Babypants

You both have the right attitude. Your relationship should prosper.

My take on this. THE 10 BEST COLESLAWS IN AMERICA: 1. Payne’s Bar-B-Que (Memphis, TN) … neon yellow mustard 2. Lexington BBQ (Lexington, NC) … vinegar/tomato sauced 3. Lockhart Smokehouse (Plano, Dallas TX) … bleu cheese 4. Kerlin BBQ (Austin, TX) … bleu cheese CLOSED 5. Big Guys BBQ Roadhouse (Hudson, WI) … smoked 6. Herman’s Ribhouse (Fayetteville, AR) … traditional 7. Opie’s Barbecue (Spicewood, TX) … traditional 8. Double B’s BBQ Restaurant & Timbers (West Allis, WI) … traditional 9. Meat Boss (Cottage Grove, AL) … traditional 10. Scott’s Kitchen & Catering (Kansas City, MO) … jalapeno apple

Now, it's time for you to get her to open up about her fantasies, which may or may not be erotic. You want to reciprocate if at all possible.

Thanks for coming on board. I appreciate reader input.

Not Catalina. We need an island that in 1979 was not only deserted but habitable, including intact structures that could serve as barracks and classrooms. Keep zeroing in.

Step up to the plate, readers. How much would you bid for the privilege of putting Sarah down for the night in diapers and baby pants?

