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ozziebee

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ozziebee last won the day on December 19 2017

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About ozziebee

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    Toddler

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    Female
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    Australia
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    46

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  1. 20 Week Unpotty Training Update

    Yes, it's rare that I get to experience what a dry nappy feels like. Sometimes I'm still taping up the nappy and I'd be already leaking. I'm also now experiencing wetting whilst sitting on my work chair (at home), some fecal accidents (had two in one day just the other day), and I'm wetting my pullups either on the way home from work, or when I walk in through the door at home. I'm toileting 5 times a day at work, and now have to consciously go to the toilet just before heading home, lest I not make it home. I'm fearful that my pullup will leak (and I know what the answer is, but I still cannot jump over that fence). I work knickers to work last week, and regretted it almost immediately. I felt like I was moments away from wetting all the time, and constantly went back and forth to the toilet. Got home, wet knickers. So now I know that my future is at minimum pullups to work. And yes, Mark, I too seem to "turn the tap off" at work, and although I go frequently to toot, I don't normally pass much water. Only those times where I've been unable to go for a long period do I really tinkle, but at the same time, suffer a bit from my stress IC. Finally, I am not feeling any of the clamping sensations when weeing now too, nor can I stop streams when they start.
  2. Awesome start to a story. You asked me the question the other day about this story - I'd not read it, and then this pops up in the story feed :-) I was physically angry at the turn of events in Making the Best of it because I felt emotionally connected with the main characters. If the cattification of the Little was more permanent, I don't think i'd have read to the end of the story, because of that emotional response - how dare they do that to this sweet little, and how dare the writer from pulling me into a dark space! It wasn't until my third reading where i actually connected the dots, especially how she was poisoned (by another little with a jealous streak), and rescued. That story, Exchanged, Bad Day turned Good all helped motivate me to begin writing Meredith I'd love to know what you think of that DD story I hope this this story is as good as Making the most of it
  3. I heard about this story a month ago, and had to ask around for a copy, as the story was lost in the great purge of October'17. Absolutely loved the first part of the story, but was horrified when the main actor turned into a cat. I was actually physically mad at the DD world, the callousness and utter stupidity of the daycare workers to let her be taken as a pet, and it wasn't easy to contain my emotions about it during work time. Anyway, have read it three times already.
  4. Here's another installment in the mystery and mayhem, the yin and yang, of Meredith. Enjoy. And please let me know what ya think of the story, my writing. ## Chapter 6 - The Camera doesn't Lie One aspect of my life which started giving me comfort was simply waking up each morning. Cracking open an eyelid, and seeing the mobile above me continue tracing its lazy circular path, and hearing the tinny and tinkly music accompaniment, was wonderfully calming to my supple and curious mind. I was invariably lying flat on my back in the cot for overnight sleeps, or propped on a side with a wedge against my back for my morning or afternoon naps. The freshly laundered cot blanket and sheets kept me warm, and often quite trapped if mum really tucked me in before kissing me on the forehead and retreating from the nursery to let me sleep. Turning off the overhead light before walking out, the only illumination in the Nursery would be a night light atop the bookshelf, and a tiny little green light on the radio device on the changing table. If mum remembered, like last night, my bear would be lying next to me under the sheet. I'd sometimes wake up with the bear on top of me with my arms wrapped its neck in a sleepy cuddle, or it'd be propped up against the side of the cot next to my head, waiting patiently for me to wake. This morning I stretched and yawned, and immediately started fidgeting, arms and legs moving, sensing a release of wee into an already soaked overnight nappy. I sensed that mum was even resorting to adding a soaker pad into my night nappy. Of course, I didn't remember being changed for bed last night, as I was completely out of it after being nursed off mum's breasts. Just the thought of breastfeeding made me salivate, wanting more. Littles often told me that Amazon mother's breast milk was addictive, but had side-effects which Amazons loved - the Little would lose their continence. Thinking about my own life as a Little, I was pretty sure that Mummy Henderson never breastfed me. Sure, she babied me for a while, but then unexpectedly let me grow up, develop, attend Uni, become a professional. But so many other Littles never got that chance - there being an unspoken truth about Littles never being allowed to grow up. I seemed to be an exception to that, but only for a short while. Many a time, I asked my HH&S Amazon clients whether they were willing to allow their prospective Little to grow into a functioning adult Little. Even I (naievely) expected the Little to be babied by the new parents for a period of time, only to be "set free" to return to adulthood, though remain adopted. Most parents obviously said yes, but surveys a few years post-adoption would often see the Little still in regressed states. A few of our Littles had even disappeared, with their Amazon parents a bit cagey about their locations. I'd heard through the grapevine that inter-Dimensional Mob gangs would drag Littles across Dimensions to use as incubators. The offspring of those incubators would be free money to the Mob once they were sold to unsuspecting Amazonian parents. After all, money talks to Amazons. HH&S always vetted the Littles they were dealing, examining their life history, birth places, parentage, what they remembered of their childhood. We dealt in pure-bred Littles. Their own blood parents sometimes willingly gave them up for adoption through HH&S, considering voluntary adoption to a loving Amazon couple far better than forced adoption to random Amazons with dubious intentions. Sometimes, success stories happened. I wondered this morning whether I'd be allowed to grow up, again. As I was wide awake, my body decided to continue its seemingly regular morning ablutions, with pressure building in my tummy, only to release on further squirming and leg movements, and a few little groans. I could not stop whatever my body was ejecting into my nappies, my perfect continence gone completely for however many more years. Somehow, Mum just knew I was awake, and in need of a change, soon appearing in the open doorway to the nursery. Looking up into those beautiful blue eyes of hers, I could do nothing else but smile, and softly gurgle away at her. "Good morning, sunshine! I see my little girlie is quite happy this morning!". I melted at the sight of mum, looking down at me, my arms and legs moving excitedly, and seemingly quite randomly. She dropped the side of the cot, and gently lifted me out from under the bedsheets. "Oh oh! Princess has given me a gift?!", she proclaimed, after sniffing the air around me. Darn gifts, I thought. So stinkey. She laid me down on the changing table, and unsnapped the legs on my sleeper. Expert hands had my sleeper up around my nipples in seconds, exposing a nappy cover over the offending overnight-weight disposable nappy. As I was stripped of the layers of cloth and nappy paper, I could feel my lower body break out into goosebumps from the cool morning air. Mum took her time to clean up my bum and around my girly bits, removing the last bits of fecal evidence with some big cloth wipes, that only made me feel colder. She sensed my discomfort, "Sorry, bubba, almost done now". She'd already slid a fresh new day nappy under the old one, so that my butt never touched the fabric of the changing table as she removed the old nappy from under me. She added some desitin cream to my butt and girly bits, some baby powder, and closed up the new nappy, expertly fastening the tapes. I was snug as a bug. A fresh nappy cover from a drawer was pulled up my legs, with the leg gathers adjusted to cover the disposable trapped inside. Once re-fastened into my sleeper, she grabbed both legs, and dragged me right down to the end of the table, my legs hanging over the edge. I lifted them up, and pushed them into Mum's chest as she leant over the table, her arms flat on it, cradling my sides so I couldn't roll over. Here we go, I thought, intimate moment coming up. "You remember what the doctor said yesterday, right?", she asked quietly whilst looking into my eyes, studying them. I nodded back at her, not sure where this was going. "Are you ok with what he said?" No, I wasn't ok with losing what knowledge I had as Meredith Henderson, so I shook my head slowly. "I'm really sorry about that". She paused, studying my face and running fingers through my hair, picking a bit of snot out of my nose. "We didn't think there'd be problems caused by your NAP transformation. NAP transforms are permanent." More goosebumps, realising I can't be changed back to a Little. Would I ever want to, though? "Again, I'm really sorry to put you through it, now. But that doesn't matter. Because you know why?" Slight confusion, my face a mix of emotion. "Because your perfect, every little facet of you is perfect". I had to be regressed to be perfect, apparently. I sniffled and squirmed. "I bet you'd love to be able to talk, though huh?" Yeah, talking would be very beneficial to all of us about now, I thought. "Daddy and I only did what we thought was best for you at the time. Littles don't get to grow up, you know, but an Amazon baby does. It'll just take time, and you'll learn to speak again, and read, and write, and go to daycare, and school. Are you ok with all that?" I nodded, tears forming in my eyes. Mummy acknowledged I could grow up, be Meredith again, an Amazonian Meredith. "Are you mad at me, for doing what we did?" No, so a shake of my head. How could I be mad? "That's good. You know daddy and mummy love you so, so very much", spoken softly, as she started stroking and playing with my wispy hair. "Do you love us?" I immediately nodded, prompting Mum to lean over and kiss me tenderly on the lips, which I wasn't expecting, then my nose, then my forehead. I started giggling, silly mummy. "So