Babypants

HOMECOMING I tried so many times and that's no lie, It seems to make you laugh each time I try. Didn't I blow your mind this time? Didn't I? Priscilla reached out to turn down the volume while simultaneously looking in the rear view mirror. She wanted to make sure that her Mom was still keeping up. Rita's townhome was out in the western suburbs, and the whole of Minneapolis separated it from the sorority house. “You okay, Babs?” Pris took another peek in the rear view mirror. Although Priscilla would never have called Babs Patterson a friend, she did know her well. For years, Babs had openly paraded her anger as if it was some kind of perverse badge of honor, but it was gone now. In its place, there was a haunted look on a face staring straight ahead, never flinching. “Babs?” “I need this, Pris.” Babs was speaking in a monotone, her voice as dead as the expression on her face. “Whatever happens, don't interfere.” Joyce reached out to clasp Babs' hand. The policewoman was her responsibility, but she was out of her depth and she knew it. The evening ahead held out nothing for Babs except humiliation and pain, and she seemed to welcome both. Joyce was having trouble breathing. There was an invisible presence in the car, an unseen monster that only Babs could exorcise. Her mind kept returning to the fence line in Forbidden Planet; the monsters were real, and every child knew it. It was the grownups who lived in a world of illusion. “What's up with Cindy's new hair style?” Priscilla had decided to change the subject, hoping to banish the monster back to its lair. “It was popular in the Roaring Twenties.” Tippi frowned as she turned the volume slightly higher. “Cindy and some of the other girls are going to dress up for the kegger in flapper dresses, and practice the shimmy and the Charleston. Disco seems to be on the way out, so the idea is to roll out a new dance routine at Moby's, and take the place by storm.” “No more waiting in line, freezing their well diapered butts off?” “That's the general idea,” Tippi conceded. “And then there's the Bandstand ...” . . . . Ten times or more, yes, I've walked out the door. Get this into your head, there'll be no more. Didn't I blow your mind this time? Didn't I? “I really like this song,” Amy murmured. “Don't know it.” Julia's eyes were glued to the road, and she was working hard to keep up with Pris. They were headed for an upscale part of the western suburbs that she did not know well. Doctors who cheated on their wives were a dime a dozen in this territory, but they did not bring their girlfriends home for a friendly chat with their soonto-be ex-wives. “The Delfonics,” Vickie commented. She and Suzie were in the back seat. “Voices like silk. Heard them a lot over the years in the airport hotel lounges. Really good for slow dancing.” “And for seduction,” Suzie added. In their scalp hunting days, Vic and Suzie had both favored groups like the Platters. You couldn't go wrong with Twilight Time. “I feel like I've driven halfway to South Dakota,” Julia complained. “and I'll have to do it again tomorrow morning. You should plan on tagging along, daughter of mine; we have to take your Dad shopping at the mall … visit a shop that you apparently know well.” Julia was being circumspect, but she could tell from the look on Vickie's face that she knew they were talking about the maternity shop. “And how's your diaper holding up?” She abruptly decided to drive the point home. “Okay for now … and Mom, thanks for switching rides. Priscilla wants to keep Babs close; she's really worried about her. And frankly, so am I.” “Do you know what it's all about?” Julia kept her voice neutral, but she had known Babs since she first joined the force, and she had barely recognized the young woman who had been sitting in the dining room. Something had sucked the life right out of her. “I think so … and no, I can't say anything. But I know what Ian's going to do, and unless I chicken out, I'm going to follow his lead. I'm just so tired of running away; I want it over.” Suzie reached out to grip Vickie's hand. “You won't be alone, Sis; whatever it takes, you won't be alone.” “Come the Spring, want to take Mom and Dad up on their offer, and learn how to ride a motorcycle?” Vickie was desperate to change the subject. “I'm thinking about it,” Suzie grinned, knowing exactly what Vic was doing. “After tonight, life on the Row may never be the same again. Just imagine. Police officers offering free lessons on their closed track out in Maple Grove, and all you have to do to qualify is get your house's collective GPA above a 3.0. What an incentive!” “Suzie's right,” Amy nodded; “at least, to judge from the way Bernice's wayward mob reacted to Sergeant Canon's offer. Maintain a B average, let the pros teach you how to ride responsibly, and you are a motorcycle away from joining the Easy Riders.” “And Sturgis here I come,” Suzie and Vic simultaneously tossed out, both of them remembering Cindy Carlson jumping to her feet and screaming “I'm in” before treating everyone present to the latest version of the Cindy Shuffle. “God, how I love my job,” Suzie declared as she gazed out into the darkness. They had come far enough west that the streetlights had given way to stop signs, the road twisting through a pine forest that sheltered some of the most expensive properties in the state. “It's an old house in the heart of the city … a bit run down, but there's so much life inside its walls.” “The exuberance of youth,” Julia quietly noted as she saw Priscilla signaling to make a turn to the left. The atmosphere inside the sorority's dining room had been electric, the girls becoming more and more visibly excited as the minutes ticked away, drawing them ever closer to that magical moment when it would be time to descend upon the Deltas in force. Cindy, Kim and Mel would lead the way in their flapper dresses, their hair coiffed in a style that had been waning just as Julia entered her teens. Nineteen at war's end, she had opted to mimic the regal pose of Ingrid Bergman as she undertook the search for a suitable husband. She had met Herb at a USO dance, a Corporal fresh home from the war, looking so dashing in his dress uniform. They had waited for his discharge, and had put off starting a family until Herb had graduated from the Academy. And Pris is now twenty-eight, and with any luck will be presenting us with a grandchild about the time Herb calls it quits. Two more left turns put them in a busy cul de sac, and following Pris into one of the driveways, Julia knew that they were home. . . . . I gave my heart and soul to you, girl. Didn't I do it, baby? Didn't I do it, baby? Gave you a love you never knew, girl, whoa. Didn't I do it, baby? Didn't I do it, baby? With the radio playing softly in the background, Ian was hard at work in the kitchen. Rita had assured him that his spanokopita would warm up quite nicely in the microwave without the crust drying out, but it was only when Sofia had arched her eyebrow that he had hastened to follow Rita's lead. Although skeptical of this new technology, he didn't want to cross his future mother-in-law, who was plainly eager to turn his upcoming maintenance spanking into the real deal. “So, what's the verdict?” Sarah was readying the bread plates, and like Ian, she was a skeptic. Rita's was the only microwave she had ever used, and the leftover pizza had come out with the texture of well worn shoe leather. She was not a fan of this increasingly popular kitchen toy. “I would prefer to use the oven warmer, but I can't turn the temperature down on the lamb. So, keep your fingers crossed.” Ian began carving the spanokopita in a crisscross pattern, trying to make the squares more or less equal. When he was finished, he delicately extracted one with his spatula, and slid it onto a plate. Not bothering with utensils, he picked it up and took a bite before offering it to Sarah. “Yum,” she whispered; “you are most definitely hired. This is sinfully good!” “Not bad,” Ian decreed after a second bite. “The crust is warm, but the center is a little too moist for my liking. Good flavor, though.” “Our guests aren't that picky,” Sarah laughed. “How's the tzatziki faring? Anybody catch on to the secret ingredient?” “Not yet,” Sarah said as she gleefully shook her head. “It pairs well with the kalamata olives, and as for the retsina? Ian, I swear, I expected this to be rotgut, but it's wonderful! It has more flavor than any white wine I've ever had, and yet it's so light. What a find!” “And we have a couple of cases,” he mused. “Although with this crowd ...” “I hear you,” Sarah agreed as Ian continued to fill plate after plate. “Harriet and Francine weren't feeling any pain when they got here, and it looks like Marge and Reiko may have stopped off at a bar on the way over. There are several places in Ridgedale Mall that are quite popular with the ladies on Saturday afternoons.” Ian had turned away to start piling plates on a serving tray when Sarah reached out to grip him by the shoulder. “Turn and face me,” she commanded. Puzzled, Ian did what she asked. Sarah's hand drifted down to attack his trousers, easing them down to his knees. “Time for a diaper check,” she murmured as she pulled his pink baby pants down and began probing inside his diaper. “So wet,” she went on, “but not enough to warrant changing you. We'll do that just before you take out the lamb.” Ian stood motionless as Sarah began fingering his cock. Without the cage, there was nothing to prevent him from getting hard, and in a matter of moments he was fully erect. “It looks like someone likes to have his Mommy play with his toy,” she whispered as she leaned forward to kiss him. “That's good, because Mommy loves her baby, and loves her toy.” “I love you, Mommy,” was all Ian could manage in return as Sarah pushed his cock down and pulled his baby pants back into place, followed by his slacks. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. Maybe the ouzo isn't such a good idea-- but he kept the thought to himself. “Now, let's serve our guests,” she finished. “You may share a glass of wine with me, and eat whatever you like, but above all I want you to circulate … make small talk. It will always be like this, Ian; now that Becky and Candy have arrived, there are ten of us, with more on the way. If everyone shows up, there will be twenty women here, and you the only man. Whether this is Paradise or Hell is strictly up to you … but it will always be this way.” “I understand, Mommy. And I welcome it.” And before the night is over, you'll understand why … And I need to talk to Rita, give her a head's up … it's possible that Babs will blow up the same way Don Phillips did … got to be prepared … With Sarah leading the way, Ian bypassed the dining room table and carried the tray into the living room. “More goodies,” Reiko called out as she jumped to her feet. She ran up to snatch a plate, with Francie and Harriet hot on her heels. Sarah offered each a fork, but they all declined. Reiko bit off a piece of the pastry, and began to chew. Then she rolled her eyes and moaned with pleasure. “Ian, you need your own TV program … 'The Samurai Chef'!” “And the wine is fantastic,” Francie agreed. “I've never had retsina before! To hell with overpriced, cocktail lounge Chardonnay! Never again!” Cheers rang out all around the room, and soon the tray was empty. Looking around, Ian spotted Sarah sitting on the floor. She had a glass in her hand, and a plate in her lap. She nodded for him to join her. Excusing himself, Ian scrambled back to the kitchen to grab another bottle of Kourtaki. He topped off a few glasses before sinking to the floor at Sarah's side. “Thought you were running on empty,” he said as he filled her glass almost to the brim. “Such a naughty baby,” Sarah mumbled as she began rubbing his crotch in full view of everyone in the room. “You go girl,” Harriet called out, earning a fresh round of cheers from the assembled throng. “Carlie, you're awfully quiet,” Rita noted. “When's the last time you had a girls' night out?” “It's been years,” she replied as she trolled through her memories. “Hong Kong, maybe? When I was in the military police? It was tough duty, and parties like this helped us get through it.” “Did you have a girlfriend out there?” Ian was genuinely curious. “Oh,” he added, “I should mention that Carlie is a Lesbian.” “Really?” Francie was suddenly all ears. “Well,” Carlie smiled, “there was this girl named Mei Ling. “She used to get me off with her toes.” “What,” Reiko yelled. “No way! You must be kidding!” “Nope. She was as good with her toes as she was with her tongue … and her tongue was exquisite.” “Unbelievable.” “Why,” Francine protested. “Just because we haven't done it doesn't mean it can't be done.” She hiccuped before taking another sip of wine. “Want to give it a try,” Ian asked. “Go for it,” Marge urged. Not one for sitting on the floor, she had dragged a chair in from the dining room, and was happily downing olives in between dainty sips of her retsina. “Won't work,” Francie scowled; my toenails are way too long.” “Mine aren't,” Carlie quietly rejoined. She was openly staring at Francie, daring her. “What? Right here?” “Typical Saturday night fare at one of our frolics.” Sarah's fingers were still idly exploring Ian's crotch, and he wasn't going anywhere. “Pretty tame stuff compared to Thursday night at The Pig Sty,” Rita dryly observed. She took another sip of retsina, which she concluded could become quite habit forming. “Think of it as light entertainment for the masses,” Becky put in. “A diversion from the usual male stripper that Rita books.” “Wow!” Harriet was wide-eyed. “You guys really know how to party!” “Who's getting spanked tonight?” Candy was a little vague about the program, and the retsina wasn't helping. She paused to take a healthy bite from a piece of pita bread, hoping that the creamy taste of the tzatziki would offset the retsina's kick. Watching Candy munching away, Ian couldn't help but grin. A breast milk cookbook was beginning to look like a real winner-- and he owed Rita and Sofia a big hug for keeping the secret ingredient to themselves. Ian caught Sofia's eye; she was also chewing away, and she offered him an ironic salute with the half eaten piece of bread in her hand, the tzatziki glistening in the firelight. Damn, but I'm starting to like this woman. Who'da thunk it? “Ian is down for his weekly maintenance spanking,” Sofia explained for Candy's benefit. "I would like to do the honors, but Victoria has drawn the assignment. It's a tutorial of sorts-- for two of the sorority girls.” “Then Vickie will be going over my knee,” Sarah went on. “Another maintenance spanking before we get to the main event-- a policewoman who made a bet with Ian on Thursday night, and lost. She behaved very badly, hence this will be a punishment spanking … a harsh one.” “Who … who is going to spank her?” Harriet was searching for words, and failing badly. She had heard of parties like this, heard about the kinky games that the wealthy and bored liked to play, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would be attending one. She had been raised in a traditional family, and she had graduated from a deeply conservative Catholic high school. She attended Mass regularly, and she wanted to marry a nice Catholic boy who would give her children and keep his many mistresses out of the public eye. Ian Grady was her fantasy come to life. And now he's going to be spanked! In front of all these women? And what is a maintenance spanking, anyway? “Vickie is our resident expert, so if her hand holds up, she'll make this a memorable evening.” “Leave Vickie out of it.” Ian's tone was so commanding that half a dozen heads turned as one. Rita and her colleagues in the Psych ward had never seen this side of his personality. It was as if Clark Kent had stepped into the telephone booth and, but a moment later, Superman had emerged. “Let Joyce do it; Babs trusts her.” Ian's tone again made it clear that this was an order, not a request. Watching him, Sofia nodded. Her future son-in-law was not one man but two, and instinct and experience alike told her that this was the genuine article. The submissive persona that he hid behind was like a suit of clothes that he could put on and take off at will. “Does this have something to do with what happened this morning?” Sarah pulled her hand away. “It does,” Ian confirmed, reaching out to pat Sarah's thigh in a gesture of reassurance. “Rita, I need to talk to you and Carlie in private. Vickie and Priscilla will be back soon, and we need to do this before they get here.” “Let's adjourn to the bedroom,” Rita suggested as she got up to lead the way. Carlie stared at Ian for a very long moment, seeking clues as to what this was all about, but he was stone faced. Shrugging, she followed Rita down the hall, leaving Ian to follow slowly in her wake. “I'm not sure how this is going to play out tonight,” he began as he shut the door behind them. “I'm not even sure of my facts, and in Babs' case it's all rooted in guesswork. But I want both of you to be prepared for things to go badly off the rails. Rita, this could be Don Phillips all over again.” “A patient in our Psych ward,” Rita elaborated, knowing that the name would mean nothing to Carlie. “Ian got inside his defenses, and he became violent. One of our orderlies had to take him down.” “And you think Babs might blow?” Carlie nodded to herself as she began to put the pieces together. “Yeah.” “Makes sense. Ian, I don't know what happened yesterday, but you shook Babs up really badly. When I tossed her underwear and locked her out of her apartment en route to the sorority? She didn't object; she just stood there, silent as a statue. There was no fight in her; it was like she was sleepwalking.” “She's hurting, Carlie. Damn it, she's hurting badly!” “You think I don't know it? She's been my partner for the last three years! Of course I know it … but what am I supposed to do? Tell her that she's a head case and needs to go see the Department shrink? It doesn't work that way, Ian. She has to seek help, or have a bad incident report serve as the trigger. It's all in the union contract.” “What are you going to do, Ian?” Rita kept her voice low, afraid that things in the room were beginning to spiral out of control “That wall I'm hiding behind, Rita? Well, guess what … there's a second wall behind the first, and I started building it when I was nine years old. And tonight, it's coming down. No more running away; I am going to take a fucking sledgehammer to that wall, and demolish it. And maybe, just maybe, Vickie and Babs will take sledgehammers to their walls as well. It's the only way any of us can get control of our lives … the only way.” “Does Vic know what you're going to do?” “Yes. She knows the whole of it. It's my breakthrough moment, Rita, and Vic's good with it.” “All right … all right. Here's what we're going to do … at least … Ian, I take it that we'll know when you're lighting the fuse?” “Oh, there won't be any doubt.” Ian's laugh was bitter. “No doubt whatsoever.” “Carlie, I want you seated in a chair, somewhere to Babs' right. I'll be sitting off to her left. If she explodes, we'll have to box her in. Then we take her down and keep her down until the hysterics pass and she begins to sob. That's when we let go. If this is what I think it is, Candy will take over. She's good, Carlie; believe me, she deals with this week in and week out, and she's good.” “Deals with what, Rita?” Carlie was pleading for enlightenment. “Abuse, Carlie … child abuse. That's her specialty.” . . . . I thought that heart of yours was true, girl. Didn't I think it, baby? Didn't I think it, baby? But this time I'm really leavin' you girl, whoa. I hope you know it, baby. I hope you know it, baby. “There's no alcohol in the house, and your wife told me that coffee's off limits until breakfast. So, Sergeant, it's juice, water, or a soft drink; you by any chance a Dr. Pepper man?” “I'll take a ginger ale if you've got one,” Herb decided. “Coming right up,” Bernice smiled. They were sitting in the kitchen, the radio playing in the background, and while she was busy with the soda Herb nudged the volume a bit higher. “Haven't heard this song in years,” he said, making conversation. “When Pris went off to college, Julia and I were at loose