THE DIAPER YOUR FAVORITE NURSE AUCTION “Mom, Miss Marshall. Here for the auction?” “Yes, Dear, but first we need to pay a visit to the lab. Can you take us there?” “That's my job, Mom!” “Cindy, you look wonderful in that outfit.” Suzie thought Cindy made a darling candy striper. She was every bit as beautiful as her mother, but the uniform made her look innocent, and that was no mean feat. “Thanks! It's really cute. Mom, did you bring your checkbook? The auction's being held in the cafeteria, and the lab is a hop, skip and a jump down the corridor. So, let's go that way; then you won't get lost when I abandon ship!” “My checkbook is at the ready, Dear, but it has yet to recover from our weekend at the mall. We're just here taking taking notes for when we auction off Priscilla Canon.” “Great. Miss Marshall, did Missus Miller talk to you about making the auction house against house?” “This morning, and I think it's a great idea. It should really inspire some spirited bidding. God knows, the scholarship fund needs all the help it can get.” “Fantastic! Well, here's the cafeteria. As you can see, the masses are already assembling. Anyway, we go this way. The lab's up ahead on the right.” Cindy turned into a foyer, and walked up to the counter. “This is Rhonda,” she said as she nodded at the lady behind the counter. “She'll take care of you. Bye!!” And with that, Cindy was off. “My daughter.” Emily's tone was slightly apologetic. Cindy was a force of nature, and it sometimes took people a while to warm up to her. “You must be so proud of her,” Rhonda beamed. “She's a wonderful young woman, and we are very fortunate to have her volunteering here. She's so cheerful; even that thick diaper doesn't slow her down.” “Actually, she likes it,” Emily confessed. “She's always been a bit top heavy, but now she thinks her body looks more balanced. And the boys love the diapered look. She's incredibly popular.” “Easy to understand why. Now, how can we help you?” “I have an appointment with Linda,” Suzie announced. “For a fertility test,” she added lamely. Rhonda looked in the appointments book. “Ah, yes, here you are. Let me see your driver's license, and I'll check you in.” Suzie fished it out of her purse, and Rhonda began filling out her particulars on a health history form. “Take a seat and fill this out,” she instructed. “Pass it to Linda when she collects you.” “Em, how many of these have we filled out over the years,” Suzie moaned as she began working her way first down one column and then the next. When she had finished the front, she turned the sheet over and resumed on the back. “All of our misdeeds reduced to a few check marks,” Emily lightly laughed. Some of hers had earned a stern lecture when she first learned that she was pregnant with Cindy. “Miss Marshall? I'm Linda, head of department. Have you been tested before?” Suzie shook her head. “Well, it won't take very long … a simple blood draw to check your hormone levels. We should have the results ready by the end of the auction. You going?” “Our next stop.” Suzie smiled for the first time. “Will this test tell me whether I still have eggs in my basket?” “Yes, definitely. Normally, I'd say that you should then make an appointment with your Doctor for a complete physical, but it looks like Sarah will be taking care of you. You couldn't be in better hands. Ready?” “Ready,” Suzie got out. . . . . “Welcome, everybody, to this year's edition of our annual Christmas auction, once again organized by Manny Cepeda so that we might buy presents for the underprivileged children living all around us. Manny, stand up and take a bow.” Gayle Soderberg, who was running the auction, passed the microphone. “Thank you, Missus Soderberg. This year's event is different from anything we've done in the past, so unique that we have even drawn the press to attend. I'd like to welcome Emmett Bailey of WPPP News to the festivities. Hopefully, he'll have us on the air at five, six, and ten.” “Going to do our best,” the on air reporter shouted back. “People ask me where the idea for this crazy stunt came from, and I tell them that Rita, Vickie and Sarah came up with it themselves. They brought it to me, and I took it to Gayle, who took it to the Board of Directors, and here we are. Back to you, Gayle.” “Thank you, Manny. Folks, look around you. There are a lot of new faces here this afternoon, especially among the candy stripers. We have enlisted over forty members of the Zeta Alpha Pi sorority in the program, due to the efforts of Sarah's fiance, Major … er … Professor Ian Grady. He persuaded a judge to let these notorious diaper thieves do community service here rather than somewhere else, and they are already having an impact. In a mere three hours Cindy Carlson, my personal assistant, has turned the admissions process upside down, escorting new patients to their rooms and helping them get settled in. She always has a smile on her lips and a spring in her step, and her good cheer is infectious, especially in the children's ward. Cindy will be one of Santa's elves in this years Christmas pageant.” Ian wandered over to give Cindy a hug. He had cut his office hours short so that Vickie could pick him up early enough to attend the auction. He shook hands with Emily, but on impulse chose to hug Suzie and give her a peck on the cheek. “It's done,” Suzie whispered, referring to the fertility test. “I'll get the results after the auction.” “I'll come with you,” Ian murmured. He didn't want Suzie to go through this ordeal without his support. He valued her friendship, and wanted to strengthen their relationship. “Sarah Haikonnen will be the first on the block,” Gayle announced. On cue, Sarah climbed up on the trestle table. Kicking off her shoes, she proceeded to disrobe, and didn't stop until she was standing there in a two piece bathing suit. Applause erupted all around the room as Sarah walked from one end of the long table to the other. She wanted prospective bidders to get a good look at what they were buying. “Just a reminder,” Gayle called out through the whistles and applause. “Bidding is restricted to the female cohort, and the winner has to be in the Psych ward at eleven o'clock tomorrow night to do the honors. She also must be back at seven on Thursday morning to release Sarah from her crib, and get her cleaned up. Remember ladies, we have volunteers manning the phone lines so that third shift can join in the fun. So, can I get a bid of one hundred dollars?” Cindy raised her hand and began excitedly waving it. Emmett Bailey's cameraman, who had zoomed in on Sarah, turned about to zero in on Cindy. He also caught Emily, Suzie and Ian in the frame, and Emmett knew that he had the lead for the local segment on all three of the night's broadcasts. “Thank you, Cindy; do I hear one hundred and fifty?” Hands shot up all over the room, and Gayle chose one at the back, where a resident Nurse Practitioner had climbed up on a table to make sure that she could be seen. “And do I hear two hundred and fifty?” Hands once again shot up all around the room, Cindy's among them. Gayle pointed at a physician who had delivered that many babies or more over the years. “Cindy, restrain yourself,” Emily admonished. “There's only so much that my checkbook can take.” “Mom, it's for a good cause … and this is our Dad's fiancee. I'm pretty sure he wants to keep this in the family.” Cindy looked at Ian for confirmation, but he just smiled. “Em, I'll chip in,” Suzie added. “Cindy's right. This is a very good cause, and Ian won't want just anybody getting this close to either Sarah or Rita. We have to step up.” “All right,” Emily surrendered. “But five hundred each is my limit.” “Do I hear four hundred?” “A thousand dollars,” Vickie called out, a figure that stunned the room. An eerie silence settled over the gathering. Gayle looked at the phone bank, but the volunteers were all shaking their heads. “Do I hear twelve hundred and fifty,” Gayle asked. This time, she didn't have to shout. Sarah was glaring at Vickie. This was not where she wanted to spend the household's money. “Eleven hundred,” Cindy shouted as she frantically waved her hand. “Cindy, I'll accept a cut bid,” Gayle told her, “but if it's topped you cannot bid again. Understand?” “Understood. Eleven hundred,” Cindy repeated. Her mother was staring at the ceiling, fighting hard to hold her tongue. “I have eleven hundred,” Gayle called out. “Do I hear twelve fifty?” She was staring at Vickie, but Vic had seen the look in Sarah's eyes. Prudence being the better part of valor, she was now sitting on her hands. “Do I hear twelve fifty,” Gayle repeated. She looked around the room, but no one had raised their hand. “I have eleven hundred. Going once … going twice … the privilege of diapering Sarah Haikonnen tomorrow night goes to Cindy Carlson! Congratulations, Cindy!” . . . . “Marilyn!” Professor John Mortenson's face lit up with an enormous smile. “Surprised to see me?” “Surprised … delighted. My office hours are so dull. You have just made my day. Now what, if anything, can I do for you?” “Are you really willing to change my diaper?” “Absolutely. I do not want to see you come down with diaper rash.” “Well, I've been wearing this diaper for the last six hours, and I'm really wet. I need a change, and it just so happens that I have a spare in my backpack.” “You want me to change you right here, on my office floor?” “Is there anywhere else we could go?” “Not offhand. But Marilyn, think; you would have to take off most of your clothes. I would