BoTox

OK, Amazon has confirmed they have pushed the new content to anyone that bought the book and had the wrong content. If you had the wrong book in your copy of "The View from Whitman's Ridge" it should be fixed now. Please let me know if it is not.

It looks like my free book give away was a success! A total of 73 books were claimed. I do not put DRM on my books and you can freely lend them to others within the Kindle system. I hope you enjoy the book!

What is the title? Thin Walls: Book 2 - Waiting in Diapers is the one I'm giving away now.

No problem. Just happy to share with the folks that enjoy them. It looks like 33 have been claimed so far. It runs until midnight tomorrow for anyone still wanting to pick up a copy.

I'm a bit confused. Who was Marilyn? She showed up in the previous chapter but I didn't recognize the name from other chapters.

I'm giving away an Amazon book this weekend, 7/12-14, 2019 for anyone that wants it. This is the US link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NTTWQ5L (also in my signature) Enjoy! I don't put DRM or limit who you can share it with. The rules are as relaxed as Amazon will let me and still keep it listed.

Stranger and stranger. No reply from Amazon either.

What do you see if you select "Peek Inside" from the book page? I guess I'm going to have to pull it down and start over.

If anyone has purchased this book in the last day, Sunday evening to now, can you report what is the title page inside the book? Thanks

Well, I seem to have screwed up and uploaded the wrong file to Amazon by sending "By Court Order" again. I've corrected it but it takes a day or two for Amazon to update the file and go live on their site. I apologize for my screw up.

