DiaperRebel

The doctor cackled moving behind Quinn’s head to remove her portable bonnet and pet her hair. She began placing the EEG leads directly from her machines, bending so her voice was low next to Quinn’s ear. “No, my dear. Right now you look like a baby, act like a baby...but how else will we get you to show everyone how much you love your diapers as an adult?” Her finger points to the eyebot still floating and recording. “We’ll have Knights from miles around lining up to be put in diapers for our treatment.” She joked darkly. “Especially after your little performance.”

The doctor watches with growing derision as the baby program within Quinn squirms and cries. Weber curtly nods to the synthetic nurse whose hand still rested on the patient’s diaper. It began to hum. The vibration was strongly reverberating downwards, activated to appeal to the adult within their pampered prisoner.

“What a big word!” The nurse praised while mopping up Quinn’s drool with her top. “Baby is right, Dr. Weber is very excited to see you again. She was so worried about you when you left, so she’s been getting everything ready just for you.” Quinn is once again a spectacle in the halls of the Institute, especially now that she’s wearing her mocking Babyhood diapers. Quinn is carried into the doctor’s lab. The metal examination table is illuminated with a diaper pad spread in the center and straps at the ready. Quinn is laid down and placed in the restraints to keep her bare legs bowed and spread outwards, her wrists by her shoulders, diaper easily accessible which the nurse places her hand onto lightly to make her announcement. “Doctor, the subject is ready for you now.” Out of the shadows, Dr. Weber steps with a glint of light flashing across her glasses. “You changed her prior...” She observes coldly. ”Much appreciated. I took hours to clean my lab of her dirty diaper stench during her last procedure.” She snaps on rubber gloves with a curled painted lip.

“There, there...much better.” The nurse soothes, patting Quinn’s diaper and tugging the ruffles of her front waistband back into place after getting jostled by her fussiness. Quinn is given her binky to replace her drooly mitten, and is bounced a little more as the nurse carries her towards the door, her assistant in their wake. “I think someone is going to be well-behaved for her doctor’s appointment, yes she is.” The nurse predicted.

“Oh no, Nanny’s sorry...” The nurse quickly releases Quinn from her changing table and holds her close to bounce her soothingly, rustling her big diaper, and making sure the symbol on her crinkly bottom was in clear view of the camera. “Don’t worry. All your Babyhood friends can come and wear diapers too. If they continue to be naughty...we’ll just pump this program straight into their wittle heads. Yes we will!” She tried tickling, while the other nurse retrieved the paci from the nursery floor.

“D’aww is the Babyhood of Steel’s knighty-whitey a little shy of showing everyone her cute new diapers? There’s no reason to be honey, everyone just saw you be a baby a moment ago...If you wanted to be one or not. Look at the camera dear! Here’s the baby’s Pal-adin!” The nurse cooed and held up a new stuffed toy of a cartoony power armor plush with rattles inside. She shook it trying to get Quinn to look up and smile.

The nurse quickly pulled Quinn’s diaper front taut as her mess darkened the seat. The eye bot hovered near with its camera to record the lump grow in the diaper in real-time. “My goodness!” The nurse giggles, speaking to the eyebot, and her potential audience. “The Brotherhood’s big babies can’t even make it to the potty in time! If they can’t tell when they need to poopy, how can they tell you what’s best for the Commomwealth?” She asks in a cutesy tone and with a smile, pressing the mess in the diaper up hard against Quinn’s bottom before lowering the diaper to get a shot of her filthy poopy bottom and padding. She sighs at the work ahead of her as the eyebot records the show. The nurse’s smile turns to a mockingly sympathetic pout as she rolls up Quinn’s messy diaper while her assistant releases Quinn’s ankles to one at a time roll them into slippery stockings to match her diapers. Her freed feet are lifted to her chest to roll her hips free of her dirty diaper. She’s held there, folded, while the synth wipes clean every nook and cranny to then have baby powder fill the air. Wrinkling and rustles follow before Quinn is lowered onto the thicker padding of her new diapers and the nurse meets her charge’s gaze with a knowing smirk. “These Babyhood of Steel diapers are made just for you.” The nurse informs, rubbing powder between her prisoner’s spread legs and adding some more puffs to her open padding. She leans in to bop Quinn’s themed-pacifier. “Your little poopsies will land right on the symbol.” She winks and straightens again to tug the diaper’s stretchy waistband up between Quinn’s legs and flatten it down against Quinn’s waist to tape in place. Her fingers rub the seals secure then run around the leak guards for a good seal while her assistant starts guiding Quinn’s hands into locking mittens. The head nurse directs the documentary eyebot’s camera again to get another still shot of the captured Brotherhood baby. “Smile, Knightie!” she instructs.

