on his face, but his trembling gave way what he was feeling. He was upset by her goading the teacher's aide. Her temper was getting the better of her; she felt no hesitation or fear of locking horns with Mrs. Vesper, but she didn't want to upset the pretty, fragile diaper boy. The sneer faded from her purple painted lips and she laid her hands on top of Cameron's. She ignored Mrs. Vesper and squatted down so she could look at Cameron's face, taking his hands in her own and giving them a little squeeze to get his attention and comfort him. "Hey. Don't cry. We're not fighting." Lili cajoled softly. Her gentle voice cut through Cameron's racing thoughts, her gentle touch prodding him to peek up. He let his paci drop from his pink lips, caught by the blue ribbon and ducky clip. "N-no f-fight?" He whispered even softer than before, his words more breath than voice. Even this close to him, Lili couldn't hear him; she read his lips. "Yeah. It's okay." She rubbed her thumbs over his slim fingers and he blushed when he realized she was holding his hands. Mrs. Vesper's retort died on her lips at the sudden change in Liliana's demeanor. She was taken aback and just stared as the rough looking girl cooed at her student, calming him down. Her instincts were to swoop in and separate them, but Cameron was responding to the girl. Liliana and Mrs. Vesper standing toe to toe immediately attracted the attention of Ms. Sweeney. "What's going on?" She quickly swooped down on the trio, pinning Liliana and Mrs. Vesper with a no-nonsense stare. She looked from her fellow teacher to the interloping trouble making student who'd been thrust upon her. Liliana looked up over Cameron's bony shoulder to stare back unblinking at the teacher. Mrs. Vesper sniffed disdainfully and looked away, not willing to admit she may have been in the wrong and also not willing to risk Ms. Sweeney's wrath. Ms. Sweeney was no fool- in a few moments she pieced together what happened. Her eyes darted from the pink and white bib clutched in Mrs. Vesper's hands to Lili. Cameron followed Lili's gaze; upon seeing the stern look on Ms. Sweeney's face, he whimpered, shrinking into his chair. "Shh." Liliana focused on him right away, gently shaking his hands to get his attention back on her. He looked back at her. She released one hand briefly to snag his blue and white paci, holding it up to his lips. He obediently opened his mouth and she slipped the rubber nipple in. He started sucking immediately and smiled softly at her. "I see." Ms. Sweeney's gaze focused on Liliana, then sliced to Mrs. Vesper. "I was just-" Mrs. Vesper started in on defense of her actions. "Just enforcing class rules." At her voice, Lili glanced up at her and her face hardened. She looked ready to pop up and fight. Cameron stared at her face and whined softly, starting to tense up again. Lili immediately schooled her features, her attention once again on Cameron. She forced a smile, tugging on his bib and tickling his milk-splattered ducky until he relaxed. Ms. Sweeney held up one hand, cutting the other teacher off; Mrs. Vesper fell silent immediately. There was no confusion who was in charge of the regression room. Lili looked up at her, expression silently challenging and asking now what. "Mrs. Vesper, please go help Susie with her pull-up. She's squirming in her seat; she probably needs to go potty." Ms. Sweeney ordered sweetly and Mrs. Vesper pursed her lips, looking like she was sucking on something sour, and nodded her head. "And if there's anything else that needs addressed with our guest today, I will take care of it." She added in a low and stern reprimand, looking directly at Mrs. Vesper, who scurried off. Cameron still heard Ms. Sweeney's stern tone and he started to tense, afraid he and Lili were in trouble. Lili poked his ducky and he sucked nervously on his paci, peeking up at his teacher. Ms. Sweeney's face immediately softened and she smiled reassuringly at him. "Liliana. Disrespect towards anyone in this classroom is not tolerated. I do appreciate your help with Cameron." Liliana shrugged casually, as if she didn't care either way what the teacher thought. "He's a sweet baby. I just didn't wanna see him cry." "I see." Ms. Sweeney frowned, wondering how