My latest book is up on Amazon, The View from Whitman's Ridge. I will be giving a book away next weekend to celebrate this latest book. The second in the Thin Walls Trilogy: Waiting in Diapers. The link to it and all my stories is in the signature at the bottom. Here's a teaser first chapter from the book: Chapter 1 SOLD! That's what it said on the sign Jake Whitman was putting up. It was the property he closed on earlier in the day. It should have been a great day. After all, the six percent commission on a $549,000 home sale should be reason enough to celebrate but Jake was feeling like he was going through the motions, doing what was expected of him. His real estate business, Whitman Realty, was booming. A new factory was moving to town and everything with a roof and an internet connection was selling in days of going on the market. Who could complain in an area where he was making money hand over fist? On top of that, his home on the biggest and best lot on Whitman's Ridge was paid for with plenty of money in the bank to spare. Jake wouldn't need to work another day in his life if he didn't feel like it. He was well respected in the community and gave generously to charity. It was too bad his wife did not live to see their dreams realized. Jake still missed Sue. Even after more than 18 months the hole in his heart ached. He'd been plodding along so far by trying not to think about it but every time he saw her picture on his desk he was reminded of the pain he felt at her loss. It was so sudden he'd not had time to prepare. A cruel twist of fate took away his happiness in the world when everything seemed to be going his way. "Well, you've felt sorry for yourself long enough," Jake said to himself, "time to break out this funk and get on with your life! Sue wouldn't let you mope around like this. Get back to living!" With that little pep talk to himself, Jake climbed into his white Tahoe and drove back to the office. His secretary smiled and handed him a stack of messages as he walked to his desk, closing the frosted glass door behind him. It was days like these that made him wish he could just go home and slip into a nice, comfy diaper for the evening. Gee, he hadn't had a thought like that in a few decades. Sue would have never approved and Jake had hidden it from himself and her for nearly 30 years. Not since college, where he met Sue, had he let his kinky feelings for diapers bubble up into his conscious mind. Jake decided today was going to be different. There was no reason he shouldn't indulge in his long denied, most secret passion. He resolved to leave early that afternoon and stop by the pharmacy store on the way up to his house on the hill. He returned a few calls and finally decided to leave when his stack was cleared of important items. He couldn't concentrate any more on work. Jake's mind was not on real estate any way. His mind was already diapered and his loins soon would be as well. He told Glenda, his secretary, he was tired and leaving for the day. She wished him well and he left with a plan. As his drive home approached closer to the drug store he suddenly became very apprehensive. Here he was, in a big white Chevy SUV, his name and company logo plastered down the side, and he was going to go in and buy himself adult diapers? What was he thinking? A 52 year old man in his right mind wouldn't be doing this, he thought. Jake nearly changed his mind several times but when he arrived at the intersection where he needed to turn, the turn signal was already blinking. He had committed no crime, his life would not suddenly end if anyone found out though his reputation might be tarnished. He had a right to privacy. At least that was the thing he kept telling himself as he exited the big Chevy and walked to the door. He took a deep, relaxing breath and walked inside. As he looked around the aisles, he saw the bright red signs hanging above each aisle noting the products available in each. The store was nearly as empty as the parking lot. It was 2 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon and there were only a half dozen cars in the parking lot. He figured most of them were likely employees. The aisle he was interested in browsing was in the farthest corner from the door. Jake decided to walk down the toothpaste aisle first. He needed a fresh tube any way. Next he visited the vitamin aisle. His stock of vitamin E was getting low. At the end of the vitamin aisle he turned and walked along the very back of the store, past the pharmacist window and turned straight up to the incontinence aisle. "Darn," Jake said under his breath, seeing the top of someone else's head, browsing in the aisle. The other person turned out to be a rather pretty young lady. From the back she was about medium height, wearing a short, dark skirt and light, sleeveless blouse. Her slightly wavy brown hair just past her shoulders was shiny and silky looking. Her legs were long and tanned. The young lady turned as she heard Jake entered the aisle. She had a pleasant face, green eyes and was holding a bag of size small Attends. She displayed a pleasing smile as she saw him approach and he nervously smiled back. He looked at the sizes, trying to get in and out without any undue interaction. Jake looked over the selection and finally decided he needed mediums. "Excuse me," Jake said as he passed by her to pick up a bag of medium Attends. He couldn't help but notice that the bag of diapers she was holding would probably fit her. He tried not to be obvious with his glance but she didn't appear to be wearing one now, as if he could really tell the difference. Her skirt was not tight fitting but it hung close to her and it didn't appear to be overly padded