herezulo

I'm glad that you're hooked! It makes me feel good that someone can feel "hooked" on something I've written. It's even better that you'd reconsider your opinion on an entire theme due to this story. Thank you very much for reading and commenting! The next part should be out by Halloween, so keep an eye out!

This took me a little longer to write than I had imagined, especially considering that I'll need to write a third part now. As always, I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as any storytelling errors. Please enjoy! -- The walk to the party passed by in a blur. Both twins had their minds on other things. Now they stood in front of a two-story house. The street and drive-way were filled with cars, indicating just how many people were at this party. Kaylee let out a giggle. So many people were going to be fooled. She couldn't believe it. Never before had she pranked this many people. Not that she ever pulled off a prank before. She generally wasn't good at keeping secrets or fooling anyone. This was something Hailey knew well. As they walked to the door, Hailey began to lecture Kaylee again. "You can't do that in there. You know I don't giggle, right?" The younger twin couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yes, she knew that Hailey did not giggle. Her older sister laughed, and she laughed sparingly. Not that she wasn't good-humored, but, compared to Kaylee, she was taciturn. During the whole walk to the party, Hailey had been fretting about how tonight would go. She clearly didn't want anyone to find out what was afoot. She clearly didn't trust Kaylee's acting abilities either. Kaylee had been grilled about how to behave over and over again. She couldn't help but think, it wasn't like she was a real toddler. She knew how to be grown-up! "You do know that, right?" "Yes, mom." She emphasized the epithet. "It's 'little sis' tonight, okay Hailey?" The real Hailey gave a toothy grin. "Sure thing, Kaylee." She almost returned the grin but stopped herself. Big girl mode activate. "Alright, so, you're me now, and I'm you." Hailey began to reiterate. "That means you can't act like yourself. Think about how I act. Turn down the excitement. Be calm. You're gonna be mingling with a lot of my frie-" A foreign object was shoved into Hailey's mouth. She had an idea of what it was. A quick suckle revealed the object's identity. A pacifier. "Now, now, Kaylee. No need to be talking about that, when we're right here, huh?" Kaylee tried to use a syrupy-sweet tone. Tonight was not going to be ruined by her childish tendencies. Her inner adult would have its time to shine. "Let's go say hello to everyone, ok?" Maybe Hailey had underestimated her twin a little bit. The now-mature sister knocked on the door. That was the mature thing to do, after all. You didn't just walk into someone's home, even if you did know them. Only a few seconds later, the door was opened, and the pair were absorbed into the noisiness inside. A mutual friend of theirs seemed to be acting as a doorkeeper. Lindsey, a classmate of Hailey's and a babysitter of Kaylee's, greeted them. "Happy Halloween, you two!" "Happy Halloween to you too!" Kaylee replied. "Trick or treat!" Hailey replied and held out her cupped hands. That was when Kaylee noticed what Lindsey was holding. A bowl of candy. Kaylee hadn't had any candy all night, despite it being Halloween. It took all of her power not to say those magic words too. A suspicious look appeared on Lindsey's face. Both twins froze. They both thought that their plan might already be foiled. Hailey did everything she could to not react, while Kaylee already began to crack. The older twin could see Kaylee's nervousness out of the corner of her eyes. If Lindsey wasn't watching her, Hailey would've nudged her sister. Anything to remind her to keep up the act. If they were found out, Hailey didn't think she would like the potential consequences. Their mutual friend scrutinized them for a moment, before acquiescing. The candy-filled bowl was held out. "Pick whatever you want, sweetie." Hopefully that was the end of any suspicion. This was actually quite a big decision. Hailey loved Reese's Cups. It was undoubtedly her favorite candy. Kaylee didn't like them, though. She thought the peanut butter inside was gross. There were plenty of Mini-Reese's Cups in the bowl, but Hailey quickly crushed her temptations. She didn't have long to debate what candy to take. She grabbed a Mini-Snickers. Not her absolute favorite, but Snickers were good too. "Now what do you say, Kaylee?" Hailey was getting ready to say it. She swore she was. Kaylee didn't need to remind her. If she was in her normal position, however, she would've reminded her younger sister too. Good job, Hailey thought, we have to keep up appearances. "Thank you, Miss Lindsey." She made sure to add the title to Lindsey's name, just like Kaylee normally did. Hailey had to fight the beginnings of embarassment. This was normal for Kaylee. This was what she wanted. Nothing embarassing just happened. She was an adult baby, and this sort of thing was normal for adult babies like her. It was going be a long night, but it would be exactly what she asked for. "You're welcome," Lindsey turned towards Kaylee. "so, just make yourselves at home. Darren, Trudy and Emma are already here. I think they're in the backyard. We've got a playroom set up for the kids, so the little ones don't have to listen to boring grown-up stuff. And there's some pizza and drinks in the kitchen, if you guys get hungry." "Well-" "Oh, right. I totally forgot. We have juice in the fridge, and there's a few of Carrie's sippy-cups in the cupboard. There's also some jars of babyfood in the pantry, if Kaylee needs a snack tonight." Hailey wanted to cringe. Pureed foods were a normal part of life for adult babies. Not one that she was very interested in, however. When Kaylee lived at home, their parents would puree whatever was cooked for dinner, and she would get solid food regularly as a treat. Since moving into the apartment, Kaylee was only getting food from a jar. Hailey had tried it once—what caretaker hasn't—and it certainly wasn't gourmet food. "Thanks, but she should be fine. We had dinner earlier." She turned and looked at Hailey. "No sneaking any pizza, ok?" Hailey felt a bit disappointed. She probably should act more upset about the pizza. Her twin would've begged for a slice. She would've begged and begged, and Hailey probably would've given her the bland, jarred food. An idea came to Hailey's mind. How much like her older sister would Kaylee act? Would it be malicious? Would it be matter-of-fact? Would she just cave? Hailey decided to find out. "Please," She used her best whiney voice. "please, please can I have some pizza? It's Halloween!" Never in a million years would Hailey make a scene like this. It wasn't a full-on tantrum, but the woman would have normally just accepted not getting what she wanted, if it was denied to her. Kaylee's eyes went a bit wide, but they quickly gained a mischevious glint. She hadn't expected this, but she would play along. If Hailey was working hard at being her, then she better work hard at being Hailey. Kaylee forced on the sternest face she could muster. "No." One word. A simple denial of what was wanted. To Kaylee, it seemed like the most mature response. "No? C'mon, it's Halloween!" "And that means you deserve pizza?" "Well, yeah! It's a party, and I'm hungry!" "If you're hungry, let's get you something to eat, then," Kaylee grabbed Hailey's hand and began to walk towards the kitchen. Lindsey followed along. "Going to take me up on my offer after all?" "Yep." The trio entered the kitchen, where Hailey was unceremoniously instructed to sit in an adult-sized high-chair at Lindsey's kitchen table. She knew it belonged to Carrie, one of Kaylee's friends at the AB daycare, which they both attended. No fight was given on Hailey's part. After all, there was nothing unusual about Kaylee sitting down in a high-chair. The tray was brought down in front of the costumed girl, although she still had use of her arms. "Pizza?" She asked innocently. "We'll see." Kaylee said with a grin, as she and Lindsey opened up the pantry. Despite not knowing what kind of babyfood Lindsey had, the black-robe clad girl knew what she was going to pick. It was time for her to be the most mature, best, big sister ever. As the other two riffled around and murmured to eachother, Hailey looked at the boxes of pizza and breadsticks placed on the table. Delicious smells wafted towards her. If she was actually hungry, this would be torture. Good thing they really did eat dinner earlier, she thought. Tidbits of Kaylee and Lindsey's conversation could be made out from the high-chair. They were picking what flavor she was going to get. This was the real test. Kaylee had preferred flavors, and she had some that she despised. Curiosity as to what she'd get forced her to stare at the pantry door. She wished they would hurry up and choose. "Here we go, her favorite." Kaylee suddenly