ends for the first time since she was born. We didn't know what else to do, so we went back to the beginning. Eating out, going dancing … I guess you could call it a second courtship. It was fun.” “Like renewing your marriage vows.” Bernice slowly poured the ginger ale into a tall glass, and slid it across the table. “And now you have a loving wife and two beautiful daughters who are going the extra mile to help you cope with an enlarged prostate. You're a lucky man, Sergeant.” “Please, call me Herb.” “And I'm Bernice. Now that we've got that out of the way, I suppose I should ask whether you'd actually be willing to help out with the Deltas. Things do tend to spin out of control whenever one of the houses hosts a kegger. Suzie wasn't exaggerating about the drunk and disorderlies.” “This is Walt Mischof's turf; how does the Chief like to handle it?” “The occasional drive-by early in the evening, but after eleven a cruiser comes by two or three times an hour. If the party looks like it's moving outside, the officer will stop and try and herd the animals back into the corral. What we're all trying to avoid is a public disturbance. Walt overlooks a lot, but that's where he draws the line.” “So, you and Suzie want me to stroll casually down the street, and drag the girls back to the house if they take it outside. But this is the dead of winter. Surely ...” “They'll be drunk, Herb; young and drunk. It's a dangerous combination.” “And this will go on until …?” “One … two at the latest. By then, everyone should have passed out.” “And as long as they're inside, just leave them where they lay. Okay … got it. Now, I guess we're down to the last item on the agenda, which is what I'm going to wear to bed.” “We both know why you're here, Herb, but it's your call. The guest bedroom has it's own facilities, but if you so choose, I can help you without getting embarrassed. I've changed so many diapers this week that I'm beginning to feel like Robby the Robot.” “One of my heroes,” Herb laughed as the memories came flooding back. “Pris was five, and resented being left with a babysitter. So, we took her with us when we went to the movies. This one scared her so badly that she came to bed with us that night … slept between us. She was convinced that the monster was hiding under the bed.” “You should be proud of your daughter. Oh, we tease her … call her the Batgirl, but the reality is that she has handled our shenanigans with real finesse. Walt hates losing her, although his respect for Ian is off the charts.” “Your adoptive son.” “My adopted son,” Bernice agreed. “Something else for us to work out-- where and when to conduct the adoptions.” “Julia wants us to get a handle on the guest list. I've got maybe seventy friends on the force to invite; I'll leave it to you to deal with this side of things. Any ideas about the hospital?” “I'll talk to Rita, but I'll be shocked if the number is less than two hundred. Vickie has a lot of friends and well wishers.” “So we need to think big … maybe something like a ballroom, or a hotel that handles large weddings. Speaking of which, we should try and get it done before the wedding.” “Works for me. Now, back to the matter at hand.” Bernice looked at him expectantly. “Right,” Herb sighed. “I'm dragging my feet, but there's no getting around this. I'm having problems at work, and my bladder is far more unpredictable in cold weather. We should do this before I start wandering the streets, but … uh … what are we going to do if I have an accident out there?” “Not to worry. Herb, I really love these girls, and I worry about them whenever they run off to do something stupid-- and that's a weekly event. I won't be going to bed until you tell me that they're okay, so if it comes to it, I'll change your diaper. We have plenty, so it's not a big deal.” “Then let's do it. I do not want to humiliate myself in public … let's do it.” . . . . “Reinforcements,” Reiko called out as Priscilla and Julia walked in together with their guests in tow. It was left for Vickie to perform the introductions, since she was the only person who knew everyone present. Ian slipped quietly back into the kitchen, but not before doing a quick head count. Eighteen women, I'm the only man, and I'm good with it. I should be freaking out, parading my insecurities like a runaway freight train, but I'm good with it. What a wake up call … “Pita bread's flying off the table, we're just about out of tzatziki, and Mom's playing bartender. At last count, we've already gone through seven bottles.” Sarah nuzzled Ian on the back of his neck, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you,” she whispered into his ear. “You make me so happy.” “Back at you,” he said as he reached down to caress her hands. “Can you get Tippi something to drink while I warm up the next batch of spanokopita? Anything soft will do.” “Consider it done. Is the lamb almost ready?” “Twenty more in the oven, and five on the rack. Time to get the rice underway, and we'll get the salads rolled out in ten.” “Yes, Sir! And I'd salute if my hands weren't otherwise engaged! But first? The nursery! The chef needs his diaper changed!” . . . . “Okay, we have arrived at the moment of truth,” Bernice calmly observed. “In the immortal words of Elvis Presley, 'It's Now or Never'.” Herb and Bernice had moved to the guest room, where she had set out one of the Lullaby diapers and a pair of vinyl pants atop the bed. Bottles of baby powder and lotion leaned against one of the pillows, which harbored four diaper pins with locking heads. Bernice had learned the hard way that baby pants did not fare well when a diaper pin popped open. “You need to take off everything except your socks and undershirt,” she went on; “do you want me to give you some privacy? Maybe hide in the bathroom, with the door closed?” “Uh, yeah … yeah, I think that would probably be a good idea,” Herb blushed. Waiting until the door clicked shut, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Feeling like an over the hill male stripper, he hesitantly took it off and draped it over a nearby chair. Only thing missing is the music. For sure, Julia would have the stereo cranked to the max … Herb kicked off his shoes, and left them where they lay. Fuck, man, Julia's the only woman who's ever seen you completely naked. Even when I was in for the appendectomy … Getting a firm grip, he lowered his pants and underpants in one continuous, jerky motion. But he had to sit on the side of the bed to work them over his ankles … sit right there, next to the diaper. It was staring at him, reproaching him for the loss of his manhood. “I guess I'm ready,” he called out. “Let's get this over with.” Bernice walked out of the bathroom, trying to be casual. “Your pubic hair is a moisture trap,” she pointed out, hoping that a clinical approach would take the edge off what had to be the most humiliating moment in Herb Canon's life. “Some of the girls came down with a diaper rash in less than forty-eight hours. You should think about getting rid of it. If you don't have a razor in your bag, I can get you one.” “I … I think I'll pass, but thank you for asking. Besides, I wouldn't want Julia to miss out on all the fun.” “Point well taken,” Bernice smiled, still trying to put him at ease. “What I'd like you to do is lay down on the diaper, then roll over on your stomach. Do you use a skin moisturizer?” “On my hands, several times a day. Started a few years ago, when my knuckles started bleeding in mid-January.” “You and me both. Cold weather, dry skin ...” “Yeah … when I retire, I'm hoping that we can sit out January and February in Florida or Arizona. Graduate to suntan lotion ...” “You going to oil the caboose,” Herb asked as he rolled over. “A little lotion first, then some powder … still the best defense against diaper rash.” Bernice got to work, repeatedly telling herself that this was no different than readying a pork roast for the oven. She was thorough, yet kept her distance from Herb's anal opening. There were just some things she was not willing to do. “Now for the other side,” she announced, stepping back while he flipped over onto the diaper. “No point in using the lotion,” she concluded, “not with all this pubic hair. It would just cake, so we'll make do with the powder. I'll sprinkle it on, but I want you to spread it around. If you miss a spot, I'll guide you to it.” “Thanks, Bernice.” Herb looked up into her eyes, his relief and gratitude evident. “It's very considerate of you.” Nodding in approval when Herb finished up, she positioned the diaper, then explained why she was using the four pin method. When she was finished, Bernice handed him the vinyl pants. Still lying down, he pulled them into place, but she placed a hand on his chest to prevent him from getting up. “Let me check to make sure there's no cloth peeking out. That's a leak waiting to happen.” As Bernice ran her fingers around the thigh bands, Herb couldn't help but chuckle. “Ticklish,” she asked. “No. I remember Julia telling me the exact same thing the first time I changed Pris. It's funny the tricks that one's memory can play.” “Want to try walking around a bit before you put your pants on … get the feel of it?” “No time like the present.” Herb stood up, and walked back and forth across the room. “Feels strange, but not near as bad as that damned maxi pad Julia had me try last night.” “It's funny,” Bernice laughed, “but several of the girls made similar comments. Some of them plan to continue using diapers to manage their periods even when this is all over and done with.” “Makes sense. But you know what's weird? I'm actually glad that Julia got me to try the pad last night. It's really opened my eyes to what you ladies have to deal with. If I'd done this thirty years ago, I would have been a lot more supportive.” “What did you do? “Hid out in the garage.” Bernice laughed so hard that she had to dry her eyes. “Okay,” she finally managed to say, “pants and shoes next, then your shirt. Walk around the house, and use the stairs. Let your body and your new underwear get acquainted with one another.” Two more years, Herb kept telling himself as he followed Bernice's instructions. Two more years …