lose my job if anyone found out, even if you told everyone that you asked me to do this. It wouldn't matter.” Marilyn turned around, and shut the office door. “No one is going to find out. Neither of us is going to say anything, and if anyone asks back at the house, I'll tell them that I used a stall in one of the restrooms. Please, John; I have to know that you're good with changing me.” With a deep sigh, John walked around his desk and pulled a gym bag down from the top of his coat rack. Opening it, he spread a bath towel out on the floor. “Best I can do,” he said in an apologetic tone. “Perfect,” Marilyn replied. She put her spare diaper on the desk, along with a small bottle of baby powder and a packet of wet wipes. Then she removed her winter coat, kicked off her shoes, and started to undress. Professor Mortenson couldn't turn away. He found himself hoping that Marilyn had really dropped by to scalp him. He desperately wanted the diaper change to be her excuse to take her clothes off. He wanted her to flaunt her naked body, throw her arms around his neck, and pull him down for a passionate kiss. He wanted to hold her in his arms, kiss her and caress her. He wanted to make love to her. Marilyn folded her pants neatly over the lone chair facing the desk, and then began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. John was standing on the opposite side of the desk, staring at her, his eyes moving up and down her body. Marilyn blushed when she glanced down and saw his erection. It was like a tent pole inside his trousers! She placed her blouse on the back of the chair, and stood facing him wearing only her diaper, vinyl pants and bra. She was ready, but not at all sure what she wanted to happen next. She was telling the truth; she was wet and she needed a diaper change. But was that the real reason she had come to his office? She didn't know. John gulped, and slowly came around the desk. Silently, he took her in his arms and leaned down to kiss her full on the lips. Marilyn had never been kissed before … not like this. The odd peck on the cheek didn't count. She leaned back, but only to summon the courage to kiss him in return. She wanted John to wrap his arms around her, and never let go. Holding her, their lips only inches apart, he swallowed audibly, trying to recover his voice. “You need to lie down on the towel.” He was choking on the words as he lowered his arms. Marilyn stepped back, dropped to her knees, and then rolled over onto her back and stretched out. John was standing over her, staring down, devouring her with his eyes. His erection was huge, and in that moment she realized that she wanted him to make love to her. Right here, right now. John knelt beside her. “Raise your hips,” he said, and when she obeyed he gently pulled her vinyl pants down. He ran a wet wipe over the inside, then set them aside. Lying there, now at a loss for words, Marilyn could only stare up at him. Whatever happened next was beyond her control, her thoughts leading her into the realm of desire. She was exploring feelings that she had never experienced before. John rested his hand on her diapered front. “This is very wet,” he murmured; “you should have changed hours ago.” “You weren't here hours ago.” Marilyn's voice was husky with desire John unpinned the diaper, and Marilyn once again raised up so that he could slide the diaper out from beneath her. He folded it awkwardly, then put it in a plastic bag that he saw sticking out of her backpack. Reaching for the wet wipes with one hand, he pushed on her knees with the other. He attacked Marilyn's rear, using wipe after wipe to get her clean. Then he used a corner of the towel to pat her dry. Sliding the fresh diaper under her, he liberally doused her bottom with baby powder, taking his time to rub it into the folds of her skin. When he was satisfied that he had reached every nook and cranny, he lowered her knees. Now wearing only her bra, Marilyn stretched out once more. She was looking up at him expectantly. John grabbed another wad of wet wipes, and got back to work. Marilyn's hymen was intact, but her clitoris was engorged, and when he touched it she gasped. In that moment he knew how much she desired him, and he wanted her just as badly. But was this the time and place? Was this how he wanted to usher her into womanhood? His own erection was screaming for attention, demanding that he go there, take possession of the body that had become the summit of his desires. Gazing down upon her loveliness, John took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. He wanted to take Marilyn to his bed, sweep her into his arms, and lavish her with kisses. He wanted to make love to her, not ravish her. And he wanted them to take their time, not be rushed. This was not the time, and it was not the place. He continued massaging her with the wet wipes, again using a corner of the towel to pat her dry when he was finished. He sprinkled her with powder, then kneaded it into her skin. Marilyn's breathing quickened, air coming to her in small gasps. She felt a surge of electricity wherever John's fingers touched. John raised the corners of the diaper to encase her loins, but before he pinned it tight he leaned down once again passionately to kiss her. “I want you,” he whispered, “but not like this. I want our first time to be in a bed strewn with rose petals, with droplets of champagne glistening on your lips. I want to make love to you with romance in the air; can you wait?” “I'll wait,” Marilyn whispered in return. She had fallen in love, and love had laid out a path for them to follow. . . . . “Next up on the auction block … Doctor Rita Stevenson.” Using a chair, Rita climbed atop the table. However, unlike Sarah she had not come prepared to perform a strip tease, so she simply stood close to Gayle and waited quietly for her to get things underway. “The same rules apply,” Gayle began. “Bidding is limited to the fairer sex, and the winner has to be on hand in the Psych ward Thursday night at eleven, and again on Friday morning at seven. Now, who will open the bidding at one hundred dollars?” A sea of hands were in the air, but Gayle decided to take a telephone bid to kick things off. She did not want third shift to feel neglected. “Since you are all so eager,” she continued, “do I hear two hundred dollars? Two hundred dollars, anyone?” Hands went up all over the cafeteria, but Gayle chose to recognize one of her favorite candy stripers. Janis Marsden was standing alongside Marcia Mason, her supervisor. Almost everyone in the hospital had seen Jannie on TV, watched her plant an overly aggressive reporter on his keister as she came to Ian Grady's defense-- the very same reporter who was now standing on the opposite side of the room filming the action. Gayle knew that Rita was informally counseling Jannie, who found her feelings for Marcia and Ian confusing because she had a good relationship with her birth parents. Candy stripers who acquired surrogate parents during their time in the ranks was an old story in this and every other hospital. “Thank you, Jannie. It's good to see our poorly paid candy stripers joining in the fun.” Laughter erupted all over the dining hall. Everyone knew that candy stripers were volunteers, who received no compensation at all. “Now, who wants to step up and answer the bell at three hundred? Can I get three hundred dollars?” This early in the auction, Gayle could still pick and choose whom she wanted to recognize, and she chose Dotty Thurston, who had been working the cash register in the cafeteria for longer than anyone could remember. The hospital couldn't function without Manny Cepeda's building services staff, nor could it function without the employees whose companies had contracted to operate the kitchen, the cafeteria and the gift shops. Since they were typically invisible even when they worked out in the open, Gayle was delighted to have an opportunity to acknowledge their contribution to the facility. “Thank you, Dotty. You've been pouring coffee down Rita's throat for years; if you win the auction, you'll get to see where it all ends up!” Dotty laughed, and so did everyone else. It made Gayle happy to see everyone in such a good mood. There were a lot of bad moments in her business, but today they were being left on the shelf. “Onward and upward,” Gayle sang out. “Can I get four hundred?” “And four hundred I have, all over the room.” Gayle pointed at a nurse who had long worked in the ophthalmic surgery suite. “Want to take us to five, Kay?” Kay vigorously waved her hand in the air. She was in at five. “I'm looking for six,” Gayle called out. “And we have a phone bid at six,” she added excitedly as she pointed at the bank of phones Manny had rigged against the far wall. Who we got?” “Julie Neymar? Rita, what gives? Julie is the third shift charge nurse in your department. What do you think, folks? Is this a stacked deck, or what?” There were murmurs to that effect all over the room, which encouraged Gayle to soldier on. “Enough, already,” she yelled out. “Do I hear seven fifty? Seven fifty anywhere?” “And I have seven fifty! Heidi Freymiller has just entered the fray! Thank you, Heidi! Okay, let's shoot for the moon. I will entertain a bid of one thousand dollars. Do I hear one thousand dollars. One thousand dollars. Anyone?” “All right, then. I have seven fifty. Going once … going twice … the privilege of diapering Rita Stevenson Thursday night goes to Heidi Freymiller! Congratulations, Heidi!” Rita carefully