declared. Hailey wasn't looking forward to it, but she was very curious as to what Kaylee had decided. Was it really her favorite flavor, or was it something disgusting? "Is it really?" Lindsey must have been reading Hailey's mind. "Yes, ma'am." Hailey shot Kaylee a look. She would never call a peer that, even as a joke. Lindsey gave the woman an odd look as well. A jar—about the size of a normal peanut-butter jar—was placed on the tray in front of Hailey. The label clearly distinguished what was within. Apple Blueberry. To Hailey's knowledge, that really was Kaylee's favorite. She didn't get it often. Usually, it was used as a reward, considering how much she disliked every other flavor. To both of the twins, it made the perfect snack for the evening. "That's not pizza." The high-chair bound girl puffed her cheeks. Kaylee didn't do anything but smile. After the top was unscrewed and a pink plastic spoon was dipped in, the first of many greyish-purple, mushy spoonfuls was shoved into Hailey's mouth. She didn't resist. Kaylee would never resist. She might play at being fussy, but she was good about eating. She actually enjoyed the mushy texture, somehow. Her older sister was not a fan. It just bothered her. The feeling the texture gave her was comparable to the feeling you get from hearing nails on a chalkboard. Food should undoubtedly be chewed. Several spoonfuls in, a clear sippy-cup was placed on the tray as well. Not bothering to look, Kaylee took a sip the next chance she could. The liquid inside was grape juice, which was heavily cut with water. Cutting juice with water was a standard practice with kids, even adult kids. All the flavors were so sweet. The greasy, herbal smell of the others food on the table made a weird juxtaposition. "So, like I was saying earlier. Darren's here, and he was saying he's been having problems with..." Lindsey started into the usual, gossipy adult talk. Kaylee was occasionally nod or say a noncommital word of agreement, but everything being said was going in one ear and out the other. Tonight was going to be interesting. Kaylee always wanted to try being mature. From what she'd seen so far, however, being mature was boring. She had a hunch about that already, but none of the grown-ups ever seemed bored. They were always really involved in their conversations. Kaylee could talk like that, but not about whatever Lindsey was saying. Maybe if she was Hailey, it'd be a little more interesting. Rather bored, between having food shoved in her mouth and taking sips of juice, Hailey was looking around. She was purposefully ignoring whatever Lindsey was saying. If she started listening, she was afraid she'd seem a little too interested. Lindsey already seemed a little suspicious, and Hailey didn't want to tip her off anymore. Kaylee would never care about grown-up talk. From what Hailey saw, it looked like she still didn't care. After another spoonful from the seemingly bottomless jar, Hailey spotted someone interesting through the doorway. A boy dressed in a bee costume. Not just any boy, however. Hailey knew this person from university. Avery was one of the few adult babies that attended the school. Most just relied on finding a mommy or daddy to take care of them, but, from what Hailey had gathered, Avery wanted to be somewhat self-sufficient. Hailey watched him flutter around the room. Considering that he was walking around the party, chatting with people, and didn't have a caretaker around, it seemed that he was already fulfilling that want. Noticing that he was being stared at, he gave Hailey a glance and a wave, before turning back to his conversation. She returned his wave, although in a much more demure manner. The embarassment that she had been fighting all night became readily apparent. Lindsey noticed what had just occured. "Kaylee's got a crush, huh?" She cooed. The actual Kaylee, who hadn't been paying attention to anything else but feeding Hailey, looked back and forth at her two companions. "What? What do you mean?" It took Kaylee a second to realize that Lindsey wasn't talking about her. She mentally kicked herself. That was the least Hailey-like she'd been all night. Lindsey apparently didn't notice the uncharacteristic outburst. "She just waved at Avery Holmes. Does little Kaylee have a crush?" Hailey wouldn't call it a crush. She was just interested in the boy. She had been interested, since the first time she saw him on campus. All she could only describe him as cute. He wasn't manly in the least, and it appealed to Hailey on some level. Normally, she wasn't interested in people like him and Kaylee. There was just something different about him. She'd done her best to hide that interest, however. Kaylee gave Hailey a look. "Well, she doesn't need to be interested in boys." She felt like that was something an adult would say. Regardless of if Hailey was interested or not, Kaylee couldn't let Hailey give the impression that Kaylee was. The younger twin sighed. Her brain was starting to hurt. This swapping identities stuff was hard and confusing. "I-" Hailey was cut off, as her twin shoved another spoonful in her mouth. "-don't have a crush!" "Sure you don't, sweetie." Lindsey brushed off her denial. "I really don't!" Hailey managed to get that out before her mouth was yet again filled with fruity mush. Lindsey responded only with a grin this time. "Don't tease her too much, she really doesn't like him." Kaylee put emphasis on her statement. She realy didn't like him, regardless of what Hailey felt. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." With that, Lindsey switched the topic back to something that Kaylee didn't care about. Why couldn't they talk about cartoons or something, Kaylee thought. Before long, the jar of babyfood was empty. Hailey was definitely overstuffed. Those jars were usually sixteen ounces. Having eaten earlier, she wasn't really hungry enough for sixteen ounces of mush. She figured that Kaylee was trying her best as a caretaker, so Hailey didn't fault her too much for overfeeding her. With the feeding done, the tray was lifted up and Hailey was allowed to stand back up. "How about we head out back and mingle, and little Kaylee can go play in the playroom?" Kaylee responded to Lindsey with an affirmative. Maybe she'd have more fun mingling, whatever that meant, than just talking to her grown-up friend. Hailey, for her part, was fine with departing from the group. Maybe no one else would be in the playroom, and she'd get some alone time. Lindsey told Hailey where the playroom was—it was just Carrie's room, but it had been designated as the playroom for all the AB guests—and then the two grown-ups exited the house. It took less than a minute for Hailey to walk into Carrie's room. She'd been here numerous times before. Despite being redesignated for the night, the room was no different than usual. A twin-sized bed with rails sat in the corner. Toys were strewn about the room, as if the toy-chest against the wall didn't exist. A TV sat on-top of a small shelf in the corner opposite of the bed. Carrie had forgotten to turn it off before leaving, so a Halloween-themed episode of some cartoon was playing. Hailey decided to get right to it. She plopped down on a playmat in front of the television. The nearest toy was a plush doll, so she grabbed it and set it closer to her. If anyone walked in, it'd look a little more like she was playing with it. Now, she could really enjoy what the night was about. Diapers. Wet, crinkly, thick diapers. The same diapers that her baby sister wears. The same diapers that her baby sister was currently wearing. Hailey only hoped that the juice from earlier would go through her sooner. She'd love to wet again, especially at an almost-public party. A thought temporarily crossed her mind. How was Kaylee's diaper holding up? How was it going to hold up the rest of the night? They were both wearing the thicker, overnight diapers, but Kaylee was legitimately incontinent. If she drank enough, she could bring it to the brink of leaking without knowing. That line of thinking was quickly stomped out. Hailey couldn't think like Kaylee's caretaker right now. She was the big baby tonight, and she was going to enjoy it while she could. There were no repercussions tonight. Kaylee would get to live out her biggest desire. The one desire that she couldn't ever fulfill, not without giving everything else up. Hailey wished that her costume didn't cover the diaper. She would've loved to sit and stare at the normally-foreign object. Despite this, she gave her crotch an exploratory poke, before pressing her open hand into the front of the diaper. The warm wetness from her first-ever wetting had subsided. The thick, super-absorbant garment was just a bit damp. The dampness was almost unnoticeable. It needed to be wetter. It had to be as wet as possible. She only had tonight to experience this. Her bladder was mostly empty, but she began to push. Something had to come out. She didn't notice Avery walk into the room, until he spoke. "Trying to go potty?"