any where that he could tell. Her waist was actually pretty small. This made her bottom look pleasantly full but not diapered. Her breasts were firm, round and perky. How Jake missed the company of a woman since his beloved Sue was taken from him. "So sorry. Pardon me," she said as she looked up to allow him to pass and added hesitantly, "Aren't you Jacob Whitman?" Feeling a bit flushed at being recognized, he replied with a slight grin, "I think so, that's what it says on my business cards." She smiled and apologized, "I'm sorry, its just that I've seen your picture in the paper and billboards... well, you look so much taller and thinner than your picture." "Those were taken a few years ago," replied Jake with slight smile, “I've lost a bit of weight and they say the camera adds 10 pounds.” He remembered how his wife had gotten him to smile for those pictures. She was killed by a drunk driver only a month after that. He had forgotten where he was and what he had intended, lost in a memory of a happier time. The young lady spoke and he returned to reality of the moment. "Oh, well, I guess I should leave you alone. I better get these home," she said, tapping the package of adult diapers she carried. As she walked away, Jake watched her hips wiggle and her beautiful, brown hair bounce. She was probably only 18 or 19 but she seemed confident and comfortable with herself. He finally stopped looking at her and walked off with a package of mediums for himself. On his way to the front Jake picked up a tube of A&D ointment, baby powder and disposable wipes. That should get him started, at least until he could buy some thick, cloth diapers and plastic pants off the Internet. Those wouldn't be available in any store he knew of. He reached the counter, hoping to see the cute young lady again but she was already gone. He paid the older lady behind the counter with cash and walked out, a bit embarrassed to be carrying the diapers. A bag of medium Attends wouldn't fit in any of the small plastic bags so he had to carry them in the open. In the parking lot, he looked around but did not see anyone. He opened the rear passenger door of his Tahoe and was putting his shopping in the backseat when he heard a voice that startled him. "I am so sorry to bother you again," said the same young lady from the store, "but my car won't start. Would you mind giving me a jump start? I have my own set of cables." Jake looked at her, his frown turning to a smile, and answered, "Sure, young lady, but we have to stop meeting like this." She giggled again. Jake liked that. She seemed relieved that he was going to help her. A gentleman always helps a damsel in distress. "I really appreciate this," she said, "I need a new battery but I don't get paid until Friday. I usually park on a hill but it wasn't enough of a slope to roll-start it." Now it was Jake's turn to laugh as he remembered his early years with a beat up old Dodge truck with two different colored doors. She pointed at her car at the far end of the parking lot. Jake asked her, “You drive a stick?” “Yes, I learned on a manual shift car and always liked them,” she said. "Get in and I'll drive you over there," he said as he opened the passenger door for her. She climbed into the passenger's seat. She glanced back at his shopping as she got in the passenger's seat but didn't linger. Well, now she knew, Jake thought, so he stopped fidgeting and got in and drove over to her car. It was an older silver Toyota Corolla, in good shape but with a slightly worn finish and hazy headlights. "Just pull up here," she said, "I'll get the cables." She jumped out, bounced to the back of her car and opened the trunk. Jake exited his truck and lifted the hood. From his vantage point, he could see her Attends were in the trunk. Her cute little butt was not diapered, either. Maybe the diapers weren't for her. She walked back with the cables and handed him one end of the red and black cables. He let her connect her side first and then secured his cables, attaching the ground to a heavy engine bracket. "Give it a try now," Jake said, as he revved the V8 motor to increase the charge rate. Her car started instantly and he proceeded to undo the cables. He carried them around to the back of her car and she walked back to meet him. With the trunk open, he noticed that she had a load of laundry, the package of Attends and some wipes. She blushed as he stowed the cables in a box containing a few basic tools and auto cleaning supplies. "Thanks, Jacob, I owe you," she started, "Gosh, this thing is a mess. I've got to get some time to catch up and clean it out." "You can call me Jake and who can I say owes me?" Jake asked. "OH, I'm sorry," she said, "My name is Gillian Hammond but my friends call me Jill." "So, Jill, can I call you Jill?” asked Jake. Jill nodded, “Anyone that helps me get my car started is definitely a friend.” Jake pointed at the clothes in the trunk, “I guess you can't get time to wash clothes so you are switching to disposable underwear?" Now she blushed in earnest and half stammered, "Uh, well, I guess its a long story." "OH, I'm only kidding," Jake said, "besides, you already know it takes one to know one. Mine are just a size bigger." Jill giggled again and Jake closed her trunk. He handed her one of his cards and told her that if she ever needed a jump start or a new home to call him. She thanked him and they went their separate ways. Jake wasn't feeling blue any more, his spirits were lifted as he drove the rest of the way home. He smiled all the way up the hill. Soon, he would indulge in his long denied kink and see where that led. After 30 years in dormancy, he wasn't sure what to expect but he was determined to find out.