stepped down from the table, and made her way to where Sarah was standing alongside Ian and Cindy. Sarah was still clad only in her bathing suit, and she turned and smiled directly into the camera when Emmett Bailey and his trusty assistant barged in for the inevitable interview. “Professor Grady, I have seen Doctor Stevenson testifying in the courtroom, and Emily Carlson at social events all over the Cities. Could you introduce me to the rest of your fan club?” “Of course. This is Sarah Haikonnen, my fiancee.” Ian leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek, but he was careful not to ruin the camera angle. “And these are two scalp hunters deluxe, my therapist, Doctor Victoria Robinson, and my friend and the house mom at Pi Iota Sigma, Suzie Marshall.” “Could we get a group shot,” Emmett asked. Ian took the center, with Sarah and Rita to his right and Vickie and Suzie to his left. He was tempted to tell Bailey that he hoped to make babies with all four of them, but he held his tongue. Ian suspected that so outrageous a statement would never make the air. “And these are three of my many wonderful daughters,” Ian went on as Tippi and Janis came up to join Cindy. “All three of whom are wearing diapers and doing community service here in the hospital after pleading guilty to a serious crime. Our switchboard has been besieged with calls, Professor. People want to know why you stood up for these girls when you were one of their victims.” Ian turned very serious. “Emmett, one school of thought goes that, having lost my own daughter, I am trying to plug a gaping hole in my heart by adopting an entire sorority. There's probably some truth to that, but it's also the case that I did some pretty crazy stunts of my own out there in Southeast Asia. This one got out of hand, but I'm not about to sit on the sidelines and watch it ruin their lives. I'm here to help them get past this moment.” “Professor, I've seen the photos. Your wife and daughter … I won't pretend to have any sense of the pain that you must feel every minute of every day because I don't; I doubt if anyone can. But I will tell you that your story has touched many hearts; it brings the tragedy of war down to a very human level. I want to interview you, for the national news. We have run your story by New York, and national will give you any forum that you want. We want to make the search for your daughter go worldwide.” “Mr. Bailey, the search for my daughter … actually, for fourteen stolen children, is already worldwide. We search in the shadows for the simple reason that fourteen children cannot suddenly appear out of nowhere without raising questions. So we will not find them on a playground or in a schoolyard. They have been hidden away, so well that in eight years of searching we have come up empty. But we are making progress. Each time we follow a trail to the end and there's nothing there, we cross it off the list and move on. Slowly but surely, the list is getting shorter.” “And when you say 'we' are searching, I take it that you are referring to your friends in the CIA?” “In part. Mr. Bailey, please understand. If my daughter has inherited my gift for languages, with time and training she could be turned into an intelligence asset whose value can't even be measured. Langley does not want her to end up in the wrong hands, so finding her has become a national priority.” “I see. Well, my offer is open ended. Just say the word, and I'll put you on national TV. Your story will be picked up by networks abroad, giving you truly worldwide exposure.” “Thank you, Mister Bailey. I'll take your proposal to my colleagues on the Potomac, and get back to you when I can.” But there's a tape waiting for me upstairs that you don't need to know about-- not you and not Donnie. I'm going to play this one very close to the vest. “And on the lighter side … Miss Haikonnen, that was one heck of a sales pitch. You've raised eleven hundred dollars for a worthwhile charity, but you're paired with a sorority girl who knows a lot about diapers because she's wearing one. Did Cindy's bid take you by surprise?” “It did, and since I have one of the keys to her locking diaper cover, tomorrow night will probably end up with the two us changing each other, and again on Thursday morning.” “And Cindy, don't worry about getting back to the sorority,” Rita cut in. “You can bed down in the Psych ward. Sarah will be spending the night in Ian's crib, but we have a few other empty beds at the moment.” “Is there room for both of us in Dad's crib?” “Sure. What have you got in mind?” “We share it. Mom's got one of these cribs waiting for me at home, so here's my chance to check out what it's like to sleep behind bars. Can you believe it? I'm going to be in a crib over the whole of term break.” “Your fans will be sorely disappointed, Cindy. You're the shimmy queen, and tonight we're airing a segment at ten that will highlight your performance at Moby's. We had to do a little artful editing to get it by the censors, but make no mistake about it, you lit up the dance floor!” “Can I have copies of the tape, both the edited and the original? The production team at American Bandstand wants to see us in action, and Mister Belmondo says that he can get us a booking on the Vegas Strip. Our Godzilla diapers really rock!” “Wait a second,” Emily protested. “Your father and I agree that appearing on Bandstand would be a feather in your cap, but you are not going to play some seedy hotel in Vegas that's probably run by the mob. You will stay right here, young lady, and finish your education!” “Not to worry, Mom. “I've got to sell Caberet to Professor Osgood. I want to play Gilda Gray in the Spring, and Mister Belmondo says that talent scouts will be in the audience. He thinks that I can have the movies and the stage-- Hollywood and Vegas both!” “You want a Mafia overlord to manage your career? Cindy, what are you thinking?” “Emily, your daughter is an incredible talent. Remember, I can get us a gig in Vegas as a comedy team … Grady and Carlson. We'll be headliners.” “Ian, you're not helping.” Emily was exasperated with both of them. “I know, but teasing you is so much fun.” Everybody started laughing, and even Emily joined in. Ian had a point. If she was overprotective, it was because her daughter was a high spirited, outgoing, talented young woman whose enthusiasms often got the better of her. Cindy's current run-in with the law was a case in point. Cindy was creative, but she could also be self-destructive. Emily wanted to keep her on a leash, but she had yet to figure out how long to make it. . . . . Geri looked over at Mikey. They had a table to themselves in the library's reference room, both of them hitting the books hard now that final exams were looming on the horizon. No one could see the diaper that Mikey was wearing under his slacks, but Geri smiled when she thought about the diaper, the pink baby pants and the pink onesie lurking inside his winter garb. But she also admitted that the bright red ski sweater looked really good on her boyfriend. Maybe too good. “How's your diaper holding up,” she asked him in a voice just loud enough to be overheard by the girl sitting by herself at the next table. She had been giving Mikey the eye, and Geri wanted to put a stop to it. Bringing his diapered state to her attention seemed like the best way to go about it. “I'm good, Mommy,” he whispered. Geri had promised him a spanking if he used her name anymore, but he was keenly aware of the girl at the next table, who seemed to be eavesdropping on their conversation. He didn't want a spanking, not after watching how Laura had put Tommy in his place, but he also didn't want to embarrass himself in front of a really cute coed. He just hoped that Geri wouldn't make him speak up. “Louder, baby. Mommy can't hear you.” Geri was speaking a bit louder herself; she wanted the hot chick at the next table to go away. “I'm good, Mommy,” Mikey repeated. He could see the shocked expression on the cute coed's face; she had definitely heard every word. Now she was looking down at the book open in front of her, pretending to read, but he could see that she was laughing … laughing at him. Laughing at the big baby in the bright red sweater who probably needed his diaper changed. Mikey wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole, but it was his bladder that opened instead. He could feel pee dribbling into his diaper … not much, but he was definitely wetting himself. Mommy was right; he needed to wear diapers all the time now. He was just a big baby who needed his Mommy to look after him. And he was hungry. He wanted his bottle, and he wanted his pacifier. It was in his pocket, and he could feel it rubbing against his thigh. He needed it so badly, but once he put it in his mouth it would have to stay there until Mommy removed it. That was another one of her rules, and breaking it would also earn him a spanking. His hand drifted down, but he brought it back up to the table when the coed looked up and caught his eye. He could read her thoughts: does the big baby need his Mommy to change his widdle diapee? Have you made a poopy in your widdle baby diaper? Mikey lowered his eyes and tried to return to his studies, but it was no use. His concentration was broken. He wanted Mommy to take him back to his room and give him his bottle. And maybe she would let him nurse on her luscious tits, then play with him so that he would feel good. He liked it when Mommy made him feel good; he liked it a lot.