Thanks for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Unfortunately, this was just meant to be a one-shot. There really aren't enough "feel good" stories out there, although it's understandable why they aren't more common. I really like your comparison. It's all about the comfy feelings. If you haven't already, please go check out Twins! It's my newest story, and there's a part two coming up. It's also in the range of "feel good" stories.

More like a... globalized fetish world, I guess? If you've read Talentlessa's stories, I'm going for something like that. Just normal-sized people in a normal world, with ABDL stuff thrown in. I tried to spread that info around, without a straight-up info dump. Hopefully that came across well. Thanks for reading and commenting!

Thank you! The second half should be done by Halloween, at the latest.

A couple weeks ago, a nameless user on a certain imageboard posted a prompt that I really liked. I asked him if I could use it, and he allowed me to. Here is the prompt: "Twin sisters plan to dress as each other for Halloween. However, while one is an ordinary grill, the other is a Little. It's an AB friendly world, Littles are identified early on, never potty trained, kept off solids, not subject to the same education system, etc. They plan to go to a neighborhood party, the Big in all her sister's clothes but a cat ear headband and make up whiskers to at least be in a more obvious costume. The Little really wants the Big experience, and doesn't let her sister know that she didn't wear her diapers, instead sneaking a pair of panties. She should probably spend a lot of time mesmerized by the panties, the insane thinness, the texture, how she feels absolutely naked. And how she personally believes that it's the underwear that let's Bigs use the potty, so she erroneously thinks she'll be fine at the party despite never having held an ounce of anything back before. Of course an accident happens at the party, I'll leave punishments up to you, but the Little should complain a lot about how the diaper ruins her twin costume." Hopefully this story is up to that person's standards, and that I didn't deviate too far away from his prompt. Sorry for any grammar, spelling or general story-writing mistakes. Please enjoy. -- Panties. Actual, real, cloth panties. Thin, thin, thin! Kaylee wasn't just holding them. She wasn't just seeing her twin waltz around their apartment, flaunting them. Kaylee was wearing them. Despite it being un-ladylike, she couldn't help but keep her hands in her leggings, just feeling them. It was such a strange feeling, compared to her usual diapers. Thick and plastic, they added a layer of bulk and fluff around her crotch. She wiggled a bit. It was almost like being naked. Wearing a bra was maybe a more apt comparison. Normally, she wore diapers. Big, crinkly diapers. Sometimes they had cute designs, sometimes they didn't, but they were never undergarments that could be considered grown-up. No, mature. Mature is a much more grown-up word. A slight blush appeared on her cheeks at the thought. Her, wearing something other than diapers, being so mature. In the whole world, no other piece of clothing could make her more mature. Panties were the pinnacle of adulthood in her eyes. Thin, sleek, noiseless panties. She wasn't sure if they could be described as comfortable, but they were something she coveted. They weren't an object of desire just for their matureness alone. Although, Kaylee would admit—a million times—how big of a difference such a small article of clothing could make in self-image. Kaylee had a feeling that panties did more than just make someone look mature. Kaylee had never been potty-trained, like many who shared her social status. Although she knew potty-training was a thing, and she understood the ideas behind it, she had a bit of a superstition regarding underwear: What you wore determined your ability. If you wore diapers, you wouldn't make it to the potty. If you wore panties, you'd be able to hold it for hours. Deep down, she knew it was illogical. She had no evidence to back that claim up. Why wouldn't everyone wear adult underwear from the get-go? She didn't know. She just had a hunch. Hope, really. A hope that she had always kept to herself, ever since childhood. Now that she was wearing the coveted item of clothing, she felt emboldened. She wasn't supposed to wear them, since her sister thought she'd have an accident, but she snuck them on earlier. She had to. Tonight was her chance, and she had to know. It'd been at least ten minutes, and she hadn't yet wet herself. To her, it seemed like the theory was holding up. She was potty trained now. Even if she somehow really wasn't, she was just glad she got to experience the feeling of wearing an adult's underwear. It's just so incredible. Panties! Thin! Not plastic! Cloth! Mature! The slam of a door caused her hands to shoot away from her crotch, and it put a cease to her wiggling. It suddenly felt warm around her crotch. No, she couldn't have. She was wearing panties now. Kaylee instinctively sat up straighter, although she probably didn't notice the change in her own posture. Nothing was wrong. Not at all. It was just the heat from her thighs being closer together than they had ever been. She definitely didn't wet her mature underwear. Hailey, her sister, popped around the corner that lead into the hallway. She was done changing into her costume. She would've checked. She would've put her hands back to her crotch. However, Kaylee couldn't afford to let Hailey see her being so crude. That was the least of her problems, though. She couldn't let Hailey know that she was wearing panties, nor could she give an inkling of the impression that she might've wet herself. She really didn't want to be punished, not tonight. The potentially wet girl turned to look at her sister. "So, how's it look?" Hailey stuck her arms out and did a twirl. Hailey wasn't normally a twirling kinda girl. 'Adorable' was the first thing to pop into Kaylee's head, so that's what she went with. It was ironic, as that was usually how people described her. "Adorable." A big grin spread across her face. Her posture slackened. This was gonna be a great Halloween. Hailey was dressed like a kitty. She was garbed in a black onesie, which did little to hide the diaper around her waist. Kaylee could tell it was one of her overnight diapers. Thick, black tights adorned her legs. They extended all the way up into the onesie. A long black tail was attached to the rear of the onesie. The tip of Hailey's nose was black, and three black lines adorned each of her cheeks. Two cat ears, as black as her hair, stuck out of her head. Anyone that looked at her would see an adult baby, ready for an amazing Halloween. Anyone that looked at her would see Kaylee, not Hailey. Hopefully, anyone who saw Kaylee would see Hailey instead. That's what they wanted. The two were twins, and they had decided to go as eachother for Halloween. It wasn't a totally original idea. Tons of people would dress up as those they knew for the holiday. Schools had been doing "Twin Day" for spirit week since the beginning of time—not that the twins ever would've done that before, being sent to different schools and all. It wasn't an uncommon concept. What made it different, and interesting to the both of them, was who they were. Kaylee was an adult baby—or little, depending on who you talked to. Hailey was the opposite. Some might call her a big, but she didn't care for identifying herself like that. She preferred to be called an adult, if she was to be called anything. The exemplified the two types of people that existed in their world. Roughly thirty percent of people were considered adult babies. Some, like Kaylee, decided to never potty-train, if you could call childhood stubborness a decision. Some chose their station in life while young, others chose it quite late. Some dabble in it, while the majority make it a lifestyle. Whatever their story, they existed as a distinct group. Grown-ups, adults, those deemed mature by society, were the opposite. A majority of the population existed as they had since time immemorial. Some adored adult babies, and these people supported the lifestyles of many. Others just went about their lives. Hailey was firmly in the second grouping. She didn't want to adopt an adult baby, like some of her peers. She didn't visit the rent-a-baby nurseries that were currently in fashion. She didn't directly dabble in the culture, like some of her more adventurous friends. She tried to be as normal as possible. Why did she jump on the idea of being her twin for Halloween? Kaylee had no idea. Hailey was normally as far from adult-baby culture as possible. It had been Kaylee's idea. An idea that she had little hope for her serious, mature sister to entertain. To her shock, Hailey embraced it. She was even the one to suggest going as cats. She had even picked out that specific costume, which was a far cry from Hailey's usual low-effort ensembles. Kaylee felt underdressed in her sister's idea of a costume: black leggings, a black hoodie covering a t-shirt and a