What is it about? I might be interested but it depends on the subject matter.

I'd do a Trey and Lola if I could do it justice but I'm over a year out as it stands. I rushed a few of my early stories and I'm trying to be more deliberate. I set them aside for a week or more and come back to see what I missed the last go around. I've got a lot more in the hopper to clean up and get whipped into publishable condition. Then I have to come up with some kind of cover art. I don't want to just toss a generic Amazon art piece at it. Seems like a cop out. I still have the whole Ingrid series to edit and get published sometime this year. Ingrid is one of my favorites but I want to be sure I do her justice because if Mistress Ingrid isn't happy, EVERYONE will end up in diapers. LOL Too bad kinky books don't make enough to earn a living. I've got a dozen book ideas I've never done more than write the few paragraphs of the plot.

Yes, I altered the title. I thought it was a bit more descriptive and a play on words. That one was rougher than I'd remembered and it needed quite a bit of clean up to get it to a state I was happy with. As for Trey and Lola, not currently a sequel. I had thoughts of it but I have so many irons in the fire right now. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be giving another book away in a few weeks when A Room with a View comes out. Maybe I should put a poll up to see what book folks would like?

Deviant Art has some stuff, cartoons mostly.

My next book, A Room with a View, is set for release on June 22, 2019. Here's a link to the cover art and the first chapter. A Room with a View Cover Art Chapter 1 I stayed that first night in our new apartment alone. The freedom of not living in a halfway house may be my undoing, though. At that time in my life, I was a still a heavy bed wetter that also needed some manner of daytime protection due to leakage. The next morning, true to form, I woke up in a soaked overnight diaper. It was probably due to all the soda I drank the night before. Maybe I should hold off of the fluids so late at night. Thank goodness for thick, absorbent diapers! I showered and prepared myself for work as I learned a new routine. It was relaxing to have a whole bathroom and shower all to myself. One of the perks of paying the larger chunk of our rent. No rush to get in and out by a stop watch. To know that putting on a diaper was my choice and at my leisure rather than a legal requirement enforced by locks. Best of all, I was only 10 minutes from work on foot! As I had been doing most days since I was released from the dreaded confinement belt, I reluctantly wore a pull-up to work. The progress was slow. Thirty minutes was about all I could hold it and I could sense Barb's frustration when I suddenly needed to use the bathroom. It was a bit embarrassing with others in a meeting. After all, she was in the same boat but it didn't make her run out and have a wee every time she felt an urge. That night Maria and Nikki both came over to our new apartment for a few hours. Both were moving in the next day and brought a few small things with them. Earlier that day they had been to the grocery and were stocking the fridge and pantry with food. Maria had convinced Nikki to order their beds online. They would be delivered tomorrow evening. We hung out and made placement decisions about furniture we would buy. None of us owned a TV and had little interest in one so we did not bother with cable service. Instead, I offered to upgrade the Internet and we would use our phones and laptops as our main source of entertainment. We talked about how we had come so far before they headed back to the half way house for one last night. Right on time the next evening, Janet rolled up to the building and helped us haul their worldly belongings up to our apartment. Janet approved of the place and congratulated us on re-entering the real world on our terms. She decided to stick around a bit longer and helped us assemble the furniture Nikki and Maria had ordered. Even the mattress was included. I was amazed when they opened the small bag and pulled it out. It immediately started to expand until it was a full sized foam mattress! We had divided chores around the apartment much like we had at the halfway house. Maria agreed to do most of the cooking since I was a lousy cook and was rarely home early enough to make dinner. I vacuumed, dusted and made sure all the bills were paid on time since they were all in my name. Nikki brought home a pizza every few nights as something different to give Maria a break from cooking supper. Nikki often brought home other things home as well. She'd been stocking her personal toy box with a wide variety of adult toys, most of which I didn't even know about. "I can't help it," she said, "I'd have something up my ass all the time if I could get away with it! I went a whole year without anything. I'm making up for lost time." Nikki was, after all, a self-admittedly very anal erotic woman. You could always tell when she bought a new toy because she'd go straight to her room without so much as a 'hi' and close the door. She'd be in there for half an hour before she'd come out and speak to us. Sometimes we'd hear a muffled moan. We suspected she still had her toy inserted since she would not sit or ever so gently rested her behind on the edge of a chair. Most mornings Maria would come out of her room wearing nothing but a half shirt and her very soggy diaper. Her long, wavy black hair and dark eyes made the image surreal. She acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a grown woman to wear a diaper around the house. Well, maybe for this house it was perfectly normal. Then again, this was not a normal home in any sense. Maria, Nikki and I needed to replenish our stash of diapers before we ran out. We agreed we would go shopping the next Saturday when all of us were free. Since the program made us incontinent, they provide vouchers to purchase the needed products at local medical supply stores. The program had provided us with a list of stores. Maria found one on the list that was close by. She called to check the hours and that they did accept the government vouchers. Once it was confirmed, we were off to check it out when Saturday morning arrived. This was the first time we were sure what Nikki was doing since being released from her diaper and belt. She'd never explicitly said she was still wearing diapers full time or if she had managed to kick the habit already. We were all bed wetters so that wasn't a mystery. We walked the few blocks to the store in 15 minutes. It wasn't hard to find. The name of the place was The Rear Guard with the sign boasting The Largest Selection of Incontinence Products in the State! It seemed a bit of an