Marge is right. We're looking for an island off the Pacific coast. Let's see if you can narrow the search down for Ian's Mafia friends.

Beautifully written, with an obvious question left hanging: why is Melissa not wearing something to bed? Is there an episode in her past? How did she handle this when she was 13?

Thanks for this. You're right. Karen Walsh would have access.

Thanks for this. I would also like to see more stories about mature adults-- and more stories abut incontinent adults.

Have you ever questioned the accuracy of your childhood memories? Mine are in layers-- what I experienced and how I felt at the time, and a different set of memories once I reached adulthood, left home, and could see my parents and my childhood with fresh eyes. I ended up jettisoning the memories I carried with me from childhood because in adulthood I came to realize my father and mother were not the people I thought they were when I was a child.

THE MOMENT OF TRUTH: LINH “Up and at 'em,” Sarah cheerfully called out as she walked into the nursery. “Baby girl, you first. Are you poopy?” “No, Mommy, just wet,” Vickie judged. “Then get your butt into my shower and get to it. Come back to the nursery when you're done and then you can finish getting dressed. There's a diaper pail in the bathroom; use it, but bring your baby pants to me.” Trying to shake the cobwebs out of her brain, Vickie climbed out of the crib and shakily headed out the door. She hated Monday mornings with a passion. “Ian, I'm not even going to ask about your diaper; I'll just assume the worst. Hop up on the changing table and we'll get to it. Wet wipes first, and then it's your turn in the shower. Come back here after you've cleaned up.” “Breakfast?” “Pris will see to your bottles after I get you locked up and into a fresh diaper and onesie. You should have time for a biscuit or two before you finish getting dressed. She will drop you off at your office before heading for the station. She's returning to her regular duties this morning, which means that Tippi will take charge of you today. Don't give her any trouble, okay.” “I won't. The chastity thingy won't let me have an erection, and that was my biggest fear. But remember, I'll be running late today because I've got that meeting to attend at three.” “Vickie will collect you afterwards. Marilyn Marsden says that being cross appointed to another department is a big deal-- just another arrow in her quiver when she markets you. Have you made up your mind? Poli Sci or International Relations?” “IR. It's a better fit. I'll tell my Chair, and he'll phone the Dean. He'll work out the details. The meeting is pro forma.” “I'm so proud of you. Faculty Advisor to the Panhellenic Council, now a member of two departments. You've come a long way in a short time.” “I'd trade it all if doing so would guarantee a positive outcome from tonight's session. If Rita's right, this is probably my best shot at locating my daughter.” “Try and relax. We want you to drift into sleep because you're naturally tired. It won't work if you force it. Spend some time today replaying making love to Vickie, or daydreaming about your first night with Francie. If it will help, how about another visit to the Psych ward's therapeutic bath? It definitely relaxed you when Candy performed the honors.” “I like that idea. A light dinner, and then a hot tub. Hey, remind me to tell you some time about this great big outdoor hot tub complex that I visited in the middle of the Borneo jungle. Japanese officers used it for R&R during the war, and it's still in great shape.” “Hmm. That sounds like the sort of thing you should roll out at one of these fancy wing dings that Emily was talking about. Entertain Andrew Carlson's friends with tales from your travels and they will soon be writing checks for the scholarship fund.” “You think?” “I know. Ian, aside from everything else, you are the most fascinating man I have ever met. All the places you've been, and all the people you know. Who else can entertain us with stories about walking the streets of eastern Europe with a lady Soviet general one day, and breaking bread with a Mafia kingpin the next?” “And should I mention that the lady general has changed my diapers more than once?” “Of course! Don't try to hide your diapers from anyone. This is the sort of thing that bored corporate wives love to hear about at what otherwise tend to be very ho-hum affairs. Charm the wives, and their husbands will be adding more zeroes when they start writing the checks.” “Glad you'll be tagging along when we start doing dog and pony shows. It will seem more natural if you direct the conversation and I follow along.” “And just watch how all of those bored corporate wives react when I ask everyone to excuse us so that I can take you into a side room and change your diapers. Some of them will want to join us to watch and learn-- at least that will be their excuse. The bolder ones will probably volunteer to take my place. This reminds me … I need to get you a much bigger diaper bag. Vickie made do yesterday, but she said it wasn't easy. When we walk into the room at one of these corporate soirees, I want to have the biggest diaper bag in existence on my shoulder!” “So we're going to play the sympathy angle with the men, and inspire some erotic fantasies among the women?” “You see? In addition to everything else, you're a fast learner.” Sarah smiled as she leaned down to kiss her fiance. Ian had charmed her mother, who was now one of his biggest fans. In comparison, charming bored corporate wives was going to be a piece of cake. . . . . “The corridor seems deserted,” Tippi commented as she lightly knocked on Ian's open door. “Not a Sister in sight.” “Come in, Tip, come in. It feels like I've been abandoned. There was no one waiting for office hours to start, and you're the only person to show up so far.” “On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I have classes at nine, eleven and one, so Sarah wants me to feed and change you a little after ten, again sometime after I get out of class at twelve, then a little after two. Did she pack the bottle warmer for me?” “She did,” Ian confirmed. He took it out of the diaper bag and handed it over. “What about your Tuesday, Thursday schedule?” “Eight forty-five 'til ten, and ten thirty to eleven forty-five. So I'll see you a little after ten, and a little before noon. I'm at the hospital both days from noon 'til three, but Sarah will cut me some slack. Your care is my top priority. So, let me warm up your bottles-- two now, and one each at noon and two. On Tuesday and Thursday it will be two now and two just before noon.” “Very well thought out. Do you know what you're going to do in Sarah's ward?” “I'm going to serve as her personal assistant. She wants me to experience the whole operation at first hand, then she's going to teach me how to manage the department. So I'm going to get a business degree, then make a career in hospital management.” “And working with me will give you hands-on experience with a real patient. Well done, Sarah!” “Let me plug this in and warm up the first bottle. Do you want to lower your pants? It will take a couple of minutes, so now's a good time to check your diaper.” “Sure. Uhh … do you want to close the door?” Tippi giggled. That had slipped her mind. She still entertained fantasies