cat-ear headband. "Well, are we ready then?" Hailey asked. Kaylee snapped out of her slight daze and nodded her head a few times. "Remember, you're acting like me tonight. Turn on your big-girl mode, ok?" Hailey herself began to activate little-girl mode. Today, she was the overgrown baby. She'd have to start acting like it. "Sure, sure! Let me go grab my bag, then." She put emphasis on 'my.' She was Hailey now, not Kaylee. She was a mature, adult. Everyone, even their friends, would be none the wiser. She stood up and made towards their kitchenette, where Hailey usually set her bag. Only, she had forgotten something. "Kaylee. May. What's this wetspot on the couch?" Kaylee froze. Hailey's reactivated her adult mode instantly, if she had ever really deactivated it. "And why don't I see any padding on that heiney?" "Uh, well, you see..." Kaylee didn't have much of a defence for herself. She knew the rules, and she knew her body. Hailey only let Kaylee move into her apartment, since she agreed to her rules. Their parents only let Kaylee move into Hailey's apartment, since Kaylee agreed to her sister's rules. Rule one: Hailey is an adult, so what Hailey says goes. Rule two: Diapers all the time. Hailey didn't want her furniture or her carpet ruined, which Kaylee could easily do without noticing, like she just had. Hailey sighed. She wasn't angry, but Kaylee should've known better. "I know you want to be a grown-up tonight, but grown-ups know their limits, rights?" Kaylee nodded, and she started tearing up. She was in so much trouble. "That's why I told you to wear a diaper. You know the rules, sis." "Y-yea. I do." Kaylee stuttered. She was normally a really good girl. Not once had she broken one of her sister's rules. She felt the opposite of mature now. The panties were such a silly idea. "Now, now," The other twin was already in another room, grabbing a few things. She returned as quickly as she had left the room. "You're not in trouble. Too much trouble, at least. We're just gonna get this taken care of, ok?" Kaylee nodded her head, more demurely than earlier. If it had been any other night, Hailey thought, she would've actually punished her twin. Maybe a spanking, maybe a time-out, but not tonight. She wanted tonight to be perfect just as much as her twin did. Before Kaylee knew it, she was naked below the waist, and a changing mat was on the floor. "Hailey, please not tonight. I'm supposed to be a big girl." She was tearing up more, and the mature twin felt a tantrum on-coming. "Big girls wear diapers too, plus, no one's gonna notice." She wasn't totally sure about the later statement. None of Hailey's pants would hide a diaper, and Hailey almost never wore skirts or dresses, which might ruin their costume idea. She'd have to think of something. "B-but, panties!" "C'mon. It'll be okay. Lay down, so there's not anymore of a mess." Kaylee obeyed, and the whole ordeal was over in no time. Glancing at her now-soaked panties, Hailey was just glad it wasn't a pair of her 'sexy' undies. Kaylee had somehow picked out the plainest pair in the dresser. Both the leggings and the panties ended up in the trash. Hailey wasn't too interested in wearing those ever again. "Sis, there's no way anyone's gonna think I'm you in this." Kaylee tugged at the hoodie, trying to cover-up a bit. She wasn't normally one for modesty, but she had felt so adult earlier, the sudden shift was a bit much. "Don't worry, I'm thinking of something." Hailey was already cleaning the stain on the couch. There was a bottle of pet-stain remover laying around just for this occasion. Hailey wasn't totally sure it would work, but it was better than any other option. "What made you wear my panties, anyway?" She tried not to be too accusatory, her sister was beating herself up enough. The poor girl hadn't moved from by the changing mat. The loss of her first pair of panties was devastating. Her sister reminding her of her reasoning somehow made her feel worse. A stupid, childish delusion. She explained the reasoning, and she pouted when Hailey laughed. "That's something else. Mom's gonna die, when she hears that." "I'm serious, Hailey. It's not funny." Kaylee was one step away from stomping her foot. "I believe it. Never doubted you. It's just funny." Hailey paused. "It is not! Not funny at all." Another tantrum. This girl was on a short fuse tonight. "All I want is to be mature." Unlike some, it was a bit hard for Kaylee to suddenly decide to not be an adult baby. There were a few failed attempts at potty-training during their senior year of high-school. Hailey knew she'd have to nip this one in the bud too. She could not let a tantrum go unpunished, but she didn't want to ruin the night either. A solution popped into her head, one that might not work. One that she was apprehensive about. A solution that made her stomach turn with so many emotions. She wasn't against it, but she didn't know if she was ready to take this step. Forcing herself, she strode towards her sister, took her hand, and she placed it on her crotch. On one hand, this wasn't something you taught an over-grown toddler to do. On the other hand, they were the same age and Kaylee knew this was an exception. Hand in place, Hailey pushed. She knew she had to pee, at least a little. With effort, the dams burst. It felt like she absolutely flooded the diaper. She was a bit worried, despite knowing Kaylee could wear one for a full twenty-four hours with no leaks. Her cheeks were flushed. Embarassment, excitement and a bit of disgust rose in her. She almost felt the adrenaline. "S-see Hailey? Big sis is a potty-pants like you, now." She waited on edge for the response of her immature twin. "What do you mean?" Kaylee had a dumbfounded look on her face. "Did you wet yourself? I didn't feel anything." She bent over, looking as if she was inspecting her twin's nethers. Hailey backed up. How dumb, she thought. These are premium diapers. No way anyone would be able to feel her wetting through them, especially the first wetting. That thought made her blush even more. It was just a first wetting. Hailey was brought out of her thoughts by Kaylee's giggling. "Cute, super cute!" She wrapped her arms around Hailey, hugging her. "It's super cute that you would do that for me." The loss of the panties was momentarily forgotten. "That's what big sisters do." A nervous laugh escaped her lips. She couldn't believe she did that. Now, she was gonna be going to the party like this. She couldn't begin to imagine. She hadn't been this embarassed—at such a loss—since high-school. Suddenly, it came to her. The memory of a certain Halloween arose in her. The memory of an old costume, one that would fit perfectly with their theme. "I think I've figured it out, Kaylee." The twin headed towards her room, specifically her closet, while ignoring the sensations between her legs. She kept most of her clothing, even silly costumes. If it still fit, it stayed. No sense in wasting things, right? "Wait," Kaylee followed after her sister. "What is it, what is it? Panties?" She knew better, but she couldn't help but throw that possibility out there. "No, silly. Something that'll cover that crinkly butt." And there it was. In the very back of her closet, a witch's outfit, complete with hat, that she had worn their junior year of high-school. Hailey was never oen for dressing up, but her Trigonometry teacher had promised bonus points to those in costume on Halloween. Obviously, sacrifices had to be made. It was a cheap garment, but it had held up well. Better yet, it would still fit either of them. "How about this?" Hailey held the costume up to Kaylee. "That's not panties. It also doesn't seem very mature. It also also doesn't seem very like you. It also also also isn't a kitty. We won't be matching anymore." A slight frown formed on her face. "Well, think of it like this. You're a witch, and I'm your familiar." She knew Kaylee would go for this. Her eyes lit up. She loved the idea. She almost wished she could be the familiar, but that wouldn't work. Not this Halloween, at least. "What about everything else?" "It does seem very like me, since I bought it and wore it a few years ago. It does seem mature, because we can say Hailey dressed up at Kaylee's insistence. I'll play that bit up, if I need to. And, it is definitely not panties. Not much I can do about that one." Hailey answered each complaint in turn. This would work, she'd make sure of it—as much for Kaylee's sake as her own. She wanted this night just as badly. She might've wanted it worse. "Go ahead, try it on." Hailey encouraged. Kaylee deftly slipped out of the hoodie, removing the cat-ear headband first, and slipped the silky-smooth dress on. She then adorned her head with the pointy, black hat. A complaint about shoes almost escaped her lips, but Kaylee remember that she had a pair of black mary-janes that would compliment the outfit. She would put those on before they left. "It's no panties, but what do you think?" Hailey smiled, sure that her sister would love it. The smile was returned. "I think it'll be an amazing Halloween. Now, let's go, potty-pants. We have a party to get to."