today, my sweetness, we shall get us some breakfast, then go to the shops to get stuff for a barbeque this afternoon. You'll get to meet all your brothers and sisters, and their kids too! How does that all sound?" I couldn't wait, so I giggled some more, waving my arms and legs with excitement. After a breakfast of warm oatmeal, some grapes, and a bottle of milk, Mum carried sleepy food coma'd me back to the changing table, for a change of clothes and a fresh nappy. I was in a sorta-sleepy mood when Mum lowered me into the baby capsule, and fastened the harness restraints together. She handed me my teddy bear, covered us both in my comforter blanket, pushed my pacifier into my mouth, and set off through the house into the garage. Daddy was there, so he gave me a kiss too before lifting my capsule into the truck. A few minutes later, I had to squint and close my eyes from the bright sunlight as our SUV reversed out onto our street, and we were off. I started watching the scenery slide by outside the window next to me, but the sunshade stuck to the window kept that view mostly blurry and diffuse. So I was stuck in a spot with not much to capture my attention. The SUV's movements, the quiet rush of the road noise outside, and the lingering effects of my breakfast were all enough to cause a yawn or two, and I soon buried my face in the bear, and nodded off to sleep. I woke up when mum lifted me out of the capsule, feeling suddenly quite cold. She placed me into a padded seat which looked like a high chair, but was black and dark grey canvas, with straps everywhere. She quickly fastened the straps holding me in place, put a yellow bucket hat on my head, and leant down towards me. "Ready, bubba?" Yup, ok, I think so, maybe? With some trepidation, I nodded. Mum grabbed hold of two big wide straps, and hoisted the carrier I was strapped into onto her chest, the straps going over her shoulders. She took a few moments to tighten them, and one across her hips and lower back, and once more we were off to the Mall and eventually the shopping centre at the top of the Mall. We walked out of the parking garage, meandering lazily up the Mall, Mum peeking into the odd shop or two, my bouncing around in the carrier on her chest. This was a totally different experience for me, but I was still a bit zoned out. Occasionally she'd start humming a tune or two, giving my forehead a kiss. I mostly just sat there, legs dangling out into space through legholes in the bottom front of the carrier, my arms down by my side, head turned to one side or the other, and resting up against Mum's chest. It was another warm sunny day, so lots of Amazons and Littles were out and about, especially given this was the start of a weekend, and two days of glorious weather. Littles caught my attention again. Some were regressed, some not. I noticed one family, husband and wife, with two Littles in tow, one a regressed Little in a stroller, and one who looked quite tween-ish. The two Littles were quite happily conversing and joking away, the baby of the two babbling away in baby gibberish. Neither of the parents admonished them, much to the chagrin of some of the other Amazons nearby. "You really should be punishing your tween Little for talking normally - they should all be talking like babies you know!", one said. I had to stifle a giggle, but couldn't help but smile behind my pacifier. Mum sensed my happiness at the scene, and whispered to me, "Those two Littles are adorable, huh". We walked into a butcher shop, famous for the most succulent and tender beef cuts in town, and the best beef sausages. I remembered that this butcher also catered for meat cuts in Little sized portions. Mum bought a few foil-lined bags of meat, and we were soon crossing the road at the top of the Mall, and into the shopping complex. I hadn't moved for a bit whilst mum walked within the complex, and soon felt her lift my hat, to discover I was mostly asleep. "Oi, baby girl, you awake?", she whispered. Opening an eyelid, I could see her smooth facial features, her massive deep blue eyes looking curiously back at me. "Too cute - I need to put you down for a bit here. Time for a coffee, me thinks!". It was only then that I realised we were in Bellamys, my favourite cafe. Mum selected a table inside Bellamys, dropped the meat bags onto the floor, then gingerly removed the carrier straps, easing me to the floor too. She rummaged around in a pocket below where I was seated, and pulled out a bottle of juice. After ordering a single coffee for herself, she held up the bottle to my mouth, causing me to spit out the paci, and slowly nurse on the apple & blackcurrant juice. Although it tasted nice, I was supremely jealous of the coffee Mum was sipping on. Quite unexpectedly, after catching my inquisitive look, she retrieved my pacifier, unclipped it, dunked it into her coffee, and offered it up. "Don't tell Daddy, ok?" As I laid back in the carrier, enjoying the few drops of precious coffee clinging to the pacifier teet, Mum sipped the last few mouthfuls. I was so in heaven with discovering the taste again, I didn't notice Mum snapping some photos of me, in my own little world. We were soon in motion again, towards the grocery supermarket. As we entered the store, Mum grabbed a shopping trolley, dumped the meat bags into it, but kept the carrier with myself inside, up on her shoulders. By the time we'd walked all the aisles, the trolley was almost full. ---- Jacksen crept up to Stowe, who was lying prone under some bushes, intently studying the car and driver. Stowe had been watching the car almost all night. There’d been no other vehicle movement in the street for this time in the morning, which seemed a bit odd to Stowe. Unbeknownst to him, Jac had arranged roadblocks, stopping vehicles from entering the streets in the area. “Stowe, how goes things?”, Jac whispered. “Tired, mate, been watching this car for hours now. Goon man hasn’t moved from that one spot, keeps chugging away on ciggies, drinking water, and studying the house with his binos.”, Stowe replied, emotionless, but betrayingly emitting his hopelessly tired voice. "He has to be peeing into his used bottles too." “Ok, but gross.” “Mate, the guy is as thick as two bricks, he’s not checked his six or anything” Jac looked at the scene. Around the corner, there were two parked cars between him and the target vehicle. “You’re sure there’s no lookouts?”, he asked. “No, mate, there aren't, I’ve been checking” “You haven't been in this one position all morning?” Stowe looked back at his mate with a tired, but cheesy grin. “Obviously you don’t know me all that well, Jaccy boy. I’ve checked two blocks in every direction, ok! A man has to stretch occasionally too, find a tree to pee on, ya dig!” “Ok, ok, bro, but still gross. I trust ya, though I do think you need a break. You look totally stuffed.” Stowe chuckled and returned to studying the driver. "Ya certainly go that last part right, Jaccy boy". A thought entered his tired brain, maybe his last clear thought of the stakeout. “Hey Jac, you got a tracker handy?” “Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing, bro. Jac turned away, crouch walked about halfway back up the side street, away from the target, and dug out his radio. “Herbie, you copy? … Yeah, can you bring up a vehicle tracker? … Thanks”. About five minutes later, Jac returned to Stowe, and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Stowe turned around, and noticed that Jac had a Little with him, who was dressed in dark tactical pants and shirt, and holding a tiny box in his hand. Stowe sat up, and held out his right hand. “Howdy, I’m Stowe”. The Little shot out his hand for a handshake, the offered hand tiny in comparison with Stowe’s chiselled massive Amazonian hand. “Hey, I’m PFC Herbert” “Didn’t know the Feds employed Littles”. Stowe examined the Little with his eyes. The guy was scrawny but looked quite fit, average Little height, he had a certain quiet arrogance about him, apart from the clear embarassment after Stowe's comment. "Ah, shit, sorry... My mouth doesn't know how to shut up when I'm tired." “Herbie’s our best Electronics Intelligence specialist”, Jac countered. Herbie laid down next to Stowe, and peeked around the corner. After a few minutes of watching the driver, he shot out from under the bushes, and combat-rolled under the first car. Stowe was impressed - Herbie had chosen the exact time that the driver lifted his binoculars to his eyes, so was blind to movement in the car’s mirrors. Stowe watched, as the specialist slowly crawled under the line of cars, to the rear bumper of the target vehicle. Herbie’s movement slowed as he carefully edged under the rear bumper of the car, and went to work attaching the tracker. Stowe could plainly see how having a Little worked for this team - there was no way an Amazon would be able to get under the vehicle enough to fit that tracker. Herbie again slowly backtracked under the cars, and raised himself to a crouch behind the boot of the last car after crawling back the way he went in. He looked back at Stowe, and hand-signalled him to tell when the driver was distracted. Stowe had to wait a good ten minutes before Herbie was waved back to the bushes. When he returned to Stowe and Jac, he was covered in sweat from the exertion and stress of the situation. Pulling out a handheld display, he switched it on, and played with the tracker application, handing it to Jac, before walking back to the rest of the team, hidden out of sight. Another thirty minutes of silence and watching, Stowe groaned as he stretched his legs and limbs. “Stowe, go and get a coffee and some rest, mate. I’ll alert you if the guy moves” “Righteo”. Stowe backed out of his position, stood up, stretched, and leaned on Jac’s shoulder. “Don’t let this fucker escape, Jac”. “Nah mate” “Call off the road blocks too that I know you’ve prolly set up, as there's been no traffic for hours now. This guy’s probably too dumb to notice that. He’s only a lookout for Ramon, not a hitman. I’ve not seen him use his mobile neither”. “Good observations, bro”, Jac admitted. Stowe punched him on the shoulder, then retreated from the scene back to the battlewagon. Jumping in it, he laid his head on the steering wheel for a minute, then started the van up, and drove back towards town. Yes, he needed a coffee, and he knew just the place to get it from too. ---- Mum and I had completed the grocery shopping, with the trolley full of plastic bags and carboard boxes. Mum had given me a treat as we walked out of the shop, a squishy biscuit-like teething stick to suck on. In my mouth, against my gums, this too was heaven. My gums were becoming increasingly sensitive, so any chance to cool them off was good in my books. Mum casually started our stroll back through the shopping centre, past Bellamys. Both her and I briefly looked through the doors as we meandered by, Mum emitting a quiet chuckle. Around the ornate fountain, back down towards the