about her new Dad, and bottle feeding him and changing his dirty diapers were high on the list. Locked into her own diaper, that was pretty much all she could do other than offer him her friendship. They seemed to get along very well. Ian got the changing pad out of a filing cabinet and spread it out on the floor. He left wet wipes, powder and Desitin within easy reach. There was a diaper pail underneath the coat rack, which was not only empty but newly washed. He had taken it with him on Friday, and had carried it back to the office when Priscilla dropped him off earlier in the morning. Because his new diapers were thinner than the monstrous hospital diapers, he was going to try and last out until Friday afternoon, but he was worried about mold even more than the smell. Diaper pail deodorizers only worked, after all, when the lid was tightly shut. “Keep a close watch on the diaper pail,” Ian urged. “Let me know when it becomes too offensive and I'll cart it home.” Tippi smiled at that. She couldn't get the image of her Professor hauling an obvious diaper pail across campus out of her head. Ian unsnapped his onesie and pulled it up so that Tippi could take a peek inside his pink baby pants. Sarah liked the look-- a pink onesie deserved a pink diaper pant. Tippi started in the back, putting her fingers inside the diaper and feeling around. Ian was obviously wet and in need of a change, but she couldn't tell whether he was dirty. Then she moved to the front. “You're very wet,” she exclaimed. “I'll change you as soon as I'm done feeding you.” Ian grinned. Tippi was taking over for Priscilla, but the routine was still the same. Dropping to the floor, he pulled his onesie down and then stretched out. Tippi knelt behind him and raised his head to rest against her thighs before inserting the nipple into his mouth. Now accustomed to the sweet taste of the breast milk, Ian began to suck hard on the nipple. The second bottle, warmed while he was downing the first, quickly followed. When he was finished, Tippi raised him up and patted him on the back, earning a small burp for her efforts. “Now let's change you,” she murmured as she lifted his onesie out of the way to gain access to his baby pants. Ian lifted his hips to make it easy for her, and in a matter of seconds she was unpinning his diaper. “Just as I thought,” she went on, “mushy poop, though not all that much of it. Let's get you cleaned up and into a nice, clean, dry diaper. Though it won't stay that way for long,” she softly laughed. Tippi attacked his butt with wet wipes before moving to his groin. She lifted his chastity cage, fingered it for a moment, and then got back to work. She liked the cage, although she freely admitted to herself that she would like it a lot more if she had the only key. The cleanup finished, Tippi slid a new diaper under Ian's rear, then came the baby powder that she worked into the various crevasses where poop or pee might hide. She was thorough, and Ian appreciated the care that she was lavishing upon him. Diaper tightly pinned and the still clean pink baby pants once again in place, Ian climbed to his feet. He left it to Tippi to do the snaps on his onesie. “You take excellent care of me,” he said as he started to redress. Tippi was busily bagging up the used wet wipes, the dirty diaper having already gone into the pail. When she finished she opened the door, but there were still no students waiting in the corridor. Deciding to stay, she sat down opposite Ian, who had taken his own seat on the other side of the desk. “I enjoy looking after you,” she confessed. “And just think, I'm going to be doing so for the next three and a half years. Do you think these chastity belts of ours will ever come off?” “I sincerely hope not.” “Really? Why?” “Because we might take leave of our senses the same way Priscilla and I did on Wednesday afternoon. And look where that led.” “To something beautiful … the two of you both discovering that you had fallen in love.” “And I could just as easily fall in love with you. It might happen anyway, but the cage won't let me take advantage of you.” “Even if I wanted you to? I have feelings for you, but they're kinda confused. You're a Professor and my sorority Dad, but you're also this wonderful man that I get to care for in a way that arouses my maternal instincts. I love what we're doing … absolutely love it. I would marry you in a heartbeat, and spend the rest of my life keeping you safe and making you happy. Would that be such a bad thing?” “No Tippi, it wouldn't. You have the right idea, and someday you're going to meet the right guy. I hope you'll invite me to your wedding.” . . . . “I didn't expect to find you here,” Vickie remarked as she walked into Suzie's office. “The meeting was on this side of the campus,” Ian shrugged, “so it was a shorter walk than going back to my office. And I thought it would be easier for you to park here.” “And you'd get to enjoy Suzie's company again,” Vickie smiled. “But you're right. Parking here is a breeze.” “Coffee, Vic?” Suzie gestured at the two cups sitting on her desk. “Black, as always,” Vickie confirmed. “Be right back.” Suzie got up and headed out to the kitchen. “So, how did it go?” “Piece of cake.” Ian shrugged again. “Now the real work begins … course development. I'll have to sit down with IR's chair and find out what they want. Somehow I suspect that lecturing on the role of the Mafia in prosecuting American foreign policy won't be high on the list.” “And did your new winter coat turn heads?” Ian smiled, remembering the moment. “That, and limping in leaning on a cane. The Dean couldn't get me seated fast enough!” “Bob took Sofia shopping before they flew home. She did not want her future son-in-law wandering around looking like a bum fresh off the park bench. I hope you take better care of this coat than you did your last one.” “Hey, I got it off the rack at Goodwill!. It was all that I could afford.” “This appointment will come with a sizable raise,” Suzie said as she returned with Vic's coffee. “I don't want to go there until Marilyn Marsden puts me up on the corporate auction block. Plus, she says that there are ways to take the University's money that aren't taxable. That's definitely worth looking into.” Conversations about money always made Ian uncomfortable. “And on the home front,” Vickie said as she changed topics, “did you give Suzie the updated fuck schedule?” Ian spat coffee back into his cup. “Uh, you mean that I get a night off after you devour me, and then it's her turn? Yeah, I told her. If the test is positive, she gets me next Monday night, and every eighth night after that.” “Mention the freebies?” Vickie was relentless, and Ian was such an easy tease. She was really enjoying herself. “Uh, not yet; you want to fill her in?” “Sure thing. Ian can bed anyone in the household who's willing anytime he feels like it so long as it doesn't upset the rotation. Sky's the limit, Suz.” “But always in his crib, right?” “Well, let's just say that what Sarah doesn't know won't hurt her. The problem is that little chastity cage locked around Ian's dick. Sarah isn't sharing the keys.” “There's always oral,” Suzie pointed out. “My thought as well. You really want to go there, Suz; believe me, Ian's tongue is magical.” “And I've never sucked a caged cock before. What do you say, Ian? Your office