exaggeration but we would soon find out for ourselves. We entered and surveyed the place. Bright white walls with plenty of lighting. It certainly was well stocked. There were shelves and aisles filled with all manner of incontinence and assisted living aids. I would probably have used crowded to describe the place. Nikki went straight up to the counter, "I need a three Velcro closure adult cloth diapers and plastic panties, size medium. Do you stock those?" The nice, older gentleman behind the registered pulled up his glasses and said with a smile, "Several kinds, young lady. If you don't mind, are they for you or are you buying for someone else?" "Me," she said without flinching, never one to shy away from here condition, "I'm a bed wetter. A very heavy bed wetter." I watched intently as the man smiled and walked over to a back shelf to show her merchandise she might be interested in. I followed, curious about the nature of reusable products. I saw him hand her several thicknesses of garments. "Being a bed wetter is nothing to be ashamed of. I'm glad to see you taking some responsible action for yourself. These are our thickest Velcro diapers," he said, "A soaker can be inserted to increase the capacity. The only thing we have that is more absorbent is these pull-on style cloth diapers with full coverage and you can still use soakers in them, too. These are great for side sleepers." "I'll take two of each," said Nikki, "and a half dozen soakers." He placed her items in a shopping cart. She nodded and they moved on to a shelf of waterproof panties. It was a well stock shelf. It was overflowing with stock. "These here are the lightweight plastic panties," said the gentleman with milky white panties in his hand, "They are good for light incontinence or even over a disposable diaper for added insurance but I'd recommend a heavier pull-on in urethane for night time wetting. Snap-on panties aren't good for side sleepers but they work well if you wear during the day and need to change." Nikki looked at the panties he showed her, held several up to her waist, "I'll take one pull-on in blue and one in pink. Let me have a pair of the snap-on in black to mix it up." "I think you'll be quite happy with your selection for both comfort and effectiveness," said the fellow, "Do you need anything else? Perhaps some creams or powders?" "Yes, I need something disposable for everyday use," said Nikki, "Something quiet." "I believe we have the thing you are looking for," he said pointing to the next aisle over, "These have good absorbency and a cloth-like backing to keep them very discrete. They should work well alone or with waterproof panties for added security. I have them in full diaper and as pull-ups." She looked at the sample he showed her, "I'll take a bag of the pull-ups in medium as well." “How about your bedding?” he questioned, “Do you have a bed protector or a full mattress cover?” “Nope, good idea, though. I'll need a queen size bed cover,” Nikki added. He rounded up the items for her order and she paid for it with her voucher without incident, "Can I help your friends as well or are they just here for moral support?" "They are a little shy," said Nikki when she pointed to me, "Especially, that one." "Don't worry, young lady," he said as he approached me, "We get all kinds in here. I'm Roger, the owner. Everyone needs a little help now and again. Nothing to be ashamed of. My dear late wife was my best customer." I stammered every so softly, "I, uhm, I'd like one of the Velcro diapers like she got, a few soakers and a pair of pull-on white panties, all in medium. I'm not sure they are right for me so just the one for now." "No worries, young lady," he said, reassuring me, "You won't be sorry. If you aren't happy, I'll give you full credit toward your next order of something different. Anything else?" I sheepishly whispered to him, "Something in a heavy disposable, too!" He winked and showed me a bag of diapers, "There are only 14 in a bag but they will hold all night." "Some decent pull-ups for daytime, too, please, and a queen bed protector as well," I finished with a bit more confidence. I nodded as he rang up my purchases and accepted my voucher in payment. Next was Maria, who didn't need help. She'd already researched on the website and selected her products while he was helping us. She picked out two pair of pink ruffled plastic panties and several types of cloth diapers. She also had a bag of thinner diapers than I or Nikki had selected. She piled them on the counter for him to ring up, her voucher in hand. "I pretty much know what I need," said Maria with a knowing head nod. Roger, behind the counter, packaged our items into large shopping bags and set them on the counter for us. It was quite a lot of product to carry back to the apartment. He commented, “I've done a brisk business for the last few years and clients with vouchers accounted for nearly half of the business. I don't really understand what changed but it has been good for business.” The girls and I exchanged knowing glances and Roger glimpsed it. He asked jokingly, “You ladies got a secret handshake or something? If you have any more friends, send them my way and tell them you sent them and I'll give them a deal. I won't forget you next time you're in either. Referrals in this line of work are better than an infomercial.” Maria looked at him with a wink, “I've got six or seven more ladies I can send your way. You better remember me next time I'm in. We all talk you know.” “Well, in the case, ” he said, “I never mistreat a customer and I'll beat any internet price if I can!” We thanked him and Maria took a handful of his business cards. She gave each of us a few. Roger seemed genuine. He was quite adept at sizing us up and recommending products. We'd soon find out if he suggestions were worth it. Now came the most embarrassing part. We had to walk two blocks carrying various diapers and plastic panties, concealed only by very thin shopping bags. I think I had a harder time of it than Maria or Nikki. I was very self conscious of my shopping. Once we were safely back inside our own apartment, I asked Nikki point blank, "Do you still having a hard time holding it during the day, too?" Nikki grinned with her head cocked, "Yeah, some times. If I'm honest with myself, I think I like the freedom of them as much as anything. I was so used to letting go whenever I felt the urge, especially while I was being punished for being a bad girl. I mean, why hold it when you can keep going without a worry. Plus, a very tight, thick diaper holds my toys in place really well." There was logic in her madness but it was still madness. At least she had adapted her condition to help with with something that she enjoyed. I should be so lucky.