exit doors to the street, and the top of the Mall. Walking outside, we were hit with the increasing heat of the day. Morning was fast disappearing, the sun climbing higher and higher into the bluebird sky. "Gee, it's getting hot now, huh bubba!" I was ok for the moment, so long as I had my yellow bucket hat on. We stopped at the pedestrian traffic lights, waiting to cross the street. Mum turned to look at a disturbance a bit further up, a Little woman struggling against her harness restraints in a stroller, fighting to regain freedom from her captor, screaming and hollering away for all to hear, her young Amazonian mother clearly struggling to keep control of the situation. As Mum turned, I was able to look down the Mall, straight into the eyes of Stowe. The big man, my hero, was walking up the middle of the Mall, towards the traffic lights we were at, his whole body posture screaming exhaustion. Stopping at the lights on the other side of the street, I could study him more intently. Gee it was great to see him. He looked a bit disheveled, though. I'd seen that look before in him actually, it was his post-stakeout fuck-off-I'm-too-tired-for-your-shit look. I wondered who he was staking out, then a thought occurred to me. He'd not been watching us, because he clearly wasn't recognising either Mum or I. But I was shocked when he seemed to look straight through me. Could he not see me, Meredith Henders... err, oh... Of course - He was still expecting a Little Meredith, not an Amazon baby Meredith. I had to attract his attention, so he could see me. I had the same hair, the same eyes, surely he could see me, deduce that I'm here, at last! I'm saved! I'll be back in his arms any second now! My first instinct was to point and wave at him. So I held out my hand in his direction, my arm unsteady, cooing and giggling quite loudly and excitedly. Attempting a wave, I could only remember opening and closing my fisted hand, the one that held the teething biscuit. Of course, as it fell towards the ground, Mum sensed this, and turned towards it, bending down in an attempt to catch it, causing me to lose sight of Stowe. The next time I saw him, he was right next to us, bending down to pick up the biscuit. "Sorry, Maam, your baby dropped this". He handed the biscuit to Mum, took a very brief look at me, eyebrow raised, but then simply walked off into the shopping centre. I cried, oh gee did I cry a tanty. As tears blurred my sight, I suddenly remembered the hat. He had no idea I was Meredith, because of the silly hat, covering my hair as it did. So I reached up to grab it, discovering it was held to my head tight. I balled up my fists, and cried tears of utter frustration, Mum valiantly trying to calm me down. "Oh, Meredith, I'll get you another biscuit in a second, darling, you can't have this one - the 10 second rule applies!", she whispered to me. Of course, to her, this tanty was all about the dropped biscuit. In her infinite wisdom, she decided to press on down the Mall to the SUV, largely ignoring my cries. Thrusting my pacifier into my gaping mouth, she picked up her walking speed. The bumps I felt through the carrier harness, the exertion of my crying fit, the squeeks and crashes of the shopping trolley, all quickly tired me out, and by the time she'd reached the bottom of the Mall, turning off to head into the parking garage, I was quiet as a mouse, and out like a light. I didn't wake until we got home. ---- Stowe sat at a window table in Bellamys, twirling a teaspoon around in his mug of Kaffee Latte, watching the three sugars slowly collapse through the white milk froth, dissolving before his very eyes. Hehe, that's how his whole life seemed to be right now, he thought, just dissolving away. He still had no idea where Meredith was, or if she was even alive. Not a peep, which was very strange indeed. If she'd been captured by Ramon, surely he would have heard from a goon, or even Ramon himself by now with some sort of ransom demand. Or maybe an indication where to find her Little body. The dopey goon driver was leading him nowhere, but otherwise driving him insane. The guy was parked in front of Mark Bradley's place, concentrating on tailing Mark Bradley, because Ramon was looking to snatch or otherwise harm Michael. Nowhere within this orgy of subterfuge was anyone looking for Meredith Henderson. Stowe reminded himself that even he had just spent darn near a full day watching dopey goon man too. In fact, he'd been consumed with and blinkered into finding the asshole, due to a mistaken belief that the goon would lead him to Meredith. Bzzzzttt. Wrong, Stowe, ya goose. Stowe worked his way through a labyrinth of random thoughts on the subject, whilst sipping down tiny mouthfuls of the amazing coffee. Jacksen was watching dopey guy now, right, so maybe Stowe could ease up on that line of intellectual reasoning, and start down a new line of investigations towards finding Meredith again. Yes, he thought, he could have watched the driver for long enough to lead back to the boss man, or maybe even Ramon, but it was doubtful the Family even had Meredith? Again, there's been no word from them. But there has been contact - the break-in at the office. Hmm... deep thoughts needed more fuel, so needed food, Stowe concluded. He caught the eye of a waitress, and ordered some faux-Italian pasta dish. In this Dimension, there was no "Italy" to speak of, with all the recipes imported from another Dimension - the one called "Earth", or so the tale fortold. Stowe wondered how much money the person who initially imported those recipes made as a result. In any event, the faux food was always delicious in Bellamys. If Meredith had been tortured to reveal the whereabouts of the Michael Stone documents, the office wouldn't have been trashed, Stowe wondered. The smart thing the perps would have done was left everything untouched to cover their tracks, and only accessed Meredith's computer. But because they were clueless, they had no option but to trash the place, and hack her computer. They were desperate for the documents, after all. Ok, Stowe concluded, so Meredith likely hadn't been taken and tortured. Jac's "enquiries" also had not turned up anything, and those even encompassed checking hospital admission records. Stowe sat back in his seat, looking around for inspiration, or maybe simply looking for an excuse to get out of there, go home, and sleep. He locked his focus on a woman and a Little. She had obviously regressed the poor boy back to a toddler age, and feeding him some biscuits. The Little seemed quiet, apprehensive, rather well padded in a nappy and plastic pants, but otherwise content to knaw away at the treat. He thought back to the accident, which was still quite raw and fresh in his mind. Meredith was hit by the car, so was Mrs H. Being methodical with his thoughts, keeping his emotions in check for once (and recognising the tiredness was helping to keep his thoughts detached), he dispationately surveyed the accident scene by playing through it like a video tape recording within his mind. As he turned to chase the car down the street, he caught a glimpse of an Amazon woman rush onto the road, bending down towards Meredith. In his mind, on that tape, her features were pretty non-descript. After all, Stowe's mind only recorded a mere half-second of vision, before the mind's camera lens focused on the back of the car, and the driver. His mind rewound the tape back to the spot where he noticed the woman bend over towards Meredith. Amazon woman, injured Little. Think outside the square, Stowe! It's obvious now, Stowe, isn't it? All Stowe could do was completely freeze up at the revelation, a morsel of pasta hanging off the end of his fork, mere centimetres from his mouth. He'd never contemplated the idea that Meredith had been taken to be adopted, but now it seemed an obvious conclusion. Was this new adoption even legal? Meredith had been chipped by Mrs Henderson, Stowe knew, so the adoption to Mrs H was made legal at that point way back when. But hold on, would Meredith's adoption by Mrs H still stand even though Mrs H was dead. Fuck me sideways, what happens then?! Stowe's mind began to panic at the possibility Meredith was legally someone else's daughter. But a nagging thought joined the dance party. That woman in the vision seemed, sorta, familiar. But from where? Stowe immediately made a mental note to check up on the legalities of termination of adoption when he was back in the office. Back to the question at hand, the woman in the tape. He looked across the restaurant to the lady feeding her Little another biscuit. Stowe suddenly remembered stopping today to pick up a child's biscuit from off the ground at the top of the Mall, just nearby, not all that long ago actually. Again, in the brief period of time he saw the child, a baby actually, it too looked familiar. The child was smiling, possibly even waving at him. Actually, he remembered hearing that child get really upset when he walked off into the shopping centre. What was it about that child, that baby, that Amazonian baby? I know, Stowe remembered, it was the eyes, her eyes. FUCK! He slammed his hand on the table in disgust, causing a number of customers to yelp in surprise, startling the Little into dropping his biscuit onto the floor, immediately causing a scene. He left the rest of his lunch on the table, but sculled his hot coffee in one gulp, before he stood up and left Bellamys, briskly walking out into the Mall. There was no sign of the lady, or the baby. He paced nervously up and down the Mall, thinking about his next steps. The lady he saw looked like she was a regular visitor to the Mall. All Stowe needed to do then was be around the Mall when the woman next showed up. It was a weak plan, but the only one he had for the time being. Sitting on a bench, he pulled out his phone. [Stowe] I think I know what happened to Meredith! [Jacksen] What? [Stowe] adopted by a witness to the accident which killed Mum [Jacksen] And you know this, how? [Stowe] i'm an investigator, so I investigate, unlike you... [Jacksen] haha, very funny [Stowe] look, i need to chase down this lead [Jacksen] ok [Stowe] can you handle looking after the goon for me? [Jacksen] Sure, but what about Mark Bradley, and Michael Stone? [Stowe] they're not my concern anymore, jac, meredith is. [Jacksen] And if Ramon makes a play? [Stowe] then u deal with it. mark is one of your guys, after all! [Jacksen] I thought you wanted the goon who ran over Mrs H? [Stowe] i do, but I need to watch the Mall, it's where I've seen the witness, who took Meredith Stowe waited a few minutes for a reply. Something was happening, Jac was busy... [Jacksen] hold on a sec, Stowe... [Stowe] what? whats happening, Jac? [Jacksen] dafuq is up with this guy, Stowe?! Mark's just left the house with family in tow, and this dumb fuck isn't tailing him? he's not driving away.. dafuq? [Stowe] you know what to do, Jac. Good luck.
  5. Shapewear And Diapers