to get through to the girl. Wondering if that was even possible. "Cameron, sweetheart." Her tone instantly turned syrupy sweet. "You know you're not allowed to just get up out of your seat and wander." She said in a gentle reprimand. Cameron lowered his head, blinking back tears. "S-sowwies." He lisped softly behind his paci. Lili squeezed his hands gently and he sniffled. "But since this was special circumstances and you made a friend…" Ms. Sweeney trailed off and Cameron peeked up at her. Cameron blushed, realizing Ms. Sweeney had known what they were doing the whole time. Ms. Sweeney always knew what went on in her room, and he felt like a very bad boy. A tear trickled down his cheek and Lili reached up to wipe it away. He looked at her, the pierced, scary-looking interloper; she smiled at him, the spikes below her purple lip twitching with the facial muscle movement. He smiled weakly back. "I suppose it would be alright if you sat here for today. If Liliana doesn't mind, of course." Ms. Sweeney finished. She knew she should take Cameron's hand and lead him back to his assigned seat next to Leroy, but she had never seen Cameron latch on to another like he had with Liliana. She was mystified and curious about why that was, and followed her gut instinct to let Cameron sit next to her. Liliana's immediate reaction of stopping her provocation of Mrs. Vesper when Cameron was upset convinced Ms. Sweeney to allow it. The teacher would, of course, be keeping a close, watchful eye on the two of them. "Yeah, I dun mind. I'll keep an eye on baby boy here." Lili smiled flirtatiously at Cameron, whose whole face flushed red. He sucked his paci nervously, noisily, a little bit of drool slipping down his chin and onto his bib. He ducked his head. "Uh oh baby. Here, let me fix your pants. Your diapee is showing." Ms. Sweeney noticed Cameron's crotch and onesie snaps were popped wide open, leaving his diaper on display. Liliana sat back in her seat as Ms. Sweeney gently turned Cameron in his seat so he was facing her. His diaper crinkled noisily. She knelt down and poked at his gigantic diaper, checking him. He blushed, wanting the ground to open and swallow him up. He squeaked. Even worse than Lili noticing his exposed, wet diaper was having it checked right in front of her. Like he was such a big, helpless baby he couldn't even tell when his diapee needed changed. He swiveled his head, shyly peeking over his shoulder at Lili. She stared right at him, and winked. He squeaked and turned shyly back around, face going even redder when he heard her amused chuckle. "You're wet but you don't need a change just yet." Ms. Sweeney announced loudly and snapped his onesie then his pants shut. She stood up then turned to Lili. "Lili honey, your turn- let's see if you went pee pee or poo poo in your diaper."She cooed. Lili's kohl rimmed eyes widened, looking absolutely horrified and pissed off. Ms. Sweeney caught herself and tittered. "Sorry, I was on auto pilot. I'm not used to having a regular student in my room." Lili's upper lip curled in a silent snarl. She didn't find it amusing at all. Cameron reached over and patted her knee. His slim hand shook slightly and he sucked nervously on his beloved paci. Then looked up at Ms. Sweeney once the snarl left Lili's face. "Lili big giwl. Not baby wike me. No diapee." He whispered in his soft toddler lisp. "Yes, sweetie. You're right. My mistake. Lili, I do sincerely apologize." She said formally, sounding so much like Lili's grandmother Jill that Lili almost cringed. She slouched in her seat and shrugged. " 's fine. No big deal." Mrs. Vesper swept by with a stack of workbooks and bin of crayon boxes and pencils in her arms. Ms. Sweeney snatched two books and crayon boxes off her. "Thank you." She smiled and Mrs. Vesper just nodded curtly. Ms.Sweeney set the preschool-level books down in front of them, along with two big, fat special pencils made for little, unsteady hands and 2 boxes of jumbo crayons. Lili looked up at Ms. Sweeney with an arched eyebrow in silent question. "Lili, please join us and help Cameron." Lili snorted but nodded, silently expressing her opinion- she thought participating in such work was clearly stupid, and she was only doing it for Cameron.