hours on Wednesday afternoon?” “A little before three.” Ian was pretty sure that Vic and Suz were having him on. “Tippi will be coming by to change me a little after two. Come later; I don't want to give her any ideas.” “Coming on to you, is she?” Ian was an easy target, and Suzie didn't see why Vic should have all the fun. “I apparently arouse her maternal instincts. That's all I want to arouse.” “We need to find her a frat boy who'll agree to wear diapers in return for regular sex. Tom and Geri have the right idea.” Vickie thought that Laura and Geri were really on to something. “Tippi's problem is that she's not well endowed up front,” Suzie noted. “She could be a hard sell, but I'll call around … see if we have any more bedwetters in the frat houses.” “How's your diaper holding up,” Vickie suddenly asked. “Hanging in there,” Ian answered. “Haven't had much in the way of solid food today.” “Would you like me to make you a sandwich,” Suzie offered. “We're taking him out for pizza,” Vickie hastily interrupted; “it's a joint down on Lake Street that Amos raves about, so it should be right up you alley, Ian.” “Hope so because I'm starving! I get my pizzas from a place down in Bloomington; too far to drive?” “At rush hour? For sure. The plan is to fill you up, then let you soak in the ward's spa for a while. We want you to be nice and relaxed when we put you down for the night in your crib in room eleven. When you nod off, I'll try and summon the Princess, and Carlie will take it from there.” “Can I have wine with my pizza?" “No, not under any circumstances. Think, Ian, think! We're taping this session; do you want to give the skeptics a chance to claim that what they're seeing is an alcohol induced hallucination?” “No, you're right. We need to do this one strictly by the book.” “And no more caffeine,” Vickie growled as she reached over to grab Ian's cup. “You would have to fight it off in order to fall asleep. You'll settle for ginger ale.” “Yes, aunt Vickie.” When it came to her professional instincts, Ian's faith in Vickie was absolute. . . . . Ian was back in room eleven, and bedded down in his crib. The staff had intensely debated whether to use restraints or not, and in the end had decided against it. He was wearing pink baby pants over his thick hospital diaper, and a soft pink baby dress with a high bodice that barely covered the top of his pants. Pink booties, which had come off of Marge's sewing machine, and a baby bonnet that matched the dress, completed his infantile garb. His hands were free, the thickness of the diaper and the chastity cage preventing him from playing with himself and thereby spoiling the feminine atmosphere that the staff had worked so hard to create. “We've done everything we can,” Rita quietly observed in the crowded control room. The whole of her senior staff was gathered around, along with staff from both the second and third shifts. Rita had timed it so that all three shifts could be present in force to witness either an incredible triumph or an ignominious failure. If they succeeded, this experiment would rewrite the textbooks. The lights had been turned down in room eleven, but there was still enough ambient illumination for the video recorders to capture everything that was about to occur. The sound equipment had been tested and retested. “He's full, but not uncomfortably so,” Sarah observed. “He's had thirty minutes in the hydrotherapy tub, and Candy treated him to a massage that almost put him to sleep on the table. He's clean and dry. Now it's up to Vickie.” Ian was stretched out on his back, his hands resting comfortably on his stomach. His eyes were closed, and he was drifting down into the first stage of sleep. Carlie was sitting out of his sight in the bathroom, and Vickie was seated alongside the crib, her lips mere inches away from Ian's head. Vickie waited for Ian's breathing to deepen and slow. She had worked with a sound engineer during the afternoon, experimenting to find how low she could whisper and still be picked up by the recording equipment. When he appeared to be at the boundary between alpha and the deeper rhythms of theta sleep, she began. “Con cò bé bé,” Vickie whispered, praying as she had the first time that she wasn't reducing the words to mere gibberish. “Mẹ có yêu không nào? Little stork … do you love your Mommy?” She kept the English so low that she barely vocalized it, but it was there. There was always the possibility that English was now the little girl's first language. “Con cò bé bé. Mẹ có yêu không nào?” She repeated the phrase over and over again, trying to bypass the ego and drill down into Ian's subconscious, where the Princess dwelt. Vickie was watching Ian's hands, which were beginning to fidget. His head was rolling from side to side. He was responding, and she kept at it. Time passed. “Mama,” she finally heard him croak, his eyes still closed. But the voice wasn't quite Ian's; it was more high pitched, the voice of a little girl. “Con cò bé bé. Mẹ có yêu không nào?” Again and again. “Mama,” the little girl repeated “Love mama.” Vickie gestured wildly for Carlie to join her. It was time to make the switch, and in a matter of moments it was done. Vickie retreated to the bathroom, wanting to leave Carlie a clear field. In the crib, eyes still closed and his forehead wrinkled in pain, Ian reached out seeking comfort. In that moment, Carlie's life changed forever. This was her little girl, and she was done playing games. She hammered the lever with her foot, and the side of the crib sank to the floor. Reaching in, she wrapped her arms around Ian and hugged her daughter close. “Mommy loves you, Princess; Mommy loves you ...” “Love Mama,” the Princess managed to say. “Love Mama,” she repeated. “Do they still call you Anna?” “Yes, Mama … Anna. But that is not my name.” “What is your name, Princess?” “I am the Songbird's daughter. The Songbird is my Dada. The bad men are afraid of him. They know he is coming to rescue us.” “A code name,” Rita murmured. “They've given Ian a code name. My God!” “How many children are there?” “Eleven. Once we were fourteen, but each time I tried to escape they killed one of my brothers or sisters.” “Do not try to escape, Princess. We will find you, and bring all of you home. Your Dada has a plan. Can you help us? Do you know where you are?” “On an island far out to sea. When I climb to the high place, I see water everywhere. There are tiny little dots a long way away, and they are moving. I think they are ships.” “Does a ship ever come to your island?” “Yes. It brings food and drink, and things that the bad men like. I saw a magazine once. There was a beautiful woman, but she had no clothes on. I wear clothes all the time. I thought this was very strange.” “Very strange,” Carlie agreed. “Princess, I have some questions for you. Take your time before you answer, and if you don't know the answer, simply say so. Okay?” “Okay.” For the first time, Ian smiled. The Songbird's Daughter liked playing games. “First question: do you know what a clock is?” “Of course. There is one in the classroom, and one where we eat.” “Do you know what time it is now?” “No, but it is dark. So, it must be after nine o'clock; that is when they turn the lights off and we go to sleep.” Sarah looked at her watch. Midnight had come and gone. “Were you sleeping? Did I wake