    I've found that fixation pants work really well for this too - Abena or Molicare fixation pants. Tends to hold the tapes together a bit longer too, and not as much sag when wet.
  6. Naps?

    I love naps in the afternoons on weekends - one or two hour naps. Have had some great ones too, getting a warm bottle of milk to nurse on into sleep whilst lying on the lounge sofa. So comfy!
  7. How do you sleep?

    I go to sleep with whatever night nappy I have put on that evening. Sometimes it's dry, but lately most times its wet to some degree. Around 1030/11pm I'll change into my night nappy. I then let the dog out to wee before her bedtime, have a glass of water, and make a bottle of warm milk or warm formula. That warm bottle of milk/formula really does a number on me, and I'm out like a light most nights nursing from it. I'l wake up the next morning with varying states of wet nappies, sometimes soaked, most times a fair bit wet, some times mildly wet, but always wet. i've not had a dry overnight nappy since September last year. Most nights, I can sleep a few hours with my NUK pacifier too - I wake up with such a start though once I realise it's still in - it's still a bit of a shock to enjoy nursing on that in sleep state.
  8. So here is Chapter 5, in Meredith's adventure in the Diaper Dimension. Please let me know if you enjoy reading it as much as Iv'e enjoyed writing it. -- ## Chapter 5 - Communication As I lay on my back, with my teddy bear gripped in the crook of my left elbow, looking up at the mobile slowly rotating above me, I wondered why I was so fascinated by it. After all, it was just a handful of bears and bunnies hanging down from the mobile, endlessly tracing a circle. But I think it was more the movement catching my attention, and the soft jingling music accompanying that movement. The mobile held my attention until I began to feel pain in my tummy, with pressure slowly building up to the point where I started involuntarily squirming, grunting, moving and stretching my legs, and feeling my face turn red from exertion. The point where it started to become unbearable, there was a release, and I could smell something horrid down there, under the sheet and blanket I was pinned under. My exertions and cries didn't go unnoticed, and I was quite startled when I noticed Mum enter the room, drop the side of the cot, peel back the blanket and sheet, and lift me up towards her shoulder. "Hehe, I know what your problem is, bubba!", she squealed at me, whilst setting me down atop the change table. Mum's expert hands undid the snaps of my sleeper, and peeled back the material up to my stomach, to reveal a nappy cover. As she undid the cover's velcro wings, we could both smell the issue at hand. My night nappy was both quite wet, and also a bit poopy too, though I could see Mum take the challenge in her stride, cleaning me up, placing a fresh disposable nappy under me, rubbing in some Desitin rash cream over my butt and tush, closing the nappy up between my legs and fastening the tapes. She reached into a drawer for a fresh clean nappy cover, quickly fastening it up, and adjusting the fit to cover all of the disposable, before finally closing up my sleeper. She sat me up in the middle of the changing table, and leaned over, resting her head on her hands, elbows on the table. "So today, girlie, we'll get some brekky, and then I'll take you to see a doctor, then maybe some lunch. Does that sound like some fun?" I was only interested in the breakfast, so I eagerly nodded, and started slapping my hands on my thighs. Mum picked me up, and walked off into the kitchen, placing me in the high chair. She handed me what looked to be a circular teething toy. "Here you go, princess, say 'ta'". The ring had little bumps and indentations all over it, and I let out a 'ba ba ba' as I took it from Mum, immediately stuffing it into my mouth. It tasted a little plasticky, but was also quite squishy and soothing to my toothless gums. Before I could start drooling all over my sleeper, Mum had tied a cloth bib around my neck. I watched Mum make breakfast, giggling and baby talking away through the teething ring, occasionally banging it against the high chair's tray. "Are you in a good mood this morning, Meredith?" Uh huh, yes I was! I had a good sleep last night, had an amazing dream about something, of which I didn't recall, but that didn't matter. "Hey hey! Stop banging your toy, you'll break it!" The ring went straight back into my mouth. Mum grabbed a stool from under the island bench, and sat down next to me, placing the bowl of steaming oatmeal on the bench next to the high chair. Grabbing a spoon, she loaded it up with some oatmeal, and offered it to me. "Ok, deary, the choice is yours - either the ring, or the oatmeal?", she cooed at me, with a smirk and a raised right eyebrow. I had no choice, really, so I dropped the ring on the tray, and opened my mouth, salivating for some food. It didn't take long though for my stomach to pass on messages of fullness, causing me to hesitate before each mouthful. But somehow I made it to the end of the bowl, and sat back in the high chair feeling full with some light-headedness from the food coma that was sure to hit me, watching Mum move around the island bench into the kitchen. She retrieved a banana from a fruit bowl, peeled it, and cut it up into tiny pieces, placing them onto a plate. She also grabbed a bottle of milk formula from the warmer, walked back to me, picked me up out of the high chair, and sat down on a couch nearby, placing me on her lap. As I reclined back against her stomach, she offered me a piece of the banana, which I took with my right hand. Although I knew that it was a banana piece, for the life of me I couldn't remember what a banana tasted like. It felt soft and squishy in my hand, yet I had no hesitation in stuffing it into my mouth. While my tastebuds were exploding with the new taste and smell of the banana piece, and forgetting for a moment that I had no space in my tummy for much else, Mum reached over to the coffee table, and retrieved her phone. "Yes, good morning, my name is Jennifer Bradley, and I'm calling to see if Dr Greyson is available to examine my daughter, Meredith, today if possible please? ... Yes, yes, that's her, she underwent NAP therapy... Yes... Ok, excellent, 11am is fine, thanks! ... Ok, we'll be there! Bye!" She looked at me, and handed over another piece of banana. I was in culinary heaven, and eagerly grabbed the offered piece, pushing it straight into my mouth, though not without getting half of it all over my chin and cheeks and nose. "Hehe, silly you, you're supposed to eat it, not paint your face with it!", Mum giggled at me, before cleaning my face with the bib. "I'll need a wipe for this, actually", she mumbled to herself, leaning over to the coffee table again, and retrieving a wipe from a packet. After cleaning my face and hands of the banana, she offered me the warm bottle of milk. Though my stomach was telling me that I was already full, my eyes were too big for my stomach, opening my mouth once more for some liquid nourishment. She supported my back with her left arm, her left hand cradling my butt, and offered the bottle's teat to my mouth. No sooner had I started suckling the warm, amazing tasting milk, stomach messages told brain centres to slow down. Food coma hit hard, my eyelids started obeying the laws of gravity, my eyes rolled into the back of their sockets, and I slowly nursed away into la la land. I woke up with a start as I felt my body in motion. Looking around I discovered I was strapped into the car capsule, with Mum carrying it across a car park towards some large buildings. As she entered one building through a set of sliding doors, my olfactory sensed disinfectant, and I looked up to see big squares of fluorescent lights. With the sounds and movements around me, I gathered we were in a hospital. Mum placed the capsule on the floor, and leaned over a counter to speak to an unknown person. "Hi, I'm here to see Dr Greyson, I have an 11 o'clock appointment?" "Please take a seat just over there, Mrs Bradley, and Doctor be along shortly to see you" "Thanks!", she replied casually, as she bent down to pick up the capsule. Finding a seat, she placed the capsule on the seat next to her, so I could see her. "Did you have a good sleep, Meredith?" Yup, I did, so I nodded, and yawned, my paci falling out of my mouth. Mum leant in and placed it back where it belonged. After a couple of minutes waiting, with Mum texting away on her phone, we were called into the doctor's office. "Hiya Mrs Bradley", Dr Greyson cheerfully greeted us, as we entered his examination room. "And how is Meredith today?", he asked as Mum sat down at his desk, placing my capsule on the desk. Dr Greyson looked in at me, and started to undo the restraints. "Meredith is progressing quite well at home, Doc, but she has some very weird episodes from time to time. Last night it took Keith and I ages to calm her down, it was the worst one yet" "Describe them to me", Dr Greyson asked, as he lifted me out of the capsule, after wrapping me up in my blanket. "Well, she could be interacting with me normally, but suddenly her focus changes, her eyes roll up and get really twitchy, like she's