Thanks for reading!

This is a great start. Interesting idea with decent execution. There were a couple spelling errors and grammar could use some work, and the non-structured storytelling makes it a little hard to get into. Still very cool, and I'm looking forward to more.

This is a lot more legible than it was previously, so you've done a good job! The grammar still isn't perfect, but it's acceptable. The theme is still great, and I'm looking forward to seeing how Kayla's six days go, especially concerning her workplace. Keep up the good work!

It probably wasn't intentional, but this story is a bit sad. Jessica might not have been meant to be pitiable, due to her prideful nature, but it's kinda sad to lose something you worked hard to earn. It downright sucks, really! Still, great work as usual.

It's kind of a sad story, but it's still cute. Melancholic might be the better word. Thank you for sharing it!

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading! There might be more in the future.

Thank you! I'm glad it was interesting, and the fact that your favorite was the first story makes me happy. It's definitely the story that got the most effort put into it. Iyyem Nimna (the Islands) definitely did get influence from the Soviets. Soviet architecture definitely inspired the descriptions of buildings. It's great that it's noticeable. I was also basing the country off of Israel and, to an extent, North Korea. All nationalist states, that imagine/have a constant, existential threat.

Thank you for reading and sharing your opinion! I do want to write another story about her at some point, but I'd like to focus on some short stories to get better at writing first. Thanks for commenting on the map. I'm more pleased with it than the story. The contrast settings on my monitor are weird, apparently, so I didn't realize that map would be hard to read. Here's a (hopefully) more legible version.

Thank you, I'm glad that you'd like to read more stuff by me. For the first story, I think I might have muddled/obscured things up too much. It's supposed to have the conclusion that she joined her nation's military, due to it's culture of compulsory service and an "Us vs. Them" mentality of a nation of Littles in a world controlled by Amazons. Looking back, I think I assumed that this would come across better than it did. The second story was definitely the worst of the three. It was just boring, uninspired and directionless, on top of being poorly written. The third story suffers a bit from what the first one does, but much less so. It's definitely a story that someone who enjoys more BDSM, control-oriented stuff.

Thanks, I'm glad you found it interesting and enjoyable. There were supposed to be two other stories covering two different nations, but they didn't work out.

Thanks. I think it's justified, when it's not really great. I'm glad you could get enjoyment out of it, though! Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed them as well.

Thanks, I thought that having different perspectives would be an interesting way of showing different ways of life.