The nurse, after a little happy gasp at Quinn’s adorable politeness, left her wet diaper untaped, but still resting up against her hips to go get her paci and grab her a fresh diaper. She returns, a small curious institute-white eyebot hovering at her shoulder as she holds up a large disposable and paci with a smile, displaying their special design. They were orange, grey, and white. Brotherhood colors. The insignia on the front of the face shield of the binky and in the white space between two wiggly steel-grey areas on the back of the diaper. She has Quinn suckle the pacifier as she and the other nurse helps her past her restraints into a white cropped top that doesn’t come anywhere near the top of her hips. Her EEG recording bonnet is next shoved onto her head and tied beneath her chin. “You look so cute!” The nurse nearly squeals, tightening back up Quinn’s wrists. “I know I’m not done with your change yet, but you just look so adorable in your wet little diaper!” She taps the hovering eyebot’s camera lens into position and takes her time framing Quinn with her changing supplies, BoS diaper neatly folded and sidled next to her currently swollen yellow one, still in place where the accident was absorbed, just loose, and barely covering her naked hips. The camera snaps. “There! You are just the cutest little mascot! This should do wonders for recruitment.” She grinned, flipping the bot around to Quinn to show her wet baby picture on its display.

McKinney sees Quinn’s distressed expression react to her internal issue and barks a laugh, gun still trained on Stone. “That’s the idea, piss pants.” He pulls a teleportation grenade from his coat, grin turning crooked. “They have your little baby nursery all stocked up just waiting for you. I just wish we had more time so I could give our Paladin’s ass some much needed payback. Oh well.” He sighs, and Stone looks to Quinn helplessly as McKinney begins backing up, curling his finger for Quinn to crawl and follow out of range of Stone as the grenade is lazily tossed and they vanish in a nauseating ripple of space-time. They appear back on the block strewn floor of her adult nursery just the way she left it. Hands immediately grab her arms and legs, uncaring of any protests as two nurses lift her bodily back onto her diaper changing table, removing her ankle support, strapping her down as McKinney smirks and exits to report his mission’s success. Scissors make it easy to snip away at her clothes around her restraints as she is unceremoniously stripped down to her wet diaper, yellow and full in the crotch. A nurse places her hand on its swollen padding to gauge the wetness underneath then starts peeling back the tapes. “This Knightie definitely needs her diaper changed.” She coos with a taunting smile. “Let’s get this soaked thing off you and into one of Dr. Weber’s special diapers.” She tickles.

“I’m sorry...” The gun was quickly shifted to the Quinn at Stone’s side and she pulled the trigger, unable to look. The point-blank shot vaporizes the synth into a mound of shimmering ash, a chip, undamaged, sticking from the pile. Stone’s armor sags, opens, and the Paladin staggers back, falling to her knees, white as a sheet to heave dryly against the deck. Laughter erupts, a stealth boy uncloaks, and Stone looks up into the barrel of an energy pistol held by a black-coated courser. “I knew I was right to be jealous.” The agent sneered. “Brotherhood Baby Quinny got all the love and attention, but if I gave any hint of my true nature I would join my sister there as a pile of greasy dust...” He removes his sunglasses, the jeering eyes of McKinney flick to stare Quinn down. “Hey there, Wastelander!” He greeted. “How about you crawl your big diapered bottom over here to your big brother ‘Kinney, right now, and I might just let Stone live.”