My latest book is doing well on Amazon. Here's a link to the cover art and the first chapter. Cover Art for By Court Order Chapter 1 It has been almost a year to the day and here I am back, in court. What is different this time? I'm clean, sober and smiling. If all goes well, the judge will discharge me from this very unusual program and allow me to live on my own. Did I mention another little fact? I'm also in diapers by court order. Odd as it may sound, it has worked for myself and all of the other women in the program but I'm getting ahead of myself. I hope the judge is impressed with my accomplishments and renders a favorable decision. I've tried to be a model member of the rehab program I was ordered into twelve months ago. I feel better about myself and my job is going well. It all seems like a dream come true. It wasn't that way a year ago. It was a different matter all together. I was a different person the last time I was in court. I was mad at the world and busted yet again. My naturally black hair was streaked red and blond. I wore it very short and used lots of makeup to try lightening my dark complexion. Sometimes I wore a wig. My hair is about to my shoulder blades and it is all my own shiny natural black. I wear very little makeup now and I'm very proud of my Native American heritage. While I'm waiting for my turn in front of the judge I'll try to explain how things work around here. You see, when I was arrested for the fifth time on prostitution and possession of a controlled substance, I was looking at three to five years in the state correctional facility for women. I won't lie, they had me dead to rights. The video of me trying to solicit an undercover officer was pretty damning. When they took me in, I also had quite a bit of cocaine in my purse. My zebra print skirt was barely covering my behind and the stained white halter top left nothing to the imagination. My lawyer usually had me out and back on the street by morning but this time the judge asked if see could see me in her chambers before the arraignment. It had never gone like that before. My lawyer protested but I agreed because I thought the judge might go easy on me if I capitulated and cooperated. Did I mention my lawyer was also my, uhm, agent? "Miss Littlebear," said the judge looking up at me over her reading glasses perched at the end of her nose, "I remember you. You've been in my court twice before and I see from your record you are in no way going to get help on your own." I quietly nodded, "I'm sorry, your honor. It is hard out there. So much money and it comes so easy." "I don't doubt it," she looked back down at her papers, "The folks in Washington, D.C. have decided to test a new rehabilitation program in our fair city and I've been selected as one of the judges to select likely candidates. It is my opinion that you would benefit from participating in the program. Should you decline, you will face the charges against you now and proceed as normal." "Yes, your honor," I meekly said. "However, if you agree to the court ordered rehabilitation program I'm about to describe to you, you will be allowed a second chance to rejoin society as a productive member." "What exactly is the court ordered rehabilitation?" I asked, "Will I be in jail?" "Miss Littlebear," she looked me straight in the eye as she spoke, "You will become a resident of a half way house. After a brief period of adjustment, you will be helped in finding and holding a suitable job. For a period of one year, you will live in the half way house with other such candidate women. You will be fitted with certain items to guarantee your cooperation. You will also be taught a skill, given education opportunities and generally learn to deal with society in a way that does not include seedy motels, HIV tests or being a defendant in my courtroom." "What kind of things will be fitted? Like an ankle monitor bracelet?" I wondered. "Something like that," answered the judge, "but it will be around your waist and it will make sure you do not return to any of your old habits. One year and you'll back in my court. If you've satisfactorily completed the program, your records will be sealed. What do you say?" One year ago it sounded too good to be true. Little did I know how hard it was going to be and the measures they would resort to in order to keep me, and the other women in the project, on track. As you can already guess, I did agree to it but it wasn't without some problems. When I was back in open court and my lawyer was present, the bailiff called my name. "Grace Littlebear," he said loudly. My lawyer and I walked to the defendants table and he said, "Your honor, I must protest the manner in which this case has been handled." "Silence, Mr Willsworth," said the judge, "You are well known in the court system and that is why Miss Littlebear was selected. You have far from represented her best interests and she has already agreed to a court ordered rehabilitation program as part of a plea bargain. Advise her otherwise and I'll site you for contempt." That shut Bobby up in a hurry. He didn't mind his girls being in jail but he avoided it like the plague himself. That wasn't the last time I saw Bobby but I wished it had been. Getting him out of my life and into the program was the best thing the judge ever did for me. That day I and eleven other women left the court room and loaded into a white van with tinted windows. We had nothing with us but the clothes we wore and the purse or bag we were arrested with, minus contraband and anything like a cell phone or a knife. The