in the middle of a dream, her whole body twitches, arms and legs sometimes get a bit animated, she's spaced out, and largely unresponsive" "For how long?" "Oh, up to about a minute or so" I was totally fascinated by this talk, about how I was reacting physically to my flashbacks. "Is she convulsing during these episodes?", Dr Greyson enquired as he laid me down on an examination bed. "I need to listen to her heart and chest if that's ok?" "No, she doesn't convulse during these episodes, she would often be quite limp" Dr Greyson unwrapped me from the blanket. Mum had dressed me in a light yellow sun dress, so Dr Greyson lifted the hem to expose my little chest and tummy. Placing the cold stethoscope on my chest caused an inhalation of breath from shock each time, and squirming of my legs. "Yeah, her heart is good, beating strongly", he noted. He lowered the hem of my sun dress, covering me back up, and grabbed my hands, looking at them, and then forcing my arms around. He did the same with my feet, examining them, then moving my legs up and down, bending my knees. He wrapped me back up in the blanket, then retrieved a tool to look into my ears. "Does she scream at all during the episodes?" "No, she's quite silent actually. It's only when we wake her from them that she has a crying fit" "And the one last night, what was she doing at the time?". Dr Greyson pulled a penlight from his top pocket, and flicked a beam of light into each of my eyes. I could do nothing but blink in response. "Oh, you've got me there... let me think for a sec. She was in the playpen in the home theater room, we were watching TV. I think she was looking at the screen at the time too." "What was on the screen?". Dr Greyson stopped what he was doing, and looked at Mum. "I think the news was on, yes, yes, that's right", Mum thought aloud "Do you remember what the news item was about?" "No, not really, but now I think about it, Meredith must have reacted to whatever it was" I nodded slowly, looking at Mum the entire time. Dr Greyson laid me back into the capsule. I couldn't see either him or Mum, so I started to fidget, moving my arms and legs. "Mrs Bradley, Meredith looks fine, there's physically nothing wrong. However, if you recall, we did discuss an issue during Meredith's NAP procedure, and I subsequently followed up with the technician... let me see my notes here...". He scanned through a ream of notes, finding the right page. "Yes, yes. Initial stages of the NAP procedure involve compiling character traits. The procedure is so invasive that we can turn individual traits on, or off, or augment existing traits as required by the specifications. Looking at these notes, I'm led to believe that she has somehow retained her prior adult knowledge..." "Which is why she can understand me!", Mum interjected, excitedly. "Yes, indeed. However, this is only temporary", he stated, and looked up to Mum. "Oh, how so?" "If you don't use it, you lose it, essentially. So if she can't use that adult knowledge, it will fade away over time, quite sadly." "How long?" "Could be days, weeks, months, we really don't know, I'm sorry" I was quite still by this stage, listening intently. This was not good news. My memory of Stowe and old mum would soon dissolve away. "Oh, so she will get to the stage where she won't understand me?" "No, on the contrary, she's constantly learning new things, as babies do, and will learn to interact and understand, also as babies do over time." "So her episodes will gradually disappear?" "Yes, she's probably recollecting old knowledge based on events or surroundings, so yes, as that old knowledge fades away, so will her episodes." I started crying once I realised I was bound by an unknown timeframe within which I had to contact Stowe. As Mum clicked my capsule into the car carrier affixed in our SUV, her phone started ringing, emitting a strange ringtone - "It's your daughter, that's right! You know the one, your d to the a to the u to the g to the h to the t...". She quickly reached into the capsule to finish arranging the blanket covering me, closed the door, and pulled out her phone. I started giggling at the silliness of the ringtone. "Hiya Sarah!", I could hear Mum speaking away as she jumped into the drivers seat. "Wait a sec, and Ill set up speakerphone. " Mum fiddled with the phone for a second after starting the SUV, and suddenly I heard a new voice over the truck's speakers. "Mum! How are you?" "I'm awesome, Sarah, baby, how are you?". Sarah was the youngest of the two natural-born Amazon children in the Bradley clan. I'd never heard her voice until now, a voice which seemed strong and vibrant. "I'm great, Mum. Got your message, and yes, I'd love to do lunch today, and meet little Meredith." "I was hoping you'd say that! Is Kaitlyn with you? " "No, Mum, she's in daycare today!" "Aww, I was hoping that Meredith could meet her. Oh well" "Sorry, Mum. Gotta keep working on her socialising skills. Anyway, you did say lunch, and I'm starved!" "Meet me at Bellamys in the Mall, 30 minutes" "Righteo Mum, see ya soon" Jolts of energy ripped through my little body when I heard we were going to Bellamys. I loved the coffee at that place, and those lovely toasted cheese sandwiches they made. Synapses reminded me that we were on our way to Bellamys for coffee when Mummy Henderson and I were run over. Surely, fate doesn't strike twice? Ten minutes later, Mum found a parking spot for the SUV. She spent a few minutes cursing at the back of the truck, fidgetting with something, before appearing at my door with the stroller half of my baby capsule. The capsule itself clicked into the stroller's frame, so Mum didn't have to undo any of the harness restraints, or remove me from the capsule. I was faced towards her, so I couldn't see anything in front of us. The capsule's sun shield was raised to cover me from the hot sun, so my visibility out to the sides reduced even further. She threw a nappy bag into the bottom of the stroller, hung her purse across the stroller handlebars, and we were off into the Mall proper. The Mall began as a pedestrian-only open-air street, blocked off to all traffic bar emergency vehicles. With shops on both sides of the street, there were people everywhere, shopping, eating, and enjoying the fine sunny and hot weather. Looking back past Mum, I caught a brief glimpse of the exact spot Mummy H and I were run over. Within the block beyond was the HH&S office. I wondered whether Stowe was still at work. Looking around, I noticed that Amazons didn't care for an obvious natural baby in a stroller, taking no notice of me. I did see some Littles in various states of regression, from a small group of very nervous adult Littles (a couple of them hiding what looked to be cardboard placards), to individuals who were confined to strollers wearing nothing but a nappy, to one perched on the hip of an Amazon mum, to twins who were led around by neck collars and tethered by leashes under control of their Amazon parents. I really hoped some of those who were in states of distress weren't HH&S placed Littles. As we waited to cross a road at the top of the Mall, I watched an adult Little, around 30 years old, who was strapped into a stroller. His abdomen was encased in a very thick evening-weight plain white disposable nappy, which spread his legs wide apart. The sleeveless shirt he was also wearing had no hope of covering the bulk of the nappy, so I had no choice but to see the yellow stains in the crotch, and a hint of brown skidmarks towards the seat. He didn't look happy, as he squirmed and fidgetted, the hot sun streaming down across his exposed face, arms and legs, a silencing pacifier in his mouth, drool slowly creeping down from a corner. His Amazonian mother looked none the wiser for his distress, which was sad. That Little would be in pain for days with the sunburn he was being subjected to. That one reminder of how bad it could be for Littles made me start to appreciate how lucky I was with my own situation. Being regressed into a natural-born baby's body and mind now didn't seem so bad, though I would have liked to have at least retained the ability to talk. I'd not been otherwise mistreated by Mum or Dad. A block up the Mall, the open-air space transformed into a proper under-the-one-roof major shopping centre. It was hot enough outside that, as Mum pushed me through the doors into the air-conditioned building, I inhaled the frigid air, and ended up holding my breath from the shock of the temperature difference. I knew that Bellamys was near the centre of the building, overlooking a quite beautiful indoor fountain. Give the Amazons credit where credit was due, they certainly knew how to lay out beautiful and functionally relaxing spaces for the population. Mum selected a window table inside Bellamys, through which she could survey the comings and goings through the rest of the shopping centre, but more importantly, get all excited when her daughter appeared around the centre courtyard fountain. I was thoroughly bored until I caught sight of Sarah Bradley for the first time. She was almost the same height as Mum, but was much more petite, slim, but fit. She wore a conservative plain knee-length dress with a stitched bodice which accentuated her perky, 22 year old