“No, I still have it...” Stone’s voice was distant, weary, her face hidden by the expressionless mask of her helmet. The Paladin swallowed hard, listening, a hand still on the suit of her Knight. One of her proudest moments had been pinning that sword and wing insignia on Quinn’s chest, painting the fresh stripe on her armor, something that helped to clear the pain of her loss, her failure, her inability to protect the most fragile things around her. A pit of despair rested squarely in her stomach. She took the rifle from the frozen disengaged-armor’s hand and released the safety pointing it squarely at the Quinn dressed as an outsider, the one who hadn’t shared her grief in her darkest moment, who hadn’t shared tears in the dark. With a dry constricted throat, she asked the question only one would know the answer for. “Where...” Here voice cracked, but her aim never faltered, her mouth quivering in a thin line as she struggled to form the mundane, stupid, but vital words. Something she had never admitted to anyone before. “Where...” her finger tightened on the trigger. “...am I ticklish...” Her voice trailed to a hush.

Stone let a deathly silence hang, her armored hand still gripped the cooling rifle. Jarringly, Stone throws her own weapon down and leaves it clattering loudly at her feet to maintain control of the Knight beside her while reaching behind and yanking the armor’s fusion core free. It plummets to the deck as a steaming yellow pill. A quick twist, and the armor is disengaged. The imposter Quinn is held to step backwards, not unkindly, but firmly. Before any more words of defense are stammered out, Stone makes her thoughts and rules known. “I ask the questions...” Stone said, voice dark, barring any argument. “There was a crash... How did you survive?”

The Paladin’s weapon lowered, an audible heaving gasp is amplified. “Kill it!” A younger voice, more teary, with shock, and fear came from the other. Stone yanks the Knight’s rifle aside, the fired beam barely missing Quinn, the heat streaking past her ear. Quinn would know that voice. It would register after the buzz and pop of the laser dissipates...it was her own.

A laser rifle is leveled at her temple, a crackling voice travels through amplifiers of a power armor helmet. “Step away from the controls...” It was Stone. Her order, growled, filled with anger from having let an intruder go unnoticed for so long. If Quinn turns, she will see not only Stone in her Paladin armor, but another armored Knight rifle pointed as well.

Deacon handed her off with a grin as ‘mommy’ struggled to keep her weapon hidden behind Quinn’s ‘diaper’ bag which was also full of ammo. Satisfied, the protection dinged a happy monotone greeting and stomped on. A sigh of haggled relief leaves Glory, but Quinn is still cradled close in case of more interviews. All is quiet until they move closer to the lounger gallery. Turning a corner, they encounter something none of them were readily expecting, a group of generation 1 synths, standing idly, eyes glowing. Glory hesitates but Deacon immediately opens fire. Quinn is quickly set down as covering fire rips from Glory’s unslung weapon. “Go! Destroy the program!” Deacon shouts to Quinn over their rapid fire. “We’ll hold them off!” Another dispatch of synths clanks forward reinforcing the first. Beams of energy weapons clack and crackle by, snapping against the walls.

Exiting the lowered lift into the vault proper leads them to a protection eventually crossing their paths to test the cohesion of their happy family unit. Deacon grabs his ‘wife’s’ hand and drags her close with Quinn cradled in his arm like their big lanky baby. “Good day!” He greets the tron. “We are just returning from our holiday and baby Quinny here is in desperate need of a diaper change so we will be heading straight to our living quarters right away!” Deacon sounded convincing and Glory did manage a cracked smile. The protection, after a quick scan confirming the wet diaper, announces its need for confirmation of relation to the vault resident. All eyes were on Quinn.