you, Princess?” “Maybe. I think maybe. Dada and I were playing in the water. He was splashing me!” “A nice dream,” Carlie agreed. “She's to the west of us,” Marge declared. Once an outspoken skeptic, she had been won over. Somehow, Carlie was communicating with Ian's daughter, giving life to all the stories that had come out of Central America, the communion of parent and child. “It depends on how long she's been asleep.” Rita had also been eyeing the clock. “But she's definitely someplace in this hemisphere.” “Just a few more questions, Sweetheart, and then you can go back to sleep.” “Love you, Mama. Love you.” “And I love you my little stork, I love you.” Ian giggled, which shocked everyone in the control room. If there had been any doubt that his personality was sitting on a shelf somewhere in the void, it was now erased. “When you are standing at the high place and facing out to sea, do you ever see the sun go down?” “Once. I go to the high place every day, to be alone with my Dada. Once I stayed to watch the sun sink into the sea. It was so beautiful.” “A beautiful sunset,” Carlie smiled. She considered it nature's finest moment. “When you face the sea, you are looking west. When you turn your head to the left, that is south. Turn your head to the right, and that is north. What do you see?” “Water, Mama … I told you, water everywhere!” “And behind you is east. Is there no land anywhere?” “No, Mama, no land anywhere. Only the tiny ships far out to sea, and the boat that brings our food. It comes from what you call the east.” “That clenches it,” Marge yelled. “They're on an island off the Pacific coast. They're being supplied from a port on the mainland!” “Which Ian's Mafia friends can pinpoint,” Rita shouted. She was almost delirious with joy. “Sweetheart, do you know what an airplane is?” “Oh yes. I have been in one!” “Do airplanes fly over your island?” Linh thought about it for a moment. “I see airplanes far off and high in the sky. They never fly over the island.” Restricted air space, Carlie thought. Makes sense that the island would be in restricted air space. “One last set of questions. What is the color of your hair?” “Black. All of us have black hair and black eyes ... well, except me. My eyes are kind of gray.” “And what about the bad men? What color is their hair?” “All sorts of colors!” Ian giggled again. “Black and brown, a kind of yellow ... white. And some have no hair at all!” “Skin color?” “Sort of pink, although some of them are very dark … almost brown.” “Any black men?” “No. I have never seen a black man.” “Anyone who looks like a grown-up version of your brothers?” “No. No one.” “Do you know how many bad men are on the island?” “I have tried to count, but it is hard. The boat brings bad men to the island, and it takes them away.” “A barracks,” Rita mused. “Probably one on each end of the supply chain. We're definitely looking for an island that has multiple structures.” “My guess would be two shifts on each end, trading off at regular intervals. I'd look for a hotel or motel on the mainland that turns its clientele over this way, though it's possible they've taken over an apartment building. Either way, the ones on the mainland should be highly visible.” Sarah was deep in thought, trying to fit all the pieces into a coherent pattern. “So, we are all agreed that this is Ian's daughter?” Carlie had reached the end of her questions, and for Rita it was time to summarize. Looking around the room, she could see heads nodding. No one was prepared to offer an alternative explanation to what they had just witnessed. “I want everyone here to prepare two discrete reports. The first will be your evaluation of the efficacy of this therapy. Grade what you have just observed against our original goals, and suggest other settings in which this technique might have therapeutic value. The second report will be your summary of this event. Be as specific as possible, but do not make copies of this report. It comes to me, and I expect Ian to treat what you write as top secret. I will keep these reports under lock and key, and in the end I expect them to land in a secure vault at Langley. Everybody clear on this?” Once again, heads nodded all around the room. “Next, I don't want any of you talking about this, not among yourselves, not with your families or friends … talk to no one. Until these children are home, having anyone outside of this room find out about this could have devastating consequences. These are ruthless people; they will kill all of the children rather than risk discovery.” No one disagreed. The risk was evident to everyone. Carlie gave her daughter a final hug, and then eased her head down on the pillow. “Mommy loves you,” she whispered “and she will always be here for you.” “I love you, Mama.” Linh reached up to caress Carlie's cheek as she closed her eyes and prepared to sleep. When Carlie locked the crib, Vickie came out of the bathroom. They stood side by side, both of them watching the figure in the crib, who was once again falling asleep. Then Vickie pointed at the door. It was time for them to leave. “Will they be okay?” Carlie was thinking of both Ian and Linh. “They'll be fine,” Vickie hastened to reassure her. “We'll leave the Princess in control of his body for now; her sleep will be more restful than his. In the morning, I'll be here when she starts to move around. I'll kiss Ian hard … a deep French kiss. The shock will bring him to the surface.” “Done this before, have you,” Carlie grinned as they walked down the corridor to exit the secure wing. “Yep, and it works like a charm.” “The last thing,” Rita said. “I don't want anyone here to say anything to Ian when he wakes up in the morning. Not a word about this. When he comes back tomorrow afternoon, I want him to watch the tape and process what he sees without any preconceptions. I'll offer him your synopses, which he may or may not choose to read. I will ask him no questions, but will try to answer any that he might have. He will reach his own conclusions and draw up his own plans, and I think it best that none of us be aware of what he has in mind. We should never lose sight of the fact that Ian has been trained to kill, and is very good at it. He has spent his entire adult life inside a universe that none of us have ever visited. I want to bring the children home, but I don't want to know what he has to do to make it happen.” Marge flicked a switch, and the video feed from room eleven shut down. They could still hear every sound in the room, and Julie Neymar, the third shift charge nurse, would monitor the feed all night long. For now, it was time for the tired members of the first and second shifts to make their way home. They had other patients, and in a matter of hours it would be time for the first shift to clock in and get back to work.

A good choice, but the Dean is an administrator. He doesn't teach classes, so his interaction with students is almost nonexistent. Suzie scalped him in the past, but she is now off limits to everyone except Ian. Got anyone in mind to take her place?

Fully agree. I would imagine that Melissa's anxiety will go through the roof as we inch closer to "the" moment. How will Jasper help her get through it? Potentially lots more to tackle before we get around to addressing her problem. Take your time and let the characters drive the plot.