This is a collection of three short stories. They're all bad and unedited. There were supposed to be two more stories, but I couldn't work up the motivation to work on them. I'm only posting these, despite knowing they're bad, to get them off of my mind. These were supposed to be a way of world-building, or taking world-building and appying it to a story, but that didn't work out. I also tried to write in different perspectives, tenses and styles, but that didn't work either. I'm much more proud of the map, which I'm attaching to the end of this post, even though it's nothing special. Obligatory disclaimer: there's no canon diaper dimension, outside of the original author's stories, and I don't claim that my little world-building experiment is canon or the end-be-all. Hopefully, someone can get some enjoyment out of these three stories. --- 1. Iyyem Nimna "And that concludes the chapter on the morality of universal conscription and the duty of citizens. Anyone have any questions? No one? Anyone have any topics they'd like to bring forward for discussion? No one again?" Doctor Sobol is only met with a resounding response of cricket chirps. He looks down and adjusts his brown blazer. I feel bad. Sobol is a sweet old man, and he has a passion for the subject. I could maybe bring something up, but I want to get home. He definitely didn't expect a response, though, so I don't feel bad about staying quiet. History & Moral Philosphy courses were mandatory but unfailable. Even in this class, filled with second-year university students, half of the room is asleep. "Alrighty then." He looks up at the clock behind him. "We'll let out early. You're all dismissed. Get home safe, everyone." The professor goes and sits at his desk. My classmates begin to wake each other up and gather their things. I do the same. I slip my book, notebook, and pencil into my bag. Standing up, I take my jacket off the back of my chair and put it on, alongside a hat and gloves. Finally slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make a beeline for the door alongside my classmates. "Miss Hillam!" Damn it. "Miss Hillam, please come to my desk for a moment." Damn it. Damn it. I turn around and make my way to his desk. "Yes, Doctor?" Please, don't take too long. "Sorry to keep you, I just wanted to double check..." As he spoke, my brain tuns him out. Blah, blah, blah. Nod my head, say an affirmative at pauses, look him in the eye, and pray that he doesn't talk for too long. Yes, yes, I am listening, sure. Something about graduate school opportunities. Not interested. I plan on serving my two years after I get my undergraduate. Do my part, and all that. Still, I try to act interested. "Alrighty, thank you for your time, Miss Hillam. You have a good evening." "You too, Doctor Sobol." With that, I finally leave. "Thank God." I mutter under my breath, as I pass the threshold of the doorway. It isn't that I hate Doctor Sobol or History and Moral Philosophy. Lots of people do, and for good reasons. I'm not mong them. Doctor Sobol is a passable teacher, who has the best in mind for his students, and H&MP is my minor, actually. No, my reason for wanting to get home is much different. An unshareable secret. Something incredibly shameful. Many could even argue that it's unpatriotic. I'm liable to agree at times. Cold wind slams into my face like a semi-truck as I step outside of Shenur Hall. Winter on the archipelago isn't as bad as in some places, but it's still rough. Half a foot of snow is on the ground, and the temperature is negative six celsius. A chill sweeps through my body with every gust of wind. A very rough walk to the dorms awaits me. The paths and walkaways around the university are clear of any other students, as most are still in class, so my walk is peaceful and unexciting. The university isn't and has never been the most beautiful place. It's absolutely nothing compared to cities on the mainland, apparently. It's utilitarian through and through. Multi-story. Concrete and steel. Each building is hardly distinguishable from the next, except for the placards indicating building names and purpose. Passing featureless after featureless building, I eventually find my destination. Zim House. My dorm, just the same as every other building. A set of metal doors imposingly sit at the end of the path. Entering any door in the university requires a student or staff ID. I fish mine out of my bag. One quick swipe, and the heavy doors open. Once entering, a reception desk sits right across from the door. The usual receptionist, a classmate, doing his cozy work-study job, greets me as I enter. "Hey, Aliza. Package for you." I freeze. Panic. Stay calm. There's no way he knows what it is. He's not allowed to look in it. Panicking makes him think something's wrong. Stay calm. Stay calm. He bends over and effortlessly places the package on the counter. "Pretty big box for something so light." "Yea, kinda weird." Dangerously weird. I chuckle, even though I don't mean it. "Thanks, Sam." "No problem. See you in class, tomorrow?" "Sure. See you later." I grab the package and vacate the area as fast and inconspicuously as possible. Close. Way too close. No idea what I would've said had he asked what was in it. I was lucky. Now, I'm excited. It's here. I'm holding it in my arms. The object of my desires. Objects, more accurately. Twelve glorious objects, plus some extras. Involved in every lustful fantasy I've had since puberty. Tonight was going to be the best night ever. My dorm is on the second story, and it is close to the stairwell. It's small. There are only two rooms, a private bathroom and the living area. The living area is a combined kitchenette and bedroom, with just enough room for my bed, a wall-locker, and a desk. My room is still in it's usual spick-and-span state, with a clear floor, organized desk, and well-made bed. Not that I expected anything less. I place my package on the floor. Immediately, I pry the tape off, and open up the cardboard box. Inside, another box peaks out at me. I see a recognizable logo on the top end of the box. Littles R' Us, one of the premier sellers of Little-care goods. The bane of free Littles. Hesitantly, I open the box. A case of twelve diapers take up most of the container. Diapers. A forbidden word. Something that I, as a college-aged member of my race, can never think about, outside of child-rearing. A much-hated object in this country. The subject of numerous propaganda posters and films. A symbol of oppression across the world. On top of the case are a few items. Some baby powder, some wipes, a pink pacifier, a DVD case, a stuffed bear, and a baby bottle. I knew what the box would contain, but it is still baffling. A starter kit, that I bought. I'm betraying my people and my country. I know it. I can't think like that, though. This is my biggest fantasy. Twelve diapers and some baby stuff, meant for no one but me, to enjoy in private. No one was being harmed. Sure, I funded a Little-supplies manufacturer on the mainland, but what is a drop in the ocean of money they make from Amazons? Besides, the deed is already done. Agonizing over that would be silly. Pushing my worries aside, I want to immediately dive into my new possessions. The pacifier is the first thing I reach for. I stop. No, I can't. There are preparations to make first. Tonight is going to be the amazing. First things first, I need to boil some water. A pacifier and a bottle are supposed to be sterilized before use. As the pot of water heats up, I decide to get changed. My winter-wear is put away, leaving me in just a shirt and jeans. Like all of my clothes, my shirt is plain. It's just a simple white t-shirt. I slip the jeans off. For right now, just my shirt and plain panties will be sufficient. I don't intend on being in the latter very long. Soon, I hear the whistle of boiling water and plop the two items into the pot. I can't wait. This is going to be great. Pacifiers have always fascinated me, and I assume I'll like mine. And drinking out of a bottle? Nothing is more babyish. It means you can't be trusted not to spill. As the pacifier and bottle sterilize, I open the case of diapers. It's time. I slip off my panties. Then, I grab the bottle of powder and spread the diaper out on the floor. It needs to be as flat as possible. Powder is sprinkled onto the inside of the diaper and onto my nethers. Next, I sit down on it, and pull the front up onto me. Some of the powder falls from the diaper onto me. Then, I tape it. Two tapes, one on each side. The right tape is first, and then the left. This is it, my very first diaper. My cheeks heat up at the thought. Standing up, I check the leak-guards and see how it feels. Never having been diapered before, I'm unsure, but it seems to be secure enough. To kill the next minute or two before the pacifier and bottle are sterile, I pick up the DVD case and look at it. Its purpose seems to be two-fold. The DVD has a few instructional videos, such as 'How to Change a Diaper.' A cartoon, intended for babied Littles, is also included. That's not good. That's not good at all. Cartoons are tools of the Amazons. Most of them hypnotize Littles, either outright making them mindless or giving them babyish traits. The title of the cartoon is 'Bee and Me.' Note to self: look it up. It might not hypnotize me if I watch it. I've heard that not every cartoon for Littles does that. Setting it back in the box, I walk to the kitchenette to fish the pacifier and bottle out of the pot. Finally, they're done. I wipe the pacifier off with a napkin and let it cool a bit, before popping it into my mouth. It isn't an inflateable pacifier, but it still takes up a sizeable portion of my mouth. Uncomfortable, isn't quite the word. Awkward? Maybe. I try suckling it, like a baby would. Easier said than done. The act is unnatural. My muscles have to work to suck. Not how I imagined it would be, but keeping it still in my mouth is okay. Grabbing the stuffed animal and DVD, I sit down at my desk and open my laptop. Time to do research. According to a couple forums I browse, the show is safe for consumption. No hypnosis, no Amazon-magic, it's just a normal cartoon. Good, now I have something to entertain myself with. The DVD is popped into my laptop. The stuffed bear finds its place in my arms. Comfy. Instantly, I've taken to this. The bear is the perfect size. Not too big, but not so small that it's uncomfortable to hug. Besides that, it's soft. Incredibly soft. I'll be keeping this for the rest of the night, surely. Cartoon time. I click the play button on my screen, and then lean back into my chair. Ready to be fully engrossed in this cartoon. Thirty minutes later, and it was just okay. The show was decent. It was childish, but it was also clearly meant for a Little with their adult faculties. The cartoon follows the adventures of Bee, a Little in a bee-patterned dress. The 'and Me' from the title refers to the viewer. Me, in this case. She talks to and tries to engage the viewer. Requesting that I say a phrase to help her on her journey, and the what-not. The colors were incredibly bright, and it gave off a cheery atmosphere. It was silly. Too silly for me. Maybe it's just the first episode. I'll have to give it another one or two episodes to really judge it. My stomach growls. It's time for dinner, not another episode. Quickly, I fix a cup of instant noodles and scarf it down, while watching the second episode. Another thirty minutes and the second episode of the show is done. I'm still not very interested. I'm much more interested in what's going on in my body. An immense pressure has made itself known in my bladder. I have to pee. The event I've really been waiting for. I decide not to try and hold it, as that would be pointless. Releasing your bladder into your pants is a lot harder than I thought, however. The forums I read talked about this, but I never thought it'd be like this. I stand up from my chair and head to the kitchenette. I flip the faucet on and croutch slightly. The feeling is like I'm about to burst. My body keeps trying to hold it in, while my mind is telling it to let go. My mind wins the fight, and a wet heat spreads through my diaper. No stopping it now. The combination of release and warmth over my privates is awesome. Incredible. This is the best thing I've ever felt. Even better than an orgasm, maybe. I finish my business. The padding doesn't even feel wet. That's crazy. It's warm and moist, but it doesn't feel like I'm sloshing around in piss. It's heavier, certainly, but that makes it even better. It's made to be comfortable for the wearer, but it still lets me know what I did. I pissed in my pants, like a baby. Oh god, this is great. I fiddle around with my diaper a bit. Shaking my hips, feeling the diaper move slightly. I check myself, like an Amazon would. Two fingers inbetween my legs. And finally, I croutch all the way, and then I plop down onto the floor. God. I rock back-and-forth on the floor a couple times. This is really something else. It's not just something else. It's hot. The hottest thing ever. My cheeks are flushed by this point, and my privates aren't just wet from the pee. I'm horny. I start rubbing the front of my diaper. Wait, wait, no. It's too soon. The diaper has taken one, only one, wetting. I can't waist it already, can I? I glance over at the pack of them. There are eleven left after this one. That's enough. Eleven can last me a long time, I bet. Whereas, I can't last another minute without going insane. I need to cum. Somehow, I manage to get onto my bed. Time for things to heat up. I go wild on the plastic garment. Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing. Pressing as hard as I can. Harder, harder, harder. More, more more. It feels so good. My mind drifts to one of my favorite fantasies. An Amazon man, a vague and hazy shape. No real appearance to the figure. I can hear him saying embarassing, demeaning things. Silly, soggy girl. No better than any other baby. Aww, sweetie, you don't need a change. You won't need a change for hours. Dumb babies like you are used to sitting in their waste. Close, so close to climax. So close. And then it happens. Something else squirts into my diaper, and my pleasure ends. And the disgust sweeps in. Did I really just do that? Yes, yes I did. Here I am, post-orgasm, sitting in a used diaper. What if someone walked in right now? What would my parents say? They'd be upset. Grossed out, disappointed, and upset. How could their daughter be a degenerate traitor? Most Littles are oppressed, and they would do anything to be in a free country, like me. And here I am, wasting it. Using my merciful existence to piss in a diaper and then masturbate. Using it to waste my night and my money on stupid baby-stuff. I'm awful. I'm a horrible, awful person. I need to do something to correct myself. Something to get myself off this path. I know. Instead of being conscripted after college, I'll enlist tomorrow. That'll turn me into an upstanding citizen, instead of a traitor. I stand up and I rip off the used diaper. I throw it into the trash-can, and I follow that up with the rest of the starter kit. The remaining eleven diapers, the bear, the pacifier, the bottle, and the DVD all end up in the trash. Throwing on my clothes from earlier, I exit my room, trash-bag in hand. These items had to be removed from my room. As I walk into the lobby, I remember something. Sam. He's supposed to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior. Hopefully he doesn't suspect anything. He shouldn't be able to smell the used diaper or me. Just act natural. All I'm doing is taking out some trash. I wave as I walk by the receptionist, and he waves back. Good. No issue. After returning to my room and getting a quick shower, I fall into my bed. I'm not tired, but I'm not sure what to do either. How could I do that, really? Why am I interested in this stuff? I'm a Little. Not just any Little, but a Little in Iyyem Nimna, the only free country in the world. Taught from birth that diapers, on an adult, are oppressive. Taught that no fate is worse than being an Amazon's ward. Instead of doing something meaningful, I spent my night betraying every Little that is and ever has been. Well, no longer. Tomorrow I'll go to a recruiter. Everyone has to serve at some point, so they'll definitely take me. I'll get my two years in, be turned into a better woman, and come back to university free of my desires. With that, I closed my eyes. Maybe sleep will take me soon, so tomorrow will come quicker. The next day, I really did go to the recruiter. I took the oath before lunch, and I was sent to training by the end of the week. 2. Neustria Daily life is a routine. No one can expect every moment of every day to be exciting. The most anyone can expect is normal, which for most, ends up being the same thing every day. You have to get up at this time, you have to get to work by that time, you eat right after you get home, and you fall asleep after your favorite TV show. It's just the way it is. Most people thrive off of this lifestyle. Some people say that, like children, Littles especially need a strict schedule. How true is that? I'm not sure. I do know that I have been subject to a strict routine, and I'm no worse for wear. My days used to start at six o'clock in the morning. The first thing I would see was my mommy's gorgeous face staring down at me. Her straight black hair, already done up. Her makeup was perfect, as always. No bags under her eyes, and not a single yawn escaped her mouth. I don't know how she did it, when she always woke up before me. She would gentley shake me, and say something cutesy in a sing-song way. My replies were much less enthusiastic, but I'd do my best to act sweet. We weren't in love. Unlike some people, our agreement was based on money. She payed me to be a baby, for four years, so I tried my hardest to be the baby she wanted. She wanted sweet and cuddley, so that's what I gave her. We would then venture over to the changing table. Changes were talking time, in her eyes, so we would chat. About how we slept, our dreams, that kind of stuff. Within moments, my face would be pressed into her chest, doing my best to be her baby. She loved to carry me everywhere. I could walk, and I was allowed to, but she enjoyed it. Being honest, the enjoyment was mutual. I begged to be picked up, as often as she swept me into her arms without warning. She might bounce me around for a bit, while watching the news, or we might head straight to the dining room. By this point, Mommy would have already eaten. My stomach would be running on empty, though. Having already eaten, Mommy would spoon feed me. Even my food was on a schedule. Fridays, for instance, were always oatmeal and blackberry-blueberry-prune babyfood. Being the angel I still am, there was never a mess. Mommy guided the food into my mouth, and she never purposefully got it on me. I always readily accepted. A bottle of forumla accompanied my meals. Not many Littles get formula, due to their prescence inducing lactation in female Amazons. Mommy was one of the few female Amazons who didn't have this happen. She could induce it with medication, but we agreed to go with formula instead. After breakfast, we'd meander back to my room. I was always dressed after I ate, so that my clothes didn't get dirty. Pajamas could get a few stains. The pretty dresses, onesies, and shirts that I had weren't allowed to get even a speck of dirt, though. We would dig through my closet, taking our time. Mommy would hold up one article of clothing after another. I would throw out suggestions, but rarely did they matter. Not that I cared too much. Baby clothes are baby clothes. Whatever was picked for me was fine, but I still had preferences. Eventually, Mommy would find the 'perfect' outfit for me. She'd set me down, just to slip it on me, and then I would be back in her arms. After that, with time to spare, we'd be out the door to start the day. A high-rise office-building was our destination. Mommy was some sort of executive. What her job was, exactly, I still don't know. We would arrive at the office a little before eight. Being carried in her arms, I'd be taken to the company daycare on the second floor. This was where my weekdays were spent. Often, my saturdays were spent there as well. A good chunk of the floor was dedicated solely to the adopted Littles of employees. We had a room for everything, from a gym to a napping room. After getting out of the elevator, we'd only have to walk a short distance down the hallway before seeing a set of glass doors. This was the lobby. Decorations were simple here, as it was mostly a place of business. A wooden door, next to the check-in desk, was the most stand-out part of the room. It was always covered in papers with crayon-scribbles on them. A staff-member, normally a nice lady by the name of Miss Tina, would be behind a desk opposite the doorway. Mommy would check me in, and then I'd be carried through the wooden door. This led into the main playroom. Setting me down onto the carpeted floor, Mommy would give me a peck on the forehead before heading off. The playroom was colored in bright pastels. There was consistently a mess of toys all around the room. Already, at around eight in the morning, several Littles would be running around, with all the energy in the world. A few of my peers might be hidden in the nap-room. Unless I was particularly tired, my destination would be a table in the corner. It was made of plastic, and it was way too small for an Amazon. There were no chairs, just a few Little-sized beanbags. This was one of a few tables spread around the room, dedicated to activities like coloring. Coloring was my favorite activity. It's just childish enough to make my mommy and the staff happy, yet it passed the time easily. It was something I could really lose myself in. Most weekdays, there'd usually be someone else at the table. A couple other Littles and I had become something akin to friends. Lauren was a sweet girl, a former college student, who fell in love with an Amazon man. Connie was a chatterbox, who was adopted for the same reason as me. We talked a lot, and we kept each other entertained. Initially, our bond was formed over a shared love of coloring, but it wasn't the only thing we did to keep busy. Boardgames were something we spent a lot of time on. We also occasionally took part in group activities, and the classes that the daycare offered. Classes at daycares were and still are fairly common. Most can't offer much more than the standard ballet lessons, which every Amazon adores, and Little Studies classes. The ballet lessons are so common due to the high-demand from Amazon parents, and the Little-studies classes were cheap, usually taught by volunteers from a local university or a local Little Studies club. Some, like my former daycare, did a rotating schedule of classes. Alongside the classics, we'd have a cooking class one week, a crafts class the following week, and so on. We had a choices of three different lessons each morning. Classes started at ten and ran for two hours. Very rarely did our little clique go for these classes. Most weren't very interesting, and some were downright degrading. We also didn't care to have a class monopolize our free time. For the most part, daycare was a humdrum escape from our adopted families. It was a chance for some to stop acting babyish. For others, it was several hours away from your over-bearing love. The staff, being few in number, only bothered their wards when necessary. Something that interested me, when I first went to daycare, was the amount of Amazon staff. There was hardly any. A few workers, and