“Here’s our little baby girl!” Deacon quickly scoops her up in his arms with his synthetic strength to cradle her close and rock her as he strides into the airlock confidently. “Goochie-goochie-goo! Are you going to be a good baby girl for your mommy and daddy for the mean ol’ robots?” He boops her nose as he heads towards the vault elevator and Glory groans behind them.

Both of Quinn’s companion’s eyebrows go up. Deacon, always one for espionage waggles his at his partner who is a little slow on the uptake until she slowly shakes her head at the ridiculousness of his suggestion. “Oh no, no way...I’m not...”

“Just wet?” Deacon parrots. “Good, no smells to give us away.” He approved. The convoy continues and the sun slowly begins to lower. Dark shadows run under the jutting pillars of jagged cogs from the broken vault. Burned twisted remains of the Brotherhood vertibird still lie and smoke, but no other signs of activity disturb the wrecked deserted landscape. The synths lead the way to the scorched entrance of the vault airlock, guns drawn. “Chock full of protectrons you said?” Deacon asks, otherwise silent in the twilight.

“Good. Maybe you can hold a gun. It feels weird not having some teeth on my six. How’s the drawers? We have a stopping point coming up. Cleaned it of gunners if you need to stop.”

Desdamona and Deacon shared a look. He nodded. “You’ve already seen too much, but it’s a risk we had to take. You help us destroy that technology, and we’ll help you get your friend out of the Institute. There’s no time to lose.” The leader of the railroad gave her blessing. * Quinn, dressed for the wastes with enough room for her diaper, was flanked by the two Synths, Deacon and who Quinn later learned to be Glory, as they walked as a convoy across the commonwealth. Quinn was aided with the help of a specially crafted yet crude mechanized boot, but it made her diaper waddle all the more prominent. “You certainly look harder to hit that way...” Glory muttered as they walked.

“That doesn’t explain these?” Deacon snapped a corner of her diaper elastic peeking from beneath her gown before rising up again with a frown. “Leave it to the Brotherhood to do that to you.” He says with a frown. “The offer still stands. We could use an insider.” “Speaking of..” Desdamona weighs in. “I don’t like the idea of them or the Institute gaining a monopoly on that tech, especially if they find a way to use it against synths. Do you think you could show us the way in?” She asks Quinn.

“That’d be me.” A bald-headed man grins, wearing a ratty t-shirt and sunglasses even inside. “Glad to see you made it out. Sorry I couldn’t be there for the Welcome party, but maybe I can still tempt you to join?” “I see you’ve met Deacon.” Desdamona introduces. “He and Nicole, or NRS-848 as you might have known her, coordinated your removal from the Institute Headquarters. We normally work on freeing synths, but seeing what they were trying to do with you, we had to get you out.” Her tone is quickly shifting to a more interrogative pace. “A memory pod is what did this to you? Like the one in Good Neighbor?”

The woman sighs watching the binky bounce to the floor, but then looks up surprised at the full sentences coming out of Quinn’s mouth. She blushes deeply having her on her hip, so tries to set her down in a less babyish position, but of course any shifts cause an eruption of loud crinkles from Quinn’s diaper. “D-Desdemona.” She clears her throat sheepishly. “You’re with the Railroad now. You’re safe.”

“I..I don’t think that I can...“ “I’ll do it.” The woman with the scarf cut him off and lifted the adult baby Quinn heavily onto her hip. “I called the retrieval, so she’ll be my responsibility. I could use your help though Drummer, you seem to know a thing or two.” ”I had a little sister.” He admits before mock saluting and jogging the rattle to a man at his workbench across the underground space more covered in lenses, faceplates, and gadgets than a tool shed wall. The woman carries Quinn to her situation table and sits with her down on the edge of it to grab what’s left of a box of dandy boy apples she’d been munching on earlier. She holds one up for her to try.