One off, or the start of an interesting tale?

A good read. How do the guards maintain their anonymity outside the prison? The gangs would have spies in place in surrounding communities to identify them, and then suborn their loyalty. Human guards are the weak link in this system, as they are in every prison.

Thanks for your well wishes. Therapy is physical on the one side, and occupational on the other. The most challenging occupational assignment is typing. Locate the word "point" on the keyboard, and then type the phrase "take point." It's hard, but I keep at it day after day. I am gradually getting the next chapter of this story (the kegger scene) ready while also writing ahead in the Homage story. Hopefully, sometime in July the next scene in this story will be shipshape.

Correct. Here's an example. A Chinese company manufactures a shirt for $10, which an American retail chain sells for $90. A 50% tariff increases the manufacturer's cost to $15. The manufacturer can offset the tariff or eat it, the American retailer can raise prices by $5 or eat it, or use the tariff as an excuse to do some serious price gouging. Now take a look at what retailers here are doing price wise with their Chinese manufactured adult diaper product line. Are we looking at a modest mark up for a case of diapers, or a big run up in their profit margin to take advantage of the typical consumer failure to understand how tariffs actually work?

Definitely reads like Hodgson or Lovecraft. Glad to see a new chapter.

Thanks for taking part. And thanks for your well wishes. I am especially grateful to Mushy Bottom for keeping me up to date while I was in the hospital and cut off from the site.

Quickie historical quiz: As Priscilla lays the groundwork for an all girl's motorcycle club on Fraternity Row, there are two existing clubs that would welcome a new chapter in Minnesota. One was founded in 1940, and the other in 1979, our story year. Which of the following are the two clubs in question: A. Femmes Fatales B. Leather and Lace C. Motor Maids D. Stilettos on Steel E. The Litas F. Women in the Wind G. Women on Wheels

ANNOUNCEMENT: an eighteenth tranche, consisting of scenes 50-52, is now up and running on the STORIES page of the site. Once again, comments have been removed to enable readers to enjoy the story without interruption. The balance of season 2 will follow.

I have donated to this site many times, but have always wondered: does it have a regular income stream? Specifically, advertising revenue?