whoever taught the classes for that day. Turns out, Littles-only daycares didn't require as low of a caretaker-to-child ratio. For actual children, the law requires a 1:4 ratio, whereas for Littles, there's no mandated ratio. So, plenty of places skimped on staffing. Lunch happened at around noon, right after classes let out. A normal lunch consisted of oatmeal, pureed fruit and veggies in a jar, and a drink. Oatmeal was easy to make in large batches, so that's what the staff defaulted to making for us. We got to pick our puree from the daycare's selection. My favorite was the plain banana, but sometimes I got stuck with something gross, like pickled plum and peas. The drink was usually formula for me. A lot of other Littles had breastmilk, that their Mommies had sent in. Due to the lack of staff, we either had to wait to be fed or use our hands. A lot of us regularly used our hands, making an incredible mess for the staff to clean up. After lunch, we'd be put down for a nap. That didn't necessarily mean we had to sleep. One of the classrooms would be used for quiet-time, where Littles who didn't want to nap could sit and read, or do any number of quiet activities. There was a dedicated napping room, with a few rows of cribs. The staff would help us in one-by-one. Naptime lasted an hour, usually. We could nap longer, if we wanted, but I usually didn't. Being an adopted Little means early bedtimes, so I got plenty of sleep at home. I always took the chance to sleep at naptime, though. The rest of the afternoon was basically free time. Lauren, Connie and I would sit at our table and mess around. We might play a board game to pass the time, or we might just sit and chit-chat. None of our adopted parents got off of work until five. We would have plenty of time to laze around until then. If we were really adventurous, we might go to the gym and play tag. Afternoons would usually pass slowly. We'd slowly lose our peers, as they got picked up by their Amazons. Until, eventually, ours came for us. Our parents, knowing we were friends, might make us hug eachother and wave goodbye. Then, I'd be on my way home. Despite still being scheduled at home, things would be a little unpredictable. Mommy made sure that she got some playtime with me, for at least an hour. We'd play babyish games together. Pattycake was one of her favorites. We might just cuddle during playtime. She might put me in my stroller and take me for a walk. Anything could happen. Dinner would usually be whatever she cooked but pureed. I wasn't always happy with that, but I had to stomach it. Bathtime was usually at eight. Mommy would always get the temperature just right, and she'd gentlely clean me. Baths were always nice. Bedtime followed bathtime. I'd usually be tucked in by half-passed eight. Mommy might read me bedtime story, or she might simply give me a kiss on the head before leaving. That was my average day, when I was an adopted Little. Schedules are good for you, and I didn't mind my tedious day-to-day life. Even to this day, I still wake up at six o'clock. Although, I usually roll over and go back to sleep. I still eat around the same time, and I get tired around the same time. I listen to my body, like most people should. That's a benefit of being adopted. Someone else listens to your body for you. Sometimes, they shape your body's needs, within reason. I'm definitely not worse for wear. 3. Hesperia Life sucks. That's a phrase you hear thrown around quite a bit, by people who don't know how good they really have it. For me, life really does suck. I'm in the worst position possible. I'm a Little in the worst country to be a Little. Hesperia is one of the few countries to have fully exterminated their Little population. So they use people from my home, a so-called protectorate controlled by Hesperia, as their human farm. Not only that, they did a ninety-degree moral turn from those days. Instead of killing us, they torture us. They own us, and they treat us however they want. They put on a veneer of babying us, but it's to further humiliate and destroy us. It's to give a justification for owning and hurting us. My life is one of torture. I didn't get a 'good' Amazon, even though they do exist here. I didn't even get a 'neutral' Amazon, one who would act a strict mother. That's what most Littles here end up with. No, I got a 'bad' Amazon. Horrible might be a more apt description, really. An Amazon that gets her sadistic rocks off by using me. Ever since I turned eighteen, and I was shipped here, it's been nothing but a nightmare. Some would count me lucky that I didn't just get hypnotized or have my mind turned to mush. That's unlucky, in my opinion. Lucidity is a curse in my state. Right now, I'm in a crib at daycare. The lights are dim and the snores of napping Littles fill the air. Some might think this as a respite, but it's not. Daycare workers have to treat me, in accordance with my adoptive mother's requests. There's no laws regarding Littlecare in Hesperia, so those requests don't make the workers look twice. The worst thing is, I don't get changed. Mommy changes me once a day, usually before bed. Due to what she feeds me, my diaper rarely stays dry or clean for very long. I spend most days at daycare, today included, filthy. Mommy is merciful, however, and usually uses a cream to prevent rashes. Many Littles, especially the 'infants' like me, spend a lot of time in dirty diapers. I know, because in my crib, I don't just get to smell mine. The stench of a dozen or so messes waft around in this room. Naptime is always right after lunch. I don't know if every daycare does that, but this one does. Today, I had pickled sausage, sauerkraut, and apple. All mixed up, pureed, and in a jar, of course. It was spoonfed to me. Miss Kathy, the worker assigned to feed me, made sure to get as much of it on my face as in my mouth. She blamed me. That was typical. I did gag and try to refuse, but she's the one who continued to shove the horrid goop at me. Thankfully, I wasn't punished for my disobedience right then. Miss Kathy said she'd tell Mommy, which means I'll be punished later. I wonder what the punishment will be. Maybe a dozen swats on the back of my thighs, in addition to my normal, daily spanking? Maybe I'll have a soap-flavored pacifier in my mouth all night? Maybe I'll be forced to eat my bodyweight in the goop from earlier? Maybe she'll use that implant to shock me until I pass out? The last outcome would be the best. Shocks aren't that bad, and passing out is always a god-send here. Maybe Kathy won't even tell my mommy? She might forget by the end of the day. It's an unlikely option, but it is a possibility. It didn't matter much. Sometimes I wonder why I think so much, and about everything that happens. Then I remember, there's just not much for me to do. Being classified as an 'infant' meant that I didn't get to do much. Mommy wasn't big on surgeries, but she made sure I had a few big ones, when she first got me. The worst one was the surgery that ruined my motor-skills. No walking for me anymore. Doing anything but flail my arms is a herculean task. Rolling-over is the best I can do. Tummy-time was the extent of my athletics. The almost-as-bad surgery was the one that took my teeth. No more pearly-whites, just gums. Mommy justified it by saying that it was safer to nurse me. I can still talk, though, even if it doesn't sound right. Not that I talk much anyway, as talking out of turn or saying the wrong thing gets me punished. The other, much more benign surgery, put that implant in me. The implant gives Mommy and the daycare staff a lot of control over me. They can temporarily make me mindless, shock me, control my emotions, remove skills, and do the whole nine yards. It was mainly used to shock me. Mommy rarely makes me mindless, and the daycare staff has never used that feature, so I'm sure Mommy told them not to. Same deal with removing skills. The daycare staff has used it to make me stop crying or stop throwing a hissy-fit, by changing my emotion, but Mommy has never done that. She feeds off of those emotions. Anything negative energizes her. Like I said, I got the worst kind of Amazon. A complete sadist, with no regard for a lesser being's feelings. I wonder when she'll be here to get me. Clocks are almost never in view, and a Little asking for the time here would be punished severely. I've never been here past dark. That could mean anything, though. It must be around noon, yet lunch could be anywhere from ten in the morning to two in the afternoon. We have snacktimes and a schedule, yet the time is still difficult to ascertain. I have no clue when I get to daycare. I have no basis to use to determine the time. The date is also unknown to me. My mommy has thrown me several birthdays since my arrival, but who knows how real they are? They're definitely not my real birthday. They might be a year from the day she adopted me, but she might've thrown two birthdays in the same year, just to confuse me. Mommy is like that. One of the daycare workers, Miss Paula looks down over me. It must be the end of naptime. "Peee-yew, what a stinky girl." She paused, and then quickly added. "You best get some rest, or your mommy is going to hear about it." No emotion came up in me. I'm long over being embarassed over words, and Mommy doesn't scare me much. Miss Paula leaves my view. She wanted to get a rise out of me, and she didn't get it. Naptime is definitely over, for most of the Littles here. 'Infants' get longer naptimes. Most of the day, in fact, is naptime for us. The 'toddlers' just had a nap after lunch. Unlike most of the others in my classification, I still have my mind. When the staff talk to me, they know that I understand it. They've made a game out of getting a response from me. Miss Kathy won today, with that disgusting flavor of babyfood. Miss Paula, with milque-toast comments like that, did not win. As the staff walk around, waking up the 'older' Littles, I close my eyes. Miss Paula is probably right, though. I do need to get some sleep. It's hard to do, since I don't really have an infant's sleep-schedule. Most of my day, every day, is spent in a crib. As a free woman and an adult, I slept around eight hours a night. I assume I still do. A little nap never hurt anyone, so I make the effort to actually try to go to sleep. My favorite day-dream soon fills my mind. I'm back home. I'm a free woman, instead of a plaything. I have a loving husband, and we've started a family. Our day-to-day life runs through my head. Teaching our kids and working on our farm. Even the mundane things, that I have no hope of doing ever again, run through my mind. Using a toilet and eating real food are my favorites. Soon, sleep takes me, and I get a brief reprieve from my mundane yet torturous life.

I'm really enjoying this! The magical/cursed booties are a brilliant idea, and Chalice is such a lovely, spoiled brat. Keep up the good work!

Very glad to see you writing this again! It's one of the best diaper-dimension stories out there, from one of the most talented authors in the ABDL community. Keep up the great work!

This was great! Alex's conversation with Sarah, and the "potty instruction" at the end were fantastic and super demeaning. The latter is an especially underused, yet incredibly hot, concept. Keep up the good work!

Thanks for reading, I'm glad you enjoyed it! It's wonderful that you found their meeting to be unique. It's also wonderful that you like this story enough to give it a like. That makes me happy.

This was such an excellent story. It's been a wild and entertaining ride. Thank you for all of your hard work and dedication to completing this!

Thank you, I'm happy that you found enjoyment in it. Thank you as well! Mostly consensual, loving stories are my favorite, and we don't have enough DD stories that fit the bill.