youthful breasts. Minimal makeup, with some lip gloss, as that seemed to be all she needed. She noticed Mum, and glided across the tiled floor of the centre into Bellamys with ease, kissing and hugging her mum for a good minute or so, until she noticed me. "My, oh my, aren't you the most adorably stunningly cute baby, Miss Meredith!", she cooed and giggled at me, her face not more than about a metre away from me. "May I?", she asked, glancing across to my Mum. "Sure!" Sarah unhesitatingly extracted me from the baby capsule, and brought me to her shoulder, giving me a smotheringly great hug, which looked like it was crushing every bone in my tiny fragile body, but was executed really very gently and carefully. She was as much a pro at handling me as Mum was, as I remembered that she had a baby of her own. She smooth talked to me for a few minutes while Mum ordered the food, cooing and cuddling and giggling whilst tickling my belly and feet. "You've got such beautiful blue eyes, missy princess!" "Here, be a kind mother, and give this to the impossibly cute princess in your arms there", Mum joked, as she handed Sarah a bottle of formula for me. Sarah sat the bottle on the table in front of her, laid me down on top of my blanket stretched across her lap, swaddled me in it which surprised me, and then laid me across her arm (much like Mum did), before offering me the bottle. I accepted the teat, latched on, and started to nurse and suck down my milk-based lunch with a sigh, disappointed that I wasn't in any position to taste one of Bellamy's wonderfully rich aromatic coffees. The two women had ordered sandwiches and coffees, so I resigned myself to my fate, and began to embrace the milk coma sensations. "Hey, Mum, has Mark contacted you yet?" "No, why?" "He's home tomorrow. Their cruise docks about 6 in the morning." "Hmm... So he tells his sister, but not his mother?" Sarah couldn't help but giggle at that comment. "Guess I'm special, huh!". She looked down, and studied my sleeping face. "She's like that all the time, Sarah" "Very cute, but a very slow feeder" Sarah had to keep jiggling the teat firmly latched within my mouth for me to respond with a few more sucks. I was dead to the world as Stowe walked into Bellamys, stopping at the counter and ordering a coffee to go, looking around at those inside the cafe, including one sleeping Amazon baby with two unknown Amazon women. I was wide awake when Mum opened our front door, and carried me into the cool and calm atmosphere of our house. Placing the capsule on the island bench, she released the harness buckles, and lifted me out of the capsule. With a kiss on the nose, she sat me on the rug in the living area, walking off to pack away some shopping in the kitchen. I was initially quite confused, as she was ignoring me. Time to explore then, so I leaned forward, placing both palms flat on the rug, and lifted my butt, so i was on my knees. After a few shaky moments whilst I worked out my balance, and some tentative shuffles, I giggled away, causing drool to ooze out around the pacifier firmly lodged between my gums, dropping onto the tiled floor. "Oh dear, I think you need a bib", I heard, looking up to see Mum bend over and fasten a cloth bib around my neck. "ok now, off you go and play". She wanted me to explore, I realised. Since arriving home from NAP, I'd not been given this kind of freedom, being cuddled, fed, trapped in my high chair, my cot, the capsule or the playpen. So I decided to start with the home theatre room, where I knew some of my toys were located. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle across the tiled floors. The sliding glass doors were ajar, so I tried pushing one of them, which worked, their movement effortless and smooth. My knees felt relief when I crawled onto the thick pile carpet in the HT room. Dad's recliner was folded up, with the playpen pushed in front of it. Under the window sill was a plastic crate full of toys, some of which I noticed were too old and used to be for me. But there was also a handful of bright and glossy wood blocks, varying in shapes and sizes. Some plushies, teddy bears, a few little doll figurines, some rattles, a brightly coloured teething ring, some soft plastic tools, rakes, and little shovels. I grabbed a teddy bear, and put its ear straight into my mouth. I quickly withdrew it, after feeling all that hair against my tongue. So I selected a safer option, dropped the bear, and pulled the teething ring out of the box, which felt squishy against my gums. Strangely soothing too. I was sitting on my butt, contemplating why the ring felt so good against my gums, when I noticed all the little blinking lights behind a glass door in the TV cabinet. Crawling across the carpet to the TV cabinet, my paci swinging wildly from side to side with each swish of my legs and butt, I tried to open the door, but it didn't budge. Hmm, there's a computer in there, and I could see a keyboard too. There was also a games console. I looked up at the TV panel perched high up on the wall out of reach, noticing the little camera lens hung from under the TV. A synapse fired suggesting that the camera may be attached to the console to allow it to sense movement. How could I contact Stowe, I wondered? I was sitting up again, looking at the lens, when my consciousness was suddenly transported into my office. Lounging in my executive chair felt good, but my happiness faded at the pile of documents, books, papers all over my desk. My computer keyboard was front and centre, the screen showing an email program. But touching the keys did nothing, they were frozen in place, the email screen remained blank. Maybe nothing worked in this reality because then I'd be modifying the state of objects, which could change my future, or others futures, and that's obviously not possible, even in this Dimension. I glanced across the desk, my gaze falling onto the picture of Stowe. This is what I was after. I picked it up, and ran my fingers down the photo. God he looked good, such a spunk, ready to rumble in da jungle! My pointer finger rested on his name plate, remembering that it was just numbers "for security". If I contacted him, I could use that number as identification of who I was! Stowe would believe the message was from me! That was the point where my head hit the carpeted floor, I started screaming from the pain, and looking up at mum walking through the doors to the Home Theatre Room, a concerned look etched across her face. ---- Sergeant Jacksen suffered through working in an open-plan office, and found concentrating on his work hard during those times of crisis where the office seemed to be exploding with bodies and noise. Co-workers would constantly refer to him, as their section leader, for advice on issues, cases, reports. No matter the day or night outside, life within Federal Police HQ never stopped, but there were odd occasions when he could look around and see almost noone. When the office was hushed, as it was this beautifully crisp clear Friday morning, he could do his reports, figures for those higher up the chain, or rosters for his team. Occasionally, he'd escape the office, to walk the beat with someone else from the team, patrol around the city in a car, or skip off to lunch or a coffee. Not on this occasion, though. He was head down in a report on protests at the Inter-Dimensional UN, when he heard his desk phone ring. "Sergeant Jacksen speaking!" "Good morning Sergeant Jacksen, this is Mark Bradley returning your call?" "Mark, Mark, Mark, oh yeah!", Jac mumbled as he took a few seconds to remember who Mark Bradley was. "I've been asked by a Private Investigator to get in touch with you to discuss a security matter. Are you able to meet me in Interview Room ... lets see which one's available... Interview Room 5.04 in, say, 30 minutes?" "I'm currently at home, unpacking, so can we make it in an hour's time?" "Yup, we can do that!", Jac responded happily into the phone. "Thanks, I think I can get up to Level 5 with my pass. Is that room inside or outside the security doors?" "Outside, you should be fine for access." About 50 minutes later, Jac walked into the interview room, sat down, set up his laptop, and dialed Stowe's number through the conferencing system. "Stowe here, talk to me" "Stowe, bro, it's Jac, and you're on speaker phone, buddy!" "Jaccy boy, what's up brother?" "I've got Mark Bradley coming up in a sec, got some time to chat?", Jac enquired "Yeah, I'll just shut my office door, wait one ..." There was a knock on the door, and Mark popped his head in, "Sergeant?" "Come in, I've got the PI on speaker phone", as a way of opening the meeting. "Mr Bradley, it's Stowe from Henderson Henderson & Stowe, how are you?", a slightly metallic rendition of Stowe's voice eminated from the speakerphone in the middle of the desk. "Oh, Mr Stowe, I'm quite refreshed after a bit of a holiday? Say, how is Mrs Henderson these days?", Mark leant over the table. "Mark, Mrs Henderson is dead. She was ... *cough* she was deliberately run over some weeks ago", Stowe said quietly. "Her death is part of why Sergeant Jacksen and I have been trying to contact you" Mark looked shattered. Once Michael's adoption was registered, Mark and Sue had no requirement to maintain contact with Mrs Henderson or HH&S, and thus had no idea of the tragedy that befell HH&S. Although they never met Stowe in person, Michael eventually told them all about him. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that news. Mrs Henderson was very professional in her work, and we're so very grateful to her for setting us up with Michael." "Thanks Mark", Stowe responded, trailing off into silence for a few seconds. "Mr Stowe, you've alluded to her death being deliberate, and that I needed to get in touch because of a security issue, does this have anything to do with Michael?", Mark queried, his voice betraying some alarm and stress. "Unfortunately, yes. Mrs Henderson died whilst trying to protect the whereabouts of Michael from some very unsavoury people. I initially thought her being run over was not related, but my investigations showed otherwise. But the HH&S office was broken into a few days ago, and the perps gained access to some documents detailing the adoption of Michael Stone...". Mark looked up at Jac, who was furiously typing away on his laptop. Unknown to Mark, Jac was in the middle of authorising an order for round-the-clock protection of Mark's home address. "... which included your details, home address, and the like. From what I can deduce, both events are the work of the Ramon Family, who are after Michael in particular." "Who are they?", Mark questioned. Jac opened up before Stowe could answer, "Mark, the Ramon Family have long been suspected of having ties to an Inter-Dimensional Mafia, who are very dangerous, as you'd imagine. We also believe Don Ramon, or one of his goons, were responsible for slaughtering Michael's family. Has Michael ever said anything about what happened?" "No, never, though I'll query him tonight when I get home!", Mark shot back. "Mark, you work in Computer Crime & Forensics, did you ever do any surveillance / counter-surveillance training?", Stowe questioned. "Yes, a bit of both. I'm a techie though, Mr Stowe, I don't have a military bone in my body, so I can't slink around like a cat, or defend myself in a CQB fight, if you know what I mean." "Ok, then you need to remember your counter-surveillance training, and ensure you're not followed to or from work. You also need to tell your family to stay inside the house", Stowe coached. "Do you have a gun issued to you?" "No, but I suppose this is as good a reason as any to chase one up", Mark quipped. "Mark, I've arranged for protection of your family and home", Jac advised quietly, looking up from his laptop screen, "... it'll all be set up within the hour. I'll also send you the form required for you to be issued a departmental sidearm." "Thanks, Sarge. Suppose, Mr Stowe, I just give up Michael to this Ramon dude?" Stowe whistled to himself, before answering, "Mark, you don't want to do that. Ramon will still ensure there are no loose ends, so that means your entire family is in danger from him". Stowe paused, to let the gravity of the situation sink into Mark. "He will make a play at some stage, we just all need to be ready for when that happens. I'm sure Sergeant Jacksen would like nothing more than to round up Ramon and his goons, and I have some unfinished business to attend to as well." "And the rest of the Bradley clan? Mum, dad, sister? Will they be affected by this too?" "I think so. They all know Michael has been adopted by you. So that alone would be reason enough for Don Ramon to go after them too", Stowe mused. "He doesn't leave loose ends dangling in the breeze". "Great, excellent!", Mark exclaimed with some anger, before slamming the table and burying his head in his hands. ---- Mum, dad and I were relaxing in the Home Theatre Room late that evening, watching a very funny sitcom on the TV screen. I leaned right back against Mum's tummy, nursing quietly on my pacifier, my hands resting on her thighs, or sometimes fisted up and rubbing my tired eyes. Dad was alternating between tapping away on his phone, and watching the TV. Every time Mum laughed, I couldn't help but giggle. "Who you messaging, Keith?", Mum casually enquired. "Mark! They arrived back home this morning. " "Sweet" Keith leaned over and showed Mum his phone, which was displaying a photo of a cruise ship scene, with Mark, Sue, Michael, and two Amazon toddlers (Kerry-Anne being 3 years old and Thomas who was almost 5). "Cute kids, nice photo!" That was the first time I'd seen Michael since rescuing him. He looked healthy, and happy. The other two looked like bundles of pure energy and trouble. "Yes, quite cute indeed!". Keith went back to his messaging. "Hey, Jenn, Mark has suggested we have a BBQ tomorrow. What do ya think?" "Yeah, sure! I’ll have to go get some groceries though.” Keith returned his attention back to his phone once more. "Would be good if Sarah and her new Little came along too", Jen put it out there. "Agreed" "Ok, I'll let her know it's on. If she turns up, she turns up". With that, both parents were buried in their phones. The laughter buried within the sitcom went unnoticed, the jokes falling on deaf ears. ---- Stowe looked at his watch, which told him quite matter-of-factly that it was close to bed time. With a couple of beers in the belly already, he called it quits rather than order another beer, grabbed his backpack from off the seat next to him, and walked out of the Talley Arms Inn into the coolish evening air. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his car key, turning left to head up the hill towards the Battlewagon, parked about a hundred metres up the road. Just as he reached the truck, an idea crystallised into his mind. Jumping into the drivers seat, he pulled out his phone, set it into the cradle screwed into the dash next to the driver’s side A-pillar, pulled up the mapping software, and punched in Mark Bradley’s street address. It was across the other side of town, about a 30 minute drive. With the lack of traffic at such an hour, he arrived into the neighbourhood within about twenty minutes. Stopping in a street three blocks from Mark’s house, he parked the truck, grabbed his pistol out of the glove compartment, racked it, then exited the truck, locking it behind him. Walking briskly, but quietly, he walked up two blocks, then carefully edged up the side of a hedgerow to a 4-way intersection, looking left around the corner down the street towards Mark’s house. According to his calculations, the guy’s house should be second from the far end of the next block down, and the other side of the street. His heart sank when he could just see through the gloom a number of cars parked, down both sides of the street. As his night vision picked up, and he slowed his heart rate, he started to see little details emerge. The street itself dipped down into a bit of a depression, before gently rising back up and up into the distance. Hungerford Hill it was called. The end of the road, way off in the distance, disappeared into the heavy foggy moisture that hung around after the hot day. Across the street from Mark’s driveway stood a car with a roof rack full of lights - cops. They’d be the 24 hour security detail. Not smart at all using a vehicle that was obviously a police car, but maybe that was the strategy - to scare away the bad guys. Stowe could see no other movement in any of the other cars he could see. He laid down against the hedgerow, with just his head visible if one cared to look up the street. Stowe was a master marksman, a sniper in his SF days, so he knew all about patience. Yes, his night vision was returning to him, but after a while, he was fighting ghost images, formed by the moisture hanging in the still midnight air, caressing the overhead street lights. His patience was rewarded when, about two hours after starting his stakeout, he saw a flicker of light in a vehicle on his side of the street, parked near the intersection between himself and Mark’s residence. Bingo. With his tiredness all but gone through a much-needed jolt of adrenaline, he backtracked towards his truck, and combat-ran around the block, a big U shape, cautiously inching up towards the street corner nearest where he noticed the brief spark of light. Being much closer, he could see more detail of the target, a single body in the vehicle, the person’s back to Stowe, quietly smoking a cigarette, whilst intently studying the house through a pair of binoculars. Who was this person? Just as Stowe was about to step out towards the street, he stopped, realising this was the same make and model of car that had run over Mrs H. How stupid was this guy? Why didn’t he dispose of it? Stowe was conflicted - a pistol shot would attract the cops further down the street, and he had no knife to effect a silent kill. At about three in the morning, Stowe pulled out his phone, and sent a message to Jacksen. [Stowe] Jac! Wake up! I’ve got a lead on the driver! [Jacksen] Don’t do anything, Stowe! Tell me where you are, and I’ll bring the cavalry. [Stowe] Fuck that, this asshole’s mine! [Jacksen] Think, bro, think! You cannot blow this guy away, however much you want to… There really was only one option open to him - withdraw, bide his time, and continue to be patient. [Stowe] You’re right [Jacksen] Just don’t let that fucker out of your sight!
  9. Busted by parents - please help