Thanks for your show of concern. Therapy is going well, but typing is very difficult. This scene was written some time ago, and it did not require editing, so getting it out was easy. Gets harder from here on out. Glad you both enjoyed it. Coming to grips with managing this complicated household has compelled Sarah to put the brakes on her fantasies. Responsibility has brought out the best in her. She will be just what Tippi needs in a mentor.

ANNOUNCEMENT: a seventeenth tranche, consisting of scenes 48-49, is now up and running on the STORIES page of the site. Once again, comments have been removed to enable readers to enjoy the story without interruption. The balance of season 2 will follow.

THE LONG JOURNEY HOME “No,” Vickie wailed. “Not this! Oh, God, no! Not you … not Babs. Nooo!!!” She was drowning, her fists blindly punching Ian in the chest. It was a struggle just to draw her next breath. All of her nightmares came surging to the surface. Ian held her tight, his head resting on her shoulder. He was naked now, his last secret revealed. “My father,” she sobbed; “he touched me … he touched me ...” Ian tightened his grip. Suddenly, it all made sense. Vic never spoke of her parents, and she was clinging to Pris like a woman battered by the storm and going down for the third time. And Babs ... One phone call, that's all it takes to track the bastards down. And then I'm going to fucking kill them …make them pay … “We're the survivors,” he whispered as he heard the door open behind him-- open with such violence that the door crashed into the wall. “You, me, Babs … we're the survivors.” And then Priscilla was there, wrenching Vickie from his grasp, throwing her arms around her sister. Another soul that had gone astray somewhere in the distant past. The way Pris was looking at him … Ian felt something shatter deep inside, at the very heart of what defined him as a human being. “It's okay, Sis,” Vickie stammered as she began to pull herself together. “Really, it's okay. Now, I need you to go, all right?” “But ...” “Priscilla, we need to give them some space.” Sarah's voice was gentle, but insistent. There was so much pain in Ian's eyes that she was close to tears for the man she loved. But he needed this moment, and she would give it to him. Sarah held out her hand, and waited for Pris to take it. Leading her from the room, she closed the door and pushed everyone away. . . . . “Sarah's doing this right, Vic. Taking you back to the beginning, creating a space for you that's warm and loving … and above all, safe. And now you have Pris and Julia ...” “And Herb,” she cut in. “I'm scared, Ian. At some point, I'm going to be in a room alone with him, and I don't know how I'm going to react.” “Get out in front of it. Julia is very observant; if you're tense, she'll sense it. So, sit down with the three of them and put it out there. Maybe over dinner, so it won't all seem quite so melodramatic.” “And what have I got to be worried about anyway,” Vickie grinned, trying to put Ian at ease. “I mean, like I'm wearing a diaper and it's locked on … a chastity belt by any other name. God bless Sarah for keeping me pure until we … well, you know ...” “I do indeed,” Ian agreed as he gently kissed her. “And Sarah's created a safe space for me as well. I'm not at my best around men.” “It must have been so hard for you in the military ...” “Basic was bad, but after that I was pretty much able to wall myself off. The hospitals were the worst. I was at their mercy, just like when I was a kid. And I did not respond well to being catheterized. No one ever pushed the point, but it must have been obvious that I was more comfortable with the nurses than I was with the doctors. Other than the surgical teams, over the last six months I didn't have much interaction with men. The nurses kept me safe.” “And now, here we are. Thank you, Ian. We all wondered why you seemed so at home in room eleven. This explains a lot.” “Don't tell her I said so, but there's gotta be an assembly line someplace churning out Marges. There must have been five of them at Tripler … always pushing me to work harder, never helping me up when I fell. They made the drill sergeants at Hood look like a bunch of wimps.” “Nurses are overworked and underpaid, Ian. So, not surprisingly the profession has little tolerance for self-pity. What a lot of patients need is a good, swift kick in the butt-- especially the males. You're all so whiny.” “Guilty as charged! To Hell with breast milk. I want a steak and baked potato, damn it … and waitress, bring me another beer!” Ian and Vickie fell into one another's arms, both of them laughing helplessly, the tension melting away. “About Babs. Ian, are you sure about this?” “Has she come right out and said it? No. But walking back from the Student Union? I took a chance, and told her what happened to me when I was little. And she broke down completely … started howling like a wounded animal. I had to hold her upright, and all but drag her the rest of the way to my office. When Pris showed up, she was shocked; later, driving down to Bloomington, she told me that she barely recognized Babs. That's how shaken up she was, Vic; Carlie didn't say anything when she arrived, but even though Babs had calmed down a lot at that point, you have to wonder. Bottom line? I'm very, very glad that Joyce has taken her in tow, and that Bernice is letting her stay at the sorority. I don't want her left alone.” “I don't like the sound of that.” Vickie pursed her lips as she mentally reviewed their options. “I wish I could say that such cases are rare, but they're not. A lot gets swept under the rug … teachers, ministers … even doctors frequently look the other way because their professional reputations are at stake. And my profession is left to pick up the pieces of all these shattered lives.” Vickie sadly shook her head. “Abuse is Candy's specialty, and she does two groups every week in addition to working one on one with patients inside the secure ward. Her sessions always run long because you can't call time on a patient who's opening up and finally venting emotions that often have been bottled up for decades.” “Tough way to make a living.” Ian liked Candy, and he respected her. The more he learned about the Psych ward, the more obvious it became that Rita's drunken parties were a safety valve for a beleaguered staff earning its living inside a pressure cooker. “She can work with you, Ian … you and Babs both. One on one, two on one, in a group, but there are two requirements. You have to want help, and you have to be willing to do the work. No one who goes through this is quite the same at journey's end. Happily, most people finally come to terms with what happened, and walk out the door firmly in control of their own lives. It's a heady experience, especially for those facing up to child abuse.” Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Ian massaged his temple. All he could do was take the lead, and hope that Babs would follow. Babs and Vickie both. . . . . The door opened and Sarah exhaled, not even realizing that she had been holding her breath. Vickie was pale but composed. Ian had hit her hard, but she had taken the punch and bounced back. Sofia studied Ian, taking in the set of his shoulders and the resolute expression on his face. The warrior had stepped out of the shadows. The warrior and the baby … Ian and Anna … what complicated terrain my daughter will have to negotiate. How I envy her … Pris took Vickie by the hands and simply stared at her. She needed reassurance. “The four of us need to sit down over a family dinner,” Vickie managed. “There's something I need to get out in the open because I'm done running away. Closing the final chapter on Victoria Robinson will set me free to become Victoria Canon.” “You're in luck, then.” Tears were welling up in Priscilla's eyes. “Because at this time of the year Mom goes crazy in the kitchen. We all put on weight ...” Vickie's only response was to hug her close. “Rita, do you know if everyone is planning on coming tonight?” “As far as I know, Ian. Do you want me to make some calls … just to be sure?” “Everyone will be here,” Vickie interrupted before Ian could reply. “The whole team; she'll be in good hands.” . . . . “Counting your gray hairs?” Julia put down the laundry basket and smiled at her husband from the doorway. “I'm thinking about growing a beard when I retire,” Herb answered. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, massaging his chin, and trying to imagine what it would look like. “I'd like that,” Julia grinned; “give me something to grab onto when you're trying to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night.” “It might come in gray. Mack says that the beard's the first thing to go … first gray, then white.” “You would look so distinguished.” Julia glanced down at the gym bag on the counter. “Herb,” she warned, “if you're thinking about smuggling a six pack into the sorority, don't. We're going to be seeing a lot of Bernice and the girls, so her house, her rules.” “I was just … uh … you know … packing some spare clothes. You know … just in case.” “'Just in case' what?” “Uh, just in case I have an accident, or something.” “Have you packed some more menstrual pads?” Herb mutely shook his head. “Julia, are you sure that you want Bernice to diaper me? I know that I'll make a mess of it if I try to do it myself, but what if I … I ...” “Respond?” Julia stepped into the room and gave her husband a peck on the cheek. “I will be disappointed if you don't … well, at least a little bit.” “But I don't want to embarrass her ...” “She will be flattered, Herb. You're the one who will be embarrassed, and then I will get one of those phone calls telling me how lucky I am to have such a sweet and loving husband.” “So, I can't talk my way out of this, can I?” “Nope. You're stuck. Passing the night with another woman for the first time in our marriage. Oh, the horror ...” “What's this about spending a lot of time with the girls,” Herb asked as he fingered his shaving kit. “Oh, Pris has struck a deal with them. If the house gets its GPA up, she's going to organize a cycle club in the Spring. A few of the girls have bikes of their own, and the three of us are going to give lessons to anyone else who wants to learn.” “Neat. And it reminds me to ask: does Vickie know how to ride?” “Good question. I'll find out tonight. You thinking about Sturgis?” “Yeah. We've always done it as a family.” “And that isn't going to change. Somehow, I don't think Victoria will be a hard sell. And then there's the sorority girls ...” “What?” Herb's jaw fell open. “Julia, you're not thinking ...” “I am,” Julia gave him another peck on the cheek. “Our very own motorcycle gang … dozens of heavily diapered biker girls cruising the highways and byways … no one struggling to hold it in until we get to the next gas station or rest area ...” “And the extra padding will absorb some of the vibration,” Herb grinned; “get the hitch out of my giddy-up.” “That's the spirit!” Herb wrapped his arms around Julia, and patted her shapely rear end. “We've got the house to ourselves,” he leered. “And I just made the bed,” she observed. “The sheets will be nice and warm ...” . . . . “Door's open,” Rita shouted. She was standing in the living room, trying to figure out how to seat twenty people for dinner. Even with most of their guests sitting on the floor, she figured that it was a hopeless cause. “I come bearing gifts,” Carlie yelled back as she held her coffee pot up for Rita's inspection. “I'm guessing that, come the morning, it's going to be all hands on deck!” “You guessed right,” Vickie called out from the kitchen. Ian was currently teaching her how to give his prized ironware the tender loving care that guaranteed years of faithful service. He was convinced that, left to her own devices, Vickie would instantly reduce the kitchen to rubble. “By the time the sun comes up, the percolators will be percolating, and black, scalding hot coffee will be going down many a throat!” “I'm definitely in the right house,” Carlie added as she climbed the stairs. “And I found a couple of suspicious characters skulking around in the shrubbery. Should I cuff 'em?” “We'll be doing that later tonight, when we bring out the whips and chains!” Vickie charged into the living room, eager to find out who had just arrived. Her eyes lit up when she saw Harriet and Francine doing battle with their boots in the entryway. “What's with the suitcases?” Vickie pointed at a pair of nondescript bags perched part way up the stairs. “You two moving in?” “Nope … well, not yet. These are the officer's; we're just helping out-- doing our civic duty.” Harriet finally managed to get her boots off, and unbidden tossed them into the entryway closet. She had attended enough dinner parties in the dead of winter to know the drill. “Rita, say hi to Harriet Belmondo and Francine Sullivan, who run the diaper service that caters to the needs of one and all on Fraternity Row!” “Our most profitable account,” Francine chuckled as she and Vickie hugged. “But what's this?” Francine patted Vickie's tush. “Are you also wearing one of our diapers?” “Sorry, I started out with yours, but I've moved on. Sarah bought Ian and I our very own, private stash from a maternity shop in the Galleria. We even have pink baby pants!” “Which they are both wearing right now,” Sophia said as she and Sarah belatedly joined the group. They had both been hard at work in the bathrooms. There was no such thing as having too much toilet paper on hand when twenty females got down to partying hard. “Mary sells a good product,” Harriet grudgingly admitted, “but it won't stand up to the wear and tear of an industrial washer. Strictly boutique.” “But very comfortable,” Ian noted as he wandered out from the kitchen to finish the introductions. “Ian, you look absolutely adorable.” Harriet was grinning from ear to ear, and Ian blushed. He was wearing a pink polka dot apron and matching latex gloves, which reached halfway to his elbows. “I've been introducing Vickie to the kitchen,” he explained. “She's a walking disaster area.” “So, you're staying the night?” Rita was looking at Carlie, trying to be nonchalant, but failing miserably. “The weekend for sure; then, we'll see. Where's Pris?” “Some last minute shopping,” Sarah answered. “We need a lot more glasses, and more booze.” “What?” From where she was standing, Harriet could see the stacks of glasses holding court on the dining room table. “We could have brought some along,” she added in a lame attempt to hide her confusion. “We're doing Greek tonight.” When he finished up in the kitchen, Ian was planning to move on to the fireplace. “Rumor has it that getting loaded on ouzo and then throwing your glass into the fire is highly therapeutic. We'll find out.” “And if it turns out to be fun, we won't stop until we run out of ouzo. That should take a while.” “Where am I bedding down?” Carlie wanted to get the sleeping arrangements sorted out before she got drunk. Cat fights were not her cup of tea, and she definitely did not want to set Rita and Sarah at one another's throats. “The master bedroom is at the end of the hall, and mine is the last door on the right. You can use either closet, but Rita's bath is en suite, so it affords more privacy.” In private, Sarah and Rita had decided to leave matters in Carlie's hands. They both wanted to sleep with her, but for different reasons. Neither was champing at the bit. “When does the bar open,” Francine blurted out. “Lunch was a long time ago.” “Where did you go?” Rita wondered whether Harriet and Francine had shared a liquid lunch. “Do you know Mama's? On the West Bank? Uncle Vinnie does business with the owner, so we like to go there when we're downtown. The Veal Marsala is to die for …” “And they have a fantastic wine list.” Francine interrupted Harriet in mid-stream. “We shared a wonderful bottle of Valpolicella with the food, and finished up with Galliano. Yum!!” “An espresso coffee liqueur,” Ian explained when he saw that no one had any idea what Francine was talking about. “A bit too sweet for my taste, but then I'm a Sambuca man.” “You were,” Sarah corrected. “Because this is a special occasion, tonight you can share a few glasses with the rest of us. But tomorrow morning you go right back to drinking breast milk cocktails.” “Breast milk? For real?” Francine was sure that Ian and Sarah were pulling her leg. “For real,” Ian agreed. “Consider the source,” he added nonchalantly. “Ah! I see what you're getting at! Sort of like practicing for the real thing?” “Yep. This stuff makes Galliano taste