driver was an older lady of about 40. She was blond, stocky and strong but not overweight. It was a quiet ride as none of us had any idea where we were going. Janet, the driver turned the interior lights on so we couldn't really tell where we were going. She laughed to herself. We had no idea at that time what we were getting into. I couldn't help but notice that we were an eclectic mix. I was the only Native American but there were two Asians, three Blacks, two Whites, two Latinos, an Arab and one woman I thought was an Indian that I later discovered was actually a Pakistani. We weren't in handcuffs or anything and the driver seemed unworried about her cargo despite the lack of restraints or separation from her. She drove the van into an attached basement garage of a home and parked. We exited the van and she pointed toward the steps leading to the door into the house. It looked like a well maintained, older home in a residential area from what little I could see out the open door. "Ladies," she boomed like a drill sergeant, "Welcome to the program house for the next year. Unless you screw up so bad that even I can't fix it, this is your home. I am Janet and I'm going to be living here with you. I'm a counselor, one of three, you can talk to us about anything. We are here to make you a success. The next three days will be the hardest for you. After that, you'll be assigned skills to master and your search for a job will begin. Any questions? Good!" Well, that was to the point. She didn't give anyone a chance to even speak, let alone ask a question. We followed her inside like baby ducks in a row and into the great room. This place looked like a frat house I used to party at in my early years, only much cleaner. All of the bedrooms, we were told, were on the second floor. The counselors and common areas were all downstairs. Janet's room, we later learned, was right by the only staircase. They didn't tell us about the bathrooms. Next came the real shocker. To a one, none of us in the program had a clue what we were really in for. Janet introduced the other two counselors, Kelly and Diane. Kelly was a woman not much older than most of us, which is to say she was maybe 30. Her hair was long, brunette and her figure was lean. Diane, on the other hand was a redhead, shorter and curvier with perfect teeth. Kelly addressed us next with a most authoritative tone, "Ladies, and I intend for you all to become ladies over the next year, we are going to teach you how to be able to earn a living without a needle in your arm or spreading your legs. It will not be easy and it may not work for all of you. Statistics show that one of you may fail. We hope to beat those odds with 100% graduation." Diane continued, "Over the next three days you'll become intimately acquainted with the rules and procedures of the program as well as those of your counselors. This program has been designed so that you have no choice but to succeed and virtually guarantees your compliance." Janet called our names and assigned us a room. Each of us had a private room which I thought was a pretty nice touch. Then they told us to wait in the great room as each of us was escorted to our room for the first phase of our orientation. I was not in the first or second group and I had time to browse a fashion magazine. None of the girls came back down the stairs before it was my turn so they must still be in their rooms. When it was my turn, Diane led me up the stairs and listed a few rules on the way, "There will be zero tolerance for alcohol or tobacco in the house under any circumstances so don't bring any in when you start working outside the house. Also, there will be no visitors, ever." I quietly nodded as Diane opened the door to my room and motioned me inside. It looked like a typical dorm room with a builtin bed, desk and drawers. There was a window but it did not open and it was frosted security glass. If it was a prison cell, it was nicer than any I'd seen before. The closet was empty save for a few sheets, a pillow and blanket on the top shelf. A few books sat on the shelf. A bible, dictionary, thesaurus and a few other books, classic Mark Twain and such. On the desk was a computer screen, keyboard and mouse. "There is no internet service yet. You will have to earn that and that starts now. You can, however, start a journal if you so chose. If you need help using the computer, we will conduct a class later this evening," said Diane, "Please make your bed and disrobe down to your bra and panties by the time I return which will be in about 30 minutes. Understood?" "Disrobe?" I puzzled, "Why on earth?" "This is all part of the program, Grace. This is the hard three days that were mentioned," she said, "Once we have this preliminary part out of the way, we can begin to make progress. If it helps, just imagine it as only 364 days to go." She left and I heard the door lock behind her. I tested the handle to be sure. I wasn't going any where. I did my best to make the bed. The mattress was covered in some sort of odd plastic material that crinkled when I made the bed. I sat at the desk in my underwear, a pink thong and lacy black push-up bra. I tried out the computer. It was a generic system. I used to be decent with a computer back at the school the nuns ran on the reservation. I recognized a word processor and a spreadsheet program. Diane returned, true to her word, about half an hour later. My legs were clammy from sitting on the plastic covered chair cushion. Clammy was a condition I would come to be intimately acquainted with for a very long time.