    now that your dog has the taste of your used diapers he'll do it again and again and again. God is knows why you haven't even attempted to hide them out of reach of the dog, up high in a cupboard or something, or in a locked/clamped up box.
  10. DIAPER DIMENSION - Unlucky Day, Turned Lucky

    Loving Mikey's constant "I'll give in just this once"...
  11. It Takes a Village Conclusion 1/8

    Beautiful. Crying on the train on my way to work is not a good look...
  12. 20 Week Unpotty Training Update

    I enjoy reading your updates, Mark. They also scare me, as I read of signs/symptoms you're going through mirror my own. But I'm more advanced in some aspects, like freely wetting whilst asleep (or partially asleep). I know my IC has been brought on and is degrading for medical reasons, not through self desire. I keep thinking to myself, yes I can stop wearing nappies, but really, can I? Over New Years break, I wore knickers for the first time in 4 months, and I felt free, baby, free! I wore them so I could go swimming - I wore nappies to bed, and pullups at other times. But on the last day of camp, I wore knickers for the long long drive home. When I got home, my knickers were wet. That's why I can't wear knickers any more. Today was my first day back at work from the Christmas break, so I wore a pullup. I leaked, and spotted into it, passed not much pee into the toilet either. But drank heaps during the day (it's really hot here). Another reason why I can't wear knickers any more. Before Christmas, and after my day surgery in late November, I used to flood into my nappies each time. Over Christmas to now, I've noticed I'm not doing that any more, I'm getting urges, and releasing more frequently, in smaller quantities, with more and more of the "it just comes out" releases, with no clamping of sphincter muscles. I've noticed now too that I'm seeing more and more unexplained skidmarks in my nappies and pullups (i.e those times where I'm not experiencing pressure and pushing of stool). This is the one aspect I'm truly scared of. But anyway, keep up your updates.
  13. I'm _so_ happy this story continues. I get inspiration from this and the "Unlucky turned Lucky" Diaper Dimension stories to start and continue my own quest within the Dimension! I too am looking forward to Stacy's struggles with jealousy. I expect her to ask for regression at some stage, as the urge to nurse seems quite powerful to her. Mate we sure her mum isn't working for a secretive organisation, like the NSA? Having a lowly uni build a supercomputer hundreds of feet into the ground seem a bit excessive, and her sweeping and handling of all the bugs. I'm also not surprised about the lucrative market for Little breeders. Stacey looks to be quite the target too. Should I tie this breeder concept into my own story ("Meredith")?
  14. Hard Reset

    Keep going! Am loving this!
  15. Informing employer about incontinence.

    A couple of things I can think of regarding informing employer is: * if one feels they do not have a reasonable location to change, in order to maintain required dress standards and cleanliness for work. They may need to do an assessment of locations, bathrooms, first-aid rooms etc. * If one feels they would be overly uncomfortable / embarrassed / distressed at the lack of privacy when changing in a designated area, or when disposing of byproducts. For instance, I may need to go to my HR and build a case for changing the clear plastic bin liners the cleaners are currently using to black plastic liners, and put a lid on the bin in the disabled toilet. There is absolutely no way I'd be putting my used nappies in those bins, as they're never full (they're huge bins), and a nappy in a nappy bag is really conspicuous to anyone looking into the bin. * If it looks like a change of work role, desk, or location would be required.