like dry toast. Down the road, payback's gonna take the form of cracked nipples-- four sets of them.” “Need a little help here,” Priscilla called out from the garage. A few moments later, she stumbled into the dining room holding a bottle of ouzo in each hand. “I cleaned out half a dozen liquor stores, and I found enough glasses to keep us going into the wee, small hours. Oh, and someone needs to change my diaper; I tried to hold it, but I couldn't. I'm messy!” Turning around, Priscilla ground to a halt when she saw two strangers in the living room staring at her with mouths agape. “Priscilla, say hi to Harriet and Francine, our guests from Lullaby Diaper Service.” Fumbling in her pocket, Sarah located the key to her diaper cover. “Do you want me to change her,” Sofia volunteered. “I want to do it,” Vickie barked; “she's my sister!” “And your mother will be changing both of you once she gets here. Until then, I'll do the honors. Pris? The nursery.” “Oh, wow. Can I watch? I've never seen a big girl get her diaper changed!” Francine was so excited that she was hopping up and down. “Of course. You can even help me if you'd like.” Sarah's indulgent smile embraced both Harriet and Francine. The four of them adjourned to the nursery, where Harry and Francie got their first look at the oversized cribs that Ian and Vickie both called home. . . . . “Want to cut and run,” Julia asked as she pulled into the sorority's parking lot. “This is your last chance.” Herb shook his head. He had been happy to let Julia drive because the maxi pad that was stuck inside his underpants was driving him to distraction. “No. I'm spending so much time in the men's room that I'm thinking about moving my desk in there. I've got to get this under control, so I'll … uh … I'll give this a try.” “Thank you, Herb.” Julia reached over to pat him on the arm. “I know how hard this is on you, and how much courage it takes to face up to this kind of problem. But we'll get through it … together, just like we've always done.” “I love you, Julia. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't marvel at how lucky I am to have you in my life.” He leaned over to kiss her, his words heartfelt. “Remember,” she whispered, “Babs is inside. I don't know what's awaiting us, but let's try not to stare. Tonight is going to be hard enough on her as it is.” “And Pris doesn't know what this is about?” “No. All she said was that Ian shared something with her … something terrible. And it set her off; she apparently collapsed into his arms.” “We've all seen this coming; thank God it didn't happen in the line of duty.” Herb took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Okay. Time to enter the belly of the beast; Sergeant Herbert Alan Canon to the rescue!” Julia got out of the car and came round to help her husband, who was still coming to terms with the maxi pad between his legs. “We're supposed to use the back door, and let the noise guide us from there.” “A sorority,” Herb grinned as he opened the door and peered into the kitchen. “God help us all.” . . . . “Thanks for riding along, Sis. I can use the company, and if Suzie's having second thoughts about deserting her post tonight, I'm relying on you to get it done.” “I'm happy to get out of the house for a while,” Vickie answered. “Suzie knows what Delta keggers are like, so I'm counting on the fact that Dad's going to be camping out just four doors down the street to close the deal. Well, that and getting to inspect our diapers up close and personal. I can't see her passing on the opportunity to put us both down for the night in our crib. The nursery will really turn her on.” “She might have to battle Francie for the privilege,” Priscilla softly laughed. “That was one weird diaper change!” “Meaning? Come on, Sis … give!” “Well ...” Priscilla shook her head, thinking about it. “Mommy Sarah put me down on the changing table, and went about her business. You know, 'lift your widdle butt, baby girl, so Mommy can get your cover and those cute baby pants down'. I mean, she was laying it on pretty thick ...” “Reminding you that you're just my baby sister,” Vickie interrupted. “Yeah, it's been like that all day. Corner time, and now a humiliating diaper change. Clearly, she doesn't want me to have any doubts about who's in charge.” “Next up, your first spanking,” Vickie giggled. “You think?” “I know. Tonight, Mom and Mommy will be sitting down to decide your fate. I've got the naughty toddler bit down pat, so guess where that leaves you … baby sister!” “Sheesh. Anyway, as soon as Mommy opened my diaper … I mean, I stank something terrible and I guess I was pretty dirty, but Francie's eyes got as big as paper plates, and then she dove in. For one crazy moment, I thought she was going to lick me clean!” “Oh, yuck!” Vickie rolled the window down and dramatically stuck her head out into the cold, early evening air. “I'm no prude, but that's gross!” “I'll say! But Mommy didn't even blink. She asked Francie if she would like to clean me up-- and she didn't have to ask twice. Mommy did have to remind her, though, only to wipe from front to back. Francie went through a lot of wet wipes, then she had me roll over and she rubbed baby lotion all over my butt before powdering me ...” “Ah, that's why you smell so good!” “Yeah. Anyway, then she did my front, and to put it mildly, her fingers knew what they were doing. But Mommy put a stop to it when she saw that I was beginning to … uh ... respond.” “Wow!! Double wow!!! So, bottom line: if Carlie invites you into her bed … Carlie or Rita or even Mommy … will you?” “I think … I think I'd like to have Francie babysit me, and see where it goes. I mean, she's really cute, and I don't want to cause trouble at home. Starting something with Rita or Sarah, or even Carlie, and not being able to finish it ...” “I hear you; keep it casual, like Fort Lauderdale during Spring Break. Do you want me to take Francie aside and talk to her? You know, try and sound her out, make sure that she's interested?” “Thanks, Sis. What would I do without you?” “End up in a crib all by your lonesome,” Vickie laughed. “Just think, tonight we are going to sleep together, in our very own crib, in our new home!” “Bit of a tight squeeze, but we'll manage.” “Arm in arm?” “Arm in arm,” Pris agreed as she turned into the driveway and pulled into the lot behind the sorority house. “Hey, there's the war wagon!” Priscilla was pointing at her father's massive four door sedan. “They got here ahead of us.” “Oh, boy. If Suzie's here, I hope that she's behaving herself!” . . . . When she saw Julia and Herb standing in the rear entryway, Bernice jumped to her feet and screamed “POLICE!!!” Heads snapped back and chairs clattered all around the dining room as wholesale panic set in. ”YOU'RE ALL UNDER ARREST,” Herb roared. “NOBODY MOVE!!” “Except for you, Babs,” Julia called out. “You can move if you want to.” Julia was glad to see that her husband had found a way to lighten the moment, even if it was at the girls' expense. “Hey, wait a second,” Kimberly protested. “What gives? Jackknife and I helped get you into the house the other night, when you were drunk. You can't arrest us!” “Girls!” Bernice had to rap the table hard to get their attention. “If you have not yet had the honor, say hello to your aunt Priscilla's parents … Julia, and Sergeant Herb Canon. Sergeant Canon will be spending the night with us, and he will intervene if any of you wander too far off the reservation. Am I making myself clear?” “Sure, but in the meantime, I'm going to need another diaper change. You scared the piss out of me!” Kimberly was staring at the Canons with daggers in her eyes. She had literally wet herself she was so convinced that she was headed back to jail. “Would you like me to do the honors,” Julia asked with a straight face. “What! You … you're volunteering to change me?” Kimberly couldn't believe what she was hearing. “I need the practice.” Julia was still poker faced. “Herb and I now have two daughters in diapers, and I'll be changing them both when they're home. Which reminds me … I'll need somebody to change Priscilla while she's on duty, and this house seems like the logical place to go about it. Would anyone like to volunteer?” Hands shot up all over the room. “Has Priscilla agreed to this?” Ever practical, Bernice