It is coming. Set for release June 22.

Can you give us a hint at the type of story you are looking for? Some of us have specialties and genres we prefer to work with. For instance, adult baby, regression, forced diapering? You can divulge that without giving the plot line away.

There was never a 442 from Mopar either. There was a 426 and a 440 but nothing bigger from the factory. No car manufacturer made a 442CID engine in my lifetime. As for a smaller displacement beating a bigger motored car, it all depends on build and combination. The Roadrunner was probably 3,700 lbs at 335 HP for a weight to power ratio of 11lbs/hp. The Mustang with the 351 probably weighed about 3390lbs and had 300HP. That makes a weight to power ratio of 11lbs/hp. Seeing that they are pretty close in weight to power, a better driver, better traction or better transmission would easily swing the needle in either direction. I used to have a 2 ton car that regularly beat lighter cars because they didn't hook and couldn't drive.

That's pretty much why I do it. I think I have a compelling story to tell and the chips fall where they may.

That sounds quite lucrative as a hobby.

Are you doing paperbacks or ebooks? Are you doing KDP Select? I looked into some other avenues to sell books but in the end Amazon was easy and consistent. I've sold quite a few ebooks and a hand full of paperbacks on Amazon. However, I make more money off of the pages read as part of KDP Select. I'm not the hugest fan of Amazon but they have the deepest market penetration and they pay after 90 days. I only mention my books here and on another forum I'm on that is a more general kink and I've never made less than $25 a month royalties. I've given a lot of my books away for a weekend here and there. Otherwise, I assume most of it is from folks finding it on Amazon through searches of keywords. I've sold to all the English speaking countries and to a few to non-English speaking countries. I'm interested in seeing what others say. i'm always looking for a better deal and sometimes the 800 lb gorilla is the winner.

This book is now live for the next week for $1.99. The description follows: This is a collection of short stories from many years ago. I've cleaned them up and spent hours adding details. I didn't feel any one of them was long enough to warrant a book of their own and bundled this into a collection I think you will find entertaining.In the first story, 'Only Memories After' follows a poor girl is left broken, near death and left incontinent with no memories of her previous life. Her struggle back to a normal life may uncover answers she does not want to discover.The second story tells the tale of a woman that orders sample diapers to find her favorite but the task proves difficult in 'Oops! I Did It Again!'In 'The Gift' we find a man that can read minds. It proves a valuable skill and makes for an interesting time when he meets a woman that hides a part of her mind from him. Then he glimpses things he can't understand but is intrigued enough to see where it leads.The story titled 'It's Just the Flu Isn't It?' follows a plague on the world that robs people of their bladder and bowel control. Will the world tear itself apart or will they accept an entire class of diaper wearing citizens?When the next story called 'Half a Life' begins, we meet a woman that hides the kinkier side of herself from her boyfriend. She plans a few days while he is out of town before things go wrong. What will become of the relationship?Then we meet a man that can induce a sudden and overpowering urge to empty the bladder. What happens when such a man plies his craft on an unsuspecting public? Better yet, what would happen if he met his match?Finally, in 'The Long Road Back' we met a woman that has a car accident and wakes from a coma, completely helpless and must be cared for as if she were a newborn. Her progression back to a functioning person is long and filled with humiliation but can she recover enough to live on her own again?

My second book of diaper short stories, titled Adult Brief Stories: Volume 2, is on sale for $1.99 this next week, May 12, 2019 8:00AM PDT through May 19, 2019. This is for the US only. The UK, starts tomorrow at 8:00AM GMT. That is a 60% savings for anyone that likes them. Link in my signature. It is still two hours away from starting in the US as I type this.