wanted to make sure that Julia wasn't sucking ZAP into some kind of kinky game akin to the drunken nonsense that went on at The Pig Sty. She already had one diapered policewoman on the premises, and one was enough. “She has,” Julia confirmed. She chose to leave it at that. “Excuse me, but I do believe that PISS would like to get in on the action. In fact, I'm reasonably sure that every sorority on the Row would like to have a go at changing the Batgirl's diapers.” “Too right,” Slasher called out. “The Kappas would be all over this in a heartbeat!” “Well, I do have one spare key to her diaper cover.” Julia was frowning, pretending to think about the offer as she examined the blonde seated to Bernice's left. “Julia, this is Suzie Marshall, and over here we have Amy Reynolds. Suzie is my counterpart at Pi Iota Sigma, and Amy is the head secretary in Ian's Department. Now, unless any of them need to be changed again, Tippi, Babs and Joyce should be ready to go. Priscilla should be here soon to pick up Suzie and Amy; I know that parking is a challenge at Rita's, so we're trying to help out.” “Sergeant Canon.” Suzie called out to get his attention. “Not too long ago, three of my girls were drunk and disorderly in public, which earned me yet another dressing down in the Dean's office. I would like to avoid a repeat performance, so please try and keep the kegger inside the Delta house. And if any of the girls do stumble outside, please bring them back here. Bernice has agreed to keep watch over any of our strays.” “And lots of luck, Dad; you're going to need it!” Neither Herb nor Julia had heard Vic and Priscilla sneak up behind them, and he was so startled that he almost jumped out of his skin. Worse yet, he felt pee beginning to dribble into his maxi pad. He struggled to stop the flow-- tried, and failed. He could only stand there, wait for it to end, and hope that the pad could absorb it all. “Pris! What the … you just took ten years off of my life!” “Sorry, Mom,” Priscilla grinned; “”I couldn't resist!” “And I'm having an equally hard time resisting putting you over my knee and paddling your behind … right here and now!” Julia was furious. “Told you,” Vickie giggled. “Meaning?” “Sis got into an argument with Sarah, and ended up doing corner time. Driving over here, I warned her that she was due for a spanking, and that you and Sarah would decide her fate. The only question remaining is who gets to do the honors.” “I'll have a go,” Joyce called out; “I'll introduce her to Mister Holeywood.” Applause erupted all around the room. Joyce had administered many a ritual spanking to the rear ends of their pledges, and she was renowned for her expertise. “A popular choice,” Julia concluded. “Any other candidates?” “Tippi, you need the practice.” Bernice knew that she had Sarah's permission to spank Ian if he gave his caregiver grief. “I would be willing,” she decided after a moment's reflection, “but I want to learn how to give a good hand spanking.” “It's a fine art, but I've mastered it-- and I would be delighted to teach you how to minister to my baby sister's poopy butt. But you might have competition: Francie Sullivan, from the diaper service!” “Poopy butt? Priscilla, what is this all about?” Julia was glaring at her daughter. “Mom, I … uh … I had an accident while I was out shopping. Mommy Sarah let Francie change me. She and Harriet were already at the house when I got home.” “Let me get this straight.” Arms crossed, Julia had fire in her eyes. “My twenty-eight year old daughter, who is supposed to be wearing diapers in a show of solidarity with her sister, actually messed herself in public? And it's been what … less than forty-eight hours since you started? My God, Herb, where did we go wrong?” “Not sure … somewhere,” he muttered. Herb wanted to bow out of this conversation, and find a place where he could quietly dispose of the pee soaked maxi pad. “Hey, I know!” Vickie snapped her fingers as the solution came to her. “Why don't we auction off the right to spank Priscilla's butt? That's how we do it at the hospital! In fact, next week Rita and Sarah will both be up for sale in our 'diaper your favorite nurse' auction. The proceeds go to one of our charitable causes-- buying presents for neighborhood children who might otherwise miss out on Christmas.” “Vic, that's an incredible idea,” Suzie said as she climbed to her feet. “We could raise money for the scholarship fund, and paddling the Batgirl's ass would soothe a lot of hurt feelings from one end of the Row to the other.” “Then let's do it,” Priscilla snapped. “How about a public spanking, at one of the end of term parties?” “The house that has the highest bid gets to host the festivities,” Cindy declared. “And we can start spreading the word at the kegger. By tomorrow morning, everybody on the Row will know what's going on!” With the girls carried away in the excitement, Julia turned to her adoptive daughter. “Victoria, this seems like a good time to introduce you to your new Dad.” Julia suspected that neither Herb nor Vickie would recall meeting at The Pig Sty. Reaching out, she clasped Vickie's hand and slid it into Herb's. “Hi, Dad,” she faltered, struggling to find the words. “I'm … I'm sorry that Pris and I sprang this on you as a surprise. I … I hope ...” Vickie fell silent, looking up into his eyes, hoping to find acceptance there. Herb swept her into his arms, and patted her on the back. “You are the best surprise that Julia and I could ever hope to receive,” he whispered in return. “Now, I need your help. Can you guide me to the guest bedroom? I need to use the john.” While Priscilla was monopolizing the girls' attention, Vickie guided her new parents across the dining hall. Leaving Herb to attend to business, she introduced her Mom to the three older women. She was not at all surprised when Julia and Bernice adjourned to the office, leaving her free to catch up with Amy and Suzie. Vickie had attended no less than six Delta keggers in her undergraduate years, and despite the fact that her memories were trapped in an alcoholic haze, she was reasonably certain that she had always had a good time. A part of her accordingly envied the girls who were embarking on this rite of passage, but a larger part was glad to have finally put the misspent days of her youth to rest. Priscilla was right: she had turned the page, and it was time to embrace the future. Babs watched Priscilla slowly making her way through the crowd. Some of the girls were cheerfully offering her a place in the Diaper House while other teased her with promises to bid high for the privilege of delivering her well earned spanking. There was a smile on Priscilla's lips, but it could not mask the concern that Babs saw in her eyes when Priscilla looked her way. Babs envied the girls and the innocence of youth sheltered from tragedy. Her innocence had been brutally stripped away when she was eight years old, and she had spent two decades wandering in a wilderness of nightmares and pain, impotence and rage. Standing over her, looking down, Priscilla reached out to grasp Babs' shoulder, the age old gesture offering comfort. Babs reached up to grip Priscilla's hand, gently pressing down on it, acknowledging the gesture and welcoming it. It's time, Babs thought, knowing that Ian would be her anchor. It's time to start the long journey home.

I was in hospital for 18 days, and wore their pull-ups for the first 15. They waived a number of policies at that point, including this one. I finished with Bambino's Bellissimo, and no one laughed. Staff understood that interrupted sleep undercuts therapy, so they were happy to see me sleep the night through, then attack the therapy with a will. I'm very open about wearing diapers, and in hospital have not had a bad experience as a result.

Went into the hospital on April 29th,whole right side paralyzed. Immediately began in-patient therapy. Regained right leg pretty quick, but right hand will take time. Now doing outpatient therapy at the hospital. Can write my name, but still typing with one hand. Used a knife for the first time today on chicken fried steak. Will keep at it, and get back to updating my stories as time and my energy level permit. It's incredible how much energy it takes for the brain to heal damage caused by one teeny tiny blood vessel.